In Memory of Barry Jeeves

As published by The Buzz June 2015

Artist and potter Barry Jeeves died on May 10, 2015. Born in Toronto, Barry moved to Prince Edward Island in 1971 and had a great influence on the PEI art scene as a teacher and mentor. He studied at the Ontario College of Art in Toronto and the Sir George Williams College of Art in Montreal and was an instructor at the Island’s School of Visual Arts.
Reflecting on her relationship with Barry Jeeves his student and friend, Arlene Rice, owner of Details Past and Present, says:

“I first met Barry Jeeves many years ago when I enrolled for an evening pottery class at the School of Visual Arts. Barry was the instructor. He was one of the most encouraging people I have ever met.

He was always in a positive mood and made you feel like your work had great potential.
“Years later I met Barry again when he approached me to carry his work in my gallery; I was thrilled. Whether it was a streetscape or a floral, his paintings always had a fresh, painterly look. He usually grew the flowers that he painted.

“I remember being at his home one time and admiring a large floral painting. I asked him if he had just finished it. He had a little smile on his face and said no, he had done that piece 40 years ago. That was a great testament of the timelessness of his work.

“When he started having difficulty getting around he would paint small streetscapes from his car, sizes that were small enough to handle within the confined space. They sold as quickly as he brought them in. He would call me when he was coming to town and I would meet him at his car to collect the paintings.

“Barry was one of the kindest and most talented people I have ever met and he leaves a great legacy to the art and craft world of PEI. There is a saying that those who can, do, and those who can’t, teach. Barry Jeeves was a man who did both with creativity, integrity and modesty. I will miss him.” Artist Richard Vickerson continues, “I met Barry about 1980. At that time Holland College School of Visual Arts was offering evening workshops and I decided to take Barry's painting class. I had always had an interest in painting, but I didn't really know how to get started. I had  some cheep oil paints, but found them impractical, so I began using a set of watercolours that I had purchased a few years before . Barry would have us paint still lives. I can still remember the subjects, his old lumberjack coat, work boots, flowers too old to sell from a local shop, a broken pot. I still have these paintings and come across them when I am in a mood to organize my chaotic studio. Barry's love for the process of painting was infectious. He would tell us stories of meeting a farmer who wondered what this man with flailing arms was doing in his field. He would find Barry vigorously painting a sunset before the colours faded. He instilled in all of us the idea that even the most modest subject was worth exploring, and in so doing, he opened up a new way of seeing the world around us. Over the years I have met many artists who have similar memories of Barry.  It would be difficult to measure the effect that Barry had on so many lives. I don't know when I would have come to watercolour, but my first efforts were with Barry. I will always remember his kind encouragement and guidance.”

Henry Purdy adds his comments: "I met Barry Jeeves in 1971 when he was hired as the Pottery Instructor for the Handcraft Training Centre. I was on the interview committee. I remember the committee being extremely impressed by Barry's personality and his desire to teach. Later, after he had left the teaching end of things to run his pottery business with Joan, he proved to be a great craftsperson." Purdy continues, "I hired Barry for Holland College to teach part time Pottery & Painting. He was an inspiration to all those students who came in contact with him. To this day I still have people mention the fact that Barry was so helpful, patient and encouraging to them as a teacher. The Island arts community has lost a very genuine, dedicated and gentle member....he will be missed."

Great article published in  in The Buzz in December 2012 on Ron Arvidson, who had been the pottery instructor at Holland College School of Visual Arts.

Ron Arvidson, The Art of the Organic

Profile by Jane Ledwell

The first time Ron Arvidson saw a potter transforming an unformed lump of clay, the young art student knew it was a “magical” art he wanted to master. After creating pottery professionally more than 40 years, the soft-spoken potter makes modest claims for his magic. “I try to grow from one piece to another,” he says. “One [piece] has to be better than the last… There’s no fun doing it the same again and again.” Ron says, “I like the whole thing to be brought together—colour and texture matched to the organic form of the clay.”

Ron says that to support this evolution, he tends to “work in series, evolved from a particular image.” An avid birder, he says, “Bird images come up again and again and again. Landscape is involved in a lot of them too.” Though the landscape used to be “really literal,” more recent pots subtly build from earth imagery at the foot, through lines of overlapping glaze, towards sky at the top.

His current work is a series of plates in black-and-white based on drawings of birds—crows, heron, osprey. “They are more realistic,” he says, and yet, “drawing with white is not just lines developing: it’s removing the black. It’s like a wood cut—a process of taking away.” His hope is each piece will be “a drawing you don’t have to frame.”

The plates capture Ron’s love of birds. “Birding is a great occupation,” Ron says. “People can bring birds into their life… Even a backyard birdfeeder can develop into something beyond that; it can lead to an understanding and appreciation beyond that. You can develop a sensitivity to nature.”

Such sensitivity takes effort to value in a mass-produced consumer world. Examining the serviceable mug and cutlery before him at the café where we meet, Ron comments practically, “It’s getting to a point you don’t really need the item that is handmade, that has a design component or decoration.” The mass-produced stuff, though, is “pretty sterile, pretty much the same.”

He muses, “Now that you can go to a computer and create a design on the computer and have a 3D image printed, it’s hard to justify making something that starts with a ball of clay. But,” he says hopefully, “I think there’s a growing movement to appreciate nature”—and along with it, the organic, handmade, and artisanal.

“Plan B” protests against highway development and habitat destruction underscore this for Ron. “Plan B shows it has gotten to a point things have gone a little too far. Making products has gone too far.

“People are not happy with things being imposed on them and want to take control of their environment and what they have in their homes. They want not just mass-produced [stuff], but more and more people appreciate the hand-crafted item, the homemade loaf of bread, the homemade meal. They appreciate [things that are] locally made from local products.” He feels sure “this is going to become more central.”

The work of a potter is often solitary, so connecting to others through teaching is “essential” to Ron. He says, “It comes back to the fact that working in the studio, I didn’t like working alone all the time. I like the idea of working with other people and talking to people on a regular basis. I like working with others solving problems, and getting others’ input.”

Beginning a career in the handmade, Ron says, “is like a young farmer—it is not an easy pathway… You’re going to have to grasp a path and take it on yourself to explore.” He speaks admiringly of the new generation of Island artisans doing exactly that.

Ron now reflects on one of his biggest early influences, Saskatchewan potter Jack Sures, and realizes his hallmark was “he approached it as an artistic endeavour.” Pressed to suggest how he wants his own work remembered, Ron Arvidson says, “I want people to appreciate it for the quality of workmanship, and for real growth and development and change over time.” Clay doesn’t change or grow without the potter’s hand, the artist endeavouring.

The Handcraft Training Centre

The roots of formal craft training on PEI go back to the 1960's when the Handcraft Training Centre was created. While various locations were used to teach courses and hold extension programs the main location was in a former provincial health laboratory located at 188 Prince St. in Charlottetown. Barry Jeeves came to PEI in 1971 from Banff, Alberta to teach the pottery program at the Handcraft Training Centre.
L>R Daphne Large, an extension pottery instructor and Eileen Brophy, a pottery student in the pottery studio of the Handcraft Training Centre.
Ann Morrison, a leather student at work in the leather studio of the Handcraft Training Centre.

Eventually the building of a new building in the early 1970's led to the relocation of the Centre to Burns Ave. in West Royalty. The operation became part of Holland College and was renamed the Holland College School of Visual Arts.

Prince Edward Island Sketchbook

When Henry Purdy, the director of Holland College School of Visual Arts, published Prince Edward Island Sketchbook in 1981, four of the subjects of sketches in the book were instructors in the school.

Trudi Walker - Weaving Instructor

Ron Arvidson - Clay Instructor

Ian Scott - Leather Instructor

Bob Doddridge - Wood Instructor

Raku Workshop with Christopher Thompson 1988

Workshops were a great tradition at the School of Visual Arts - they were a time to celebrate and to learn from master craftspeople. They were open to anyone who wanted to register and tended to connect students to practicing artisans across the Island and to the larger crafts community internationally.

An open slide show by the visiting artisan helped to bring the broader world of fine craft to PEI, and to share the excellent work taking place on Prince Edward Island with the larger community.

1st Annual - Pro Am Clay Challenge - 1988

Media personality, Wylaine LeFoye is paired with Island potter Daphne Large - to produce a joint piece and prove that mud and media do mix (or something like that).