Ideas rarely appear from nowhere. They form through memory, observation, conversation and the conditions of their time. Some are acted on immediately, others sit quietly until someone gives them form. A Study of Ideas explores that space between thought and making – where ideas begin, what shapes them and what allows them to become real.
As part of the continued collaboration between Assembly Label and McMullin, and in celebration of a new interpretation of the Rice Paper Lamp, we visited the homes and studios of creatives across different disciplines to explore the ideas, habits and observations that shape the way they think.
In her Melbourne home, Samantha McIntyre’s practice sits quietly alongside everyday life – ceramics, objects and works in progress gathering around a desk overlooking Edinburgh Gardens. What began as a ceramics class has become both a creative practice and source of comfort to her.
We spoke with her about daydreaming, making without a plan, finding inspiration in rest and the things she continually finds herself returning to.
Could you introduce yourself and tell us a little bit about your creative practice?
My name is Sam - and I'm a part-time ceramicist/artist. I’ve been teaching myself shapes and forms in building with my hands using clay, glazes and through painting on canvas. My art is my therapy and an outlet for expressing myself.
Where did the name The Soda Fountain come from?
I was in love with Bruce Davidson’s photography in my early 20s, especially his documenting of a 1950s Brooklyn “gang” who would hang out at The Soda Fountain. It resonated with me as a wholesome space to feel welcome, and I simply liked the ring of the name.
What first drew you to working with clay and making things by hand?
I was diagnosed with depression in 2017 and was struggling to find therapy of any help. A friend took me along to a community ceramics course and I fell in love with going for two hours every Wednesday. Soon after, Covid hit and I kept up the practice in my solitude, which helped with my depression immensely. It’s now both therapy and comfort.
When you begin a new piece, where does it usually start?
My ideas are often derived from daydreaming in the shower or, if I’m unable to fall asleep, I’ll find my mind racing with thoughts, and something will randomly pop in there. Otherwise, I simply sit at my desk and start building and let the form take shape of its own will. I find I get stuck with fear if I try to plan a shape and then it goes horribly wrong. Plus, it’s relaxing to let my mind and hands wander.
What do you hope someone feels or takes from the things you make?
Comfort and joy in getting lost in shape, texture and the visual vortex of checkers, or simply looking at a piece and feeling however it makes you feel in any given moment.
Where do you turn to for inspiration or references?
Any of the books kept in my home, films I love, nature always, words and poetry, emotions and art.
What do you find yourself returning to repeatedly?
My comfort films. I often think of Cleo from 5 to 7 or The Cemetery Man, Twin Peaks, Charmed or Pride & Prejudice. I adore colour and try to dress in whichever colour my mood is giving. I want to stop and smell all the neighbours’ flowers and think of the whimsical, fairy-like garden at the end of my street daily. I adore being inspired by my friends and often come up with an idea even if the conversation revolves around our favourite ice cream flavour.
What do you pay attention to that others might miss?
I wouldn’t know what others might miss. Everyone has a way of seeing that is unique to them. I suppose I always notice the first stars in the sky on my walk home or want to know where the moon is.
Can you tell us about the space where you work and make?
My studio desk is under a window overlooking the tops of the trees in Edinburgh Gardens. It gets lovely afternoon sun and a perfect view of the moon when it’s almost at its apex.
I often stare out at the world whilst making, either listening to my housemate’s music or I’ll pop a favourite movie on if I need company. I feel safe and inspired in this spot, and it’s close to the kitchen should I need a wine or a snack.
Are there any rituals or routines that have become part of the way you make?
No specific routine. Dinner and a small rest after work, then I’ll go and sit at my desk. I try not to force anything, so if I’m feeling uninspired, I listen to my body and look for inspiration in rest.
What are you interested in exploring next?
Different shapes and heights, and I’d love to learn more about the alchemy of glazes, of which I know very little. I’m also hoping to delve back into painting. I’m grateful to finally have ideas brimming within again.
If someone spent a day with you, what would they notice?
My innate sarcasm, how often I yawn, the random songs that come out of my mouth at any time of the day. That I might tune you out – accidentally, of course – because I’ve begun daydreaming.
Coffee order? Batch brew or long black.
Morning person or night owl? Night owl.
Do you work best with music or silence? Any of the above.
Naturally tidy or comfortably messy? Depends on my emotions and anxiety hehe
Do you collect anything – mentally or physically? Books, chairs quotes.
Digital or handwritten notes? Mental – it’s a bad habit.
Window seat or aisle? Window- cloud kingdom, duh!
A meal you never get tired of? Cheeseburger and a martini.
A place you always return to? Central coast with my grandparents, both physically and mentally.
One object you’d save from the studio? My childhood teddy and my favourite photo of my mum and grandad.
Colour you’ve been drawn to recently? Teal or deep red.
Something small that made you happy this week? My housemate returning home after a week, complaining about the cold and freaking lovely interactions with people new and old.
