I am a ceramic artist based in Sydney’s eastern suburbs.  I was born and grew up in South Africa, lived in Israel for 10 years, and moved to Australia in 2005.  My natural inclinations were always towards healing, and I entered my first career, nursing, with a desire to help people. 

After qualifying as a Registered Nurse, I left Johannesburg to work and travel, and found myself going to art galleries for the first time. In London, I remember the thrill of seeing Monet’s Water Lilies as I entered the National Gallery, and later at the Tate, I experienced my first visceral response to art. It was in 1993 at a J.M.W Turner exhibition guided by a gallery volunteer. Through her in-depth knowledge, I grasped that art was about deep emotions and a search for truth, not talent, skill, money or fame. It wasn’t even about ‘beauty’ necessarily. I was 22, a nurse with no background in art, now wanting to know more.

In 1995, I was working as an ICU nurse in Jerusalem when I joined an evening art class and was introduced to the potter’s wheel by ceramicist Aimee Margalit.  I was hooked. After two years of weekly classes, I took the leap and went to art school full-time, with the intention of balancing two careers. But, the hours and demands were incompatible and forced to choose between them, art won.

After completing a Bachelor of Fine Art at Bezalel Academy in Jerusalem in 2003, I married, started a family and moved to Sydney. I continued further art studies part-time while raising children and teaching pottery at Bondi Pavilion. In 2013, I completed a Masters of Cross-Disciplinary Art and Design at UNSW. In 2022, I partnered with Sydney Clay Studio and Waverley Council to run the newly renovated pottery studio at Bondi Beach - Bondi Pavilion Clay Studio.

My studies and motherhood opened my eyes to gender inequality in a ‘post-feminist’ world. I discovered artists that I hadn’t encountered in my earlier degree. Louise Nevelson, Hannah Wilke, Ana Mendieta and other artists from the 70s shifted my focus to work that resonated with my experiences, and deepened my insight into art’s potency and its relation to politics.

Over the years, I have been privileged to study with legendary educators. Intimidating but brilliant Bezalel teacher Milka Chizik said to us in First Year: ‘accept that you won’t always know what your art is about’. Working abstractly, I recall Milka’s words when I feel lost in the creative process, and while  ‘not knowing’ is uncomfortable, it also leads to excavation, discovery and freedom.  I try to work from that place.

Terracotta Vessels.jpg

As with many artists, my journey has been slow. In my fifties, I feel like I am just beginning. My interest in healing remains strong. I recently came across a blog by my former teacher, Eran Ehrlich, which mirrors my view of art’s role in the world:

“ The core Jewish value of tikkun olam (healing the world) stems from the understanding that the world is a fractured place and it is the mission of every individual to both fix and elevate it in his or her own unique way.  While artistic creation is not explicitly religious by any means, most art designers would agree that their process does fall within the realm of tikkun olam, as art is what happens when they seek to create something for a better world.”