| |
Come to the studio on some Saturday night, and you will be greeted and encouraged to sign in by one of our longest-serving monitors, Gisela (Ghee-sell-uh-it's German-hit those consonants hard) Barrett. I recently had the pleasure of getting to know her a little bit, and am glad I did. We met at her apartment in Walnut Creek, which is adorned with the neat clutter of someone who has lived a lot of life - pots, masks, stamps, and trinkets collected during her travels of the world. She greeted me, a virtual stranger, affably and offered me coffee, properly made by hand in a French press, which I gladly accepted. We had a seat and got to talking.
"So, how long have you been going to the studio?" I asked.
"Since 1978, I'm an old broad."
She then unleashed her comforting, unfettered laugh. It's the kind of laugh that cannot be faked, and is only acquired through years of practice. This is one of my favorite things about Gisela: she is able to laugh at anything, and does liberally. As she says with a chuckle, "There's always a hair in the soup."
I looked warily at my coffee. We laughed again.
Gisela came to the U.S. in 1969, and she and her husband settled in Berkeley during "the hippie days." She misses those days in Berkeley, when it was not so rough as it is now. That's where she learned colloquial English, which is markedly different from the British English she had learned in Germany. She still has a propensity to use the word "man" to punctuate the end of sentences. She and her family moved from Berkeley to Walnut Creek, and she came to the "Pot Shop" in 1978.
She had done ceramics as a young person in Germany, and rekindled those skills as her children grew and she had time from the housewife role. She remembers the old building, where they would pit fire alongside the building. There was a real sense of community and that's where Gisela began some friendships that have sustained her through the years. "People there are about the nicest people you will meet-when I went through a divorce 10 years ago, they took care of me. They are honest, good friends. Everybody should have a place like this to go."
Nowadays, she relishes being a bachelorette. Freedom to do as she pleases when she pleases, whether knitting, clay work, or reading a good murder mystery, is central to who she is now. She has two granddaughters who live in Canada with her daughter and son-in-law. She visits twice a year, and loves spoiling them.
Gisela doesn't throw anymore, as it is hard on her back. She enjoys handbuilding masks and using stamps for surface decoration. Her favorite glaze is Temmoku. "I believe in Temmoku-you always get something different. In Japan, Temmoku is the most expensive." Her favorite pot sits atop her bookcase loaded with classic books. It is a large, round vessel, handbuilt with lugs and a lip made for pouring. "My ashes will go in there," she says. "Then they will take me up to the top of Mt. Diablo and roll me down." Speaking with her arms and hands, she intimates the dispersal and laughs heartily.
Perhaps the most obvious thing you will notice when you encounter Gisela is her German accent. This is, of course a common first topic of conversation, and another thing that she applies her sense of humor to. When asked where she's from, she replies, "Valnut Creek" with her hearty laugh. Thank goodness. |
