Uploaded August 2026 | Updated September 2026, 1 week ago
On the fringes of Christchurch, on a cold winter’s night, an old farmhouse hums with activity, warmed by conversation, cups of tea, homemade cake and the hum of pottery wheels. But for how much longer?
It’s Monday— the weekly gathering of the Halswell Pottery Group. Since 1972, the club's headquarters has been this weatherboard house on the outskirts of Halswell, a suburb on the southwestern edge of Christchurch. The building was originally leased to the club for a dollar a year by founding member Ron Gardiner. Gardiner was born in this house and farmed the land on which it sits. “He would never let us give him the dollar,” says club President Di Shirtcliff.
After Gardiner's death, the club was still able to lease the old house from the farm’s new owners. But Halswell has changed out of sight in that time. What was once a semi-rural village surrounded by farmland is now a suburban sprawl of newly-built houses, and 5000 more houses are planned here. “Subdivision has become the local sport,” says Shirtcliff. The old farmhouse, quietly crumbling amid its attendant grove of trees, is an island of the old Canterbury in a sea of gray coloursteel and concrete driveways.
Club stalwart Gaye Morton tells Frank Film the club has been “my second home for 55 years.” For her, these busy Monday nights are a throwback to the club's glory days. In the 1970s, pottery was huge in New Zealand. It wasn't just a hobby, either–potters around the country, including Morton, made a living spinning up plates, bowls, mugs, as well as decorative items for everyday use in New Zealand homes. When the club held its sale days back then, a large crowd of people would gather outside. When the gates finally swung open, recalls Morton, “They would run. It was horrifying because I was the treasurer.”
Pottery’s fortunes changed for the worse in the 1990s, when the government dropped the tariffs on imported pottery. “We were flooded with Asian and Mexican imports,” says Morton. “That really slowed down local production because everybody bought stuff on the cheap.”
As Kiwi homes filled up with Briscoes bowls, pottery clubs around the country languished. Recently, however, there’s been a turnaround. “There's been a real resurgence in interest in pottery,” says Shirtcliff. “I think people are wanting to do things with their hands, recognizing that that's actually a human need.”
“In the last four or five years,” says Morton, “everybody wants to learn to pot. They find it's not quite as easy once they sit on the wheel.”
The crowd in tonight spans the ages–young and old are here to exercise their creativity and feel the spin of clay beneath the fingertips. The pieces are crafted on wheels and tables inside the house, then, once they’ve dried, are taken out back to the kilns to be fired.
But the club’s tenure in this much-loved old house is coming to an end –their lease arrangement has run its course. Tolerance for a smoky kiln in the midst of a densely populated suburb, Shirtcliff says, is low. And of course the land the house sits on is now extremely valuable.
The future for the Group is uncertain, but no one’s ready to chuck in the towel yet. After all, this club has ridden the waves of pottery's fortunes for five decades now. And while the way ahead may not be clear at the minute, who knows what's round the corner? As Shirtcliff puts it, “life is full of surprises if you're a potter.”
Participants thanks:
Gaye Morton
Di Shirtcliff
Sera Dowie
Shona Clarkson
Paco
Thanks to:
Halswell Pottery Group
Archive footage thanks to:
Halswell Pottery Group
Di Shirtcliff
Gaye Morton
Director, Producer and Camera: Gerard Smyth
Researcher & Second Camera: Bill Morris
Line Producers: Kirsty Cooper & Antony Miller
Editor: Tracey Jury
Colour & Online: Mike Kelland
Audio Post: Chris Sinclair
Funded by NZ On Air
On the fringes of Christchurch, on a cold winter’s night, an old farmhouse hums with activity, warmed by conversation, cups of tea, homemade cake and the hum of pottery wheels. But for how much longer?
It’s Monday— the weekly gathering of the Halswell Pottery Group. Since 1972, the club's headquarters has been this weatherboard house on the outskirts of Halswell, a suburb on the southwestern edge of Christchurch. The building was originally leased to the club for a dollar a year by founding member Ron Gardiner. Gardiner was born in this house and farmed the land on which it sits. “He would never let us give him the dollar,” says club President Di Shirtcliff.
After Gardiner's death, the club was still able to lease the old house from the farm’s new owners. But Halswell has changed out of sight in that time. What was once a semi-rural village surrounded by farmland is now a suburban sprawl of newly-built houses, and 5000 more houses are planned here. “Subdivision has become the local sport,” says Shirtcliff. The old farmhouse, quietly crumbling amid its attendant grove of trees, is an island of the old Canterbury in a sea of gray coloursteel and concrete driveways.
Club stalwart Gaye Morton tells Frank Film the club has been “my second home for 55 years.” For her, these busy Monday nights are a throwback to the club's glory days. In the 1970s, pottery was huge in New Zealand. It wasn't just a hobby, either–potters around the country, including Morton, made a living spinning up plates, bowls, mugs, as well as decorative items for everyday use in New Zealand homes. When the club held its sale days back then, a large crowd of people would gather outside. When the gates finally swung open, recalls Morton, “They would run. It was horrifying because I was the treasurer.”
Pottery’s fortunes changed for the worse in the 1990s, when the government dropped the tariffs on imported pottery. “We were flooded with Asian and Mexican imports,” says Morton. “That really slowed down local production because everybody bought stuff on the cheap.”
As Kiwi homes filled up with Briscoes bowls, pottery clubs around the country languished. Recently, however, there’s been a turnaround. “There's been a real resurgence in interest in pottery,” says Shirtcliff. “I think people are wanting to do things with their hands, recognizing that that's actually a human need.”
“In the last four or five years,” says Morton, “everybody wants to learn to pot. They find it's not quite as easy once they sit on the wheel.”
The crowd in tonight spans the ages–young and old are here to exercise their creativity and feel the spin of clay beneath the fingertips. The pieces are crafted on wheels and tables inside the house, then, once they’ve dried, are taken out back to the kilns to be fired.
But the club’s tenure in this much-loved old house is coming to an end –their lease arrangement has run its course. Tolerance for a smoky kiln in the midst of a densely populated suburb, Shirtcliff says, is low. And of course the land the house sits on is now extremely valuable.
The future for the Group is uncertain, but no one’s ready to chuck in the towel yet. After all, this club has ridden the waves of pottery's fortunes for five decades now. And while the way ahead may not be clear at the minute, who knows what's round the corner? As Shirtcliff puts it, “life is full of surprises if you're a potter.”
Participants thanks:
Gaye Morton
Di Shirtcliff
Sera Dowie
Shona Clarkson
Paco
Thanks to:
Halswell Pottery Group
Archive footage thanks to:
Halswell Pottery Group
Di Shirtcliff
Gaye Morton
Director, Producer and Camera: Gerard Smyth
Researcher & Second Camera: Bill Morris
Line Producers: Kirsty Cooper & Antony Miller
Editor: Tracey Jury
Colour & Online: Mike Kelland
Audio Post: Chris Sinclair
Funded by NZ On Air
