Emotions Unveiled: My Journey on The Great Pottery Throw Down
Within just ten minutes of filming the very first episode of The Great Pottery Throw Down back in 2015, I found myself moved to tears. One of the talented potters, Rekha, was facing an intense moment of stress. It seemed she wouldn’t be able to get her pots into the drying room in time, jeopardizing her chances in the competition. Watching Rekha struggle at the very first hurdle was something I—and many viewers, I’m sure—could easily relate to and feel empathy for. Unlike most, however, I expressed my emotions outwardly, tears streaming down my face.
In my ear, I heard the director’s voice excitedly announcing, “Rekha is in trouble, quick, get some cameras on her!” This was one of the first glimpses of “jeopardy” (as television producers like to call it) in this brand-new, uncharted show. Just moments later, the director exclaimed, “Oh my God, one of the judges is crying… this is TV gold, quick, cameras!” And that marked the beginning of my unexpected reputation for crying on national television.
Who would have imagined that I, a big guy, would become known for shedding tears over clay? I certainly didn’t foresee it. It wasn’t merely about physical appearance; it was more about how deeply I had become emotionally invested in the lives of the potters. I could genuinely relate to their journeys and the struggle to create something they could be proud of. This emotional connection hasn’t diminished since that initial episode. Despite knowing the format of such shows, the empathy and feelings surrounding the pottery are profoundly authentic.
I’m no stranger to tears, either. In fact, I cry quite often! Recently, I even shed tears over a steel pillar. It was in the chapel we are renovating, and it had just been sandblasted. As we unveiled it, having just placed all our furniture in the finished room, the sight was simply breathtaking. It’s really the process of creation that moves me: the journey of crafting something beautiful, especially when the creator feels proud of their work.
My emotional openness can largely be attributed to my upbringing. My parents never shamed anyone for displaying emotions, and that attitude undoubtedly influenced me. There have been phases in my life when I wasn’t in tune with my feelings, particularly in my twenties, but that gradually evolved, especially when I embraced pottery.
The sheer physical and emotional skill required to produce thousands of pots by hand each week made me appreciate the value of the creative process and the joy that comes when you finally realize a vision that had been taking shape in your mind. It’s an exhilarating feeling!
Marj, my partner, and I often discuss the impact of my tears on television and the diverse reactions from the wide spectrum of viewers The Throw Down attracts. I’ve walked past construction sites where workers, typically scaffolders, shout, “Oi, you’re the bloke off the telly that cries!” or “I love that show! Well done, mate; I love it when you cry, big man!” I can’t help but smile and wave in acknowledgment of their kind words.
One of the many nuances that Marj and I ponder is whether my emotional display would have the same resonance if I were smaller in stature. We suspect it wouldn’t. Society often conditions us to believe that a stereotypical man should be tough and devoid of emotions. However, I contend that expressing feelings enhances emotional articulation and fosters connections with others, ultimately making one a stronger person overall. I have no shame in my tears.
My crying is completely spontaneous on the show, often surprising both myself and those watching. However, when contestants navigate through adversity and find solace in their art, I know the tears are bound to flow. My emotional displays seem to have opened up a conversation about masculinity. I’ve received countless messages from former servicemen and individuals in traditionally masculine environments, all expressing how wonderful it is to see a man on television who openly cries with joy or displays any emotion towards others. My tears seem to have granted permission for men to express their feelings more openly and publicly, and that fills me with pride.
I have never viewed emotional expression as a weakness. Quite the opposite, I see it as a profound strength.
Keith Brymer Jones is a potter and ceramic designer. He is a judge on Channel 4’s The Great Pottery Throw Down.
This Week I Have Been
Moving… house. Currently, my waking hours are consumed by shrink wrap—yards and yards of it! It’s a fascinating material, although not exactly eco-friendly. It resembles industrial clingfilm, and I’ve been using it to wrap endless pallets from my pottery studio, relocating them to North Wales. I treat each pallet I pack as a game, seeing how much I can fit onto a single pallet.
Dressing… I’m a creature of habit regarding my daily attire. On a typical day, you’ll find me in work overalls, which serve me well in the studio—both upstairs when I’m working on the computer and downstairs with clay. It also requires minimal thought, freeing up my mind to focus on my creations.
However, I do enjoy dressing well for outings. I tend to buy quality items infrequently, but when I do, they are usually British-made—from shoes to shirts to jackets.
Marj once gifted me a pair of Grenson boots for Christmas. I wore them nonstop for at least a month, and now I rarely buy anything other than handmade shoes. There’s an artistry in a handmade shoe that deeply resonates with me.
Fasting… At present, I’m trying to avoid eating anything before 12:30 PM. As a man of a certain age, I find that just thinking about bread can make my waistline expand! My love for food knows no bounds; I enjoy all varieties. Growing up, my mother insisted that my sister and I finish everything on our plates. This rule was enforced quite strictly, and any leftovers from one meal were guaranteed to resurface at the next. Thankfully, this instilled in me a willingness to eat almost anything. Looking back, I’m grateful for that strict regime.
I’m incredibly fortunate that Marj is an exceptional cook, turning even the simplest ingredients into delicious meals. Honestly, I have no idea what she adds to her dishes; my only job is to enjoy the food, for which I am immensely thankful.
