London Craft Week – A Day of Inspiration (and One Very Useful Lesson
- Fiona Wyse
- Jun 2
- 3 min read
In May, I stepped away from the studio for a day to immerse myself in London Craft Week.
My aim was simple: to see as much as possible in a single day and, perhaps, catch a glimpse of where I might fit within this inspiring world by 2027.
After all, sometimes you have to imagine where you're going before you can begin the journey.
My first official stop was Sotheby's to see Crafted. I'm slightly embarrassed to admit that despite living in London for more than twenty years, I'd never actually been inside. Walking through the doors on New Bond Street felt both exciting and just a little intimidating. The doorman couldn't have been more welcoming, but there is undeniably an atmosphere of wealth and grandeur that makes the imposter syndrome whisper quietly in your ear.
Still... shoulders back and onwards.
The first exhibition I encountered was Secret Ceramics, where proceeds support FiredUp Clay Clubs, giving young people from disadvantaged backgrounds access to ceramics. Judging by the number of red dots beside the works, the project was receiving some very well-deserved support.
From there I wandered through Sotheby's galleries before reaching what I had really come to see: the inaugural House & Garden Craft Prize Showcase. Celebrating makers who preserve traditional skills while reinterpreting them for contemporary audiences, it was an inspiring reminder that craftsmanship continues to evolve rather than stand still.
My next destination was The Art Workers' Guild to visit The Art of Making. Unfortunately, I'd neglected one rather important detail...
It only opened at weekends.
After a brief "well, that's annoying" moment, I found myself sitting on the front steps wondering what to do next. That's when fortune intervened. I met the exhibition curator, Jane, who very kindly invited me back for that evening's private view.
It was a lovely reminder that some of the best moments of the day are the ones you never planned.
Back onto the number 55 bus and off to Shoreditch for Future Icons Selects, where several members of the Society of Designer Craftsmen were exhibiting. Set beneath brick railway arches, the venue provided a wonderful backdrop for contemporary craft. One of the real pleasures was meeting the makers themselves, including ceramic artist Rachel Karasik, whose chainmail-inspired ceramics were charming. Catherine Hammerton, whose botanical sculptures were beautifully observed, and Louisa Pacifico, founder of Future Icons.
From there I headed to Sarah Myerscough Gallery to see Thread.
This was, without question, the highlight of my day.
The gallery itself was flooded with natural light, allowing the monumental textile works to breathe within the space. Bold, ambitious and beautifully curated, the exhibition demonstrated the extraordinary possibilities of contemporary fibre art. The accompanying texts were equally thoughtful, adding context without overwhelming the work. I left feeling genuinely inspired.

A short walk away, Soluna presented Origins of Materials, where I found myself particularly drawn to delicate woven horsehair pieces. Beautiful though they were, I deliberately resisted asking where anyone finds horsehair long enough to weave with.
Some mysteries are perhaps best left unsolved.

My final stop brought me full circle, back to The Art Workers' Guild for The Art of Making. It had been well worth returning. The exhibition celebrated not only finished objects but also the processes behind them, with looms, sketchbooks, potters' wheels and works in progress displayed alongside completed pieces. As someone fascinated by how ideas evolve through making, I found this especially rewarding. I was also delighted to finally see Margaret Jones's work in person once again, and it certainly didn't disappoint.

Looking back, London Craft Week reminded me why I enjoy days like these so much. Of course, it's about seeing exceptional craftsmanship, but it's also about conversations, unexpected encounters and discovering work that quietly shifts your own thinking.
If I learned one practical lesson, it's this: always read the opening times before setting off across London!
But perhaps the more important lesson is to leave room for the unexpected. Sometimes the unplanned detours become the moments you remember most.




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