The Beauty of Process with Ryan Der

WHAT WAS THE CATALYST FOR STARTING "LOVE, RYAN"? WAS THERE A SPECIFIC VOID YOU WANTED TO FILL IN THE WORLD OF CERAMICS?

It truly evolved from a personal gesture of connection. When I first began working with clay, my pieces were far from "retail-ready" - they were humble gifts meant for friends and family. Because each piece was a personal offering, I would hand-write "Love, Ryan" on the bottom of everything I made. As my practice grew from crafting a single piece a day to producing 20, and eventually 50, the hand-written note became a physical stamp. The transition to the name "Love, Ryan" felt like a natural extension of that original sentiment. Even as the volume increased, the core philosophy remained the same: it’s from me, I made it, and I love you.



HOW DID THE CERAMIC SCENE IN LOS ANGELES SHAPE YOUR EARLY AESTHETIC COMPARED TO THE COMMUNITY YOU’VE FOUND HERE IN SYDNEY?

Moving from Los Angeles to Sydney allowed me to transition from being a student in someone else's space to establishing my own. My early aesthetic was heavily shaped by my teacher, Patrick, and his beautiful studio in Venice Beach, The Temple of Mediclaytion. That studio was my sanctuary; I would go there after work to practice, find stillness, and be alone with my thoughts. When I arrived in Sydney, I found myself deeply missing that environment. I realized that to maintain that same sense of peace and creative focus, I had to build it myself. Creating my own studio here was born out of a necessity to reclaim that "world" for myself—it’s a continuation of the meditative practice I started in LA, just in a new setting.



DO YOU HAVE A FAVOURITE ‘MISTAKE’? A PIECE THAT DIDN'T GO TO PLAN BUT ENDED UP DEFINING A NEW DIRECTION?

I look at "mistakes" more as moments in time. Sometimes a piece breaks in the middle of the process, sometimes it bends, or perhaps it squishes at the very end. Rather than discarding them, I often keep these pieces as reminders that something doesn’t have to be perfect to deserve to exist. I’ve built a collection of these moments that I hope to share one day. They serve as a physical history of my headspace: some were made on difficult days, while others were created on days so beautiful and exciting that my focus simply drifted from the clay. I don't believe those efforts should be thrown away or wasted. They are snapshots of where I was at that exact second, and there is immense value in that.

IF SOMEONE IS LOOKING FOR THEIR OWN "MEDITATIVE PRACTICE," WHY DO YOU THINK CLAY IS SUCH A POWERFUL PLACE TO START?

Clay is uniquely powerful because it is so deeply tactile; you have to be entirely involved in the physical production of it. There is no way to be passive—you must be present because every movement, no matter how small, leaves a permanent mark. When you truly enter that flow of creating, the rest of the world naturally falls away, leaving you entirely in the "now." Beyond the initial creation, clay teaches the discipline of returning. Unlike many things in life that we start and leave unfinished, pottery requires a series of intentional steps—you can’t just walk away. You are constantly revisiting a specific moment and an item that you have committed to seeing through to the end. I believe there is immense value in that consistency. Finishing something is a vital practice, and if you can lean into that cycle, it becomes a beautiful, grounding part of your life.



YOU’RE COMMITTED TO EMPOWERING OTHERS TO CREATE. WHAT’S THE MOST COMMON "CREATIVE BLOCK" YOU SEE IN BEGINNERS, AND HOW DO YOU HELP THEM BREAK THROUGH IT?

The hardest part of learning any new craft is letting go of your ego—because, truly, your "ego is not your amigo." We often forget that we were once "bad" at everything we now do instinctively: using a fork, riding a bike, or even the most basic daily tasks. Everything requires a learning curve, yet we tend to be incredibly hard on ourselves when we don't master a new skill immediately. The biggest hurdle I see is the frustration of not being "good" right away. Many people hit that wall and want to quit because they can't sit with the discomfort of being a beginner. I try to provide a space where people feel it's okay to be "bad" at it for a while. If you can push through that initial "hump" of awkwardness and lean into the discomfort, you’ll find a sense of freedom. Once you realize that nobody starts as an expert, the pressure lifts, and that’s usually when the practice becomes truly addictive.

LIVING AND WORKING SO CLOSE TO THE OCEAN, HOW DOES THE SHIFTING COASTLINE OF TAMARAMA FIND ITS WAY INTO THE TEXTURES OR SILHOUETTES OF YOUR CURRENT WORK?

The sea is a constant presence here. It’s not just something you look at; you feel it, you smell it, and you absorb the energy of the people celebrating it all day and night. Living in this atmosphere, that coastal energy inevitably spills over into your work. I see people on their way to and from their swims, and that rhythm becomes part of my own. Tamarama has a rugged, raw coastline, and I think that translates directly into the silhouettes and textures of my work. In nature, nothing is perfectly symmetrical, yet it is breathtaking. That ruggedness leads to "imperfections"—the kind of details that might make some people freak out, but to me, they are the most honest part of the piece. Being in nature and embracing the imperfect go hand in hand.



WHAT DO YOU HOPE SOMEONE FEELS WHEN THEY HOLD A "LOVE, RYAN" PIECE FOR THE FIRST TIME?

When someone holds one of my pieces my hope is  they simply feel good about it. I want them to feel the human traces within the clay. If you run your fingers along the inside of a cup, you’ll feel the marks of my hands; you’re feeling the time, energy, and thought that went into that specific moment of creation. Ultimately, I hope these pieces allow people to turn their daily routines into something more ceremonial. Even the smallest acts, like the morning coffee or the ritual of washing up, can add to the richness of life’s experience. I want my work to be a reminder that there is beauty and connection to be found in the objects we use every day.

SHOP INCU COLLECTION



Featuring RYAN DER OF LOVE RYAN CERAMICS
Photography LEIF PRENZLAU