Meet the Maker: Zoe Lannan, Xirix

Zoe Lannan is the self-taught Adelaide ceramicist behind Xirix. Guided by a love of ancient artefacts and the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, she builds each piece slowly by hand from her home studio, celebrating the beauty found in asymmetry, texture, and imperfection. We sat down with Zoe to learn more about the practice behind the pieces.

How did Xirix come to life, and what first drew you to working with clay? 

In 2022, I was feeling very burnt out from work. Being self-employed and working from home, I found it hard to switch off, so I decided I needed a hobby that would force me to slow down. I'd seen videos of people throwing on pottery wheels and it looked fun, so I bought a cheap wheel online to try it out. I absolutely hated it - I just couldn't get the hang of it. But I still had clay and tools left over, so I thought I'd try another approach I'd come across: handbuilding. I wasn't very good at first, but I instantly fell in love with it. From there I spent a lot of time watching videos, learning different handbuilding techniques, and practising as much as I could. Eventually I started sharing my work on social media, people began asking for commissions, and things have slowly grown from there.

What drew you towards handbuilding? 

I've always been fascinated by ancient art and archaeology. I grew up geeking out over shows like Time Team, intrigued by the dug-up fragments of everyday objects that reveal how people once lived. I love the idea that simple things like ceramic bowls or cooking ware survive for centuries and carry those stories with them. Handbuilding felt like the most natural way to connect to that history. It's such a tactile, hands-on process, where every curve and surface is shaped directly by hand. No matter how hard you try, no two pieces will ever be exactly alike, which makes each one feel that much more personal and unique.

You spent a decade as a graphic designer before coming to clay. How does that designer's eye shape the way you work with your hands? 

Graphic design has taught me to think carefully about balance, proportion, contrast, and symmetry, and those same principles naturally carry over into my pottery. I still approach a form with that same instinct to refine and adjust until the proportions feel just right, often returning to a piece again and again. The big difference is that graphic design is incredibly precise and controlled, whereas clay is much more unpredictable. Learning to work with that, rather than against it, has been both the most challenging and the most rewarding part of working with clay. There's a level of imperfection and spontaneity you have to embrace. In a way, pottery has become a kind of antidote to perfectionism for me.

What inspires you, from form and colour, to the creative direction of Xirix? 

Nature is always a source of inspiration. At the moment, I'm particularly drawn to botanicals and petals, trying to translate those shapes into vases. I also keep a very chaotic Pinterest board filled with things that spark ideas: rock formations, a beautifully pleated sleeve, Moroccan tiles, patterns in sand dunes, Ernst Haeckel's illustrations, ancient Greek amphoras. Scrolling through it when I'm stuck for ideas is surprisingly helpful. Architecture is another big influence. Growing up I was convinced I was going to be an architect - I spent all my spare time drawing floor plans and building 3d house models in SketchUp. That passion eventually faded, but I think it still informs the aesthetic of my work, from the organic forms of Gaudí, to the more geometric works of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. I enjoy playing with that contrast between structure and fluidity, like in the silhouette of my Meiner vase for example.

How do you balance creativity with functionality in your pieces? 

For me, creativity and functionality really go hand in hand. When I'm sketching a piece, I'm always thinking about how it will actually be used - how flowers might sit in a vase, how jewellery might gather in a bowl, or how the piece will sit and work within a home. Early on I just made whatever shapes I liked the idea of, until I realised I'd ended up with all these pieces that served no real function at all. That shifted my approach. Putting practicality at the forefront often pushes me creatively too. I hope to make pieces that are just as beautiful as they are useful.

Can you walk us through your process of making a piece, from idea to finished object? 

Sometimes I spend time sketching an idea, other times I simply start building and intuitively work out the form as I go. I use a combination of slab building and coiling, slowly building the piece upward and shaping the form by hand. The idea often changes as I work - taking clay away, adding to it, and sculpting until the piece feels complete. Once finished, the piece is dried slowly and bisque fired. From there I lightly sand it, wash it, and brush on glaze by hand before the final glaze firing.

Your pieces are designed to live inside daily rituals. Is there an object in your own home that does that for you? 

Funnily enough, I think it's one of my own early pieces - a small organic wavy tray that lives on my bedside table. It holds all sorts of odds and ends: jewellery, lip balm, and loose change. It's part of that quiet end-of-day ritual of emptying my pockets and taking off jewellery before bed. The glaze is uneven and the base wobbles horribly, but for some reason I can't bring myself to replace it.

Are there inherited or found objects that shaped your belief in creating slowly and intentionally by hand? 

I grew up surrounded by art. My mum especially instilled a love and appreciation for it in my sister and me. We were always drawing, painting, knitting, or sewing - our house was a very crafty place growing up. Bookshelves, cabinets, and any bare surface in our house was always filled with something - books, photographs, and little pieces of art my mum has collected over the years. A handmade bowl with delicate roses around the rim that she kept shells in, a green ornate Japanese pillow box, paintings from local artists, and a small ceramic man in a suit she made as a teenager who's since lost an arm and a leg. I've started collecting pieces of my own now too, like a ceramic elephant that belonged to my great grandmother and an Aboriginal painting by Jimmy 'Tin Can' T that I adore. Seeing how these objects are made, collected, and displayed with care has shaped the way I think about making. I hope the pieces I create might one day be cherished in that same way.

What excites you the most about the future of Xirix? 

What excites me most is continuing to evolve my work and style. I'm interested in pushing the material, and myself, further - experimenting with scale, textures, and more delicate forms. The ultimate dream would be a dedicated studio, perhaps in the Adelaide hills or near the beach, with a little coffee shop attached where people can slow down, connect, and learn handbuilding too.

Can you describe Xirix in three words? 

Sculptural, organic and intentional.