DUNNING – Marlene Van Diest is finally washing her hands of clay.
The 87-year-old artist, known regionally and beyond for her mugs, plates, and piggy banks as the iconic “Sandhills Pottery,” has recently closed the doors of her studio after 41 years and countless pieces.
At her home in Dunning, Van Diest reflects on her journey in the two weeks since vacating her studio over a pile of neatly creased newspaper and a handful of residual sentimental ceramic commissions.
“Somebody asked me the other day if I cried when it was all over. I said, ‘No, I didn’t. I knew it was time.’”
The articles from across her 40-plus years and all corners of the state are just about all Van Diest has held onto from her sprawling body of work, but that doesn’t bother her; it’s exactly that practicality that has cultivated the following around her work.
“I like to make useful things. I don’t like to dust things, so I like to make things that get used and don’t gather dust.”
Her pieces, over the years, would rarely have the chance to gather that dust. Roughly 70 stores across the state would stock her work, and through regional markets, commissions stateside and across oceans, and most famously through the glass case at Norm’s Sinclair in Dunning, Van Diest recalls at times her pottery wouldn’t even have the chance to cool before being swept off by eager collectors.
“I had one gal from Alaska order a whole set of dishes, and said she was going to be here at a certain time. I’m not kidding you; I took them hot out of the kiln and wrapped them in newspaper right as she showed up.”
As far and wide as her work has spread, Van Diest cites the Sandhills as her spark: she fell in love with the art form after first seeing the work of a potter in Thedford. From there, it was off to Colorado Springs after high school, where her fascination would fully take root.
“We watched a 70-some-year-old man on a kick wheel, and it was the first time I’d ever seen pottery made. I got interested, just seeing that mud get made into something functional.”
Van Diest, over the next 40 years, would see that interest balloon from a hobby to a near-commercial-sized operation involving 2 employees, several kilns and unique glazes, which would shape and color over 2,000 pounds of clay per year at its height.
Her final pieces, much like their creator, were equal parts passion and practicality: a full dish set in a custom black and white glaze requested by her grandson, one last piggy bank for her great-granddaughter’s newborn, and a small batch of cremation urns requested by friends and loved ones.
Loss of arm and hand strength would lead Van Diest to retire the Sandhills Pottery name earlier this year, though her passion for the arts remains just as strong; she has recently switched to watercolor composition, barn quilts, and gardening.
Van Diest says that most of her equipment has found worthy homes; a good portion of the wheels, kilns, and clay will remain in central Nebraska, with several items moving out of state with her daughter. She will continue to mix glazes to order, but in the meantime, Van Diest, in her predictably practical fashion, has more pressing concerns.
“I’m behind on my garden. It’s getting kind of weedy, so I have to get out there.”
The trailblazing and grail-glazing Sandhills potter, it seems, has cleaned the clay off her hands for a single purpose: to keep them full.
