WOMEN IN CLAY

The first time I encountered Jo Armstrong’s sculptures, I was mesmerised. Among a sea of artworks at a local exhibition, her whimsical busts drew me in—women, rendered in clay, of all sizes, shapes, and expressions, sparking conversations and eliciting smiles. But beyond the charm, there was something deeper at play—a sense of levity. Don’t take it all so seriously, they seemed to say. A message hard-won from Jo’s own life.

WRITTEN BY DONNA RISHTON-POTTER

Jo’s world is one where swimmers pose with oversized fish, canaries perch atop the heads of elegant ladies, and blooms sprout, Medusa-like, from others. It’s whimsy and joy entwined. And it is captivating, if not hopeful.

With her oversized glasses, signature headscarf and spill of wild curls, Jo is the picture of an artist. Albeit her creative journey has been anything but conventional. Before she was sculpting in clay, she was shaping spaces in a very different way—designing and constructing one of Queensland’s first straw bale homes.

Featured on the ABC and programs like Burke’s Backyard, Jo and her then-husband were pioneers in sustainable architecture, hosting workshops to share their knowledge. A highly regarded landscape designer, she created a property so stunning it was included in the Australian Open Garden Scheme. Her approach to design—building, refining, and transforming raw materials—would later influence her sculpture.

Then, life took a devastating turn. A fire destroyed her family home, prompting a move to Murwillumbah to be closer to one of her four sons. In the midst of rebuilding her life, Jo stumbled upon a new creative outlet.

“I’d always been a gardener,” she reflects, “and I wanted to make something for my new garden.” She joined a local class where participants were encouraged to create freely. Drawn to portraiture, Jo decided to craft a face in clay. “I didn’t think I was particularly artistic,” she admits, “but as I bumbled along, an excitement grew.”

That first sculpture was a revelation. Her piece was so good that friends asked her to make them one too. Then people wanted to buy her work. “I just kept making them!” she laughs.

That initial spark of joy she found, has evolved into a thriving career. Jo’s sculptures are now featured in galleries across the North Coast, and her striking works have gained a loyal following. “Sculpture elicits imagination,” she says. “Faces, especially—they draw you in, even if you don’t realise why.”

Later, Jo would face another devastating battle—cancer. But her story is anything but defined by loss. Her home in Murwillumbah reflects her vibrant and resilient spirit. The small urban block, not only transformed by Jo’s garden expertise and creative endeavours, is also a space where Jo has cultivated a thriving artistic community.

Twice a year she hosts a private exhibition from her home studio, showcasing her latest works. And here, in this creative space, she also runs monthly workshops, that are a joyful mix of camaraderie and creativity. I had the privilege of sitting in on one of her sessions, where she was demonstrating how to sculpt a nose. “The difference between a man’s and a woman’s nose is all about proportion,” she explains, prompting laughter as students examine their own creations.

“This is a happy class,” Jo says with a smile, as the group chatters and collaborates. The studio walls are lined with life drawings and paintings of the female form, while Jo’s serene-faced sculptures keep watch. Bach, her miniature poodle, yaps for someone to throw his ball. All are too engrossed for Bach today.

Anne, a student from nearby Tumbulgum, sums it up perfectly: “The dreamlike and quirky nature of Jo’s work just appeals. And Jo herself is so patient and encouraging—it’s the perfect environment to learn.”

Harking back to her straw bale workshops, Jo is a natural teacher. “Inclusivity is key,” she says. “No one should feel left out or embarrassed if mistakes are made—I make them every single time; it’s all part of the process.”

Through it all, Jo remains steadfast in her philosophy: life is serious enough. Art, she believes, should bring joy. “I want my pieces to make people smile, to bring an element of light-heartedness,” she says. Whether it’s a swimmer with a fish or a room full of women laughing as they sculpt, Jo’s work is a testament to resilience, rediscovery, and finding joy in unexpected places.

For more details on Jo’s work and exhibitions go to @jo_armstrong_ceramicsculpture