Sarah Tracton: Woman of influence

Multi-award-winning fine artist and bespoke lighting designer Sarah Tracton has pioneered innovative techniques that blend fine art, craft and functional design for years. Her practice encompasses a diverse range of media, including filmmaking, drawing and ceramics. Since graduating from the National Art School in Sydney, she has immersed herself in the world of porcelain, captivated by its potential for translucency when interacting with light.

Over the years, Sarah Tracton’s work has shifted from traditional vessel crafting, such as those that many ceramicists create for things like fruit, plants and knick-knacks, to exploring a hybrid of functionality and design by crafting experimental vessels for light. The result is ethereal and celestial lighting that remains playful and functional when internally lit.

*TriVertex light (left). Ladder light (right). Photo: Sarah Tracton*

Australian Design Review caught up with Tracton to discuss creativity, embracing failure and the Japanese philosophy of ‘kintsugi’.

Australian Design Review: Can you tell us who you are and what you do?

Sarah Tracton: Since graduating from the National Art School in Sydney, I’ve been captivated by the exquisite translucency of porcelain when illuminated from within. While honing my clay slip poured-on plaster technique, this discovery led to a transformative shift in my practice – blending fine art, engineering, technology, functionality, and craft. It’s a process that continually deepens my approach to material experimentation, pushing me to explore porcelain’s unique potential for ethereal luminosity in radical ways.

*The artist at work, Sarah Tracton. Photo: Jorge de Araujo*

ADR: For many artists, failure is part of the creative act and process. Can you talk to us about how failure, as a philosophy, informs your art making practice?

ST: Failure is an inevitable part of the ceramic process, especially when firing porcelain. Porcelain is prone to shrinkage, and even the occasional dramatic explosion en route to loading the kiln. The intense heat during firing causes friction against the kiln shelves, often leading to warping and cracking. These imperfections create gorgeously idiosyncratic, unpredictable shapes that only nature can produce. When repaired with gold leaf using the kintsugi technique, the cracks transform into something even more exquisite. It’s a reminder that nothing is unsalvageable or beyond repair. What is broken can become even more beautiful. This process of accepting failure as a transformative experience allows me to challenge orthodoxy, experiment freely, and take creative risks.

*The intersection of fine art, craft and functional design. Photo: Sarah Tracton*

ADR: Is there a particular failure that served as a pivotal or breakthrough moment?

ST: I was invited to exhibit at Milan Design Week just as COVID hit. What felt like a setback at the time actually became a turning point. The pause gave my technical collaborator and I the chance to fine-tune our prototypes, which became the catalyst for real technical progress. Lighting design is a long, iterative journey of production, especially when exploring how porcelain surfaces can best illuminate LEDs. As an artist I was always driven by instinct, but in design, the end-user is always in mind. This involved a shift in mindset. At that same time, I was awarded the Creators Fund from Creative Victoria, which allowed us to fully immerse ourselves in a period undistracted R&D. This led to a breakthrough that won us a Good Design Award, developing a system where the lights are powered and suspended by minimalistic slimline wire alone, eliminating unsightly 240V cord, and creating a mysterious illusion of mid-air buoyancy.

*The process of creation. Photo: Oscar Colman.*

ADR: Sustainability is a hot topic within art and design conversations. Indeed, the Japanese philosophy of kintsugi is in many respects about sustainability. Can you talk to us about how you came to utilise kintsugi in your art practice? Building on from this, what does sustainability mean for you, on a personal level?

Mass-produced fast furniture continues to proliferate despite our growing awareness of environmental sustainability. Disposing of furniture en masse that ends up in landfills is only a recent phenomenon. Furniture was previously made to last a lifetime. Repair, reuse and repurpose are not new methodologies. We need to rethink our relationship with objects and make better choices about what we buy.

As artists, we often source new materials and tools to test and prototype. While some materials go into production, much of it remains only partially used and ends up in the trash. Two of the most abundant waste materials in ceramics studios are failed ceramics and sink sludge. In my zero-waste studio, all prototypes are transformed into use. Functional art is my aim. Kintsugi repair embodies this philosophy. Instead of discarding precious broken shards, I use the technique to give my shattered porcelain a second life. By repairing the cracks with gold leaf, broken materials are reimagined as multifaceted, functional works of art, embracing circular principles and reducing waste. All my materials, whether LED strips, hardware, perspex or clay are sourced locally, which minimises transport energy, supporting ethical home-grown.

ADR: How do you juggle the often conflicting demands of work and life?

ST: I balance multiple roles that keep both my analytical and creative sides in sync. By day, I’m in a senior digital role at the Australian Energy Market Operator (AEMO), working alongside some of Australia’s brightest thinkers in the energy sector. I recently earned a Chef qualification at William Angliss Institute, completing over 800 hours of intense training. Full immersion in a world I’m passionate about — food. Working in a commercial kitchen feels a lot like mastering ceramics, where precision, repetition and a deep understanding of the process are crucial. Both are a never-ending learning curve. Whether I’m moulding a choux pastry or porcelain, it’s all about blending creativity with technical skill. Being in the studio, playing with porcelain slip and colour combinations, life and work become intertwined. When I need to recalibrate, I detach from screens and go into silent mode to reset. Reading is another sanctuary.

ADR: How do you define success, what does success look and feel like in the context of your art practice?

ST: There’s a beautiful synergy when one opportunity naturally leads to the next. The logistical planning behind exhibitions are often just as demanding as the art-making itself. Electricity is unpredictable, adding another layer of complexity to the mix. While I was exhibiting this year at the International Contemporary Furniture Fair (ICFF) in New York City, I was invited to exhibit at the entryway of the first Green Design Show in Melbourne. Looking ahead to 2025, I’ll be exhibiting at DesignArt Tokyo, with assistance by the Australian Government through Creative Australia, its principal arts investment and advisory body. Very excited to showcase in Japan, the birthplace of kintsugi.

There’s also that moment of triumph when a light, which began as a sketch full of technical intricacies, finally comes together in the last stages of hand assembly. When we switch it on, it’s that instant where art and science truly merge.