We were lucky to catch up with David Moldover recently and have shared our conversation below.
David, thanks for joining us, excited to have you contributing your stories and insights. Often outsiders look at a successful business and think it became a success overnight. Even media and especially movies love to gloss over nitty, gritty details that went into that middle phase of your business – after you started but before you got to where you are today. In our experience, overnight success is usually the result of years of hard work laying the foundation for success, but unfortunately, it’s exactly this part of the story that most of the media ignores. Can you talk to us about your scaling up story – what are some of the nitty, gritty details folks should know about?
In 6 years we’ve had 2 major expansions, which included 1 within our main space + the addition of a second location. I think we accomplished this by starting small, never digging a hole we couldn’t climb out of, being strategic with how we spend, playing the long game, and hiring the right people.
We only heard of Newburgh NY about a year before we moved here and invested everything we have. A friend in Manhattan introduced us by email to her friend that owns a building up here. We came to meet him on good faith, and pretty much made up our minds that we had found our new home right there and then.
We opened this studio with the goal of keeping it going indefinitely – We have a very particular set of skills, and We were looking for a place to settle and lay roots – to build something that could be a small staple of the greater community, the way so many pottery studios are. Someplace where all sorts of people could gather and find common creative ground. Someplace bigger than ourselves.
But even though our mission is noble, our business is no different than any other small business, facing the same harsh reality of being a small business in a big business world. And although we don’t have large corporate competition, we’re still ultimately effected by things like the global markets – or = things like pandemics and the inflation that follows.
Our business model is straight forward – We have a fully equipped pottery studio, and offer 3 services:
1. Memberships, which take much of the cost and labor out of the equation for people, and operate much like a gym membership for experienced potters.
2. 8 week courses in 3 different disciplines: Wheel Throwing, Hand Building, and Surface Decoration – for people who want to truly learn the craft.
3. Workshops and Private Events- for the curious, looking for an experience.
We started in a roughly 2000 sq ft basement space, within a larger building, but with it’s own street entrance.
It was 3 different smaller spaces originally, being used for storage – no bathroom, sinks, lighting, closets… just 3 rooms…So we more or less signed a lease for all 3 units, and then opened it up and built it out into 1 large functional studio. We had no outside funding, so this was the best we could afford at the time, but it turned out to be just about the the best thing we could ever hope for.
This first phase was funded out of pocket by myself and my wife, Jenny, who is the co-owner of the business.
We each put in 50% of the build out and start up costs (We weren’t married yet at the time) and were able to secure a small equipment loan from a local bank, which got us enough wheels and kilns to get started.
In the beginning we had 5 members, and maybe 20 students spread out over about 8 classes/week. We’d give a weekly private lesson if only 1 person signed up for a class.
We were the only staff, and Jenny has a full time career in the city as an Art Advisor that she commutes to daily in addition to the studio. So she assumed the role of financial manager (the unsung hero of any small business) which can be done remotely and around her schedule, and David managed the studio in person – everything from mopping the floors to teaching the classes, while doing pottery production work on the side. Very, very long days all around, but fueled by the adrenaline, anxiety, and fear of working for ourselves with no safety net or backup plan.
Whether we had 1 student or a sold out class, we gave it our all, and slowly those students started to progress. Word started to spread and classes started to grow, and eventually early students were becoming competent enough to become members.
Then the pandemic hit.
We were less than 2 years in – classes had just started to consistently fill up, and we were up to about 20 or 25 memberships.
We closed completely for a little over 6 months, and rode it out on what we had saved leading up to that point.
When we finally reopened we operated at limited capacity, without teaching, for more than 6 months. It was just barely enough for us to stay afloat.
And then, when we finally were able to reopen fully, there was an incredible turn of events –
Turned out, half of Manhattan and Brooklyn had moved up river to the Hudson Valley, and everyone was itching to get out of their homes.
Classes were selling out immediately, memberships nearly doubled. We were able to start hiring staff, both to assist in studio operations, and to teach.
One of the biggest problems any community studio faces is space – The biggest struggle is making sure everyone has enough room to work comfortably – that the clay bins and glaze buckets stay full, and kilns keep firing, no matter how many people are there or what they’re working on.
We need more students and members to both grow and to deal with rising cost of business, but we don’t want to lesson the quality of our service as a result.
Just as we started to cross the threshold of “Too many people”, and think about moving the whole operation to a larger, much more expensive space, We had another lucky discovery- our landlord informed us of almost 1000 sq feet of space on the other side of one of our walls. It was more or less unusable – dark, damp, and abandoned, almost a dungeon – but that depended on what we could use it for. We opened up a door into it, cleaned it up, dried it out, painted it, ran lights and electric, and were able to move every single one of our shelving units into it – At a fraction of the cost moving to a larger space would have run us.
Pottery studios have A LOT of shelving. They take up a lot of floor space. They hold dusty and damp things, that make a pottery studio dusty and humid. By moving all of our shelves into this other room we accomplished 2 things: We made the studio cleaner, more spacious, and more comfortable – and we were able to more than double our shelving capacity.
Which meant we could double our classes, and memberships again, without over crowding the space we were actually working in. More wheels and tables replaced the shelves.
After that first expansion. – we went up to over 100 students per session, and 70 active members. and theres still plenty of room for more.
Our 2nd expansion came when the storefront on the corner across the street became available.
Our adult classes, workshops, and members have been doing great, but one question we kept receiving was, “Do you offer kids classes?”
We love kids – have 1 of our own – but kids classes are their own thing entirely, and could potentially clash with the calm, adult, creative space we have going.
A second space across the street solved that problem.
It was almost too convenient, and we were able to negotiate a fair lease as an already established business in the neighborhood.
Calling in favors (including the general contractor who coincidentally is also a former student and current member) we were able to build that space out and get it ready in under 3 months – Opportunities like this don’t come often and we had to act fast.
We can now offer After School Classes, Home School Classes, Family Workshops, and Parties during the days.
We were even able to arrange partnerships with 2 local nonprofits, to give local kids access at no cost to their families.
In the evenings this second space is used for even more adult class and workshop programming.
So, up till now, some of the studio’s success and expansion is due to us being at the right place at the right time, and being strategic enough with the finances to be able to recognize and act on these opportunities, but more importantly, We wouldn’t have been able to get here without an incredible greater community around us (Newburgh, NY), which has welcomed us warmly and fully, which includes our landlords, and their buildings our business are housed in. It’s a small city with a big heart and it’s been really good to us,
The major expansions most importantly wouldn’t be possible without an incredible staff of knowledgable, passionate, hardworking professional potters, who understand and share our dream and mission. We’ve managed to slowly find and assemble this dream team, and with them our curriculum has sharpened, our teaching style has become more nuanced and focused, and we’ve covered vast more ground together than we ever could without them.
Not done yet, we still have big plans for the future…
David, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
My name’s David Moldover – I’m a potter, and co-owner of The Newburgh Pottery in Newburgh, NY. We’re a Community Ceramics Studio in the Hudson Valley, about an hour north of NYC.
We offer 3 services:
1. Structured Courses for both adults and kids who want to really study the craft
2. Memberships to our fully equipped professional studio, for more seasoned potters and ceramicists who need a place to work out of, and a community to be a part of.
3, Workshops and Private Parties for people looking for a fun unique experience.
I took my first pottery/art class my last semester of college on a whim, and ended up finding 4 important things that changed the course of my life forever-
1. That feeling any potter, craftsperson, artist, musician, chef, photographer, athlete, etc…. I imagine gets when they first find their “thing” – A “I need to do that now, and never stop” feeling. A feeling of, “I didn’t even know this was missing from my life and now it completely consumes me”.
2. A community of people also feeling it and welcoming me in.
3. Teachers who not only encouraged me, but inspired me
4. The love of my life – my future wife, business partner, and mother to my daughter – Jenny
There’s a repetitive cycle to making pottery: Clay gets Wedged, Thrown, Trimmed, Glazed, Fired, Repeat.
There’s simultaneously a comforting rhythm to the process that lets you settle in, as well as a feeling of constant anticipation that keeps you on the edge of your seat. It emboldens, but also humbles.
I decided I was going to chase the feeling full time just months after my first day, on a trip to Salem Art Works in Salem, NY. For the first time I was around what I saw as “actual working artists” outside of academia – People who, it seemed to me at the time, had cracked the code and figured out how to live a fulfilling life doing what they love.
To the young, naive, impressionable me, who had spent the past 4 years in existential crisis trying to figure out who I was- They seemed happy, comfortable, and living the way I wanted to aspire to.
I asked my professor, Nicholas Schneider – who in retrospect was probably younger than I am now, but who I greatly admired – what I needed to do.
He said I could pursue an MFA, but since I didn’t study this throughout my bachelors, I’d first need a great deal more experience- not just making pots, but working in the field – before I’d have a shot of getting into a good program. It could/would take years, but I had absolutely nothing to lose yet, and nothing else to focus on.
I told Jenny on one of our first dates, not long after, that I wanted to pursue this path. Maybe even open a studio or art center some day. No idea when or how, but that the idea was in my head = She immediatly said she would want in.
Jenny had grown up in small town rural Vermont, and the local art center and classes there were formative for her.
And so it was decided.
With lots to learn, and no way to even pay for studio space or classes outside of school, I started goin around to different studios to see what I could arrange – I mopped floors, cleaned bathrooms, clay traps, recycled clay – whatever was asked of me – in exchange for use of a studio and materials after hours.
I’d try to work during classes and lessons being taught, so I could eaves drop and pickup whatever tips and tricks I could from the different potters teaching at these various places. 3 influential ones were Karen Adelaar, Drew Montgomery, and Julie Knight. Who were all not only knowledgable, but highly skilled and very clever with how they used technique and materials.
I’d work all sorts of odd jobs on the side to pay rent and bills- whatever I could find that would still allow me time for the studio.
After, I’d go back and stay late practicing, and then borrow and read old Ceramic Monthly’s and whatever pottery books I could find during my hour commute in and out of the city.
Jenny – patient, wise, and knowing this would take awhile, went to pursue a career in the arts like she studied for. She managed artist Donald Sultan’s Studio, then worked at Christies Auction House, before eventually becoming an Appraiser and Director at Gagossian’s Art Advisory. She is also a workaholic, and for years We simply ate dinner after midnight.
Eventually, I found a large studio in Manhattan that was hiring a Manager – La Mano Pottery.
At the time, it was the largest privately own studio in NYC.
I learned the real ins and outs of a small private business at this job. 3 women owned the studio then – Peggy, Julie, and Diane- all with vastly different backgrounds. In my interview I told them I wanted to open a studio like theirs one day.
For whatever reason, They said they’d show me everything they collectively know as long as I didn’t open up next door and use it again them .
And they did. They were very generous with their experience, advice, studio, and their trust.
I learned much more than pottery there- I learned good business practices and time management – I learned how to take apart and repair every piece of equipment from Diane, who had been an engineer in a past career, I learned how to not just operate a large studio myself, but how to delegate and work with teams. Most importantly, I learned a lot about people.
They offered me a job as a teacher there too after a while – instructing kids and adults, Classes up to 20 people – Full Courses, Workshops, Bootcamps, and Private Lessons – which was invaluable experience. There was a group of really awesome potters teaching there at the time, and I learned a lot working with them, Eventually I earned the trust of a few groups of dedicated students, and they greatly helped me hone my instructing skills over the years. Many of them I’m proud to say are off still making and doing incredible things now.
Being a large studio in Midtown Manhattan, People would often reach out looking to commission work. The bosses started passing much of it on to me, and I was able to eventually build a small reputation and base for custom fabrication, which I would do before and after my shifts and classes.
I was working with chefs and designers more established then myself, and all of a sudden the things I made for them, albeit under their names, were being used in restaurants and shown in museums and galleries around the country.
We worked that way in NYC for a decade before I had saved enough money, and gained enough experience in both business and the ceramic craft, for Jenny and myself to feel confident uprooting our lives to take the leap for ourselves.
Now, we get to provide other people the same thing we found – A craft they can feel and dedicate themselves to – guidance through it – a culture and history t0 embrace – a community to be a part of, and a place to feel welcomed.
I don’t know what sets our studio or business a part from others, but I think what makes us good is that we’re only competing against ourselves, We only care about being the best studio we can be and doing the most with what we have.
We want to be the best potters we can be, not better than anyone else – We just want to keep pushing ourselves to keep learning more, and keep raising the bar. The higher the bar is set, the better we can serve our community. And the community must always come first.
Can you open up about how you funded your business?
We started very small. and with very little. Jenny and I knew we didn’t want any other partners or investors. We compliment each other and work well together, but We’d seen the chaos of Non-Profits, and how large partnerships can fall apart. The whole point of opening up our own business was to not have to answer to anyone else.
As far as we knew, the only way to get that kind of freedom was to fund it ourselves. .
It took almost 10 years for me to save my half of what was needed – I just kept squirreling away what I could.
2 good opportunities had presented themselves earlier, but I wasn’t ready yet – When Newburgh presented itself, and we visited for the first time, everything felt right – we didn’t have a number in mind of what we really needed, but we knew we had enough to get SOMETHING going.
Our savings went into building out the space we found- Architect, Electricians, Plumbers – it didn’t even have a sink or bathroom. Walls needed to be torn down/built. It was a pretty decent size job, but the space was generous and the monthly rent going forward was doable once all was said and done, since it was in an “up and coming” neighborhood, that didn’t have much else going on yet.
So it made more sense for us at the time to invest upfront, build out this affordable space how we wanted it, and hope the neighborhood came along (which it did) – then it did to find a more visible, ready to go location that would have been more expensive monthly in the long run.
Even building out the space to our specifications, we had to make a lot of tough choices. We couldn’t afford most of what we wanted in an ideal world – we just needed it to function. We needed running water, a toilet, good lighting…that took priority over the right flooring, wall paper, fixtures, and other aesthetic details that would be nice, but triple the cost of start up.
I had kept a storage locker for a few years, collecting pieces of equipment i’d found for free or cheap on craigslist, knowing we’d need it all one day. Those were our first few wheels and such.
Then We were able to secure a small SBA Equipment Loan from a local bank, who was investing in the community via an arts funding program. We made a list of new equipment we needed, they agreed to cover a certain amount, and we paid it off over 3 years.
All resources depleted, and still much needed, we ended up getting permission to raid the job site dumpsters of our good friend who builds houses in North Jersey. He’d literally call us every time the framers or cabinet makers finished, and we’d go collect all the big scraps of 2x4s and plywood. That’s how we built all of our tables, benches, shelves, carts, etc…
We started advertisting as soon as we signed the lease, before we even started the buildout, and had managed to register a handful of members and students before we opened – so our first month or 2 of rent was covered from day one, and we worked from there.
It’s very important to note that Jenny does have a full time career in addition to our business, so she was able to support us at home for the first year – I worked alone full time at the shop, and We didn’t hire any additional employees for about 3 years. This made it so we could invest everything back in, pay off our debt and start upgrading quickly, and start turning a profit rather fast.
We didn’t hire anyone until the business had grown to a point where we couldn’t do it alone anymore, and we could afford to pay for the quality of help that we wanted.
There comes a point where you can’t maintain a business, and grow it at the same time, by yourself.
Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?
Just over a year ago Jenny and I welcomed our daughter into the world, She’s the greatest thing we’ve ever made together, but I have had to adjust life, and my responsibilities in the business, considerably. This was a hard pivot at first, but ended up being the best thing for everyone.
I used to to work most days until 9 or 10 at night on average – I’d work the studio and do production work during the day, then teach most nights.
Now, our girl is in day care from 9-6, and I have to work within those hours, because my job is the one that has the option to be flexible.
Teaching was the first thing to go – the majority of our classes are in the evenings when people get off work, so now I only teach a few classes in the mornings. This was the hardest thing to let go and trust other people with, But ultimately it let me step back and see the big picture better. It gave me a good view of how we could improve our school for our students.
We have since found an incredible team of teachers, all full time potters with ceramic degrees and professional experience. Utilizing their different strengths, we’ve been able to put together a highly structured, systematic curriculum.
People undoubtedly learn better from all us when we usher them through this program, then they do from any one person trying to show them everything.
It of-course also allows for us to expand, offer more classes, and offer more professional opportunities.
The second thing to go was production work, which was easier to let go.
Up until that point, I had a very steady stream of commissions producing tableware for chefs and restaurants, and prototypes for designers. All individually wheel thrown and handmade, I enjoyed the problem solving involved in materializing someone else idea, and I really love the repetition of production work. It kept things interesting always having a new project to work on, and it was nice to sell the work before I made it.
This work is time sensitive however, and requires lots of early mornings and late nights, which I don’t have to spare anymore,
The hard part of giving that up is that I’m a potter, and making pots is why I got into this business. I still have 1 or 2 chefs that I’ll always want to work with, but I’ve recently started to pivot into more collaborative projects, over production work.
Currently I’m working on a project with a local chef/artist, Leon Johnson, who I’ve produced work with for his restaurant, Lodger, since we opened.
I’m throwing large serving bowls and platters, which he is masterfully painting with a cobalt wash – in the style of Delftware, Islamic Pottery, or Italian Maolica – an entire medieval bestiary. We’re having a show on April 6 to begin exhibiting the entire body of work we’ve spent months on.
Projects like this allow me to slow down, be contemplative and thoughtful rather than machinelike, and get back to making work for works sake, rather than a paycheck. I also honestly think I make my best work in collaboration with other artists – it pushes me to places I wouldn’t go on my own.
It’s more risky, but if it pans out I believe it will be more rewarding.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.thenewburghpottery.com
- Instagram: @thenewburghpottery
Image Credits
Top left picture of David and Jenny by Brian Armoured Bottom picture of single plated bowl by Leon Johnson