What's this, what's this?

Last month I set myself a making experiment. 

I have an idea for new work that requires joining two types of clay but because shrinkage rates differ, joining two clay bodies can lead to cracking, so much testing is required (again). I have been a "porcelain princess" for quite a while now so unwrapping a bag of Feeneys Buff Raku Trachyte (BRT) in my studio had me slightly aghast and I thought to myself - hmm, best get familiar with this clay body before leaping into anything. 

Enter the making experiment....

I decided to make a quick tableware collection that was simply intuitive. Not planned, sketched, measured, considered and dissected but drawing on an inherent knowledge of sizes and forms with the understanding that the end results did not matter. Not since my early days as a potter have I given myself such freedom. I threw quickly and loosely, turned ruggedly, glazed haphazardly and fired, well I fired like I always do, you can't mess with everything.

Apart from exfoliating fingerprints away it's a whole lot of fun to work with BRT. It's gritty, open texture means forms take shape rapidly and the turning leads to quite remarkable surface finishes. I used a cream coloured, satin glaze that was lying around, rather than start experimenting again, and fired the whole lot, small and big bowls, beakers and mugs, cups, saucers and plates, in one kiln load... without testing! 

The results are rustic to say the least and the naivety of the pieces remind me of work I made while studying.  And my goodness, are they spotty! I took some home to see how they looked away from the studio and they seem to be slowly creeping into daily family usage. The rims are chunky, the bases had to be ground with a Dremel but I have to say... I quite like them.

Testing - one two

I am deep in testing mode. Throwing hundreds of test bowls, weighing stains in 2 gram increments, mixing, sieving, pouring, firing, assessing, re-assessing... How are the percentages? Is the glaze too thick? Should I readjust the firing schedule. I need more test bowls, more weighing...

This is a time perhaps only craftspeople can really understand. (And maybe their partners!) The time that if you were honest about when working out your hourly rate of pay would really put you closer to.. um.. $3 an hour? The time that to truly answered the question "How is your work going?" would make people back away from you slowly at parties. And the time that requires a great deal of faith.

I have several goals in mind. I am continuing to explore colours for my stained porcelain works, attempting to develop a colour palette of translucent, high gloss glazes for a new collection of porcelain tableware and believe it or not I am still searching for my ideal, clear stoneware glaze.

While I have a vague vision of things in my mind I am always open to being led by unexpected results. I think you need to have an open mind at this stage otherwise you can end up feeling like you are banging your head against a brick wall.

The testing process is a little like reading a book. You are excited to begin and as things slowly progress, and if the book is good you become immersed. But sometimes you don't like where it has taken you and occasionally you are better off just putting the damn thing down and starting another before you waste any more hours, days... weeks.

A potter must test. These are the good, hard yards. It is how we get to know our materials, develop ideas, discover new things and expand our language. And every now and then the results are magic. 

Thinking bowls

"In the higher stages of skill, there is a constant interplay between tacit knowledge and self conscious awareness, the tacit knowledge serving as an anchor, the explicit awareness serving as critique and corrective." The Craftsman by Richard Sennett (p.50)

I am reading The Craftsman at the moment and loving every minute of it. Sennett often discusses the tacit knowledge of a craftsperson and the inherent difficulty in accessing this knowledge. It is hard to put into words the thoughts, both conscious and sub conscious, that run through my mind during the process of making and I agree wholeheartedly that knowledge and ability is best acquired through the act of doing and repeating.

As a teacher, however, I think it is important to impart all that I know to the best of my ability. Within the course structure I have developed for a (very) short course in ceramics, I find passing on information can be fairly ad hoc, or on a 'need to know' basis, as different students have different rates of learning and comprehension. Detailed conversations about specifics arise, and are most effective, only when students are attempting the task themselves or are naturally inquisitive about a certain problem.

I have been ruminating on my own tacit knowledge and the other day decided to jot down some of my mental meanderings as I threw some bowls. I was surprised by all that transpired despite realising I was only scratching the surface. To illustrate Sennet's point I thought I'd share my notes here, on my much neglected blog...  

BOWLS

When I begin a new form I play around with different amounts of clay. I weigh a few balls and take notes. As I have made many a bowl before I have a vague idea of the size of bowl I will gain from a certain amount of clay. This all depends on the type of clay being used - there is shrinkage to consider (10-15% after drying and firing) and the desired thickness of the walls. If the bowl is to have a foot it will need more clay in the base.

As I sit down to throw I think about the height and width ratio and the line of the curve. The point at which the wall comes to rest, the rim, is like a full stop at the end of a sentence, I don't want it to finish before my thought is complete but I don't want to warble on either. It has to be just right. Again I measure and take notes.

My work is quite minimal in form so I aim for a consistent curved line with no hiccoughs, interruptions or unnecessary changes of direction. I want a smooth surface that is comfortable to run a spoon over.

I am also conscious of the requirements of future stages. There needs to be enough clay at the base of the wall to support the form as I take it off the wheel and a slight taper up to the rim to give it structural soundness. I know the walls may lift slightly in the drying process so I make the width slightly greater than what I want the final result to be and I like to round and soften the rim so that it takes glaze well and doesn't become a rough edge. Turning the foot will alter the outside shape and in certain areas the form can't be too thin or it will collapse in the glaze firing.

Sub consciously, as I throw, I ponder the function of the piece. How it will be held and used directs my choices of size, balance, weight and feel. The "vibe of the thing." I also consider how it will be finished. Will I make marks on it that will affect the appearance of the form? How will I glaze it? Does the form listen to the glazes requirements - it's pooling potential or density?

I repeat and repeat and repeat. I might make ten or so and take them through to completion - turned, dried, decorated, fired, glazed and fired again. I assess the results, consult my notes and try again. Each series will resolve issues and the bowl will evolve, becoming something other than what I had initially imagined in response to the materials needs and because I have learnt more along the way. The piece becomes 'informed'... as I do.

Reading back I realise how obsessive this must seem, but when Richard Sennett writes lines such as...

 " the craftsman represents the special human condition of being engaged" (p.20)

and

"people can feel fully and think deeply what they are doing once they do it well" (p.20)

then I start to feel a whole lot better about what it is I do.

Upgrade issues

Nose to the grindstone is a fairly apt idiom for those that work on the potters wheel. I have nearly grazed mine on numerous occasions of late as I frantically make like a mad woman for the Christmas period. Loving every minute of it of course.

I had an idea to invest is some newfangled technology to speed up the clay colouring process so picked up this little beauty at the Daylesford trash and treasure...

No more holding the blender to mix stains in slip, I cunningly thought. I can get all sorts of things done as the machine works its magic. Alas this was not to be. While the beaters work a treat and the variable speed is a marvel, the bowl of this 1950's model Sunbeam does not rotate of it's own accord. I have to stand there slowly turning it, rather defeating the purpose. That and... well the walls of my studio were covered in splatters in an alarmingly quick manner. 

Not a huge success. But on the plus side I did have a lovely moment of being back at my mother's side, waiting patiently to lick the beaters as she whipped up her classic one-bowl-mix chocolate cake, .

So it's back to the trusty Kambrook for the time being...

Perhaps I'll try and modernise, maybe hunt down a 1960's model...

My happy place

A few recent snaps of my making space. 

Official opening to come... one day...

better late than never, right?!

Technicalities

I've been experiencing a few hiccoughs with raw materials over the last few months and am told I am not alone in this regard. Clay and glazes that have served me well for many years have become either unpredictable or unavailable. My understanding is that certain suppliers have gone out of business so manufacturers of ceramic materials are sometimes having to use raw materials from different sources. Part and parcel of making things from the earth I guess but rather frustrating when a few weeks worth of work are lost in the final firing! Urgh.

But hey, it makes life interesting and I must say those peeps behind the scenes in the wonderful world of pottery supplies are incredibly understanding and helpful when I voice any concerns and queries. As all potters know there are never guarantees when it comes to materials and I was expecting some settling-in issues with the new kiln, new studio and new work anyway. Patience, deep breathes, try again, enjoy the process....

But look at my gorgeous new GE and GE kiln. I'm calling her GiGi for obvious reasons - a little cutsey and inexplicably French but it accidentally stuck in my mind so I'm going with it. She's been firing like an angel and is insulated like nothing I have ever experienced before. I have had to lower my programmes as she likes to get hot and stay hot. In fact I believe cones are dropping after program completion as the temperature in the kiln is maintained beyond the scheduled cycles causing a longer soak than expected. Can't complain about that!

Lots of pots and news to come and more images... hopefully... soon...

Got my mojo back

Nothing like making a few bowls to make you feel better.

Thank you for the online and in person feedback to my last post. I knew it wasn't the end of the world or even the end of that range of work for me, I was just a little shaken. But I have loved making in  my studio this week and was even brave and gave more thought to my lines in coloured clay - still honest, not contrived, not Jasperware blue (yet!) and I think they've got something going on...

Out with the old

The best thing about setting up a new space is the resulting overhaul of established practises and routines. As I sort through boxes of wares old and new I realise just how much ceramic baggage I have been carrying. 

I'm in an 'out with the old, in with the new' kind of mood.

Test pieces, too many test pieces... 

The first lot to go mainly consisted of underglaze and glaze tests that were unsuccessful. I kept them just to remind myself not to do these tests again. Really. I haven't looked at them since they emerged from the kiln and have all the information recorded in visual diaries anyway.

Out they go.

Then I found another box of even earlier tests, from the days when I ran a retail outlet and even pieces from student days (and I don't want to think about how long ago that was!)

Out they go too.

While it is informative to see how glazes and colours work on bowl forms, they certainly take up a lot of room and will probably end up hidden in a tub somewhere holding up a potted plant. 

Enter my new regime...

Test tiles.. well yes.. not new really... in fact tried and true by many a potter including myself in the past. But given my desire to test all my glazes in the new kiln before diving into production I have decided to revamp my hodge podge 'system' of testing and taken to a fire brick with a hacksaw to create and nice, neat test tile stand.

 That's today's effort above. Neat. 

I plan to stick the finished tile to the front of it's corresponding bucket of glaze. Any unsuccessful glaze test in the future can be easily stored. I imagine I will still need to see how a glaze I like looks on a bowl but this is a much better starting place... I think.

Let see how long this lasts.

My new studio

I have relocated my making space from a warehouse in Brunswick East to a warehouse in Fitzroy. Not a big move geographically... but mentally, emotionally and physically it has been quite immense.

'Tis definitely time for a change but it's not without sadness that I leave my studio at Northcote Pottery - nine years, two locations, various roles, challenges and joys. I will continue teaching there which lessens those difficult goodbyes and I think I may have left my mark on the place too. Oops...

Enough reflection, the time has come to embrace the new. 

And there is much to embrace. Let's see...

there is shelving...

and more shelving

 a new wedging table built using the granite from my mother's sewing table

 a sprinkler for the exterior fake grass

 the loan of a small kiln to tide me over until my new one is built

 a quiet space for my wheel

a lawn mower for the (previously mentioned) exterior fake grass

 even more shelving...

and a door covered in blackboard paint for important messages and reminders...

just to name a few things.

I don't want to sound smug about it but I feel so damn smug about it...

Making space

 As I may have said, things are afoot, change is in the air and plans are under way.

My making space is on the move. Currently in a state of transition I am still in production at my Northcote Pottery studio but in the last couple of months a brand new studio space has been under construction... just for me. And I have to say I am pretty damn excited about it.

I shan't reveal too much at this stage as I prefer to present things in their completed state but just to give you some inkling as to why things have been a little quiet on the blogging front...

well, that would have something to do with a little bit of blackboard paint...

a fair amount of plywood and vinyl...

and a whole lotta fake grass!

More soon.

Testing, testing

It's most frustrating when you like the results after a bisque firing a whole lot better than after the glaze firing. That's seems to be the case for me quite a lot lately as I continue to test different colours in Southern Ice porcelain. Not quite right.. try again.. my studio is awash in test tiles.

Jane Sawyer recently drew my attention to a wonderful Grayson Perry video in which he referred to opening the kiln door as an "exercise in controlled disappointment". Ain't that the truth! I have learnt over the years not to heed my initial response to glaze firing results as they never ever match my fertile imaginings of what might lie behind that kiln door.

I unpack, inspect and walk away. I might grumble or huff a little but I stop myself from drawing any conclusions until I've had a moment (or day or two) to regroup and then I look again. Only then do I allow myself critical reflection. I take pieces home to look at them in an environment more natural than my fluorescent lit studio. I like to live with things for a little, pondering them at different times of the day,in various locations around the house, as I wander by or put them to use.

It's a busy time of year, orders to meet, markets to plan, commitments are stepping up a notch. And yet now, of all times, I have succumbed to an intense desire to develop new work. I can't help myself. Testing this, trying that. I'm loving it. Experimentation means opening the kiln door is all the more exciting and... challenging in regard to controlling the disappointment.

Go easy on the manganese dioxide Sophie!