Reflections: Snot from the fire gods

The previous post reminded me of this piece. I think it was a saggar firing and, at the moment, I can't remember what I even glazed them in... but there are two glazes at work here (the lip of the bowl was dipped in something else, which gives it the aesthetic it has above). It's a pretty big bowl, maybe about 15 inches in diameter. But the reason why I like this piece, and was reminded of it from the previous post, is that the result was very much unexpected - particularly that effect in the middle.

When the piece came out of the firing, the ceramics teacher looked at me and said that I got some "kiln snot." I thought the phrase was amusing: "kiln snot." My bowl was a kleenex and the fire gods decided to blow their nose! Sometimes they bless you with something nice and sometimes they shit on it. It's part of the fun. The uncertainty. The unexpected. We try to control for the effects, adjusting where we place it in the kiln, trying to decrease or increase oxygen flow, manage runny glazes, use wax, control how long we dip the glaze - depending on our understanding of it, use electric or gas kilns, and do the best we can. But there is always the possibility for something weird and fun. I think it's best to embrace the uncertainty and the unknown as we perfect our craft and techniques.

While there is, at least for non-production potters (and this isn't to say that production potters don't put their own stamp on their work but part of their training is to make every piece the same - a mechanization of embodied technique), a deep personalization with the process of creating a piece and when you have something you really like, it makes the glazing process that much more difficult fully knowing that the fire gods may not bless it with the desired outcome. And when the work comes out of the fire, sometimes you love it that much more or learn to detach yourself from it, take a couple lessons for the future, and disgard it. I remember my old ceramics teacher from high school telling me that out of every 10 pieces he throws, he might like 1 or 2. I never understood this until later on and it's one of those things that I've remembered. And indeed, if it weren't for my mother, even as an amateur and hobbyist, I probably would have trashed most of my pieces or recycled them into something else (For the record, I would have kept this piece - never had the fire gods blow their nose before).  

Ceramics of Huancas

                                                                         Gabriella Filgueira

"Like in the old days, the women make pots of different sizes and types and even home adornments, such as candlesticks and incense burners characterized by their porous texture and which follow they styles of manufacture of the ancestors with decoration that all together does not damage the environment. Every step of the process is a small ritual.

...

Just as in life, the law of the survival of the fittest rules in the cusana. The pieces that do not rise to exact and proportional measures of materials break as if by magic. Not even the most advanced industry has such a sophisticated and rigorous rule."


The fire gods of ceramics are a fickle bunch


source

Giant Clay Pots and 8,000 year old tradition of Georgia wine

"I don't make anything special," he says. "I only continue in the way started by my parents."
 
Georgia's winemaking heritage goes back 8,000 years and centers on the qvevri, a cavernous terra-cotta pot shaped like an egg, lined with beeswax and buried to the mouth underground. But these ancient vessels were sidelined by the industrial wine production dictated by seven decades of Soviet rule. Over the past 10 years, however, qvevri wine has slowly recovered. Today, it is a calling card for Georgian wine around the world.

source

Jesse Prinz on Art and Emotion

"Our experience of art is fundamentally emotional, and wonder is the key" 

Listen to the podcast here @ philosophy bites

Challenge: Death Masks pt. 1

Found these randomly on the internet, thought they were pretty interesting.

Nicola Tesla, 1943

Beethoven 1812

Isaac Newton

Dante Alighieri

Queen Mary

Goethe

More here:
http://library.princeton.edu/libraries/firestone/rbsc/aids/C0770/


P.S. I don't know if this was a specifically European-American practice, but the death masks are overwhelmingly white men...

Julian Barnes: "Art doesn't just capture the thrill...

... sometimes it is that thrill."


"Flaubert believed that it was impossible to explain one art form in terms of another, and that great paintings required no words of explanation. Braque thought the ideal state would be reached when we said nothing at all in front of a painting. But we are very far from reaching that state. We remain incorrigibly verbal creatures who love to explain things, to form opinions, to argue. Put us in front of a picture and we chatter, each in our different way. Proust, when going round an art gallery, liked to comment on who the people in the pictures reminded him of in real life; which might have been a deft way of avoiding the direct aesthetic confrontation. But it is a rare picture that stuns, or argues, us into silence. And if one does, it is only a short time before we want to explain and understand the very silence into which we have been plunged."

read full article here

Reflections: Teacups

Can't remember exactly when I made these but sometime between 2009-2011. The idea came while drinking tea with my parents. They had a tea cup with two walls such that the outerwall and the innerwall was separated by a gap. The effect was simple: insulation; when you held a hot cup of tea, or whatever hot beverage, your hands wouldn't get hot. Separating the innerwall from the outerwall allowed you to hold the cup regardless of the heat. I thought this was great. The piece that my parents had was pretty remarkable, something that I could probably never duplicate, and had a hunch that it was factory made. I was intrigued nonetheless and wondered whether I could replicate a similar effect. You can see them here. Some turned out alright, aesthetically, others not so much; they all achieved the desired function of insulating the heat.

So with the idea of trying to reproduce a certain function, and a particular piece as motivation, I abandoned the idea of trying to replicate its aesthetic or style, which allowed me to be creative in achieving the desired effect. I remember sitting down on the wheel and thinking about how I was going to do this double layered tea cup. I could throw one cup and then use a slab over it, carve it up and smooth the lip, which seemed like a bit more work than desirable. Yup, I'm lazy.

The next idea was to throw a very tall and thin cup and then fold it over in the middle creating two walls with a layer of air in between. I could then smooth the lip and the foot over and in its leatherhard stage I could carve the outer wall to make it lighter and accentuate the gap. I figured this was as good a strategy as any.

I made the first couple with relative success. The process wasn't difficult but it soon became a process of getting the aesthetics to a point where I was satisfied with the outcome. And to be sure, I'd probably throw away most of them. As I began carving out the outerwall, I really started to like the cave-like effect or even something like a termite mound:

 So I tried to mimic the colours:

It even reminded me of lava rock:

So I tried to mimic that as well:

There was also a point when I got really sick of the carving and making sure there was a layer of air between the first wall and the second. So I decided not to do any carving:

As you can see, there is a pocket of air bulging out the side of this piece. For the one's above, prior to firing it in the bisque, I would have carved that pocket out. If you click the link above, you can see pieces where the outerwall didn't quite make the separation I would have wanted.
 
At any rate, the inspiration of these pieces began with something factory-made in my parents' cupboard and progressed into mimicking something in nature. I think the piece - from this series of teacups - I liked the most is probably the one at the top of this post, glazed in purple. The rest I don't care so much about and, if I was a professional potter trying to perfect my craft, wouldn't think twice about tossing them.

Svend Bayer

Lee Kang Hyo - Onggi Master

Reflections: Caterpillar

This is a much more recent piece, 2010 or so, and unlike the previous reflection on the multi-spouted slab, this was much more deliberate and intentional - although it didn't realize in the way I envisioned it (which tends to be the case). The title came after completion, which I'll get to in a minute, but the idea of throwing a large bottle (turned out to be... 14? 15? inches) and then cutting it into segments and stacking them in a stagger formation was an idea in my sketchbook. I suppose this was a test piece and actually trying to make it provided some insight into how I might go about it the next time.

After I threw the piece, and prior to cutting it into segments, I put a groove into the body with a wooden knife; cyclically going up and down. I then let it dry a bit. In retrospect, I should have let it dry a bit longer. I think I was a bit eager to move the project along but a bit more patience would have served the piece better in the long run. When I cut off the sections, they were still a bit wet which ultimately gave it a droopy look. And again, I could have let the pieces dry a bit longer after cutting out the segments but at the same time I didn't want them to dry out entirely. A nice leather-hard state of the clay would have been ideal. Another thing that struck me was that I should have thrown the walls a bit thicker. As you can see in the picture to the far right, the walls are a good size for a bottle this big but for the purposes I had in mind thicker walls would probably have provided a bit more stability and facilitated the stacking process. There simply wasn't enough contact between the pieces to firmly connect the segments.

Nonetheless, I made due with what I could. I was determined to make it work somehow. Another thing that became strikingly obvious and something I didn't think of in my sketchbook was the effect of gravity! Haha duh, right? What this means is that there was a series of balancing acts that had to go into re-assembling the sections into a stagger and how to position each piece became it's own little struggle. It got sloppy and assembling it wasn't as easy as I thought it might be. Cracks starting appearing because one section wasn't bearing the weight - too wet or the walls were too thin. This prompted the use of more clay on the sides and a viscuous slurry to give the smearing look that you can see in each of the pictures above. I liked the smear. Improvised ideas become "artistic" when it amends structural inadequacies.

I liked the idea of smearing clay and giving a certain "organic" texture to the piece. Something I'm likely to explore further when I get another chance. But the process of actually building this piece not only yielded a fun stylistic idea but it also gave more insight into the balance of patience and construction into making something like this work. How this piece actually turned out looks dramatically different from what's in my sketchbook. On one hand, there is the attempt to faithfully recreate the piece: imagination to reality. On the other hand, there is a beauty and appreciation in the messiness that comes from the actual construction. Perfectionism is abandoned when unforeseen practical constraints present themselves. In future attempts at another staggered peice, this will be the struggle: faithful recreation and improvised amendments. The vision and the adjustments. In many ways, it is a failure in manifesting the vision. But in its failure it came to yield something else and the act of creation became meaningful in other ways besides the ideal.

The title 'caterpillar' was, in one sense, describing a certain motion that the piece in some sense tries to capture. But metaphorically, the caterpillar repreents a dynamic phase in the ontological becoming of a butterfly or moth and connotes a process of becoming carrying a certain preoccupied baggage with perfection.  

(*the first picture is why you have someone who knows how to work a camera take pictures of your piece. The latter three pictures, as you can see, are evidence of my shotty camera work)

Reflections: Multi-Spout Slab piece

 

photographed by David J. Gilder

This was a piece I made in high school, maybe junior or senior year (2001 or 2002). The ceramics teacher gave the assignment of making a multi-spout slab bottle with the height requirement of 12 inches or something. All I can remember before making this piece was to go all out. I wasn't going to be bound by these rules and do the minimum requirement. So instead of 3 spouts, I ended up doing 9 as the piece evolved during the process. It stands taller than 12 inches, although I can't remember the exact height anymore, maybe about 15. I also did a slab foot (which is the part below the body of the piece) that provided an extra lift instead of just sitting there. 

After putting the bits and pieces together, the body turned out to be quite boring. A flat surface was not appealing. And as you can see, I began carving into the body. The design was simple: a diamond with a dimple in the middle and the repetition of course makes the pattern. In earnest, I don't recall thinking much about this piece. I didn't have a particular idea that I wanted to explore or any specific effect I wanted to achieve. I just kinda ran with the assignment. I threw a couple spouts on the wheel and figured I'ld make it somewhat symmetrical. Making the bigger spout in the middle and placing the smaller ones next to it reminded me of the nuclear plant in the Simpsons. The spouts on the sides were really just for fun but it was also done with the mind of balance, symmetry. Just having the spouts on the top didn't make it very appealing. 

I guess what comes out of playing around with the slabs, the spouts, and color scheme - if I were to force some kind of metaphorical story or meaning - is perhaps some kind of commentary on industrialization and its effect on the ocean, rivers, and streams. The pollution could be represented by the brown and the spouts give the impression of smoke stacks. The carvings give the body a ripple effect. I remember the top glaze was sprayed on and gradually blended into the blue glaze. I forget the names of the two glazes. At any rate, I suppose some kind of meaning or narrative or symbolism could be constructed in retrospect. But there wasn't much to it at the time. One of the beauties of something like this, and much of art really, is the ambiguity of conceptual space and translation. The viewer is entirely free to make whatever meaning he/she wishes. In this piece, it would be entirely legitimate and any attempts to discover the artist's intentions behind the piece would be an exercise of imagination. There was no initial intention behind the piece other than fulfilling an assignment and make it look good to my taste. No meaning, no deliberate symbolism, no nothing when the piece was done.    

Lisa Hammond

Jean-Nicholas Gerard

Challenge #4 Teapot + Cup

Anne Mette Hjortshoj

Flame throwing Bottle

Animated Greek Vases

Handmade pottery in Mali

here

Reflections: Luminated

So this is another piece that I enjoy quite a bit (most of them I don't really like and there's only a handful that I'm actually happy about). And if you can't tell by now, I like throwing bottles; I find them fun to throw and the form is aesthetically pleasing i.e. I think it's sexy.

In terms of timeline, it's also relatively recent (somewhere between 2008 and 2010). As you can see, I'm still very much into the handcarving. I've also been playing with the idea of giving the piece an old and tattered look. Like it's gone through a lot of wear and tear - something that showed endurance. I think the idea here, with the holes, was to make it look like a tin can that's been shot at. And the bullets have ripped through its being and yet it stands with character and beauty intact. I was also playing around with a lot of staining. The body of the piece is painted with red iron oxide and then wiped off, which complements the carving and gives it that texture and leathery look. There are other types of glazes that would bring out the texture and accentuate the breaks but I was doing a lot of staining at the time for two reasons: 1) I hate glazing - I find it the most difficult part and yet it is what can make or break the aesthetic of a piece. Sometimes the fire gods are good and sometimes they're not so kind. I found that staining was reliable and I didn't have to worry about the little variables from glazing; did I mix the glaze enough? is it on evenly? did I wipe the bottom properly? is there enough wax? blah. It becomes a hassle. So staining, although your hands get a nice coat of red iron oxide and have to wash them like crazy - even then you'll still have a spotty hand. But I don't mind this. And 2) I like the effect of stains.

When I made this piece, there was another person playing around with lamps. So I figured hey, why not? I decided to make some kind of luminary. The holes were supposed to help with the effect of the light - kind of make it look like something is bursting from the inside out. 

 In order to put a light bulb in I had to make an opening. I didn't want to make a conventional lamp, which wouldn't require any opening just making sure that the wire went to the top of the bottle. At the same time, I wanted the opening to bring out the form of the bottom... but what do you know, I made a vagina. It gave an entirely different twist to the piece with the light bulb in the middle, which I will simply leave to your imagination. I also splashed some red iron oxide on the inside. But, I regret doing this and it was too late to wash it off. I think it would have looked better without the staining on the inside. I also had the idea of lacing the middle together with some hemp rope - like shoe laces. I thought it would have a pretty cool effect and give a sense of binding something together, which would add to the theme of suffering. Never got around to trying it though. Maybe when I go back to my parents house one day I'll do it and see what it looks like. 

I glazed the tip of the bottle cherry red, which gave it a nice purplish magenta color. No particular meaning at the time other than wanting something reddish to complement the staining. But, like I just said, there is an interpretation to be had in a symbolic sense.

In retrospect, I wish the fire gods had graced me with a bit more running (the drip effect) from the glaze but I'll take it. I'm a bit divided on the glaze. Part of me wishes that I hadn't done it and part of me kind of likes it. I'm not sure.

So it was time to try it out. What did it look like with the red light bulb? From the back:

 

And in the dark, from the front:

To the side:

And again the front

 

It wasn't quite the magnificent effect that I had envisioned. I guess I thought the holes and produce a greater refraction of light - perhaps I needed a brighter light bulb. I tried it again with a white light but I didn't like it. So I played with the camera effects a bit and:

 

SuperSaiyan!! lol.

So I really enjoyed making this piece and there are a few things that I would definitely do differently now if I were to make something similar again. This definitely served as a "draft" or a kind of prototype for something in the future (whenever I get a chance to jump back into a studio that is). At any rate, I like the ambiguity and there's enough symbolism to give space for various interpretations (i.e. room for meaning). 

Sculpting demo

http://musingaboutmud.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/technical-tuesday-sculpting-demo-by.html