Process

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sunny days

July 26, 2010 in art, life | 2 comments

Every summer needs a song…Sunny Days by Jars of Clay.

A week or so ago we experienced our warmest (now there’s an understatement) day on record for the year.  At 6:30 that evening the digital thermometer read 124°F.  We figured the sun was hitting the sensor.  Sure enough, a few minutes later when the shade covered the sensor, the temp took a dramatic dive to 117°F.

In honor or maybe in spite of the occasion, I loaded the kiln to begin creating a little thermal momentum for firing the next day – which, by the way was another scorcher with a little humidity from the monsoon that has yet to truly materialize.

In general, I don’t do a lot of firing in the summers.  My vented kiln is in the studio.  The kiln generates enough radiant heat once it reaches bright orange heat that working in the studio gets a little uncomfortable.

Still, working in the heat isn’t reason enough to avoid firing in the summers.  Really, it’s the feeling that I need to run the air conditioner while the kiln is on so I don’t set off the fire sprinklers.  This is my fear.  I can see it all in my mind…disastrous!  When we began building out this studio, someone relayed a story to me about one of those ‘paint-your-ceramics’ places.  They had loaded the kilns and set them to fire overnight, to be finished and cooling the next day.  Apparently the heat set off the sprinklers and well…disastrous!  Thus, my fear was born.

I’ve been assured that the vented kiln wouldn’t set off the sprinklers.  Really? How do I test that?  Nope.  I turn on the air conditioner with the auxiliary fan – the auxiliary is really just to feed air into the studio because the kiln vent pulls air into and through the kiln, then vents it to the outside.  In addition, I turn on a standing oscillating fan just to keep the air moving.  I realize this is probably over-kill.  But, I haven’t had a heat related incident.

However, all that pushing, pulling and cooling of air raises the cost of firing.  I’m a bit frugal.  Whether out of necessity, habit or desire, I cringe at the added cost of running the air.  Not an “I’m losing profits” sort of cringe – more like, “this is going to be an outrageous electric bill” kind of cringe.

If I have to fire, I try to pack the kiln as tight as possible without compromising the balance of the process to produce quality work.  Still, as deadlines near, I don’t always have much choice if I intend to continue to work with retail outlets and private commissions.  As I look at the next tentatively scheduled firing…hmmm, it’ll still be hot here.

fig.2-7
Update: after additional tests and then a leap of faith, I found one more unexpected materials issue.  This one is an easy fix – just caught me off guard after I thought everything was cooperating.  Lost about 2/3rds of my last load.  Lessons learned.

praying for inspiration
Update: still praying for continued inspiration.  I’ve made progress with my vision and message for the upcoming show.  Still, there’s much more to accomplish.

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fig.2-7

June 10, 2010 in art, life | 19 comments

Shortly after graduating with my BFA, I bought the book, Ceramic Science for the Potter, 2nd edition, W.G. Lawrence and R.R. West.  There were plans for graduate school but they were delayed – waited for in-state classification.  So, I took it upon myself to continue some research.  It began with the purchase of this book.

For those who own this book, cracked it open the first time and understood the text with relative ease, I would suggest you to be more science than potter.  For others (like me) who sat down with the intent to uncover the answers to all your ceramic needs only to find yourself looking through the figured illustrations in an effort to connect the dots of the graphs with the appropriate words…focused…trying to really understand.  Yeah, you are more potter than science.

bisque

There are a few notes in the margins and a couple dog earred pages in my copy, but for the most part I dust it.  Until recently.

Early in May I found that I was having an absorption issue with my work.  The percentage was too high.  You can fairly accurately calculate the percentage of absorption of any given clay body by weighing a fired piece of clay to the nearest 0.1g.  Then, place the fired piece in a suitable container and boil it for five hours.  Afterward, reweigh the piece.  The percentage of absorption equals the gain in weight divided by the original weight, multiplied by 100.  Yeah, yeah…I didn’t do that.  I knew I had an issue because I had a piece that was weeping or sweating when filled with water.

Now, I needed to find the most immediate solution.  I made a list of possible jumping off points: glaze defects, glaze application, clay body….  As I ran through my list, I narrowed my problem to the clay body.  I’ve used this particular clay for several years without an issue.  This situation was frustrating.

Initially I focused on a glaze defect because I found that not all the pieces were affected.  However, after resolving the defect, I still had an issue – though not with all the pieces.  However, what I did have was the most recently purchased remains of 500 pounds of clay. That would account for the inconsistant results.  It may also point to a change in the recipe of the clay body, or a change in the mining location of a raw material, or…or…or….  Regardless, this wasn’t something I could control.  My solution here would only be a higher firing temperature.  That change would require me to begin from scratch.  Overwhelming thoughts of overwhelmed!!

In the meantime, I sold my clay to a sculptor and bought an old tried and true clay body – one with a tighter more plastic character.  I anticipate good results, but am anxious for the first glaze load.

mugs

~mugs

Not necessarily satisfied with just knowing the clay was the culprit in the demise of several pieces (picture the shard heap topped with dozens of mugs), I dusted off my copy of Ceramic Science for the Potter, 2nd edition, W.G. Lawrence and R.R. West.

Here I discovered two things:
1)  A more probable answer to the clay situation.
2)  I actually understand some of this book (you can say it: geek!).

But, I digress.  So, let’s start with the figured illustrations and work our way back to the appropriate text.  There it is – Fig.2-7, “Effects of firing temperatures on the absorption of plastic, medium plastic and short clay.”  The authors don’t go into a lot of details, the graphics are self-explanatory.  In fact, they meander into instructions for building a Globar thermal furnace for testing – because, of course, any potter with their nose stuck in this book must be planning to do an inordinate amount of differential thermal analysis.  (help me!)  Again, more science than potter.

At any rate, Fig.2-7 reminds me that plastic clay (clay that can be manipulated and still maintain its shape without cracking or sagging) matures at a lower temperature than short clay (clay that is not plastic – see previous definition).  Newly made clay is often refered to as short.  So, I theorized that my new lot of clay wasn’t just new to me, it was quite possibly actual new clay.

You know, I often ask myself why I don’t just draw…like, on paper.  What’s wrong with me?  Don’t answer that.

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livin’ the dream

May 18, 2010 in art, life, teaching | 2 comments

I respectfully refer to a friend of mine as a ‘granola potter’ because of his tendency to pare the studio process down; creating is simplified, glazing limited and firing loose.

photo: Amy Mcrary

For clarification: a granola potter is the mountain man potter living in self-imposed isolation in the wilds of Timbuktu (note: hypothetical location.  Feel free to choose any other appropriate geographic area).  This potter digs his own clay from the side of the river bed…any crawfish caught scurrying from the overturned rocks qualifies as dinner.  He throws his simple functional forms from the coarse local clay on a treadle wheel.  He makes effective use of a few simple glazes made from fewer raw materials with unidentifiable organics, spit and apple peels thrown in for color.  Color.  There is white.  Well, really it’s just light with generous iron speckling.  There are greens, browns and a varied assortment of brownish greens.

treadle wheel

~treadle potter's wheel

The whole granola potter ideal is about simplicity.  Simplicity of form, process and life.

Still, my potter friend isn’t atop an isolated mountain, cranking out pots on his treadle wheel while simultaneously generating enough electricity to boil water.  No, my friend is part of academia.  So…the conflict begins.  The nature of the learning process is to allow for risk taking and options.   The teaching environment includes the adrenaline junky, addicted to the rush of opening a newly fired glaze load.  Only to find them self with shoe boxes full of glaze tests – never zeroing in on the few glazes with potential.  This is the sort of student that tries the granola ideals of my friend.  The simplicity is lost…no one needs 15 slightly different, nearly identical rutile blues.  Focus.  Apply the best one to some actual work already!

~rutile blue

While the granola potter can become comfortable, maybe even complacent, in his work, the glaze testing fanatic can get so caught up in the process that they never apply the knowledge gained by the risk.  It’s important to find some balance in the studio.  True enough, I can really only manage a few glazes at a time.  However, I still want the option to move around or away with abandon in order to focus.  Refocus.  Redirection can only happen if we are willing to take a few risks; investigating options that can be feasibly managed.  I really only need one reliable blue.  But green…well, that’s a different story.

For those of you livin’ the dream:

Michael Larose’s Crawfish Etouffee
~this is a microwave version, so best get your treadle wheel going.

1 stick margarine (8 TBS.)
1 C. onion, finely chopped
2/3 C. green pepper, finely chopped
1/2 C. celery, finely chopped
1-1 1/2 lbs. crawfish tails, peeled (about 3 C.)
1/4 C. green onions, finely chopped
2 TBS. flour
1/4 C. parsley chopped or 1 TBS. parsley flakes
2 tsp. tomato paste
1 C. hot water
salt and pepper to taste
dash of garlic powder
1 TBS. ketchup
1/2 tsp.+  Tabasco

In 2 1/2 quart deep dish, put margarine, onion, green pepper and celery.  Microwave on high 10 to 12 minutes or until tender.  Add crawfish tails and green onions.  Microwave on high 5 minutes, cover with lid.  Stir in flour.  Add parsley, tomato paste, water, salt, pepper, garlic powder, ketchup and Tabasco sauce.  Microwave on 70% power 10 minutes, uncovered until thick.  Stir once or twice during cooking.  Serve over rice.

Crawfish Etouffee

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it comes with the territory

April 19, 2010 in art, teaching | No comments

I few weeks ago I subbed in a level 2 ceramics class at the college.  I’ve been out of the classroom for about three years.  It felt good to teach again.

I was asked to demo bowls on the potter’s wheel, trim feet and discuss creating sets.  When I give throwing demos I always warn students that I will likely go about the process in a very different way than their instructor.

By warn I mean,
“students pay attention, there’s more to this than you think”.
Or,
“watch closely, that part of the process you’ve been struggling with may present itself in a new way”.
Or,
“I’m not just doin’ this to hear myself talk.  Listen up and ask questions”.

I find that potter’s have a sort of regional dialect to throwing.  Add to that the potter’s economy of handling the clay and you’ve got a whole new process.

One of the questions asked was about some of my tools.  Potter’s tend to make a lot of their tools.  While this is probably true for many jobs that require physical equipment, ceramic artists have a rich history for creating very personal tools specific to their process.

In particular, the question was about my throwing stick.  I was taught how to make this tool when I first learned to throw.  Those wimpy Popsicle stick like throwing tools that come in the basic student’s kit just don’t do the job efficiently – if at all.  Beginning students find this to be frustratingly true the first, third or maybe the tenth time that confounded stick ends up skewered into the undercut of their pot, hypnotically spinning while they attempt to stop the wheel in their panic to save the piece.

made tools

~handmade tools

~from top:
platter rib and aluminium finishing tools, by Tomas Mendoza.
twisted cut-off wires.
throwing sticks – (left to right) they become smaller with use.

repurposed tools

~repurposed tools

~from left:
adhesive comb, dog syringe, dental tools, spark plug brush, fork, printmaking tools, watercolor tool.

Chinese tools

~traditional Chinese tools

~from left:
mouth glaze sprayer, trimming tool, finishing tools made of Water Buffalo horn, sculpting knives, rib made of Water Buffalo horn.

 

handmade brushes

~handmade brushes

~from top:
Chinese natural brushes of a variety of animal hair and feathers.  Brushes that I’ve made – smaller two of goat hair, larger made from dog fur.

If you’re in the neighborhood….
My functional work us now being carried by Practical Art in central Phoenix.  Be sure to stop in sometime.

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say cheese!

March 31, 2010 in art, life | 4 comments

baker, scoops

~baker and scoops

My first job was a little unconventional.  I was 15.  I was a dietary aide at a nursing home.  To clarify, ‘dietary aide’ is an administrative title for someone who makes sure residents arrive at the dining room on time, receive the appropriate meal as per their dietary restrictions, then cleans and prepares the dining area for the next meal.

As with any job, there are a few things requisite to the position that you wish someone had mentioned earlier.  You never discover this until you’re in the big middle of it.  For instance, no one told me I would spend a considerable amount of time tracking down misplaced personal items.

“Mr. Stevens, where are your teeth?”
“What, dear?”
“Mr. Stevens, whose teeth are in your mouth?”
“Mine.”
“Sir, I don’t think those are your teeth.  Do you know where you put your teeth?”
“No, honey, I sure don’t.”

Sometimes I spent an inordinate amount of energy retrieving flatware.

“Mrs. Gaines, can I have the spoon?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Gaines, we need to clean the spoon now that you’re finished eating.  Mrs. Gaines.  Mrs. Gaines, please don’t put the spoon…in…there.”

And, like clockwork,

“Mr. Hernandez, STOP!  Mr. Her…nan…dez, ahhh…I just finished cleaning the floor.”

The little things they don’t tell you during the interview.

berry bowls

~berry bowls

Similarly, there are a few necessities about making art that I wish someone had told me about earlier.  Like that whole taking photos of my work thing!  It’s not always addressed in the classroom setting – you’re busy creating.  All too often during school the taking of photos ends up being a hasty group project in an effort to get that show application in the mail before the deadline passes.  So much confusion in that situation!

When I graduated with my BFA, a friend and I took slides (yeah, I go way back) of my solo show.  The images were flat, the space inappropriate, the exposure and temperature way off.  What did I know?

When I applied for graduate school I knew I didn’t want to repeat the disaster I’d created from my BFA show.  So, I bit the bullet to hire someone to take the slides for me.  One of the best investments I’ve ever made.

blue platter

~blue platter

During graduate school I learned to take my own slides.  However, the learning curve magnified my frustration with the process exponentially.  So much so that I still took every opportunity to avoid taking slides.  In order to document my MFA exhibition as required by the university, I paid a photo grad, who’d won a travel grant, in film to take my slides.  They were beautiful!

All these years later, I still put off taking photos.  The fact that digital images are far more forgiving than slides does provide some level of comfort…or perhaps it’s financial security.  I have surely spent the equivilent of the boys’ college funds on horrible slides.

Though I have a working knowledge of the image taking process, I will admit that I don’t/haven’t taken photos of my functional work.  Until this week.  I’ve skirted that necessity for far too long.  They aren’t perfect.  I see much room for improvement.  Its a start.

vase and bottles

~vase and bottles

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