... and Blending

I should probably explain, if I haven't yet - raku in Japan comes in two basic forms - red, and black. There's an earlier post with pictures of work from the raku workshop, which shows samples of each if you want to see. Or of course you can wait until I fire next week! The red style comes from the color of the clay, which is actually more of a yellow color prior to firing, and somewhat more orange after firing. It is used with a sometimes milky but mostly clear crackle glaze. The black is actually built with a white clay, then covered with a glossy black glaze. Prior to firing, the white clay actually looks rather gray.

Most of the pieces I've been creating have been built using either the red or the white clay, sometimes with both clays in the same piece, as you may have noticed from the pictures. So far, I've been keeping the two clays separate - even if I use them within the same piece, I'll use one color for one vessel, another color for the other vessel. For those, I am planning to use the traditional glazes, so one vessel will be black, the other red. However, using these two clays together also gave me another idea. I've seen some ceramic work here in Japan that utilizes different colored clays kneeded together and then thrown, so the finished piece has swirls of different colors. Usually I've seen this on teapots, or teacups, or the like. For awhile I have thought of trying something like that, but colored clays are generally expensive because the materials used as colorants are expensive, plus I don't throw as often anymore. However, that did get me to think about further integrating these two raku clays. The crackle glaze used here would probably look good on the white clay (very similar to what I do in America, I think) or even the green clay, for that matter. So, on one particular piece I'm currently working on, I've intentionally let the red and white clays blend between the two vessels, and I'm planning to use the crackle glaze on the whole piece. I think it should be an interesting effect. Here is how it looks so far:

I coil build all of my current work, adding a coil of clay one layer at a time and then blending it down into the already existing pot wall. So, when I am building two connected vessels with different clays, I usually coil each one up separately, without blending the clays except where they meet. This time, though, I intentionally made the coils long enough that they would occasionally overlap onto the other vessel. The process of blending the layers together and then smoothing them out caused some really interesting patterns... I am quite anxious to see how this one turns out!

Bisquing and Building

Today Antra and I are bisque firing some of our work together, with some help from Aedan... You see, I've never bisqued in a gas kiln before, and this kiln isn't like the ones Antra usually uses, either. Give me an electric kiln, I'd have no problems, whether it's an old one like mine that uses Orton cones, or a newer one where you can electronically program every step of the firing. Gas is a different story, so I'm glad to have the company and the help, even though it's not actually that difficult. So today is back and forth, back and forth, checking the temperature every half our or so, building a little more, checking again, build more, check... It breaks up the day nicely, but perhaps a little too much. It's been difficult to really get settled into the pieces I'm working on today.

As for what I'm working on...
I decided yesterday that maybe completing 9 out of my 10 original ideas would be sufficient. There is this one piece I just can't get excited about making, so I think maybe I should let the idea simmer awhile longer before I use it. Besides that, a few days ago I had a new idea, so one of the smaller pieces I made suddenly became more interesting, and I added quite a bit to it. Here is the picture:

The middle piece is the only one I was intending to make at first. And I'm still debating over the smaller piece, whether I should use this one or a different (but similar) one.

So, all 9 pieces are well on their way now, either drying or bisquing or halfway built. It's exciting to know I'll finally raku soon, but sad to realize I only have a couple more days to build if everything is going to be dry in time. I have to say, I'm really enjoying the work I'm doing here. I like making these little vignettes, using more than one vessel to express a more complex idea, rather than just making cute little Emergelings all the time. These new pieces are much more expressive, and feel more like they ought to be displayed in a gallery, rather than sold at an art fair. I'm glad to have that balance. I've enjoyed the art fairs, I certainly have every intention of continuing to do them... But I am also glad to also be making some things which, I feel, have the potential to fill out a different aspect of my career.

Two Weeks?

It is hard to believe my time here is nearly halfway gone already. I feel like I've done so much, but at the same time, there is so much more I would do if I had more time. Most people stay here for about 3 months rather than just one, and I'm glad that I make relatively small pieces and use a relatively fast firing process. It would be nearly impossible to undertake a larger project in so little time, but for me, this is sufficient. For now! I'm already anxious to find new places to visit and work, and possibly to return here someday.

I'm still building new pieces this week, but I will probably be done with all that by Saturday or Sunday at the latest, to make sure everything has time to dry, then be bisqued, glazed, and fired. I actually might run my first bisque tomorrow, but there is some question about who needs to use which kiln and when, and rather I should bisque all my different clays at the same temperature. Japanese raku is fired at a much lower temperature than American raku... but the Japanese process itself and the differences between the two processes deserve their own post, later.

For now, back to work...

5 and counting...

I have 5 pieces done, drying, and soon ready to bisque. I now think that planning to make around 10 was not at all too ambitious, especially considering that I've already started 2 more of the main pieces, and I have about 5 little Emergelings in various stages of production that I will of course be test firing before any of the bigger ones go anywhere near the raku kiln.

As far as I know, I will be bisque firing with a couple of other people on either the 21st, 24th, 27th, or some combination of those dates, and rakuing whenever I please after that. It is perhaps worthy of noting that if you are going to be here for a relatively short stay (1 month, perhaps?) that, though the staff may not mention it, you ought to get yourself on the kiln schedule as quickly as possible. It's an amazingly busy place.

Anyway, thought you all might like a preview. I already have names and glazes picked out for these, but I did just say this was only a preview... Comments, thoughts, suggestions, etc. would of course be appreciated!

Form, Glaze, and Little Words from the Past

It's odd how little phrases, little bits of conversation can stick in your mind and have such an effect... Strange to spend so many years in school, but what might really make a difference are those few paragraphs, picked here and there from lectures by your favorite professors, or a little mental collection of offhanded comments. I have so many of these little memories, little lights that came on in my head because of words that may not have immediately seemed to be full of wisdom, but in time came to give remarkable insight into my life and art.

One early class I had in ceramics included a day's lecture on glazing, which of course it inevitably would. At the time I know I was less than fascinated, having played with (or at times, more seriously, actually used) clay since I was a child. Glazing was old news, something I'd never really considered except as another part of the process, and I was already fairly familiar with various glaze techniques. How could you have ceramics without glaze? It just... was. But then the professor mentioned that most potters tend to favor one part of the process or the other - the building, or the glazing. He was one to prefer building, and to use rather minimal glazed designs. Of course there are others who focus more on the surface than the shape of the form, who perhaps create very simple forms and spend hours decorating them. He also spoke of the importance of considering the glaze while creating the form, to create the piece as a whole, and have both processes compliment each other, no matter which you might enjoy more. I listened, finally fascinated, because things which had been in the back of my mind for so long were finally being put into words.

For the first time, I found myself considering the finished product as the combination of two parts. I started to question in my own work whether I was favoring the form or the glaze. Eventually, I began to really strongly consider what I was going to make and what it would look like in the end before starting to make it. And I discovered, slowly, that I really do prefer the building. I love the form, I love the expressiveness of the shapes I can make. I love the clay for being clay, not just a substitute for paper or canvas. I love raku and soda firing and wood firing and pit firing because they show off the potential of the glaze and the smoke and the fire to create such beautiful natural designs with so little human guidance. And I really do prefer to spend a great deal of time considering the forms I am building from every possible direction, making certain that they flow, seeing that every curve compliments the others. I also know how important it is to know my glazes, even if I'm not as excited about them, and to know what they are capable of, even if the result is a bit unpredictable.

Another moment which has stayed with me is when that same professor, a few years later, told me I had a great grasp of form - a moment when I glowed a little inside and started trying even more to create something with a beautiful feel to it. At the same time he also told me to be more careful, to make the curves smoother, the lips more deliberate, and the surface more intentional and finished. I think he'd be happy to know I'm now obsessed with smoothing out my work, and I never even start a pot without my metal scraper anymore :)

Yes, it's interesting how such little, brief conversations can serve to make you grow, to make you think, to give you direction. One of my Japanese professors stressed how impressive it might be to fill out applications in both Japanese and English, and now, when I can and when it is relevant, I write in both languages. Another professor gave me advice when I expressed a bit of concern about what on earth I was to do with a ceramics degree after college. He said, take a year and make everything you possibly can. Work hard, do nothing else, apply to every opportunity, contest, gallery, or exhibition you are interested in. And in a year, evaluate where you are. See if you are getting good results, and if you think you can make a career of it.

It's been more than a year now, but here I am, and with every breath and every heartbeat I'm still trying my hardest to make something amazing. And finally, despite any confidence I may have previously shown, I'm starting to really, deep down believe that I can go somewhere with all of this.