Secondly, my chimney was also a bit short, so I gritted my teeth and bought another taller ladder, and enough bricks to add ten rows to the chimney. The expensive part was the ladder — $90. I also dropped my grate one brick level so that the firewood rests closer to the coals.

The upshot is that the kiln fires to cone 10 without having to resort to careful stoking of kindling at the end and it doesn’t smoke while being used in boury box mode. In order to melt cone 11 flat, I still have to stoke small sticks by watching the chimney till the flame disappears, then stoke a stick, watch the chimney flame till it disappears, stoke a stick, etc. etc. I don’t need to go that high, but I like to know I can. I think the extra high temperatures sometimes cause interesting cracking patterns on the surfaces of the pieces.

I still like want this kiln to perform somewhat like an anagama — just smaller with a shorter firing period. So periodically I open up the front inlets, brave the smoke, and beat and stir the coals vigorously. It seems to be working. For example, the piece below was glazed only on the inside. Despite the fact that the outer surface was completely raw, the fire exposed side developed almost the same glaze color as the white liner glaze except with the added bonus of areas of ash based olive green (bottom right photo shows the front side). I think with a little practice, I may be able to avoid glazing completely and just rely on the fire. Click thumbnails for the big picture.

Steve Harrison’s (link 2, link 3) Suggestions:

I think that the problem with the smoke coming out the lid is mostly to do with the short chimney, as you identified, but I also think that it is to do with the big air inlet/stoke holes at the bottom. Once I have enough ember to get the wood on the hobs to ignite, I close up the bottom hole completely and only have a smidgin of air going in under the embers through the mouse hole. This concentrates the draught in through the top holes and draws the smoke and flame down into the throat arch and chamber.

Claudia MacPhee’s Suggestions:

Thinking about how my little kiln fires makes me really wish I could go out and run a load through it now! Alas, too cold….Just let me know what parts you want to see and I will try and get some photos up on my blog.

I made the bourry box exactly like the one in the diagram in the book. Counted the brick and didn’t use any ‘innovation’. I put in the brick hobs and cut my wood exactly 26″ long. A bit of a pain, but works well.

Usually I start a small campfire in the bottom of the box about 9 pm. Two big pieces with a bunch of paper and small stuff between them. I feed it from the bottom until it is going good with a few coals, then pile on more whole logs through the top. Don’t get too excited about a huge fire at this point. Mostly just keep it going until there are lots of coals then heap if full of wood, close the damper and put the three bricks in the front.Primary and secondary air vent are closed all this time. It is usually around midnight and I go into the house for a nap. Set my alarm for 4 am., get up and make a pot of tea. Fill up my thermos and get a cup full and go to check the kiln. There will be some coals left and I unbrick, pull out the damper and stoke it up, again on the bottom. Just keep filling the box with all the junk wood I have collected from around the yard and odds and ends from bucking the slabs exact. About every ten minutes I throw more stuff in. At this point I use aspen (tons of ash), pine/white spruce and hunks of willow. Willow is the hardest wood I can get. It grows very slowly up here with lots of cold and little rainfall so is tight and heavy. The willow I use has been dead for many years and is bone dry. It makes a really good, long lasting coal bed.

After about fours hours there are enough coals to go to the hobs. This is one of the coolest parts of the firing. I will take an armload of slabs, three to four inches thick, open the top lid and quickly place them on the hobs-it is like magic! They burst into flames and are pulled down into the kiln! After this point I keep the hobs full. The point here is to never let a bunch of cold air flow between the pieces of wood. So as it burns up put more pieces on the opening holes. Hard to describe. I try to lay the slabs in with the cut side up. There are always at least two layers. Also start using the primary air. The bottom three bricks are put in and clammed up.

I take a clock and a book out for the firing. Put new wood on every 10 to 15 minutes. Fill her up, go off and feed the chickens, fill her up, go inside to get some food.

My first firing I grossly under estimated how much wood I’d need. By 6 pm I was using my time between loads to buck up more slabs. Had enough time to do an entire wheel barrow full between stokes. That never happened again! Also I have never used the pyrometer to fire. Every body gets so neurotic with those things. I try to take the “Laid back” part seriously. I live in a beautiful and quiet place. I sit there and listen to the birds, read my book, hear a boat out on the lake or a plane going by.

After I go to the hobs I’ll begin the side stoking. Now this is the pyro dream, a technique from the Aussies known as ‘flamethrower’. You pull the brick, place a handful of small, long wood in and just hang on to it for a bit. It blows up and the flame goes in huge circles.

So the rhythm is-fill hobs, pick up sticks, pull brick, put in wood, hang in there for a couple minutes, drop them in, replace brick, sit down, drink tea, read book or stare into space for ten minutes. I have mouse holes but have never used them. Also have never needed secondary air. Usually keep the primaries about half open, just enough air to keep it from ‘chugging’. My first firing I had cone 11 (highest one I had) melted. Got some awesome hare’s fur on some bowls near the front. Didn’t side stoke that one so the pots near the back when in for round two next time.

I am dedicating my life to melting as much of the Coast Range as possible…lots of goodies to melt in this part of the world, plus a nifty bunch of volcanic ash, local copper and glacial silt that makes wonderful glazes. Chinese stoneware glazes, especially the iron ones really do it for me, I love them lots. I put in lots of glazed pots, but want flashing on them rather than a ton of ash. By this time I know where to put pots for what I want the kiln to do to them. Believe me, you can get all the ash you want at the front end. This is getting much too long. If there are any more questions, just ask. I have found this a really fun kiln to fire, and can do it by myself. I have children your age, so if an old lady can do it, how hard can it be??

Good luck!

Claudia

Aside from the work, firing the anagama is expensive.  Just the wood itself is a significant expense.  For example, I’ll usually burn 2.5 – 3 cords of firewood (@ $200/cord) and two cords of millends (@ $125/cord), plus use about $75 worth of propane.  Then there are lost minerals — every firing uses a decent amount of fireclay and grog in wadding (I’m guessing about $20 for wadding).  Other consumables include welding gloves (I go through three pair per firing: another $40), I easily lose five firebricks per firing at $2.50 each (and I have to Canada to get them): another $12.50.  It seems I buy a kiln shelf every other firing at about $35 each, so $17.50 per firing in shelves.  Without much effort, we’re talking about a cost per firing of approximately $1000, not including clay to make the pieces or food to eat during the firing if, as with me, you don’t live where the kiln sits.

So while I love firing the anagama, I’ve been wanting a kiln that would allow me to wake up on a Saturday, decide on a whim to fire, and be doing it that evening.  My interest in a throat kiln which would allow me to do such firings began with my interview with Steve Harrison some years ago, and even more so after I received a copy of his book “Laid Back Woodfiring“. 

Building (only a sketch, more details in later posts)

I plan to post a more detailed description of the construction in the coming weeks.  For now, I will say this: I basically built the kiln from interview with Steve Harrison’s plans in Laid Back Woodfiring, although in a nod to Furutani, I built a tiny sort of sutema between the kiln body and the chimney.  I didn’t build in any mouseholes, and instead of connecting  lower legs of the angle-iron braces on the firebox corners near the kiln body by running the brace under the kiln, I simply connected them at the top and buttressed them at the bottom.  I also set up the front air vents in a manner that I’m more familiar with.  I did none of these things for technical reasons, and I am not in the least suggesting that my kiln is better than Harrison’s — I just did them because it was either easier and I’m sort of lazy, or because I wanted to continue working with systems I’m already somewhat familiar with because of the anagama.

OK, by now, you’re probably wondering what the kiln looks like. Here are a few pics:

preheating with propane (larger image)

firebox and kiln body (larger image)

glowing kiln (larger image)

firemouth (larger image)

chimney (larger image)

I had the lid seen in some of the pictures above fabricated from steel and I attached refractory fiber to the inside of the lid (nicore wire strung through porcelain buttons I once-fired in my raku kiln). I cut out spaces in the fiber for the primary air inlets, and riveted a piece of angle iron to the top of the lid to act as a ledge for soft insulating firebrick splits which I intended to use to control the primary air inlets.  During heat testing, I realized that fire seeps up through air inlets, travels along the metal under the insulating firebricks, and then escapes.  Because some parts of the lid are hot and others are not, the surface takes on the shape of the ocean in a hurricane.  To remedy this, I riveted another piece of angle iron to the lid an tested again — same result although more constrained in the affected area.

Worse than the seeping fire though, was the smoke.  Prodigious amounts of smoke exited through the primary air inlets and made it practically impossible to stand next to the kiln.  Seriously, to fire the kiln with those air “inlets”, or smoke outlets as I think of them, I’d need a fireman’s respirator.  It would have been worth trying to see if carving the bricks so that they filled in the air inlets but also had a ledge so that they could not fall into the firebox, would have worked better, but there was a major problem with this idea — I would need six bricks and I had only one, so a trip to Seattle (three to four hours round trip) would have been necessary.  Besides — if I did open them to allow air “in”, what exactly prevents tons of smoke from seeping out the top of the boury box?  Either I don’t have a good understanding of how the boury box design works — I never hear about them belching smoke like a coal fired steam engine — or people don’t talk about that.  The only thing I can think of that would make it work would be a chimney twice as tall or taller, but I don’t want to build a 20 ft chimney let alone buy any more bricks.  Besides, smoke rises and a hole right over the fire is going to let smoke out unless the chimney has enough draft to power a rocket, and I don’t want the flame to move through the kiln that fast.  Anyway, I didn’t want to suffer so I took some scrap fiber and sealed up the holes, figuring I’d just use the front air inlets as I do with the anagama.  Then I weighted the lid to give it a good seal and moved on.

Firing

Firing the kiln went very well.  I candled the kiln overnight through the front air inlets (secondary inlets in a proper boury box, now primary in mine with the lid vents sealed) with the same raku burner I use to warm up the anagama.  Over the course of three hours, I brought the burner to full power and added in a weed burner also gradually brought to full power.  At 11:30 am, I started throwing in charcoal while the gas burners ran, and in about an hour, emptied a 20 pound bag of charcoal into the firebox.  This gave me a nice coal bed, at which point I began stoking small sticks and adjusting the gas to keep my temperature rise steady with same method I use for the anagama as demonstrated here:

Once I hit about 20 mV in the front and 17 mV in the back (I could see the edges of bricks inside the kiln glow in the mid-teens), I attacked, stoking aggressively with wood chopped thinly enough to stoke through the front air inlets.  I would periodically hold my breath, and drop larger logs on the hobs through the top lid, letting those burn till they were coals and would crumble on the next stoke.  Two to three logs seemed like a good amount to stoke.  Prior to stoking the top, I’d crush down the coals on the floor into small pieces and push them into the kiln, hoping to get some koge effects on the front pieces.  After stoking the top, the temperature would rise, and when it began falling, I’d go back to stoking the front inlets.

This process worked very well, and with a little side stoking, the front and back temperatures were pretty even.  Eventually, cone 9 laid down and when cone 10 was bending, I called the firing.  This occurred around 50 – 52 mV (new thermocouples — they will get less sensitive as they get used more).

NOTE: pyrometers are voltmeters and pyrometers that will output to a computer via a serial port are expensive while voltmeters that will do the same are cheap. I am mostly interested in whether the temperature is rising or falling rather than a temperature readout, so I use voltmeters to monitor temperature. This is why all my references to temperature are in millivolts rather than degrees.

I capped the chimney (I made a slot in the chimney for a damper but have not cut a shelf to fit that yet, so I fired damperless like Furutani suggests for anagama kilns) sealed up the kiln with a good amount of coals on the floor and wood still in the burning phase on the hobs.  My thought was that the kiln would cool quickly and closing the kiln with remaining wood would slow that down.  My worry was that ashes would blow through and make dry gray sandpapery pottery.

The firing took about 11 hours.  I burned about a third of a cord of wood (mostly firewood, but a good armload of thin millend sticks I have) and used approximately five or six gallons of propane (I use two 40 pound tanks on the raku burner and one 30 on the weed burner — they were still very heavy after I was done).  I used a couple pounds each of grog and fireclay, and 1/4 package of coconut husk as combustible material in the wadding.  I could stoke the kiln with regular leather/canvas work gloves that cost $2/pair and ruined only one pair.  I doubt I spent more than $85 firing the kiln.

Results

I was fairly happy by the results.  The pieces I put in the kiln were a random assortment of rejects that have been sitting about the studio for a while made of various stonewares, porcelains, and recycle clays.  I received a bit of haikaburi glaze on the front guard piece that received the brunt of the coals I’d push into the kiln. I’m quite pleased with the warm blush on the stonewares but the porcelain is a bit too pasty-dumpling-white.  I didn’t quite get high enough in the back, or wasn’t high enough long enough there.  Feldspar granules in the recycle clay peaked out, but did not melt.  Also, I wouldn’t mind a bit more wood ash on the fronts of the pieces.  All that said, for a first firing in a new kiln, I feel it was a complete success.  For my next firing, I will sidestoke a bit more aggressively and add 50% to the amount of time spent firing with wood (measured from when the charcoal first hits firebox).  I think that will ensure I fire the back of the kiln to temperature, will deposit a little more ash, and might be enough time to let the feldspar melt.  I might also let the kiln get a little hotter — my silica sand didn’t melt at all and I’ve been having fun sprinkling that on pieces recently.

Here are some pieces fresh from the kiln. I’ll devote a post to pieces later.

cones 9, 10 & 11 (larger image)

fire blushed bowl (larger image)

thin liner glaze (larger image)

light ash glaze on front (larger image)

coals make haikaburi (larger image)

back underfired (larger image)

Note: The iTunes link requires iTunes to be installed on your computer. If you do not have iTunes, use the “direct” link — it is probably most convenient to right click the link, choose “save as” from the context menu, and then listen to the file in your preferred player after it has downloaded.

Gas’ quest for a touch of his home country led him to acquire broad knowledge about medieval Japanese wood fired ceramics. Wanting to understand the pottery he loves on its innermost levels, Gas delved far beyond simply studying pieces and identifying techniques — he began building his own wood fired kilns and making pottery to fire in them.

Gas’ expertise has been of use to collectors and museums, as well as to himself in his work as an art dealer. His next project will be assisting the Fitzwilliam Museum (Cambridge England) in cataloging about 200 Japanese wood fired wares it has had in storage for some time, but which have not been appropriately identified for display. Gas has also been building a comprehensive website over the years. Take a peek at his kiln building, his pots, and a very informative section on identifying various wood fired effects. (I want to emphasize this last link — it is very helpful)

As for his “hands on side”, Gas is a prolific kiln builder. In the last dozen years, he has built thirteen kilns — six of which have been anagamas. He prefers to build his kilns following traditional yet simple designs — for example, his kilns have no ash pits or complicated damper systems. His designs were influenced by his visits to archeological kiln sites in Japan as well as his discussions with Japanese potters practicing the ancient wood fired arts in our modern times. I was surprised to learn during the interview that Gas discussed kiln building with Furutani Michio, a potter whom I greatly admire (about Furutani: reference 1, reference 2, reference 3). Gas has also experimented with mini-anagama designs which were influenced by the side-draft wood kilns of Thailand.

Photogallery

During our interview, Gas brought up an idea that I had not considered before, but left me quite intrigued. Ask yourself this question: should a bowl or cup weigh an amount that is similar to how much it looks like it would weigh, more than its appearance suggests, or less than one would guess by looking at it? Gas’ insight into this question is that if the cup or bowl is lighter than one expects, it will be pleasurable because a functional piece is completed only when it contains food or drink, substances which add weight. Thus a perfectly formed bowl or cup will weigh less than one might guess, and feel just right only when in use.

Stop and think about that for a while. It’s a fascinating idea and very different from what I was taught in college. I’m going to put this idea into practice, though I imagine it is nearly a feat of true magic to make a cup feel lighter than it looks. I sense much hard work and many failures in my future.

As a final note, receiving email from Gas is a pleasant experience — he always includes a lovely image that can somehow make one simply stop for a moment, and let the hectic world pass by.

Photogallery

Last Friday afternoon, I stopped by my friend’s office and picked up a chunk of his property — neatly contained in a ziplock bag. Then on Saturday, I pounded up the block by wrapping it in a heavy plastic bag and sieving out the powder.

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Once I had a bowl of dust, I took it into the studio and made four test clays (all measures volumetric, not weight based):

1. 100% test clay. Back right in photo below.
2. One part test clay, one part Helmar kaolin. Back left in photo below.
3. One part test clay, two parts Helmar kaolin . Front right in photo below.
4. One part test, one part Helmar, 2/3 part silica, 2/3 part Custar feldspar. Front left in photo below.

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I poured each test out like a pancake on the wedging table with Silver watching and perhaps wondering if they were tasty cakes for cats. After a few hours, I was able to wedge the clay into four little balls. From these, I quickly whipped up eight pinch pots and marked the bottom of each piece with the number corresponding to the test clay. Each of the clays was pretty short and edges tended to break and separate.

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Sunday came like Christmas morning — a burning day — and I returned to the kiln great anticipation. Unfortunately, Saturday night was comparatively cool and the pieces had not dried — they were at the perfect leather hard trimming stage. I decided to fire them anyway. Besides, what better to fire wet pottery than a wet kiln?

I haven’t used the raku kiln in a long time and so when I pulled the tarp off the base bricks, they had all turned green with mold. Additionally, an entire colony of snails was living quite cozily in the moist damp undersides of the tarp. As an aside, I wonder if this has been the source of the large snail population this year. I find it disturbing to walk around in the grassy area behind the studio — it seems that every fourth or fifth step results in the sickening pop-crunch of a snail being smushed.

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After rescuing as many snails as I could find by putting them out in the tall grass areas in which I don’t walk, I set about loading the raku kiln. Because the pieces were substantially wet, I placed the shelf high above the burner port to reduce the risk of explosion. Then I candled the kiln at the lowest reliable flame, gradually increasing the temperature until the pieces appeared dry when I peered into the kiln. Once I got to that point, the fun began. I removed the regulator from the propane hose so I could a big jet of flame, and gradually began raising the temperature. Once I hit red heat, I let it roar. When that burner is tapping propane straight from the tank, it sounds like a jet engine.

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I knew I couldn’t get to cone 10 with the raku kiln, but during the firing I began to wonder how high I could go. I grabbed a spare unused pyrometer I had laying around and inserted the probe between the brick base and the fiber kiln body. Toward the end of the firing, I stoked a medium sized log into the kiln — chopped up into kindling of course — stoking two small sticks at a time. Eventually, I was able to get to 2200 F and held it there for a short time (given enough time, this would equate to about cone 5 when firing quickly). It was a hot day and the wood chopping, such as it was, made it seem hotter. I figured that was good enough for a test and called the firing.

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I was intending to open the kiln raku style right then, but I suddenly realized I was wearing shorts and had brought no pants, so I just closed up the kiln and decided to wait till it reached a temperature that wouldn’t blister my legs. Eventually, the temperature dropped and I was met with an amusing sight — a lovely puddle of glaze where the “pure” dug-up clay cup had been:

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Results:

#1: 100% dug-up clay. I love this glaze with the subtle variations of black and brown. A hot mud spring frozen while burbling — or a really flat cup (below):

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#2: 1:1 | dug-up:Helmar. This piece is slightly self-glazed (below):

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#3: 1:2 | dug-up:Helmar. This piece is quite dry (below):

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#4: 1:1:2/3:2/3 | dug-up:Helmar:silica:custar feldspar (below):

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#4 is rather interesting. It is self-glazing and incredibly porous — I know this because I broke it a little prying it off the shelf and the clay body is full of pinhead size holes (you can see the scar on the rim in the picture above). Perhaps it would make interesting insulating mugs. The porosity makes it feel extremely light though — so light that it feels “wrong” somehow.

Note: The iTunes link requires iTunes to be installed on your computer. If you do not have iTunes, use the “direct” link — it is probably most convenient to right click the link, choose “save as” from the context menu, and then listen to the file in your preferred player after it has downloaded.

UPDATE (Aug 23, 2007): Malcolm’s woodfired ceramic art is now available for sale in the Oten Gallery, detailed photogallery here.

Malcolm Greenwood entered adult life with a responsible education and the type of work any mother would wish for he son. After serving an apprenticeship as a fitter and machinist, completing a certificate course in Mechanical Engineering, and earning a degree in Business Administration from the University of Massachusetts in 1976, he was involved with and managed factories engaged in the manufacture of sanitary napkins, surgical instruments, robots, and fasteners. While this work took him to interesting places, including Nigeria, Africa, he never lost the interest in pottery he developed while studying with Mokoto Yabe after completing college (also see this Ceramics Monthly article about Mokoto Yabe, pdf).

In a life changing experience, Malcolm lost his real job and decided to turn his pottery hobby into a livelihood. The year was 1989 and he has been working hard at what he loves ever since. Gas fired glaze ware pays his bills and it is easy to see why it has found favor with chefs and food magazines throughout Australia. When you look at a teapot such the following, thrown off the hump, you are first struck with its lovely shape, and then impressed with the skill it took to throw something so wide without it collapsing:

View Malcolm’s photogallery album.

While his gas fired ware encompasses the majority of his business, Malcolm has been firing with wood for ages. He built a wood fired raku kiln in his college days, and a side-draft kiln while in Nigeria. When he returned to Australia, he participated in the construction and firing of both an anagama and a noborigama which sadly, do not survive to this day (their demise was due to a rent issue, not a technical failure). Malcolm presently woodfires at Sturt, and has achieved some great results:

View Malcolm’s photogallery album.

View Malcolm’s photogallery album.

What interested me most about talking with Malcolm, was the way in which he was able to switch gears and pursue the work he loves. It’s stories like his that encourage me to think that someday, I too could abandon my “day job” and survive as a potter. If you have similar dreams, sit back and listen to Malcolm’s wisdom — he is proof that it is possible.

Some tangents relating to African pottery:

• Article by Ron du Bois, of Oklahoma State University, discussing his experiences when creating a documentary about potters in Nigeria. Includes a number of pictures of the process and the results. Note that the pictures in the article are thumbnails for larger size shots and the article is two pages long — link to second page at the bottom.
• Professor Christopher Roy (University of Iowa) has an interesting site purporting to have video clips of various African pottery techniques. Based on other content from the site, these clips may be from Burkina Faso, a country a little to the NW of Nigeria. I haven’t been able to actually get the clips to download, but hopefully that is just a temporary issue.

Download the episode directly or through iTunes (mp3, 60:00, 55mb).

Note: The iTunes link requires iTunes to be installed on your computer. If you do not have iTunes, use the “direct” link — it is probably most convenient to right click the link, choose “save as” from the context menu, and then listen to the file in your preferred player after it has downloaded.

Update: Simon now has work available for sale in the Oten Gallery Shop.

Simon was consumed by wood fire pottery to such an extent, it overwhelmed his original aspirations for a legal career. Choosing instead to become an artist devoted to capturing the imprint of flame in his work, Simon has had remarkable success.

Photo gallery of Simon’s work.

Simon’s pottery is beautiful, and springs from his deep understanding of wood fired kilns and his thoughtful technique with clay. The years he has spent learning to build and fire wood kilns has clearly paid off in his work as can be seen in the photo gallery related to this podcast, and at his online shop. There is more to Simon however, then the pottery he produces. There is an intellect and understanding behind the work which takes his skill to strange and wonderful places.

Simon built a wood fired kiln in East Timor in order to enable local production of water filtration equipment. In essence, he turned his knowledge of wood fired ceramic art, and pointed it toward the production of potable water for an entire village. There is a social beauty in the fact that Simon’s understanding of wood firing has directly and fundamentally improved living conditions for many people.

In addition to the East Timor kiln, Simon has built anagamas at Mill Creek, Southern Illinois University (Edwardsville), Corning Community College (see the entry on Fred Herbst), and Syracuse University.

Simon has published a number of articles, many of which deal with developing a philosophy toward ceramic art. During the podcast, he discusses how philosophy and metaphor can be helpful in guiding one’s work, and suggests methods for sparking new ideas or refining old ones.

In truth, there was barely enough time in the allotted hour and some topics were necessarily left out. For example:

• Simon has an online store showcasing his ceramic art.
• Simon is hosting a wood fire workshop with Linda Christianson (additional info) in Kentucky from March 8-13, 2007.
• And of course, there is Adobe who provides kiln dog balance to the kiln’s cats here.

Note: The iTunes link requires iTunes to be installed on your computer. If you do not have iTunes, use the “direct “link — it is probably most convenient to right click the link, choose “save as” from the context menu, and then listen to the file in your preferred player after it has downloaded.

I wrapped up my eighth anagama firing in the early hours of Dec. 23rd. The kiln is still sealed and I am (im)patiently waiting for Saturday to open it up. During the firing, I made some recordings of what I was doing or thinking. The purpose was twofold: 1) In the future, I will be able to listen to all my wrong thoughts — perhaps with a sense of nostalgia. 2) I knew that post-firing, I would need some kind of project to help me keep my grubby mitts off the kiln door. So far, the editing task has worked quite well, although I also built a light tent in the meantime for taking better pictures of pottery.

Some basic data points: I lit the gas burner around 9:00 pm on Dec. 17, started with the wood about 24 hours later, stopped firing about 10:30 pm on Dec. 22, and had the kiln sealed up by 1:50 am on Dec. 23. The kiln consumed about 3.5 cords of wood during the firing. From 5:00 am, Dec. 18 through 2:00 am, Dec 23, I slept 18 out of 117 hours.

I took only a few pictures during the firing, but they can be viewed in the photo album for the eighth firing. As for the pieces — I hope to open the kiln on Saturday. Till then, I’ll spend the time worrying and second guessing.

Fred Herbst is a ceramics professor at Corning Community College in upstate New York. Interestingly, google satellite data for Corning is quite good although the kiln had not yet been built in this shot: aerial view of Fred’s anagama site. Check out Fred’s online gallery for a closer view.

Fred Herbst and daughter Emma.

During our discussion, we spoke about Fred’s anagama and one of the more unusual ways in which an anagama may be used: as a furnace for glass blowing. We then move into his experiences with reduction cooling experiments and how this technique benefits iron rich stonewares, but how a more oxidizing atmosphere tends to favor porcelain and white stoneware.

In the photo gallery accompanying this podcast, you will find pictures of Fred’s kiln, its construction, firing, and examples of the finished work. Fred has also graciously provided a set of clay and glaze recipes. Pay particular note to Fred’s Porcelaineous which fires beautifully — much like a Shigaraki clay.

If you wish to fire with Fred, you’re in luck. He is hosting a summer workshop, July 10-16, 2007, with Jody Johnstone. The cost is $200 and if you are interested, contact Fred (email below). If you can’t make the firing but find you are interested in having a piece fired in Fred’s anagama, contact him directly: herbstNO@JUNKcorning-cc.edu (remove “NO” and “JUNK” for correct email).

Last, some links related to topics brought up in our discussion:

• Dick Lehman’s article: A New Approach to Long-fire Results.
• Fred’s kiln was designed by Simon Levin.
• Some history about Roman Glass, the type of glass that was recreated in the anagama glass blowing experiment.

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While outside, the wind blows, tarps flap, and the shed rattles, inside is warm and cozy. The kiln cats are especially fond of the stove although after snapping this shot, I moved Stripe back from the fire a bit. Cats are flammable after all, and they are worringly inclined to snuggle right up to the glowing ceramic briquette (this shot is actually from yesterday but it snowed yesterday as well):

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A word about the heater. I used to have a “Dyna Glo” heater which looked very similar to this one. Apparently however, it was designed to accept fuel only from the small disposable bottles. After 1.5 seasons of use connected to a 20 pound propane tank, it quit working altogether.

My new stove is a “Mr. Heater” and it’s designed to use propane from a bulk tank. As with any Mr. Heater device though, it’s rather noisy — it hisses quite a bit on the “high” setting, but tolerably so. On the “low” setting however, it makes such a painful high pitched whistle that I’ve decided the stove is either on “high” or “off” — “low” is unusable. Nothing is perfect: the Dyna Glo is quieter but only works with disposable bottles. The Mr. Heater is noisy but works with bulk tanks. Now, if someone would just build a quiet heater that could be connected to a 20# tank, I’d pay double!

And on the topic of fuel sources and payment — here is a shot from inside the studio looking out on the last few bits of the woodpile before I chopped it up. The payment? My wrists and fingers hurt after excessive bouts of repetitive stress, e.g., chopping wood. I think the picture is pretty though:

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Image courtesy of Arthur Rosser.

Steve Harrison is a potter from Australia with decades of woodfire experience under his belt, plus an obvious love and ability for the geological sciences as applied to ceramics. To understand the breadth of his experience, take a peek at his CV, or consider that he is currently firing work in a kiln he built himself out of bricks that he made from local materials; the pottery fired in the kiln is made of clay he collects locally, glazed with materials he collects locally, and fired with wood grown locally.

photo gallery of Steve Harrison’s work, bricks, and kilns. Photo courtesy Michael Bradfield.

His work is shown (and available for sale) at the Legge Gallery in Sydney Australia. During the course of the podcast, Steve discusses his current show “Dirty Little Secrets” and how he developed the clay body used to create these examples of black-bodied ware (as well the white porcelain work represented in a prior show “From the Ground Up“). His recent work is influenced by the way “perfection” has been devalued by modern manufacturing techniques. You can read more in an article he wrote entitled: Perfect Is the New Junk (pdf, © Steve Harrison, used here with permission).

Steve’s kiln building/rock glaze books are available directly from him. Additional photos of his studio, kilns, and work can be seen on his Sidestoke page. Lastly after talking with Steve, I had much to google. Here are some of the more interesting things I picked up:

• Steve has an article in Ceramic Review, Issue #222, entitled: From the Ground Up.
• Porcelain Spy: Père d’Entrecolles. Read translations of his actual letters or a summary written by the NBH (Hungarian Spies) entitled: Pioneers of Industrial Espionage. (as an aside, the entire NBH site is rather interesting, even if a bit chilling).
• Porcelain requires Baitunze (also spelled petuntse, petunse, baidunzi, and likely more).
• Picture of “treacherous” bauxite pebbles (scroll down for a picture of a hand full of them).

I think you will find that Steve’s interview, aside from being interesting and entertaining (Steve has a great sense of humor), will foment a storm of ideas. Enjoy.