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Firing Log

ancient kiln | 21st century logbook

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November 6, 2009

Building and Firing a Steve Harrison Throat Kiln (Overview)

Filed under: Firing, Kiln, Pieces, non-anagama, non-anagama, sound & video — odin @ 9:44 am

For a while now, I have been thinking about building a smaller wood fired kiln — one which I could fire alone in a short time.  I love firing the anagama, but it requires a large amount of preparation and a large block of time to fire.  It isn’t the sort of kiln where I can think “Hmmm … I feel like firing this weekend”, and then just go for it.  Preparing to fire the anagama is huge undertaking, and I’m not only talking about wood or pottery.  There is a huge list of little things that must be done as a firing approaches and a person can really run ragged trying to do everything.

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 throat kiln with propane preheating with propane (larger image)

firebox and kiln body firebox and kiln body (larger image)

glowing kiln glowing kiln (larger image)

firemouth firemouth (larger image)

chimney 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 cones 9, 10 & 11 (larger image)

fire blushed bowl fire blushed bowl (larger image)

thin liner glaze thin liner glaze (larger image)

light ash glaze on front light ash glaze on front (larger image)

coals make haikaburi coals make haikaburi (larger image)

back underfired back underfired (larger image)

July 16, 2007

How Does It Burn?

Filed under: Clay Bodies, Firing, Kiln, Kiln Cats, non-anagama, non-anagama — odin @ 7:47 pm

One of the ultimate joys of pottery is burning things. So when a friend of mine gave me a lump of clay that he dug up while in the process of building a foundation, I grew quite excited. Finally, I had an excuse to drag out the raku kiln, flare off some propane, and singe my eyebrows a bit.

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.

raw clump of dug up clay Full Size Image

clay sausage ready for pounding Full Size Image

powdered clay sieved from the larger bits Full Size Image

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.

clay frosting Full Size Image

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.

silver ponders the slip Full Size Image

four lumps of prepared test clay Full Size Image

pinch pots made from test clay Full Size Image

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.

snail on kiln base Full Size Image

one of the many snails inhabiting the studio back yard -- this one got saved Full Size Image

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.

moldy bricks ... Washington is not called The Evergreen State for nothing Full Size Image

kiln just before firing it up Full Size Image

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.

I got the kiln to just a hair over 2000 F / 1200 C Full Size Image

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:

three cups and the blob of dug-up clay Full Size Image

it is a pretty blob though Full Size Image

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):

giant oil spot glaze from dug-up clay Full Size Image

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

dug-up clay and Helmar 1:1 Full Size Image

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

dug-up clay and Helmar 1:2 Full Size Image

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

self-glazing clay incorporating dug-up clay Full Size Image

#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.

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