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.

In her Artist’s Statement, Davie explains how the farmland of Kentucky is imbued with a female character — it is a softly curving, undulating environment that has influenced her ceramic forms. When looking at the forms she creates though, it is clear that a term such as “womanly” does not infer only a life of ease. Quite the contrary, Davie’s youthful experiences with farm labor and her life as a wood-firing potter have instilled in her a respect for hard work, something which shows through in the pieces she creates.

Davie Reneau’s Photogallery.

For example, this teapot’s full and curvaceous form is accented with patterns evoking patchwork fields at sunset, the evening colors imparted by wood-flames. It is without doubt, a comforting shape bringing to mind pastoral images of farm life — perhaps resting in a comfortable chair as evening hues fire the sky. I think though, that there is more to it and that nostalgia is but half the picture. The subtle part, that the end of the day comes with worn out muscles and tired bones, is still there to be sensed. This teapot is soft on casual inspection, but underneath is to be discovered a fundamental strength supporting the comfortable surface.

In her other works, Davie finds ways to evoke a sense of generosity with a subcurrent of a harder existence, complete with the cuts, scrapes, bruises and burns familiar only to those who really know what work means. She doesn’t club one over the head though — her efforts appear effortless, leaving just a trace left for those who will look deeper. Davie revels in hard work, and I doubt she would have it any other way. Difficult as it may be to toil under the hot sun or in front of a blazing firemouth, when the job is done there is a sense of accomplishment that cannot otherwise be obtained, and evening is all the more comfortable for the hardships of the day.

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

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.

Here is a time lapse video showing roughly 90 minutes of stoking in two:
Nice quality, 65 mb, quicktime format.
Dreadful quality, 9.5 mb, quicktime format.

And of course, a photogallery of some of the work from the ninth anagama firing.

Now for the work:

My goodness, it’s been a long time since I posted. I finished up a firing at the end of March and then completely lost my motivation. I must have stoked the last of my energy into the kiln and honestly, I’m still waiting for it to come back — I’m burnt out. Even sitting down to write this entry is painful and I’ve been procrastinating for a month (!) despite the successful character of the last firing. I lament my lost motivation.

{… OK, let’s just do this …}

Overall, the ninth firing truly was good. I’m not 100% happy with the coloring or surface texture, but I’m satisfied for the most part. I received some nice pieces, had no shelf collapses, and internalized an important lesson. The firing can be summed up in three basic topics:

• I finally know exactly how to make the temperature climb like a rocket.
• However, I need to modify air inlet size, wood mixture, or both for brighter colors and
• I need to work on my closing procedures.

Stoking One Stick:

Furutani wrote that sometimes during a firing, the temperature of the kiln can be perfectly adjusted with a single piece of firewood. Even though I’ve read that line a dozen or more times, it was only in the last firing that I actually put it into practice. The effect was astounding and the technique eminently simple: stoke one piece of firewood, watch the chimney till the glow at its tip died, repeat.

The stoking cycle was about one smallish piece every two minutes. I don’t know what temperature I hit, but the light from the kiln was blinding. It was blinding even with sunglasses behind welding goggles. It was like staring at the sun; a sort of fear inducing “holy cow — my bricks are gonna melt” kind of hot. Hot enough that I could imagine the devil requesting my consulting services when things get cool down south.

In retrospect, it makes perfect sense — firing the kiln is an exercise in finding the perfect fuel/air mixture. Anyone who has read anything about combustive firings (no matter what the fuel is) has heard that it is hard to raise the temperature in a reduction environment. I know I’ve read that all over the place — Furtani, Olsen, and from probably a half dozen other writers. Sometimes though, reading is not the same as knowing. After directly observing the effect of hitting the fuel/air sweetspot, I finally “know” this fact viscerally. I won’t forget.

Brightening colors:

As for the color of the glaze, it is less bright than the seventh firing’s results — there was less orange and more brown in this last firing. Early in the firing, I held the kiln in a reduction environment to build up a carbon layer on the pots. While it gave me some interesting glaze lines, and effects, I think I prefer a cleaner brighter look.

The carbon effect shows up In this example:

View Photogallery

This piece appears to have collected carbon soot. When the glaze layer formed and liquified, it caused the soot to streak. Once the glaze built to a certain level, it seems to have flowed separately from the carbon layer, particularly on the neck. This effect works well with my notions of fire as water. It’s as if a winter rain partially cleaned a soot coated object before freezing into a glaze of ice.

While I think I might like this effect, it doesn’t change the fact that many of the pieces were mud-toned. By the same token, it usually takes me about 6 months or so to really evaluate whether I like something … except for those truly awful pieces which are almost immediately subjected to hammer justice.

Aside from carbon, another possible factor in the muddy colors was my fuel composition. In firings seven and eight, I used mostly softwood for fuel. In the last firing, I used a 50/50 mix of hard and soft woods. I think I’ll try bumping up the ratio to 25/75, hard/soft because it may be that the type of fuel has a stong effect on the reds.

As for why this difference may exist, I have no answer — only some guesses. It may simply be that hardwood is denser and thus one armload of alder and birch is the same as throwing in 1.3 armloads of fir. In that case, it would be a simple matter of too much carbon causing the darkening. Or it could be that the there is a different chemical reaction from soft wood flame than that from hard wood. I suppose a better test would be to continue with a 50/50 blend but stoke less when stoking hard woods. My gut is telling me to change the wood though … yet my gut is often wrong.

Closing Procedures:

One easily corrected mistake I made was in cooling the kiln. This mistake caused me much anguish for the week I waited for the kiln to cool. The answer is to use an alarm clock. Here’s the issue:
I like to have a glaze that is semi-matte with glossy areas. I am not so attracted to extremely dry glaze. A surefire way to build gloss is to quick cool the kiln. In the seventh firing, I quickly cooled for about 90 minutes. In the eighth, about one hour.

In the ninth firing, I decided to go for a full two hour quick cooling period. Around 1:00 am, I capped the chimney, closed off the lower air inlets, but left the stoking door wide open. I then struggled to stay awake for two hours at which time I closed the stoke door but did not immediately seal the kiln with clay slip. What I wanted to do was cool for another hour at a moderate pace to let the coal bed reduce itself, yet not drop the temperature so much that it was impossible for a certain amount of matte glaze would to form (matte glaze forms when crystals grow in the glass — a process requiring time).

To repeat, my plan was to wait one more hour, and then completely seal the kiln.

Six hours later I woke up in a panic!

As a result of the excessively quick cooling, the pottery is excessively glossy and there is very little matte glaze at all. This drastic cooling may also have played a role in the lack of any of the brighter orange tones. There is absolutely no orange on any piece I pull out during the firing, rather, those pieces that cool from kiln to ambient temperature in a 30 minute period are very glossy, but completely lack red or brown tones.

Anyway, for not using an alarm clock, I swore at myself for days.

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.

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.

So without further ado, although you may wish to view the photos of Mike, his kiln, and his pottery below, here is the first (rough around the edges) podcast:

Direct link to file: Kiln Chat — Michael R. Morris (mp3, 36:24, 26mb). Alternatively, you may use this iTunes link to the same file.
Notes:
Michael R. Morris was kind enough to play guinea pig while I figured out how to actually record a podcast, patient while I fumbled about and muttered expletives at my equipment, and a good sport when I informed him that a particularly interesting discussion hadn’t been recorded. Of greater note, although Mike has a Masters in Photography, he has been seriously and irreversibly infected with the pottery bug to such an extent, he built his own anagama in Nescopeck, E. Central Pennsylvania. His work was very recently accepted for display and sale at the Langman Gallery in Willowgrove PA.

Mike is planning to fire again in April of 2007, but he is a bit short handed at present. If you would like to contact him, his email is drippy22ash22pots@yahoo.com (the address is obfuscated to cut back on spam — remove all the numerals “2″ and you’ll have his correct address). This map should help you figure out if you are in his neighborhood. The last thing to note however, is that his computer was recently killed by lightning so it may take him a few days to respond to you.

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