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

If you haven’t already, listen to Malcolm’s interview, look at the photogallery of his art and studio, and of course, check out the pieces for sale in the Oten Gallery. In the meantime, a treat for the eye:

photogallery

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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.

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.

As for the “Oten Gallery”, my plan is simple and I wonder why I had not thought of it earlier. After doing a couple podcasts it suddenly occurred to me that it would be nice to run an online gallery. I would get to handle many pots made by many potters, and potters who might find it difficult to trade their wood fired wares could have an outlet which reaches a broader audience (presuming of course it works out in the long run).

Setting up shop has been a real learning experience. Some fun and some not so much.  Figuring out new software packages was hard and often frustrating.  Learning how to use a light tent to take pictures of the pieces I received has been much more fun. In any event, the dreary part is over and I’m looking forward to the chance to see many fine pieces of wood fired pottery in the future.

I opened the anagama on Friday night (Dec. 29, 2006) after a cooling period a few hours shy of seven days. I had planned to wait until Saturday morning, but with visions of shizenyu dancing in my head, anticipation got the best of me and I unbricked the door about 15 hours early.

It was a difficult night however, and much unlike the seventh firing in which I pulled out many lovely pieces. Once I peeked into the kiln, my initial anticipation and excitement immediately gave way to despair and dismay, although several small finds allowed my spirits to rebound to some degree.

That which was right:

One idea that worked out wonderfully was “shielding”. By “shielding”, I mean setting up a wall of clay very near to a piece. In this way, the shield would absorb the ash and flame that would otherwise strike the front and melt into glaze. By making the shield incompletely cover the front, I hoped to have shizenyu mixed with hi iro (”fire color”). As this example shows, the result is wonderful:

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Sadly, I’m not that skilled with slabs so this vase separated at the seams. Still, with a little practice slab building, this technique could result in stunning pieces.

Here is a picture with the shield up — two notes: 1) I broke the shield trying to knock off a piece of stuck wadding, and 2) it was placed much closer to the piece during the actual firing than is shown in this picture:

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Another winner was this coil built bottle. I made an ad hoc shield out of wadding while loading. The shield wasn’t as close as the one on the brick shaped vase, and it only shielded the foot area, but it helped to some degree:

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One last pottery picture for the blog (see the photo album for more pictures) — the tube of this bottle was slab built and the base and cap thrown. It was plainly caught in a complicated eddy in the fire path:

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That which was wrong:

I’m very happy I recorded my firing. My general sleepiness makes memory of any firing rather fuzzy. This time however, I can hear myself making lousy decisions. The most embarrassing is probably my “olivine segment”.

Beware the midnight inspiration.

In a misplaced attempt to enhance green colors in the glaze, I induced a reduction environment toward the end of the firing. Lost in a haze of sleepy logic, I suddenly had the idea that olivine and reduction are related. I did no research, no real thinking — I just ran with the conclusion. Indeed, the wikipedia entry for olivine suggests that the green in olivine is not from reduced iron at all: “Olivine is usually named for its typically olive-green color (thought to be a result of traces of nickel), though it may alter to a reddish color from the oxidation of iron.”

Certainly a “red olivine” from oxidized iron, while not green of course, would be quite nice to have on the hi iro pieces. Besides, the glaze never has difficulty turning olive green wherever it is thick or puddles. Take my mistake as a warning, midnight inspirations should be examined in the light of day — do not simply “decide and do”.

Reduction is overrated … (probably).

It seems everyone talks about reduction but I’m seriously beginning to think that reduction is overrated. What did I get after making certain I wastefully pumped a metric ton of carbon through the kiln and out the chimney? A generous amount of muddy glaze with black halos in the transition areas (by “transition areas”, I mean the areas between the exposed-side and the protected-side).

I’ve tried firings that are more on the reduction side and firings that are more on the oxidation side of things. Not all the oxidation firings have been a success, but all the reduction firings have been either mostly or purely atrocious. Look at this picture from the third firing:

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After the pottery from the third firing was hammered down into small chunks, it made a decent aggregate when mixed with cement, but there are cheaper and easier ways to get gravel. There was absolutely nothing good about the third firing. In fact, my firings only began to improve once I began letting the kiln breathe.

Although not as disgusting as the third firing, the initial view from this firing brought flashbacks of horrid memories. My initial despair should be quite understandable:

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So in the end, while every talks about reduction environments, I think reduction does not fit with my preferences. I’m not saying it’s the wrong thing to do — just that I never like the results.

Lose the cones again.

Another thing I must do, is misplace the cones again. I think they lulled me into a false sense of completion. The cone packs I could see said the kiln was finished — cone 11 was laid flat. In the very back however, cone 10 never budged. The sight of a puddling cone 11 toward the middle-front of the kiln affected my judgment, even if subconsciously.

Plan for the ninth firing:

Quick cooling.

It sounds so counterintuitive — after spending days stoking the kiln to ever higher temperatures, does it really make sense to open up all the ports (air inlets and stoke hole), and allow cold outside air to flow freely through the kiln? The proof is in the finished product however. No firing was better (glaze-wise) than the sixth. At the end of the sixth firing, I left the kiln wide open for almost two hours. Had the shelves stood — it would have been amazing.

Although it is psychologically difficult to walk away and let the kiln breathe massive quantities of cold air, I will build up my resilience to this backwards-seeming idea. The ninth firing will feature a quick cooling period of at least one hour — longer if I can stand it.

Firewood.

Finally, I think I need to start using more alder again. In the last two firings, I have used fir almost exclusively. Fir is light and fast burning but its heat seems to have difficulty reaching the back of the kiln. Alder burns quickly like a softwood, but it is slightly denser and tends to hold temperature a little better. Secondly, because alder is denser, it has more “stuff” in it on a log-for-log basis compared to fir. In other words, one cord of alder should deposit more glaze making ash than one cord of fir. Between these two advantages, I’ll try to make my next firing based on alder, though trimmed with fir perhaps.

For now though, it’s time to begin preparing pieces for the next firing. After my initial shock, I’m now ready to move forward and eager to avoid the mistakes of the eighth firing. I especially want to experiment with slabs and methods of directing the flow of ash and flame.

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.