From the kiln - the glazed slabs in their, um, glory - they are experiments to try out "ways forward" - using wax resist with a touch of yellow underglaze colour in it; painting with dark glaze; embossing (stamping), bisque firing and then filling in with black slip, sponging off the excess, adding a clear glaze - must try filling in unfired clay with slip, and shaving off the messy top. My favourite effect is the flower-print on the three square slabs - when the slip dried, the slab was cut into four and the pieces were rolled out to different sizes to expand the print -Last week's glazing emerges - views from "outside" -
and "inside" -
and there's also an "in between" - imagine these are resting on a sheet of glass and you're seeing what might be lurking in the basement, or under the floorboards -
The scars on this one are brass tacks under a clear glaze, taken straight from clay to stoneware -
Here the red "dust" has fallen off the window ledge onto the floor - footprints of an intruder?
A view of the hive of activity - some heads and faces are being painted, and some cast body shapes are being prepared for having video projected into them -I threw out some of the pieces that were totally pointless busywork. Trying to get my work into just one tray.
Storytelling with pinchpots? -
The ones at the back are stoneware, as is the dark red in the middle of the front - that's what happens to the terracotta clay (yum).
These "facades" will be fired over the break - I'm trying to focus, in subsequent work, on doorways and thresholds ... but the theme of safety and danger calls to me strongly - maybe they are part of the same thing?
as for example in this little room under the stairs -
Some reflections on making work in ceramics class: After the excitement of picking up the newly fired work, I seem to go into a doldrum of "what next", even when I've written ideas and a workplan in the notebook to prepare for this. This week it was afternoon before I actually got to the clay. A little observation started off the stair-room, namely the way the crank split for the cut bit of the stair - first a smooth cut, then all bumpy when the clay was pulled apart further (which echoes the way the pins make bumpy textures). Like something is trying to get out from underneath the stair. Once I identified that, the piece started coming together, over about an hour, and seemingly without conscious thought. There was quite a bit of "here's the slab, not quite wide enough - should I roll it out more or patch it somewhere or add something somehow" - hence the squished-out edges on the left. Some elements aren't the result of planning, eg the height of the staircase - they used the amount of clay that was on hand at the time.
Using what's on hand also includes using a limited range of stamps, looking for possible ways of using more of those pins, and keeping an eye open for other things that could make useful textures, such as the ring binding of my notebook. I'd categorise myself as an improviser, rather than a good planner. Was it Jane Dunnewold who said in a workshop: "Act like an artist - do something, and then react to that" - I think that's it in a nutshell (the nutshell being your intention/theme).
So the stair piece took just over an hour, and the two doorway pieces maybe another hour, till the end of class (which is five hours not including lunch) - I was just getting into my stride and could have continued for much longer. Diagnosis: slow starter, but gets there in the end?
Margaret, what are you going to do with all these cool little pottery shards you've been creating? They're simply wonderful, I love them all. I think they'd all be great together in some kind of installation. They're definitely archeological.
ReplyDeleteI love these too, and like Connie, I think they seem very archeological.
ReplyDeleteI've just found you again when I was looking at an old post of mine where you'd commented. Now I have you in my reader and will be exploring! Having visited London and the UK last spring, I'm really enjoying your London photos!