February 2012 Archives

seeing the unseen

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glazing-slab-plates.jpgI am glazing pots for the gas kiln. I told a friend I would send some process images. So as the day progressed I snapped some pix. I clicked the shutter and was reminded that one of the skills a potter has is to see into the future. Beginning with a wet mud-like substance, I understand the nature of drying and shrinkage. I can look at the pink of bisque and imagine what the stoneware clay will look like under a high fired celadon glaze. I look at current experiments with incremental additions of iron in the slip and imagine subtle shifts in the creaminess once fired. As I look through my lens with the eye of a non-potter I wondered how they see the transformation and information that a potter takes for granted.

glazing-foot-plates.jpgI look at the plates and visualize impending transformations. These plates will make up sets that are a family of close siblings. I work intuitively taking photos and notes as I focus upon the next group of experiments, stretching my capacity to see the unseen. My dual-edged imagination remembers the raw colors and layers I originally fell in love with and lives for the excitement of fire induced transformations into durable, aesthetically usable poem.


As a potter I confront the conflation of art and science on a daily level. On the wheel I balance centrifugal force, gravity and the plasticity of clay. When I mix clay I consider particle sizes, geologic history, the location of origin and how the material acts in the wet state tensioned with how it appears once fired. In the kiln I collaborate with heat and fire, concerned with oxygen levels during combustion and cooling.

Potters continually mine their understanding of how materials shrink and melt, heat and cool and finally inhabit the kitchen and the table, our hands and our spirits. I find it particularly exciting to bring my material understanding down to its most elemental level by collecting materials that have not been processed for industrial use. These often contain impurities and variation. It allows me to feel not only like an artist and collaborator, but also like part mad scientist. I understand the rules of science and craftsmanship but break them in the same breath.

lederman-plate600.jpgTuesday I attended a panel discussion at Georgetown University about art and science marking the opening of Where the Seafloor Melts with work by the ceramic artist Joan Lederman from Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Joan uses ocean floor sediments that are by-products of oceanographic research. Using these materials she creates artifacts or markers. She approaches science as an outsider and passionate amateur, beguiling us as a storyteller. She comes to her objects as a crafts-person.

ooze.jpgJoan discussed the coincidence of material coming to her door due to the generosity of a coastguard seaman and her proximity to the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution, which has led to some unusual collaboration. The various forms of mud and ooze flowing across her doorstep have given her a material understanding on a molecular level and a global level due to  mapping the origin-locations of her mud. She has had to wrap her imagination around geological history in a daily development of mind and memory. She perseveres in her studio experiments, working with the serendipity of what scientists contribute as well as an acceptance of what the kiln permits as she builds upon trial and error. Embedded in her objects is material knowledge and an artistic endeavor to document location, constructing a confluence of form, surface and variety.

lederman-plates-2.jpgIt is when Joan steps outside the usual constructs of pottery craftsmanship, crossing the conventional line with materials that almost melt, that crawl or  halo, overall creating poetic variations in surface texture, that they are the most interesting to my eye. Her documentation of heat work and place of origin show the work at its best. The fact that the melted materials are placed on a bowl or a cup or a vase seems almost incidental. There is room for more concept and collaboration of form and surface with the clay. The science has had so much to say there remains more untapped potential for the artistic side to come up to the podium and speak.

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