The website rebuilding resumes. I am re-taking photos so that they will all be properly sized for the site. Meanwhile, Web-a-Deb builds the site again from scratch, using Wordpress this time.
Reno Inna House, Studio Has Mouse; and Seder Plates
Forsythia and daffodils are blooming yellow, and here are those blue starry flowers whose name I don’t know, too. Spring arrived before Passover, which is great, because all the prep work is lightened (I almost said leavened) by the growing awareness of leaves and blossoms around me renewing themselves with young energy.
Remember I asked What is It? It is a Seder plate, of course. I ended up not making the little bowls that go with it- yet. After Passover (ironically) I will have time to do that. Meanwhile, a few of these Seder plates are drying in the studio this week. Too late for this year’s Passover, they are good items to have on hand all year for the random customer looking for “something else.”
Considering that I am still evolving a Seder plate design (it’s YEARS in the evolution!), the shank bone, parsley, egg, lettuce leaf and horseradish root look okay, but that bowl of charoset…not.
I kind of like the double rim. I am reserving overall judgment on these plates till they have been glaze-fired.
All but Passover prep and kitchen renovation are put aside for now.
As for the process known as kitchen ‘reno’, first comes the ‘demo’ of everything but the cabinets, then installation of the ‘lino’. Counters and appliances (that get no abbreviation- except the ‘fridge’) are in, and eventually we will get the friendly old farmhouse wallpaper (with its stripes of red, yellow and blue fruit) removed, and paint applied.
This has consumed lots of mental energy. If not for the occasional walk in the great outdoors, I might’ve missed the daffodils in the back yard, which I culled and planted years ago from my friend Thea’s daylily bed. Thea is gone, but the daffs keep opening their bright sturdy ruffles every April, reminding me as always of Thea’s feistiness.
There were signs of a mouse- named, in the absence of a vote, Melvis- in the studio, but luckily for the little rodent, now it seems that Melvis has left the building. With the renovation going on, and doors open, it must have scampered right in, how-do-ya-do, and its one foray into the food pantry (“ooh, Swiss Fudge cookie! Squeak squeak happy happy!”) got me calling the exterminator in a blink. No house friendship with mice, no matter how cute they are in the woods. If they have been reading kids’ books and getting ideas- “Come inside, Mr. Bird,” said a mouse. “I’ll show you what there is in a people house,”- they’d best forget ‘em.
Eleven days to the first Passover Seder. Digging out from under the (not quite complete) reno. Buying groceries, planning the menu, cleaning everywhere, hoping to have a kitchen to cook in soon.
Remember I asked What is It? It is a Seder plate, of course. I ended up not making the little bowls that go with it- yet. After Passover (ironically) I will have time to do that. Meanwhile, a few of these Seder plates are drying in the studio this week. Too late for this year’s Passover, they are good items to have on hand all year for the random customer looking for “something else.”
Considering that I am still evolving a Seder plate design (it’s YEARS in the evolution!), the shank bone, parsley, egg, lettuce leaf and horseradish root look okay, but that bowl of charoset…not.
I kind of like the double rim. I am reserving overall judgment on these plates till they have been glaze-fired.
All but Passover prep and kitchen renovation are put aside for now.
As for the process known as kitchen ‘reno’, first comes the ‘demo’ of everything but the cabinets, then installation of the ‘lino’. Counters and appliances (that get no abbreviation- except the ‘fridge’) are in, and eventually we will get the friendly old farmhouse wallpaper (with its stripes of red, yellow and blue fruit) removed, and paint applied.
This has consumed lots of mental energy. If not for the occasional walk in the great outdoors, I might’ve missed the daffodils in the back yard, which I culled and planted years ago from my friend Thea’s daylily bed. Thea is gone, but the daffs keep opening their bright sturdy ruffles every April, reminding me as always of Thea’s feistiness.
There were signs of a mouse- named, in the absence of a vote, Melvis- in the studio, but luckily for the little rodent, now it seems that Melvis has left the building. With the renovation going on, and doors open, it must have scampered right in, how-do-ya-do, and its one foray into the food pantry (“ooh, Swiss Fudge cookie! Squeak squeak happy happy!”) got me calling the exterminator in a blink. No house friendship with mice, no matter how cute they are in the woods. If they have been reading kids’ books and getting ideas- “Come inside, Mr. Bird,” said a mouse. “I’ll show you what there is in a people house,”- they’d best forget ‘em.
Eleven days to the first Passover Seder. Digging out from under the (not quite complete) reno. Buying groceries, planning the menu, cleaning everywhere, hoping to have a kitchen to cook in soon.
It's 10 PM. Do You Know Where our Winner Is?
Winner of the drawing for two mugs is none other than.....Drum roll.....
Naomiliba!
Naomiliba, the mugs will be winging their way to you tomorrow. Congratulations! Hope you enjoy them!
All of you who subscribed, thank you so very much for reading and for feedback.
There will be another drawing for some other neat thing down the line. All blog followers will be eligible.
And in other news- Stay tuned for the arrival of my new, redone, overhauled, functional, tuches-kickin' pottery website! It is evolving even as I write this, and will be emerging from quarantine all healed and robust in only a few more weeks.
Naomiliba!
Naomiliba, the mugs will be winging their way to you tomorrow. Congratulations! Hope you enjoy them!
All of you who subscribed, thank you so very much for reading and for feedback.
There will be another drawing for some other neat thing down the line. All blog followers will be eligible.
And in other news- Stay tuned for the arrival of my new, redone, overhauled, functional, tuches-kickin' pottery website! It is evolving even as I write this, and will be emerging from quarantine all healed and robust in only a few more weeks.
What is it?
Before you answer this riddle, here's a reminder: If you haven't signed up to follow or subscribe to my blog, now's a good time. You will be instantly entered into the drawing for 2 very nice and completely free mugs. Thursday, March 31st, is your last day to get into the drawing! I delve into the lottery hat Friday morning.
Now for the "What is it?" or, better yet, "What will it be?" photo:
Hint: It's about halfway there.
Now for the "What is it?" or, better yet, "What will it be?" photo:
Skipper and Scooter Get Markers
Sitting on the back deck one sunny hour earlier this week, my husband and I realized our neighbor and friend, M., was digging in her flowerbed nearby.
“Planting?” I asked her. M. planting is a sure sign of spring.
“No- I’m burying my bird,” she told us.
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
“He died a few months ago,” she said. The little bird had been in the garage freezer till the snow melted and the ground was soft enough to dig. She pointed out where her other bird had been buried a few years ago. There was a brick over that spot. M. was thinking of putting a brick over this one, too.
M. is creative in both her personal and professional life. I suggested she make a grave marker for each of the birds in my studio. Last evening, she came by and did so. It didn’t take very long, maybe forty minutes from start through cleanup.
She was able to roll out a 1/2” thick piece of clay quick as can be, using my slab roller. M. cut them into shape and cleaned up the edges. She put to use bird and flower stamps, and other stamps I have made over the years from clay and plaster.
Skipper and Scooter, remembered!
“Planting?” I asked her. M. planting is a sure sign of spring.
“No- I’m burying my bird,” she told us.
“Oh! I’m sorry!”
“He died a few months ago,” she said. The little bird had been in the garage freezer till the snow melted and the ground was soft enough to dig. She pointed out where her other bird had been buried a few years ago. There was a brick over that spot. M. was thinking of putting a brick over this one, too.
M. is creative in both her personal and professional life. I suggested she make a grave marker for each of the birds in my studio. Last evening, she came by and did so. It didn’t take very long, maybe forty minutes from start through cleanup.
She was able to roll out a 1/2” thick piece of clay quick as can be, using my slab roller. M. cut them into shape and cleaned up the edges. She put to use bird and flower stamps, and other stamps I have made over the years from clay and plaster.
My Interview at Damomma
Boy, was this ever a busy period at the computer. Not at the potter's wheel, at the computer. Most interesting, nonetheless. Damomma.com interviewed me, in my role as an artist with a spiritual side. This terrific blog, subtitled "Motherhood is not for Wimps" does interviews and runs contests and delivers a dose of humor and common sense on a fairly regular basis.
I made the e-mail acquaintance of blogger Elizabeth Soutter through our mutual friend Shana, (Thanks, Shana!) who suggested to Liz that I was a possible candidate for a short series of interviews for Damomma. The results were- well, you can read 'em for yourself and see. The upshot for me was that following the post "going live," I had the pleasure of looking at and replying to comments it engendered.
It was meditative and thoroughly enjoyable.
Here's a photo my friend Maddy took, which is in Liz's interview with me.
Just a reminder: The free mugs drawing ends March 31st, so if you don't see yourself in the "followers" boxes, remember to sign up quick so you can have a chance.
I made the e-mail acquaintance of blogger Elizabeth Soutter through our mutual friend Shana, (Thanks, Shana!) who suggested to Liz that I was a possible candidate for a short series of interviews for Damomma. The results were- well, you can read 'em for yourself and see. The upshot for me was that following the post "going live," I had the pleasure of looking at and replying to comments it engendered.
It was meditative and thoroughly enjoyable.
Here's a photo my friend Maddy took, which is in Liz's interview with me.
Just a reminder: The free mugs drawing ends March 31st, so if you don't see yourself in the "followers" boxes, remember to sign up quick so you can have a chance.
Did You Appear in the Followers Boxes?
If it works, the best way to Follow is to go to the dark blue bar at the top of the page and click Follow. Then I'll be able to see that you're subscribed, and will know you're in the drawing for the free mugs. Otherwise I can't see you there, and can't enter you in the drawing. If the link doesn't work for you, will you let me know? I'm not sure it works with every browser.
*Win a Free Pair of Blue Mugs*
I feel the time has come for another mug giveaway.
You must be a subscriber to be eligible for the drawing.
These are the two lovelies being given, basking on the porch in the first cloudy, faint glimmers of Spring:
You must be in the U.S. to be eligible. Otherwise there are no rules. Oh, it would help if you were attracted by handmade mugs, so light to hold, so happy to make your acquaintance. Because these are that oxymoron, cheerfully blue mugs, just for you.
How do you subscribe? Option One: Allllll the way down to the very bottommost bottom of this page, there is a link that reads Subscribe Now. Click it. Choose from the options how you want to subscribe- do you want notice of new posts to come to your Yahoo? Your Google page? Or-? Then just follow directions. Easy shmeezy. Option Two: In the URL box at the top of this window, you will see a blue (mac) or orange (PC) squarish shape with some curved white lines in it. Hover your mouse over it. It will say Subscribe to This Page. Go for it, same as in Option One. Still easy shmeezy. (Oh yes- subscribing does not mean I will somehow invade your personal computer space. Your privacy is yours alone. I don't collect or use anyone's data in any way for any reason. I'm just glad to know you read my blog.)
I will give you until March 31st to subscribe. Then I will put your name in a hat (a very nice felt and velvet hat, by the way) with the other names. I will put my right hand in, right hand out, right hand in and shake it all about, and say the magic words, Duo Muggulus Winnus. Your name will probably fly to my hand, as to a magnet.
Why not post a link to this on your FB page? It would be so nice of you! Nice people deserve a chance at a couple of new mugs! Your friends are most welcome to visit my blog.
Previous subscribers and winners are already in the pool. Subsequent mug drawings will always contain all U.S. subscribers who are still with me. If, perchance, you do not win, there will be another drawing eventually, and another...
You must be a subscriber to be eligible for the drawing.
These are the two lovelies being given, basking on the porch in the first cloudy, faint glimmers of Spring:
You must be in the U.S. to be eligible. Otherwise there are no rules. Oh, it would help if you were attracted by handmade mugs, so light to hold, so happy to make your acquaintance. Because these are that oxymoron, cheerfully blue mugs, just for you.
How do you subscribe? Option One: Allllll the way down to the very bottommost bottom of this page, there is a link that reads Subscribe Now. Click it. Choose from the options how you want to subscribe- do you want notice of new posts to come to your Yahoo? Your Google page? Or-? Then just follow directions. Easy shmeezy. Option Two: In the URL box at the top of this window, you will see a blue (mac) or orange (PC) squarish shape with some curved white lines in it. Hover your mouse over it. It will say Subscribe to This Page. Go for it, same as in Option One. Still easy shmeezy. (Oh yes- subscribing does not mean I will somehow invade your personal computer space. Your privacy is yours alone. I don't collect or use anyone's data in any way for any reason. I'm just glad to know you read my blog.)
I will give you until March 31st to subscribe. Then I will put your name in a hat (a very nice felt and velvet hat, by the way) with the other names. I will put my right hand in, right hand out, right hand in and shake it all about, and say the magic words, Duo Muggulus Winnus. Your name will probably fly to my hand, as to a magnet.
Why not post a link to this on your FB page? It would be so nice of you! Nice people deserve a chance at a couple of new mugs! Your friends are most welcome to visit my blog.
Previous subscribers and winners are already in the pool. Subsequent mug drawings will always contain all U.S. subscribers who are still with me. If, perchance, you do not win, there will be another drawing eventually, and another...
I Took Out My Camera & They Started Mugging
They have been proliferating in my studio. They are lounging on the shelves. They are snooty, not talking to the bowls next door. Worst of all, they are incredible hams. As soon as I cranked up my camera, they started mugging all over the place. They can just move on out, as far as I'm concerned. Someone might like to pay their moving expenses...
The cutie pie mugs double as espresso cups. They hold about 6 oz, and they are a friendly lot, varying a little in height and color but looking like siblings. First they were just standing around... then they did a stack. Little showoffs. ($12 each)
Then the small mugs hurried over. At a little over 7 oz. capacity, and about 3 3/4" high, they think they're pretty cute. They're kind of a diverse crew. ($15 each)
They begged for a closeup, being pretty vain. I obliged.
(Note: The top left small mug has been sold. Thank you!)
The quite-a-bit-bigger mugs (which I think of as Medium) were asking to be handled next- they intended no pun. These ambled over a little slower, as they are built to contain 12-13 oz. At 3.5"-4.75" tall, they swagger a little, too. There were 8 of them, some related to each other and some just friends of the family. They thought they were the biggest, but they weren't. ($22 each)
Then the Muggi Jumbissimi arrived in a pack. They are quiet for their size, gentle giants, but the other mugs shrank back in respect. At 16 oz capacity, they know their own worth, but never brag. ($24 each)
(Note: One of these Jumbissimi has found a new home. Thank you!)
Four shy ones had to be coaxed into being seen. The cream ones hold 8 oz and the green ones hold 10 oz. They are self-conscious, because they are the only ones with 2-finger handles instead of 3-finger or 4-finger handles. They don't need to feel inadequate, though. They're really very sweet. Some people love the 2-finger-handle types and these were just made for those folks. The cream-colored ones ($18 each) can hold 8 oz, and the green ones ($20 each) 10 oz.
(Note: The upper green mug has been sold. Thank you!)
mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com
You can give these characters a new home and give me room for the next group!
The cutie pie mugs double as espresso cups. They hold about 6 oz, and they are a friendly lot, varying a little in height and color but looking like siblings. First they were just standing around... then they did a stack. Little showoffs. ($12 each)
Then the small mugs hurried over. At a little over 7 oz. capacity, and about 3 3/4" high, they think they're pretty cute. They're kind of a diverse crew. ($15 each)
They begged for a closeup, being pretty vain. I obliged.
(Note: The top left small mug has been sold. Thank you!)
The quite-a-bit-bigger mugs (which I think of as Medium) were asking to be handled next- they intended no pun. These ambled over a little slower, as they are built to contain 12-13 oz. At 3.5"-4.75" tall, they swagger a little, too. There were 8 of them, some related to each other and some just friends of the family. They thought they were the biggest, but they weren't. ($22 each)
Then the Muggi Jumbissimi arrived in a pack. They are quiet for their size, gentle giants, but the other mugs shrank back in respect. At 16 oz capacity, they know their own worth, but never brag. ($24 each)
Four shy ones had to be coaxed into being seen. The cream ones hold 8 oz and the green ones hold 10 oz. They are self-conscious, because they are the only ones with 2-finger handles instead of 3-finger or 4-finger handles. They don't need to feel inadequate, though. They're really very sweet. Some people love the 2-finger-handle types and these were just made for those folks. The cream-colored ones ($18 each) can hold 8 oz, and the green ones ($20 each) 10 oz.
(Note: The upper green mug has been sold. Thank you!)
mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com
You can give these characters a new home and give me room for the next group!
Raised-Leaf Tall Bowl; Only on Sunday group
Chinese Blue-Green is strong enough to stand on its own merit. It pools into carved lines and is thinner on raised areas, making it interesting on this narrow-footed, triangular-profile bowl. Third in the tall bowl series, although shorter than the others, this one is 6" tall, 8" at the mouth and 2.5" at the foot.
It's interesting inside as well as out, because the raised areas on the exterior were formed by carefully and gradually pushing out places in the interior. (It is $45 from my studio, plus shipping, and tax if you're in NJ; e-mail me at mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com to purchase.)
In other news, my website is being worked on and should go back up, fresh and robust with a new look, sometime in the pretty near future. Rena is the graphic designer we needed, and Web-a-Deb and I are back, armed with method and madness to get this sucker rolling.
More on the piggy-toe of a dream from a previous post: I am looking to talk with artisans who are in NJ and can't do the regular weekend shows because they don't "do" Saturdays. I don't have a plan in place, just a few ideas, but would like to talk about forming a traveling group of artisans who would like to put together home and community center shows on Sundays now and then. My reason? Besides the Sabbath thing (no commerce on Friday evening/Saturdays), there is the 50% galleries often take to make it worth their while to show our work. It's not that galleries don't deserve a decent cut- they deserve a profit for showcasing artists' work, and their rents are high per square foot. Besides rent, it takes plenty of work and overhead to keep a gallery going. But it's a difficult line for me to walk to keep prices accessible without radically shortchanging myself, and at the same time adequately compensate the gallery.
So I also need to have some other options in addition to galleries. Maybe you do, too. If you want to talk about perhaps forming a NJ group of artisans looking to show and sell together, (for this moment and so far only in my mind called "Only on Sundays"- not really the name to end up with), e-mail me and put "Only on Sundays" in the subject line. We'll discuss. Remember, talking does not guarantee inclusion, assuming this puppy ever gets off the ground, but I'm game to talk and look at your work. The only promise I am making is that I will be opinionated, and this request is not a guarantee or even offer at this embryonic juncture. Let's just dip a little toe in the water and see what the temperature is.
Maybe something artsy and interesting will begin to come together.
It's interesting inside as well as out, because the raised areas on the exterior were formed by carefully and gradually pushing out places in the interior. (It is $45 from my studio, plus shipping, and tax if you're in NJ; e-mail me at mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com to purchase.)
In other news, my website is being worked on and should go back up, fresh and robust with a new look, sometime in the pretty near future. Rena is the graphic designer we needed, and Web-a-Deb and I are back, armed with method and madness to get this sucker rolling.
More on the piggy-toe of a dream from a previous post: I am looking to talk with artisans who are in NJ and can't do the regular weekend shows because they don't "do" Saturdays. I don't have a plan in place, just a few ideas, but would like to talk about forming a traveling group of artisans who would like to put together home and community center shows on Sundays now and then. My reason? Besides the Sabbath thing (no commerce on Friday evening/Saturdays), there is the 50% galleries often take to make it worth their while to show our work. It's not that galleries don't deserve a decent cut- they deserve a profit for showcasing artists' work, and their rents are high per square foot. Besides rent, it takes plenty of work and overhead to keep a gallery going. But it's a difficult line for me to walk to keep prices accessible without radically shortchanging myself, and at the same time adequately compensate the gallery.
So I also need to have some other options in addition to galleries. Maybe you do, too. If you want to talk about perhaps forming a NJ group of artisans looking to show and sell together, (for this moment and so far only in my mind called "Only on Sundays"- not really the name to end up with), e-mail me and put "Only on Sundays" in the subject line. We'll discuss. Remember, talking does not guarantee inclusion, assuming this puppy ever gets off the ground, but I'm game to talk and look at your work. The only promise I am making is that I will be opinionated, and this request is not a guarantee or even offer at this embryonic juncture. Let's just dip a little toe in the water and see what the temperature is.
Maybe something artsy and interesting will begin to come together.
Mezuzah Cases Delivered! 3 Available
I delivered 20 of these yesterday to a very nice nursing home/rehabilitation facility in Edison, NJ. Here is a sample, just set up against a board in my studio:
I have only 3 of this batch left right now. (I will make more after I get finished making the little plates to go under the seder goblets I just made.) The mezuzah cases are individually handmade from clay I roll out, cut and form into tubes with a side flange for style. Color involves both brushing-with and dipping-into my homemade glazes. At $35 each (plus shipping, and tax in NJ) these can be bought by e-mailing me at mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com, or by stopping by the studio. These mezuzah cases fit beautifully on a standard doorframe.
I have only 3 of this batch left right now. (I will make more after I get finished making the little plates to go under the seder goblets I just made.) The mezuzah cases are individually handmade from clay I roll out, cut and form into tubes with a side flange for style. Color involves both brushing-with and dipping-into my homemade glazes. At $35 each (plus shipping, and tax in NJ) these can be bought by e-mailing me at mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com, or by stopping by the studio. These mezuzah cases fit beautifully on a standard doorframe.
Tall Bowl Series
Here's a quick update on the tall bowls.
The second bowl, taller than it is wide:
and a little closer detail:
The nutmeg glaze is a truly satin matte. It feels as soft as silk. And the leaves? I love leaves. They are the most common motif in my pottery.
I was asked for more information on this bowl. It is made on my potter's kickwheel, hand carved (very contemplative and enjoyable) and hand dipped in glazes. I made the glazes, as I do with almost all my glazes, from recipes using various powders with lovely names like dolomite and bentonite and nepheline syenite and spodumene. It doesn't get much more handmade than this in the contemporary pottery world.
The bowl is 7.5" tall, 6.5" wide at the mouth and just under 3" wide at the narrow foot. It was fired to 2,290 degrees F in my electric kiln. It is currently the only one of its kind (I plan to make somewhat similar ones, but these can never be exactly alike- they are freehand). If you're interested in owning this tall carved bowl, it is $60 plus shipping (& tax if you live in NJ), and you can buy it by way of an e-mail to mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com.
Feel free to pass on the link to my blog! In the absence of my ailing website, it is the best way I have to keep showing the pottery I am making as fast as I produce it. Thanks! And thanks, you guys who buy my work!
The second bowl, taller than it is wide:
and a little closer detail:
The nutmeg glaze is a truly satin matte. It feels as soft as silk. And the leaves? I love leaves. They are the most common motif in my pottery.
I was asked for more information on this bowl. It is made on my potter's kickwheel, hand carved (very contemplative and enjoyable) and hand dipped in glazes. I made the glazes, as I do with almost all my glazes, from recipes using various powders with lovely names like dolomite and bentonite and nepheline syenite and spodumene. It doesn't get much more handmade than this in the contemporary pottery world.
The bowl is 7.5" tall, 6.5" wide at the mouth and just under 3" wide at the narrow foot. It was fired to 2,290 degrees F in my electric kiln. It is currently the only one of its kind (I plan to make somewhat similar ones, but these can never be exactly alike- they are freehand). If you're interested in owning this tall carved bowl, it is $60 plus shipping (& tax if you live in NJ), and you can buy it by way of an e-mail to mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com.
Feel free to pass on the link to my blog! In the absence of my ailing website, it is the best way I have to keep showing the pottery I am making as fast as I produce it. Thanks! And thanks, you guys who buy my work!
Tall Bowl with Narrow Foot
Recently, visiting my daughter, I noticed a bowl I made and gave her when she was in grad school. It is on a corner étagère in her living room, not in a kitchen cabinet. I liked the form, and the decorative brushwork on it.
“It’s not a useful shape,” she said, “but I like it.”
My byword at the studio has usually been “function” over the years.
This is theoretically a functional object, but the narrow profile, taller than it is round, standing on a narrow foot, makes it fairly impractical.
I thought I would have another go at this form. As long as it is impractical anyway, I altered the round rim to three-sided, and impressed it with a couple of wave stamps I made a few years back. I made several, altered, stamped and carved.
The first one to be glazed:
I like the surprise of a red interior, contrasting with the cool green exterior.
There’s another, taller, narrower one with deep carving on it currently in the kiln. This is fun. Not too functional, but fun.
Some info about this Chinese Blue Green and Red tall bowl: It is 6.75" high, 7" across at the mouth, and just 2.5" across at the nice neat raised foot. It is fired to 2,290 degrees F in my electric kiln. Like all fine stoneware that is not too thick, it has a nice ring when tapped; this one is fairly low in tone. I know because I went around tapping pots today- a kind of studio music! It is $60 (plus shipping, and tax if you live in NJ) from my studio, and can be bought by e-mailing me at mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com. It is currently the only one like it I have. Each Tall Bowl I make will always be somewhat different from the previous one.
“It’s not a useful shape,” she said, “but I like it.”
My byword at the studio has usually been “function” over the years.
This is theoretically a functional object, but the narrow profile, taller than it is round, standing on a narrow foot, makes it fairly impractical.
I thought I would have another go at this form. As long as it is impractical anyway, I altered the round rim to three-sided, and impressed it with a couple of wave stamps I made a few years back. I made several, altered, stamped and carved.
The first one to be glazed:
I like the surprise of a red interior, contrasting with the cool green exterior.
There’s another, taller, narrower one with deep carving on it currently in the kiln. This is fun. Not too functional, but fun.
Some info about this Chinese Blue Green and Red tall bowl: It is 6.75" high, 7" across at the mouth, and just 2.5" across at the nice neat raised foot. It is fired to 2,290 degrees F in my electric kiln. Like all fine stoneware that is not too thick, it has a nice ring when tapped; this one is fairly low in tone. I know because I went around tapping pots today- a kind of studio music! It is $60 (plus shipping, and tax if you live in NJ) from my studio, and can be bought by e-mailing me at mimi@mimistadlerpottery.com. It is currently the only one like it I have. Each Tall Bowl I make will always be somewhat different from the previous one.
Mezuzahs, Goblets, Mugs, & the Piggy-Toe of a Dream
It’s back to the drawing board for Mimi Stadler Pottery. I am down one website, and the DebMaster is beginning to create the second. The first was “too broke to fix.” It was better to start again with a new template. Stay tuned for the further Adventures in Website Building, a rollicking tale…or not...Some plain hard work and a dash of creativity oughta get it done.
Meanwhile. mezuzah cases are awaiting the bisque kiln. These are decorative casings in which to place rolled parchments with a special prayer on them. They go on most doorways in a Jewish home, only missing the bathrooms. I have an order for 20, for a nursing care facility. They’re nice mezuzahs, I think.
The one on the right is just dry clay with some underglaze on it. When some clear and some green glazes are applied, and it is glaze-fired, it will look like the one on the left. Notice the difference in size? Raw clay shrinks when it is glaze fired. They will end up pretty similar. There are two other design toppers, a heart and a flower, on other mezuzah cases.
I will be glad to make more of these as called for. The best part of this lot is they’ve been pre-ordered, which means they are paid for even as I make them. This is a nice way to work. I should do this all the time.
With Passover not far away, there are simple goblets to get ready to sell. I will sort them for sets with similar capacity (between 4.5 and 6 oz., I think) once they are fired. Next week, between making website decisions and thinking about a kitchen renovation (yahoo!), I want to make little plates for each of them.
I was asked to make mugs that show the color of the tea that will be drunk from them. I faceted two mugs, and made two with soft throwing rings visible under subtle glazing. Two glazes layered over each other gave this nice cream color, with a hint of rust speckle here and there:
Meanwhile I am dipping my toe in the first little wavelet of a dream that might go somewhere. I have an idea for marketing handmade artistry with a group of like-minded individuals who are not able to take part in the available Saturday shows. More on that as this dream pool begins to gain some depth.
Meanwhile. mezuzah cases are awaiting the bisque kiln. These are decorative casings in which to place rolled parchments with a special prayer on them. They go on most doorways in a Jewish home, only missing the bathrooms. I have an order for 20, for a nursing care facility. They’re nice mezuzahs, I think.
The one on the right is just dry clay with some underglaze on it. When some clear and some green glazes are applied, and it is glaze-fired, it will look like the one on the left. Notice the difference in size? Raw clay shrinks when it is glaze fired. They will end up pretty similar. There are two other design toppers, a heart and a flower, on other mezuzah cases.
I will be glad to make more of these as called for. The best part of this lot is they’ve been pre-ordered, which means they are paid for even as I make them. This is a nice way to work. I should do this all the time.
With Passover not far away, there are simple goblets to get ready to sell. I will sort them for sets with similar capacity (between 4.5 and 6 oz., I think) once they are fired. Next week, between making website decisions and thinking about a kitchen renovation (yahoo!), I want to make little plates for each of them.
I was asked to make mugs that show the color of the tea that will be drunk from them. I faceted two mugs, and made two with soft throwing rings visible under subtle glazing. Two glazes layered over each other gave this nice cream color, with a hint of rust speckle here and there:
Meanwhile I am dipping my toe in the first little wavelet of a dream that might go somewhere. I have an idea for marketing handmade artistry with a group of like-minded individuals who are not able to take part in the available Saturday shows. More on that as this dream pool begins to gain some depth.
Finished Goblets
Unloaded a glaze kiln today. Some very nice things, including goblets. Here is the commissioned one that started the project, with a Hebrew name on it.
It has its own little plate. I did that for the other goblets, too:
And I added two of an experimental style, with large volume, and wide in the base. These were carved and underglazed blue before being clear-glazed:
Last but not least is the one I showed you in raw form last time:
I really like the way they came out.
It has its own little plate. I did that for the other goblets, too:
And I added two of an experimental style, with large volume, and wide in the base. These were carved and underglazed blue before being clear-glazed:
Last but not least is the one I showed you in raw form last time:
I really like the way they came out.
Snow Light, Glazing, Soup
Snow is collapsing slowly into a denser and less deep covering outside as 2010 comes to a close. Two days ago, it looked like this:
after more than 30" hit the deck.
This was a good week to glaze. Being the procrastinator I am, and loving the bright light streaming through the windows, it was hard to find enthusiasm for descending those basement steps to work. But this and other goblets and pots
had been bisque-fired and were ready to be glazed. So I brought them upstairs in several trips, to the dining room table, along with my sample tiles of recent glaze colors. Sitting in the sun planning, I made a drawing of each piece and notes on how it will be glazed.
THEN everything went back downstairs, and I started the glazing process. The bottom of each foot was waxed to resist glaze, and when that dried, each piece got a dip in glaze and/or had glaze poured into it. Between pourings and dippings, the pots were left for hours or overnight to dry before getting the next glaze.
This is not the spontaneous splish-splashing some can do and still end up with something that looks reasonable, and it isn't the tedious brushing of 3 coats of commercial glaze of the paint-your-own hobbyists. It's what I call cerebralizing the glazing. Plan and execute. It's the only way I get this done. I don't like glazing pots.
Meanwhile, while a big pot of chicken soup is simmering, I am taking a few minutes for my much-procrastinated (do we see a theme?) next blog post. By the end of today I hope to have the glazing finished, and a kiln loaded with glazed ware and closed, to be fired Sunday all day. Photos Monday, I hope!
after more than 30" hit the deck.
This was a good week to glaze. Being the procrastinator I am, and loving the bright light streaming through the windows, it was hard to find enthusiasm for descending those basement steps to work. But this and other goblets and pots
had been bisque-fired and were ready to be glazed. So I brought them upstairs in several trips, to the dining room table, along with my sample tiles of recent glaze colors. Sitting in the sun planning, I made a drawing of each piece and notes on how it will be glazed.
THEN everything went back downstairs, and I started the glazing process. The bottom of each foot was waxed to resist glaze, and when that dried, each piece got a dip in glaze and/or had glaze poured into it. Between pourings and dippings, the pots were left for hours or overnight to dry before getting the next glaze.
This is not the spontaneous splish-splashing some can do and still end up with something that looks reasonable, and it isn't the tedious brushing of 3 coats of commercial glaze of the paint-your-own hobbyists. It's what I call cerebralizing the glazing. Plan and execute. It's the only way I get this done. I don't like glazing pots.
Meanwhile, while a big pot of chicken soup is simmering, I am taking a few minutes for my much-procrastinated (do we see a theme?) next blog post. By the end of today I hope to have the glazing finished, and a kiln loaded with glazed ware and closed, to be fired Sunday all day. Photos Monday, I hope!
It Isn't All About Clay
Going from potter to artist-entrepreneur is a sea change.
After 25 years learning and plying my craft, I keep finding out how much I don’t know about selling pottery.
Fortunately, there are books, articles and organizations to educate artists if you look for them.
Apparently many ninth graders learn the acronym SMART, though I did not- Specific Measurable Attainable Realistic Timely. This is, for me, a reminder that my time to make art is not endless, so it had better be used judiciously.
This week I didn’t make new work (though I did fire a glaze test kiln Sunday.) Instead, on Monday I went to a half-day seminar on Business Savvy for Artists, given by a very savvy consultant through the Arts Council of the Morris Area, and got a very broad overview of some sound business principles. There’s only so much to learn in four hours, so a list of useful books in relevant areas means I have some reading to do for a while. One thing I learned for sure is that my business card is a very poor design. (Well, I really knew that. Have you seen my sad business card? I've been penning in contact information.)
Meanwhile, Guerrilla Marketing on the Internet by Jay Conrad Levinson et al is my current textbook. There are also some good articles about using social media, that I found on Yahoo.
I never read all the way through the golden oldie, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, which is waiting for me with a bookmark where I last left off. (The bookmark is the very beautiful business card of another potter.) I’ve been working on some interesting paradigm shifts for Mimi Stadler Pottery. The result should be greater intensity in the surfaces and colors of my work in the coming months.
As a result of the Arts Council workshop, I have a further reading list at least six books long. Well, I've got plenty of notepaper, and a thirst to know and grow.
The key point here is I didn’t learn how to be a businessperson when I was learning (at Kean University in Union, NJ) to be a potter. The lack of business courses is a serious flaw in art education almost anywhere, not just at Kean.
Tuesday, I met with my favorite web builder. Deborah. The website is my business brochure and shop. Deborah's done a very good job so far, though I made the mistake of not consulting with a web designer (not the same as builder) first, so that my website took a very long time to come together. I have no clue about html, and Deborah had not done an artist’s shop-type website before. We made some poor design decisions the first time around. The site has had to evolve s-l-o-w-l-y, as we saw what was missing or fixed errors of poor judgment. It has mostly come together, but wow, it's been a long process. You KNOW it’s not good when the artist does not want to go to her own website for a visit. It had issues, now resolved. And I think it's kinda pretty, too.
Wednesday, I took a box of my pottery to a cooperative gallery an hour away, to show a committee of artists on its board my work, and let them decide if it has a place in their shop. (They will let me know. They have a waiting list.) I am very interested in the co-op gallery concept, and wish there was one locally.
Thursday, as you know, was Thanksgiving. Among all the other aspects of life for which I am grateful, I am thankful to be healthy and capable and working in a field I love. I’m thankful that I have the capacity to continue learning new angles of an old business.
My normal studio workweek ends with Thursday. Friday is my day for cooking, setting the house to rights, and errands, as I prepare for the Sabbath that falls in the evening. Luckily I don’t need any books to tell me how to do that. Like Jewish homemakers everywhere, I’ve done the pre-Sabbath routine week after week for years. It’s like making Thanksgiving every Friday- clockwork production.
Next week, happily, it’s back to the clay with me. I owe pots I haven't made yet (Specific), I have no large beautiful bowls in stock (Attainable), and I just received a commission for an item of Judaica (wine goblet and plate) that I must get right on (Timely). (Pottery Making Illustrated had an article on one-piece goblets back in 2008, and I kept the issue. I want to try the technique.) The web site needs Judaica urgently, too (Measurable), leading to work on designing and making a series of wine goblets and plates in various group configurations, as well as new washing cups and mezuzah cases. In fact, that’s at least a month’s work, right there.
When I say what it is I do, I sometimes hear, "Potter? Oooh, you must have so much fun!" I just smile. I do have fun. But maybe there's the occasional smidgeon of work in it now and then...
After 25 years learning and plying my craft, I keep finding out how much I don’t know about selling pottery.
Fortunately, there are books, articles and organizations to educate artists if you look for them.
Apparently many ninth graders learn the acronym SMART, though I did not- Specific Measurable Attainable Realistic Timely. This is, for me, a reminder that my time to make art is not endless, so it had better be used judiciously.
This week I didn’t make new work (though I did fire a glaze test kiln Sunday.) Instead, on Monday I went to a half-day seminar on Business Savvy for Artists, given by a very savvy consultant through the Arts Council of the Morris Area, and got a very broad overview of some sound business principles. There’s only so much to learn in four hours, so a list of useful books in relevant areas means I have some reading to do for a while. One thing I learned for sure is that my business card is a very poor design. (Well, I really knew that. Have you seen my sad business card? I've been penning in contact information.)
Meanwhile, Guerrilla Marketing on the Internet by Jay Conrad Levinson et al is my current textbook. There are also some good articles about using social media, that I found on Yahoo.
I never read all the way through the golden oldie, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, which is waiting for me with a bookmark where I last left off. (The bookmark is the very beautiful business card of another potter.) I’ve been working on some interesting paradigm shifts for Mimi Stadler Pottery. The result should be greater intensity in the surfaces and colors of my work in the coming months.
As a result of the Arts Council workshop, I have a further reading list at least six books long. Well, I've got plenty of notepaper, and a thirst to know and grow.
The key point here is I didn’t learn how to be a businessperson when I was learning (at Kean University in Union, NJ) to be a potter. The lack of business courses is a serious flaw in art education almost anywhere, not just at Kean.
Tuesday, I met with my favorite web builder. Deborah. The website is my business brochure and shop. Deborah's done a very good job so far, though I made the mistake of not consulting with a web designer (not the same as builder) first, so that my website took a very long time to come together. I have no clue about html, and Deborah had not done an artist’s shop-type website before. We made some poor design decisions the first time around. The site has had to evolve s-l-o-w-l-y, as we saw what was missing or fixed errors of poor judgment. It has mostly come together, but wow, it's been a long process. You KNOW it’s not good when the artist does not want to go to her own website for a visit. It had issues, now resolved. And I think it's kinda pretty, too.
Wednesday, I took a box of my pottery to a cooperative gallery an hour away, to show a committee of artists on its board my work, and let them decide if it has a place in their shop. (They will let me know. They have a waiting list.) I am very interested in the co-op gallery concept, and wish there was one locally.
Thursday, as you know, was Thanksgiving. Among all the other aspects of life for which I am grateful, I am thankful to be healthy and capable and working in a field I love. I’m thankful that I have the capacity to continue learning new angles of an old business.
My normal studio workweek ends with Thursday. Friday is my day for cooking, setting the house to rights, and errands, as I prepare for the Sabbath that falls in the evening. Luckily I don’t need any books to tell me how to do that. Like Jewish homemakers everywhere, I’ve done the pre-Sabbath routine week after week for years. It’s like making Thanksgiving every Friday- clockwork production.
Next week, happily, it’s back to the clay with me. I owe pots I haven't made yet (Specific), I have no large beautiful bowls in stock (Attainable), and I just received a commission for an item of Judaica (wine goblet and plate) that I must get right on (Timely). (Pottery Making Illustrated had an article on one-piece goblets back in 2008, and I kept the issue. I want to try the technique.) The web site needs Judaica urgently, too (Measurable), leading to work on designing and making a series of wine goblets and plates in various group configurations, as well as new washing cups and mezuzah cases. In fact, that’s at least a month’s work, right there.
When I say what it is I do, I sometimes hear, "Potter? Oooh, you must have so much fun!" I just smile. I do have fun. But maybe there's the occasional smidgeon of work in it now and then...
On Burping Glazes, or the Perfect Nature of Imperfection
Why isn’t the band of glaze color perfectly even around the rims of my mugs and bowls?
When I put a band of color on for contrast at the rim, why does it waver and speckle? Why isn’t it a precise, clean, perfect, (come on, anal) line? Commercial mugs and bowls have perfect lines. Is my mug or bowl inferior?
It all starts with how I apply the glaze. When it comes time to glaze the nekkit once-fired pots, I don’t usually sit there with a little bitty brush and make painstaking decorations. I turn the piece over and dip it right into the 4-gallon bucket of wet glaze. Or, if it is too big for the bucket, I pour the glaze all over it. Sometimes I glaze the inside one color and the outside another. Or I dip the piece all at once, inside and out both, in one practiced dunk, and when the thirsty pottery has absorbed all the water out of the glaze and dried again, I may dip it back, just the rim, in another bucket of a different glaze color.
This is where imperfection rears its juvenile delinquent head.
I admit it. I’m imperfect. I can’t hold every single pot exactly level when I glaze it. Sometimes I achieve this nirvana, but often the pots enter their glaze bath very slightly crooked. They sneer at my inability to see through the plastic bucket and tell if I’ve got the exact same depth of rim dipped all around, so that the air trapped inside the upside down bowl maintains even resistance all across, to the surface of the glaze in the bucket.
See, the pot wants to be dipped exactly straight, or it burps. Some air sneaks inside if it is held at even a slight angle, and a little spit-up of color hops past its allotted line in impish, messy glee.
Sometimes the son of a gun sucks up the little gush of air really fast, so that the bucket throws up a small spatter of droplets of the wet rim color right into the interior of the pot.
Beautiful clean white interior? Freckled now. Trying to scrape off the freckles is going to damage the glaze under them. So there they will remain.
Freckled, juvenile delinquent pots. They are a lesson in the beauty of imperfection.
Look at it this way. (I know I have to.) Every little speckle and out-of-the-ordinary overlap gives you something for your thumb to run over and your eye to contemplate. I know that you didn’t buy my mug or bowl because you wanted exactitude. You saw right away you weren’t getting that, even if you were getting something very nice. What you got was a piece of pottery nobody else had exactly, even if there were 10 similar ones at my show or in the gallery. No two are precisely identical. It’s the unpredictable thing, like glazes that burp in the bucket, that make each one of my production pots (multiples in a series) itself and not quite like another. It is the nature of humanness to be imperfect and I sure as heck am human when I make pottery.
Pottery making is a constant reminder of humility. Glazes will burp and spit despite me, or to spite me, maybe. It’s like life. There’s no such thing as perfect, and if you had it, it might feel a little wrong.
When I put a band of color on for contrast at the rim, why does it waver and speckle? Why isn’t it a precise, clean, perfect, (come on, anal) line? Commercial mugs and bowls have perfect lines. Is my mug or bowl inferior?
It all starts with how I apply the glaze. When it comes time to glaze the nekkit once-fired pots, I don’t usually sit there with a little bitty brush and make painstaking decorations. I turn the piece over and dip it right into the 4-gallon bucket of wet glaze. Or, if it is too big for the bucket, I pour the glaze all over it. Sometimes I glaze the inside one color and the outside another. Or I dip the piece all at once, inside and out both, in one practiced dunk, and when the thirsty pottery has absorbed all the water out of the glaze and dried again, I may dip it back, just the rim, in another bucket of a different glaze color.
This is where imperfection rears its juvenile delinquent head.
I admit it. I’m imperfect. I can’t hold every single pot exactly level when I glaze it. Sometimes I achieve this nirvana, but often the pots enter their glaze bath very slightly crooked. They sneer at my inability to see through the plastic bucket and tell if I’ve got the exact same depth of rim dipped all around, so that the air trapped inside the upside down bowl maintains even resistance all across, to the surface of the glaze in the bucket.
See, the pot wants to be dipped exactly straight, or it burps. Some air sneaks inside if it is held at even a slight angle, and a little spit-up of color hops past its allotted line in impish, messy glee.
Sometimes the son of a gun sucks up the little gush of air really fast, so that the bucket throws up a small spatter of droplets of the wet rim color right into the interior of the pot.
Beautiful clean white interior? Freckled now. Trying to scrape off the freckles is going to damage the glaze under them. So there they will remain.
Freckled, juvenile delinquent pots. They are a lesson in the beauty of imperfection.
Look at it this way. (I know I have to.) Every little speckle and out-of-the-ordinary overlap gives you something for your thumb to run over and your eye to contemplate. I know that you didn’t buy my mug or bowl because you wanted exactitude. You saw right away you weren’t getting that, even if you were getting something very nice. What you got was a piece of pottery nobody else had exactly, even if there were 10 similar ones at my show or in the gallery. No two are precisely identical. It’s the unpredictable thing, like glazes that burp in the bucket, that make each one of my production pots (multiples in a series) itself and not quite like another. It is the nature of humanness to be imperfect and I sure as heck am human when I make pottery.
Pottery making is a constant reminder of humility. Glazes will burp and spit despite me, or to spite me, maybe. It’s like life. There’s no such thing as perfect, and if you had it, it might feel a little wrong.
Summer Days and Pottery Shows
Our Potters Guild pottery show this weekend was made up of pretty diverse people and their pretty diverse pottery. From the face jug potter who calls her little fellows by name as she chattily sets them among the fifty other pieces of colorful pottery on her table, to the quiet potter with just six groups of nine perfect pots each, we run a gamut of styles.
Here was a potter whose creamy white, glossy porcelain cups, plates and buttons are incised with personable barnyard animals and a kitchen dooryard mama. Her table was set up beside another potter's whose glazes are mostly as dark as the sky when the sun has just set, swirling with black and navy clouds and with highly textured, unglazed handles of deepest brown. Contrast!
Across the room another guild member had arrayed her crystalline vases and cups, each one having grown a surface of smooth crystals in sparkling colors in her kiln, looking as if she managed to flatten the insides of geodes and apply them delicately to her pots.
Aesthetics varied even more widely. One potter’s brightly glazed, shiny majolica earthenware bore little likeness to another potter’s arched and lobed stoneware across the room, in moody, rocklike grays, blues and browns, though both were tableware.
My own pottery on the right half of my shared table contrasted in intention with that of my tablemate to the left. My soft green, black, blue and white, homey pieces are clearly about function. My table mate's vases, bowls and teaware are really 360-degree canvases for her extremely elegant and quite beautiful drawings of fish, birds and trees. Though we are both functional potters, our work speaks two very different languages.
Some of us have been making our pottery for years. I’ve been at it for 25, but have shown my work less often than many with shorter potting lives. The woman I shared my wrapping-table shift with began with clay less than three years ago, but she was ready to show. Another, longtime guild member does five shows in November and December alone, and has a devoted following.
I took half a table for this show, thinking I might not have enough work for a whole, and then loaded it with nearly as many pots as it would bear. I could have had enough for a whole table in the end, but this is my first guild show in a while and I wanted to get the feel of the terrain again.
I wasn’t there on Saturday, the first day of the show, (it being the Sabbath, with no personal commerce,) but when I came in Sunday I found a few shards of a mug peeping from under my table. Someone had broken it the day before, and paid for it, so I had made back some of the table fee by accident. Two other mugs had sold Saturday, and that's all. Without the potter being there to jazz up the exchange and talk pottery with the customer, fewer pots are sold.
Still, on Sunday, when I was there, I sold only a jam jar and two little soy sauce dishes. (I did have higher expectations than that...) The jam jar customer loved the jar, “even though it’s imperfect, but of course that’s part of its charm.” She was energizing to talk to, another benefit of doing shows. And I acknowledge that the lid, being hand-built, wasn’t an absolutely perfect fit for the jar, which was wheel-thrown. It was only a pretty good fit. But I saw the customer studying and stroking the glaze on the front of the jar and knew they were a match.
If that’s all I sold, was it worth it, you ask? Was it worth the inventorying, pricing, tagging, packing, unpacking, setup, the day on my feet at the show, and the repacking of unsold work? (In short, you are asking, "How was the show?")
Here’s my conclusion. From noon to six I looked at pottery, wrapped pottery, and talked life and shop with my fellow potters, an interesting, fun and lively bunch. I was glad to be there. By the end of Sunday I was tired, not much richer, but happy enough. I was ready to pack up and head home to a new and different cycle of pottery-making already in process in my studio, with visions of a different sort of show setup next time. I have glazes to test and fish to carve. I am also thinking about how to make more money than I did this weekend. Tune in for the next show or the next gallery- or hey, come see it.
When I was about ten, my friend and I were wandering one summer day in a field near our neighborhood. We found panes of old window glass, and a mud puddle. I spread mud on a pane of glass and began trying to draw a landscape by sticking leaves onto the mud, using daisy, black-eyed-Susan and Queen Anne’s Lace petals like brushstrokes. My friend didn’t like to get dirty, and she thought I was a little nuts, but I was in a glory of summer innovation. The piece was as ephemeral as summer, too, drying and crumbling in a day, but it left an impression in my mind. Art out of mud, leaves and glass is spontaneous. Art out of clay, carved natural forms and glazes is a continuation of a thought pattern. Imagination is not dead. I suppose that I am still ten, along with being five times ten, when I am in my studio innovating.
Pot on.
Here was a potter whose creamy white, glossy porcelain cups, plates and buttons are incised with personable barnyard animals and a kitchen dooryard mama. Her table was set up beside another potter's whose glazes are mostly as dark as the sky when the sun has just set, swirling with black and navy clouds and with highly textured, unglazed handles of deepest brown. Contrast!
Across the room another guild member had arrayed her crystalline vases and cups, each one having grown a surface of smooth crystals in sparkling colors in her kiln, looking as if she managed to flatten the insides of geodes and apply them delicately to her pots.
Aesthetics varied even more widely. One potter’s brightly glazed, shiny majolica earthenware bore little likeness to another potter’s arched and lobed stoneware across the room, in moody, rocklike grays, blues and browns, though both were tableware.
My own pottery on the right half of my shared table contrasted in intention with that of my tablemate to the left. My soft green, black, blue and white, homey pieces are clearly about function. My table mate's vases, bowls and teaware are really 360-degree canvases for her extremely elegant and quite beautiful drawings of fish, birds and trees. Though we are both functional potters, our work speaks two very different languages.
Some of us have been making our pottery for years. I’ve been at it for 25, but have shown my work less often than many with shorter potting lives. The woman I shared my wrapping-table shift with began with clay less than three years ago, but she was ready to show. Another, longtime guild member does five shows in November and December alone, and has a devoted following.
I took half a table for this show, thinking I might not have enough work for a whole, and then loaded it with nearly as many pots as it would bear. I could have had enough for a whole table in the end, but this is my first guild show in a while and I wanted to get the feel of the terrain again.
I wasn’t there on Saturday, the first day of the show, (it being the Sabbath, with no personal commerce,) but when I came in Sunday I found a few shards of a mug peeping from under my table. Someone had broken it the day before, and paid for it, so I had made back some of the table fee by accident. Two other mugs had sold Saturday, and that's all. Without the potter being there to jazz up the exchange and talk pottery with the customer, fewer pots are sold.
Still, on Sunday, when I was there, I sold only a jam jar and two little soy sauce dishes. (I did have higher expectations than that...) The jam jar customer loved the jar, “even though it’s imperfect, but of course that’s part of its charm.” She was energizing to talk to, another benefit of doing shows. And I acknowledge that the lid, being hand-built, wasn’t an absolutely perfect fit for the jar, which was wheel-thrown. It was only a pretty good fit. But I saw the customer studying and stroking the glaze on the front of the jar and knew they were a match.
If that’s all I sold, was it worth it, you ask? Was it worth the inventorying, pricing, tagging, packing, unpacking, setup, the day on my feet at the show, and the repacking of unsold work? (In short, you are asking, "How was the show?")
Here’s my conclusion. From noon to six I looked at pottery, wrapped pottery, and talked life and shop with my fellow potters, an interesting, fun and lively bunch. I was glad to be there. By the end of Sunday I was tired, not much richer, but happy enough. I was ready to pack up and head home to a new and different cycle of pottery-making already in process in my studio, with visions of a different sort of show setup next time. I have glazes to test and fish to carve. I am also thinking about how to make more money than I did this weekend. Tune in for the next show or the next gallery- or hey, come see it.
When I was about ten, my friend and I were wandering one summer day in a field near our neighborhood. We found panes of old window glass, and a mud puddle. I spread mud on a pane of glass and began trying to draw a landscape by sticking leaves onto the mud, using daisy, black-eyed-Susan and Queen Anne’s Lace petals like brushstrokes. My friend didn’t like to get dirty, and she thought I was a little nuts, but I was in a glory of summer innovation. The piece was as ephemeral as summer, too, drying and crumbling in a day, but it left an impression in my mind. Art out of mud, leaves and glass is spontaneous. Art out of clay, carved natural forms and glazes is a continuation of a thought pattern. Imagination is not dead. I suppose that I am still ten, along with being five times ten, when I am in my studio innovating.
Pot on.
Carved Vases, Stage II
The four carved vases were bone dry and it was time to bisque fire them, then glaze them. But I don't think these pots lend themselves to regular glazing. Colored glazes might war with the complicated, busy carving, or mute it. I know from experience that clear glaze alone would be too dull on the buff colored stoneware clay body.
I had a couple of jars of underglazes, though, which are formulated to go on raw pots. There were only light blue and black underglazes, so that is what I used. The photos show the four vases with these underglazes, which I put on fairly dry with a small foam roller and a flat sponge brush. The surfaces of the vases have almost an ink-printed effect. They will be bisque-fired in the old reliable electric kiln later in the week. Afterward, I will clear-glaze over the fired underglazes and fire the pots again.
This is Stage II of the vase story. Tune back to see how the finished, clear-glazed vases come out. I can't wait to see, myself.
I had a couple of jars of underglazes, though, which are formulated to go on raw pots. There were only light blue and black underglazes, so that is what I used. The photos show the four vases with these underglazes, which I put on fairly dry with a small foam roller and a flat sponge brush. The surfaces of the vases have almost an ink-printed effect. They will be bisque-fired in the old reliable electric kiln later in the week. Afterward, I will clear-glaze over the fired underglazes and fire the pots again.
This is Stage II of the vase story. Tune back to see how the finished, clear-glazed vases come out. I can't wait to see, myself.