Christmas in February!

So much fun to open the kiln on a new batch of finished pots! It's like unwrapping a batch of Christmas presents,  a lot at once, partly expected, full of surprises. Perhaps like Christmas presents, there are delights, disappointments, and surprises.

Here is this morning's set of gifts.

The top layer, revealed as the lid of the cooled kiln comes up.

Yes, like kids at Christmas, you wait for the kiln to cool, before putting hands on pots. At cone 5, the temperature I use for glaze firing, the inside of the kiln is at about 2200 degrees when it shuts off. I wait!

And then, unload. The second layer down:

And, since it's a small kiln, the bottom shelf this morning. The pots were still pleasantly warm,like toast.  Mmmm.

Then you give everything a close look. A few wonderful gifts, which came out well.

Even better than I expected. I'll repeat that.

 OK.

I like these. But yes, they touched slightly in the kiln. Oops. Fixable.

A number of OK but not thrilling pots.

And a few real bloopers.

Ew, look close.

That bubbled everywhere. Wish I could just exchange it for another size.

Overall, this is a rewarding load. Compare the pots I brought last week from a cone 10 reduction firing at a community studio.

The blue is a reflection. It's broooown. They're all brown.

.

Disappointments.

On the other hand, two people have told me they like the glaze on this set of soup bowls. What do they see that I don't see? They liked the metallic sheen. I see ohata glaze, dull brown because I applied it too thin. As always, I need to look at these pots for several days, before I let go of my expectations and see what is there.

Landscape Pottery

In the latest Ceramics Monthly, the cover article shows Sue Scobie's astonishing pots and describes her work.

 "I have always enjoyed spending time outdoors. Rock climbing and camping, hiking, or rambling around in Australia and New Zealand take you to some places that leave lasting memories, not just of the physical environment, but also of the weather, wildlife, and shifting light. Some locations hold traces of previous human habitation, which add another layer to the resonance of the place.
  With my work, I try to capture a feeling of the places I have been, and hope that they encourage    people to stop, look, and appreciate what is out there." (p 42)

To me, these pots look like the ground, the geology of a place, to the extent that they reference place. I'm surprised at her choices; she trained as a botanist, and I'd expect her landscapes to include life, maybe to be green and patterned. In deserts the geology shows like this, but in New Zealand?

I find them wonderful pots. I respond to the pictures, would love to handle them. I've made a few unglazed pots, some with mixed clays, but so conservative by comparison. Hers are a challenge.

And they are a technical marvel. She mixes different clays, stoneware and porcelain, and "local materials". This is not supposed to hold together, as different earths, even if they are all clays, shrink different amounts in firing, and the pots fall apart. "I can have big losses due to cracking along the joints between the different types of clay. Sometimes a piece warps to an unacceptable level... On a really bad run, I can lose 80% of a kiln load, but if all goes well, I lose none." Imagine the patience, and the devotion to his vision, that such risk of loss entails. I suspect I'd just do something else.

Her pots remind me of Jennifer Lee's, (jenniferlee.co.uk) which I also love.

Sue Scobie's are wilder. are wilder.