Eva Zeisel

 I am reading On Design, by Eva Zeisel. Partly I read it for a bit of design education, something I have never really had, and lack.

Mostly I read it because she is my hero.

 I like her work, especially these soft, warm, curvy styles.

In herself, she is Ms Mid-Century, an influential product designer and teacher for decades of the 20th century. She encouraged her Pratt pottery students into competitions and into industrial work, in other words, into modern ceramics work.

And she is a wonderful model for daring and doing. She died in 2011, at age 105, working creatively almost all the way. She made her own path through life.

She grew up in an eminent scholarly family, and turned to art. Wanting a practical art to make a living, she learned pottery. In her cultural environment, handwork and practical craft could not have been much valued. My father grew up in a similar context; I've got a feel for this. He also would have loved to do more with his hands, but went, respectably into science and music.

 For adventure and opportunity, she moved from Hungary to the Soviet  Union, and made a career success, in a new country and language. Yes, she spent time there in prison. With her major scholar husband, she came to the US as a refugee from Hitler. She is quoted, in a video about her, saying about that time: "We were never poor; we just had no money." True: they had education, contacts, past successes, confidence, adaptability. But such courage and will.

Her son, John Zeisel, was an important teacher of mine, so I feel a personal connection to her. I'm finding it a pleasure, just to write about her.

Local Clay

A few weeks ago I visited Bob Deane, a potter in Media, PA. Among other choices, he uses clay he digs out of the local creek beds, takes home, cleans, blends, compresses. It's lots more work than buying a prepared box of a chosen clay body. But he likes it, finds it something special.

"Art, life, breathing is all about connection. Going down to the creeks I played at as child and digging clay feels so right, so connected to my childhood, to the earth, to the river. "

I have heard about and thought about using local clay (though I've never even stopped at the Pottery Canyon Park). I've been in a couple of ancient potting villages in the south of France, where people have dug and used local clay since the Neolithic. But I still buy prepared clay bodies I like.

I bought a little pinch pot from Deane, made of this Media clay. I find it special too. I have not lived there as an adult, had not even visited for many years, but it connects me to home too. It's a very simple thing, a bit rough, glazed with a rather forceful pair of glazes he likes, like a rock. It feels good in the hand.

 It sits peacefully on the desk. And here is the earth of my childhood, in my hand too.

December Nights

This will be the biggest, longest, wildest show I've ever participated in. It's San Diego's city Christmas festival, all over central Balboa Park. Everything is open, plus art sale plus performances plus food.

I'll be in the Artisans' Marketplace part of it, near the Botanical Gardens, the lath house.

December 1, 3 to 11 PM; Dec 2, 10 AM to 11 PM

Come by, sing me a carol, take over my booth and give me a break.

I haven't made these silly fish in several years. They are fun again. Use one as a soap dish, or to hold paperclips on your desk, or? Credit for the design to Reiko Campbell.

" Fine Craftmanship is Attention to Every Detail."

I'm not sure who I am quoting, but it sticks in my head. To me it means pay more attention, take it slow enough to finish every step and detail. That's difficult. It's a version of the general difficult and very good goal: do less better.

Last weekend seemed focused entirely on this message.  I went to a concert by Richard Goode (marvelous pianist). I'm sure he attended to every note as he prepared the music he played; certainly he seemed always to know where the music should go and how to express what he heard in it.

I also went to the San Diego Potters' Guild show. Such a range of work in the same medium, all of it functional pottery. I saw everything from marvels to pots I don't even want to look at. Even if they are beautifully well made, and though I very much care about pottery, some of it is just far from my taste. I find taste fascinatingly variable. I'm sure it is something separate from quality.

For lessons in fine craftsmanship, I always look at Ellen Fager's and Merle Lambeth's work at these shows.  Have a look at the members section of sandiegopottersguild.org.

While you are at it, may I show you my new favorite potters there? Evan Lopez and Michael Ridge. And my perennial favorite, Roberta Klein. That's my taste. You, looking through the same set of web pages, might be attracted to entirely different work.

Maybe fine craftsmanship is necessary but not sufficient to make something attractive. Or maybe it is not even necessary. I have been working towards making light-weight pots, and I am pleased that I am mostly there.  But some of the pots I picked up at this show were really heavy. Is that a flaw? A matter of taste?

From Lindbergh-Schweitzer to Talmadge

Where are these places? And can you tell I think of them as opposites?

I'll be at craft shows the third weekend in November. You could too.

Saturday, November 18,  Lindbergh-Schweitzer Elementary School Craft Show, 9-3. This is a busy, friendly, homey sale of handmade everything, relatively inexpensive. Near the 805 and Balboa in San Diego.

Sunday, November 19, Talmadge Art show, 10-4. This show is full of very classy, often expensive usable art. Lots of gorgeous handmade women's clothing. Liberty Station Conference Center, 2600 Laning, San Diego. Yes, let Google help you find it.

I tend to bring different pots to these two events. Without a real intention to do so, I make pottery that covers this range of quality and style. I'm just starting to wonder why. Part of the answer, I think, is that I am not yet set as a potter,don't have a standard collection of things I make repeatedly. Still exploring. Always, I hope,exploring.

What Grabs You?

I am much inspired by an article by Dubhe Carreno in the October Ceramics Monthly. (That's Carreno with a tilde, but I don't know how to find that here.)

What grabbed me first were photos of her pots, quiet, simple, loose, graceful, lovely.

She began aiming to be a dancer, then a potter, then became a gallery employee and then owner, then a studio potter and a teacher. So many changes, each leading ahead. The article is about her professional passages, each step loved. It's wonderfully open and brave and hopeful. She says "Change is the core of growth" and does it.

As a teen she worked to be a ballet dancer; deciding she was not going to make it as  major pro, she switched to clay. She had discovered it at a friend's studio, "a magical place." They still connect: "ballet is the discipline that formed my character and sensibility as an artist. Your dance cannot  be made to look better than it is, your hard work and true presence is there in front of the audience, no time for edits or after-the-fact fixes. This ingrained knowledge was naturally brought in when I started working with clay. I understood the need to dedicate time to build muscle memory by working long hours to tackle this new medium..."

Studying art, she worked at a gallery, kept that up after school and eventually opened her own gallery. "I lived in the gallery and absolutely loved it."

With the prospect of motherhood, she closed the gallery and started, part-time, to make pots. She took time to revive her working skills, and now loves this stage: "I love the utilitarian nature of my work and strongly believe in being surrounded by beautiful handmade objects that enhance your everyday experience."

"It has been really important to consider major life and career changes as chapters of a rich life. I questioned myself, whenever a change was upon me, am I quitting? But life has showed me that recognizing that you need to change and move organically to the next adventure is a gift. You carry with you all lessons learned. I am so grateful I danced so I can understand how to know clay better, and I needed to know clay better, in order to become an art dealer, and I needed to know how to cultivate a business running my own gallery to discover my own practice, I needed to develop my own practice to become a better teacher."

Perhaps life and changes look so connected, like such a blooming, in retrospect, rather than in the exploring. Perhaps not. I am impressed, both with  her current work, and with her way of living.

See more:

thisquietdustceramics.com

Photos: What Do You See?

I always take photos to keep a record of the pots I make. They are not particularly good pictures, nor interesting, but they remind me adequately. Like this.

Recently Alan Greenberg, a real photographer, took pictures in his garden of my pots. His purpose is to have more photos available for Talmadge Art Show publicity. He offers me the photos. too. What's my purpose beyond the record-keeping? And what do you see differently in his photos?

Look at these.

Do you see the pots or the background of garden? Does it matter? I think these are much more interesting photos.

The best ones are art pieces in themselves, not for the pots more than the garden, just the composition of interesting forms and related colors.  I really like this one, everything round.

 That's one additional purpose: a fine photo. I like having my pots used this way.

What about the publicity? I hope some of these pictures will be used by the Talmadge Art Show. I also use photos in my Etsy shop, to show the pieces for sale from several angles.

  That is certainly second best, for pottery, compared to handling the pot before you decide to buy it. These photos make a three- dimensional object into something two-dimensional, and a thing held in hands into an image for the eye. Not at all what you are getting.

(Have you heard the story about Picasso accosted by someone on a train, who complained about his unrealistic paintings? The complainer showed Picasso a photo of his wife, and said, "this is realistic". Picasso politely peered at the photo, and said, finally, "she sure is small.")

 Etsy suggests we show our pieces in use, to make this form of presentation more realistic. Kitchen and dining pots in the garden are not more realistic. But interesting, eye-catching. Maybe even odd and attractive.

For Etsy I do try to make better photos. Other than a few of pots sitting on a table, all have a plain  background, to focus on the pot. Compared to these photos in the garden, I find that focus does not make them interesting. And there are thousands of pots for sale on Etsy. Interesting and unusual photos may help.

Perhaps less background, to highlight the pot?

Not that one but the next one?

What do you see, the pot or the garden or the photo?

I think I've learned how to make my pots stand out on Etsy. Thanks, Alan.