Revision to my previous post, in which I wrote, “I do want to tell graduate schools what they’re looking at, even if I’m more interested in suggesting different ways of looking at the pieces.”

What justification is there for making conventional images of objects, when my interest in the object is not best portrayed by conventional images?

As I wondered, I realized that I was imagining that grad schools expect to be given images that take the conventional object-documentation approach, so I was looking for something that would suit these (imagined, though maybe accurate) expectations.

But: images can, and arguably should, bring a juror into my thought process in a compelling way. My approach should showcase the priorities in my work well. I’m interested in the qualities of object, space, and experience.

So: an approach that is most descriptive of object and fails to describe space and experience – which will be mentioned in my writing – wouldn’t be appropriate.

Cool.

Continuing in chronological order, before I show you the results from firing Gary the Groundhog. First were a few spring pieces. Up now: the results from the WCC woodfire workshop, led by Simon Levin. In that firing, I had two sets of three sculptures each, several of the grinding stone forms, a couple of older cups from the series, nine or ten small teabowls, and a bunch of pods, which were the subject of previous posts here and here. Here are the two groups of sculptures. (I’ll shoot and post the other work from that firing after Thanksgiving.)

This post is also about what I think about in making photographs, viewing photographs, and selecting photographs.

This is one of my final selections for these three sculptures. They’re hand-built with a heavily amended, deliberately nonplastic clay. Tried making only one line in these, to see what happens. I picked this image to describe the three pieces as objects - I do want (*see revision here) to tell graduate schools what they’re looking at, even if I’m more interested in suggesting different ways of looking at the pieces.

For the last year or so, I’ve been working to be cognizant of all the decisions that I make in the ceramic process, and trying to be deliberate about each decision. The camera is a way of censoring, of deciding what information is given to an audience: another decision. In this project as a whole, I’ve been photographing the work in unexpected ways. Don’t think I’m just being contrarian for its own sake: I tend to use a camera to compose images rather than document objects. The choices in photography naturally express an amalgam of my interests. Scale, distilling experience, directed views, qualities of space, unexpected perspective, how all these affect the experience of viewing. It’s interesting to observe how my process comes together.

So, back to selecting images to describe my work. I had an idea I’m excited about – display the pieces, interesting as objects in themselves, with photographs that invite different ways of looking at them. I imagine this being really successful at challenging the usual way of viewing work in a gallery setting. Whether it’s a scale-warping image like the one above, or a macro shot that invites appreciation of subtle variations in surface, images give the viewer a perspective that’s different than strolling by and viewing from standing height, and invites them to look more closely.

That said, this is the other final selection for this group of sculptures. It works. As an image: I like the mono quality, the softness of the foreground and background color, their lower contrast against the pieces, how the whole image highlights subtle variations in color and texture. It describes the pieces and the surfaces. And the perspective suggests a different experience of viewing at the pieces, suggests a different scale for them.

Another image I liked, but not enough. It emphasizes how short these are, and I like the flow of the eye across this image. I like how each piece has a similar halo on it from the firing, too.

Since the lines flow across the image, the eye tends to slide right across, too, and fall off the edge.

Whereas this from a farther vantage point, with the same composition. Since the pieces are captured within the frame, it holds one’s eye longer, too. I tried to get good contrast between the front pieces and the rear one, using a little shadow to differentiate. Turned the pieces so the line would flow easily, and so that areas of color would work together. I’m interested in the way the subjects of the image paint or draw or imply lines and areas of color, purely as a flat compositional effect. Hum, maybe this should be the image-that-describes-the-objects.

This image is my favorite for these two.

This image is also really descriptive. The way the flashing flows from the wad marks makes the pieces look as though they’re leaning away from each other. I went for the other image because it has more of the swirling visual flow that I like.  This one is more bam, bam, visual assault: hot stuff, but not as easy on my eyes. There are a few factors that I can identify, and they all create an image that feels too regimented. The relationship of figure and ground, the flow of the physical lines, the flow of the flashing lines, the way the wad marks create a grid: two, two, two, two. Each of these factors, when looked at in the other image, contribute to a very different visual flow.

Last image. Surprise: it’s the other side of the two above, and the third in the set. I like the softer colors, the way I got the lines on the pieces to ebb and flow to move unjarringly across the image. It doesn’t have the dramatic flashing, which makes for a great photo, but maybe detracts from the anthropomorphism that I’m after. The color of the middle and right pieces are nearly the same, so I used shadow to add depth. A little less shadow would have been fine. The brown curved flash on the right piece references the brown curved flash in the middle of the left piece. The silicon carbide drips make these wonderful soft-colored and soft-edged splotches.

So, there’s that.

Last spring, I finished a few pieces in my ongoing sculpture series. It seems appropriate to post photos in the appropriate order.

First were a pair of fat persons that survived the winter – I lost a bunch of pieces to cracks. In retrospect I’m glad, because I didn’t really need seven of these. But I’m glad for two.

FCSI fired in early April in a wood-fueled salt kiln, set on stands, with frit piled on top of the pieces. The drip lines are really dramatic. Initially I didn’t like them at all, and I’m still not sure they suit my intention for the pieces. But they do have the distinction of having a very different sort of surface – different from my usual work, and different from the usual ceramic surfaces. I had a lot of fun shooting this pair. The piece above is my final selection, but at the bottom I’ll put up a few more that sparked my imagination.

FCSI fired sometime-in-the-spring in Lillstreet’s soda kiln. I like the slumpiness of these pieces.

The quality of the line has been a subject of ongoing exploration. The combination of line and profile and the visual effect achieved. The range from cinched-in tension to loose slumpiness. (Which makes me think – until now, each piece has had one quality of line throughout. I should see what happens if I use a greater range in one piece.)

As these pieces were finished, I had made fifty pieces dealing with this idea.

After the break, discussion on the other shots that were contenders.

(more…)

The second post in the October woodfire saga, which began with loading and firing Gary the Groundhog. When I arrived in Wisconsin on November 3, Matt had already unbricked the kiln. We quickly got to the business at hand: photos, unloading and examining pots, and cleaning shelves.

Front of the kiln. 10 is down and 11 is soft on the bottom, and 9’s way down on top. Hot enough! We didn’t have quite as many pieces as we’d have liked, so everything got pushed back as far as possible, to keep the stack tight, though starting a little farther back in the kiln.

I don’t quite recall Matt’s comment, but it was something to the extent that the shelf was all boogered up. Everything you see was stuck to it. Luckily they are shelves that scrape easily, so cleanup was quick!

The first stack is out, and Matt squats in the firebox as I angle for shots of the next stack. The kiln floor is a ways above the firebox,which (mostly) kept embers off the kiln floor. Toward the end, we had an ember bed birmed from the bottom of the stoke door up to the kiln floor, three feet away, and the stoke door was sucking in all the air.

The second stack back. The kiln was loaded one piece at a time, wadding as we went. The arch limited the height of our top shelf, and a lot of creative stacking was employed. The great thing about loading with Matt was that we loaded some of each others’ work, and both made some creative decisions that benefited the other. It’s easy to see the possibilities for wad marks and flashing in pieces that I haven’t been staring at for weeks already.

Some of the methods employed: stacking pieces, wadding sideways, wadding things on top of things, “hanging” wads between pieces, loading pieces upside down, loading pieces right side up, using several small wads, one big wad, a circle-coil wad… the options go on. And every wad makes a wad mark and flashing, which means that decisions made in loading have a definite and profound impact on the marks on individual surfaces. The creative stacking at the top of the kiln here was because we’d used up all of Matt’s tall cups.

This is one of my wallforms. It was the one farthest forward in the kiln. The clay’s modified with custer feldspar, which made it a bit stickier for the ash. I love the range from yellow to red to blue, and birmed some ash up around it, hoping for some crusty purple. The wallforms went into the kiln green, though, so they pulled away from the ash.

And here’s the back of the kiln. Stacking flat pieces was an effective way of getting height. Next time, more flat pieces are in order, as are more tall ones. We softened cone 6 in back. This was Gary’s third firing; on the previous firing, they only dropped cone 1.

These are the pods and cups that came out of the kiln. My Malcolm’s shino crawled at the drop of a hat – I made the glaze around Easter, and think that’s related, since it didn’t crawl before. Evaporated soda ash? Or I just didn’t clean the cups – they spent months in a box – well enough before glazing. Who knows. I added glaze and am refiring a couple of them. The clay body of the pods came out great. I’m excited that the studio clays woodfire well.

These are the wallforms and bodyforms that came out of the kiln, stacked haphazardly in the afternoon sun. The unload weather was beautiful!

A favorite spot on the interior of one of my pieces. You’ll have to wait for more – but they’re shot!

We made pizzas for dinner. Mine had a stuffed crust and was in the style of Leach or Cardew – I forget which Jaime said.

Matt made more of a Voulkos composition. See the ricotta chunks? Half Acre lager, from a local Chicago brewery, was enjoyed. And ceramic documentary videos were watched. Fun was had by all.

Three kilns. Three consecutive days. Three different studios. Three words: pretty darn cool.

Day one: Indiana. Two-chamber catenary arch (arches?) wood kiln. An archery lesson. Learned passive dampers. Though I’m getting the idea on wood firing (this was my fifth wood firing), C. is a font of knowledge; next time I’ll go for the whole thing.

Day two: Chicago. 35-cubic-foot sprung arch downdraft soda kiln. Forced air is noisy.

Day three: Sugar Grove, IL. Big ol’ anagama. Will be loading again today and then participating in the firing, which finishes on Saturday.

Clay nonstop!