Last Days in Maine, Microcosm-Gazing

We are leaving Maine tomorrow. Today will be a day on the lake, then grilling dinner. Relaxing.

Away from my studio, other creative outlets just have to pop up. It's how I function.

Looking at birds, writing and drawing... always observing.

What kind of stone is this (below)? Click on it for a bigger image! (You do know you can always click on any blog photo for a bigger image, right??) I know those are quartz inclusions, but what's the rusty colored stone? Seriously. I want to know. I fell in love with it on a hike two days ago and lugged it the rest of the way in my daypack. Fortunately we were already going back downhill after a savage uphill hike. I think it weighed six pounds.

Crazy Quartz Rock

The quartz inclusion and crystals are testament to the turbulent, heated core of the earth. The heat of my electric kiln in the studio is much more serene and steady. I wish I had the capacity to fire my pots in a fluctuating, flickering, oxygen-sucking environment that makes randomly beautiful things happen, but "I got what I got."

So many textures and contrasts in birch and bush! Lines, curls, flaking, feathering, lights and darks, warms and cools. What an interesting visual world we live in.

Kayak Landing Spot

A little notch in the bank of the lake serves as the spot we pull in our kayaks, one by one. A soft, sandy spot, it is easy on the feet and, once I got deep into microcosm-gazing, I found the picture extremely engaging. Such is the effect of quiet, lazy days of observing and writing. Brain gets very attuned to nuance. It's like looking into a crystalline glaze.

Back home, I should get some edge back next week, lose this particular focus, and gain some further insights in clay- such is life. See you then.

Lake, Tree, Glazing

How is the mood of a lake expressed? The ruffles of the waves are colors. The dark of the underside, purple and slate, the push of the top, gray-blue and near-white. Laced in the movement, white and bright peach, elusive. Sitting at the picnic table in the yard of the house in Maine this morning, colored pencils flicking in time to the breeze ruffling the water, broad strokes and small, I try to capture the mood of the lake. Trying, that is, because I won't capture the lake actually, as it moves and moves; and as it moves, changes too quickly to pin down with the naked eye.

As night fell last evening it would perhaps have been simpler to draw. The darks are broader and fill the canvas better as sunset dwindles. But the lake is never really simple to capture, not while experiencing the moment. It takes a photograph to lock it down:

And what of the circle, circle, turn and circle of the water bugs as they skate rapidly over the reflected afternoon sky in the water? How do I catch that complex circular movement? Can I?

Yesterday on a hike, I took a photo of a tree trunk. Why? In the same way that I look at the lake and see the colors and textures of the water, I see lines and colors in the bark of a tree. The green in the trunk was unusual, and the lines went up and down instead of across. What's a potter to do? I immediately thought of wax resist effects in glazes. (To Be Explained at some later date.) This may or may not be applicable in some way to my glazing ideas (which always need work), but who knows? Inspiration. As my kids have known for years about their mom, the word is "texture."

Whatever "beautiful" means (and it varies), if the surfaces of my pieces invite hand and eye, I will be glad. I have lots of work ahead of me with glazes and surface treatments. Twenty-seven years a potter, I still have so much to learn.

Motto for life: Never stop noticing!

A Brief Hiatus on the Lake

Welcome

Self-Explanatory!

Shed, Kayaks & Canoe

Sometimes it is necessary to take a good break.

What Does "Trim a Pot" Mean?

You're at your potter's wheel. You make the bowls. (Or vases. Or plates. Or jars. Or most anything.) The clay is nice and responsive to your touch, and you succeed at making the form you intend. Still, the odds are good that you needed to leave some extra clay at the bottom of the piece (the "foot"). A little extra at the bottom helps you lift the piece off the wheel without distorting it. It gives the wet clay a sturdier base.

It does not look very nice, though. Hiding inside it is the true profile of the foot. These two bowls were thrown the day before I took the picture. They are firming up, but not dry. Call them "leather hard."

Notice they are not very graceful.

Now I put one back on the wheel, upside down and as exactly in the center as possible. I "trim away" the excess clay. The bowl turns and I move various sharp tools over the surface to refine the form, creating the finished foot that is longing to be revealed. I remove it from the wheel and put on the next bowl. When they are finished (though still raw clay, not having been heated in the kiln and not having been glazed with color), they look quite a bit different.

(Note: The clay color looks different because I photographed the trimmed bowls in much better light.)

The one on the right is the same bowl as the one on the right in the upper photo, the one on the left the same as the one above on the left. Quite a difference, isn't it?

When I "threw" the bowls, which is the term for making them on the spinning potter's wheel, I left a nice thick bottom, about 3/4", with the intention of making a raised foot. A foot like this, narrow and well defined, raises the bowl from the table surface, showing its graceful profile to advantage. A shorter, wider foot would give the bowl a more utilitarian look. It's all valid, all choices I have to make before I slap the clay down onto the wheel. I plan this sort of thing, in fact, while I'm weighing out and kneading up the amounts of clay I will be using that day.

So now you know what it means to "trim a pot!"

Made New Pots All Week

Nothing like a good week at the wheel.
Some rawware:

I had shown this vase on my FB pottery page before I paddled the sides or cut the four feet. Came out nice. I will probably use the sides as a flat canvas for glaze work.

As long as I was cutting feet, I kept doing it. (Again, you may have seen these in a photo on my FB pottery page, drying upside down, outside on the railing.) These are small, cute jars 4", 5", 5.5" and 7" tall. They are freely thrown for a nice loose vibe. I covered them with plastic because, if I get the chance before they are dry, I think they are asking for fat little lug handles.

Some bowls:

I also threw and trimmed a 20" round platter with a nice, beefy rim- maybe to be turned into a Seder plate, not sure. Ten lbs. of clay, biggest plate I've ever thrown. I don't know how to photograph a plate that big. It will be much more interesting once it's been glazed, anyway.

Studio reno is in progress. What a mess. But what promise.

Tulipieres Stage 3- Vases of Another Name

A satisfying morning putting black underglaze on the tulipieres and cutting through it with a tiny carving tool, aka stage 3 of the 4-step process.

Tulipiere 1, One Side

 And the other side of the same vase:

Tulipiere 1, Second Side

Then:

Tulipiere 2, One Side

Tulipiere 2, Second Side

Moving on:

Tulipiere 3, First Side

Tulipiere 3, Second Side

And one more vase:

Tulipiere 4, First Side

Tulipiere 4, Second Side

They will stay under plastic and dry slowly, to even out moisture loss and prevent stress cracks from forming.

Symposium's End: "'Bye for now"

Like the last day of senior year at college, the last moments at the clay symposium were hard. Too many goodbyes of new friends. How hard is it to leave people you just met? Am I being silly?
Here are Marita and Liz, and me.

Marita, Mimi and Liz (left to right)

We are all three wearing necklaces by Marita. It's a gesture of friendship from a lovely lady to the two of us, and to others here, as well. We each chose our pendant the second morning, and yesterday at breakfast, Marita presented them, strung and with her tag: Earth2Ware by Marita Early. Liz and I were delighted to be recipients. We were also delighted to find each other to sit with at meals. It is a joyful thing to meet people like this, and I am hereby counting a blessing. I hope to see them back here next year, but I also hope to exchange thoughts and photos over the course of the year with them.

Potters in small studios spend a lot of time alone, and when we make friends with other potters, they don't usually live next door. They are, in fact, hard to find. Well, voila- two here, and numerous more to talk to and sit beside.

I would never have met these wonderful women, or the other friendly potters, sculptors and poets with whom I have had such good conversations, had I not come to Virginia for these four days. 

As for all that I've seen and listened to at the symposium, my notebook is not just full of notes on the thoughts, techniques and quotes from the presenting clay artists, it also contains notations of books I want to read, improvements I want to make to my kiln, and even a design change to the layout plan for the new shelves I want to build in The Gallery Downstairs. And all the pottery I have looked at and touched (dude, it was an informal exhibition, wasn't it? And no cameras..?) have given me a deepened discontent with my glazes, that desire to add to the palette and to experiment with layering colors and varying the textures. 

More than anything, my personal motivations and aesthetic considerations have had a bop on the head this week. I see some gravitational shift in my work ahead.

So here's to Liz and Marita, Hollins University, Donna Polseno (artist, teacher and symposium coordinator) and all the people who made this symposium so good. Or as Mom used to say at the end of each phone conversation, "Bye for now."

Symposium: Women Working with Clay, Day 3

I am overwhelmed by this day. Too much to assimilate means too much to talk about. Photos, instead.

Donna Polseno's thrown & altered covered pot

Another of Donna's...

Ellen Shankin's covered jar- I loved seeing this made in all its stages.

Seeing Ellen add and form this handle was actually a highlight of my day.

Mary Barringer's Bowl (love this shot of it)

Lisa Clague, adding a drape of slip-covered fabric to her sculpture.

Tip Toland's sculpture grew and changed- amazing to watch.

But another highlight of my day was when my new friend Marita Early gave me a salt-fired pendant she'd made, strung on a cord. I was touched and delighted to wear it.

Symposium: Women Working with Clay, Day 2

Today was FULL.

First thing was introductions. We all stood in turn and said our names and something about ourselves. We are only 44 attendees, so this was easy. It's always fun to meet other potters.

After that, our five presenters demonstrated technique. They were in two studios, and we could come and go as we wanted to see whomever in either room. They did the first part today in the morning, and the second part after lunch.

Lisa Clague

Lisa Clague built the first part of her sculpture from big, flattened coils of clay. As she builds the piece she draws on it, butters the surface with slip in places, and sometimes (see the small sculpture at her elbow) incorporates metal objects. She will add the head tomorrow. I think it will surprise you.

Tip Toland

Tip Toland built much of the head and shoulders of a figure. She will continue tomorrow, too. Along the way she explained proportion and structure of the human head. She was so funny and charming, it will be a contrast to see the finished piece, which will tend, she told us, toward melancholia. She added that her sculpture tends toward the dark side. If you find her work online, you will know what she means.

Ellen Shankin

In the second studio, Ellen Shankin threw pots. Throwing is the technique closest to my heart, which I use most. but every potter has his or her own influences and style, and it is really a blast to see Ellen's. Here are some of the Phase 1 pots, to be assembled or altered or added to tomorrow in Phase 2:

In the same studio as Ellen Shankin, Mary Barringer worked on slab pieces. 

Mary Barringer

Mary doesn't use much color, but builds up lots of surface intensity with texture and thin washes of glaze. Her forms are simple and rely a great deal on individual nuance to give them strength. Throughout her presentation, she tried at length to talk about her objects and their meanings. It is difficult to express the ideas within objects. As editor of Studio Potter, she is always thinking through ideas that frame the "language of clay." I found it challenging to assimilate some of her ideas. I am not used to thinking in this way.

Donna Polseno

While Ellen and Mary were two in this session in the first part of the day, Donna Polseno joined them after lunch to make three presenters in this studio. Donna teaches at Hollins University, and organized this symposium. She slipcasts her forms (from original pieces she makes herself) to obtain the right shapes, then adds to the cast pieces with additional parts. These lively forms are sometimes vessel, sometimes form, and sometimes a hybrid. 

After this, the whole group had a writing session where we wrote an ode to something. Mine was to my studio, and boy, does it need revising.  I missed most of this, as it happens, because I was so tired from all the information I was absorbing that I slipped out to my room and took a brief nap.

In the evening, after dinner, the presenters gave a slide show with photos of their work. It was very telling to hear influences that formed phases of their potting lives. I was heartened by something Ellen Shankin said, in reference to the shows of a group of potters in Virginia, Sixteen Hands, of which she is part. She said, "We were all 25 years into this before we tried to get people to find us." 

Hmm. I started my studio in 1987. It's a happy quarter century in clay for me. Who knows where next year will find my work?

Symposium: Women Working with Clay, Day 1

What is more convivial than a meeting of minds to discuss a topic we are all passionate about? There is no point in being shy and reserved. So I'm yawping my potterly head off to folks from all over the place, and they are doing just the same with me. We are at Hollins University, in Roanoke, Virginia, at a Women Working with Clay symposium. Just to enrich the atmosphere still more, we coincide with a poets symposium. The conversations have been so good. But I will save discussions with the poets perhaps for another day, or another blog.

I took some pictures at the end of the day, of pots by a couple of the people who will discuss and demonstrate techniques tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday. The old conundrum exists. How am I to take even adequate photos (2-D) of these 3-D items? They are never as good in photos as they are in person. But here are a few that I loved, anyhow.

I walked into the exhibition room and fell weirdly in love at first sight with this wonderful pagoda-ish covered jar by Ellen Shankin. She kind of blew me away in general with her work.

(Pardon the awkward shadow. I couldn't take the time and space to set up the shoot.)

Then there were these by Donna Polseno:

They are two of the numerous beauties she has there. Donna teaches at Hollins, and coordinated the symposium.

More tomorrow!

Tulipieres, Part II

I did mention that the tulipieres had only gone through one step in the creative process, though you may have thought you "got the picture." 

To quote Yogi Berra, “It ain’t over till it’s over.”  So…it ain’t over. Welcome to stage 2.

Tulipiere 1, now with “tulip spouts” attached, two views:

tulipiere 1, stage 2, side view

tulipiere 1, stage 2, front view

 Tulipiere 1 started with two rim openings, and now has four places to put flowers. Tulipiere 2 started with three openings, which have now grown to seven:

tulipiere 2, stage 2, side view

They are changing from thrown pots into near-sculptural forms.

tulipiere 3, stage 2

Some of you commented on tulipiere 4, below, liking it as it was. I wonder what your impression is now.

tulipiere 4, stage 2, front view

And look how tulipiere 4 changes when viewed from the side:

tulipiere 4, stage 2, side view

Here they all are in a group. Tulipieres, stage 2. What do they suggest to you? They look like sea forms to me, or..?

And that is the end of stage 2. 

Next, stage 3, which will bring texture and color to the surfaces. Tightly covered, these will wait to go to stage 3 till I get back from the clay symposium I’m attending next week.

Late next week, thoughts and photos from the clay symposium! And then, when I get back into the studio the week after, stay tuned for photos of these tulipieres, stage 3.

Tulipieres, Status Symbols of the 17th Century

 

Tulips came to Holland from Asia. A tulip bulb cost at least as much as your ox, when this beautiful flower was new and novel. And if you were Someone, you needed to upstage your peers by exhibiting your incredibly unusual and extremely expensive prize in an appropriately over-the-top container.

You put it with its fellow tulips (because you were wealthy enough to have enough for a bouquet) in a fancy-shmancy vase made just for them.

Your vase would probably have had several levels, like a layer cake, each layer with holes, tubes or spouts in which to insert the tulip stems. Since your tulips were still alive and still bending towards the light source even after being cut, they might keep on bending till they keeled right over. So you constrained the stem to the holes or narrow tubes in your special vase, so that they would stay upright. 

My take on tulipieres began with vases, thrown on the wheel (2600 grams of clay each), altered by being squashed inward a bit, with the rims crimped into two, then three, then four openings. I have a feeling they may get more openings as I make more tulipieres…

Phase one. Just thrown. Waiting to firm up a bit before I start adding appendages to them.

first tulipiere, thrown round then pushed inward, with 2 rim openings

2nd tulipiere, flared, flattened a bit, with 3 openings

3rd tulipiere, flared shape, flattened form, with 4 rim openings

Remember, this is just the interesting first part of the process.

Tomorrow: the tulipiere shapes get evened out, and begin to sport spouts.

Head-to-Toe, a Sales Profile: Susan James

  
     When I do a show, it’s fun and very informative to meet other artists and crafters. At the JFS show May 6^th, I met Susan James, who was showing and selling her beaded jewelry.

     I learned that Susan’s business actually encompasses two crafts. You can check out her jewelry and also the hats and capes that she crochets, at www.design-site.net/headtotoe.

     I have a hard enough time pulling together one category of handmade objects. I interviewed Susan for this blog to find out how and why she works with two.

     Susan said, “I started selling original design jewelry at the Aspen Saturday Market in 2001. It's a long selling season--from mid-June to mid-October.” 

     She reflected on the seasonal aspect of her sales. “When the weather got cool in September -- winter comes early to the Rockies -- I noticed the customers were too bundled up or chilly to try on jewelry, so my sales dropped."

     "I needed a fashion accessory product that could take me through the fall selling season in Aspen. Taught as a girl by my grandmother to crochet, my primary experience had been making afghan blankets for family and friends, and I hadn't crocheted in years. I started experimenting with shaping hats, and after pulling out many errant rows of crochet, I developed a line of hats for adults and children.” (Note: She also does capes. These are two of her customers:)

     Impressed by Susan’s perseverance, I wondered how she could make the hats pay off. I realized by her answer that, at least to a certain degree, she thinks through who she is selling to, before she even creates her inventory. She bases her analysis partly on prior sales, but also on certain external factors.

     “Over the years, three things changed my hat-selling business. The first was global warming. In recent seasons, Aspen stays hot until the middle of October. So I was selling winter hats in hot weather for four months! The second was that certain styles sold way better than others. And the third was the Great Recession, which caused shoppers who used to buy colorful caps for every kid in the family and hats for all the adults to pull back their purchases to perhaps one token hat as a souvenir.”

     So how did Susan adapt to meet these challenges?

     “This winter," she told me, "I designed a new cotton fedora, which was instantly popular, and works well in warm weather climates all year round. And I narrowed the collection to include only the few top-selling styles. The warmest designs I only sell at a store in Aspen during winter season. The cotton hats, flower headbands, and brimmed winter hats I sell at my booth at farmers markets year-round.”

    She added, “My biggest problem going forward is that I've been crocheting for 6-8 hours a day for so many years, that I've overused the muscle and nerve paths in my neck and shoulders, so now I must limit my crochet to as few hours a week as possible, and sometimes avoid it entirely. Thankfully, my jewelry design business has been growing, so the hat business is supplementary and not primary at this point.”

     As a potter, it was interesting for me to note this challenge, to which I could relate. It is sometimes hard to live with the beating on the muscles, joints and neural pathways, that comes from repetitive motion. I relate to it when my wrists and lower back ache after working too long at the potter’s wheel. If the problem gets bad, it requires that the crafter modify technique, or adjust to making a less body-stressing product, like Susan did.

     Making craft pay is quite a challenge. Thanks, Susan, and hats off to you for sharing your experience.

A Single Fruit in a Fruit-Sized Bowl

Sometimes you want an orange. Or an apple. Or a pear. And you want to cut it up and put it into just the right bowl.

Hello, bowl.

You are perfect for one pear today.

Tomorrow I will use you to beat up a couple of eggs for an omelet.

Later, you are just the right size for the last bit of stir-fry.

Last bit of stir fry> into the bowl> into the microwave>Voila!

Love these. I have a quartet of them in my kitchen cabinet.

Even I am surprised at how often one of these is the go-to bowl.

They were each made from a slab of clay, paddled into shape with a wooden tool.

I love how none is the same as the others, but they stack up so nicely.

I don't have these on my website, but they are made to order for $15 each.

Have you enjoyed a handmade, one-of-a-kind, just-right-for-one-fruit bowl today? Inquiring potters want to know.

The Fabric of Challenges

Here is one face of behind the scenes. It is called SEO (Search Engine Optimization). I am Optimizing my website for Search Engines to find me. Somewhere inside my head I know this isn't so difficult, but Cheese Louise, I don't get it yet. The tumblers have yet to align in my head to unclick this lock. This is one of those smack-my-head things: won't you step into my brain, Yoast? But Yoast refrains.

But I persist. At some point soon, with a little speck more explication from an expert, I will get to that "Oh!" realization and evolve from there. I say this with confidence even though I am not feeling it yet. I hope to draw actuality with positivity...and further effort.

Meanwhile, say hello to the awning of the future. So far it is just a pile of nice fabric:

But soon it will be an awning on the wall that faces you as you come down the steps to the gallery downstairs. There is a wall right in front of you. Since I have no real shop window (because hey, we're inside my house), I am creating the illusion of one on that wall. There will be a "window" in front of you, a big, attractive framed grid of wood resembling a window (without glass) that will showcase various pieces of pottery. Above it will be my awning, with a flap on the front that will read The Gallery Downstairs in black letters. There will be a spotlight behind the awning flap shining on the art.

The same fabric will also be used to upholster a bench I found in an interesting store in Garwood, NJ, called Artifacts. They take old furniture and refurbish it. It isn't going to cost me a fortune, and non-browsing friends of browsing people can sit on this nice upholstered bench while they wait, and read back issues of Pottery Making Illustrated.

Meanwhile, the pots broken by accident after the last show (dang) are deleted from my website, SOLD has gone up on photos of those that sold, and I am puzzling (through a mental block) over that Search Engine Optimization. This blog post is a digression from what I really should be doing! So I am going to sign off and get my Thinking Cap from the virtual hatrack, and go do what I should be doing.

Give me a 3-D challenge over this webby stuff any day. But it is all necessary to run my studio and gallery.

Hey, thanks for reading. Leave a comment below if you have one! 

Sketching, [Not So] Randomly

 

I just had an eye-opening tutorial, to learn about applying good ol’ Search Engine Optimization* to my website. More on SEO as I get more proficient. This has to be a serious priority for anyone with a website, so that it will show up in online searches. (*I am making place for an SEO hat on my metaphorical hatstand.)

Also, an electrician’s been in to the future gallery (finally!) to assess the work needed for radically improved lighting, and will give me an estimate Monday(ish). Electrical work comes before any other work.  I am going to be the general contractor*. (*Contractor hat, comin’ up.)

So instead of working with clay, being fairly distracted lately, I’ve been taking up pad, pencil and a kneaded eraser (love those) and I'm at least sketching (what else?) pots.

Started drawing spirals, which turned into pearlike shapes. I’ve built something like these out of coils before. But how would they be to make on the wheel and alter, instead? Would make them strictly decorative, and probably glazed simple white.

Also, I incorporated nails into low-fire earthenware years ago (as eye stalks for little monster pots, with wiggle eyes glued on the ends later). How would metal brads be for pear stems, at higher temperature firings like I do now? And could I also cut holes into the upper parts of the pearlike objects and make them into (no longer just decorative) functional flower holders?

Started drawing circles, realized I was still thinking Song Dynasty (see back a few posts), and evolved quickly back to that covered jar shape. It recurs, which means I’d better do this one (out of the new porcelain) just to get it outside my head and see how it goes. Would be wonderful with shellac resist designs.

Something else I’ve had in mind for a long time (see lower left of sketch): pots reminiscent of nests. This is a good sort of pot to throw thickish and carve. Inside would be very, very smooth and strongly or brightly colored, or bright clean white, with the outside stained sheer, matte, twiglike brown. All sizes. Really want to do this. These would be interesting to touch and look at, functional, and could attract birds…OK, not really on that last thing.

Another thing I’ve been thinking of: the sort of lobed pot (lower right of sketch) with a small, shot-glass like shape sort of set in as a rim.  I see this with sheer, light glaze of one color or other. Could be beautiful, or weird, or both.

Still itching to carve pots, so sketched the first two here:

The second from left has my typical leaf carving and the one on the far left has a raised band for carving the life circle and pumpkinlike “lobes.” The second from the right? Just a simple cylinder for a change, with possible underglaze brushwork and carving, maybe in the old Saturday Evening Girls style… And I’m not sure what the heck the pot on the right is, a single covered jar like a pot-within-a-pot; not liking. (Interesting to note that the new camera curved the image in at the edges like it was a wide angle shot. Have to learn the new camera settings better.)

Thinking (above ^) cylindrically some more…but I feel that these look like the light, colorful earthenware sort of pottery you can buy at Home Goods. Heck, my ideas are not all going to be useful ones- sometimes they’re just bad sketches. But all this drawing got me thinking about the simple cylinder shape with minor variations- it needs to feel handmade, or at least as if its surface matters beyond serving as a canvas for assembly line design. I think the cylinder is more challenging to decorate because it is such a clean, blank form that is open to imaginative handling or its opposite, minimal interference. Cylinders are a good exercise for any potter, beginner to expert. They give you room to roam.

Well, back to Search Engine Optimization…so anyone can go to my website and find what s/he is looking for.

Bottle with a Broken Lip

 Stoneware Bottle with Broken Lip

Out of the hot Maine July noon

In a listing antiques barn,

Among the kitsch and jetsam,

This bottle with no handles grabbed me-

With no raised foot, tripped me up.

In the white sun a wince in the height of day

Cool concrete and wood lured my son and me in

Beneath the Picker’s Palace sign-

His baseball cap shading his tumble-haired head

His search focused tight on musical things, and games-

When cheek by jowl to scalloped milk glass

And faded beige satin pincushions

The chipped gray gleam of its little mouth in the gloom

Blew me a kiss. I swear.

I heard the phantom snap of ancient pine ash melting.

We climbed a flight of metal steps

Saw chairs and chests and Esso signs

And came back down with my sturdy boy clutching

A harmonica still in its box, and a dinged-up iron putter

But my hands empty longed for the rich brown bottle.

A freckle of stony bits complicated its skin

Stippled with fly-ash, unsigned, alone, out of place,

The mark of a twisted cutoff wire beneath its narrow bottom,

Its belly swelled with old sweet fire…

I bought it. What was the tiny price? Some paper tag long gone now.

copyright Mimi Stadler 2012

Improved Show Space

This is how I rearranged my space the day after the show, having realized it was too crowded.

Scroll down and compare to the photo two posts ago, when I first set up the show. Lots more room to look at individual pieces!

With a leaf applique fabric piece above (not sure of artist's name but a nice piece of art), and Dario Scholis's paintings at the left, it was a colorful space.

More changes for next time: more poetic (less prosaic) pieces (sorry, no mugs), black tablecloth, banner with my studio's name.

(photo by Susan James)

After the Show: More About the Business of Craft!

The art show at Evalyn Dunn’s Gallery in Westfield, NJ, was Sunday. How was the show, you ask? (Remember that question, and how difficult I find it to reply?)  Short answer: it was a good show, but not because I made so much money. It was a particularly good show because of the intangibles, which are what I learned while interacting, questioning and observing.

I did a sort of post-mortem after a show. What sold? What did not draw interest at all? Did a particular texture or color turn the people on or off? What price point sold better than others? Was the one-of-a-kind work more interesting? Were people willing to spend on a unique piece? Did they want Judaica? Serving pieces? Decorative ware? Did I get names and addresses (email and snail) to add to my mailing list?

Yesterday, I went back to the gallery to help out for a couple of hours. My work is still there for the duration of this week. Susan James, a jeweler who had been in the show, was also helping out. Since the gallery is not usually open Mondays, few customers showed up, and I took the opportunity to rearrange my display. Susan makes her living from her craft all year round, mostly at outdoor shows. She has a sense of what makes a good display. She and Jacie Civins, the owner of the gallery, gave me great feedback, very helpful for my show post-mortem.

By the end of our discussion, I had packed up at least a quarter of the items I had on display. The table and shelves looked better. It now had few multiples of anything. I had shifted groupings by color, instead of by type of object. Jacie pointed to a large vase. “When did that get there?” she asked me. It had been there all along. It was just highlighted now with better placement.

So. "How was the show?"

1)  Because each piece has its own carving or a plate fitted especially to suit it, I believed I make one of a kind work. But it didn't necessarily look like it at the show. Because my carved goblets, for example, were of similar size to one another and stood in a row on one shelf, regardless of differences in their carved decoration, if you didn't look closely, you would have assumed they were all alike. This, Susan told me, is not "special." Unless he or she really wants a pair, or a set, a buyer will usually prefer to have "the only one like it" at a show like this. The remedy is to place objects separately, not as a group of similars, and limit their number- otherwise you get a herd effect. A herd effect can be gorgeous; think of a herd of horses running- but conversely, can also can lower the effective beauty of an individual thing.

2) Price should not reflect only the time, effort and cost expended to make the object. That should just be the floor when setting the $$ amount. Charge for the specialness of the piece. If necessary, get a knowledgeable friend or colleague to help. If you are like me, knowing too much about the making process clouds your objectivity.

3) Each item should be what I want to make. There is a buyer somewhere for every single handmade thing, if made well.  It's not much use planning too rigidly what to make. Jacie and Susan chose to admire pieces that were quite different from one another's. Susan loved a simple, easy to make bowl with a subtle stony glaze, that was particularly graceful. Jacie liked two carved and complexly colored vase forms.

4) Display: Less Really Is More. Clear up a little. If planning to show 8 teacups and saucers that are the same, make them different colors from one another. Or show only one to three at a time, not ten.

5) Yes, this should be obvious, though it wasn't to me-- Color contrast is extremely important. Ware that is green should not be on a green cloth. Put it on a black cloth. And make more of the ware some other color. Not everyone likes green.

6) Again- color! Develop a good palette for more color! More, more, more color! People have a visceral reaction to red. Or blue. Or pure white. Or variegated golden brown.

7) People actually want to pay more sometimes. If the price is too low, it will seem apparent that as an artist, I do not especially value the objects I  make, and neither should the shoppers. Usually, unless it's a mug or a cereal bowl, (and even sometimes then,) a customer has no set of criteria to assess the value of a piece of handmade pottery, except to look at the price tag. If someone wants to give a gift, and the bowl they are looking at is $22, they assume it would be perceived by the recipient as a cheapie gift, and they won't buy it. This is faulty thinking, but common. It does no good to explain that the recipient would not know what the giver had paid. The gift giver will buy a bowl that cost the potter next door just as little to make as your bowl did, but they will assume it is a “better” bowl, because it is marked $42.

Think of it this way. If the bowl is beautiful, and I still price it according to the time it took to make and the cost of materials. I am totally ignoring the intangible something that makes a piece special. So remember- a buyer who "gets" that certain "something" in the work will pay real money for it.

Well, it’s been a busy and informative couple of days. As ever, onward and upward

Pre-Show Photo

I set up the show today. (Click on the picture for a much larger view.) I have only a 6' space, which I tried to maximize with my show stands. If you can't build from side to side, you build upward.

I just need to make a little sign saying Mimi Stadler Pottery, to put on the small blank wood area in the middle-ish, and the table is done. There are more pots under the table in boxes to replenish the booth as (here's hoping) empty spaces appear. Now I'm ready to just have fun.