@Regrann from @floriangadsby - A pile of medium bowls, around half of all I’ve fired in my last four kiln loads. Dark and light greens with whites opaque and glassy grey. All the pots are now fired and line the studio walls, stacked on shelves in shadowy corners what did take up sixteen shelves when green or glazed only takes up four now. Tableware that stacks well is a sign of a good maker, plates being the prime example. It isn’t only that they fit together, the negative spaces in-between the pots needs to replicate too. Foot-rings of turned plates need to slot into the well of that below. My ceramics teacher in Ireland, the systematic master Gus Mabelson used to tell us that if you want to test a potters ability, ask them to throw and turn ten dinner plates and see how well they stack. Not flat bottomed hump moulded pieces, but plates with a proper foot—it’s bloody hard.
These stack okay, these thin bowls tend to warp, undulating slightly during the firings, it’s a quality I really like and of course they aren’t all effected. As the pots aren’t fired on waddings, the bare clay of the feet can stick to the kiln shelves because tiny bleeds of iron flux and fuse the two. It can just be a speck but as the pots twist and unwind as they’re fired it can cause pots to deform. While the character of my work is clean and precise you might think this would irritate me, but slowly the effects left by the kiln are becoming more desirable. Iron bursts, pink flashes from residual copper on kiln furniture and warped bowls are among some of my favourite. They’re only subtle changes and don’t always happen, but when they do the pot is transformed, given a face and a focal point. My work tends to have surfaces that are mostly uniform, bathed in simple coats of white or green, these flaws disrupt that. - #regrann