The Poetry Of Pottery
Pottery is a tricky subject, there are lots of ways and techniques to making pottery and a lot has been written about it. One technique I researched was primitive throwing. To define something as primitive it must reflect a vessel of the past. Some examples are Korean Silla pedestal bowls, Japanese medieval storage jars, North American Mimbres painted bowls and English earthenware pitchers of the Middle Ages. These all share in the same aspect, purpose over aesthetic.
In this current era many potters, perhaps due to the advancement of society and the availability of high quality tools, have become more than talented at throwing vessels. The gap between function and aesthetic has long been bridged. If you intend to sell pottery it's imperative that the pottery be balanced and that all the clay be utilized properly. Similarly, as my throwing abilities have progressed, my standards for pottery I create have risen. No joke, when I sit down at a wheel to throw a piece I don’t think of what the piece is going to turn out to be. I meditate for a little bit and envision the awe many pieces I’ve encountered in the Crafts room have invoked in me. I try to harness this inspiration and put it into the piece I’m throwing with the hopes it will turn out to be as balanced and light as some of the pieces I’ve encountered during my potting career.
I think those of us who have the opportunity to throw pottery at the high school are really fortunate. The access to such a nice setup and to be surrounded by really good pottery everywhere on the island is a blessing. Not to mention, Coogan teaching and preaching fundamentals and delivering all the encouragement one could need. His advice to never give up, no matter how bad the last piece you just made was has helped me to understand what it takes to be an accomplished potter.
I like to think of it as a progression, though not entirely accurate. You start off making some primitive ass pottery. It’s heavy, it’s misshapen, it ain’t nothing to go running home about, however, the progression can turn around quickly. If you throw at least one pot a day for a week or two, you will probably make a keeper. The quality of pottery I keep has changed dramatically from when I first started throwing, and has evolved as my style has changed and I’ve become more discerning about my expectations.
“Handmade pottery can mean different things to different people, and these contemporary potters all bring something insightful to the table.” as artist Kenyon Hansen suggests. He also states, “I strive to create pottery that is both considered and balanced, containing a healthy dose of spirit and care.” I agree with this 100 percent. This is the exact way I think about my pottery. 9 times out of 10 a piece will be slightly lopsided and not perfect, but I like it that way. It makes the symmetrical pieces seem even more perfect.
I especially enjoyed this article because he delved into his techniques and gave a step by step on how to make a thermos in which he was working on perfecting. This definitely gave me some confidence and more perseverance to trash bad pieces and really focus on making the best pottery I could make. It also helped me focus more on my question of exploring the difference between the two different forms of creation I enjoy most, pottery and poetry.
Pottery to me is poetry of the body; poetry is the pottery of the mind. There's something so fluid and poetic about making a vessel with your hands. It’s one of the most entrancing activities I’ve been involved in. I find poetry as pottery of the mind for this reason. The words and sentences are like clay; you use your mind to shape words into thoughts and format them in an eloquent way that flows. Similarly, you shape clay with your hands, in a fashion intended to be as continuous as a river.
My final influence was one telling of a special history about the formation of pottery, more specifically pottery created by African American slave potters. This history involves one potter in particular, Dave, who would incise verses into his pieces in what historians believe was a form of protest. Dave was one of 8 slaves owned by Abner Landrum, a Scotsman who migrated to Edgefield, South Carolina. Unlike most slave owners, Landrum educated his slaves and used them as assets to his various interests such as his two papers, The South Carolina Republican and The Edgefield Hive, and his pottery and brickwork projects. I found this information extremely interesting, and was inspired to attempt writing some poems on my pottery.
At first I thought it was going to be a piece of cake, but unfortunately learned that not to be true. It is a very painstaking process, especially with a long poem. Out of the four I tried to inscribe, I poked through three and and the other one came out funky.
Another reason I enjoyed this article was the content. Though we can’t be sure exactly how Landrum treated his slaves, this article made it feel like he was progressive for the time period and presented those mistreated and exploited with a better living than others in similar situations might have experienced. Not to be insensitive and blunt, but being endowed to a life of making pottery and pressing newspapers sounds a lot better than being overworked in the fields.
Before I began this project, I was merely shining a flashlight into a dark room. A crappy flashlight that barely reached the back wall of a 20 by 20 room full of two different creativities. I’ve learned something new about myself and the way my creativity ebbs and flows every day. Likewise, it has required a plethora of days and the continued ability for me to experiment with my mind and wheel to come to these realizations. An epiphany of sorts, alerting me too the two different energies alive in my mind. The writing and school work type of focus (in the case of writing poetry, a fluid, attentive, spontaneous focus) and the pottery focus. One which I can only compare to a focus necessary when playing sports. The frame of mind where the only thing on your mind is the activity that you are partaking in at the moment, a disconnect from the outside world and a journey into the world of your thoughts and instincts. They are similar in the sense that to be successful at either you must have a clear mind, you should only be focusing on the task at hand. I suppose this is applicable to anything we do, even so, it is completely imperative when throwing pottery or composing writing to have a clear attentive mind.
Writing, a practice utilizing mental fluidity of thought as well as extreme focus; a focus I’m not sure how to describe other than as a disconnect from the outerworld. The only connections being your eyes on the screen and fingers on the keyboard. Here occurs the formulation of sentences. With poems, I try to create a rhythm with the rhymes and complement them by emphasizing certain sounds. For me, writing a poem is either hit or miss. Some days, I have the mental lucidity to arrange words in a rhythmic manner. Others days I feel like a blind man trying to translate a document from Latin to English. Long story short, writer's block sucks.
When I throw pottery I like to put on a reggae playlist I created and get lost in the rotation of the wheel. I find I throw my best work when I’m most relaxed and don’t have an idea for a piece in mind. Usually when I try to make a certain thing I either ruin it or it doesn’t come out how I envisioned it. Even though it's kind of annoying when I’m trying to throw a particular piece or a piece someone requests, it’s exciting not knowing what the clay will become until you're done. It’s somewhat refreshing too, when all you're doing is focusing on your pulls and then all of the sudden you have this beautiful bowl or vase that you weren’t necessarily trying to create. I must have ruined 30 or more pieces putting final touches on them, or trying to make a funky type of pottery that I had never seen before. If only my hands weren't covered in clay, I could have photographed the lunacy.
All and all, my journey of pottery followed a path I was accustomed too. One of triumph followed immediately by failure and disappointment; but that's just the way the cookie crumbles when you're dealing with wet clay. It’s really hard not to get absolutely pissed and to keep throwing when you ruin a piece you took a liking too. Ruining pieces is my least favorite part about throwing. You get an empty feeling in your stomach, on that makes you want to fight someone. Sometimes I get so mad that I promise myself I’ll never throw again. It’s even worse when someone else breaks your piece. You try not to be mad and usually act like you aren’t and don’t care but I think that makes it fester inside and makes the pain worse.
I found out some cool stuff about how my mind works and the limit to my creativity. For example, for reasons unknown, I cannot throw pottery after I’ve exerted my mental creativity trying to write poetry. Vise versa, I find it extremely hard to write poetry after I've thrown pottery. If I had to guess I would attribute it to the two different focuses which are required by both. Though they are similar in many respects, some differences set them apart in a way that made me incapable of doing both in one day. Another part of it could be the willingness to give up when the going got tough because I had already completed some work for my project for the day.
Through my project I didn’t necessarily focus on creating shapes similar to those of primitive pottery, but I did create vessels with a purpose. All of my pieces are either bowls vases or mugs and are intended to be used as such. This relates to primitive pottery as everything they threw was for a reason, it was thrown out of necessity. The necessity is another part that relates to this project. Yes I elected to do this, and yes I like to throw, but nevertheless I am required, in order to pass this project, to throw pieces.
I was really inspired by Kenyon Hansen and his quest to make the perfect thermos. He found something that he really enjoyed making and set out to master it’s production. For me, there’s nothing better than making a quality bowl, big bowl, small bowl, doesn’t matter. I simply love the process of throwing and trimming bowls. I also love how no two bowls are the same. It’s relatively easy to create mugs that are similar but for me making bowls that share characteristics is somewhat impossible. This intrigued me. So I set out to throw two bowls that looked identical, and what I came out with were a bunch of bowls that looked completely different from each other. Ain’t nothing wrong with that though, I still got me some bowls.
The information I read about Pre-Civil war slave potters was extremely interesting to me. Though it didn’t play a huge role in changing and expanding my project it gave me an interesting idea for a technique to experiment with my pottery. It was a breath of fresh air to learn about how pottery was influenced by African-American slaves and provided an outlet for a powerful voice. I look at my pottery and poetry in a similar way. I create to allow my internal thoughts and expressions to unfold as well as the words to accompany my pieces. It was inspiring to see the ways in which one of the slave potters wrote poetry and inscribed some of his pieces with the poems he wrote. I also appreciate the way doing this project has allowed me to experiment with creativity and expression.
In conclusion, this project has allowed me to experiment with my hands and words. Without this time I wouldn’t have been able to realize in depth the process that takes place mentally when throwing or creating poems. I had an awesome time coming to epiphanies and exploring the expanses of my mind while attempting to corral creative energy.
Pottery is a tricky subject, there are lots of ways and techniques to making pottery and a lot has been written about it. One technique I researched was primitive throwing. To define something as primitive it must reflect a vessel of the past. Some examples are Korean Silla pedestal bowls, Japanese medieval storage jars, North American Mimbres painted bowls and English earthenware pitchers of the Middle Ages. These all share in the same aspect, purpose over aesthetic.
In this current era many potters, perhaps due to the advancement of society and the availability of high quality tools, have become more than talented at throwing vessels. The gap between function and aesthetic has long been bridged. If you intend to sell pottery it's imperative that the pottery be balanced and that all the clay be utilized properly. Similarly, as my throwing abilities have progressed, my standards for pottery I create have risen. No joke, when I sit down at a wheel to throw a piece I don’t think of what the piece is going to turn out to be. I meditate for a little bit and envision the awe many pieces I’ve encountered in the Crafts room have invoked in me. I try to harness this inspiration and put it into the piece I’m throwing with the hopes it will turn out to be as balanced and light as some of the pieces I’ve encountered during my potting career.
I think those of us who have the opportunity to throw pottery at the high school are really fortunate. The access to such a nice setup and to be surrounded by really good pottery everywhere on the island is a blessing. Not to mention, Coogan teaching and preaching fundamentals and delivering all the encouragement one could need. His advice to never give up, no matter how bad the last piece you just made was has helped me to understand what it takes to be an accomplished potter.
I like to think of it as a progression, though not entirely accurate. You start off making some primitive ass pottery. It’s heavy, it’s misshapen, it ain’t nothing to go running home about, however, the progression can turn around quickly. If you throw at least one pot a day for a week or two, you will probably make a keeper. The quality of pottery I keep has changed dramatically from when I first started throwing, and has evolved as my style has changed and I’ve become more discerning about my expectations.
“Handmade pottery can mean different things to different people, and these contemporary potters all bring something insightful to the table.” as artist Kenyon Hansen suggests. He also states, “I strive to create pottery that is both considered and balanced, containing a healthy dose of spirit and care.” I agree with this 100 percent. This is the exact way I think about my pottery. 9 times out of 10 a piece will be slightly lopsided and not perfect, but I like it that way. It makes the symmetrical pieces seem even more perfect.
I especially enjoyed this article because he delved into his techniques and gave a step by step on how to make a thermos in which he was working on perfecting. This definitely gave me some confidence and more perseverance to trash bad pieces and really focus on making the best pottery I could make. It also helped me focus more on my question of exploring the difference between the two different forms of creation I enjoy most, pottery and poetry.
Pottery to me is poetry of the body; poetry is the pottery of the mind. There's something so fluid and poetic about making a vessel with your hands. It’s one of the most entrancing activities I’ve been involved in. I find poetry as pottery of the mind for this reason. The words and sentences are like clay; you use your mind to shape words into thoughts and format them in an eloquent way that flows. Similarly, you shape clay with your hands, in a fashion intended to be as continuous as a river.
My final influence was one telling of a special history about the formation of pottery, more specifically pottery created by African American slave potters. This history involves one potter in particular, Dave, who would incise verses into his pieces in what historians believe was a form of protest. Dave was one of 8 slaves owned by Abner Landrum, a Scotsman who migrated to Edgefield, South Carolina. Unlike most slave owners, Landrum educated his slaves and used them as assets to his various interests such as his two papers, The South Carolina Republican and The Edgefield Hive, and his pottery and brickwork projects. I found this information extremely interesting, and was inspired to attempt writing some poems on my pottery.
At first I thought it was going to be a piece of cake, but unfortunately learned that not to be true. It is a very painstaking process, especially with a long poem. Out of the four I tried to inscribe, I poked through three and and the other one came out funky.
Another reason I enjoyed this article was the content. Though we can’t be sure exactly how Landrum treated his slaves, this article made it feel like he was progressive for the time period and presented those mistreated and exploited with a better living than others in similar situations might have experienced. Not to be insensitive and blunt, but being endowed to a life of making pottery and pressing newspapers sounds a lot better than being overworked in the fields.
Before I began this project, I was merely shining a flashlight into a dark room. A crappy flashlight that barely reached the back wall of a 20 by 20 room full of two different creativities. I’ve learned something new about myself and the way my creativity ebbs and flows every day. Likewise, it has required a plethora of days and the continued ability for me to experiment with my mind and wheel to come to these realizations. An epiphany of sorts, alerting me too the two different energies alive in my mind. The writing and school work type of focus (in the case of writing poetry, a fluid, attentive, spontaneous focus) and the pottery focus. One which I can only compare to a focus necessary when playing sports. The frame of mind where the only thing on your mind is the activity that you are partaking in at the moment, a disconnect from the outside world and a journey into the world of your thoughts and instincts. They are similar in the sense that to be successful at either you must have a clear mind, you should only be focusing on the task at hand. I suppose this is applicable to anything we do, even so, it is completely imperative when throwing pottery or composing writing to have a clear attentive mind.
Writing, a practice utilizing mental fluidity of thought as well as extreme focus; a focus I’m not sure how to describe other than as a disconnect from the outerworld. The only connections being your eyes on the screen and fingers on the keyboard. Here occurs the formulation of sentences. With poems, I try to create a rhythm with the rhymes and complement them by emphasizing certain sounds. For me, writing a poem is either hit or miss. Some days, I have the mental lucidity to arrange words in a rhythmic manner. Others days I feel like a blind man trying to translate a document from Latin to English. Long story short, writer's block sucks.
When I throw pottery I like to put on a reggae playlist I created and get lost in the rotation of the wheel. I find I throw my best work when I’m most relaxed and don’t have an idea for a piece in mind. Usually when I try to make a certain thing I either ruin it or it doesn’t come out how I envisioned it. Even though it's kind of annoying when I’m trying to throw a particular piece or a piece someone requests, it’s exciting not knowing what the clay will become until you're done. It’s somewhat refreshing too, when all you're doing is focusing on your pulls and then all of the sudden you have this beautiful bowl or vase that you weren’t necessarily trying to create. I must have ruined 30 or more pieces putting final touches on them, or trying to make a funky type of pottery that I had never seen before. If only my hands weren't covered in clay, I could have photographed the lunacy.
All and all, my journey of pottery followed a path I was accustomed too. One of triumph followed immediately by failure and disappointment; but that's just the way the cookie crumbles when you're dealing with wet clay. It’s really hard not to get absolutely pissed and to keep throwing when you ruin a piece you took a liking too. Ruining pieces is my least favorite part about throwing. You get an empty feeling in your stomach, on that makes you want to fight someone. Sometimes I get so mad that I promise myself I’ll never throw again. It’s even worse when someone else breaks your piece. You try not to be mad and usually act like you aren’t and don’t care but I think that makes it fester inside and makes the pain worse.
I found out some cool stuff about how my mind works and the limit to my creativity. For example, for reasons unknown, I cannot throw pottery after I’ve exerted my mental creativity trying to write poetry. Vise versa, I find it extremely hard to write poetry after I've thrown pottery. If I had to guess I would attribute it to the two different focuses which are required by both. Though they are similar in many respects, some differences set them apart in a way that made me incapable of doing both in one day. Another part of it could be the willingness to give up when the going got tough because I had already completed some work for my project for the day.
Through my project I didn’t necessarily focus on creating shapes similar to those of primitive pottery, but I did create vessels with a purpose. All of my pieces are either bowls vases or mugs and are intended to be used as such. This relates to primitive pottery as everything they threw was for a reason, it was thrown out of necessity. The necessity is another part that relates to this project. Yes I elected to do this, and yes I like to throw, but nevertheless I am required, in order to pass this project, to throw pieces.
I was really inspired by Kenyon Hansen and his quest to make the perfect thermos. He found something that he really enjoyed making and set out to master it’s production. For me, there’s nothing better than making a quality bowl, big bowl, small bowl, doesn’t matter. I simply love the process of throwing and trimming bowls. I also love how no two bowls are the same. It’s relatively easy to create mugs that are similar but for me making bowls that share characteristics is somewhat impossible. This intrigued me. So I set out to throw two bowls that looked identical, and what I came out with were a bunch of bowls that looked completely different from each other. Ain’t nothing wrong with that though, I still got me some bowls.
The information I read about Pre-Civil war slave potters was extremely interesting to me. Though it didn’t play a huge role in changing and expanding my project it gave me an interesting idea for a technique to experiment with my pottery. It was a breath of fresh air to learn about how pottery was influenced by African-American slaves and provided an outlet for a powerful voice. I look at my pottery and poetry in a similar way. I create to allow my internal thoughts and expressions to unfold as well as the words to accompany my pieces. It was inspiring to see the ways in which one of the slave potters wrote poetry and inscribed some of his pieces with the poems he wrote. I also appreciate the way doing this project has allowed me to experiment with creativity and expression.
In conclusion, this project has allowed me to experiment with my hands and words. Without this time I wouldn’t have been able to realize in depth the process that takes place mentally when throwing or creating poems. I had an awesome time coming to epiphanies and exploring the expanses of my mind while attempting to corral creative energy.