EAPA POTTERS
CAMP 2002 how eager people were to take part
The relaxed
one
A tornado within 10 miles, floods preventing people from arriving,
and even snow blocking Mediterranean mountain passes in August can mean only
one thing - time for the EAPA potters' camp at Shotley. Peering myopically
through a rain-lashed windscreen along the A14 somehow didn't bother me. I have
enjoyed every other waterlogged camp and this was to be no exception. Following
a few minutes of drizzle on arrival, though, we had no more rain at all until
we were on the A14 heading westwards for home on Sunday. Simply astonishing!
Sorry to go on about this, but the weather has been such a feature (aka
nightmare, trauma, ordeal) of previous camps that we could have been forgiven
for thinking that outdoor firings were a mug's game.
Over all,
relaxation was the name of the game this year. With fine weather, all the
firings went smoothly and tempers remained unfrayed. That does not, however,
mean the weekend lacked dramatic tension. Almost every conversation seemed to
start "when are we going to be . . . wet firing, opening the soda kilns,
lighting the wood kiln, running a throwing workshop, watching Usch disappear
behind a giant pot of her own making, eating". That's not to suggest the lack
of a proper timetable; it's simply a measure of how eager people were to take
part.
Glazing
The glazing tent remained just on the right side
of chaos. Tony Pugh had brought what sounds like a simple combination of glazes
for the wood kiln - a purple base, with blue and red glazes interacting on top.
His patience in explaining the process to all participants (sometimes several
times) was a wonder to behold. Mostly (doh!), we managed the basics - slip
under glaze, shino on the insides of soda pots and slip on the outside - with
little complaint. It must have been ok, because we had even packed the kilns by
the end of the evening.
Firing
The trusty wood kiln rose to
1310 degrees with relatively little trouble, despite its creaking at the seams.
Peter Spital and Liz Harris tended the ageing kiln with almost parental
concern, but the poor old thing (the kiln, not Peter) now has so many holes
that reduction and a decent draw through the chimney are getting harder to
achieve. That said, the 170 pots (yes, 170!) fired actually had colours other
than other year's sh-sh-sh-Shotley brown, with some interesting purples and
blues from Tony's glazes.
Soda
Soda virgins Peter Harrington and
Amanda Thingy (I'll suffer for that one) took charge of the two other high
firings. Amanda was rewarded with stunning oranges on white St Thomas cups,
while there was a good range of colours (well blue, orange, tan and toast)
throughout. Even the almost obligatory kiln shelf collapse damaged only a few
pots.
Raku
Meanwhile, the raku practitioners can't be kept
away from the flames. Victor Knibbs set the pace here with a fascinating range
of work coming out of the dustbins - soft crackling in the naked raku David
Roberts/Tim Andrews style, brilliant copper golds, a respectable purple and
successful raw-fired raku (more of that later). Vic nearly had to be dragged
away from it all on the Sunday afternoon.
The pits
Oil drums
really are too useful for storing oil in, aren't they? Not content with
supporting the ceramic fibre of the raku kilns and fuelling one of the soda
kilns, they came into their own for the above-ground pits (which still sounds
like a student's lodgings). These involve filling a drum with a six-inch layer
of sawdust, copper carbonate, newspaper, wood, burnished pots and a lot of
smoke. Susan Cupitt (tall enough not to up-end in to the drums - spoilsport)
tended these. The results were muted, but there was far less breakage than we
used to get in the true subterranean pit. And if people didn't like the
results, a second biscuit firing would restore a blank
canvas.
Throwing a-muses
Usch Spettigue shows remarkable
control. She isn't tall, but can throw pots that none of us can reach to the
bottom of, not even Susan. Over the course of the weekend, Usch threw two pots,
one of 54 lb weight of clay and the other a mere 50 lb. The first of these, a
bottle form, was built up in four sections - a 25 lb base, centred from two
separate lumps of clay, a 15 lb mid section, a 10 lb neck and a 4 lb rim. All
this was done in front of an audience and on a wheel she hadn't used
before.
Beryl Hines put 45 years' teaching people to throw to good use
on Jerry's collection of wheels. At least one satisfied student reckoned she
could now get the hang of throwing by using Beryl's techniques, despite failing
with her previous tutor.
Hot water
Then there were my wet
firings. Prepare for a thermal shock: wet firing and raw-fired raku can work.
It's true that what you save in time you seem to lose in kiln shelves, and that
some of the work still displayed Krakatoan tendencies, but the answer is simple
- paper clay, both home-made and the new Scarva TS Flax Clay reviewed elsewhere
in this newsletter.
A simple Durox block chamber and raku burner
provided a kiln that rose to 1050 degrees in a matter of minutes and many of
the wet pots survived intact. Think about this for a second. That's a climb of
150 degrees a minute, perhaps 90 times the usual rate for biscuit firing, and
with a 15-minute soak you have a basis for raku parties that include the making
as well as the firing. The possibilities are almost endless (or almost
pointless depending on your viewpoint).
Most of the wet-fired pots this
time were unglazed, but a raku glaze fluxed smoothly and some of the wet-fired
biscuit pots went in to the following day's raku firings and survived that. So,
as Angus Deayton might say, that's a great wet raspberry to the doubters and a
great wet firing to the believers. The irony of one of the best surviving
pieces in this fast firing being a model snail wasn't lost, unlike the hairs up
to the elbow on my left arm from a blow back.
And then there was the
food and drink. What can I say? "Hic!", mostly. Potters do appreciate the
finest things in life - mud, fire, food, wine, creativity and conviviality are
a powerful combination, especially in such a fine setting as Jerry Finlayson's
home.
More?
We're after new ideas for next year's camp or
similar days. What do you think of an historical making and firing weekend -
making medieval tiles to fire later at home, and firing the Roman kiln? Or a
decorating workshop? Or a session on lustres? Or more kiln building? There is
always so much more to learn and so much more fun to be had, and so much more
to be exploded. Please pass your ideas on to a Committee member.
Mark
Boyd |
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