Cooking the pots, that is.
Back in 2009 a pottery class did a raku firing in the small yard beside the studio.
After
getting the clay pots to 1530 degrees F or there abouts in a kiln (not
shown) they were removed red hot (with long calipers) and put into
little tubs.
These
little tubs (a.k.a. trash cans) had a combustable material in them.
Then as it caught fire, the lid was placed tightly on the can, which
created an atmosphere that had limited oxygen, which the fire would
quickly burn up, leaving a starved atmosphere, and then would make the
glaze and the pot turn a different color. It's called reduction,
because the oxygen is reduced.
Here you can see pieces of newspaper in a tub.
These
glazes (low fire) give great metalic shines, and the fire creates a
smokey black color to the clay that is bare...and often has cracks of
black running through the glazes. The clay is somewhat porous still,
and thus can't hold liquids.
I
don't know Italian sign language, and hope Bette is not saying anything
too crude when I snapped her photo. I really like her piece of
pottery.
On
the right is Geoff Bird, the teacher. On left is Bette Potter Jones, a
good friend of mine with many years of making pottery. Geoff is picking
up a unfired piece to place into the small kiln.
My friend Pat Levi showed me her piece after being washed of the soot of the firing. She seemed pretty happy about it.
These are a few of my first raku pieces from that workshop. I still have them, probably won't ever sell!
This is for Sepia Saturday post No. 459
Tasting what's in the pot...perhaps a young wife who hasn't done much cooking in a household yet.
A
few days ago I posted photos of my parents when they applied for their
marriage license, and then the wedding announcements, both of which were
in the San Antonio TX newspaper.
The Lucky Couple.
I remember when I
got married the story my mother told of her first attempts at cooking.
She apparently read the directions wrong, or had written them down
wrong. She cooked rice with equal amounts of water to rice, which
resulted in a burned pot, and a big glob of solid rice, which of course
she couldn't offer to my father. I think they even threw the pot away. Hopefully they laughed about it, even
if they were a bit hungry.
