About American Pottery Boy

 
 



In my first pottery class we had the generic slide lecture– three long hours’ worth of slides.


But the impressive part was that for every single slide, the professor knew not only the person’s name but also about their life, their work, and their place in the ceramics world. It’s an overwhelming amount of information when you’re unfamiliar.


That being said, the two people I remember most from that lecture were Rosaline Delisle and George Ohr.


Each mystified me.


At the time I could not articulate why, but instinctually I understood these two embodied some connection despite their very different work. These two ceramic masters were my starting point.


I wasn’t the best student, but this connection between Rosaline Delisle and George Ohrn intrigued me enough that I gave myself an assignment. I researched their lives and their work, and attempted to replicate their methods. 


I started watching closely as people around me would unintentionally end up with moments reminiscent of George Ohr’s twists– how do beginning throwers twist that pot?


I would have to look backwards for me to move forwards– reflection.


I set my goal and my parameters.


My goal was not pots, so I was not limited by the baggages of pot-making.

My goal was form— freedom and control.


Between Rosaline’s tight forms and careful proportions, and George’s structural control and illusion, I found my own middle ground.


II slid back and forth on the spectrum from Rosaline to George, developing this work in the AMOCA (American Museum of Ceramic Arts) studio.


During that time the studio manager Heidi Kreitchet showed me a side of ceramics I had never seen.


When Heidi made work she was having fun. She wasn’t upset if things didn’t go as planned, she embraced the chaos. Heidi was able to understand that when she was working, she was present and she was always trying to find something within the work that was reflected in herself.


It’s the visual registration of seeing yourself within your expression.



While at AMOCA I was working in the studio, and above us was the museum. The museum is a special place. While the studio offered access and facilities to make the work, the museum illustrated the potential of what could be done with the material of clay.


This formed me.


I was influenced by the likes of Don Reitz, Peter Volkous, Betty Woodman, George Ohr, Chris Gustin, Beatrice Wood, Marilyn Levine, and the people around me who revered these idols.


This was my introduction to American Pottery.


My work was a reaction to that style of ceramic making.


The pots were thick, they were sharp, they were delicate, they were fine. They were the place that I was able to start from. They showed me what was possible with the material, and what had already been done clay, and gave me a place to start.


I could throw thin walls, I can throw even walls, but these attributes were not my sole goals.


I saw George Orhs work And learned that wall thickness could be strategically varied to make use of a wall’s strength and weakness. I found that I could stack thinner and thicker sections of wall to result in a perfect self-supporting collapse. In the collapse, pillows inflate, repeating around the pot. Convex and concave undulations transform the rigid-geometric cylinder into something that resembles life.


Collapse in ceramics is often immediately followed by a slowing down of the wheel, and grabbing of the wire tool in frustration.


Then slicing the slumped pot with said wire tool, and the eventual folding to complete the collapse– on its way to returning back to the undetermined form of wet clay.


With patience, close observation, and research, I find myself able to intentionally fold walls – building consistency and self-supporting forms.


Center is negotiable.


American Pottery Boy is equal parts naïvete and excitement for my own potential.


I could have asked beginner-me what he was doing, and he would generously tell you he didn’t know.


I understand now that my mentors and peers, and the history, at AMOCA formed my conception of American Ceramics. My work is both a reaction to what American Ceramics has been, and an exploration of what the future of American Ceramics can be.