Help a brother out: This Platter Needs a Name (untitled) - 82298B

This Platter needs a name, 82298B, 1998, 26"diameter. 

By the time I was glazing pieces of this size, I was getting some of my technique down. Instead of using the large platters as giant test tiles, they became canvases. I would save my experiments for smaller platters. Anything under 20" in diameter was "small". Easy enough to replace if it should crack in half... which happened all too often.

Once they got this big, and started closing in on the 36" limit... things got tough. It took more bodies to help with all of the various aspects of the making. I needed help flipping them over. I needed help loading them into and out of the kilns. I needed help moving them. They were just HUGE.

Now I need help again. I need suggestions for a name for this platter. Can't guarantee I will use it, but nothing is grabbing now, and back when it was made, I didn't have a name either. For those of you REALLY into helping: I also need to find a venue where I can exhibit these platters. Something, somewhere, where people are excited about seeing and purchasing fine crafts. I am open to all suggestions. If you know of a gallery where these platters NEED to be shown, tell me all about it. If it comes to pass that we are able to show there, we'll work out a way for you to go home with a platter in tow.

More Than a River - 9298c

More than a River, 9298c, 1998, 28" diameter. Three days of firing, five days of cooling.

With this platter, the images speak for themselves. There is no great mystical story behind this platter. It worked. It turned out better than I hoped.

Green Jello, Food Fight - 85981

Green Jello, Food Fight, 85981, 1998, 22" diameter. 22hr firing, 45 hr cooling cycle.

After about two years in Logan UT, our neighbors finally invited us to a ward party. For the non-LDS (non-mormon) among us, that is a party held at your local church in UT... basically a neighborhood party, that falls under the aegis of the LDS church. In short, we were asked (after 2 yrs) to come to a neighborhood party. Nice, eh?

When we asked what we could bring, our neighbor suggested "a green salad". So Leah brought a nice big leafy green salad, with lots of cucumbers, tomatoes, basil, peppers.... all from our small garden.

People stared at us.

Apparently, that was not what they meant.
Green salad is code for GREEN JELLO. Yes.

Our social faux pas was not understanding that Jello was a vegetable appropriate for dish-to-pass type events. Oh hell no! Then I found out that Jello encompasses all levels of evil. You can put STUFF in Jello... to really make it salad. Carrot slivers are common (nasty!). If you add marshmallows, it becomes a gourmet dessert. If you add fruit, that fruit MUST come from a can or the Jello won't gel. Who'da thunk it?

Needless to say, they found my lack of Jello-ducation sorely lacking. After a few remedial courses in Jello making, I feel safe to say that unless I have the flu and am DYING, I don't really ever want to think about Jello again. Ever. Certainly not green Jello.

Toothpaste Hurricane - 85984

Toothpaste Hurricane, 85984, 1998, 17"diameter, 14 hr firing, 22 hr cooling

 Something so strangely appealing about seeing so much clay exposed through all the foaming mint green glaze. My expectation was that this platter would feel like a summer breeze. After firing it seemed so much more tumultuous... just wild!

Fits So Well Around the Shoulders - 8280

This August I was planning on exhibiting a few of these platters at a show in the midwest. I have been invited to show at very few exhibitions over my twenty years of making pots, so I was very excited. I started making plans to ship the work there. Packing up these beasties and getting them ready to head out the door is no small undertaking.

I realized pretty quickly that I couldn't do it by myself, the way I normally had. Heck, I am not even supposed to lift something half as heavy as these platters. Then I needed to figure out a way to ship them half-way across the country, insure them, and then plan for return shipment.

I called a few different shippers (and one pack and ship place) to see what I would be getting into in terms of time and expense. The cheapest numbers that came back made it look like driving them across the country with them sitting in the passenger seat would be considerably cheaper. Who in their right mind has a week off in the middle of summer to take 4-5 platters for a drive in the country? Not me.

Long story made short, I had to give up on this show. As much as I wanted to be a part of it, there was very little chance of it being feasible. If there was a great likelyhood of a patron of their gallery knowing ahead of time that they "had to have" one of the platters, the sales from that one might offset the shipping costs of the others. But without that security, I couldn't subject my family to that much of a gamble. Any other year and it wouldn't have been a big deal, but since our bankruptcy, ever dollar has been 10x as precious as I ever imagined. Certainly not where I thought I would be at this point in my life, but with things looking up... it will improve. Maybe the next time a gallery asks to show these platters we'll be in a situation where shipping won't cause us to have financial fits.

Vulcan's Christmas Wrapping Paper -101298A

Vulcan's Christmas Wrapping Paper -101298A

Imagine my excitement pulling this platter out of the kiln. The gnarled surface was crinkled and raw. It begged to have fingers run across the textured surface.

So, one of my peers did just that.

Broke right through the paper thin blistered skin of the glaze. Shattered the tiny bubble of crustiness that separated the outside world from that jewel-like interior.

As we worked our way through our week's critique that night, I kept chipping away at some of the more offending (obvious) bubbles. I knew full well that most of them wouldn't make it through the week without being popped. Almost like leaving bubble-wrap laying on the floor... someone HAS to pop those bubbles.

Leaving those edges raw served as a deterrent though. Everyone knew how incredibly sharp that glaze edge was.... like a ginsu scalpel! In the end, we are left with a tiny view inside the underside of this glaze. I think if I had made more of this style, I would have taken the time to sandblast off areas, just to expose this amazing interior.

Certain Dessication - 101198A

Certain Dessication - 101198A

16" diameter, fired for three days and cooled for five days. Thick titanium and iron crystals over a fluid cryolite and feldspar base, colored with copper oxide.  Price available on request.

Failure is Sometimes the Only Option - 42998VII

Failure is Sometimes the Only Option - 42998VII 

I feel like there is an assumption about these platters. Either they are a "planned" painting in glaze, where every variable has been hammered out and glaze is treated like paint.... OR.... everything is unpredictable and I have no idea how things will turn out. 

No matter how many times I have heard those judgements, they still sting. Neither concept begins to come close to how I experienced these platters. On the one hand, experimentation was a constant theme throughout the two year experience of making them. Failure was a given. I lost over 90% of what I made. I filled dumpsters with entire kiln loads. 

I also had wild successes. I had firings where I might only have one failure...and shelf after shelf of awesome platters. 

Through it all, many of the potters I was working with in the studio begged me not to smash so many of the less-than-successful platters. In some instances I could be coerced to leave it around the studio for a few weeks... see if some aspect of it grew on me. Most often though, my initial impression is what stuck with me. The hammer was ever-present in my studio throughout the making of these platters.

Getting back to failure... we seldom learn from our successful endeavors. We may gain self-esteem, but the depth of our learning is stymied by our very success. Failure however, offers endless opportunities for growth. In the case of this platter... I was experimenting with the idea of trying to create a localized reduction (silicon carbide, in a very fine mesh size, combined with copper oxide and tin) in hopes of creating an oxidized copper red that looked like a reduced blood-red copper glaze. It is readily apparent that this glaze didn't come close to my expecations.

It did however, teach me a great many things. For instance, the islands floating above the ultra-fluid crackling glaze, are made from titanium and rutile and a fair bit of frit. It never occurred to me, that titanium's matting effect on glazes, and its tendency to create micro (or macro) crystalline formations would inhibit the colloidal copper form forming. 

The sad thing: not one potter in the studio back in grad school gave a shit. None of this was of interest to them. Not even learning amazing things about how materials interact when pushed to the absolute extreme ends of the glaze spectrum. It left me feeling very adrift in this process. I am sure that is part of what the immersion in the grad school experience is supposed to happen... but it really reinforced the separation I felt/feel from other potters. 

In the end, failure was really the only option. To have succeeded would have left me learning nothing.

Holes in the Sea - 93098A

This is another one of those platters that exceeded my expectations by first disappointing me, then frustrating me, until finally revealing something so amazing as to be sublime. Go figure.

Looking at the glazed surface now, you would have no idea that this platter had a very textured and rippled bottom surface. It appeared much like a tidal sandbar after the tide had pulled out. My plan was to glaze it with some opalescent blues and purples... expecting to see tons of depth and ripples. Yeah.... that didn't work out so well.

After a 16 hour firing and a 22 hour cooling, the unctuous opalescent glaze turned more matte, and bubbled. BUBBLED !!! DAMNIT! For over a week I considered giving this platter the business end of the hammer. One day, a fellow potter sat in my studio, dutifully popping the blistered surface as though he was popping zits in front of the mirror. No shame, no fear... just pop pop pop... and suddenly... WOW.

He looked up and asked if I had looked at the glazed surface UNDER the blisters. I allowed as how I had not, and immediately was wowed. Once we popped the majority of the remaining blisters, there was still an incredibly sharp edge to contend with,... and the last thing I wanted was to injure someone who wanted to buy this platter. So we took many MANY sheets of wet-dry sandpaper, and basically polished the entire surface. In the process, the blisters became almost like air bubbles, moving through water.

At my exhibition, this was usually the last platter than anyone noticed. It doesn't scream with color or patterns. Once it was discovered, people would linger, point... and sometimes, reach out to touch. In the end, I think this was one of the most successful of all the platters I made that year. Surprise!