Not Just Paint
I think I’ve mentioned that I have been making a lot of pottery items, but I haven’t shown any of them here before.
Pottery was my first love in art.
I spent every spare minute in high school in the pottery studio. I had a lot of spare minutes, too, because I was enrolled in a fabulous early 70s experiment in education. It was officially called ‘The Informal School” but we students (and our participating teachers) called it “The Free School”, because that’s how we felt. As long as we attended the required academic meetings, which were offered in a kind of rolling format that allowed us to make our own schedules, we were free to use our school time to explore our passions. And we did.
I still have a couple of the pieces I made back then, too. One was a rather clumsy slab-built mug with a dragon on it – the tail became the mug’s handle. I gave it to my dad, and somehow my mother got it when they were divorced. She kept it until this past September, and I took it home with me after seeing her for the very last time.
The Free School did not prepare me for the college my mother forced me to attend. I wanted so much to go to art school, and I applied to and was accepted at several across the country. But Mom didn’t want me to leave home. Didn’t think I was ready. I think I would have been fine at any of them. Instead, she forced me to apply to and then attend Stony Brook University on Long Island, which was- and still is- a very good school and local.
It didn’t have an art department.
It’s safe to say that I probably went in with a fairly poor attitude. And going from tiny intimate group discussions to huge anonymous lecture halls where the professor was a small speck on a stage completely overwhelmed me. I only lasted 6 weeks into the first semester, and then said fuck it. I quit school, moved out of my parents’ house and spent the next decade on a series of questionable choices, which I won’t go into here.
I finally ditched one of my poor choices- a drummer- and found my feet again at 28. I enrolled at a community college and fell love with education again! I took a few pottery classes along with painting, design, drawing, sculpture and continued on to get a BA in art at a another good local college via a full academic scholarship.
Fast forward to the present time, and how I got into pottery again.
A few years back I traded a painting for a pottery wheel, and took a couple of classes on wheel-throwing. The facilities had their own kilns. I could use the wheel in my own studio and bring the items to the other places to fire.
Several years ago, Tom had built a beautiful little structure in the back yard. Except for the red metal roof, the cedar shakes and the poured concrete pad, most of it is constructed of timber felled and milled from our own property. We designed it together and he did most of the construction himself over almost a year. It was meant to be our music studio, but it never got the chance. It does have electric heat and is a very comfortable space.
Somehow I talked Tom into letting me use the building as a pottery studio, especially since we were doing all our music work in the house, and I was really spending a lot of time on clay. He’s always been extremely supportive of all my art efforts, and this was no exception. We moved the wheel out there. Now, it holds our electric kiln (you can see it in the upstairs space above me) and even has an outdoor sink! We turn that off during months when there is danger of frost, and I just haul a bucket of water out there to use.
We found our other kiln on Craigslist and began to experiment with raku firing in the yard. We set it up just outside the little building and to burn propane only- no electricity required. Raku is a technique where the kiln is brought up to about 1900° very quickly, then the pottery removed and treated in a variety of ways to achieve different effects.
We had a blast with it, and so did our youngest kid whenever he came to visit.
Here’s Sam removing a piece from the raku kiln:
And this is a piece I made, also raku-fired. While still hot, I draped horsehair onto the surface, which burn and curls and makes lovely patterns on the clay.
Having the electric kiln installed inside the pottery studio meant I could make things and fire them at will. The kiln itself is pretty old and entirely manual, and I love that about it. I check the temperature and raise it via dials over a set period of time. Once it reaches the expected temp, about 8 hours later, it shuts off, and then cools down slowly over about 16 hours.
Opening the kiln is always exciting for me. I know what I hope will happen, but it’s still a surprise to see the finished pieces come out.
The pieces in my last firing shown at the top came out of my kiln this morning. There are four b&w 10″ plates, and four colorful 5 1/2″ citrus-themed footed bowls.
They were all made using a method called “sgraffito”. Once formed, the items are allowed to air-dry to a point called “leather hard”. The clay is stiff but still contains a lot of moisture. At that point, I paint on two coats of glaze and let that dry a bit more. Then, I use a sharp tool to “draw” the designs you see by scratching through the glaze to expose the clay below. It’s slow, messy work, and has to be done very carefully.
Last, I paint on a coat of clear glaze and let everything dry until the clay is dry enough to fire, a stage called “green ware”.
A lot of potters fire their pieces twice- the first firing is unglazed green ware, producing bisque pieces, which are then glazed and fired again. I don’t need to do that with sgraffito pieces, or any of the pieces I make. I use a clay with extremely minimal shrinkage, and glazes especially formulated for the temperature range I use. So far, it seems to be working out pretty well.
It is so much fun to work in clay. It’s more physical/tactile than painting. I like making pieces with a lot of texture. I recently had a table full of my ceramic pieces at a very successful holiday art fair, and it was so lovely to see folks touching the pieces just to feel the textures.
Pottery fills a place in my creative heart that painting does not, and in fact sometimes nudges painting right out of the way.
koshersalaami
11/27/2022 @ 12:20 am
I like the white raku piece. My wife and I collected for a little while, mainly one woman’s work that we really loved. It’s been years since we did.
Rose Guastella
11/27/2022 @ 4:47 pm
Sometimes I use feathers instead of- or in addition to- horsehair on pieces like this one. Feathers leave a lovely ghostly impression on the surface of clay.
I know artists who use their own hair but that idea doesn’t tempt me in the least.
Ron Powell
11/27/2022 @ 7:01 am
“…a fabulous early 70s experiment in education. It was officially called ‘The Informal School” but we students (and our participating teachers) called it “The Free School”, because that’s how we felt…”
In my home town, New Haven, Connecticut, the ‘fabulous experiment in education’ was founded in 1970 as ‘The High School. In The Community’ or ‘The High School Without Walls’ as it became known…
It is still in operation today, 50+ years later, as a regional magnet school….
The development of your creative imagination and skills is proof positive of the successful impact such educational experiments can have on the capacity for individuals to succeed and make meaningful contributions to society.
I wouldn’t be surprised if your ‘Red Dragon’ drinking cup isn’t one day touted as a crowning achievement in form, function, simplicity, and utility…
Rose Guastella
11/27/2022 @ 4:53 pm
Ours started up in 1971, after students and teachers spent a year researching other programs at neighboring districts on Long Island. It was well thought out and executed, and continued for at least 40 years that I know of. The alums have a Facebook group that includes many, many more than the 100 students in the original group. My understanding was that it did metamorphose over the years, which seems perfectly reasonable to me.
Suzanne
11/27/2022 @ 8:33 am
I adore that raku (saki?) vase. And your outdoor studio space! It looks like you can open the double doors and work facing out at nature? Do birds and squirrels wander in? Rain on the roof? So so dreamy.
I related to your struggle to get to art school, and grateful productive immersion once there. I didn’t get there until age 27. My mother wanted me to attend an ivy league school, to meet a rich husband. Lol, that didn’t happen. I did take the GEDs seated next to nice looking man with a knife strapped to his lower leg.
Raku and sgraffito were my favorites in ceramics also. Faculty got to audit one course a semester for free, so I just took the same ceramics class over and over for a couple years. I got up at 5:00 to drive into town, the class ran 8-1, then in a calm blissed out state, covered with clay, I’d teach my 2:00 class like a relaxed noodle. My kitchen filled up with bowls, many bowls.
This is fun, getting the story of Rose. Questionable life decisions seem a requirement in early years. My worst were also before I was able to do what I’d always wanted to do. People seem born with a persistence spark though, I see it in some students, not all. A life spent as a creative is tough and rare. We caught a white whale. Maybe that awareness is part of it.
P.S. That dragon mug is something else! You know your mom kept it because she loved you and the mug proved her wrong.
koshersalaami
11/27/2022 @ 4:19 pm
I love your PS
Rose Guastella
11/27/2022 @ 5:05 pm
The raku piece is coil built and hand burnished (that shine is not glaze) and about 8″ tall, so probably too big for sake!
Yes! Those double doors open out to the greenbelt that our 1 acre borders on. It feels like we have a lot more wooded property than is actually “ours”. Lots of wildlife come visit. Red and gray squirrels, Pileated woodpeckers, hummingbirds, all kinds of birds, really. Bees, dragonflies, butterflies…
As long as it is warmer outside than it is in, those doors are open!
Haha! I TAUGHT a GED course one year; it was one of my favorite years of teaching ever. The class was mostly folks from Mexico and various countries in South America. One couple from Poland. Two gangbangers who scared the crap out of me at first.
One man from Colombia actually had a BA from a university back home, but his boss at the landscaping company wanted him to get the GED to improve his English speaking skill. (I thought he did fine)
He was a wonderful asset to the class, especially when I needed help explaining some of the math (not my forte back then or now).
When they took the tests and passed, we had a party, and everyone cried.
You may well be right about why mom kept the mug. Thank you for that.
Suzanne
11/28/2022 @ 8:42 am
Rose your GED class sounds like a family. What a lovely supportive way to take the GEDs. I could have used some mentoring, but took them cold. That’s rough exam, two or maybe it was three whole days, a small mob in a huge room, in a downtown government building. I managed to pass though, math just barely, and applied for admission at the institution where years later I ended up on faculty. They rejected my application. A GED disqualified me.
Things turned out okay though. I went to a radical art institution where there was no structure, no course requirements, and apparently, GEDs were considered interesting. At the interview, a woman was walking up and down the hall, wearing black lipstick, her hair shaved off except for a triangle in the front, and topless, except for two pieces of white bread tied with string. It was surreal, and I knew immediately this was where I wanted to spend the next four years. They gave me financial aid plus work study–it cost under $250.00 for the whole adventure. If I’d studied with my employer, I might still be in debt!
The mug. How could your mom look at that and think you should be a business major? Plus it looks like it weighs a ton…so artistic, and very very serious 🙂
Rose Guastella
11/28/2022 @ 11:58 am
Wow! Your college experiences sound pretty amazing. All that creative energy allowed to flourish! The white bread bra- hahahahaha
The school I desperately wanted to attend back in 1973 was Evergreen College in Washington State. Do you know it? They had a radical approach to education back then and still do today. Student centered and very supportive. Those who can handle the ability to immerse themselves in their chosen experiences can do very well.
40 years later, one of my own kids ended up going there for a year.
Suzanne
11/28/2022 @ 1:13 pm
I haven’t heard of Evergreen, but it sounds similar with the student focus. Mine was the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, which is no longer in existence, swallowed up by Tufts University and is now their art department. The unstructured curriculum/no rules era ended with that 🙁
SMFA had no course attendance requirement, no required studio major classes, no grades, no credits. At the end of each semester, you brought all your work before a board of three faculty and two students, and they decided how much course credit you earned. After a productive semester I went to my boards and was awarded a year of credit. I didn’t make work for months after that, yet graduated in three years rather than four.
I sat on a student’s review board who brought in a 45 record and a kids record player. He’d started a punk band and wrote an album worth of songs, done the album art, and become fairly famous in the Boston punk scene. He played the 45 and got a full semester of credit. No surprise that the bread bra woman was also in a punk band. I ended up in a printmaking class with her and she was really nice!
Before SMFA merged with Tufts, we got transfer students who initially expected to prosper in the lack of structure, instead ended up stoned on a mattress all semester. Alternately, our students transferred there when they felt our fairly strict academic requirements stifled their creativity. We were kind of yin/yang partners that way.
Art Stone
11/28/2022 @ 4:09 pm
I did some background music for a stop frame animation project for a friend who attended Evergreen. Also I was the first musician on their radio station KAOS. It was day 1, minute one, live and acoustic. I recall playing a David Bromberg version of some old blues tune.
Suzanne
11/28/2022 @ 1:35 pm
Me again. I haven’t thought about this stuff for a long time, here’s something I’d add:
Both of us would have loved teaching in that system, without the burden of grading. Students are evaluated by colleagues and peers, given credit, or not, a reflection of the real world. Giving one painting a B and another a B- is almost totally subjective, and giving a student an F? They have no idea how difficult that is!
Art Stone
11/27/2022 @ 10:40 am
Nice work !
I really like the horse hair vase.
Your studio looks fabulous but eerily tidy. I am not capable of such.
Rose Guastella
11/27/2022 @ 5:10 pm
In all fairness that pic was taken when the studio was new and clean. I still keep it pretty tidy because the space is small, but every shelf gets filled with all my accumulated tools and glazes and works in progress. All of the clay and glaze gets moved into my painting studio in the house by November 15 so there is no danger of freezing.
My painting studio looks like it was hit with an art bomb.
When I stop being able to find stuff, I know its time to do a major cleanup. That time is any day now.
JP Hart
11/27/2022 @ 11:51 am
100 Notable Books of 2022
Sort by: Fiction/Poetry, Nonfiction, Memoir, History or Science.
Superb NYT compilation as good ol’ 2022 wanes….Carefree Highway….indeed.
TY Rose!
(peace sign emogi implied)
(minutes to hours)
Rose Guastella
11/27/2022 @ 5:11 pm
You’re welcome!
koshersalaami
11/27/2022 @ 8:48 pm
You can find a peace sign in my Icon
Alan Milner
11/29/2022 @ 2:25 pm
I have the first and only piece I ever did – a slip cast vase that I made in 1960, when I was 12 years old. It is absolutely ugly and I haven’t even thought about it in years but it is sitting in my cabinet.
Rose Guastella
11/29/2022 @ 4:19 pm
That actually makes a lot of sense. It was important enough to you to keep all these years. I felt like that about my dragon mug. Years would go by without a single thought. I knew my mother had it but my trips Back East over the last dozen years were few and far between…Seeing it again in my Mom’s apartment after she died was different somehow. I’m happy to have it back.