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Well, going to be heading away for a week, not that anyone would notice from the activity here.  Did a nice little show in Ithaca, NY last weekend, artist generated and run, and stayed with the lovely Julie Crosby and her family, then promptly came home and got sick.  Seems to happen a lot after the last activity of the season.  Anyway, I’m medicated and ready to drive back to Ohio to visit family and friends.  See you in a week!

Been cookin’…gonna cook some more

OK now!  Just home after firing the last of three kilnloads of pots for the studio sale this weekend.  Kinda sweaty, kinda stinky, so tired I feel like I might just get sick on the spot.  Anyone else out there feel that way after a long kiln grind?  With no more pots to glaze, while the kiln was firing I spent time cleaning the studio and organizing it so that people can come and go and perhaps actually believe that it’s a clean and organized place most of the time.  It’s interesting how much dust and dirt can get into the unlikeliest places.  Carolyn mopped yesterday, and we generally mop a couple of times per week, but after shifting things around and moving stuff to the loading dock overnight, there was so much dust and debris around that I’ll have to mop again after I unload the kiln tomorrow.  But, the place is starting to look good.  We did a group clean and set up of the showroom, which will survive past the show.  Now each of us has a dedicated section, so that the public won’t have to ask whose work is whose anymore (great idea Shelly), plus we have an integrated section where everyone’s work is put together to create a wondrous whole.

The studio sale is the culmination of my year, and has been since about 1978.  Mike Frasca started the tradition and I got invited in when I went to work in the space on Spring Street.  We always thought of it as more than a selling opportunity.  It was a time to mix with our customers/friends, and let them know how much we appreciated their support.  When you think about it, each of us has dangerously few customers who support our efforts, and I’ve tried never to forget that fact and to make them understand the debt of gratitude I owe them for allowing me to pursue my dream job.  So, we always used to cook and bake for them, and tended to make our prices just a little bit lower so as to give a sense of giving back.

We’ve been laying in a stock of food and drink for the party over the past week.  I have a sense that in these tough economic times, it’s more important than ever to, well, party, and give a good spread for those who care enough to show up and buy.  So this one is going to be a good one!  I moved the extra fridge up from the storage room in the basement last night, and now both are packed with good things.  Tomorrow I’ll be making the big batch of cauliflower soup, and getting all the last of the provisions.  I hope folks show up to help us get rid of it all.

I received a message on my cell yesterday from a woman who works at the Art Museum in Rochester.  She wants me to come in and give a lecture in February with another artist with whom I had a gallery show this past year.  My initial reaction was one of fear and trepidation, but then I began to compose imaginary “lectures” in my head throughout the night, and actually began to get excited about what I might have to offer.  Of course, this would not be a lecture that any art critic or high-minded patron would look at in a favorable light, but rather one which placed what I do, functional pottery, in the context of living a humane life.  I began to think about what all of the choices I have made in my career have meant in terms of a human existance, instead of in terms of color theory or negative space.  How making small, intimate things instead of large, grandiose statements on the human condition could in fact be as valid a path to take as any other.  And on and on and on…  see what happens when one is short on sleep?

Anyway, we’ll see where it all goes.  When all is said and done, my real work happens in the studio, and not at the podium.

It’ll be a few days before the next posting, as I’ll be doing more cooking.

Later,

Richard

Crazy time

I’ve been firing a kiln off every second or third day, and getting other things ready for the studio sale.  Just crazy, as that means I get almost no home time, which means no computer time.  So, there are pictures of pots, of tools, of stuff, but it will have to wait until after next weekend, when I get some time.

Hope you are all doing well out there.  Potters, may your kilns be full and the sales plentiful.  Everyone else, I hope that your holidays went well.

Later,

Richard

The Make-do

No, not a previously undiscovered Gilbert and Sullivan opera!  Rather, an approach to making pots.

I was thinking, as I was working in the studio today, of how many tools some of the potters I know possess.  Sixteen different kinds of ribs, all purchased from the latest hot tool vendor at NCECA, all kinds of fancy trimming tools from the cryogenically frozen metals to the hand-forged, geegews that center for trimming, that center for throwing, trimming chucks, whisks of all sizes and shapes, and on and on and on…you get the idea.

I probably have less pottery tools than just about anyone I know.  Some of my favorites are a barely sharpened wooden pencil, the non-business end of a bic pen, various bits and pieces of plastic lighting screens from flourescent lights I’ve known, broken bits of soft-brick, pieces of old construction lumber where the grain has become pronounced as the soft wood recedes, you get the idea.  I use what is at hand, and when what I need is not at hand, I figure out a way to proceed from there.  Generally it’s not too hard to figure out how to make do, and sometimes it even leads one in a direction that improves your work.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate a good tool, and sometimes a good tool can make all the difference in doing a good job, but generally, in the pottery field, I have not found this to be the case.  I’ll take some photos tomorrow of the kind of things I’m talking about, and post them on the blog.  I guess what I’m getting at here is that it’s not the newest tool on the block that makes one’s work good, or your own.  It’s honing the basic skills, acquiring the subtlety about your materials and processes to know what you need to get the results you want, versus just working with tools for the thrill of working with tools.

Today was all about trying to finish up “the list” of things to make for the studio sale, before breaking off to glaze and fire.  I’ve got a couple of items yet to make, but strangely (or not so) the mugs are not going to get made.  I may make a few to try out a new shape I’m noodling around in my head, but they are this year’s item that just never gets it’s number called…instead I focused on covered jars, which will be made with sculptural handles put together by studio mate Carolyn.

…guess folks will just have to make-do this year without my mugs.

Later,

Richard

If Homer Simpson were a potter…

…I do believe he’d have felt right at home at my studio today!

It must have been a hoot watching me trying to figure out how to program the new electric kiln today.  One of my studio mates was wanting to fire some largish sculpture up to cone 6, which meant a very slow heating ramp, and then needed a slow cool due to some pots in the very bottom of the kiln.  So, what’s the problem, 99 3/4% of you out there are saying…and it’s not really a problem if you’ve done it before, and if you’ve a mind that follows instructions and works one tiny step at a time.  But, from the time of my first programming class at Penn in 1972, I knew computers and I were not really compatible.  My mind works in leaps, and computers take little tiny baby steps, one right after the other, never missing a beat.  So, it took a good hour, but at least now I know how to do it.

And I probably shouldn’t mention my dinnerware project…I’m making square, rectangular dinnerware that needs to look a whole lot like something you’d find at Pottery Barn, but with my glazes.  (I also need a refresher course in how to say no!)  So, after the longest time, I’ve got the production molds made, but to make PB pottery, you really need a ram press.  I think the results are OK, but not what the customer wants, I’m afraid.  So, every other day, there I am at the slab roller, 8-11 am, rolling and then draping and the pounding and then niggling clay into the forms.  The things we do to get by…

So, Homer, if you’re in the neighborhood, I’ve got a project or two for you!

Meanwhile, I toil away trying to get things together for the studio show.  Making lots of small things, which I’m reminded every night, really take a toll on your back and other body parts.  Give me a 25 pound planter or bowl any day!  Oh, and getting the kilnloads glazed promises to be really tedious as well, me with my spraying three and four layers of glaze on each piece.  Homer, are you there???

Oh, and did I mention I’ve got jury duty next week?

Off to stretch, ride and cook…

Later,

Studio sale 2008

Sale postcard, frontBack of card

It’s getting to be that time of year again!  Here is what this year’s sale postcard looks like.  Elizabeth Robinson, potter out in Colorado, and proprietor of www.postcardsforartists.com since the birth of her child, put this together for us.  She does excellent work, is reasonable in terms of cost, and is a joy to work with.  I recommend her highly.

Guests this year are jeweler Dee Topham, who lives and works above our studio, and potter Julie Crosby from Trumansburg, NY.  Julie wood fires her functional/sculptural pots, which have a spare yet strong aesthetic, and is one of those intrepid female woodkiln potters who just inspire all kinds of admiration in us.  Plus, she’s a lovely woman to boot!  This is the way to get to see your friends…invite them to be a part of your sale! No seriously,  she makes great pots and it is an honor to have her with us this year.

I’ve been taking the past little while to make some different pots than I normally make.  Little things that have been bumping around my mind but which seem unable to come out with the pressure of shows and orders.  Whether any of them will turn out after being processed in the kiln remains to be seen, but it has been fun to make them, even as the little businessguy potter perched on my shoulder has been yelling “make more pots, make more pots, make things you can crash out that you know will sell” in my ear all day long. I have a history of hanging with the tried and true that I am trying to break.  We’ll talk about that later…

Question:  How do you know the economy is in a tailspin?

Answer:  If you’re working in my studio, where the south-facing windows open onto the CSX freightyards, and which overlook two of the main rail lines in and out of Rochester, the answer lies in counting the number of trains that go by.  And the number of workers’ cars in the parking lot.  Freight volume, and traffic, is just a small fraction of what it used to be, based upon our anecdotal visual analysis of what passes in front of our eyes, and shakes our building. The parking lot has been almost totally empty most of the past week or two, which is really unusual.  Most of the time the yard is going 24 hours a day, and the trains come night and day (trust me, as I sleep on the sofa overnight when firing the kiln, I know!), but now it’s just quiet.

OK, time to email out show announcements.

Later!

Should have been “How to BUILD a glaze spray booth”

Oh, well, best laid plans and all…

I see as I posted the blog that my attached text either did not add, or else I just don’t know how to access it. So, let me try to explain…

Image one…The booth, the front

Basic 2 x 4 construction, with drywall backing and cheapest glossy shower board inside glued to the drywall.  The turntable is an old Brent wheel.

Image two…The inside, after a spray session

This shows the inside, with the floor comprised of two boards which slide in from the front, atop the wheel body but under the wheel head.  The exit flue for the spray exhaust is in the back bottom right.

Image three…Inside, one floor board removed

This shows how the floor easily removes.  The floor is simple formica covered particle board, scavenged from a cabinet shop.

Image four…The inside, both floorboards removed

This shows the works under the floorboards.  The Brent wheel is mounted on top of cinder blocks to bring the working surface to a comfortable level.  Why use a potter’s wheel for the turntable?  It’s rotation and speed is controlled by a foot pedal, leaving both hands free to spray.  Also, this keeps you from having to reach into the spray booth to twirl the turntable, a major inconvenience, not to mention the hazard of breathing the spray.

Image five…Outside the booth, the mechanicals

The exhaust fan motor, which is simply a scavenged (free) household squirrel cage blower from an old forced air furnace.  I block off the intake from the outside surface of the blower, so that all exhaust comes from the inside of the spray booth.  To increase suction, I hang a baffle down from the top front of the booth when not spraying a very large piece.

Image six…Another view of the complicated works

Another view, showing how the fan is mounted on a table, and is screwed to several 4 x 4 members.  I have simply sealed the joint between the booth and the fan using the expandable spray insulation.

Image seven…Outside venting

A picture of the ducting exhausting to the outside.  To bring the air through the concrete block wall, I used a rectangular-to- round adapter piece found at Home Depot, and attached a length of 6 inch diameter ducting through the hole in the wall (hammer and chisel, again sealed with expandable foam insulation).  I had a piece of galvanized made up to cover over the exit and deflect the spray downward ($50).  I do not screen the exhaust, as I’m sending it out into the freightyard of the CSX railroad depot, and they send lots of other stuff back my way.  For those of you in “green” areas, my old spraybooth in the country exhausted similarly over a grassy patch, which never showed any ill effects from the glaze spray after 16 years of glazing.

Image eight…View from above

This is taken from roof level.  I roofed the booth with drywall, but also installed a standard 4 foot long flourescent light ($10).  This gives me all the light I need for glazing, night or day.

Image nine…The rooftop

This image shows the top of the booth, including the incredibly complex carpentry required for it’s construction, as well as the storage place for some random scraps of M Board

How to glaze a spray booth, reel cheep…

The booth, from the frontInside, close upInside, one floor board removedInside, both floorboards removedThe mechanics, the blowerAnother view of the complicated worksOutside ventingView from aboveThe rooftop

There should be text explained the pictures when you click on the pictures.  If not, I’ll fill it in in my next blog post.  I built this spray booth in about a full day, once the materials were assembled.  I’d built a couple more in earlier decades, so I had the basic concept down.  If you exclude the cost of the old wheel, I think it cost me a total of about $125.  The prior booth was even cheaper and lasted 16 years.

I chose to use a squirrel cage blower because it was free.  I take a piece of steel and clean the fins of glaze about every other kilnload, as it can build up and decrease the suction.  It takes about 5 minutes to do this.  I don’t put a filter in front of the fan as it decreases suction significantly.  If you chose to, you could run a waterfall baffle system through which the spray would pass, before it exhausted, but that would require more complicated construction and more expensive venting equipment.  I did not choose to use an in-line inducer fan because of the noise factor.

This booth really works well.  I generally spray across the pot, towards the exit fan, so that the booth exhausts quickly and efficiently.  When I did the math, I found that the air is theoretically exhanged completely every two seconds.  There is little if any blowback from the spray, so the operation does not seem overly hazardous to one’s respiratory health.

Any further questions or comments, feel free to leave on the blog, and I will answer them here as well.

Best,

Richard

Soup, lovely soup

OK, I’ll go easy on you guys today!  No more heavy stuff, at least for the next 24 hours…<g>  This one will be quick and easy, with lots of payback.  It’s a soup recipe.  You know, it’s that time of year, when soup, bread and salad just seems to make perfect sense.

This is one of my favorites, which has amazed and delighted family and guests over the years.  I originally got the recipe from Mikhail Zakin, founder and ceramics director of the Old Church Cultural Center in Demarest, NJ.  They sponsor one of the country’s absolute best ceramics sales every year, the first weekend in December (http://tasoc.org) and Mikhail always made up a batch of butternut squash soup for the Friday night setup dinner for the artists and volunteers.  Now Mikhail is a wonderful woman, potter, sculptor and inspiration, but I won’t wax enthusiastic about her for too long.  Google her and see what she has done over the years.  Anyway, some years ago I gave a workshop there and asked if she would mind sending me the recipe for that wonderful soup.  She did, and I’ve made it many times.  It’s morphed over the years into something a bit different, so I don’t know if she would approve of the changes and still put her name on it, but here it is:

CURRIED BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP

(an adaptation of Mikhail Zakin’s Demarest recipe)

 

I’m writing this down as I’m cooking the soup, so the quantities are what I’m using for this batch…as you’ll find out, the proportions are variable, and using things on hand works just fine, too

 

Ingredients

2 small butternut squash(what I’m using), or one big one, enough to fill a 9 x 13 pan

1 large sweet onion, Spanish or Vidalia, or Texas or Walla Walla sweet

3 cloves garlic

1 peeled section of very fresh ginger (important to use fresh ginger!), about 1 ¾ inches long and pretty thick

approx 40 ounces of chicken stock (for the studio sale I am using vegetable stock) (you can adjust if the soup is too thick when blended) (I’m using one can of stock and two bouillion cubes)

1 can of beans, drained (I’m using Great Northern) for texture

several scoops of chunky peanut butter

lemon juice, 2-3 tablespoons, as a flavor enhancer

curry powder to taste

Tabasco sauce or Oriental Sweet Chili sauce (what I’m using) to taste, for a bit of zip

Salt and pepper to taste

 

 

Put about ½ inch of water in the 9 x 13 roasting pan, and halve the squash lengthwise, deseeding before putting in the oven, at 350 degrees, for about 45 minutes, or until soft in the thickest part, which would be the neck, near the body.  (I also bake them ahead of time, peel them, and then freeze them, which amkes it easy to put together later.)

While the squash is baking, peel the ginger, garlic and onion, and dice, then sauté in the soup pan with a light flavored oil, such as canola.  Olive oil or sesame oil are too strongly flavored to use in this soup.

Saute til soft and transparent, then add the soup stock.  When the squash have cooled enough to peel, do so, and then add the chunks of squash to the onions and stock mix, and simmer for about 20 minutes, til they’ve further softened and blended.  At this point, either puree with a food processor, or using an immersion blender stick (I’ve just started using this, and it’s great for this job!)  When the soup is pureed, add the dollops of peanut butter, the lemon juice, the beans, the chili sauce, and the curry powder to taste, and allow to cook on low to medium temperature to blend the ingredients and the flavors.  Adjust thickness, and serve.  (When thicker, I’m told by others that this amkes a nice pasta sauce.)

I’m going to make croutons for this batch of soup, since I’ve got some old crusty bread. 

Enjoy!

Richard Aerni

Rochester, NY

 So, try it, and if you like it, pass it on.  But remember, like a glaze recipe, to give credit to the originator…Mikhail.   Now, my son is heading over for dinner tonight so I’ve got to get back to the stove.

Bon appetit!

 

How committed are you?

When I worked in partnership back in Cincinnati, Mike Frasca used to say at times “Don’t commit me, I’m already committed.”  He had a way of coming up with these little phrases that played on words and could be taken in a number of ways, but that tended to reflect some deeper truth of the situation.

I’ve been thinking of that phrase lately, and of our years together at the Spring Street Pottery.  We lived in a tough little neighborhood, in rough circumstances, and were often on the edge financially.  But we never let that get in the way of our progress in the studio.  We were committed to our craft, come hell or high water.  Well, it seems to me, based on all that I read and hear (incessantly, day after day), and have experienced in my shows of late, that we are heading for some tough times economically.  The next year or two are likely to test the mettle of those of us whose stock in trade are things not really necessary to get by in life.  How much do I, we, you, believe in what we’re doing?  Enough to say that we’re in it for the long haul?  Enough to stick to it no matter how tough it gets?

I came to the conclusion a few years ago (once and for all, I sincerely hope) that this is what I do, what I choose to do, no matter how slim the pickings get.  Let’s forget the fact that it’s all I’ve done for money for the past 30 years…forget that I’m not really trained in anything likely to pay me a living wage other than pots.  I choose this way of life, this path.  The reasons why I chose it 30 years ago are just as valid now as they were then.  The opportunity to craft my own lifestyle, to make things which I love, which reflect my values, and which go out in the world to have a meaningful conversation with their owners, is, to quote that ubiquitous TV commercial…priceless.

Making pots is a very grounding activity.  It isn’t done at warp speed.  It’s a human activity.  You must pay close attention to every phase of the process or all can go for naught.  You must, if you are serious and in this for all the marbles, bend your life around the exigencies of the studio. That makes it hard to get too separated from the things closest to you.  It’s a life based on a conception of time and place that no longer seems prevalent, or relevant in today’s world.   And that’s OK with me, because I think that today’s world is pretty unreal mostly, pretty inhumane.  I choose, I chose to be a potter because of many of the values inherent in it’s practice, not because I see myself as an artist with a voice that must be heard, or that’s what I was trained to do.  It’s a way of putting your money where your mouth is.

So, I guess I’ll be sticking with it, even if sales get slow and galleries no longer come calling.  I’ve learned how to live on very little over the years, and learned that a rich life is not about all the toys you possess or the things you control.  A rich life can be had for the price of an active mind and meaningful work.  So why try to fix it if it ain’t broke?

So, all of this ranting and raving might get you in the mind to urge me to seek counsel.  Don’t bother.  Remember, “don’t commit me, I’m already committed.”

Later…

Richard