Clay
Works
Ceramic and Fimo
Clay
Works
Ceramic and Fimo
Surprised by Life
A few years ago, I took a pinch pot class and took to the process immediately. One of our projects was to make a rattle by wrapping twine around a clump of clay. In goes the thumb to hollow out and push against the twine to make an interesting lumpy pattern. In the firing process, the twine burns off.I didn't finish my rattle at the class session and took it home. When I picked up the clay to work on it again, something (or someone or some spirit or some old goddess) possessed me to create this...this...thing! It's horrific, it's beautiful. Should I even gaze upon it?
Besides thinking "this isn't ME," I was transfixed by what came alive from the primeval mud. Perhaps you can't see the scars of roots/river/bloodveins to the bottom right. The little lines radiating around the eyes made it seem like this piece of mud was surprised to be enlivened. So I called it/she "Surprised by Life." An indentation at the back helps as a handhold, and tiny clay pieces locked inside make the rattle. Most people don't even want to hold it....me included!
Some day, I'll take a photo of The Impossible Pinchpot, a totally useless creation that's good for a half "wow," a shrug, and...that's about it! I call it that because was impossible (using the constraits I put upon myself) to even make it. You can buy it for $500 (obo).
Here it is...
Imagine, doing one thing perfect in your life...
and THIS is IT??Why this is impossible to make. As explained above, I started with a ball of clay. I stuck my thumb in one end and start to twist in a hole. Then, I push and work the clay with my thumb from the inside, pushing out the ball of clay against my other palm, which makes the object larger and the walls thinner.
What happens naturally in the pinch pot process is that the UPPER part of the hole soon gets very large and floppy (not only that, the edges tend to crack as the clay is forced to take on a larger shape)...which is why you see many lumpy pinch pot soup bowls and ash trays and very few narrow glasses or vases. The natural restrictions on making a pinch pot are limited by the length and narrowness of your hands and fingers. It is impossible to center a pinch pot as is possible on a fast spinning kick wheel. Since almost any dolt can make a lumpy, floppy bowl (let's face it, pretty ugly!...sorry, "earthy"), I decided to see how far I could take the process, with these additional restrictions:
- Shape must not only be narrow, it must come IN on the top.
- No slicing, folding over, or trimming any clay on the top to help it maintain its narrow shape.
- Centering clay only against the other hand or on a piece of paper on the tabletop.
- No hard maneuvers to force something into shape.
- Maintain equal thickness of clay wall throughout.
- Try for thin walls
- Use no tools. Only hands and a piece of paper to set the item on (it can turn on the table top that way).
- No patching or dabbing on extra clay to fill in lumps or holes.
Get the picture? So, I twist my thumb into the tennis ball size lump (get as centered as best possible early on). Then twisting the ball around on my thumb, work the inside into a larger barrel shape. Again, paying close attention to maintaining consistent wall thickness. The opening on top never got much larger than the thickness of my thumb, which is why it's such a small piece. Only my thumb could fit in it. At one point, I decided to make the top flat. With agonizing care, I miraculously pushed and pulled the clay into the center on the top. Soon, my thumb wouldn't fit, so I used smaller and smaller fingers. And at this point, you have nothing to push AGAINST, as before on the sides, where my thumb pushed against the clay, supported by my other hand. At the end, I was using only my little finger modeling clay that was dangling in space. When I got this far, there was no excess clay to trim off. (If you look, you'll see slight imperfections in the center hole.)Hope you appreciate this thing, this useless little whatever it is. It is a truly impossible creation. (Nature did help a little...the wet clay reduces a bit in drying and firing, so I had a tad more slack to work with when wet.)
I've made many small vases (as high as my hand) with these same restrictions. Whatever clay gets worked up the sides and over the top stays there. No trimming or patching allowed. I was in the spell of this process for a few months, and thought of making a craft career of it, but as each pot an hour or two to create, there was no commercial viability. Besides that, if the pot didn't come up into the groove, I started over. Only those who know the secrets and limitations of clay would appreciate something like this. Just looking at a piece on the shelf, one can't compare with the END product of a pinch pot with what's possible thrown on a wheel. Mission Impossible was glaze fired in a raku kiln. I'm still blown away by this piece, and I doubt I could make another if I tried a hundred years.
This clay sculpture was impressed from a plaster cast of my face. While others in the class transformed their images into wild African masks, later to be painted, I restrained myself. Out of necessity, the plaster face casts have a stillness about them, which came through in the clay. The only artsy embellishment is the hair at top, which I created by soaking the edge in water and eroding away the dissolved particles. Funny how that little voice chimes in and says, "You haven't done enough for this to be artistic." Uhh!
