<- Previous Page Next Page ->

"The Queen of Clay announces its limits like a prima donna, white and bitchy and sensuous. There's nothing fancy about porcelain technique. The clay is composed of natural materials, but it is not dug up out of the earth as are other clays; it has to be made. Jealously guarded recipes for porcelain have existed since the eighth century, but I just buy mine in a bag. A piece will warp, crack, and shrink up to ten per cent--and usually in the final firing after most of the work has been done...."

(Image: A Journal of the Arts & Religion, #33, Spring 2002, p.82)

     People often ask about my technique and materials. The clay I use is Grolleg porcelain, mixed by Armadillo Clay Co. in Austin. My studio is very small, overlooking a forest and creek through three sliding glass doors (the picture on here is a 360 degree shot, making the space look huge). I just got a larger Skutt electric kiln so I won't have to jiggle big pieces of greenware across town to be fired. The studio shelves are lined with my muses--all the props that have served as models for my work. People often ask if I "dip these things" in slip, or if they are buried in the clay. Nope, and I don't use molds or armatures. The clay is just rolled out and formed. Timing is important because porcelain dries quickly. Plastic helps. Each piece is one-of-a-kind; I'm not into making multiples or even similar pieces, because the unpredictable changes that occur during the making can't be repeated without a stale result. Plus, I have far too many ideas lined up and begging for attention.

     My best tip to artists: keep track of your ideas and things you learn and then index them. I carry a sketchbook everywhere and jam it full of lecture notes, journaling, pictures, scraps of paper, drawings, poems, etc. Then I compulsively cross-index it under scads of sub-headings that I invent as needed. I've indexed fifty sketchbooks now, and the index itself is an unwieldly, messy, fat notebook. But it is a continual source of fortuitous connections and serves my absent-minded brain very well.

     The bisqueware is painted with matte underglazes, glazes, overglazes and metallics, all pre-mixed, mainly by Amaco and Mayco. I don't trace or use decals to copy a masterpiece because I enjoy the meditative practice of copying (it is like ingesting the work, and I get to know it well). Underglazes handle like quick-drying tempera paint. It is a challenge to get the color nuances with underglaze, as most colors fire differently than they go on. At least two firings are necessary--this clay bisques at Cone 06 and vitrifies at Cone 6 (that is 2232 degrees F, very hot!) Often I'll do another Cone 06 and a low 019 for metallics (which smell to high heaven). Occasionally the color is still too dull, and I may have to cheat and use acrylic to heighten some areas. But this prevents the risk of cracking during another firing. If I have to cheat and use glue, plaster or grout to repair a crack or breakage, I'll gladly do that too. After all, it is sculpture, not something you eat off of.