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This glaze is absolutely driving me nuts!

Part of the pleasure of firing pots using the raku process lies with the unpredictability. A raku potter can control a number of things- these include:
  • chemistry of glaze
  • thickness and application texture of glaze
  • temperature, duration and intensity of the firing process
  • level of oxygen in the firing atmosphere
  • length, timing and intensity of post-fire reduction
However, there does seem to be some fey, gremlin-like entity at play. Two pots with the apparent same conditions can come out looking like changelings from some Kafka-esque nightmare.

So- having acknowledged the vagaries of raku- I still have say that this &**@# Egyptian blue glaze is in its own league in terms of willful lack of constraint.

At its best- it yields a mixture of vibrant reds and oranges, with copper bits... and then areas of sky blue where the glaze is abraded. The two views of the vase (below) are good examples, as is the shot of the 'bowling ball with breaking wave' piece (left).

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Unfortunately, it's very easy to over-reduce this glaze (as in this example). Not that I'm prejudiced against brick reds... but the ceramics world is crammed full of sweeping palettes infused with mud, rust, and other less discrete shades.

(I had a kid look at one of my pots once and yell 'that pot looks like pooooooooooo!')



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It's worth noting that when this glaze 'works' (as in the two top examples) the texture is very matte, almost sandstone-like. In contrast, the example on the left was fired at a comparatively high temperature for raku (maxing out at 1900 degree). The surface evokes the rough hide of a mutated scarab beetle, and looks like algal scum on a cow pond.

OK- that's a bit harsh... but it's definitely not the effect I'd like to see with this glaze. I do like the way that the example on the right 'flashed' on the rim of the carved mountain design (very sunset-like).

I've never been systematic enough with this glaze... but I have a few theories...
  1. I think that the 'weathered sandstone' texture stems from a lower firing temperature...
  2. I think that the complex color scheme stems from a fast, oxidized firing followed by a strong post-fire reduction
  3. I also theorized that the 'layered' appearance was linked to a thicker application of the glaze
The voucher pieces at the top of the page were both fired on a glorious summer day. High pressure system parked over Moscow, Idaho, and not a twitch from the west wind. The kiln raced to 1800 degrees. The pieces were reduced intensely (all the paper was consumed in the trash can) but not for very long.

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With this in mind, I tried to mimic these conditions at my last firing. Unfortunately, I tried to pull too early, and the glaze on the interior hadn't fully matured. I had to close the kiln, bring it back up to temperature. As a consequence, the glaze probably was subjected to a lot more heat work than I intended.

The first piece out was a classic 'algae delux' model... but not too unattractive. It also has more of the glassy texture than I wanted. Still- not unattractive.

The second, which was pulled sooner and reduced more intensely, had the same surface texture, but more of the blue highlights that I'm looking for (but without the reds and oranges). See below.



Anyhow, no definitive answers- rather, plenty to work on. Story of my life!

Here's the recipe, if you're interested in telling me what I'm doing wrong.

Egyptian Blue
Soda Ash                                   30.5
Lithium Carbonate                     8.5
EPK                                           22.5
Flint                                          38.5
Black Copper Oxide (added)       2.5
Bentonite                                  1.0


 
 
Well- I had a couple minor disasters emerge from the kiln. One fountain base oozed all over the shelf, It reminded me of some of my step-son's ill-advised experiments with banana slugs on Vancouver Island in '03. Another base (like the chalice base from the last entry) splintered. Big, gaping crack of doom just waiting for Smeagol.

Still- I can't complain too much, given the overall levels of success over the past couple weeks. Without too much commentary, here's the current batch.
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All of these guys are riffs off my original prototype from about a month back. Although it's the best basic design I've produced, the one thing I'd like to work toward in the future is a bit more asymmetry. Nature is not a symmetrical thing. Rivers wander and purl off into odd little crooks and kinks.

I've got some ideas for designs that should be a bit less tight-laced... but that's something for another day.

In the meantime, the planters continue to propagate. Here are some examples...

This little guy (about five inches in diameter at the rim) is more representational (less abstract) than some of my designs. I tend to like designs that are pared down and exaggerated.
This- of course- is an example of the basic grayling design that I like to endlessly tweak. I was selling at our local farmer's market this weekend, and a vender who was selling North African food observed that the eyes 'looked Egyptian'. Certainly, they don't look like a biologists take on a fish eye.

I should know- I dissected a ton of the things while teaching comparative vertebrate anatomy at WSU this past fall.
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This, of course, is a flip back to the representational. Ling cod (Ophiodon elongatus) are the most gloriously google-eyed, needle toothed little cutie-pies you're ever going to see outside of Sesame Street. They slither up from the depths looking like a snake hitched a ride on a frog's bum. 

I've never managed to get a good photo, unfortunately- my best mate Matt and his big rack of rockfish is the closest I've come. Check the late, great Kawika Chetron's website for a good image.

I have caught a few of these, but always let them go. They're too bloody cool to eat.

Actually, I almost feel that way about all fish.

From here on, just images, no chatter.

OK- I lied again. I need to comment on this planter- which is reduced to the hilt... but still has that nice little streak of oxidized turquoise underneath the Mahi-mahi's belly. The whims of raku strike again.
 
 
Raku pottery ceramics David Roon Kohaku River
Arctic Grayling.
Thymallus arcticus.

So- what is it about these humble salmonids that makes me put them in my designs over and over again?

First- there are some words that are inherently musical- but moreover, strike a highly personal but nebulous connection with individuals.

For example- J.R.R. Tolkien once wrote (in a linguistic essay) that the word combination ‘cellar door’ had a particularly lyrical musicality. , Annie Dillard (writer of ‘Pilgrim at Tinker Creek’) cited a poet friend (Rosanne Coggeshall) as giving the laurels to ‘sycamore’. I’m not sure I see eye to eye with Tolkien or Coggeshall on this- for me, ‘grayling’ is THE word of surpassing loveliness.  I think I first encountered the word in a Scottish children’s book, and I still recall the shivers that caressed my spine upon reading it.

Raku pottery ceramics David Roon Kohaku River
Raku pottery ceramics David Roon Kohaku River
_ This was long before I’d learned about the ‘Northernness’ of these fish- haunting cold, swift, clean Arctic waters (and one watershed in Montana, where they’re threatened with extirpation). Hunted by harbor seals and Arctic foxes, migrating anadromously to the dark slate waters of Hudson Bay.

Raku pottery ceramics David Roon Kohaku River
_ By the time I planned my first long Canadian river trip (the Seal River, 1994) these small fish, relatives of the whiting and dolly varden, had become a personal holy Grail.  (Insert clumsy ‘grailing’ pun at your discretion here).

I finally hooked into one 17 days into our trip. Grayling aren’t the fiercest fighters in the finned ranks, but when that fish's flaring dorsal fin cut the water, the falling sun shone through it, igniting flashes of turquoise, malachite and rose in the delicate tissue.

Raku pottery ceramics David Roon Kohaku River
_ I hated to kill it. I’ll never kill one again.

Grayling have since endured as one of my archetypal symbols of wildness.

 Some Japanese master potters would develop a personal, simplified design and paint it in glaze on vessel after vessel, finding beauty in slight variation, in the ‘Wabi-sabi’  that is only achievable through effortless grace. Soji Hamada- the great contemporary of Bernard Leach- was famous for this.

Raku pottery ceramics David Roon Kohaku River
_ I’ve taken to carving a simplified graying motif on many of my vessels. Note the paired images on the foot and hood of this lantern. Simple variations around the eyes, the structure of the fins, the tension in the lines of the tail... all of these things impact the 'feel' of each carving, while hewing to a uniform theme.

The textures and colors of Raku also evoke the stippling and transitory, shifting hues of a graylings flank... as does the very unpredictability of the Raku process.

Mind- I’d have to live a few lifetimes to walk in the footsteps of Soji Hamada, but between him and my beloved Thymallus arcticus, I feel like I’m covered on the inspiration end of things.