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Functional objects
Oct. 28th, 2023 07:09 amI've been making pottery at home for a couple months now. Setting up the wheel at home made a huge difference to my skill level. Before that, going maybe once a week to the studio in the summer, I could play but there's a lot I couldn't do. Not just in how long I had and how infrequently I could practice the skills of throwing, but also how I can now work on the thrown pots at specific stages in their drying. I used to hate trimming pots, for instance, but now that I can choose the moisture level I trim at it's so much easier. Adding handles becomes possible - they won't stick when the piece is too dry.
So I got to play around with lots of skills, and I'm slowly learning how to get the clay to do technical things. That's not why I do this, though.
Pots -- cups and bowls -- I made are now finished glazing. I can use them, and I make a point to do so. When they get home I put them in the dishwasher and then on the counter and I'll grab one anytime I need a mug or a bowl. I drink water out of them and tea; I heat up my leftovers in the microwave.
Finally these objects aren't an idea, but instead the interactive human tool that pottery has always been. I cup them in my hands, hot or cold, and press my lips against the rim. I balance them on a plate when carrying them around. I swirl a spoon around the inside and scrape out the last bits, or I stir and listen to the sound of the spoon tinkling against the thin layer of interior glass.
More often than you might think I stare into them and experience pleasure.
It's extraordinary and wonderful how we infuse the practical and necessary with joy. Decorating our environment goes back and back and back. It's part of us. And these mugs, these bowls, they are a search for what can bring me the most joy according to my personal aesthetic. I use them and marvel at the sandy red clay contrasting with smooth glossy green or blue or white glaze, at the way colours swirl and mix within that glaze, at the contrast of food and colour or, in one notable instance, the perfect match between my hot chocolate and the glaze of its mug.
But more than visual this is functional. Joy comes too from how each piece is fitting to its use, to my body, to what it's containing. It comes from the way a curve fits into my hand, and I learn when the curve is just a little bigger than I can thoughtlessly lift without the crutch of a handle, or when I grip a mug by the rim because there is no cooler handle to hold. I learn when a round belly shapes into a narrow neck and my hand sits there and enjoys extra texture or friction: snakes of smooth glaze against sandy raw clay or rough texture from tearing that clay up carefully with tools. I learn when a bowl with a flared rim can be easily held between two fingers, one on the foot and one on the rim, but one with an inward-curved rim feels like it needs to be cupped beneath.
I learn when a cup fits in my cup holder in the truck and when it doesn't. I appreciate the heat retention and capacity of a big flared belly on a mug, and the heat retention and easy sipping from a smaller mouth.
Just as with clothing something made by me for me is a wholly different experience than using something mass-produced. Function, aesthetics, and meaningful engagement of thought all suit me. I'm not sure I can describe what a difference that makes. Nothing is just an object anymore. It's an extension of my body and my mind, and also a point in an iterative process. There's tension in the ceramics community about art vs craft but the satisfying part of this for me is the craft, is making something suited both to a person and a use and getting better at that.
It doesn't hurt that I'm making things I see as beautiful.
I still haven't hit my goal of pulling a cylinder as tall as a big slurpee cup but I'm getting closer. I enjoy the general shape of a travel mug but with curves currently, and also small round egg-shaped ones with lips that fit into my hands.
The shape of bowl I love I've known for a long time and I'm getting better at executing it larger too.
I love making those things and so more useful things, perhaps, lids and cat food dishes and ramekins have been going unmade. Eventually I'll think of how to make them beautiful and they'll get made. Likewise when I'm scooping sugar or oatmeal or cat food, or when I'm sipping from a spoon, I feel the lack of intention in the items I'm using but I don't yet know how to make exactly the forms I want or even what exactly real function would look like in those situations. I've noticed a small heart bowl is a lovely scoop, thumb in the indentation on the top of the heart and fingers cradling the bottom and a pouring spout from the point at the far end.
I'm clearly engaged in this right now and I enjoy it. Now I need to figure out how to get rid of all these objects I'm making so I have room for more, hopefully I can trade them for money for more materials.
So I got to play around with lots of skills, and I'm slowly learning how to get the clay to do technical things. That's not why I do this, though.
Pots -- cups and bowls -- I made are now finished glazing. I can use them, and I make a point to do so. When they get home I put them in the dishwasher and then on the counter and I'll grab one anytime I need a mug or a bowl. I drink water out of them and tea; I heat up my leftovers in the microwave.
Finally these objects aren't an idea, but instead the interactive human tool that pottery has always been. I cup them in my hands, hot or cold, and press my lips against the rim. I balance them on a plate when carrying them around. I swirl a spoon around the inside and scrape out the last bits, or I stir and listen to the sound of the spoon tinkling against the thin layer of interior glass.
More often than you might think I stare into them and experience pleasure.
It's extraordinary and wonderful how we infuse the practical and necessary with joy. Decorating our environment goes back and back and back. It's part of us. And these mugs, these bowls, they are a search for what can bring me the most joy according to my personal aesthetic. I use them and marvel at the sandy red clay contrasting with smooth glossy green or blue or white glaze, at the way colours swirl and mix within that glaze, at the contrast of food and colour or, in one notable instance, the perfect match between my hot chocolate and the glaze of its mug.
But more than visual this is functional. Joy comes too from how each piece is fitting to its use, to my body, to what it's containing. It comes from the way a curve fits into my hand, and I learn when the curve is just a little bigger than I can thoughtlessly lift without the crutch of a handle, or when I grip a mug by the rim because there is no cooler handle to hold. I learn when a round belly shapes into a narrow neck and my hand sits there and enjoys extra texture or friction: snakes of smooth glaze against sandy raw clay or rough texture from tearing that clay up carefully with tools. I learn when a bowl with a flared rim can be easily held between two fingers, one on the foot and one on the rim, but one with an inward-curved rim feels like it needs to be cupped beneath.
I learn when a cup fits in my cup holder in the truck and when it doesn't. I appreciate the heat retention and capacity of a big flared belly on a mug, and the heat retention and easy sipping from a smaller mouth.
Just as with clothing something made by me for me is a wholly different experience than using something mass-produced. Function, aesthetics, and meaningful engagement of thought all suit me. I'm not sure I can describe what a difference that makes. Nothing is just an object anymore. It's an extension of my body and my mind, and also a point in an iterative process. There's tension in the ceramics community about art vs craft but the satisfying part of this for me is the craft, is making something suited both to a person and a use and getting better at that.
It doesn't hurt that I'm making things I see as beautiful.
I still haven't hit my goal of pulling a cylinder as tall as a big slurpee cup but I'm getting closer. I enjoy the general shape of a travel mug but with curves currently, and also small round egg-shaped ones with lips that fit into my hands.
The shape of bowl I love I've known for a long time and I'm getting better at executing it larger too.
I love making those things and so more useful things, perhaps, lids and cat food dishes and ramekins have been going unmade. Eventually I'll think of how to make them beautiful and they'll get made. Likewise when I'm scooping sugar or oatmeal or cat food, or when I'm sipping from a spoon, I feel the lack of intention in the items I'm using but I don't yet know how to make exactly the forms I want or even what exactly real function would look like in those situations. I've noticed a small heart bowl is a lovely scoop, thumb in the indentation on the top of the heart and fingers cradling the bottom and a pouring spout from the point at the far end.
I'm clearly engaged in this right now and I enjoy it. Now I need to figure out how to get rid of all these objects I'm making so I have room for more, hopefully I can trade them for money for more materials.
