Update and Thoughts on Pitchers

Before & Now

Our house is slowly being put back together. Thank heavens we have another place to stay.

However

We will soon be tearing that up......but only partially. We've been planning a kitchen re-do for some years and finally, finally got down to it. Of course, practically the day we signed the contract was when the flood happened. So some fast reshuffling had to go on.

I must remember to take some before and after pictures.

Anyway

In reference to the previous post, I was thinking about pitchers. What makes a good pitcher?

I immediately thought about balance and function. First, a pitcher must feel right when you pick it up. It shouldn't be too small or too large depending on what you plan to put in it.

Almost goes without saying.

A pitcher must feel right when you pick it up--not too heavy on the bottom that you feel you cannot pour it without ease. A lot of that has to do with how high the handle sits on the body. Too low and it feels uncontrolable; too high and it feels like you cannot pour it all out. Luckily most pitchers are made well so the problem rarely comes up.

The handle should have as good heft to it, one that gives you the confidence that control will be easy.

The body must be big enough and light enough to hold the quantity of liquid needed. Nothing is worse than a pitcher that isn't large enough to contain all that you want in it.

And last, but most important, the spout must pour well. You must be able to aim the liquid to the target with confidence. Not too stingy; not too generous, the spout must also be designed to contain the liquid without the threat of spillage.

I've often wondered why pitchers have traditionally been made with no lid. Of course, fitting one would be tricky, but do-able. You would think keeping bugs out might be a good thing. Wine, fruit juice, beer--they all are attractive to bugs. The German beer mug is one example and the Mediterranean net-work cover is another, but an integrated lid just didn't seem to happen.

Some of the best examples of well-made pitchers are the old wash stand sets used in the age when indoor plumbing was absent. They were made of all shapes and adornments, designed to hold large quantities of hot water. And the decorative designs are legion.

Today, pitchers are not used that much. As a matter of fact, one show I was in brought a surprise when a very young child looked at a pitcher and asked his mom what it was. Juice boxes, canned drinks, milk cartons, plastic bottles have just about pushed the pitcher out of modern life.

Two Pitchers

More from my files:

I often wonder if pitchers are going to be a thing of the past. At one show I where I had a booth, a potter remarked to me that the younger generation hardly knows what they are.

If you think about it, we don't use pitchers nearly as much as earlier generations did.

Nearly all our liquids come in either plastic or cardboard-like boxes.

These two pitchers are literally worlds apart.

The Chinese one looks like castle walls, roof tiles, curly toed boots and heavy fur-lined coats. I find it interesting that the structure above the handle serves no purpose except decoration. The pitcher is solid. straightforward and no nonsense. I also like the idea of the lid.

The glaze is perfect for the form.

This pitcher is all elegance and practicality at the same time. It is designed to hold a lot of liquid.

The spout would certainly pour and do that generously. I'm guessing it is a large piece meant to hold water or a liquid that would be used liberally. It's primary use was probably for water.

The handle is hefty, yet very decorative. It's almost too light for the rest of the vessel. Because it is decorated in a reference to a dog head, I would guess it was made in either France or Germany, since both those countries used that motif in their handles.

The design touch of banding serves as to emphasize the wonderful curve of the pouring lip, the roundness of the body. What an elegant piece.

Charmer

Since I can't get to my studio to work, I thought I'd share a few pictures of pots I've grabbed off the web to dream over.*

This little gem comes with not much information. All the information is in what the eye can see.

It's either Japanese or made during the period of high influence from Japan and China. You can guess just by looking at it that it isn't large; it's probably very light in the hand.

It's interesting both in form and decoration. The piece probably was mold-made. It is more than likely porcelain and has an applied lid knob and handle. The triangular shape is unique.

Two things tip you off to know it's made in the East: The side-mount handle and the spout, which hearkens to saki-pot pourers.

Just look at that glaze design! Almost like someone had taken glue and layered the pot with fine brocade. And what a sensitive bounce of bluish white and dark navy. That fine white line all around the rim sets off and calls attention to the triangular shape. A sensitive design element that adds grace to the pot.

How I would love to handle this pot. To turn it over and see what the base looks like, what clay was used, to try pouring out of it. (Although you already know it would do an excellent job with nary a drip.)

What an inspiration to use for shape and decoration.

*If you have a Mac, it's easy to click on a jpeg, drag it to the desktop, let it go. It will sit there waiting to be opened or drug into another folder to be stored for later viewing. I usually re-name the file as a memory aid, or if I know who made the piece, the artist's name.

Yee Gods!

From this:

To this:

Our osmosis water treatment unit under the sink sprung a roaring leak and the entire house was flooded up to the door sills.

The carpet and pad soaked it up like a sponge.

The yardman noticed our side patio door porch was wet and went to take a look. Then called us.

We don't know how long the leak had been going on, but enough to damage the walls and furniture.

We have a wonderful insurance company who immediately called a disaster rescue company who arrived with about 5 trucks, big pumps, fans, dehumidifiers and went to work moving all the furniture to the center of the rooms, removing soaked carpet and, when the dryness reading was reached, started tearing out the walls up to about 3-3 1/2 feet. (In the second picture, you can see from the dining area into the kitchen through the bottom of the wall.)

All, I mean all, of the cabinets in the house had to go as well as the doors--except the outside ones for now. All of the closets and storage areas had to have the bottom shelves and built-up floors removed.

So, for the past week, we have been dealing with insurance contractors, first in damage control and now in trying to figure out how to put everything back together.

Some furniture can be saved. We're in the process of working with a restorer/estimator who will take the fixable back to his workshop and start work on putting it back to new. My great barrister's bench, which is mahogany, will probably survive. As will the safari chairs and end tables. (we think). My lounge chair and the office chairs will make it.

Our very clever hide-a-bed cabinet delaminated and the mattress is toast. The front of this chest folded down to reveal a folded-up twin bed. I'll not find another one like this. And, I'm afraid the Chinese Chippendale chairs may have split legs.

An antique Empire red oak drop-leaf table is standing in the family room looking very drunk. Legs splayed like a poleaxed oxen. I think it's done for.

Our office furniture is ruined, but the paper in the files survived. The beds are all okay, since they are on high metal legs. But our bedroom furniture didn't make it.

We just put new drapes in the family room and bedroom.

And my little Featherweight Singer carrying case with it's custom card table were on the floor of the guest bedroom. They may be a loss.

My studio was virtually untouched. All the books survived as did my pictures and prints. The Christmas decorations were all in a big plastic tub. My quilts are okay. The family room sofa and chair as well as the end tables seem to be okay.

But--

Nobody died; nobody got hurt.

And it's just stuff, after all.

And our insurance with either restore it or replace it. So in the end, we're lucky. It was worth all those years of premiums.

And guess what. I not only 'get' to to a complete kitchen renovation, I get TWO kitchens and a whole house.

(Um, all the bathroom cabinets have to be replaced too.)

Paint chips.....floor tile..... granite counters.... cabinet doors ....This is going to be my life for quite a while, I think.

Kitchen Renovation

Note: This is not my kitchen.

What do you do when you want to renovate your kitchen?

The first rule before you do anything else is: Know Thyself.

Before jumping in, take a very long think and decide what your cooking style is. Ask yourself what kind of cook you are - how you work your kitchen and how you want your kitchen to work for you.

If you're like me, you've been saving pictures of kitchens for a long time, dreaming of sailing around in your gleaming domain, giving something a stir or hauling a delectable symphony of roasted things out of the oven.

But then

You must be ze detached, calculating Hercule Poirot and analyze how your kitchen works just for you. What kind of a cook are your? A baker? A vegetarian is always working between the 'fridge and the sink? A cookbook librarian with shelves and shelves of cookbooks? Someone who buys lots of vegetables and needs a big crisper storage area in your refrigerator? Or you like to make meals ahead and freeze them? Do you cook on the fly just throwing things together?

Do you bake a lot? if so, are you tall or short? (Stiff or limber, I might add) At what height do you visualize opening an oven door and hauling out a turkey?

I am a baker (who happens to be short. There's a joke in there somewhere.) and when we went to look at stoves at Sears, I visualized lifting my much-loved, giant pro baking pan out of an oven. Honestly, some ovens on some stoves are so low, you feel like you would have to be on your hands and knees to get something out of there. You might as well kiss your back goodbye some Thanksgiving.

On the other hand, some wall ovens are mounted so high, I couldn't see into them well enough to know if something was done let alone maneuver around enough to haul anything out.* I'd need to stand on a step or something and that's not a good idea.

I know I could have an oven mounted especially low, but then just about all the storage space above and below would have to be special ordered and even then, whatever I put in the above area or the below areas would be practically dead space. So that's a waste. And boy, do I hate waste.

*I used to have a big block of wood next to my tall kiln to stand on in order to reach the bottom for loading and unloading. I had visions of my husband coming out to the studio after hearing my yells to see only my feet sticking up in the air out of the top. Now I have a 'shorty' Skutt.

Why oh why don't they make wall oven doors that ratchet upwards like a car hatchback, out of the way so you can reach right into them? Instead, you must fetch from one side of the oven or the other and rotate the dishes out to a heat-proof surface.

I did find to my surprise that I liked one particular stove with two ovens--the large oven just below the cooktop and a shorter, smaller one nearly on the floor. I reasoned that the heavy stuff would be high enough to remove comfortably and the smaller oven would work well for smaller things. Lifting small pans and dishes from nearly floor level would be easy. (Great for proofing bread, Yea.)

And, of course, for artists, looks are important. We 'see' everything. And if you're like me, you see it every time. The room you walk into and work in a good deal of the time needs to please your eye.

So the upshot of this tirade is this: Figure out what your 'Style' is; aesthetically and operationally and then start looking and looking and looking and looking and looking.......

Time Out

Well.

It's been a while.

I haven't done any clay work because we're in the throes* of all-consuming kitchen renovation planning. Ugh!

*The other day I saw that someone wrote 'throws'. Maybe that's right after all.

Decisions, decisions. My head is spinning with cabinet fronts, appliance specs, electrical wiring layouts, blueprints, estimates, etc.

We have spent 3 days, so far looking at humongous slabs of granite, soapstone, marble. How do you balance beauty and practicality?

Like the Mud Lady in the mop ad, I stuck to a beautifully undulating-patterned, buttery sea of slab of marble. Going back to look at my kitchen brought me back down to reality and I realized it was infatuation, not a marriage. I'd still like to live with that slab of rock in my house. It was beautiful. But soapstone it will be for the countertops.

So be warned, fair reader, I will probably subject you to the agony and the ecstasy of renovation.

Thinking with your Hands

Making pottery is like thinking with your hands.

There's this almost mythic connection between a part of your mind that commands your hands and touch and that place in your head where you daydream.

The brain shifts into neutral--like coasting.

A free-floating, altered, but intuitive state--almost self-hypnosis.

Is it shifting into Alpha Brain waves?

Is meditation the same kind of state? Like driving down long, boring freeway, looking at the ribbon of asphalt laid out to the horizon?

Or like standing a steam-filled shower--just you and the water drumming on your back--and you're just there; Being?

Throwing clay: Your hands and your mind suspended in a dream. That's when you make magic.

Another Experiment

This is another totally experimental piece.

It's almost impossible to photograph.

It started out to be a trivet or small square dish.

I was thinking Japanese pavilions and made these fanciful fly-away legs just for fun.

The underside tells the story with little buttons at the corners to keep their shape.

The glaze did not behave well.....it bubbled and bloomed.

I don't care, though. This piece amuses me every time I see it.

Being Loose

Sometimes, when it doesn't count, when there's no pressure, when it's "Let's just see what happens"....... wonderful things can happen.

That's just what happened with this little trivet.

I was busy teaching myself how to throw an upside-down trivet.

I made essentially a bowl with an exaggerated bottom that was thicker than usual. I extended bottom rim and brought up the sides and turned the top edge outward, making a convex shape.

I let it sit on the batt until it was dry enough to take off. I turned it over, trimmed the (now) top to recess the surface and create a slightly higher rolled edge.

Then I cut into the sides of the bowl to make 4 feet, rolled worms to support them and let the whole thing dry.

It warped slightly during the bisque firing, but I kept it for a test piece anyway.

I dipped it in white glaze, dipped a big brush into watered down cobalt stain and just let the brush dance. I was thinking Sandy Brown. http://www.sandybrownarts.com/sandybrownarts.htm

During the firing, the stain went nuts. It popped all over the place making a lightly dotted patterns all over the white glaze.

Lessons learned.

Give a piece strong enough legs so it won't warp in the bisque firing.

Don't use straight cobalt stain.

It's possible to throw a trivet upside down with little trimming and alteration.

Big brushes and a fast and loose application makes a piece that comes alive.

Shows

Sometimes, when you're doing a show and you've set up your booth, when the doos open and the customers come in, the cosmos come into alignment.

The right work is sitting in your booth and the right customer appears and snaps it up.

Hallelujah!

This is exactly what happened with this salt and pepper.

You can almost see them coming. They zero right in on the item, scoop it up, don't quibble about the price.

This is a golden moment.

Don't let that customer escape. Talk to them while you wrap up and bag the item. Don't hurry.

You want to know this person. Find out why they like what they bought. How they plan to use it. Try to establish a rapport; a relationship. This is someone who 'gets' you and your work.

Gently suggest they join your mailing list. Let them know about your next show. Make sure they get your card and contact information. Invite them to your studio, if it's feasible

Maybe slip a little "Thank You" into the bag in the form of a small spoon rest, a coupon for 10% off, any little something that will be a surprise when they get home and open the bag. You want them to tell their friends about the piece they bought and the wonderful potter who made it.

Add them to your customer list when you get home.

Put a star by their name.

You want to see that person again.