Saturday, October 3, 2026

Stacks: Troubleshooting & Testing


the blue experimental piece next to its younger friends in my living room

Besides some clay body tests that I made earlier this year and finished in summer, I also have a couple of stacked (tall) sculptures I've been trying to finish from last summer. They are all more complicated in form and surface than the one's I've written about most recently.

the blue stack in my studio

Last summer, just one of my big pieces didn't develop a crack in the bottom edge. This may have been because it was shorter than the others, or because the bottom edge curves from a narrower bottom to a wider swelling slightly lifted off the floor.

the photo I submitted to Larson Gallery

However, because of how I built it in sections (one base with a split, then two separate sections that stack on top of that split), I wasn't confident that the stacked sections were stable enough to be showing in a gallery without extra reinforcement. I entered the work into the Central Washington Artists Exhibition at Larson Gallery last fall before thinking about how to address stability.

the first or second or third of an uncounted number of paint matching trials

After the piece was accepted into the show, I realized that I was pretty worried about it getting bumped in the gallery in such a way that the top pieces might fall off. So I decided to attach them permaenently. The epoxy I used showed through the seams and I tried (and initially failed) to match the color and texture of the underglaze on the surface of the epoxy.

the work in the Gallery (they need new lights)

My shortened time frame and color matching error led to an intense week of trying and failing to match colors and textures with various paints, fillers, and other materials. I got a lot of help from my colleague and friend, Kayo Nakamura, who helped me understand the differt ways acrylic paint and underglaze act when layered. Basically, the way I work with underglaze is opposite to the way I needed to work with acrylic.

pieces of 7 tall pieces in progress in my studio this summer

Probably because I didn't get ahead of myself with applications for the other two pieces, they are both still sitting in my studio unfinished. Both are a lot closer than they were at the start of the summer, but a combination of procrastination and not knowing how to start moved them down the priority list for most of the year and a chunk of the summer. If I had a hard deadline, I might have made different decisions about surfaces, but I wanted to try some new things with these two, and those new things have been slow.

the unfinished orange form zip tied together for my Labor Day open studio in 2025

I finished the forms, firing, and underglaze on both pieces last summer. At some point, in the fall of last year, I repaired the cracks (these were done before I switched clay bodies). I also tried to match the underglaze colors and textures with paint, which was better because of my work with Kayo on the one above, but still slow and annoying for someone used to underglaze.

The bottom stacks secure without zip ties


I had big post-firing plans for both of these that were delayed by the cracking and need for repair. For the orange piece, the balance became an additional challenge, as the wiggly sections were holding up ok when they were wet, but once fired, they are less stable and need some help to be supported. I've now epoxied two sections together, but I can't permanently attach all four if I want to be able to move this big guy.

planning for the surface of the orange piece

The original plan was to attach a set of bowls and bulbs into each of the large holes. Those I made and successfully added quite a while ago, but my plan for the small ones keeps changing. I was still playing with a few alternatives at the end of summer. 

the planned-ahead additions to the orange piece, attached

At the end of summer and into the start of the fall quarter, I have (finally) committed to a form and have been making and underglazing these complicated little additions that are based (loosely) on some barnacles that captured my attention this summer when we went tidepooling in Northern California.

barnacles in process--some just bisqued, others just underglazed

I intially tried to make a mold for these little guys, but they're fairly complex and my willingness to fuss with or commit to good mold making is apparently less than my willingness to handmake 60 individual barnacles by hand. One can devote a lot of attention to an audiobook or streaming series while handmaking 60 matching handbuilt form, whereas this one needs a lot of attention to make a good mold.

the green teardrop form with first paper pieces attached

The other year's long piece I started last summer and am only slowly inching towards completion is a piece on which I wanted to try two new to me techniques. And the story is so much sillier and more complicated than it needed to be, honestly.

do not read this book

I found this turrrible book about Cancer in a little free library right when I was finishing my radiation and treatment. The book is literal garbage, but worse than that, it was clearly heavily used as a resource by its previous owner.  The book has a lot of crap in it about how modern medicine is lying to us about why cancer happens, blah blah blah. Your cancer is your fault, you had bad thoughts and ate the wrong things and, oh I hate it some much!

cut pages from the terrible book after dyeing

But this book was heavily highlighted and underlined. Almost every page of the book had been marked up by someone emphasizing the frankly toxic opinions of the author. I knew, as soon as I opened the book, that I could not allow this book to stay in ciruculation because it could literally harm someone.  Chemo, surgery, radiation have saved my life. Modern medicine has saved my nephew's life. If someone with cancer read this book and eschewed modern medicine for the book's recommendations, it could literally kill them.

the paper layers in progress

But I also didn't want to just throw the book away. I wanted to use the physical material to bring attention to the problem in how we talk about cancer and modern medicine. Just the other week, I encountered someone saying that mammograms are cruel and made uncomfortable to trick women. An earlier mammogram might well have saved me weeks of agressive treatment, but I didn't get my first until I was 41, AFTER I had found my lump on my own. 

more layers of paper

There is so much mistrust of good medicine and I've wanted to address it in my work and I just don't know how to get at it. This book became a way I wanted to try. I initially played around with using the highlighted pages as a simple paper layer on my work, like I've done with colored handmade paper, but I didn't like how it looked.

this work table has been a sticky mess of glue and paper for so long

My next approach was to cut the paper into decorative shapes which I could then layer onto the surface. I like the complexity of the pattern, but the stark white paper wasn't working for me, so I ended up dying it with tea and a couple of kinds of paint. I didn't want to lose the text, but I also didn't want it to be highly legible.

several works in progres in my studio, late summer

I eventually ended up layering the cut paper over the surface and I'm fairly happy with the visual result, though I think the message has pretty much been subsumed into pattern and texture. I've also been spending so much time with it, that I don't have any perspective. I think I need to get it finished, give it a bit, and then come back to it with a critical eye.

the top of the cancer book paper piece has different paper shapes (from the same book)

When I built the form, I added these tear drop (or blood drop) shapes onto the surface. I honestly can't remember where my mind was. I think there was some part of me that, ironically, though these large forms with simple surface would be easier to finish after firing, which turned out to be the farthest thing from the truth, as I've been working and reworking them for months now.

flocking in progress on the middle section

I also wanted to try flocking. If Past Rachel had a time machine, she would tell Future Rachel to absolutely not do flocking. I like the surface, when it works, but hate the process and the surface is way more fragile than I need it to be.

flocking that worked well

I do like the color and texture results, again, when they work, but the studio is absolutely covered in tiny red dust. I've run out twice. I screwed up surfaces by not testing sufficiently before applying, and I feel like I've got so many done that I kind of have to finish now. Never again.

one of the many things I learned about flocking which also make me hate it

So the status now is that I've learned a lot, I guess. I've made some work that I will be happy to sell (so I don't have to see it anymore), and two of these three aren't even done yet. I've told myself I would absolutely be done with the flocking this week, no this week, no this week, but here I am, off to buy more flocking powder. Then there will be an intense studio cleaning session before flocking powder leaves my life forever. 



Tuesday, August 18, 2026

Stacks: Testing Clay Bodies, Paint, Underglaze, and Papers

painted sprigs awaiting wiping and paper

After discovering that the increased scale of my stacked sculptures was causing cracking, I decided to test some alternate clay bodies under basically the same conditions. I created several similarly sized stacking forms, each out of a different clay body. I used paper for each one and glaze for the ones that did not crack in the first firing.

the three part stack with one type of sprig

I was happy with the amber paper and paint stack I finished last summer, so I decided to make similar forms for my tests, with areas for paper and other areas of sprigged textures. I complicated things by switching clay providers (because we were near Seattle and not near Tacoma for a trip) and making relatively minor some adjustments in my building methods. 

this piece cracked during drying

Throughout the years, since at least 2002, most of my sculpture has been built with coil and pinch methods. I use press molds for my bulbs and sprigged textures and I throw functional pieces on the wheel, but for most of that time, forms of any size have been primarily coil built. The biggest exception was the stacks I threw for the faculty show, Dust, in 2024. 

extruded coils being used for the building of one of the stacks

For most of my work, I have used rough coils shaped by hand, because they are fast and easy to make and use. However, for these large stacks, I extruded coils in order to maintain consistent wall thickness

my extruder with a long string of coil being readied for building

In the past, I've generally felt that the time it takes to set up the extruder, prepare the clay, extrude, then clean the extruder before building is not worth the hassle. With these tall stacks, because they are so big, and because I was trying to test the material strenth, I decided to start extruding my coils. The added effort of the extruding process is balanced by the amount of coils I use in one sitting. 
I tried out a new type of visible gallery for the top seam


The extruded coils allow me to build fast and since these pieces are large, I have been using about 75lbs of clay for "one" stack of three pieces. At this scale, the time spent extruding is a smaller percentage of the time spent building. It feels worth it to extrude coils, and they have the added advantage of consistency and speed (once the extruding is done).

because these pieces are so large, I start them on a counter, then lower them progressively to a stoll and then the floor

In response to the earlier cracks, besides testing clay bodies, I also started using thicker extruded coils for the first two or three levels of the base. Since most of my cracks were happening (or starting) in the bottom edge of the bottom section, I figured extra thickness here could help. I also started flipping my forms over after those first 2-3 rows to compress the bottom edge with a rib, before flipping the base right side up again to continue building.

the one-sprig piec with half a layer of acrylic paint

The clay bodies I tested were designed for sculpture and had either added grog (ground fired clay) or paper to help with strength and shrinkage control. Two of the three or four clay bodies I tested still cracked, which left me with a couple of options for clays that are working. Ironically, my daughter will be starting college at Lewis and Clark in Portland, meaning I probably need to test some sculpture clays from Georgie's in Portland if I want to save on shipping costs over the next 4 years.

the first gouache layer on the piece on the right, a paper mache and paper pulp experiement on a mold behind it

Of the two test pieces I made with sprigged sections and smooth sections for paper, one cracked and two didn't. I glazed the ones that didn't crack, but used acrylic and gouache for the one that did (the second cracked one is being used as a mold, to be discussed in a later post). I wanted to try some different colors of paper, so I bought some banana paper which worked fine, but the colors aren't as nice as the amber kozo paper I used last summer.

the base of the painted sprig piece while paper was being added

I used the underglazes much like I always do and am happy with them, but they don't contrast quite as nicely with the paper. I think the color contrast, as well as the texture contrasts worked particular well with the amber pieces from last summer.

the first layer of underglaze before firing

Lots of factors besides the paper color imapcted the finished pieces. For this year's painted stack, I used almost all the same shape of sprigs, which, with the less vibrant paper color, resulted in a more subdued form. I like the form on it's own, but I need to make an effort to get a well-lit picture that does it justice. 

the first layer of underglaze after firing

Additionally, I didn't realize that the metallic gouache paints that I used sparingly in the amber stack did quite as much to add some texture and shine to the piece. I was worried they might be overkill and thus didn't use any this time around.

the base with the second underglaze layer, fired glaze, and paper

For the glazed pieces, I have one that has a variety of different sprigs within each section, like last summer's amber stack. The other several different sections that each have the same sprig and color scheeme, separated vertically by smooth glazed sections.

the newest stacks (which no longer fit in my studio) waiting for a good quality photo sometime

Honestly, seeing all four of these stacks together makes me want to make even more pieces like these in future. I have several more stacks in progress, with no cracks and more complicated forms. I also just bought an additional 250lbs of clay, so I plan to start some new pieces next week, after we drop off the kid at college. The goal is that all of these end up in the faculty show in January 2027.

Saturday, August 15, 2026

Stacks: Blue and Amber, Paint and Paper

I've been busy in the studio this summer, but as I sat down to chronicle my progress, I looked back to see when I last published a blog post about my works in progress and realized that I haven't tracked a bunch of my recent (or less recent) work here at all.

two sections of this sculpture, nearly ready to stack


The last time I wrote about my big work was before the Labor Day weekend show last summer. And that work wasn't even finished when I posted. I did finish that work, and may have shared images on social media, around the time of the show. 

painting in process, summer 2025 (RIP Cali)

I know I photographed the tallest piece during the show, because I had help getting it set up. I also had an audience of friends when a gust of wind blew into the photo backdrop, which blew into the sculpture, knocking the top of it off the sculpture and onto the sidewalk where it smashed. 

Disappointing photographic results from shortly before the backdrop crash

I had to take a little break because of how much I liked the piece and how upset I was that it broke. (I was also mad at myself because I had taken out the internal support that would have prevented disaster.) 

cracked top section, awaiting repair

I later repaired it and it now has putty and an interior support helping prevent similar accidents in the future. It is also helps that I keep it inside, away from weather and the risk of wind-borne paper backdrops.

close up of the section needing epoxy, paint, and paper repair

The irony is that this piece was unusual, compared to my other work, and had taken me a long time to finish, because it was already broken before I started adding color. As I started building these stacks (there were more in progress that summer), I found that they were cracking at an unusually high rate. 

the finished sculpture stack drying before firing

Because of the size constraints of my kiln, this stack was built in three pieces. My kiln has an interior space of about 25" in heights, so I had no way to fire a sculpture that is taller than I am (I estimate it is about 5'5", but I'm too lazy to go find a tape measure). Of course it was a bit taller before firing, since clay shrinks from wet to dry and during firings.

top and bottom sections in the kiln, ready to fire

Instead, I built the "stack" in three sections with galleries inside to help secure each piece the one below it. The width of the bottom edge is nearly as wide as the interior of my kiln, and the height of each section, including the gallery, is less than 26" wet. The first part of engineering these pieces went well, but my clay wasn't up to the task.

crack in the bottom section after bisque firing

The increased size and/or weight of the stacked clay was too much for this clay body, leading to cracking in the bottom edge of the piece. Usually I fire several times to achieve my preferred surfaces, starting with a bisque firing, followed by a firing after the first layers of underglaze, then one more firing for the second layers of underglaze and any glaze. The last firing is usually just a bit hotter than the first two. 

starting the acrylic paint layer (maybe I should have just dry brushed the whole thing and saved a zillion hours)

However, bringing the clay or ceramic up above 1800 degrees stresses the material. That's usually not a problem, but the base of this stack already had a weak point and I didn't want to risk the crack getting worse from repeated firings. Instead, I made two adjustments. For this piece, I decided to use a "cold finish" meaning I wouldn't fire it. And for future stacks, I bought several different types of clay to build test pieces to see what clay I could use to build big without cracking.

all those little gaps in the paint because of the background texture

The clay testing is another story for another day, but to finish this piece, I used paint and paper in place of underglaze and glaze. Since I am so accustomed to both glaze and underglaze materials and my own particular techniques for highlighting textures, I had to ask my painting instructor friends for advice on what paints to use to achieve the results I wanted. 

first layer of gouache in the background

Upon their advice, I ended up using both acrylic and gouache for the paint. I coated the whole piece with blue acrylic paint. It was tricker than I anticipated to get the paint into the background textures of the sprigged surface. 

different gouache colors on different sprig shapes


The acrylic dries quickly and doesn't wash away with water, just like the fired layers of underglaze I usually start with. Next I added gouache over the top of the acrylic with the idea that it would wipe away just like the unfired layer of underglaze. 

gouache layer wiped (on the left) and not yet wiped (on the right)

I hadn't worked with gouache before, so I wasn't sure what to expect or if it would work well. I ended up bying a large kit with 56 colors, but only about an ounce of each. I'm happy with the results of using so many colors, but it was also super annoying to wipe away all these different colors.

after wiping, starting to apply paper

For some reason wiping away the gouache is messier than wiping away the underglaze, at least it felt messieer, maybe because the paint didn't wash out or settle as quickly in the water as the underglaze does.

I planned to cut the paper to shape, but the curved surface made it tough to fit

I have used mulberry paper layers in other sculpture, so using handmade paper here made good sense. I bought the paper in Seattle before choosing the gouache colors, so the beautiful contrast of the amber paper with purple and blue paints was a bit of luck. This particular paper has bits of bark mixed into the pulp which I also love.

I ended up adding two layers of paper in smaller pieces to fully fill the space, and because one layer was slightly transparent

I'm really happy with this piece, despite the hidden crack inside. It's been sitting in our living room since last summer and I don't plan to sell it because I love it so much. I do, however, plan to show it at Larson Gallery in January at the art faculty exhibition. 

sketch made this spring, planning for a show of tall pieces

For the faculty show, I was originally hoping to have a room full of pieces taller than me, though that's a bit of a tall order (pun intended). I probably need a bit more time to reach quite the level of size and quantity than I envisioned, especially if each piece is going to be a lot more complicated than the ones in my sketched plan.

the piece in my studio, Labor day 2025


Since I started building this piece in summer 2024, I have tested attachments and galleries, clay bodies, surface decorating techniques, shaping, and surface textures. Periodically I tell myself I am allowed some time to experiment, then I get excited about what I can make and how soon. I now know I'll have lots of large work at the faculty show, but I don't think I'll be quite ready for an immersive environment of works towering over the average gallery visitor.


the piece (and it's summer 2026 friends) in my living room