Spring Break: Mount St. Helens Boxes and Thinking about Teaching Online

Darter, the cat, inspecting my work

This week, besides being the second week of schools being closed in Washington and the first week of Washington's "stay-at-home" order, is also spring break at YVC. Though I know I've got a lot of work to do for next quarter, since my clay classes were canceled and I'll be teaching something else online, I chose to spend this time as a break. I spent some of this break time in my amazing, incredible, clean, bright and slightly chilly new clay studio.

Mount St. Helens blowing off steam in 1982

A couple of years ago, I worked straight through spring break, what with presenting at NCECA in Pittsburgh during finals week and doing a multi-day ESCALA training when I got back. That quarter was awful. It really threw into relief how important a break is for my ability to function in the studio or classroom (or online classroom, as the case may be).

A stray cat knocked down this ceramic dish while he was climbing the shelves

So far this year, since my studio remodel was completed and the furniture and tools were moved back in, I haven't had a chance to make any actual work in the space. In fact, I might consider my making in the studio a net loss, since I've been tossing stuff that I realize I'm never going to fix, finish, or sell. And last week an unexpected visit from a skittish, stray feline reduced the work in the studio by one more piece.

The tray cat in question, stalking the new shelves.

Before the rollercoaster of COVID-19 related surprises began, I had been planning to spend some time in the studio making work for an upcoming show. A group of local artists are planning a show focused on the anniversary of the eruption of Mount St. Helens. Though I grew up in Wisconsin and I wasn't alive at the time of the eruption, I've always felt a fascination with the event because of its timing. The 40th anniversary this May coincides with my 40th birthday just 11 days later. 

Photos of Mount St. Helens before, during, and after the 1980 eruption

I found out about the show because some local ceramic artist friends were working on developing some ash glazes (or pumice glazes) using ash from the eruption. The plan was to develop and test recipes that could then be used by various artists. The artists were using the glaze studio at YVC for some of their work, but I'm not sure if they ever finished. The last time they planned to come in was after the March 12 school closure order.

two views of the volcano in progress

With the various closures and stay-at-home requests and orders, it isn't clear to me whether the show will actually be able to happen. I think the venue had changed in mid-March, but things are happening so quickly and everything is so uncertain just now, that I am choosing to only worry about what I can control.

three boxes mostly done building

One thing I can control is using this spring break time as an actual break. Often I spend some of my spring break time prepping my online classes, and I have done a bit of that work, but I've tried to limit that time. I spend a bunch of time during the weekend before finals adjusting my live final critiques to online critiques and thinking about how I could teach Functional Pottery online. During finals week (last week) I fired and unloaded kilns, graded, communicated with students, took pictures for students who couldn't collect their finished work, and worked on union issues related to the pandemic and our preparations. I also advocated for pushing back the start of the spring quarter so that my colleagues and I wouldn't have to spend the entire break developing online content.

the smoke plume in progress

I am pretty lucky, in that I have taught online before. I was scheduled to teach 3 classes, one of which is and was entirely online. I've taught this class online before and I spent time in August updating all the due dates and modules for my entire online series of 3 classes. Of course with the quarter being pushed back, some of this work will need to be revised. I also anticipate updating some of my requirements in light of the fact that students may not be able to use on-campus computers, may be "working at home" with children who aren't in school anymore, and generally to account for the fact that everyone will be extra anxious and stressed out this spring.

three volcanos in progress

Unfortunately, my clay classes can't be moved online. In my last post, I was thinking hard about how I could do this and I was feeling excited about the possibilities for teaching clay online and having the space accessible for students, but the insurmountable hurdle was the clay and the clean up and recycling processes in the studio. Even if I could keep the students 6 feet apart from one another and myself at all times (which would be challenging, even with the best of intentions), I just couldn't get my head around how to keep myself, my students, and my studio employees from handling wet clay, slurry, and wet towels or sponges that had been handled by other students. Not to mention all the other tools and equipment that would need to be shared in the space.

two volcanos and a smoke plume in progress

The stay-at-home order of this week, which might be extended, appears to preempt my ability to teach live anyway and seems like the best health advice coming from medical professionals is that we shouldn't try to do things in person. So my clay classes were canceled and will be replaced with either an online art history or online art appreciation class. One of these I have prepared, the other one I have not, but the delayed start of the quarter makes me fairly confident that I can get either class ready to go during next week when I am being paid for my work time.

the eruption box in progress

This week I've slept in most days and stayed up late watching movies or shows with my family. I've done a track workout with my daughter most days (the coach sent a list of workouts home with her before school was closed) and she's done a couple of boot camp workouts with me as well. Her consistent whining is just the motivation I need to stick with a tough workout! I've listened to far too many podcasts about Coronavirus and read far too many articles about teaching during a pandemic, but I've also read some real books and listed to several audiobooks while working in the studio. My daughter is doing a FaceTime book group with her grandparents, and she and I have had some time to sew "squares" for our Harry Pottery quilt. She's also baked chocolate chip cookies with minimal assistance twice during the two weeks she's been home from school.

this kitty is only friendly in the morning, so I only got a visit because I was building before everyone else was up

We've kept ourselves busy, but my earlier wake-up time has allowed me to take advantage of some quiet time in the studio to build. I only have a week, but I didn't have much trouble getting started. My idea for the Mount St. Helens show was to create boxes that capture the shape of the smoke and debris from the eruption and the change in the shape of the volcano before and after the eruption.

the steam and rolling debris of the eruption

The 1980 eruption (did you know there was another small eruption in 2008?) was mostly sideways, which impacted both the path of the destruction and the resulting shape of the volcano afterwards. I like the idea of representing the clouds of dust and smoke in solid (er, hollow) clay. Obviously the result lacks some of the wispiness of the original, but I kind of enjoy the idea of capturing some of the shape and direction of the eruption in a medium that is so stable.

the eruption and volcano box from the side, before cutting the lid

I've created four boxes, one showing the volcano before eruption, one during, and two after. All four boxes open, but the interior space is pretty different in all four boxes. The before box has the simplest shape both inside and out and I've left the surface fairly smooth, in part because the before picture I was using showed the volcano covered with snow.

the pre-eruption box, open

The after box is quite small inside and actually has a hollow section underneath because of how low that section was. The blast opened up both the side the and top of the volcano and I rendered this as a very low front, which make the interior of this low area almost inaccessible anyway. This box is barely a box, since the crater of the volcano is the focus and the lid is actually very shallow. 

 

The post eruption box interior and underside

I roughed up the texture inside and outside the crater to give a sense of the rough, craggy stone and the varied angles around the crater and down the sides. This one is the roughest of the four. I didn't initially intend the four different boxes to represent different seasons, but I realize that my pictures represented different seasons. This, and my interest in creating some variation in texture between the four, influenced the final results.

the post eruption box and lid

The next smallest box actually comes from a picture taken two years after the 1980 eruption. The steam blast is a more interesting shape in some ways than that the eruption itself, so I wanted to include it. I think it captures what we think a volcano looks like, more than an actual eruption. This is the volcano I'd draw in a game of Pictionary. The plan is to attach the smoke plume to a metal rod which will insert into the lid. The lid has a bottom that will hold the rod up and the rod will help keep the plume in place. I could have attached the plume permanently, but the risk of breakage would be greater.

the 1982 box and smoke plume, which will be attached and reinforced after firing

The shape I had the most fun building was based on a picture from the actual 1980 eruption. The blast came out one side and in the picture the dark cloud seems to roll along the bottom of the front edge. I've stylized this in the sculpture, but I kind of like the way I've done it. It seems to capture the movement and the mass of this thing. 

the 1980 eruption box, done building

There's no real reason these need to be boxes, except that I had a week to devote to building them and I figured the show will feature lots of fairly small work. The eruption box is a ridiculous shape for a box, but I enjoy the wiggly wobbly interior space of this one almost as much as the exterior shape and texture. Now to find out whether I'll get to use any of that pumice/Mt. St. Helens ash glaze.

the interior of the eruption box

There's one more wacky decision I made and I haven't yet decided if I like it. When I was researching the eruption with my daughter, I learned that a man named Harry Truman (not the president) died (or presumably died) at Mount St. Helens because he didn't evacuate in advance of the eruption, but his 16 cats also died because they didn't evacuate.

Truman's 16 cats

So I attached 16 cats along the bottom of the pre-eruption volcano box. This is the piece that I imagine would be complemented by a drippy and/or variegated ash glaze.

Truman's 16 cats along the bottom of the pre-eruption box

My daughter is also working on a piece for this show. She started her plan for an active erupting Lego volcano, which will, of course, erupt on just one side. She got a decent start early this week, but its difficult to say whether she'll be able to maintain her patience enough to actually complete the project. It is challenging and it isn't going perfectly because she's making up the design herself, but her response to adversity is to flail in frustration and erupt (see what I did there) in tears. I can't offer much help with the Legos themselves and I'm not entirely sure how to help her help herself calm down. My reaction is to tell her to do something else. I am interested to see if she will be able to cope next week while I am actually working from home most of the day.

the Lego volcano in progress (notice the conveyor belt with a single flame in place).