Loading Lots of Kilns for Class (and Back Pain)

Egyptian inspired sarcophagus and coil vase by Isabella Johnson, before glaze firing.

I have three strong clay classes this quarter. The hand-builders I've written about once this quarter, and when I get my act together, I share some more of their work from this quarter. The wheel class is unusual in that the class started full and ended full. Most quarters, a few students drop after the first day or two, once they realize what the class is about. I'm not sure if they go away because they find it too difficult, their schedule changes, or they don't want to get dirty, or maybe there's something I'm doing that they dislike. I usually lose these students so early that I try not to take it personally.

Wheel thrown mug by Beau Filbert, the pink glaze was misbehaving that day.

This quarter I have 16 throwers total in the beginning level functional pottery and the advanced wheel classes, which meet at the same time. The students laughed at me the first time I said we would need to hurry through critique because the class was so large. They're used to thinking of 35 students as a large class, not 16. (I enjoy working at a college where a large class is 35, not 100) With 16 student wheels, that's the most I can fit in a class without some kind of wheel rotation schedule (I like the pun, I'm leaving it in).

One of four full carts of finished work this week. This batch was unloaded from the cone 10 reduction firing.

Last week was the last week of classes, with three days of finals next week. The last week is often crunch time for firing and finishing work, but the crunch gets worse (or better) with more students, especially when those students have more work. Since all three classes this quarter are composed mainly of hard-working, motivated students that just means there's more work to fire. 

a look into one of the oxidation firings as I was unloading it. Just one real drippy piece.

Monday was meant to be our last bisque firing, but with both bisque kilns completely stuffed, we ended up needing to fire again once those were unloaded. In fact, we ended up firing two more loads. On Wednesday we unloaded the super last final (really, I mean it) load and then later that day the super uper duper last (now I really mean it) bisque loads. Because so much wasn't bisque fired on schedule, we didn't have a chance to fire our gas kiln (cone 10 reduction) twice last week and only fired it on Thursday. 

This little bird on above the handle really caught my eye as I was unloading. I'm not sure whose work it is.

I had started having some back pain the week before, but I figured I just overdid it at boot camp or maybe had been sitting at a desk too much. My usual response is to walk or stretch or exercise it away. I also haven't really had back paint before. But by the end of the day Wednesday my back was really hurting and though I'm still not sure about the initial injury, I think the kiln loading exacerbated the pain. It probably didn't help that I was unloading hot kilns and that the one kiln is very deep.

I might have hurt my back trying to lift this big girl.

Because of the late bisques and late gas firing, after the "super last" bisque loads were done on Thursday, we needed to load the equivalent of more than a full gas kiln load in the electric kilns. The hand-builder critique is on Monday morning, so I knew I needed to get their work into the kiln last week. I mostly unloaded and loaded both kilns (all four loads) myself because students were glazing, one of my studio assistants was ill, and the other had to leave early. I usually load with more help, so that I might lift out the heavy shelves from the large kiln, but then hand them over to someone else. 

Isabella's Sarcophagus and vase after firing. Some thrown work and a woman's head are also visible.

I loaded these kilns carefully, since the hand-builders' work tended to be fairly large. In the large kiln, I put in the tall work at the bottom, but there were a couple of pieces that weren't ready when I loaded the bottom of that kiln. I saved room at the top of the smaller kiln and loaded the remaining large pieces as soon as the student finished glazing. Since throwers don't critique until Wednesday afternoon, I figured I could load and fire the remaining cone 10 work on Monday/Tuesday.

Here's something unusual that we found when unloading one of the last bisque loads. This foot had popped off an inside was some crumbly white material that felt a bit like styrofoam. If you look closely, you can see the shape of the foreign object that got lost in the clay.

My back was starting to hurt pretty bad, so I was relieved not to have to unload and load again without help. (On Monday I should have plenty of support from students and work studies and assistants.) Then, I walked out of the kiln room and looked on one of the work tables. There were two hand-builder sculptures glazed, ready to be loaded, but not on the glazed work shelf. I could tell they were meant to be loaded, and one of them was very tall. It wouldn't fit in either kiln without unloading a serious amount of work. 

We think that a silicon end of a "rubber tip" blending tool fell off, got lost in the recycled clay, then turned up in the middle of the student's clay slab. Since it was small, she didn't notice it until it caused problems with the fired ceramic piece.

So, that is the story of how I ended up coming in on Saturday (with a sore back) to unload two full electric kiln loads and then reload two full electric kiln loads so that all the work could be ready by Monday's critique. (I neglected to mention that I also needed to fire a low fire kiln load with hand-builder work, but there were only about 6 items so that load was pretty small and easy to load--once I had unloaded the cone 10 stuff). I anticipate a fun, interesting critique tomorrow. And no more kiln loading for me until next quarter.

The Beauty of Clay at Columbia Center for the Arts in Oregon

This weekend I drove a car full of sculpture to Hood River, Oregon for a show that opens next week. The Beauty of Clay opens Friday, March 3 from 6-8pm at Columbia Center for the Arts and runs through April 2, 2017. This timing coincides with the NCECA clay conference in Portland. The internet tells me that Portland is just over an hour from Hood River, but its possible some people might stop on the way to or from the conference. I plan to.

The Columbia was beautiful, but the rest stops don't get you near the prettiest sights, so I snapped a few pictures without looking from the moving car.

The drive down to Hood River from Yakima is just over 2 hours and, though the road and weather were uneventful, my car chose to enliven the drive by falling out of fifth gear four or five times on the way down. For the last hour or so, I drove with my arm locked on the gearshift to keep it in gear. Fun times. Strangely, on the way back it didn't fall out of gear once. 

The one picture I remembered to take, just after parking in Hood River, note the beautiful beach towel ceramic packing equipment.

I meant to take pictures of the car fully loaded or the work being packed or unpacked, but I guess I got distracted by the process of packing, and then by trying to diagnose the gearshift problem. I thought pictures of the loaded car might be interesting, because I drove down alone with six sculptures occupying three seats and the back cargo hold. My friend offered to accompany me, but I traded her seat for a sculpture.

  

If anybody in Hood River wants to buy these guys, I do not mind not bringing them home

I loaded the two tallest pieces in the back seat, after removing the car seats and detritus from my kid. (The problem with only kids occupying the back seat is that no one remembers to pick up wrappers and toys and kleenex in that space.) These two tall pieces are also the reason I wasn't able to take the juror, Yvonne Pepin-Wakefield, up on her offer to drive the work down (she has a studio in Tieton and a place in Hood River). I could have boxed up the other pieces for shipping, but these two pieces are tall, heavy and have lots of pointy bits at the top that are likely to break if not packed carefully. I'm sure, given enough time, money, and motivation, I could develop a safe box system for the tail ones, but it probably was cheaper in both time and money, and certainly in energy, to drive them down, loose packed, in my car.

This little guy just stacks on top, no trouble at all to pack

Packing the tall sculptures in the car allows me to stand them up on the seat. I support the sculpture with foam between the metal frame and the car seat, and cushion every other area with foam, towels, or leave open space. Their weight and the seat belts keep them from moving around very much, but I certainly breathed easier going over potholes on the drive home. 

The Columbia was amazingly still, the land and sky reflected looked just the same as the real world above (I'd show that reflection, but by the power of cropping, this picture looks almost like I didn't take it over my shoulder out the car window)

The three smaller, less awkward sculptures were paced in the back cargo area in a large plastic bin with foam and beach towels. My main packing material for larger pieces that I hand-deliver is usually beach towels. They are extra large and thick, don't get used very often as towels, and we otherwise store them rolled up next to the clay studio, so they're ready to use for support or padding when I start to load the car (usually half an hour before I plan to leave).

the bike wheel sculpture (come home, little sculpture, and I promise to get a good photo of you this summer)

The front seat was reserved for the bike wheel sculpture. This one doesn't need much support but it does need some space. It fits just about perfectly on the front seat with the hub of the wheel touching the seat back and almost touching the car door and dash, but not getting in the way of my shifting arm (or, in this case, my holding-the-shifter-in-fifth arm).

  

the two easiest sculptures to load

I could probably adjust things to make the wheel sculpture fit in the back of the car, but this sculpture rattles a bit as I drive. I find I am less stressed while driving if all rattling sounds are close enough that I can account for them. I drove with this sculpture or something similar in the cargo area a while back and spent the entire 20 minute drive asking my daughter what was breaking. In fact, perhaps the gearshift problem was a good thing because it distracted me from worries about ceramics in the car.