To the Northwoods and Back Again

I'm pleased to announce that in spite of spending 22 hours on the road this past weekend I have continued my streak of productivity. Friday saw us headed North by Northeast to Duluth, Minnesota, for the wedding of my dear friend, fellow artist, and sometime-brother, Alexander. It was a wonderful wedding, with much merriment and mirth and dancing and such. And you should click on his name there to check out his work. One of those folks that just oozes creativity. Kind of makes you sick, actually. But seriously, he does some phenomenal things in digital/illustration/mixed-media/printing/typography that are worth checking out.

So we spent some time driving through the Northland and accompanying Northwoods. Beautiful country, beautiful time of year to be there (as opposed to, say, January). If only we'd had time to stop and hunt for wild blueberries, it'd've been perfect. 

The woods. There are roughly 10,000 lakes somewhere in that picture. I think. Stunning view.

In the Northwoods, you can even look stunning while chatting it up with your mother-in-law. Well done, Krystal.

In an attempt to avoid the myriad stretches of construction on the interstate between there and here (and for a change in scenery on this drive we've been doing oh-so-often) we pulled off and took the back highways for the last couple hours home. It included Krystal's first visit to the world's only Corn Palace. I've been before, but Krystal needed to experience it. I think it also fits into the "stunning" category. And to think, after all these years, nobody else has even attempted to take the "world's only" qualifier away from the Mitchell Corn Palace. I mean, really?

I'd like to know just what it is we're voting "yes" to in the mosaic up there.

For those not in the know, yes, that building is covered in corn. Ears and shucks and tassels and all of it corn. I hear tell that the exterior mural is redone every year, which is why it isn't all rotted out. And of course everyone there was thrilled to meet Tempy. Because she's perfect.

But yes, this is supposed to be about pottery, right? So, despite all that driving I still got to do some throwing and other sundry pottery projects this weekend, last week, this week thus far. I'm working hard to stay productive and harness all that road-weary pent-up anxiety into something positive.

I made more slip. And put it in a nice big jug. And put a pretty blue label on it. Yeah!

Threw these big bowls Sunday night after 7 hours on the road. That's what makes me a go-getter, I guess.

These bowls are all dried. Not a particularly "active" process on my part, but it's shows what I  produced last week, I suppose. I'd like to note that I spent a few seconds trying to turn "productivity" into a verb before I settled on produced. It's been one of those days.

My little corner. It looks like a potter lives here. Also, this vantage point shows you exactly how tall I am. Bam!

And that doesn't even show the trimming of large bowls or throwing of additional large pots or recycling of 25 pounds of clay that have occurred. Take that! I had a picture of this little vase from a different angle, but I thought the overhead shot of my workspace had a better feel. Artists call this "view point" or "perspective" and it tells you something about the "agency" of subject and auteur, but unless you're really into art you really wouldn't know anything about that. No big deal.

All that to say that I've been staying busy and will continue to stay busy as long as allowed. Which might not be long. I'm getting tired of busy, to say the least.

So keep up the good work, and I'll see you here again soon-ish.

Weekend

Threw some pots this weekend.  Nothing too exciting.  Another vase that should receive some mountains.  A couple more small Christmas gifts and special orders.  One I'm particularly looking forward to is a plate for fellow Guilder Patrick Reddick that will be specially decorated to feature a sgraffito-ed squirrel.  I'm not entirely sure how we got to this point, but while in the studio last week I think we had a situation of boys being boys and discussing ridiculous pottery and he said he'd really like to see me put a squirrel on something, and I said, "I think that can be arranged."  So he will be getting the one and only limited edition run of one squirrel plate.  Unless it turns out spectacularly, in which case there may be more squirrels in the future.

But that's unlikely.

So that's it for now - no pictures from the studio work, but I should be in there at least one more night this week before the holiday is upon us.  Since I have no pictures from this weekend's studio time, I'll leave you with a photo from our trip down to The Springs and Garden of the Gods.  It was a brief little jaunt in the afternoon with Krystal and our friend Katie, but it was fun and enjoyable.  So here's a picture.

Other People's Pots

The folks at Slipcast-The Ceramics Blog added me to their database a week or so ago, and if you're interested in all varieties of ceramic arts, and you don't hang around Luke Langholz Pottery solely because I'm just that awesome, then you may be interested in checking Slipcast out.

(How's that for a run-on sentence?)

First of all, Slipcast is itself an interesting blog to peruse.  It does seem to focus more on cast pottery found around the web, as opposed to thrown or handbuilt, but there is definitely plenty of interesting (and diverse) stuff to look at. 

Second, blogger Matthew Katz seems to enjoy the English language as much as I do, and has been known to feud with other artists over such issues as "ceramicist" vs. "ceramist" - I much prefer ceramicist myself.  No matter how proper it may be, I maintain that ceramist is, and always has been, a Pepsi product. 

Third, and I think most interesting, Mr. Katz has taken it upon himself to compile a comprehensive list of pottery blogs on the web.  His list recently reached 500 in number.  I most certainly have not had time to visit each of the blogs listed, but I think it is a truly great resource for connecting the online ceramic arts community.

Which brings me back to my opening statement:  if you're not here because I am just that awesome, but you're here for the pottery, and you're interested in finding more pottery, check out the list at Slipcast.  Seriously.  There's like 500.  Click randomly.  Go alphabetically.  Or reverse alphabetically.  Or use a random-integer-generating-algorithm to select your potters at random.  But check out some of the other potters.

Because even though I am just that awesome, there's some other really sweet potters out there as well.  Here's a couple that I read regularly:

Sofia's Dad's Pots: Jim Gottuso is a potter who lives and works in Kentucky and blogs about pottery, fatherhood, and little floods in his basement.  Periodically he posts the outcome of a Scrabble game as well.  Fascinating pots, and a genuinely engaging writer. 

Hannah McAndrew - Slipware Potter:  This artist lives and works across the pond, and does some fascinating work with sliptrailing.  Fun to see another example of an artist who uses slip.  I've tried sliptrailing before, and my results were rather disastrous.  She does a very good job, and posts similar topics as I do - photos of work in progress, good and bad days in the studio, events, and even pictures from vacation.

So, those are the other potters I read regularly, and they are both listed in the 500-potter list.  Check them out, and let me know if you find anything exciting on the big list!

Some Pots, some Autumnal Pictures

It's been sort of a crazy week or so for our household, and while I've actually logged more studio hours than normal, I haven't been doing such a great job posting.  So here's me, trying to make up for that by posting pictures of a week's worth of pots, etc.

We'll start with a low point:  the bowls below, wherein the blue-slip spiral design is not particularly attractive.  These will find themselves filled with glaze further toward opaque on the transparency spectrum.  The slip/spirals should lend some texturing/depth to the glazes without overpowering them.  Also visible on the bat there are a couple lids for some hopeful little pots.  I don't do lids a whole lot, but every once in a while throwing a lid on a little pot makes a world of difference.  I've got a couple little vases from last week's batch that could just possibly benefit from getting a little lid action on.

A few splatter bowls.  I like to splash a little slip into the bowl before I finish off the rim of the bowl with a chamois.  That produces a pretty slick look around the edge, and a nice clean line, as in the top two bowls, where the slip actually seems to have been spread around the whole edge of the bowl.  I rather like this look, and I hope you (and others) do, too.

Here's a couple little pots that will have lids.  I'm trying something new here with using two slips **oooh!!!** It's kind of a sunset effect.  Or something.  Just doing something fun for myself here.  If it doesn't work out, I'll survive.

Another bigger plate.  We'll see what happens with it.  I'm always a little nervous about larger pieces (like large-based plates, bowls) on these wooden bats, because wood has a tendency to absorb moisture and release moisture and generally fluxuate freely with moisture which can: a) warp the piece as it's on the bat, and/or b) lead to issues decorating as the bat's warping can cause irregular motion on the wheel, even if the pot itself is relatively centered and stable.  So, in short, I threw a plate on a wooden bat and I may regret it.  Moving on...

Quite low flat bowl.  Much closer to a plate than most of the bowls like this have been.  I'm optimistic about it.  I'll keep you posted as things develop.

More bowls.  A set, perhaps?  1.5, 3, and 4.5 pounds respectively, so they should be nicely scaled as a set of serving/mixing bowls.  We'll see how I feel about it later.  These have been trimmed and slipped and will be decorated tonight.

And some more bowls.  A trio of bowls, in fact. Not so much a set, but they could be I suppose.  These were fast, fun, and easy.

In the meantime, my darling wife Krystal (left, wearing my awesome, clay covered, Switchfoot t-shirt) and her friend Katie (right) are taking the Guild's intermediate throwing class this fall.  It's been fun to spend time in the studio together, even if we're working separately.  They're both doing very well with the throwing, and enjoying Hide's instruction very much.  If you're in Northern Colorado and have wanted to take a pottery class (throwing of any level or handbuilding) I'd highly recommend checking out the Guild's classes - there should be plenty of offerings starting in January.

In any event, this is what Krystal threw on Tuesday night - a beautiful pot which they're going to Raku at some point.  Should be fun. 

In the meantime, we've also spent plenty of time doing appropriately autumnal things.  Here's just a few snapshots of the fall we've been able to enjoy the last couple weeks...

Sunny fall football games - Go Rams!!!  Row 4 for CSU's 35-20 win against Nevada.  For the record, the Wolfpack were favored to win by 3.

Watching the aspens turn to gold.

Hiking in the mountains.

Hiking on top of the mountains.  Here I've conquered the Estes Cone (RMNP's 94th tallest peak).  It's not particularly tall, but the views are incredible.

That's it for today.  Note that below I've also posted an ad for an upcoming show (end of October) that I'll be particpating in.  I should be posting one more such flyer as it is available.  Thanks again for reading, and have a great day!

RETRACTION: I was momentarily dyslexic this afternoon.  Krystal, my wife, is on the LEFT in the above picture.  Katie is on the right.  I can assure you that these mistakes and confusions never occur in real life.  And, Krystal has forgiven my transgression. 

And they gnashed their terrible teeth...

On a completely unrelated note, I stumbled across this site today:

It appears to be an online community art project featuring works inspired by Maurice Sendak's timeless children's classic, Where the Wild Things Are, which just happens to be one of my favorite books of all time. The artwork is phenomenal, the story is engaging, and I think there's something very relatable about Max's character. I know I have my days where I just want to put on my wolf suit and sail off until I find an island of my own... but that's another story entirely.

Head on over to Terrible Yellow Eyes and check out some of the artwork, and read more about their art project. I found myself drawn in by the variety of style and approach to capturing moments from the familiar tale, familiar characters. Pretty cool stuff.

Also cool stuff is that we're now 9 weeks away from the release of the film also based on the book, and I'm quite stoked to see that as well. Hopefully it doesn't disappoint. Check out the official trailer here, or embedded below.

"And now," cried Max, "let the royal rumpus start!"

(Have a great weekend!)

Double-Mug and Throwing

First off, some unfinished business regarding yesterday's double-mug. This piece of pottery was on display at the Chapin Mesa Archaeological Museum at Mesa Verde National Park. Very few of these mugs have been found (according to the little plaque in the picture), but we do know that the bottom connector is open, meaning the level of liquid in the cup(s) remains equal.

I was questioned as to its value, or role, or functionality. More precisely, my mother asked if that wouldn't be hard to drink from. I'm assuming yes, but I haven't tried it myself. I know of at least two archaeologists who read this blog, and several anthropologists* of varying specializations, so I ask: why do you think this double-mug was made? (You may post your opinions in the comments section even if you're not an archae/anthrop-ologist.)

Double-Mug

My suggestion is that it had some ritualistic function, most likely tied to marriage ceremonies, based on its similarity to "traditional" wedding vases (see below). Again, I ask for help from the anthropologists, as I couldn't find any reliable information on the actual "tradition" associated with these vases. But in general (across cultures), vessels such as the wedding vase with two distinct chambers/spouts/cups that are joined together are symbolic of marriage relationships and often serve ritual functions.

It makes sense to me that a vessel such as the double-mug could be intended for sharing between a bride and groom, perhaps as a means of finalizing their marriage. If you imagine for a moment that they were intended to drink from the cup together, in unison, they would have to drink cheek-to-cheek. Sounds romantic.

Oh, and it's okay to use your imagination when you're thinking archaeologically. I know because Eli, our Interpretive Ranger who took us on a tour of Balcony House at MV, told us so. He said it's important to use our imaginations to put together the whole picture from the pieces that are left behind. He also told us that you can't generally get water out of cactuses, but you can get water from the little furry critters you bop over the head and eat, and hydration is key, and you really shouldn't touch the ruins in the cliff dwellings, and stay away from that ledge, and HEY-YOU! QUIT CLIMBING ON THAT PUEBLO!!!

That's enough of that though. Please share your thoughts on double-mug in the comments section.

Spent a couple hours in the studio last night. Mostly throwing cups. A baker's dozen. I'm thinking that most of them will work out for me, once they are trimmed/dried. If not, I'm not afraid to toss them in the slop bucket. Yup, I'm that intense. I also remembered to take some pictures of Sunday throws. So, here's the pictures and I'm done for the day. Have a great one!

Pots, various.

Bowls, slipped. Small (bottom) and smaller (top).

Jar, slipped.

Cups. 13. Some variation, but predominately uniform. Especially factoring trimming, etc.

*For those not aware, archaeology is actually a subdiscipline in the field of anthropology. The other subdisciplines include: linguistic anthropology, physical (or biological) anthropology, and cultural anthropology. And, contrary to popular belief, none of these fields have anything whatsoever to do with dinosaurs. That would be paleontology. Obviously.

On the Road and In the Studio

Well, I’m back. For the time being. No foreseeable absences of significance in the future.

It’s been almost three weeks since the last update, and I’ve covered a lot of ground since then. After posting on July 2, Krystal and I hit the road for our first real vacation ever. It was grand, and a grand adventure. The west coast was our final destination, with camping and exploration along the way at Mesa Verde and Grand Canyon National Parks. In addition to breathtaking views, inspirational scenery, and hours of desert driving, both parks also had significant collections of Native American pottery from the Hopi, Pueblo, and other traditions.

While I’ve always considered the southwestern native pottery an inspiration in my forms, sometimes I forget just how beautiful those shapes are. Here’s a few of the pots that were exhibited in the museums at Mesa Verde and the Grand Canyon.

The bottom connection in the double-mug is open, so the liquid level in both mugs remains equal. Apparently it's a pretty rarely found form. Pretty nifty.

I really like the big jar in the middle on the bottom shelf.

This one is a 20th century piece included in a case explaining the social importance of pottery.

The decorative motif on the inside of that little red bowl reminds me of one of my own.

After a couple days camping in the deserts of Colorado and Arizona, we continued to San Diego where there was much laying on the beach and zooing (real word?). We made it home safely by way of Las Vegas (no need to go back… ever) and a stop at Arches National Park (more beautiful scenery, no pots). However, if you are interested in seeing more traditional Native American pottery, the Denver Art Museum has a superb collection of American Indian art, including an absolutely breathtaking collection of work by Maria Martinez.

So, back in town for just over a week now, I’ve been in the studio twice. Last week I put in a very solid evening of glazing, and I put in several hours of throwing on Sunday afternoon. I was a little rusty, losing the first couple pieces I threw, but it’s been a month since I tried to do any real throwing, so I’m not too surprised. After those few catastrophes, I hit my stride and produced a good eight pieces (at least). A plate, a couple small bowls, some moderately sized jars/pots, and whopper of an “arizona.” Unfortunately, I forgot to bust out the camera until most of these had been packed up, so here’s what I do have pictures of:

Sgraffito on this vase - pretty sure I threw it a month ago, slipped it three weeks ago, and covered it really well. It was just soft enough to carve. And by soft, I mean it was pretty hard and it hurt my fingers to carve into it.

Trying out a new green slip. On a little pot, first. Definitely more on the lime-green side of things right now. I'm anxious to see how it will fire. I may have to add some more blue to the slip, or it may be a perfect shade of green. Or maybe I should just plan on making some funky lime-colored pottery?

My big "arizona" - I'm estimating it's 13" at its widest.

That’s it for now – I’ll be back in the studio tonight, so hopefully an update will come tomorrow.

About an uncle.

I was in the studio last night for a little while, most of which was spent in a meeting regarding our upcoming Guild fundraiser event. Not the way I like my time to be spent generally, but being there was the responsible thing to do. I'll try to convince myself it was worth it.

I spent some time working on a couple chalices, one of which will be part of a communion set order, as well as the paten, or plate, to accompany it. I also finished up another one of my vases and glazed a couple of pieces. I forgot to take my camera, so no pictures. Sorry. Maybe next time.

Also on the agenda in the near future is the necessary shooting and posting of new work. I did come home from the studio with a half dozen freshly fired pieces last week, and there was a batch of work at the end of April that went straight to sale without photography. Sadly, I still have most of those!

In the meantime, here's a pot that I didn't make. This is a piece by my late uncle, Timothy Langholz. Tim was an extremely gifted artist and a prolific potter, selling his wares nationally at fine arts and crafts festivals. Tim's work was extremely unique, and decorated with a geometric precision that makes my head hurt. This piece is titled "Hiding Cat," and is featured on his website, which his family has kept online in his memory.

I had the opportunity to "work" with Tim on two distinct occasions - work used lightly, as work and play were never clear distinctions in Tim's world.

First, when I was thirteen, I spent a day with Tim in his rural studio in Northeast Iowa. I tried my hand at the wheel, which was quite unsuccessful, and then spent the better part of an afternoon decorating a trio of large chargers that Tim had thrown earlier that week. One of these is in our home and will be for a long time, and the other two I believe are still in my parents' possession.

Last, Tim invited me to accompany him in July 2008 while he exhibited at the Cherry Creek Art Festival in Denver. I spent four days with him, setting up, tending booth, making friends with our neighbors. It was an amazing experience of fun and learning, and hard work. Tim wasn't sure what my duties would be in helping him out - he told me originally that my primary responsibility was to provide him company and help allay the boredom and anxiety that can creep up on you if a sale is slow.

I must not have been too bad of a helping hand. The first day started pretty menially - fetching coffee, carrying bins of pots, unloading bins of pots, storing bins of pots... A few hours in he was letting me handle most sales - while I was dealing with money and packing up purchased pottery, he could converse freely with newfound patrons. By that afternoon, he would leave me for 10 or 15 minutes at a time to man the booth while he perused the neighboring artists.

By midmorning the next day, I would turn around and find Tim missing without a word - fully entrusted with his tent and his pots. Sometimes he'd be gone an hour at a time. By setup on the third day, he was letting me price his work and arrange the display in the tent. My grandmother, who lived in the same town as Tim, later told me that he talked for weeks about how much fun it was to have me around, and how helpful I was. I'm glad he told her so.

I learned a lot that weekend - about what it takes to be a successful artist, the work and stress that accompanies a show, how to relate to those who appreciate your work. He called that, "Poking people, to see what kind of noise they'll make." Sometimes they're intrigued by you, or your work. And sometimes you get a scowl as they scutter away. I learned more about he proper display of work, about the adequate care and feeding of pots whilst on the road. I learned a few little games that can help you pass the time on a hot July day.

When Tim passed away last fall, I kept coming back to my recollections of that weekend in Denver, and all the people we met, all the people who took his pots home. Many brief interactions, and some lifelong connections. A woman who had bought work from Tim in Minnesota, and Arizona, and found him in Colorado. A young man just passing through on his way to a friend's wedding cross-country who couldn't pass up the vase featuring the cat-butt. Garry, the photographer 2 tents town who praised us for our strong, German surname. Every person who lined up a dozen tiny bowls comparing and contrasting the designs, trying to find the right match. The folks that couldn't buy anything, but were amazed by his work and so interested in talking with us about the pottery.

Such small interactions, such important connections. To share your work, your art, your passion, with another person - to relate, to converse, to send home with them a piece of yourself in clay form - this is what is amazing about being the artist. Whether you sell two pots or two hundred, whether it's a $500 vase or a mug you pass on to a friend, complimentary. I think these connections are what it's all about.

Tim definitely made that connection with the people who own his pots. He is, and will be, greatly missed.

(Thanks for indulging me in my lunch-hour cathartic experience.)