American Wood-Fired Ceramics
Looking Forward/Looking Back
By Rich Briggs
In writing of her childhood memories growing up in the 1920’s, my mother
recalled hearing her father whistling each morning while he chopped wood for the
four household appliances that required it, the monarch kitchen stove, the wood
stove, the boiler and the fireplace. 100 years ago before natural gas, propane and
electricity were readily available, wood was a cheap, all be it, labor intensive source
for heating homes, shops and kilns for producing stoneware pottery. With modern
kilns reaching stoneware temperatures of 2336 F (1280 C) with the push of a button
or the turn of a dial, why do some clay artists choose the constant stoking and
attention wood-firing demands? Looking to the past will help explain. Like America
itself, the wood-fired pottery tradition is at the intersection of many influences
including Native American traditions of bonfires and dung, colonial traditions based
on European practices and oriental influences, Japanese in particular.
In some cases the importance of the wood itself is merely utilitarian, a cheap
fuel source which reaches stoneware temperatures in a relatively short period of
time. At the other extreme are the potters who reach temperature and then
continue to fire for days, consuming massive amounts of wood in an attempt to have
the flame and ash leave a record of their travels and achieve an effect which cannot
be duplicated any other way. Between these two extremes is a wide variety of
functional pottery and sculptural forms, which reflect the American tradition of
breaking with the past and exploring new territory.
The array of kiln styles is a testament to resourcefulness, ingenuity and a
desire to experiment to push boundaries of previous knowledge. Groundhog kilns,
used primarily in the Southern States have been in use since the 1700’s. With a
revival of “Jugtown” North Carolina the tradition continues today. Following a few
predecessors from the 1950’s and 60’s many American potters (including Peter
Callas, Malcolm Wright, Eric Nelson, Randy Johnston, Rob Barnard, John Neely, Jeff
Shapiro and Paul Chaleff to name a few) traveled to Japan in the 70’s to sit at the feet
of, and learn from, a 1000 year tradition. Returning to the States, many built
Japanese style kilns and began producing work influenced by an “eastern aesthetic”
expanding the vocabulary of personal expression. Many American artists of this era
working with clay were influenced by Abstract Expressionism, the decidedly
American art movement of the 1950’s and 60’s. With the devastation from WWII to
major European cities, the Western art scene migrated to America, New York in
particular. A brash, irreverent style, which broke with convention and pushed the
boundaries of what was considered Art developed. With all of this cross pollination,
the ground was fertile for tradition following and tradition breaking. The woodfired kiln became a tool to further explore ideas of function and for many, to respect
and reference function, but move in sculptural directions. Peter Voulkos is the
recognized leader of the movement which pushed clay into the Art mainstream. In
1978 Peter Callas convinced Voulkos his work would be enhanced by the wood-
firing process, and thus began a long and fruitful collaboration of Peter Voulkos’
work being transported and fired in Peter Callas’ Japanese style kiln.1
Japanese style kilns fall in two broad categories. Anagama are single
chambered kilns, often built into the side of a hill, where there is direct contact of
wood and ash with the ware from the fire box and stoke holes. Noborigama are
multi chambered kilns, with each chamber having its own fire box. From these two
styles, there are now a dizzying array of hybrid and altered styles. Kilns are often
designed to be less efficient, rather than more, to contribute to the variety of effects
achieved. John Neely, at Utah State University developed an efficient design which
became known as a train kiln which achieves a substantial build up of ash in a
relatively short period of time. There are many examples of this design here in
Australia since John built one on Janet Mansfield’s property in Gulgong 20 years ago.
Using a variety of woods and controlling the rate at which the kiln cools, it is
possible to affect and enhance the color palette of the ware.
Traditional Anagama and Noborigama are designed to be fired for days;
3, 5, 7, or 10. The longest I am personally aware of are 14 day firings, of constant
stoking, consuming up to 10 cords of wood. Conflict, in life, seems inevitable. It is
always interesting when the conflict comes from within one’s own community or
within one’s self. There are those who will claim it is wasteful, even irresponsible, to
fire wood kilns for days, when more “economical” choices are available. The long
firers will counter that they either have a private supply of wood, which they can do
with as they please, or they obtain slabs and off cuts from mills and industry that
would otherwise end up in the landfill. They fire the length of time they do because
it satisfies their aesthetic purposes.
Where a piece is placed in the kiln, and at what angle, is a time intensive and
creative endeavor. Many pieces are loaded without applied glazes, the surface effect
being a direct response to flame and ash and temperature. Don Reitz refers to this
effect as “painting with fire” as the river of heat and ash flow through the kiln,
leaving a record of their journey on the ware. Sometimes the result is a blush, or
whisper, and sometimes a full onslaught confrontation. The range of possibilities is
almost endless.
What are the challenges facing the wood-firing artist in the 21st century?
They come from diverse corners, from within and from without. Being a good
neighbor in regard to the amount of smoke produced is an increasing concern in
urban and suburban areas. Adjustments in design and stoking patterns can effect
the amount of smoke produced. Bede Clarke at the University of Missouri was
threatened with having to completely stop wood-firing from The Department of
Natural Resources, a government agency regulating smoke emissions. By building a
small chamber at the back of the kiln (sutema) which creates turbulence and
introducing additional air from a blower system, the smoke was eliminated. Bede
offers this solution to others who may be facing regulations.2
Availability of wood can be an issue. Fred Herbst at Corning Community
College in New York state was getting wood from a local mill, but because of the
economic down turn, had to find another, more expensive source. I am able to get
slab from a local mill, but I am always on a waiting list and the price doubled
because of demand.
There are some who worry the wood-firing genre may become a cliché’, a
labor intensive way to hide bad pots under a lot of ash. Jeff Shapiro in Accord, New
York states, “I believe the main challenge is to make great work. We have become
inundated with wood kilns. But, all too often, the work is fired without full
appreciation of all the processes: material character, forming processes, loading
techniques and surface treatment through firing. When any one of these dimensions
is lacking, the work suffers or is diminished. There is something to be said for the
involvement and commitment to the strenuous and arduous process of wood-firing
that is satisfying, but this does not in itself make for better work.” Kevin Crowe in
Amherst Virginia adds, “the effort invested in wood firing and the often unimagined
surfaces that result, can soften our ability or willingness to scrutinize the integrity of
the form.”
Because stoking is continuous and constant, it is necessary to organize and
collaborate as a team. The blessing of camaraderie also becomes the challenge.
Lindsay Oesterritter, new faculty at Western Kentucky University states, “besides
aesthetics, as an artist and a teacher, I really appreciate the community and
connection to process wood-firing affords. Building a wood kiln, collecting the
wood, and then loading and firing the kiln requires teamwork. As an artist, working
alone in the studio, it is a nice change to interact and collaborate with others
working towards a common goal. Also, it is part of releasing control, trusting the
process and firing partners.” Several colleagues also commented on the joy
experienced in the physicality of the process and the challenge as one gets older.
From an education perspective, there are challenges for students who may
have limited experience with labor intensive, sustained physical work. Fred Herbst
says, “it can be hard to keep a student’s attention during their shifts on a firing. I
have to ask them to put their cell phones away! A process that takes a week isn’t
something they have much experience with.” Lindsay adds, “as a teacher I
appreciate the students working together, helping each other out and building
camaraderie that then influences behavior in the studio. Also, that direct
relationship to the firing process. Being a participant with the heat takes
commitment, risk, at times critical thought and patience, and develops an
understanding for the process.” Some of us spend a fair amount of time in the
virtual world and the real world intrudes like a distraction. I currently have
students who are dedicated and hard working. I am less certain about the future. A
“no alcohol” policy is in force for many during a firing. The same may become true
for texting, ipods and other electronic devices, not only to help a student focus, but
also to experience what is happening in the moment. The law of the harvest is being
abbreviated and circumvented in many ways. Wood-firing provides experience
with the time honored tradition of reaping from what one has sown. It all begins
with a thought out and well crafted piece which is suitable for a dialogue between
clay, burning wood and containment.
And then the ever present economic question, who buys wood-fired wares?
Are the aesthetic possibilities on the general public’s radar? In many cases the
answer is no. There needs to be education and a willingness to pay for hand crafted
items. Kevin Crowe, “We live in an era in which the critical value of ‘process’ has
been steadily eroded by the passion for product. End over means. As more and
more processes are discarded and the pace of our culture accelerates, the ability of
the public to discern craftsmanship gives way to a thirst for novelty. This is the
fragile context in which the craftsperson/artist works.” Jeff Shapiro adds, “it is very
difficult to make a living from selling wood-fired work outside of Japan without
some other supplemental income. I think collectors must also rethink their role in
promoting the arts, that there is a responsibility in keeping it alive.”
So why do we wood fire and is it worth it? In the book Japanese Wood-Fired
Ceramics, Marc Lancet writes, “Why in the face of modern convenience are ceramic
artists internationally choosing to wood-fire? Only beauty offers an acceptable
explanation. It’s not an ‘oh that’s lovely’ casually noted beauty. It must be an
extraordinary beauty, a heart achingly arresting beauty; a beauty of epic
proportions, a beauty worth working for, a beauty only achievable by way of woodfiring. It can be no less. What else could motivate artists to dedicate so much time
and effort?”3 He continues, “Choice is the vital component of our 21st century woodfire practice. Today, with a plethora of options, unavailable to our 12th century
predecessors, we choose this tremendously labor intensive method. We have so
many easier choices. Yet we choose wood-firing. The results satisfy our artistic
vision in a way that no other method comes close to achieving. 21st century artists
find in wood-firing a combination of colors and textures that integrate with form to
create profound expressions of a contemporary aesthetic.”
No one else can answer the question about the value of our time and efforts.
Wood-firing takes commitment to process and a passion for the product produced. I
have heard more than one artist say they will be happy if they get one exceptional
piece from a firing. That’s a lot of work for one piece. But then we have a timeless
record of our journey. Kevin Crowe concludes, “I value the profound connection to
the ancient ones, the potters gone before that made this path possible, on whose
standards we stand. As we are firing, we are still making the pots. Mindfulness is
required to make exploration possible and to keep the learning curve from
flattening. Equally important is the responsibility to create and maintain an
atmosphere of respect for the ‘old ones.’ In this circle of respect we bow to the
potters of the past and model the spirit of attention, cooperation, courtesy and
gratitude to younger potters, keeping the path wide and dusted.”
Thanks to Bede Clarke, Kevin Crowe, Fred Herbst, Marc Lancet, John Neely, Lindsay
Oesterritter, Don Reitz and Jeff Shapiro for contributing comments and images.
1. Callas, Peter, The Log Book, Issue 31 2007 pages 12-19; Woodfiring:
Historical Obligation or Fashionable Fire,
2. Clarke, Bede The Log Book, Issue 27 2006 pages 20-23; Smoke free
Woodfiring?
3. Kusakabe, Masakazu and Lancet, Marc, Japanese Wood-Fired Ceramics, 2005
Introduction