Joss' BlogIn this Blog, I like to share what's going on in my world of making pots. I update it whenever I think there's something which may be of interest: there may be times when I am adding to it daily; sometimes I can't think of anything worth saying for months. I hope it gives you a flavour of what goes on in the average day of a working potter...
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|  20th January 2012Slowly, slowly the shelves in the workshop are filling up with finished pots, waiting patiently to take their place inside Margory. I have been very selfish in what I am choosing to make for this coming summer season, sticking to the types of pots that I enjoy making most: teapots in two sizes, 12floz jugs, cream jugs, mugs, a new design of sugar pot, cereal bowls, tea plates, storage jars, casserole dishes (two sizes), gratin dishes, and few bread crocks. These will accompany some of the big pots I made last summer into Margory for a Spring firing just before Easter.
For those of you who have expressed an interest in coming down to see Margory in action, the firing is planned for the week beginning Monday 26th March (finishing some time on the Thursday). I have big hopes for this firing, and will be interested to see how she fires with her new insulation layer, added last Autumn. I am hoping that all the hard work that went into her repairs will result in the top temperature being less of a struggle, and that it will be easier to maintain Reduction (starving her fires of oxygen). Time will tell.
I will have to start organising willing victims to come and crew at the firing: at least I can truthfully tell them that Margory's kiln-shed is a snug place to be when Dartmoor starts throwing her 'special' weather around: on Christmas morning a pair of bedraggled Italian campers were found, inside their tent, pitched between Margory and the wood pile. The kiln shed was the first building they could see when they coming off the high moor looking for shelter from squally weather. Any port in a storm, and I'm sure Margory was pleased of a bit of Christmas company.
|  30th December 2011About now a sense of panic begins to rise around the pottery at Powdermills: December having been hijacked by Christmas, we are now passed the Winter Solstice and the days are lengthening. Winter is on the downward slope to Spring, and the dates for the firing of Margory have become visible on the horizon. However, the required number of finished pots needed to fill her are not seen on the workshop shelves.
As is the common wont so close to a new year, lists are being drawn up and plans are being made. These, like school revision timetables, simply serve to confirm that I should have panicked weeks ago. The difference being, I can't wait to get on with it - weld my myself to my wheel and start shaping that amazing material, clay, into pots for somebody to take away and include in their home. Pots that will go and fulfil their destiny to brew tea or catch toast crumbs; serve hearty casseroles or store rice; pour milk and generally participate in some of the best moments in somebody's day (when they are eating or drinking!).
And so, as the school buses ready themselves to create the time in my week for pot production (lets hope snow does not thwart them) a new dawn arrives (cue image alongside) and a new year begins. Happy 2012 everybody!
|  18th November 2011My routine of winter pot-making was interrupted this week to visit Dartmoor's cousin, Exmoor. It's rather nice to be given a legitimate excuse to break with the norm and get over the cattle grid at the top of Powdermills' drive. The photo alongside shows Faye, Rob and Terry who are all connected to Exmoor's world of archaeology, and who had invited me 'up north' for the day: I was quite amazed that you can drive for two hours and still be in the same county
We had an inspiring day, blessed with fine weather, in amongst a much softer landscape than I am used to. The day trip came about because I have been asked to make another replica of a bronze age pot - this time, one that was found on Exmoor in the early 2000s. Faye and Rob had organised a day to show me where it had been found.
And so the Trevisker Project has entered a second (wiser?) phase. As before, I will be keeping a diary along the way: if you would like to read the first new entry, click on Trevisker Project from the menu on the left hand side of your screen.
|  16th November 2011The current mild, wet weather is making the ease into winter routine at the pottery rather comfortable: this time last year saw the first snowfall and falling temperatures in the workshop. In the past couple of weeks this corner of the workshop (shown in the photo alongside) has become my weekday home: the dog and I sit back to back while I get on with making pots, and he listens to Radio 4. Slowly, the shelves are filling up with new pots. Outside, the mist sits on the moor like its very own Snuggie, and most of the farmers' stock has left for the lowland farms, either to start eating into hay stocks or be sent to market. In the kiln yard, there's a pile of newly cut wood that needs to be stacked in the kiln shed when it's dry... and I think it could be sitting there for quite a while yet.... let's hope it's dry and stacked in time for Spring firings.
It's not all peace and quiet, though: there's a new, exciting project on the horizon. Tomorrow I am off to Exmoor, to discuss the possibility of continuing the Trevisker Project. Archaeologists are taking me to a site where a bronze age pot was excavated a few years ago, and to the museum in Bideford to see the reconstructed original. It may be that I will be making another replica - and hopefully having the opportunity to learn more about possible ancient making methods and materials. No doubt I will be updating progress through these pages.
|  7th November 2011This morning I had to rummage through my daughter's horse-riding gear to find her 'Please Pass Wide and Slow' high visibility jacket (memorable for the day Martin called out, as I set off with our daughter for a ride, 'Which one of you is Wide...?'). It was needed to help me comply with health and safety regulations at the clay quarry at Newton Abbot, so once it and my chainsaw helmet were successfully found, I set off in a borrowed van to collect new clay supplies.
I love my annual visit to the clay quarry. Apart from feeding my natural childhood preference for Tonka toys over Barbie, it signals the beginning of a new rhythm at the pottery: the shop is now open at reduced winter hours, and weekdays will be filled with time in the workshop. All the rush of the summer season is replaced with increasing darkness and a more slow and contemplative time of year: days spent on the wheel with a burble of Radio 4 in the background, and the rhythm of my dog's heavy breathing as he reclines on the workshop sofa while I work.
As I sat waiting in the bagging plant at East Golds quarry, I could feel a mix of zingy excitement at the prospect of getting the pots in my head out and into clay, and a deep quiet of utter contentment. God, I love what I do, and I love doing it on Dartmoor...
|  Secret Sale Shhhh! Don't tell anyone, but I have decided to have a Secret Sale - on offer only to readers of this Blog. When the Shop at Powdermills re-opens on the 29th October, the secret sale will begin and continue every weekend through until the end of February. If you make yourself known (quietly!) as a Blog-reader, you will receive a 10% discount on every item you purchase (excluding teas). What's more, if you are a Friend of the Pottery on Facebook, or a Follower on Twitter, you will receive a further 5% discount. But lets keep this just between you and me.....
|  9th October 2011This weekend saw the last of 2011's throwing courses at Powdermills. Four more, new to the potter's wheel, spent two days throwing bowls, turning foot rings, pulling handles and generally working their way through a clay mountain. It was rather lovely that two of the four had had the course given to them as a birthday present. The electric wheels will now rest until the Spring courses in April next year, waiting for four more to come and hone their skills.
Those of you wanting a last taste of Summer - or at least clotted cream and strawberry jam - should come and see us over the next five days, as Friday (14th October) is the last day we serve cream teas this year. The pottery then closes for redecoration (15-28th) and re-opens to Winter hours (Saturdays and Sundays 10am-5pm) on the 29th. And keep your eye on this blog for details of our pre-Christmas Sale, which will be posted soon...
|  2nd October 2011Still giggling at the wag who tweeted 'Greece, you can have your weather back when you've paid your bills', I forced myself to stop lolling around in the sunshine this weekend, and get on with re-insulating Marjory. I've been tucking her into swathes of ceramic fibre blanket and covering her with a new cob recipe. It seems odd to be cladding her in a warm coat when the weather is so unseasonally hot. Usually I'm putting new cob on her at the end of winter, just before spring firings, worrying all the while that it will freeze and ultimately crumble. However, as I don't think this warm weather will last as long as the Greek debt crisis, I'm glad I've got on with such early preparations.
|  29th September 2011No sooner the Autumn Equinox passes, and I have scurried around checking heating oil, wood and other supplies in preparation for the dark season, then Mother Nature deals us the warmest, sunniest days of Summer. The image alongside shows Andy turning hay in the fields alongside Powdermills (that's Bellever tor in the background). I wish you could smell just how sweet that hay is - good enough to eat.
I have spent far too much time in recent days lolling about in the sun, It's reminded me of being at school with summer exams looming - heading out of the school building towards a grassy patch clasping a text book, filled with every good intention about reading its wise words. Inevitably, the wonderful warm lethargy that comes with the feeling of the sun on your back, and the smell of grass and musty paper pages (iPads have their limitations), always led to me waking up on my back an hour later with the same text book open and resting across my face.
This is perfect weather for getting on with renewing Margory's insulation layer, and I shall be cursing this apathy when I am having to work in the rain. But you can't be a grown up all the time - as somebody probably said to Andy this morning, might as well make hay while the sun shines...
|  Winter Opening HoursThe Pottery will be closed between Saturday 15th and Friday 28th October, as the shop is being given a lick of paint. The last day on which teas will be served this year will therefore be Friday 14th. Our Winter Opening Hours (shop open weekends 10am-5pm) will start on Saturday 29th October, until Easter next year.
There is a rumour that, around the same time, my Landlord will be re-roofing the garage that I use as my pottery Workshop. I shall miss the cosy sound of rain hammering on the corrugated tin through the winter, as it is being replaced with slate. However, it will be a pleasant change not to have to dot buckets around to catch the rain water!
|  14th September 2011With the passing of Widecombe Fair, the feel of the moor begins to change: the school summer holidays are over, and so the number of visitors to the pottery will now slowly begin to decrease, and the Autumn Equinox is next week. Those of us living and working here become aware that the gentle slide into the dark season has begun, and the wise begin to make preparations whilst the weather is still fair. At the pottery, this means that Camilla the kiln must be covered over and protected in readiness for the winter storms to come in a few months time; the big kiln, Margory, will be treated to a new cover of insulation in readiness for firing in spring while it's still warm enough to work outside comfortably, and glaze-making materials must be prepared for when I disappear into the workshop for weeks of pot-making.
I love this time of year: the moor is able to breathe again; the frequent changes in the weather are reflected in the ever-changing landscape, and the potential of feeling snug builds as wood-stores fill, blackberries are jammed, and comfy slippers checked over.
I have learned over the years, however, that this feeling of preparing for hibernation brings false hope for rest. In reality, although pottery activities change with the season, they keep going at the same pace. For although the pottery shop will decrease it's opening hours mid-October to weekends only, Monday to Friday will still be spent working - but in the workshop on the other side of the yard. That said, I'm looking forward to getting back to concentrating on clay - and, as the old adage says, 'a change is as good as a rest'...
|  10th September 2011I am writing this as I unpack the first firing in Camilla, the temporary kiln. The firing finished Thursday evening, and first thing this morning the kiln had cooled enough for me to start cracking it open and taking a look inside. A tense moment - after all, today is Saturday and I must deliver the pots on Monday. I'd had difficulty right at the end of the firing: both my temperature gauges (the pyrometer, and the cones) had failed. There had been no choice but to resort to judging the temperature inside the kiln by the colour of the flame, and as I heaved the lid off the kiln, I was about to find out whether the pots were cooked, or whether I was faced with re-lighting gas burners on the night 55mph winds are forecast. Much to my continued amazement, all is well, and Camilla has produced pots for Charles' Duchy of Cornwall employees.
The picture alongside shows Camilla on wood, Helen and Tash. I must give my hearty thanks to these two for helping stoke wood during Thursday. In fact, I'd just like to pause a moment and thank all of those who have helped me over the years by regularly crewing firings: Nicola, Sue, Hannah, Judith, Jess, Tim, John, Sandy, and many others. Thank you all... I literally couldn't do it without you.
|  6th September 2011Here she is - Camilla the kiln - standing alongside Margory's kiln shed (you can just see the second chimney alongside). I've had great fun building her, out in the lashing rain and howling gales that arrived last night. I have managed to glaze the last of the pots for the Duchy commission, so, now all I have to do is pack them into Camilla and fire her in the next couple of days. Of course, she is not yet under cover, so the prospect of doing this in our current autumnal weather doesn't much appeal. Got to be done though - a promise is a promise after all.
If you would like to see how Camilla was built, then click on 'Building Camilla' in the left hand menu. She reminds me of my very first kiln here at Powdermills (Doris). Here's hoping she fires as well....
|  3rd September 2011Hearty thanks to all of you who supported the Cream Tea bonanza here last weekend: we raised £195 for Whizz Kidz, a charity aiming to help disabled kids-on-wheels live life to the full. I paid the price for handing my kitchen over, as I lost count of the number of times I said to myself the following morning 'how is it possible to get jam there...?!' as I prepared the kitchen for a normal day's trade. Other events are being planned - a Chocolate Tombola at Widecombe Fair, a Quiz Night at the Warren House Inn - if you would like to see how funds raised by Martin grow, click here.
It has recently come to my attention that the Tour of Britain Cycle Race will once again be here: on the 15th September these elite, international cyclists complete the Dartmoor leg of thieir race around the country, and will pass right past our door at around noon. Quite a spectacle, so I hope you get an opportunity to come up and cheer them on, and maybe treat yourself to a cream tea - after all, there'll then be only 5 weeks of the clotted cream season left!
I am planning to finish building the new kiln, Camilla, and fire her this week, so that I can complete the commission of little pots for the Duchy of Cornwall. What possessed me to take this on during the month with the highest visitor numbers, lord only knows. Watch this space to see how things progress....
|  Charity Cream Tea Event - Bank Holiday SundayOn Sunday 28th August (over the bank holiday weekend), I am handing over the Powdermills kitchen to a charity fund-raising charity event. A team of teachers, governors and other general hangers-on connected to South Dartmoor Community College hope to raise at least £30,000 for Whizz Kidz - a charity for wheelchair-bound kiddies - and this is one of the first fund-raising events. The finale of efforts will be when the team - including my hubby - runs the 2012 London Marathon. The picture alongside shows the very new and shiny trainers that he hopes will transport him the 26 miles around London in April (although I suspect they won't look so pristine or be so sweet-smelling by then).
It's not often you get the opportunity to indulge on clotted cream and feel saintly afterwards (after all, all profits will be donated to Whizz Kidz), so please do come along and support them. The cream tea will be a scrummy as usual, and I am sure the service will be much more entertaining....
|  13th August 2011Customers sitting in the shop enjoying a cream tea were treated to a spectacle today, for suddenly, the room was full of swallows which had swooped in through the open doorway. They gave us quite an acrobatic flying display, as they endeavoured to find their way back out - puzzled by the fact that there was clearly a large square hole in the wall, but something hard was stopping them fly through it. It is unusual for swallows not to understand glass, and when I saw another swallow hovering outside the window churping stern orders, I realised this was a first-fly. These little fellas had just left the nest and used their wings for the very first time, and it was our privilege to witness their amazement, as, like learner drivers going round a roundabout too fast, they were finding how their wings worked with an air of rising panic.
As they found their way out one by one, I toddled over to my workshop, for these excitable fledglings had emerged from a nest in there. Earlier in the year I had tried to discourage the parent swallows from nesting in my workshop because I have to lock the door overnight, however, I had failed. After a while we found an agreed a rhythm whereby, like the hens, I opened the door in the morning and closed them in at night.
Sure enough, up in the workshop rafters was this little fella, perched on the platform edge like Tom Daley, gathering courage to dive for the first time. Whilst his siblings were out in the yard discovering the new skills of swooping, turning and flying in team unison, this one clearly thought better of it. Well, there's a metaphor for life, thought I. And yes, I checked later and he had successfully taken the leap of faith...
|  5th August 2011...And then, as if by magic, Martin from RR Transport arrives with Camilla's bricks. At more than £2 a brick, there's no going back now.... Let the kiln-building begin! |  3rd August 2011I've had a complete change of plan! The school summer holidays have brought the busiest trading weeks of the year, and, even though I am using every hour available to me before and after opening hours, it has slowly dawned on me that I will not fill Marjory by the end of August. It just ain't gonna happen, however big the pots I make.
The school summer holidays has also meant that my family have gone away for a week, which has not only resulted in me having gloriously irresponsible meals (chips, a handful of honey roast peanuts and half a bottle of dry white being one), but also some quiet thinking time. As a result, I've decided on a complete change of plan: I'm not going to attempt to fill cavernous Marjory, I'm going to build a small kiln alongside her.
So, grasping the nettle, I went back to my supplier of kiln bricks and refractory 'stuff', who I haven't ordered from since I built Marjory, and was hugely relieved to find him still in business - so many of these little guys haven't survived the economic gloom in this industry. I ordered kiln bricks, then had to go and lie down at how quickly modern technology facilitates the spending of this amount of money. Anyhoo, the bricks arrive Friday, I shall be wielding a chainsaw in the rain tonight, clearing an offensive rhododendron from the new kiln site (shown opposite), and I calculate that it won't take long to complete the build.
Those of you who have followed this Blog for a while will have noticed that all of my kilns are given female names. The commission of pots for the Duchy will be in the first firing and should just about cover the cost of materials, and so I'm tempted to name the new kiln Camilla!
|  17th July 2011In the last few days, I have been very pleased that I decided not to put up the marquee in the pottery yard this year. In years gone by, it served as a useful bit of shade in a hot, sunny courtyard, providing a cool place to sit and have a cream tea. However, this week, as has often been the case in the last few years, the wind speeds have whipped up. It's been lovely sinking under my quilt at night, drifting off to sleep listening to the wind howling down the chimney, knowing that I would not have to go out and hang on a guy rope trying to prevent lift off, or spend an hour in the morning collecting miscellaneous yard furniture from amongst the cows over the wall.
Progress has been slow in the pottery workshop, as I endeavour to make a kiln-load of pots before the firing in early September. It's difficult to get in there when both the pottery opening hours are at their maximum, and we are still taxi-ing kids to after-school clubs in all corners of the region. I can feel panic rising as I wonder if I may have bitten off more than I can chew... but I suppose that's just what you need to keep you workng full pelt.
It is my aim, in the interests of filling the kiln speedily, and also as an opportunity to push my throwing skills, to make big pots. I am gradually increasing the weight of clay I am throwing with, to see where my top limit is: so far, I'm up to 25lb. It's been fun working out how to grapple with this amount of mud on a momentum wheel which spins so slowly. We'll see how much further I push it....!
|  1st July 2011I am aware that my long-haired border collie, Ben, has a big fan base amongst visitors to the pottery. In fact, last year, a lady from Austria made the trip to Powdermills just to play with him for an hour, after a wait of five years. I therefore feel I should report that, heavily influenced by the Specsavers advert, and ever optimistic that summer will be too hot for him, he's had a haircut. I'll let you know when he starts speaking to me again.....
If you would like to see the TV ad, Click Here. According to the blurb on YouTube, the crofter character is called Arthur, and the dog is..... you guessed it.... Ben...
|  27th June 2011I decided a few weeks ago that the film which explains how I make pots needed updating. Judging by the size of my son in that film, I think it must have been made about seven years ago, and I thought it would be an opportunity to lose images of a disastrous haircut and a backside which filled a larger pair of jeans. I approached Dartmoor's own wonderful photographer and film-maker, Chris Chapman. Chris decided that the original film-maker, Caedmin Mullin, had filmed the images so well it didn't need re-shooting, instead all it needed was a new voice-over and some editing. Chris set about doing just that, and the new version of the film can be viewed on the Pottery page of this website. Thank you Mr Chapman.
As well as all this media excitement, work has started in earnest making pots for the kiln-firing in September. The Duchy of Cornwall commission has been confirmed, so I now have just the deadline I need to panic me into action. Last week was spent doing all the preparations that the pottery film explains, grinding glaze materials and sieving slips, but this week the pot-making began. I have decided to make big pots and really push my throwing skills to their current limit and beyond: I want to find the biggest weight of clay I can throw. And what fun I am having - I feel I am creating large blank clay canvases for the fire to paint in the kiln.
It's not easy to find workshop time in the main summer season, so I am aiming to make one large pot before the pottery opens, and, when Mummy duties allow, one in the evening. The hour in the morning between dropping off at the school bus and opening the pottery is usually spent going for a run or walk with the dog. This is having to be sacrificed, so my backside is slowly expanding back into those jeans filmed seven years ago...
| Link to Chris Chapman's website:Click Here
| Link to Caedmin Mullin's website:Click Here
|  26th June 2011It must be the altitude: there's something about Dartmoor that makes people do daft sporty things. Last month countless schools released huge numbers of teenagers onto the moor to complete the army-organised Ten Tors orienteering race which lasts a whole weekend. A couple of weeks later we had runners passing the pottery, as they participated in the annual Dartmoor Ultra-Marathon. (The 'Ultra' part of that title is very important, as the competitors completed a gruelling marathon involving long and steep hills.... and then did a further six miles uphill to Princetown. Bonkers.) Yesterday we witnessed hundreds of bike-riders passing us as they took part in 106 mile Dartmoor Classic bike ride, which must have gone up and down every hill Dartmoor has to offer.
All of these events are so slickly organised you may never even know they are happening, and so little disruption is caused. You can either choose to get involved or let it pass you by. There's only one sport that takes place regularly on Dartmoor that we can not avoid whether we like it or not: it seems to be stuck in a Catherine Cookson novel, tramples across your land with no consideration for livestock or children, parks cars on your drive (and has tantrums should you actually dare to suggest they move to let customers through), blocks roads and generally demonstrates behaviour similar to Violet Elizabeth Bott in Just Willam. Oh, and it's illegal. Bet you can't guess which sport that is....
|  7th June 2011After due discussion this week, it came to light that I may be asked to make a number of pots for my landlord's organisation, the Duchy of Cornwall (it's not definite yet, price and budget to be compared - I may be too expensive!). If this commission gets off the ground, it would mean that I must fire Margory in early September.
Firing Margory so early in the autumn is not something I would normally contemplate: I cannot fire Margory unless all 85 cubic feet of her is full, and making that number of pots whilst the pottery is operating summer hours and teas are being served is not an easy feat. However, once I started working out whether it could be done, I got excited about all the other pots I would like to make to go it that firing, the ones I have had in my head since the last one, with reduction red clay, black trapped carbon, granite grey glaze and dripping with ash. I soon decided that not only could it be done, but I would do it regardless of whether the Duchy commission comes to fruition or not.
So today, the workshop sprang into action, and preparations are underway for pot-making in earnest. Like a pagan witch, I have been stirring up potions of wood ash, and grinding up river gravel like a woman possessed (pictured right). Suddenly I have a new zip: it's not that I don't enjoy serving my customers and preparing cream teas - I do - however, it's not what I gave the day-job up for, and it's the smell of the workshop that makes my fingers tingle and puts a spring in my step! Looks like it's going to be a busy summer...
|  1st June 2011I was delighted to find that Powdermills is featured in the summer issue of Dartmoor Magazine as a destination for a good cream tea. Naturally, to me, the nicest part of the tea is the pots they are served in, however, I have a sneaky feeling that the scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam (all locally produced) might also have something to do with this accolade. We haven't always had sunshine in which to sit and sup so far this season, but it seems that the roaring woodburner is a welcome substitute.
On the subject of roaring fires, I toddled up to my local pub over the bank holiday weekend: (the Warren House Inn is famous for its fire which had been burning since 1845). It's always a pleasure to visit the Warren, but this time I had a specific purpose - I knew that morris dancers were to perform. What a spectacle: there were four troupes (or whatever the collective noun for morris dancers is), two from Devon, one from Sheffield, and one from Scotland: they totalled about 80 and were on tour. We had a fabulous afternoon watching them dance inside and outside the pub with hankies, sticks, swords and clogs. It was a jolly mix of jingle bells, top hats, fiddlers and drums combined with the Warren's backdrop of the misty Dartmoor landscape.
Having gotten into conversation with one of the merry men, it would seem that morris dancing is England's treasure - the welsh have their language, the scots have bagpipes, we have morris dancing. Apparently, it was banned in Cromwell's time and when royalty was restored, celebrations were led by morris men. From this time, I am told, morris dancing was given a special status, which, even today, makes it exempt from the need for musicians and dancers to get an Entertainment License before performing. Never thought I'd get all patriotic about men with hankies....
|  23rd May 2011One of the lovely people who came to the throwing course in May, e-mailed me a link today. It took me to a film posted on YouTube by the Goldmark Gallery, featuring Svend Bayer. I am an unashamed Svend groupie, and had a wonderful time musing the film - I recommend any of you interested in watching pots being thrown and wood-fired slowly does too (I've given a link below). It's a privilege to listen to Makers talk about their pots.
The Goldmark Gallery has become rather legendary in the last year or two. Nic Collins, another pottery hero of mine, had an exhibition there earlier this year, and he showed me the luscious catalogues they produce, with a the DVD alongside (the film featuring Nic is also on YouTube). What a wonderful way of putting the Potter in the centre of his work on exhibition.
If you would like to take a peek at the Goldmark films, click here.
|  8th May 2001This weekend has brought a mixture of happy and sad moments. On the sad side, Hamilton the Powdermills cockerel died: he will be missed, especially by those customers who furtively fed him scone crumbs as he waited patiently under the picnic tables. It seems stangely quiet without his crowing echoing around the pottery, and his ladies look a little lost without him. This photo of Hamilton in his prime is copyrighted to John Pollex, who kindly posted it on our Facebook page when he heard the news. |  On a more cheery side, this weekend saw the last of the Spring Throwing courses, and another four enthusiastic, budding potters have left with a new toolkit of pot-making skills. By the end of the two days, they had tackled throwing pots on the wheel, making galleried rims to support lids, shaping pots into bellied forms, making handles, and carving footrings on the bottom of bowls. They bounced out of the workshop this afternoon ready to face whatever the world of clay threw at them when they got home to their own wheels. Fabulous. |  27th April 2011I have a friend, self-employed, who enters time in her diary each week to 'Have Fun'. She is then strict enough, should work-demands threaten that slot , to say 'no I'm sorry, I have an appointment at that time'. After all, as we know, All Work and No Play makes Jack a Very Dull Boy, and if weekends are not alloted, work-free zones must be created. For me, when the kids are at school, I have an hour between waving off the school bus and opening the pottery. This is when I whistle for the dog and head for the hills.
This morning, yet another gorgeous one in this run of good weather, I headed up to the tors behind the pottery. I found myself stopping every ten paces to marvel at something: watching skylarks rising up vertically, singing all the way, until enough height is reached for them to glide down to their destination; listening to a robin make a bird-call like a pogo-stick that needs oiling; enjoying buzzards playing 'who can glide on this thermal the longest without having to flap their wings'. It's such a simple pleasure, taking the time to look at things. Maybe it's something I have discovered with age, or maybe it's because I haven't been here long (well, not by Dartmoor standards). I had to giggle at myself waxing lyrical this morning - a friend came to mind who has lived here considerably longer than me, and who has been heard to say over a pint at the Warren, 'it's great hearing the cuckoo early in the year because it's a sign of summer, but after a while you can't help wishing it would shut up....'
The photo, by the way, is of Gary at the Postbridge Information Centre. I took him a cream tea when I popped in to see the replica Trevisker pot I made last year. The pot is included in the Going For Bronze exhibition, which is at Postbridge for the next two years.
|  18th April 2011I heard the cuckoo today at Powdermills for the first time this year. I had been listening out, as others had told me that they had been heard on other parts of the moor. A cuckoo usually takes up residence in the trees amongst the old gunpowder factory ruins behind us. A welcome sound of summer.
I've heard it said that on the lowlands around the moor, swallows have been spotted in the past week. Powdermills usually gets a flock of both swallows and house martins, so I'm keeping my beady eye out for the wonderful display of acrobatics that these fork-tailed fellows give each year.
|  11th April 2011I spent today, between customers, slowly unpacking pots from inside Margory. She took five days to cool down enough to let me peek in (I have to wait until the risk of cracking pots by letting cool air in too soon has passed), and today revealed the fruits of the winter's efforts.
I reached a new understanding with Margory during this firing, and I am beginning to realise how to coax her to top temperature throughout her length... something I have always struggled with. This time there are far fewer under-fired pots than in the past. A good number of them have been glazed with sufficient ash, which tells me that the firing was about the right length, and some also have the black carbon trapping under the glaze which I love so much.
This firing would have been a better one if I had managed just one more thing: to keep enough air out of the kiln to hold the red flashing on the surface of the clay. A small number of pots have maintained this reddish tinge, and they are a league ahead of the others... it's a shame a greater number don't exhibit it. This shows that, probably during the cooling of the kiln, too much air got in. It could be that the outside insulation layer needs replacing, or, it could be that the potter forgot to clam up two holes in the kiln at the end (I remembered whilst in my post-firing bath, and dashed out sporting towel and shampoo, much to the surprise of the two crew who had lingered by the kiln to sup tea).
I feel as though I am one or two firings away from a fabulous firing with Margory. It's frustrating that it will take me so long to fill and fire her again (such an irritation, having to earn money during the summer!). Or maybe that belief is what your brain creates to keep you going.
I should also mention that the kiln repair undertaken before Christmas (click Kiln Repair in the menu on the left for more details) stayed strong.
I have always insisted on making tableware in my anagama-type kiln, which means I must ensure that the surface of the pots can be put to lips, handled in the washing up, and generally function. However, I am beginning to feel a yearning to create some work that screams anagama - clay that has had colours sucked out of it when sitting inside piles of embers for days on end, clothed in ash-carrying flame until they drip with glaze, mis-shapen with the intense heat, and speak of fire and earth. I wonder where this will take me....
|  6th April 2011Well, much to my surprise, the firing of Margory finished today, at least twelve hours earlier than expected. Usually, I find getting Margory to top temperature a real struggle, but this time she seemed quite happy to oblige... almost too willing to oblige...
Although, ultimately, you don't know how the firing has gone until you unpack it, the days it takes for the kiln to cool are spent trying to analyse what felt good about it, and what didn't. This is the agony I will be going through for the next few days, until the kiln can be cracked open and the truth can finally be revealed. The thoughts whirling around my head at the moment are: as the firing was so short, will there be enough wood ash on the pots to glaze them sufficiently? In the attempt to get the pots at the back of the kiln up to temperature, have I let too much air in at the front? Did the pots at the back reach top temperature (the temperature indicators, or cones, were knocked out of position so I had to guess the temperature by looking at the colour of the flame)? How have the autumn repairs to the kiln held up? And so on, and so on....
The photo shows Tash, Applied Arts student at PCAD, side-stoking Margory on Tuesday. I would like take the opportunity this Blog provides to thank Tash, Louisa, Tim, Judith, Sandy, Svend, and others like them. Without a merry band of volunteer crew, I simply couldn't do it.
And so the long wait begins: I'll update again when the kiln's unpacked.
|  5th April 2011The firing of the kiln is underway: the match was lit on Sunday night and, hopefully, wood piles permitting, we will stoke her through to Thursday. The first night was wild - strong winds and lashing rain, followed by pea-soup mists - which made the crew's drive onto the moor to start their night-time shifts interesting. Some of the maddest crew-volunteers cycled 12 miles up hills to get here! What a fabulous bunch of helpers...
I'll keep you posted as we progress through the week. You can also find Powdermills Pottery on Facebook (press the Like button above) and take a look at the photos posted there.
|  30th March 2011This is it, the final straight. Marjory is being fired next week (Sunday-Thursday), and so I am spending three, probably four, days packing pots into her. It's raining, and each time I go into the kiln shed with an armful of pots, I marvel at the woodpiles, feeling relieved that I got the wood stacked under cover while it was dry. The firing crew rota is complete. I've even thought to renew the wiring on the thermocouple (as the only bit of technology involved in this primitive way of firing pots, it's usually the bit that goes wrong). Although the bank account is desperate, waiting for Easter and the summer season to begin, I can't help but be grateful for the extra time a late Easter gives for completing the winter task of pot-making.
Marjory is an anagama-type kiln, and has a tunnel, fifteen feet long, into which the pots are placed. This means that in order to pack her, I must crawl into the tunnel, with pots, kiln shelves, kiln props, and other paraphenalia. Once in, Rubik could not invent a more frustrating puzzle: building up pots of different heights, shapes and widths, balancing straight-sided kiln shelves and props to fill a rounded arch shape. It requires a flexible body, love of detail, patience and a calm nature.... none of which am I known for.
She's a big girl, Margory, so I will be firing all of the Winter's work in one go. It's a risky approach: if this firing goes wrong, all of the winter's graft will be lost, and there will be no pots to sell during the main season. But at least it means I only have to go through the frustration of kiln-packing once!
|  24th March 2011Final touches are being made to ready the pottery to receive customers on a daily basis from 9th April: the kitchen has been scrubbed down and re-stocked ready for the first cream teas of the season (Mother's Day weekend); new picnic benches and optimistic parasols are being assembled; and our illustrious landlord has decided to touch up the exterior paintwork (maybe it's preparation for The family Wedding....?). The photo shows Ken, the painter, who has been making best use of a recent run of fair weather: the good-as-new paintwork, together with the new signs and yard furniture makes the pottery yard look rather smart. Proper job. |  12th March 2011This week is a big milestone - it's the last week of pot-making for this winter: the summer season, increased Shop opening hours and cream teas beckon.... I must finish so that I can pack and fire the kiln in time for the 9th April.
It's bitter-sweet moment. This has been the first time in twelve years I have been brave enough, financially, to reduce winter Shop opening hours to weekends only. It has been wonderful having five months of Mondays-Fridays dedicated to the making of pots. In the past week, I have felt a definite step forward in my journey as a potter - my skills benefitting from a concentrated period of time in the workshop. The joy of that progress is tinged with only a little sadness that I must now reduce my making hours for the summer. However, pots must be sold as well as made....
I decided that this milestone should be celebrated. For twelve years now, I have been making pots wearing overalls left behind by Powdermills' last resident potter - Nic Collins. So, I thought an apt way to mark the winter's achievements would be to award myself my very own, correctly sized, set. I would have accompanied this entry with a photo of me sporting them, but a boiler suit is so remarkably unflattering, my vanity prevented it. Instead, here they are looking clean, pressed and fresh from the packet for the last time, poised and ready for action on the wheel on Monday...
|  8th March 2011Teapots. I can understand why many potters don't bother making them, for they are time-consuming things to make. All the bits - body, spout, lid, handle - made separately, but they must fit together and look as though they were always one pot.
In this photo, you can see on the right a teapot body, ready to receive it's already-shaped spout that stands next to it. On the left, an example of them joined. Much faffing is involved in just this one step....Is the line made by the spout coming from the bottom of the body right?... Similarly, do I like the line made as the spout flows out from the top of the body?.... Have I cut the end of the spout at the right height so that tea will not spill from under the lid when pouring?... Is the edge of the spout sharp enough to minimise dripping?... And so on.
I was quite please with the progress of the joined example on the left. All the more annoying, then, that I'd forgotten to cut the holes before putting the spout on....
|  5th March 2011It's not often I manage to get over the cattle grid and into the world beyond the edges of Dartmoor, but today, not only did I drive beyond the moor's outer reaches, I went right into the centre of the 'big smoke'.... Exeter.
Henrietta Quinell, expert archaeologist, who, some of you may remember, advised me when I was commissioned to make a replica bronze age pot last year (see Trevisker Project page on this website), was holding a seminar for the Devon Archeological Society. She was sharing her conclusions, having studied pottery pieces found at an archaeological dig on Dartmoor - at the Bronze Age round house at Teigncombe. She and Roger Taylor, geologist, had analysed the clays and other materials of which the pots had been made. As a modern day potter endeavouring to work with clays and rock minerals found around the moor, being given the opportunity to learn something of how they did it 3,500 years ago was marvellous.
Henrietta displayed a number of pottery sherds that had been excavated at Teigncombe, and among them was this old friend. Those of you who followed the progress of the Trevisker Project will recognise it as the sherd I was allowed to work with when making the replica. As part of the seminar, Henrietta had asked me to explain to the group how I went about making the replica, which was a humbling experience with all those eminent brains in attendance.
Driving home after an unusual and lovely day, I reflected on how the Trevisker Project had brought me back to why I wanted to be a potter all those years ago. My first, early experiments centred on the childish delight in collecting clay from an Essex estuary, fashioning a pot (badly), and trying to cook it back to rock in a bonfire (with some successes). The simple alchemy of mud and fire.... wonderful...
|  3rd March 2011I had the delight of a visit today by Colin Pearse, who many of you will know as farmer of Dartmoor white-faced sheep, author of books, and star of Chris Chapman's Wild River, Cold Stone film. He is also a poet. For years, he has spun his thoughts into verse, inspired by the landscape, wildlife and humanlife of Dartmoor which surround him as he tends his flock.
Colin has decided to capture his poems between the covers of a book, beside photographs from his own collection, and publish it. Later this year, we will be able to soak up his wonder of the moor by reading his words. See that folder tucked under his arm? That's part of the original manuscript. He came to see me today, as the book is also to include a section introducing the reader to others who work, live on, and are influenced by, Dartmoor. He's asked if I would consider being included. What a privilege!
Who knows if I make it to the final edit of the book, but of one thing I can be certain - once published and launched, I will be selling it at The Shop at Powdermills Pottery.
|  18th February 2011Those regular readers who have a Facebook profile will have noticed that Powdermills Pottery disappeared from Facebook just before Christmas. It wasn't intentional, it was caused by one accidental and irreversible key stroke by Yours Truly. However, we have returned from social network oblivion, and the Powdermills Pottery profile page is up and running again. If you are on Facebook, and would like to be told when this Blog is updated, then click on the 'Like' button at the top of this page.
The other significant step undertaken this week, is that I have set a firing date: it is planned that Margory will be fired during the last week of March. So now the search is one for willing victims to help me stoke the kiln around the clock for four days and nights. Should you, or someone you know, be willing to work night shifts, move tonnes of firewood around, and have slight pyromaniac tendencies - in return for accommodation and meals - do let me know!
|  11th February 2011This week brought that special kind of breezy weather so well known to Powdermills (gales measuring about 40mph). Its victim this time was the wood shed - bits of tin peeling off like foil from a Creme Egg. What a dilemma: should I spend the day making pots to fill the kiln, or should I preserve the dryness of the wood to fuel the kiln? In the end, I decided to move three tonnes of wood, re-stacking it under cover: the firing is only a few weeks away, and you can't reach 1325°c on wet wood. However, as I did, it was if I could hear pots drying out in the workshop before I'd managed to put handles on them.
Whilst to-ing and fro-ing between sheds with barrows of wood, I had time to reflect on how big a deal firing pots is when you have a slow, wood-fired kiln. You have to share your focus between the pot-making process and the firing event. Whilst making pots, a voice is nagging in my head: "Is there enough wood? Is it dry? Have I got crew? What will I feed them?" Such a contrast to a firing I did in an electric kiln last year: plug in the kiln, set the programmer, press ON..... Is that it? I kept wandering back, standing in front of it, feeling I should be doing something. It made me realise that making pots the way I do is like feeding the dragon: like a primeval drive to apease the Spirits!
...cont'd...
|  Meanwhile, on the other side of the yard, preparations for the visiting season are underway. Spring is coming, and the Winter's pot-making starts to overlap with the need to get ready for the main Summer season.
Let me introduce you to some of the gang who have contributed to a mini-facelift at Powdermills in the past couple of weeks.....
First of all, Geoff, electrician and local handyman, who has been fixing a new tongue-and-groove ceiling in the customer loo. He's also been tiling in the kitchen where cream teas are prepared.... |  ... And this is Kevin from Jag Signs. Kevin spent a couple of hours in the Dartmoor drizzle today, fixing replacement signs around the pottery yard..... |  ....Then Phil arrived from Mole Valley Farmers, with new outside tables for our customers to use whilst supping tea in the summer sunshine, and a variety of yard furnishings including some ever-optimistic planters.
Tomorrow I shall be setting the date for firing the kiln. Hopefully, this will help focus my mind on making the remaining pots needed to fill Margory, and stop distracting myself with transforming those flat-packs into sturdy garden benches....
|  14th January 2011With the last of the snow on the high ground gone, Dartmoor's weather seems to have got back to normal for this time of year - gales and lashing rain. Powdermills is surrounded on two sides by streams, and two sides by bog. When the water levels rise as high as they are now, the pottery feels like a crouton floating around on moorland soup. That's the good thing about spending long hours in the workshop at this time of year - you don't feel like you're missing anything going on outside! And I have had a lovely few days making lidded jars... from little sugar pots right up to large bread crocks.
For me, two of the greatest potters walking the Earth are Svend Bayer and Clive Bowen, so what better way to start the week than by pouring over examples of jars made by them (can it still be called work when it's this pleasurable)? Having studied every lovely detail of them and reaquainted myself with why I think their pots are so fabulous, the rest of my time has been spent on the wheel attempting my own design, and endeavouring to make them half so well.
It's no surprise that my prototypes pale into insignificance when placed next to those made with the Masters' eye and skill, but I loved every minute of making them, and I'm eagerly awaiting their development over the next few days....
|  8th January 2010This week has a real get-up-and-go feel to it: with the kids back at school everything eases into some sort of comfortable rut again. Although I have been a very good girl, and been disciplined in my pot-making between the end of the selling season and the new year, it can't help but be interrupted by the long run-up to the festive season. Consequently, although pots are on the shelves waiting patiently for firing day, there simply ain't enough, and the pressure is on to pick up the production rate for the next two months.
Thankfully, with the Winter Solstice passing, the days are slowly (sometimes imperceivably) getting longer. I find that, just as when the days are shortening in the last quarter of the year I have to push against the natural need to slow down and hibernate, once we start to move towards the Equinox I find my energy starts to increase with the light. So, I'm happily undertaking day-and-night hours in the workshop. It's kind of convenient that the snow came in December: I am rashly hoping that it will stay away in our usually snowy months of January and February, so that this production spurt remains uninterrupted.... and the workshop remains warm enough for human habitation (not just the mice).
This time of year isn't only about making next season's stock: there is much planning and preparing going on for the return of summer season opening hours. New Makers are being invited to join those selling their work through The Shop at Powdermills, and, as it arrives, much thought is going into its display. The pottery yard is undergoing some changes to allow visitors to tour around the pottery workshop and kiln yard: this has been possible informally for many years, but I am looking to better organise matters so that visitors see more, and are given more detailed information about how pots are made here. Signage is being renewed, paint splashed about, and a new baby-changing area planned near the customer loos.
However, many of you will be pleased to know that, having considered what needs to be changed about the cream teas for 2011, I have decided to leave them just the way they are....
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