The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Sinusoidal waveforms—more commonly known as sine waves—are representations of energetic displacement through periodic oscillation. While they aren’t visible to the eye, they underpin our lives through sound, light, electricity, and even our own heartbeats. Drawing inspiration from everything from these sine waves to the human figure, potter Ben Eberle’s gestural, bodily vessels are the product of a decades-long intrapersonal interrogation of the intersection of form and function. Stark lines contrast rounded forms in Eberle’s stylized functional wares. His highly considered relationships between vessel, spout, and handle draw the user in; they’re the kind of vessels you crave to hold.
“I’m really trying to make pots that are volumetric, sensual, have the continuous unbroken curve, the smooth line,” he explains. “I work with these wood blocks and it’s like dropping a needle on a record. Once you start the imprint and start pressing it, as soon as you stop, the line is broken and it’s jagged. You broke the deal. It’s really loose and fluid.”
Making Impressions
While exploring texture on pottery started as a respite from the throes of graduate school “just to keep [his] sanity,” it quickly became Eberle’s lifelong practice. “Throwing pottery is like breathing air, drinking water,” he explains. He found himself “trying everything” in his experimentation with texture and alteration of form and estimates one in a hundred pots he threw had potential, but by and large, Eberle says “there just was nothing refined about them.”
“It’s like somebody who learns a scale playing the guitar and you start throwing notes and there is no tempo, no beat, no rhythm, no direction. It’s just noise,” he says. Through one-in-a-hundred successful pots, Eberle learned what made a successful relationship between form and alteration within his work. “It had balance, it had gesture, it had aesthetic beauty, maybe some symmetry, it had vitality, maybe a human figurative aspect. What mark or marks are going to amplify that?” he asks. Homing in on these elements, Eberle uses a pony roller to create his signature gestures and makes marks by pressing the interior of the vessel with his hand, creating sweeping curves and jutting edges that assert themselves on the exteriors of his thrown forms.
“It’s a swing. You know the rhythm of the wheel and you’re so in tune with it; you know where the pressure point is, so you know when to let go and it’s done,” Eberle says. Through all his experimentation, Eberle has developed a process he describes as being “very slow, very procedural,” with a making cycle that ebbs and flows in frequency, often attuned to any number of other obligations in the potter’s life like workshops, firings, and home studio renovations. He says this experimentation has proven itself integral to his artistic development.
“If you’re too calculated, too tight-minded, too scared, too self-limited, you won’t grow. If you don’t experiment, you’ll just be handcuffed,” Eberle says. “As you get through the 10,000-pot rule—maybe the 50,000-pot rule—then you get to be your own best judge. You get to know when you’ve done something good.”
In the language of his mark-making artistic practice, wood-soda firing is the fluency that brings Eberle’s work together. Though one might not be able to tell from a look at Eberle’s full body of work, his palette is quite simple: three slips and four glazes, and the kiln does the rest. The range of wood-soda firing lends itself to a vast array of surfaces and Eberle likes it all. “I love the quiet, dry pots that just get a flash. I love the super-slam, juicy, carbon-bomb pots. I love pots that are wicked ashy, and I love pots that just have a sheen. I literally like it all, and I get it all every firing,” he says.
Finding Footing
“I love firing kilns,” Eberle says, laughing. “I’ve never met a kiln I never want to fire. I almost like firing more than making, and I love teaching firing because it’s not taught a ton.” As an undergraduate student, Eberle cut his teeth firing behemoth force-draft kilns and a Phoenix wood kiln under the direction of Regis Brodie at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, New York. He quickly developed a feeling that his passion for firing was unique and that he wanted to have a better grip on firing techniques to better understand the possibilities. “Each fire is different,” he explains. “You just came to expect the unexpected; every time you thought you really had it down, you didn’t.”
At 23, Eberle took on an apprenticeship under Toshiko Takaezu, where he learned the vastness in variation of approaches to firing, something he has carried with him in his artistic practice ever since. Having learned how differently each artist approaches firings after Takaezu’s apprenticeship and a seminal firing experience with Chris Gustin, he decided he wanted to have a kiln that brings people together in community through the shared firing experience. “That’s kind of what I have now and I love it,” he says.
“Good kilns make great pots, but great kilns make community,” Eberle says. Having learned from so many potters throughout his career, Eberle sees passing the torch as vital to the longevity of atmospheric firing. “I have the wackiest, craziest setup,” Eberle says of his home studio—a small room in his currently under-renovation 1790s historic home in Conway, Massachusetts, outfitted with a pug mill, two electric kilns, a wedging table, a small worktable, two wheels, and shelves. He says his setup is great for what he is doing, but the real game-changer is keeping his clay mixer outside to free up space and reduce worry about reclaim. As a long-term goal in the renovation process for Eberle’s home studio, he plans to build a bigger pavilion with another kiln based on a previous wood-soda anagama kiln, that came together in such a way that he refers to it as his “Karma Kiln,” and potentially another experimental atmospheric kiln. He has the eventual goal of starting an apprenticeship program for students interested in firing, modeled after his own experience apprenticing for Takaezu, as well as a shorter-term internship program that he hopes might turn into a feeder for the apprenticeship.
Just 15 minutes away from his home studio, through a rather serendipitous coincidence, the Karma Kiln was born. Eberle decided to put this spirit of community into action and nearby, his friend Molly Cantor’s kiln pavilion sat vacant. The two set to work, and the rest is history.
Twice a year, he leads a workshop in wood-soda firing for students to experience, learn, and practice together, in which he covers everything from important temperatures in the firing process, to kiln protection, to how dampers work, to the physics of chimneys. The more he teaches workshops, he says, the more he realizes how niche an area it is and how there aren’t many opportunities to learn the intricacies of firing. “It feels cool to be sort of an oracle about that and to really help people out,” he says.
It Takes a Village
Eberle doesn’t take it for granted that he gets to make pottery every day. There’s an underlying pressure in the arts to suffer for the sake of one’s artistry, but Eberle disagrees. “Give up if you’re going to starve, seriously,” he says. “It’s really hard. Give up if you can’t see how you make your car payment or make your rent or have healthcare. It’s nuts.” Although he occasionally accepts teaching opportunities, his practice is his full-time focus.
Eberle’s education throughout his decades of professional practice was only possible because of the knowledge and insight of those who came before him. “Never stop being curious,” he stresses. Regardless of how long a person has been doing it, how much they’ve made, how many kilns they’ve fired, or how much they’ve taught, Eberle is adamant that there is always more for any potter to learn. Atmospheric firing has long relied on this spirit of community and shared pursuit of knowledge to hone the craft and advance the field. Information passed down through generations and learning by doing are the very structural tenets of atmospheric firing, and complicated, precise methods mean that the free-sharing of knowledge is essential to any potter’s success.
“Whatever you’ve got in abundance—if it’s time, if it’s knowledge, if it’s cone-6 stoneware or glaze recipes, or a kiln, or space, patience, a story, give it. It will come back.”
the author Julia Weber is a freelance arts journalist and ceramic artist currently based in Athens, Ohio. She holds a bachelor of science in journalism through Ohio University’s Honors Tutorial College where she conducted research on the role of the artist-journalist in contemporary visual art and cultural criticism. She is currently completing her master of arts administration through Ohio University’s Chaddock + Morrow College of Fine Arts.
We understand your email address is private. You will receive emails and newsletters from Ceramic Arts Network. We will never share your information except as outlined in our privacy policy. You can unsubscribe at any time.
Please enjoy this complimentary article for the month.
For unlimited access to Ceramics Monthly premium content, please subscribe.
We understand your email address is private. You will receive emails and newsletters from Ceramic Arts Network. We will never share your information except as outlined in our privacy policy. You can unsubscribe at any time.
Subscribe to Ceramics Monthly
The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Sinusoidal waveforms—more commonly known as sine waves—are representations of energetic displacement through periodic oscillation. While they aren’t visible to the eye, they underpin our lives through sound, light, electricity, and even our own heartbeats. Drawing inspiration from everything from these sine waves to the human figure, potter Ben Eberle’s gestural, bodily vessels are the product of a decades-long intrapersonal interrogation of the intersection of form and function. Stark lines contrast rounded forms in Eberle’s stylized functional wares. His highly considered relationships between vessel, spout, and handle draw the user in; they’re the kind of vessels you crave to hold.
“I’m really trying to make pots that are volumetric, sensual, have the continuous unbroken curve, the smooth line,” he explains. “I work with these wood blocks and it’s like dropping a needle on a record. Once you start the imprint and start pressing it, as soon as you stop, the line is broken and it’s jagged. You broke the deal. It’s really loose and fluid.”
Making Impressions
While exploring texture on pottery started as a respite from the throes of graduate school “just to keep [his] sanity,” it quickly became Eberle’s lifelong practice. “Throwing pottery is like breathing air, drinking water,” he explains. He found himself “trying everything” in his experimentation with texture and alteration of form and estimates one in a hundred pots he threw had potential, but by and large, Eberle says “there just was nothing refined about them.”
“It’s like somebody who learns a scale playing the guitar and you start throwing notes and there is no tempo, no beat, no rhythm, no direction. It’s just noise,” he says. Through one-in-a-hundred successful pots, Eberle learned what made a successful relationship between form and alteration within his work. “It had balance, it had gesture, it had aesthetic beauty, maybe some symmetry, it had vitality, maybe a human figurative aspect. What mark or marks are going to amplify that?” he asks. Homing in on these elements, Eberle uses a pony roller to create his signature gestures and makes marks by pressing the interior of the vessel with his hand, creating sweeping curves and jutting edges that assert themselves on the exteriors of his thrown forms.
“It’s a swing. You know the rhythm of the wheel and you’re so in tune with it; you know where the pressure point is, so you know when to let go and it’s done,” Eberle says. Through all his experimentation, Eberle has developed a process he describes as being “very slow, very procedural,” with a making cycle that ebbs and flows in frequency, often attuned to any number of other obligations in the potter’s life like workshops, firings, and home studio renovations. He says this experimentation has proven itself integral to his artistic development.
“If you’re too calculated, too tight-minded, too scared, too self-limited, you won’t grow. If you don’t experiment, you’ll just be handcuffed,” Eberle says. “As you get through the 10,000-pot rule—maybe the 50,000-pot rule—then you get to be your own best judge. You get to know when you’ve done something good.”
In the language of his mark-making artistic practice, wood-soda firing is the fluency that brings Eberle’s work together. Though one might not be able to tell from a look at Eberle’s full body of work, his palette is quite simple: three slips and four glazes, and the kiln does the rest. The range of wood-soda firing lends itself to a vast array of surfaces and Eberle likes it all. “I love the quiet, dry pots that just get a flash. I love the super-slam, juicy, carbon-bomb pots. I love pots that are wicked ashy, and I love pots that just have a sheen. I literally like it all, and I get it all every firing,” he says.
Finding Footing
“I love firing kilns,” Eberle says, laughing. “I’ve never met a kiln I never want to fire. I almost like firing more than making, and I love teaching firing because it’s not taught a ton.” As an undergraduate student, Eberle cut his teeth firing behemoth force-draft kilns and a Phoenix wood kiln under the direction of Regis Brodie at Skidmore College in Saratoga Springs, New York. He quickly developed a feeling that his passion for firing was unique and that he wanted to have a better grip on firing techniques to better understand the possibilities. “Each fire is different,” he explains. “You just came to expect the unexpected; every time you thought you really had it down, you didn’t.”
At 23, Eberle took on an apprenticeship under Toshiko Takaezu, where he learned the vastness in variation of approaches to firing, something he has carried with him in his artistic practice ever since. Having learned how differently each artist approaches firings after Takaezu’s apprenticeship and a seminal firing experience with Chris Gustin, he decided he wanted to have a kiln that brings people together in community through the shared firing experience. “That’s kind of what I have now and I love it,” he says.
“Good kilns make great pots, but great kilns make community,” Eberle says. Having learned from so many potters throughout his career, Eberle sees passing the torch as vital to the longevity of atmospheric firing. “I have the wackiest, craziest setup,” Eberle says of his home studio—a small room in his currently under-renovation 1790s historic home in Conway, Massachusetts, outfitted with a pug mill, two electric kilns, a wedging table, a small worktable, two wheels, and shelves. He says his setup is great for what he is doing, but the real game-changer is keeping his clay mixer outside to free up space and reduce worry about reclaim. As a long-term goal in the renovation process for Eberle’s home studio, he plans to build a bigger pavilion with another kiln based on a previous wood-soda anagama kiln, that came together in such a way that he refers to it as his “Karma Kiln,” and potentially another experimental atmospheric kiln. He has the eventual goal of starting an apprenticeship program for students interested in firing, modeled after his own experience apprenticing for Takaezu, as well as a shorter-term internship program that he hopes might turn into a feeder for the apprenticeship.
Just 15 minutes away from his home studio, through a rather serendipitous coincidence, the Karma Kiln was born. Eberle decided to put this spirit of community into action and nearby, his friend Molly Cantor’s kiln pavilion sat vacant. The two set to work, and the rest is history.
Twice a year, he leads a workshop in wood-soda firing for students to experience, learn, and practice together, in which he covers everything from important temperatures in the firing process, to kiln protection, to how dampers work, to the physics of chimneys. The more he teaches workshops, he says, the more he realizes how niche an area it is and how there aren’t many opportunities to learn the intricacies of firing. “It feels cool to be sort of an oracle about that and to really help people out,” he says.
It Takes a Village
Eberle doesn’t take it for granted that he gets to make pottery every day. There’s an underlying pressure in the arts to suffer for the sake of one’s artistry, but Eberle disagrees. “Give up if you’re going to starve, seriously,” he says. “It’s really hard. Give up if you can’t see how you make your car payment or make your rent or have healthcare. It’s nuts.” Although he occasionally accepts teaching opportunities, his practice is his full-time focus.
Eberle’s education throughout his decades of professional practice was only possible because of the knowledge and insight of those who came before him. “Never stop being curious,” he stresses. Regardless of how long a person has been doing it, how much they’ve made, how many kilns they’ve fired, or how much they’ve taught, Eberle is adamant that there is always more for any potter to learn. Atmospheric firing has long relied on this spirit of community and shared pursuit of knowledge to hone the craft and advance the field. Information passed down through generations and learning by doing are the very structural tenets of atmospheric firing, and complicated, precise methods mean that the free-sharing of knowledge is essential to any potter’s success.
“Whatever you’ve got in abundance—if it’s time, if it’s knowledge, if it’s cone-6 stoneware or glaze recipes, or a kiln, or space, patience, a story, give it. It will come back.”
the author Julia Weber is a freelance arts journalist and ceramic artist currently based in Athens, Ohio. She holds a bachelor of science in journalism through Ohio University’s Honors Tutorial College where she conducted research on the role of the artist-journalist in contemporary visual art and cultural criticism. She is currently completing her master of arts administration through Ohio University’s Chaddock + Morrow College of Fine Arts.
December 2025: Table of Contents
Must-Reads from Ceramics Monthly
Unfamiliar with any terms in this article? Browse our glossary of pottery terms!
Click the cover image to return to the Table of Contents