After wondering what her work would look like fired in a wood kiln, Elaine Henry decided to pursue a project where she sent bowls to wood-firing artists in nearly every US state to explore the possibilities.
I am not a woodfirer, but I much admire the practice. It was 2015, and I had been wondering what my porcelain work would look like if fired in a wood kiln, when I found out that sculptor Ashwini Bhat was scheduled to fire with Chris Gustin in his wood kiln in Massachusetts. I asked Bhat if I could send her a bowl for the firing, to which she and Gustin agreed, but with the condition that I send two bowls: one to be sent back to me and one for the silent auction to fundraise for Watershed Center for the Ceramic Arts in Maine. I agreed to that and, after the firing, Bhat sent me images of the two bowls, which were surprisingly different, even having been fired in the same kiln, but in separate chambers. This made me realize that, even though the bowls shared DNA—same clay and same glaze (Continental Clay’s Grolleg Porcelain and Fred Olsen’s Shino for Woodfire glaze)—their experiences made them unique.
Although I am not a functional potter, I do love to make bowls. My usual work involves the throwing of a bowl, which I then alter and add to. The bowl form evolved from my practice of altering the bases of my sculptural vessels. Once thrown, I facet the bowl with a Mudtools tapered rasp, then I trim the foot, and cut the turned foot into four feet. I have been using Continental Clay’s Grolleg Porcelain for several years, so that was the natural go-to clay for this project.
In 2000, I spent a month at the International Ceramic Research Center in Guldagergaard, Denmark, where I met Fred Olsen. We were firing his igloo kiln there and using Royal Copenhagen porcelain. When I used Olsen’s glaze to woodfire, my work glowed. Olsen shared the recipe, so that became the natural glaze to use. The only difference in the glaze I used and his is that he uses a clay that he digs near his home in California. I used Red Art.
Beginning the Project
I shipped a few more bowls in 2015 and early 2016, with one going to Dan Anderson in Illinois, and one to Linda Christianson in Minnesota. The project stalled after I took a life-threatening tumble down a flight of stairs on March 16, 2016. With multiple internal injuries, my recovery took months, so it wasn’t until the autumn of 2016 that I began to make the bowls again. By then, I had decided to pursue firing bowls from the series in all 50 states, and contacted an experienced woodfirer in each state, most of whom I know. For those I didn’t know, others referred me, and that took some time.
I then made bowls from 2016 through early 2019, all in the same form, from the same clay, and using the same glaze. Because they are wheel thrown, they vary slightly in form, but they are obviously related—same DNA. According to the American Heritage Dictionary, DNA is a “sequence of nucleotides” that determine “individual hereditary characteristics.”1 People who have the same DNA have similarities in physical appearance and personality, and there are also differences. The more experiences you have, the less you may be like those with whom you share DNA. This is also true of these 50 bowls.
Having bisque fired and glazed the bowls, I sprayed each one with a laundry spray starch to strengthen the glaze surface. Then I double-boxed each bowl and sent it off for a little foster care in a new and unique atmosphere. Just a few broke during shipping, resulting in their early demise, so I sent a new bowl in each of those cases. A standard form accompanied each bowl, asking for the kiln type, wood type(s), length of firing, any additional pertinent information, such as placement in the kiln and the names of the firing participants. The 49th bowl arrived at my studio in Wyoming in December 2019. After four plus years of making bowls and sending them to woodfirers throughout the US, I have yet to find a woodfirer in the state of Delaware, so there is a bisque-fired and glazed bowl that goes along with the exhibition. It acts as a place keeper, and is labeled as Up for Adoption.
The Results
When a bowl had been fired and the information form completed, I sent the kiln master a prepaid label to pay for the bowl’s return trip to Wyoming. Once the bowls began arriving in the mail, each homecoming was like Christmas and a time to become reacquainted. According to the German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, “We are always speaking, even when we do not utter a single word aloud . . . ”2 In this way, each bowl has a story to tell. Some bowls experienced the kiln’s turbulence more than others, distorting the once-round lip. This distortion and the deposit of wood ash on the opposite edge tell something of the bowl’s experience, and its position in relation to the fire pit. The bowl silently speaks of its own unique experiences, and the stories are there for the viewer to discover. In one case, a student’s enthusiastic stoking caused the bowl to fall into the fire pit, giving it unique scarring that seems to attract viewers.
Once the bowls left my hands, I didn’t ask for a specific location in the kiln, or make any other requests of the kiln masters. Some sent photos of the bowl in its position in the kiln. Others merely described the location. Giving up control was an important part of the project.
I said earlier that I am not a functional potter, but I am an admirer and daily user of functional pots. In the case of this group of bowls, the function is negated by their grouping. Although abstract as a grouping of bowls, the vessels in this body of work will remain together, negating their function of receiving contents, but speaking out silently in individual as well as unified voices. Although unique in their maturation, each of these bowls holds the same DNA, and is changed only by its unique experiences.
1 American Heritage Dictionary of The English Language, Third Edition, (New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992), 545.
2 Vincent B. Leitch, Cain, Finke, Johnson, McGowan, Sharpley-Whiting, and Williams, The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism, Second Edition, (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2010), 985.
the author Elaine Olafson Henry is a ceramic artist, curator, writer, and local volunteer. She earned a BFA at the University of Wyoming in 1992, an MFA from Southern Illinois University at Carbondale in 1995, and an MA in English from the University of Wyoming in 2020. Henry taught at Emporia State University in Kansas from 1996 through 2007, where she served as the Chair of the Department of Art from 2000 through 2007. She served as the President of the International Ceramics Magazine Editors Association (ICMEA) 2014–2016 and the National Council on Education for the Ceramic Arts (NCECA) 2002–2004. She is currently an Honorary Member and a Fellow of NCECA, a Lifetime Member of ICMEA, and now serves on the Council of the International Academy of Ceramics. Henry is the former editor and publisher of the international ceramics journals Ceramics: Art & Perception and Ceramics TECHNICAL.
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.
You have read of of your complimentary articles for the month.
For unlimited access to Ceramics Monthly premium content, subscribe right now for as low as $4.85/month.
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
After wondering what her work would look like fired in a wood kiln, Elaine Henry decided to pursue a project where she sent bowls to wood-firing artists in nearly every US state to explore the possibilities.
I am not a woodfirer, but I much admire the practice. It was 2015, and I had been wondering what my porcelain work would look like if fired in a wood kiln, when I found out that sculptor Ashwini Bhat was scheduled to fire with Chris Gustin in his wood kiln in Massachusetts. I asked Bhat if I could send her a bowl for the firing, to which she and Gustin agreed, but with the condition that I send two bowls: one to be sent back to me and one for the silent auction to fundraise for Watershed Center for the Ceramic Arts in Maine. I agreed to that and, after the firing, Bhat sent me images of the two bowls, which were surprisingly different, even having been fired in the same kiln, but in separate chambers. This made me realize that, even though the bowls shared DNA—same clay and same glaze (Continental Clay’s Grolleg Porcelain and Fred Olsen’s Shino for Woodfire glaze)—their experiences made them unique.
Although I am not a functional potter, I do love to make bowls. My usual work involves the throwing of a bowl, which I then alter and add to. The bowl form evolved from my practice of altering the bases of my sculptural vessels. Once thrown, I facet the bowl with a Mudtools tapered rasp, then I trim the foot, and cut the turned foot into four feet. I have been using Continental Clay’s Grolleg Porcelain for several years, so that was the natural go-to clay for this project.
In 2000, I spent a month at the International Ceramic Research Center in Guldagergaard, Denmark, where I met Fred Olsen. We were firing his igloo kiln there and using Royal Copenhagen porcelain. When I used Olsen’s glaze to woodfire, my work glowed. Olsen shared the recipe, so that became the natural glaze to use. The only difference in the glaze I used and his is that he uses a clay that he digs near his home in California. I used Red Art.
Beginning the Project
I shipped a few more bowls in 2015 and early 2016, with one going to Dan Anderson in Illinois, and one to Linda Christianson in Minnesota. The project stalled after I took a life-threatening tumble down a flight of stairs on March 16, 2016. With multiple internal injuries, my recovery took months, so it wasn’t until the autumn of 2016 that I began to make the bowls again. By then, I had decided to pursue firing bowls from the series in all 50 states, and contacted an experienced woodfirer in each state, most of whom I know. For those I didn’t know, others referred me, and that took some time.
I then made bowls from 2016 through early 2019, all in the same form, from the same clay, and using the same glaze. Because they are wheel thrown, they vary slightly in form, but they are obviously related—same DNA. According to the American Heritage Dictionary, DNA is a “sequence of nucleotides” that determine “individual hereditary characteristics.”1 People who have the same DNA have similarities in physical appearance and personality, and there are also differences. The more experiences you have, the less you may be like those with whom you share DNA. This is also true of these 50 bowls.
Having bisque fired and glazed the bowls, I sprayed each one with a laundry spray starch to strengthen the glaze surface. Then I double-boxed each bowl and sent it off for a little foster care in a new and unique atmosphere. Just a few broke during shipping, resulting in their early demise, so I sent a new bowl in each of those cases. A standard form accompanied each bowl, asking for the kiln type, wood type(s), length of firing, any additional pertinent information, such as placement in the kiln and the names of the firing participants. The 49th bowl arrived at my studio in Wyoming in December 2019. After four plus years of making bowls and sending them to woodfirers throughout the US, I have yet to find a woodfirer in the state of Delaware, so there is a bisque-fired and glazed bowl that goes along with the exhibition. It acts as a place keeper, and is labeled as Up for Adoption.
The Results
When a bowl had been fired and the information form completed, I sent the kiln master a prepaid label to pay for the bowl’s return trip to Wyoming. Once the bowls began arriving in the mail, each homecoming was like Christmas and a time to become reacquainted. According to the German philosopher, Martin Heidegger, “We are always speaking, even when we do not utter a single word aloud . . . ”2 In this way, each bowl has a story to tell. Some bowls experienced the kiln’s turbulence more than others, distorting the once-round lip. This distortion and the deposit of wood ash on the opposite edge tell something of the bowl’s experience, and its position in relation to the fire pit. The bowl silently speaks of its own unique experiences, and the stories are there for the viewer to discover. In one case, a student’s enthusiastic stoking caused the bowl to fall into the fire pit, giving it unique scarring that seems to attract viewers.
Once the bowls left my hands, I didn’t ask for a specific location in the kiln, or make any other requests of the kiln masters. Some sent photos of the bowl in its position in the kiln. Others merely described the location. Giving up control was an important part of the project.
I said earlier that I am not a functional potter, but I am an admirer and daily user of functional pots. In the case of this group of bowls, the function is negated by their grouping. Although abstract as a grouping of bowls, the vessels in this body of work will remain together, negating their function of receiving contents, but speaking out silently in individual as well as unified voices. Although unique in their maturation, each of these bowls holds the same DNA, and is changed only by its unique experiences.
1 American Heritage Dictionary of The English Language, Third Edition, (New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992), 545.
2 Vincent B. Leitch, Cain, Finke, Johnson, McGowan, Sharpley-Whiting, and Williams, The Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism, Second Edition, (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2010), 985.
the author Elaine Olafson Henry is a ceramic artist, curator, writer, and local volunteer. She earned a BFA at the University of Wyoming in 1992, an MFA from Southern Illinois University at Carbondale in 1995, and an MA in English from the University of Wyoming in 2020. Henry taught at Emporia State University in Kansas from 1996 through 2007, where she served as the Chair of the Department of Art from 2000 through 2007. She served as the President of the International Ceramics Magazine Editors Association (ICMEA) 2014–2016 and the National Council on Education for the Ceramic Arts (NCECA) 2002–2004. She is currently an Honorary Member and a Fellow of NCECA, a Lifetime Member of ICMEA, and now serves on the Council of the International Academy of Ceramics. Henry is the former editor and publisher of the international ceramics journals Ceramics: Art & Perception and Ceramics TECHNICAL.
Unfamiliar with any terms in this article? Browse our glossary of pottery terms!
Click the cover image to return to the Table of Contents