Ever consider an apprenticeship? Brian Chen shares his experience as an apprentice at Mill Creek Pottery with Simon Levin.
Simon Levin once told me I was rudderless, and since my academic ceramics education was nearly nonexistent, he wasn’t wrong. I had contacted him wanting to learn anything. This was apparently too broad of a reason to be accepted into the apprenticeship program at Simon’s Mill Creek Pottery. I still remember the look on people’s faces when I said I didn’t know who Warren MacKenzie was. After taking some time to explore, both at Penland School of Crafts and on my own, I came back to Simon with specific questions to investigate, and a desire to focus on form and atmospheric firing. My apprenticeship at Mill Creek Pottery officially started in February of 2019.
The beginning of the apprenticeship was hard. I struggled with the line of where Simon’s role as boss ended and his role as friend began. This didn’t have anything to do with his actions or decisions, but rather how I grew up. I would say that this blurred line is where the word mentor comes into play. We both became aware that my ceramics vocabulary was fairly limited. I slowly started to look more intentionally at what I was making and dissected the parts of vessels into elements that related to each other. The word poetic came up during this process, and I’m not sure if I liked using it when talking about pots (I decided I prefer “intentionality”). I remember Simon asking me to critique my cup using one word. I’ll be honest here and admit that I came up with the word stoic only because I thought it fell in line with the poetic theme. The next four months were pretty much the same, filled with mental anguish about the boss/friend/critic line, poetic words, and never losing a board or card game to Simon.
At the time of my first firing as an apprentice, I doubted almost every pot I made. I wasn’t proud of most if not all of them. I felt as though I didn’t know how to make pots. In retrospect, the fact that prior to the apprenticeship, I thought I could make them is absurd. I often ask other people, “What’s the first step to being good at something?” They often answer, “Being bad.” I’ll have you know, I did not give myself the same pep talk for that first firing. My pots weren’t great, but no one was expecting great. The most important criteria is that they were better than the pots I had made before. That’s all that was needed.
I didn’t start making work I was proud of until after I met Steve Rolf and Liz Lurie during my apprenticeship. I was confused about their two contrasting thought processes behind making. Steve was calculated and considered prerequisite steps to set himself up for future steps, while Liz loved existing in the messy and, at times, awkward steps of additive/subtractive methods. My work started to take off when I used her making technique and his forms as a template.
Simon’s role as a mentor was to throw me off whenever I felt content with my work. He asked questions to draw my attention to things I wasn’t considering. The rim and foot, as well as surface treatment options, hardly crossed my mind as elements I should focus on. With every new breakthrough, there were more questions to throw me into a spiral of angst. What if the vessels looked like they were floating? How is the rim related to the contrast I want to strike? How does the ash from wood firing affect how I wad my work and load it into the kiln? How can I increase the contrast between the vessel and zarf (the added slab elements that act as a holder/container)? These questions circulated from one form to another, and I started to realize that my forms related to each other.
Simon was and still is, to an extent, invested in the development of my work and career and expects me to put in the time and effort to progress. I hope that I delivered within the time frame of the apprenticeship. I can see how far my work has come. Let me reiterate, this was not easy, and even now I still struggle with the boss/friend line, but now I am more comfortable with its ambiguous nature. I feel very well prepared for my future adventures in clay and am excited, and a little nervous, to struggle and resolve another aspect of my work again.
Research and Planning
The website www.apprenticelines.org is a great place to begin your research into apprenticeships. It lists apprenticeship programs throughout the US, as well as some important considerations to help you decide whether or not an apprenticeship is the right path to take. A few things to consider: What are you looking to gain from the apprenticeship? Will there be time to make your own work? Do you want critiques? What is your financial situation? Are you willing to travel?
There are several things I wish I knew before going into an apprenticeship. I don’t speak for all situations, but I’m under the impression that most apprenticeships are an invitation to run the business. It doesn’t fit the template of a job, and it very much isn’t school. Make sure you are able to prioritize both your own needs and your mentor’s during the apprenticeship and make sure to communicate clearly about both sets of needs. This type of learning environment consists of a working relationship with trust and investment from both parties while valuing the creative lifestyle and the direction the pottery takes.
Preparing for an apprenticeship is important. Talk to previous apprentices who worked with the same mentor and ask about their experiences. Did they learn or achieve what they had intended going into the apprenticeship? Are they still making ceramics/pots? What were the best and worst parts of the experience? What was the thing that surprised them the most? What kind of person would they recommend this particular apprenticeship to? Make sure to meet your potential mentor, confirm that you get along well, and get to know the area/region where you will be working.
It is also important to prepare financially. I had some money saved up, and for my first year I worked part time as an assistant/private tennis coach. Simon worked around my coaching schedule every week so that there wouldn’t be any miscommunication. During my second year, I couldn’t coach due to the COVID-19 lockdown and social distancing, and was helped out by my family.
the author Brian Chen was an apprentice with Simon Levin from the beginning of 2019 through 2020. This was his step off the cliff into the ceramics world and a significant portion of his ceramics education. He went in curious and naive and finished with more questions than he will have time to answer in his lifetime. To learn more, visit www.brianchenpottery.com.
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Ever consider an apprenticeship? Brian Chen shares his experience as an apprentice at Mill Creek Pottery with Simon Levin.
Simon Levin once told me I was rudderless, and since my academic ceramics education was nearly nonexistent, he wasn’t wrong. I had contacted him wanting to learn anything. This was apparently too broad of a reason to be accepted into the apprenticeship program at Simon’s Mill Creek Pottery. I still remember the look on people’s faces when I said I didn’t know who Warren MacKenzie was. After taking some time to explore, both at Penland School of Crafts and on my own, I came back to Simon with specific questions to investigate, and a desire to focus on form and atmospheric firing. My apprenticeship at Mill Creek Pottery officially started in February of 2019.
The beginning of the apprenticeship was hard. I struggled with the line of where Simon’s role as boss ended and his role as friend began. This didn’t have anything to do with his actions or decisions, but rather how I grew up. I would say that this blurred line is where the word mentor comes into play. We both became aware that my ceramics vocabulary was fairly limited. I slowly started to look more intentionally at what I was making and dissected the parts of vessels into elements that related to each other. The word poetic came up during this process, and I’m not sure if I liked using it when talking about pots (I decided I prefer “intentionality”). I remember Simon asking me to critique my cup using one word. I’ll be honest here and admit that I came up with the word stoic only because I thought it fell in line with the poetic theme. The next four months were pretty much the same, filled with mental anguish about the boss/friend/critic line, poetic words, and never losing a board or card game to Simon.
At the time of my first firing as an apprentice, I doubted almost every pot I made. I wasn’t proud of most if not all of them. I felt as though I didn’t know how to make pots. In retrospect, the fact that prior to the apprenticeship, I thought I could make them is absurd. I often ask other people, “What’s the first step to being good at something?” They often answer, “Being bad.” I’ll have you know, I did not give myself the same pep talk for that first firing. My pots weren’t great, but no one was expecting great. The most important criteria is that they were better than the pots I had made before. That’s all that was needed.
I didn’t start making work I was proud of until after I met Steve Rolf and Liz Lurie during my apprenticeship. I was confused about their two contrasting thought processes behind making. Steve was calculated and considered prerequisite steps to set himself up for future steps, while Liz loved existing in the messy and, at times, awkward steps of additive/subtractive methods. My work started to take off when I used her making technique and his forms as a template.
Simon’s role as a mentor was to throw me off whenever I felt content with my work. He asked questions to draw my attention to things I wasn’t considering. The rim and foot, as well as surface treatment options, hardly crossed my mind as elements I should focus on. With every new breakthrough, there were more questions to throw me into a spiral of angst. What if the vessels looked like they were floating? How is the rim related to the contrast I want to strike? How does the ash from wood firing affect how I wad my work and load it into the kiln? How can I increase the contrast between the vessel and zarf (the added slab elements that act as a holder/container)? These questions circulated from one form to another, and I started to realize that my forms related to each other.
Simon was and still is, to an extent, invested in the development of my work and career and expects me to put in the time and effort to progress. I hope that I delivered within the time frame of the apprenticeship. I can see how far my work has come. Let me reiterate, this was not easy, and even now I still struggle with the boss/friend line, but now I am more comfortable with its ambiguous nature. I feel very well prepared for my future adventures in clay and am excited, and a little nervous, to struggle and resolve another aspect of my work again.
Research and Planning
The website www.apprenticelines.org is a great place to begin your research into apprenticeships. It lists apprenticeship programs throughout the US, as well as some important considerations to help you decide whether or not an apprenticeship is the right path to take. A few things to consider: What are you looking to gain from the apprenticeship? Will there be time to make your own work? Do you want critiques? What is your financial situation? Are you willing to travel?
There are several things I wish I knew before going into an apprenticeship. I don’t speak for all situations, but I’m under the impression that most apprenticeships are an invitation to run the business. It doesn’t fit the template of a job, and it very much isn’t school. Make sure you are able to prioritize both your own needs and your mentor’s during the apprenticeship and make sure to communicate clearly about both sets of needs. This type of learning environment consists of a working relationship with trust and investment from both parties while valuing the creative lifestyle and the direction the pottery takes.
Preparing for an apprenticeship is important. Talk to previous apprentices who worked with the same mentor and ask about their experiences. Did they learn or achieve what they had intended going into the apprenticeship? Are they still making ceramics/pots? What were the best and worst parts of the experience? What was the thing that surprised them the most? What kind of person would they recommend this particular apprenticeship to? Make sure to meet your potential mentor, confirm that you get along well, and get to know the area/region where you will be working.
It is also important to prepare financially. I had some money saved up, and for my first year I worked part time as an assistant/private tennis coach. Simon worked around my coaching schedule every week so that there wouldn’t be any miscommunication. During my second year, I couldn’t coach due to the COVID-19 lockdown and social distancing, and was helped out by my family.
the author Brian Chen was an apprentice with Simon Levin from the beginning of 2019 through 2020. This was his step off the cliff into the ceramics world and a significant portion of his ceramics education. He went in curious and naive and finished with more questions than he will have time to answer in his lifetime. To learn more, visit www.brianchenpottery.com.
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