The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Throwing on the wheel was eroding Justin D’Onofrio’s hard-earned rock-climbing calluses. Essential to protecting a climber’s hands, calluses aid in gripping and help prevent blisters, but the water from throwing was softening his hands. Needing to find a method of making pots that would require less water, D’Onofrio turned to slab building with soft clay. This way of making led to his current body of work comprised of layers of gradient colored slabs made from various combinations of stoneware or wild clays, porcelain, and stains.
The visible seams in D’Onofrio’s vessels give the appearance of crevices or protrusions that one might grab on a rock face. His chosen color palette references the landscapes he is inspired by while climbing—a sunrise or sunset, a rock wall, or a study of lichen. His consideration of each transition between layers can be likened to the thoughtful planning that goes into scaling a rock wall, often requiring him to think three steps ahead. Many such parallels can be found between D’Onofrio’s clay work and his life as a climber.
After taking breaks from climbing over the years, D’Onofrio has come to realize how intricately connected it is to his work and his well-being, and that he needs to maintain a regular climbing practice. Today, he and his wife, Brooke D’Onofrio (Cashion), also a ceramic artist, and their one-year-old daughter live in Fort Collins, Colorado, at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. The couple shares a basement studio, and D’Onofrio can go climbing just five minutes away.
A Love of the Outdoors
During his teenage years in Santa Cruz, California, D’Onofrio enjoyed a variety of sports—skating, surfing, and beach volleyball—that allowed him to connect to the natural elements. When he was 18 years old, a friend introduced him to climbing. D’Onofrio recalls how frightened he was, not knowing how to control his body. But he enjoyed the physical challenge. He joined a local climbing gym, where he could build his confidence and skills. For years, D’Onofrio worked seasonal restaurant jobs, saving money and traveling during the offseason to climb.
Though he often climbs with friends, D’Onofrio’s preference is to climb alone. “I enjoy when it’s just me and the rock,” he says, “And it’s really a meditation.” He practices a style of climbing called bouldering—climbing that is done closer to the ground without the use of ropes or harnesses, utilizing crash mats for protection from possible falls. A similar approach can be seen in D’Onofrio’s making process where he utilizes very few tools and relies more on his hands, so he can feel directly how the clay is responding to his touch.
A Break from Climbing Leads to an Obsession with Clay
After the sudden death of a friend, D’Onofrio took a break from climbing and traveling to spend more time with family and friends. He had been taking classes at Cabrillo Community College in Aptos, California, studying science and photography, when a climbing friend encouraged D’Onofrio to take a ceramics handbuilding class taught there by his mother, Kathryn McBride. This ended up being a life-changing decision that led not only to D’Onofrio’s obsession with clay, but also to meeting his future wife, Brooke, who was the kiln tech there.
Having been a climber for almost ten years when he began working with clay, D’Onofrio had honed a sensitivity with his hands and awareness of subtle movements that allowed him to adapt quickly to the material. He was drawn to the physicality of it and to the immediate sense of community he felt in the ceramics studio.
Growth Through Mentorship
In the climbing world, you have a good chance of meeting your idols, D’Onofrio points out. “Not only will you probably meet them someday, but you’ll also probably have dinner with them or climb at the same crag, or sit around a campfire.” He found this same sense of community in the clay world, recalling visits to instructors’ studios and dinners at the homes of the mentors who took him under their wings.
Sam Clarkson, D’Onofrio’s wheel-throwing teacher at Cabrillo, was one such mentor who impacted his ceramic journey early on. Clarkson introduced D’Onofrio to Alleghany Meadows, founder of the Artstream Nomadic Gallery, Studio for Arts and Works (S.A.W.), and co-founder of the Harvey/Meadows Gallery in Aspen, Colorado—all places where D’Onofrio would later work. D’Onofrio says that seeing the artists’ work at the Artstream Gallery solidified the idea that he, too, could have a career in clay.
D’Onofrio and Meadows maintain a close friendship, and D’Onofrio credits Meadows with where he is today, having provided him with studio space at S.A.W., employment opportunities, and encouragement throughout his clay career. Today, both Justin and Brooke help run the Artstream Gallery as co-manager and director/curator, respectively, along with Meadows.
A Return to Climbing Inspires a New Body of Work
D’Onofrio’s return to climbing as an undergraduate in ceramics at Colorado State University happened to coincide with a class color assignment. “I was seeing all these amazing lichens, these beautiful oranges and greens, noticing how the color is not just on the surface, but all the way through the rock formation.” This led him to begin working with colored clay bodies that change with the seasons—in the winter, he works with cooler and darker palettes; in the fall, he focuses on warmer tones.
Included in D’Onofrio’s hiking gear is a small plastic baggie and a Sharpie. If he finds clay, he’ll take some home to incorporate a sense of place in his work. After processing it, D’Onofrio mixes the wild clay in different percentages into porcelain clay, creating a gradient effect. He then adds stains or pigments in gradated percentages. Since the clays are blended, the risk of the wild clay melting at higher temperatures is of little concern. However, after the glaze firing, sometimes wild clay, particularly shale, will cause a piece to bloat, taking on the quality of magma, a look D’Onofrio enjoys. “It’s interesting to see the material naturally transform like that,” he says.
While D’Onofrio’s previous wheel work was tight, he’s come to embrace a looser approach to working with soft slabs. Using bisque and plaster molds as supports, he joins layers of colored slabs—his larger pieces might contain up to twelve different colors—leaving the outer seams visible. D’Onofrio’s unique foot-making style has evolved over time. He always enjoyed trimming on the wheel and wanted to find a way to bring that element into the slab pieces. Rather than simply attaching a coil or slab foot, D’Onofrio attaches a large disk of soft clay to the base of his pots. Turning the piece on a banding wheel, he then trims out a deep foot while the clay is still wet.
When working on larger pieces, D’Onofrio enjoys the physicality required. The clay must be wet enough that he can manipulate it and add volume, but stiff enough that it won’t collapse. Working with thicker slabs allows him to add significant volume to larger forms, to give the pots the most breath he can. This process involves lots of back and forth, being up close with the pot, and then stepping away to take in the whole view. Even subtle interactions with the clay can change the look of the piece. D’Onofrio says this way of working mirrors his own personality. “I can seem very easy going, but there’s actually a lot going on inside that’s making it that way.”
Life in Alfred, New York
When Brooke enrolled in graduate school at Alfred University in 2017, D’Onofrio stayed behind in Fort Collins, trading the comforts of a living space for a studio where he spent his days, and his van where he slept in the evenings. While he enjoyed the solitude of those two years of focused making and selling pots, D’Onofrio began to crave conversation with other potters. And sleeping in his van in the winter was taking its toll. After attending a few residencies, D’Onofrio made the decision to go to graduate school and was accepted at Alfred in 2019. Unfortunately, being in a community in Alfred’s vast ceramics facilities proved short-lived when the pandemic hit during his second semester.
Making work in his apartment for the seven months that the studios were closed, D’Onofrio recalls how important his pottery collection became to him. “There’s a beautiful quality in handmade pots that can sneak up on you,” he says. “There we were with our collection of pots—our friends in pottery form. We ended up feeling this community, friendship, and connection through all these ceramic pieces.” Feeling connected to the pots he was living with led him to start making smaller works on a more intimate scale, like mugs and bowls, in addition to the larger-scale vessels he had been focused on.
D’Onofrio had worked a little with wild clays while a student at Cabrillo, digging and processing clay from Bonny Dune in Santa Cruz. At Alfred, he was excited to make use of the infamous natural clay deposit there. He enjoys both the visual quality wild clay brings to his work and the concept of combining something local with porcelain’s more industrial and global qualities.
Improvement Through Trial and Failure
D’Onofrio is attracted to climbs that feel or look impossible, such as steep or clean faces that require study and contemplation to navigate a route. “Then you come to the rock and meet it with your own body and your own mental and physical strength. You’re breathing and thinking through all these movements, and it’s all about the practice.” What excites him most is trying climbs that he fails 99.9 percent of the time. “Then there’s that one time where everything clicks and you figure it out.”
One of the most important lessons D’Onofrio has learned from climbing that has been instructive in his clay work is not forcing things. “I’m constantly getting taught about patience,” he reflects. Some of the climbing he’s doing is at 12,000 feet, where the weather can change suddenly. “It could be summer, and suddenly it’s snowing. Or it can be hot and your hands are sweating, making it difficult to grip.”
It’s often the conditions beyond one’s control, both in climbing and in the studio, that have become D’Onofrio’s most important teachers. “You can be really attached to the outcome or trying to succeed or force the timeline of it. But, when the conditions are just right and your mind and body are in the right place, then things can come together in this beautiful moment of unity, and you can flow through something. It can feel like you’re almost out of body. When you can let go of those expectations like, ‘I want to do this now or this has to happen,’ that’s sometimes exactly when it will happen for you.”
When someone can successfully complete a climb in the first attempt, it’s known as a flash. “Some people really like to challenge themselves to do that, but I don’t really care about that,” notes D’Onofrio. “To me, it’s just about the experience as a whole and it doesn’t matter how fast I do something.” He’s talking about climbing, but could just as well be talking about his studio practice. “In fact, my most memorable experiences have been the ones that I’ve worked on for long periods of time, even years. That means it was really challenging. And a lot of growth happened. If it takes a long time, you’re learning a lot of lessons.”
the author Susan McHenry is a studio potter, writer, and educator based in Kalamazoo, Michigan. She has an MFA in writing and literature from Bennington College. To learn more, visit susanmchenryceramics.comor follow on Instagram @susanmchenryceramics.
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The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Throwing on the wheel was eroding Justin D’Onofrio’s hard-earned rock-climbing calluses. Essential to protecting a climber’s hands, calluses aid in gripping and help prevent blisters, but the water from throwing was softening his hands. Needing to find a method of making pots that would require less water, D’Onofrio turned to slab building with soft clay. This way of making led to his current body of work comprised of layers of gradient colored slabs made from various combinations of stoneware or wild clays, porcelain, and stains.
The visible seams in D’Onofrio’s vessels give the appearance of crevices or protrusions that one might grab on a rock face. His chosen color palette references the landscapes he is inspired by while climbing—a sunrise or sunset, a rock wall, or a study of lichen. His consideration of each transition between layers can be likened to the thoughtful planning that goes into scaling a rock wall, often requiring him to think three steps ahead. Many such parallels can be found between D’Onofrio’s clay work and his life as a climber.
After taking breaks from climbing over the years, D’Onofrio has come to realize how intricately connected it is to his work and his well-being, and that he needs to maintain a regular climbing practice. Today, he and his wife, Brooke D’Onofrio (Cashion), also a ceramic artist, and their one-year-old daughter live in Fort Collins, Colorado, at the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. The couple shares a basement studio, and D’Onofrio can go climbing just five minutes away.
A Love of the Outdoors
During his teenage years in Santa Cruz, California, D’Onofrio enjoyed a variety of sports—skating, surfing, and beach volleyball—that allowed him to connect to the natural elements. When he was 18 years old, a friend introduced him to climbing. D’Onofrio recalls how frightened he was, not knowing how to control his body. But he enjoyed the physical challenge. He joined a local climbing gym, where he could build his confidence and skills. For years, D’Onofrio worked seasonal restaurant jobs, saving money and traveling during the offseason to climb.
Though he often climbs with friends, D’Onofrio’s preference is to climb alone. “I enjoy when it’s just me and the rock,” he says, “And it’s really a meditation.” He practices a style of climbing called bouldering—climbing that is done closer to the ground without the use of ropes or harnesses, utilizing crash mats for protection from possible falls. A similar approach can be seen in D’Onofrio’s making process where he utilizes very few tools and relies more on his hands, so he can feel directly how the clay is responding to his touch.
A Break from Climbing Leads to an Obsession with Clay
After the sudden death of a friend, D’Onofrio took a break from climbing and traveling to spend more time with family and friends. He had been taking classes at Cabrillo Community College in Aptos, California, studying science and photography, when a climbing friend encouraged D’Onofrio to take a ceramics handbuilding class taught there by his mother, Kathryn McBride. This ended up being a life-changing decision that led not only to D’Onofrio’s obsession with clay, but also to meeting his future wife, Brooke, who was the kiln tech there.
Having been a climber for almost ten years when he began working with clay, D’Onofrio had honed a sensitivity with his hands and awareness of subtle movements that allowed him to adapt quickly to the material. He was drawn to the physicality of it and to the immediate sense of community he felt in the ceramics studio.
Growth Through Mentorship
In the climbing world, you have a good chance of meeting your idols, D’Onofrio points out. “Not only will you probably meet them someday, but you’ll also probably have dinner with them or climb at the same crag, or sit around a campfire.” He found this same sense of community in the clay world, recalling visits to instructors’ studios and dinners at the homes of the mentors who took him under their wings.
Sam Clarkson, D’Onofrio’s wheel-throwing teacher at Cabrillo, was one such mentor who impacted his ceramic journey early on. Clarkson introduced D’Onofrio to Alleghany Meadows, founder of the Artstream Nomadic Gallery, Studio for Arts and Works (S.A.W.), and co-founder of the Harvey/Meadows Gallery in Aspen, Colorado—all places where D’Onofrio would later work. D’Onofrio says that seeing the artists’ work at the Artstream Gallery solidified the idea that he, too, could have a career in clay.
D’Onofrio and Meadows maintain a close friendship, and D’Onofrio credits Meadows with where he is today, having provided him with studio space at S.A.W., employment opportunities, and encouragement throughout his clay career. Today, both Justin and Brooke help run the Artstream Gallery as co-manager and director/curator, respectively, along with Meadows.
A Return to Climbing Inspires a New Body of Work
D’Onofrio’s return to climbing as an undergraduate in ceramics at Colorado State University happened to coincide with a class color assignment. “I was seeing all these amazing lichens, these beautiful oranges and greens, noticing how the color is not just on the surface, but all the way through the rock formation.” This led him to begin working with colored clay bodies that change with the seasons—in the winter, he works with cooler and darker palettes; in the fall, he focuses on warmer tones.
Included in D’Onofrio’s hiking gear is a small plastic baggie and a Sharpie. If he finds clay, he’ll take some home to incorporate a sense of place in his work. After processing it, D’Onofrio mixes the wild clay in different percentages into porcelain clay, creating a gradient effect. He then adds stains or pigments in gradated percentages. Since the clays are blended, the risk of the wild clay melting at higher temperatures is of little concern. However, after the glaze firing, sometimes wild clay, particularly shale, will cause a piece to bloat, taking on the quality of magma, a look D’Onofrio enjoys. “It’s interesting to see the material naturally transform like that,” he says.
While D’Onofrio’s previous wheel work was tight, he’s come to embrace a looser approach to working with soft slabs. Using bisque and plaster molds as supports, he joins layers of colored slabs—his larger pieces might contain up to twelve different colors—leaving the outer seams visible. D’Onofrio’s unique foot-making style has evolved over time. He always enjoyed trimming on the wheel and wanted to find a way to bring that element into the slab pieces. Rather than simply attaching a coil or slab foot, D’Onofrio attaches a large disk of soft clay to the base of his pots. Turning the piece on a banding wheel, he then trims out a deep foot while the clay is still wet.
When working on larger pieces, D’Onofrio enjoys the physicality required. The clay must be wet enough that he can manipulate it and add volume, but stiff enough that it won’t collapse. Working with thicker slabs allows him to add significant volume to larger forms, to give the pots the most breath he can. This process involves lots of back and forth, being up close with the pot, and then stepping away to take in the whole view. Even subtle interactions with the clay can change the look of the piece. D’Onofrio says this way of working mirrors his own personality. “I can seem very easy going, but there’s actually a lot going on inside that’s making it that way.”
Life in Alfred, New York
When Brooke enrolled in graduate school at Alfred University in 2017, D’Onofrio stayed behind in Fort Collins, trading the comforts of a living space for a studio where he spent his days, and his van where he slept in the evenings. While he enjoyed the solitude of those two years of focused making and selling pots, D’Onofrio began to crave conversation with other potters. And sleeping in his van in the winter was taking its toll. After attending a few residencies, D’Onofrio made the decision to go to graduate school and was accepted at Alfred in 2019. Unfortunately, being in a community in Alfred’s vast ceramics facilities proved short-lived when the pandemic hit during his second semester.
Making work in his apartment for the seven months that the studios were closed, D’Onofrio recalls how important his pottery collection became to him. “There’s a beautiful quality in handmade pots that can sneak up on you,” he says. “There we were with our collection of pots—our friends in pottery form. We ended up feeling this community, friendship, and connection through all these ceramic pieces.” Feeling connected to the pots he was living with led him to start making smaller works on a more intimate scale, like mugs and bowls, in addition to the larger-scale vessels he had been focused on.
D’Onofrio had worked a little with wild clays while a student at Cabrillo, digging and processing clay from Bonny Dune in Santa Cruz. At Alfred, he was excited to make use of the infamous natural clay deposit there. He enjoys both the visual quality wild clay brings to his work and the concept of combining something local with porcelain’s more industrial and global qualities.
Improvement Through Trial and Failure
D’Onofrio is attracted to climbs that feel or look impossible, such as steep or clean faces that require study and contemplation to navigate a route. “Then you come to the rock and meet it with your own body and your own mental and physical strength. You’re breathing and thinking through all these movements, and it’s all about the practice.” What excites him most is trying climbs that he fails 99.9 percent of the time. “Then there’s that one time where everything clicks and you figure it out.”
One of the most important lessons D’Onofrio has learned from climbing that has been instructive in his clay work is not forcing things. “I’m constantly getting taught about patience,” he reflects. Some of the climbing he’s doing is at 12,000 feet, where the weather can change suddenly. “It could be summer, and suddenly it’s snowing. Or it can be hot and your hands are sweating, making it difficult to grip.”
It’s often the conditions beyond one’s control, both in climbing and in the studio, that have become D’Onofrio’s most important teachers. “You can be really attached to the outcome or trying to succeed or force the timeline of it. But, when the conditions are just right and your mind and body are in the right place, then things can come together in this beautiful moment of unity, and you can flow through something. It can feel like you’re almost out of body. When you can let go of those expectations like, ‘I want to do this now or this has to happen,’ that’s sometimes exactly when it will happen for you.”
When someone can successfully complete a climb in the first attempt, it’s known as a flash. “Some people really like to challenge themselves to do that, but I don’t really care about that,” notes D’Onofrio. “To me, it’s just about the experience as a whole and it doesn’t matter how fast I do something.” He’s talking about climbing, but could just as well be talking about his studio practice. “In fact, my most memorable experiences have been the ones that I’ve worked on for long periods of time, even years. That means it was really challenging. And a lot of growth happened. If it takes a long time, you’re learning a lot of lessons.”
To learn more about Justin D’Onofrio and his work, visit justindonofrio.com or follow on Instagram @just.donofrio.
the author Susan McHenry is a studio potter, writer, and educator based in Kalamazoo, Michigan. She has an MFA in writing and literature from Bennington College. To learn more, visit susanmchenryceramics.com or follow on Instagram @susanmchenryceramics.
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