The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Pursuing Pottery
My friend Aaron Weissblum invited me to start a pottery in Gloucester, Massachusetts, in his mother’s basement. Pretty fresh out of college I didn’t have a lot going on and didn’t know much about pottery, but I sure loved Gloucester
and it was a good excuse to be closer to my girlfriend who was living in Boston at the time. We’re married now and I have been making pottery ever since. Weissblum introduced me to Mark Shapiro, and we traveled out to Western Massachusetts to
help him build his wood kiln at his studio, Stonepool Pottery. I didn’t have a wheel so we built a treadle wheel, too. Before long, I had all the tools I would need. Now I just needed to learn how to make pots.
We loaded our treadle wheels into the back of our pickup truck and took them down to Penland School of Craft in North Carolina to take a class from Michael Simon in 1989. I had my wheel next to the door, as far away from the main action as possible. I
was relieved when the wheel next to mine was empty—more anonymity for me. That didn’t last long. The next day working next to me was a young potter from Tennessee, Michael Kline. A year later Kline would join us at Stonepool, and we have
been friends ever since.
When I first started making pottery, I reveled in the opportunity to make pots, sit at my wheel, and fill up wareboard after wareboard. I was firing the kiln at Stonepool Pottery and it was amazing. Each firing was a wonder, a discovery, a gift. Everything
was so new. I worked hard. My older, more experienced colleagues pushed me. They were so good at making pottery. It was intimidating and it was magical. Beautiful pots came out of the kiln. I was happy to be there. Today, I am slower and more reflective.
I spend more time in my sketchbook. The challenges are largely the same. How do I choose to love each piece of pottery that I make? How do I strike a balance between what I know (what I am good at) and forgetting everything I know in an effort
to tap back into that wonderful, frenzied energy of newness? My mantra in the studio today is, “It’s all practice and everything I make is a prototype.”
Creating Work in the Shire
I have been firing my own wood kiln in Westhampton, Massachusetts, for the past 25 years. My family and I are blessed to have a beautiful spot on the North Branch of the Manhan River. My sons call where we live “the shire,” away from the hustle
and bustle of the outside world. We have a campfire, a basketball hoop, an outside couch, two porches, an old farmhouse, and my studio, Dog Bar Pottery, built into the barn.
I make about half my pots on that same treadle wheel I built 35 years ago, the rest of my pots I handbuild. I use a variety of clay bodies from Starworks Clays. At some point, I started mixing sand from the river into my handbuilding clay. The sand shortens
the clay, making it super easy to carve and leaving it more open and exposed. I learn best by doing, not so much by cracking open a textbook. Adding sand to my clay has opened a lot of doors and has pushed me to see my clay and materials in a new
light. Now, I have dozens of sands that I have collected and folks have brought me from as far as Tasmania to the headwaters of the Amazon River, from the mountain streams in Vermont to rocky beaches in Alaska. They are all so different and full of
stories and discoveries.
My studio is one of my favorite places to go in the whole world. It is 25×25 feet (7.6×7.6 m), full of pottery supplies, random art supplies, photographs of family and friends, and old tools passed down from my grandfather. I have my wheel,
some workstations, and a central table. Everything that can be is on wheels. I love my big old Peter Pugger pugmill that makes reclaiming a breeze. I single fire all my pots and have a stripped-down selection of slips and glazes. An oversized sliding
door opens to my kiln shed and makes for easy access to my kiln, a single-chamber catenary-arch kiln fired with wood, salt, and soda ash.
Though I spend a lot of time on my own in my studio, it is a busy place. I love making stuff with my friends. This year my son and his friends have been in the studio with DJ equipment and a giant projection screen. They have been hosting studio sessions
combining music with visuals and art-making all winter. It is an unusual mix of media. They call themselves Dino Fam Productions. Having them in the studio has been an educational experience for me, and it’s a delight to witness their conversations
about making, collaboration, and their own hopes and dreams.
Selling Pottery
Pottery customers are the best. They are the final collaborators in the pottery-making cycle. They take on my pots and make a life with them. Their dedication inspires me and makes room on my shelves to make more pottery. I have been to craft fairs put
on by organizations from the Parent Teacher Organization to the American Craft Council. I have sold pots out of my hotel room in a pop-up sale and had beautiful home sales hosted by generous pottery patrons. I have had wonderful relationships with
gallery owners and some that have not been as wonderful. These days I do mainly pottery-related events. The St. Croix Valley Pottery Tour really changed how I sell my pottery. They were pioneers of the “build it and they will come” model.
As potters, we have a great community, plus we are really good at hanging out. I started going to Minnesota almost 20 years ago to participate in the St. Croix Valley Pottery Tour. Since then, I have been able to be on the ground floor of the Hilltown
6 Pottery Tour in Western Massachusetts. I have also participated in the Asparagus Valley Pottery Trail in Massachusetts, 16 Hands Studio Tour in Virginia, and some great pottery invitationals like Pottery on the Hill in DC, the Worcester Pottery
Invitational in Massachusetts, and the Old Church Pottery Show and Sale in Demarest, New Jersey.
Social media is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it is a giant monster sapping the lifeblood out of the fabric of our society. On the other, it is a wonderful platform for us artists and makers to share, connect, and see each other’s work.
I have seen so much beautiful and compelling pottery online. It is fabulous that we get to see work and hear stories outside of established institutions and organizations. Social media, online sales, and the internet have made my pottery world so
much bigger and I think contributed to the moment of explosive interest that pottery is experiencing today.
Career Snapshot
Years as a Professional Potter
36
Number of Pots Made in a Year
1000
Education
First Thrown Pot, Bay Community School, 1972 Art History Degree, Beloit College, 1987 Built and Fired the Wood/Salt Kiln, Stonepool Pottery, with Mark Shapiro, Michael Kline, and Aaron Weissblum, 1988–1998
The Time it Takes (Percentages)
Making: 77% Selling: 19% Bookkeeping: 4%
Favorite Tool
treadle wheel, fettling knife
Process
reductive carving, hewing, and scraping
Where It Goes
Galleries: some years 0–15% Studio/Home Sales: 60–75% Online: 10–20% Other: Invitationals (like Pottery on the Hill and Old Church Show and Sale) and workshops 10–20%
The wood kiln is a wonder, and not just because of the beautiful pots that come out of it. We have an amazing community and firing the wood kiln has always been a reason for us to gather and celebrate. Folks often ask if there is some way to tap into
or use all the heat generated when firing the kiln. The heat is so palpable, the kiln glowing red and breathing fire. Alas, we have not figured out how to heat our house with the kiln, but the energy is infectious. My wife invites friends, family,
and folks from the community to our firings, sharing in the event as well as giving space and time for more making as the kiln is being fired.
Firings get to be about sharing fabulous ingredients, food, basketball games, dips in the river, painting, building, music, darts, tents, and always the possibility of discovery and wonder. My pottery life has always been informed by all the amazing people
that I have been able to work with over the years. The potters Hayne Bayless and Tom White have been firing with me for years now along with countless other potters, artists, and those who have generously contributed time, effort, and pots to the
wood kiln.
The world out there is big, crazy, and largely unknowable. It is so important for me to belong to something bigger than myself, to have a community that holds and shares a belief in the value of making, and to remember that for me, movement, energy, progress,
and the act of creating do not come from what I already know, but what I might know next.
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The audio file for this article was produced by the Ceramic Arts Network staff and not read by the author.
Pursuing Pottery
My friend Aaron Weissblum invited me to start a pottery in Gloucester, Massachusetts, in his mother’s basement. Pretty fresh out of college I didn’t have a lot going on and didn’t know much about pottery, but I sure loved Gloucester and it was a good excuse to be closer to my girlfriend who was living in Boston at the time. We’re married now and I have been making pottery ever since. Weissblum introduced me to Mark Shapiro, and we traveled out to Western Massachusetts to help him build his wood kiln at his studio, Stonepool Pottery. I didn’t have a wheel so we built a treadle wheel, too. Before long, I had all the tools I would need. Now I just needed to learn how to make pots.
We loaded our treadle wheels into the back of our pickup truck and took them down to Penland School of Craft in North Carolina to take a class from Michael Simon in 1989. I had my wheel next to the door, as far away from the main action as possible. I was relieved when the wheel next to mine was empty—more anonymity for me. That didn’t last long. The next day working next to me was a young potter from Tennessee, Michael Kline. A year later Kline would join us at Stonepool, and we have been friends ever since.
When I first started making pottery, I reveled in the opportunity to make pots, sit at my wheel, and fill up wareboard after wareboard. I was firing the kiln at Stonepool Pottery and it was amazing. Each firing was a wonder, a discovery, a gift. Everything was so new. I worked hard. My older, more experienced colleagues pushed me. They were so good at making pottery. It was intimidating and it was magical. Beautiful pots came out of the kiln. I was happy to be there. Today, I am slower and more reflective. I spend more time in my sketchbook. The challenges are largely the same. How do I choose to love each piece of pottery that I make? How do I strike a balance between what I know (what I am good at) and forgetting everything I know in an effort to tap back into that wonderful, frenzied energy of newness? My mantra in the studio today is, “It’s all practice and everything I make is a prototype.”
Creating Work in the Shire
I have been firing my own wood kiln in Westhampton, Massachusetts, for the past 25 years. My family and I are blessed to have a beautiful spot on the North Branch of the Manhan River. My sons call where we live “the shire,” away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world. We have a campfire, a basketball hoop, an outside couch, two porches, an old farmhouse, and my studio, Dog Bar Pottery, built into the barn.
I make about half my pots on that same treadle wheel I built 35 years ago, the rest of my pots I handbuild. I use a variety of clay bodies from Starworks Clays. At some point, I started mixing sand from the river into my handbuilding clay. The sand shortens the clay, making it super easy to carve and leaving it more open and exposed. I learn best by doing, not so much by cracking open a textbook. Adding sand to my clay has opened a lot of doors and has pushed me to see my clay and materials in a new light. Now, I have dozens of sands that I have collected and folks have brought me from as far as Tasmania to the headwaters of the Amazon River, from the mountain streams in Vermont to rocky beaches in Alaska. They are all so different and full of stories and discoveries.
My studio is one of my favorite places to go in the whole world. It is 25×25 feet (7.6×7.6 m), full of pottery supplies, random art supplies, photographs of family and friends, and old tools passed down from my grandfather. I have my wheel, some workstations, and a central table. Everything that can be is on wheels. I love my big old Peter Pugger pugmill that makes reclaiming a breeze. I single fire all my pots and have a stripped-down selection of slips and glazes. An oversized sliding door opens to my kiln shed and makes for easy access to my kiln, a single-chamber catenary-arch kiln fired with wood, salt, and soda ash.
Though I spend a lot of time on my own in my studio, it is a busy place. I love making stuff with my friends. This year my son and his friends have been in the studio with DJ equipment and a giant projection screen. They have been hosting studio sessions combining music with visuals and art-making all winter. It is an unusual mix of media. They call themselves Dino Fam Productions. Having them in the studio has been an educational experience for me, and it’s a delight to witness their conversations about making, collaboration, and their own hopes and dreams.
Selling Pottery
Pottery customers are the best. They are the final collaborators in the pottery-making cycle. They take on my pots and make a life with them. Their dedication inspires me and makes room on my shelves to make more pottery. I have been to craft fairs put on by organizations from the Parent Teacher Organization to the American Craft Council. I have sold pots out of my hotel room in a pop-up sale and had beautiful home sales hosted by generous pottery patrons. I have had wonderful relationships with gallery owners and some that have not been as wonderful. These days I do mainly pottery-related events. The St. Croix Valley Pottery Tour really changed how I sell my pottery. They were pioneers of the “build it and they will come” model. As potters, we have a great community, plus we are really good at hanging out. I started going to Minnesota almost 20 years ago to participate in the St. Croix Valley Pottery Tour. Since then, I have been able to be on the ground floor of the Hilltown 6 Pottery Tour in Western Massachusetts. I have also participated in the Asparagus Valley Pottery Trail in Massachusetts, 16 Hands Studio Tour in Virginia, and some great pottery invitationals like Pottery on the Hill in DC, the Worcester Pottery Invitational in Massachusetts, and the Old Church Pottery Show and Sale in Demarest, New Jersey.
Social media is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it is a giant monster sapping the lifeblood out of the fabric of our society. On the other, it is a wonderful platform for us artists and makers to share, connect, and see each other’s work. I have seen so much beautiful and compelling pottery online. It is fabulous that we get to see work and hear stories outside of established institutions and organizations. Social media, online sales, and the internet have made my pottery world so much bigger and I think contributed to the moment of explosive interest that pottery is experiencing today.
Career Snapshot
Years as a Professional Potter
36
Number of Pots Made in a Year
1000
Education
First Thrown Pot, Bay Community School, 1972
Art History Degree, Beloit College, 1987
Built and Fired the Wood/Salt Kiln, Stonepool Pottery, with Mark Shapiro, Michael Kline, and Aaron Weissblum, 1988–1998
The Time it Takes (Percentages)
Making: 77%
Selling: 19%
Bookkeeping: 4%
Favorite Tool
treadle wheel, fettling knife
Process
reductive carving, hewing, and scraping
Where It Goes
Galleries: some years 0–15%
Studio/Home Sales: 60–75%
Online: 10–20%
Other: Invitationals (like Pottery on the Hill and Old Church Show and Sale) and workshops 10–20%
Learn More
Instagram: @dogbarpottery
Facebook: @sam.taylor.585559
www.dogbarpottery.com
Creating and Community
The wood kiln is a wonder, and not just because of the beautiful pots that come out of it. We have an amazing community and firing the wood kiln has always been a reason for us to gather and celebrate. Folks often ask if there is some way to tap into or use all the heat generated when firing the kiln. The heat is so palpable, the kiln glowing red and breathing fire. Alas, we have not figured out how to heat our house with the kiln, but the energy is infectious. My wife invites friends, family, and folks from the community to our firings, sharing in the event as well as giving space and time for more making as the kiln is being fired.
Firings get to be about sharing fabulous ingredients, food, basketball games, dips in the river, painting, building, music, darts, tents, and always the possibility of discovery and wonder. My pottery life has always been informed by all the amazing people that I have been able to work with over the years. The potters Hayne Bayless and Tom White have been firing with me for years now along with countless other potters, artists, and those who have generously contributed time, effort, and pots to the wood kiln.
The world out there is big, crazy, and largely unknowable. It is so important for me to belong to something bigger than myself, to have a community that holds and shares a belief in the value of making, and to remember that for me, movement, energy, progress, and the act of creating do not come from what I already know, but what I might know next.
Unfamiliar with any terms in this article? Browse our glossary of pottery terms!
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