The need to solve a problem can be the greatest driver of innovation. In an art form where solving problems becomes a daily activity, I’m continually excited by the innovation inherent in our ceramics community. Despite being one of the most ancient forms of creative expression, there are seemingly endless possibilities to adapt and develop to achieve new and exciting results.
As an artist and maker, I am deeply driven by this exploration of technical skills and how they can be used to express ideas. I constantly find myself trying to reverse engineer the work of other potters, and I gain intense and nerdy joy from figuring out their processes and techniques.
Exploration
It was this innate drive that led me to solve a problem within my own work—how to create fine illustrative drawings on the surface of clay. A couple of years ago, a thread of an idea for a body of work began to form in my exploration of my sense of place in the Australian landscape. I had the vision of creating vessels decorated with the invasive weeds of my region. Using these illustrations as an allusion to my personal discoveries as an immigrant, I wanted the vessels to reference the scientific botanical illustrations of early European settlers.
But, as every potter knows, fine linework and clay can be unhappy bedfellows. Even the steadiest of potter’s hands can struggle with creating delicate imagery on clay, the tiniest of brushes, the finest nozzle on a slip trailer, and the delicate scraping of sgraffito can all feel insufficient to the art of drawing on paper.
After exploring the above-mentioned methods, I discovered the ancient art of mishima. First seen in 16th-century Korea, this technique involves carving a design into leather-hard clay, then inlaying a contrasting slip before scraping back the surface with a sharp tool. Taking this ancient technique as a starting point, I began to explore its possibilities. My favorite spin-off of this technique and the one that, in my experience, creates the crispest line, involves the use of wax and a homemade drawing tool.
Layering and Linework
First, coat a leather-hard piece with a layer of cold liquid wax, then carve a drawing through the wax resist into the clay body. To achieve a thin line, I use a sewing needle lodged into the eraser at the end of a pencil. This ultra-fine tool allows for the most delicately drawn lines, akin to a fine liner pen or sharp pencil line. For the most sensitive line, the pressure needs only break the skin of the wax and dip slightly into the clay body; no need to gouge too deeply (1). Then, use a soft brush to remove the fine dusting of crumbs that accumulate along each edge of the drawn line (2).
Brush a contrasting color over the lines (3). Traditionally, this is a slip but an underglaze works equally well. I like to keep the underglaze a bit thin, but not as watered down as a wash, allowing the color to sink into the carved lines.
Now, wipe away the excess underglaze to reveal the delicate inlaid lines below (4). This step is essential to get right and makes all the difference between a great result and undoing all of your hard work. My technique for this step involves a soft makeup beauty blender sponge. Rinsed and squeezed out frequently, the contour of this super-soft sponge removes the excess without pulling any color from the lines beneath. I recommend making one pass with the sponge before rotating to a clean area for best results.
The great part about this technique is that if you’re feeling really fancy, you can re-wax the piece and create lines of another color as many times as you like. Once fired, all that wonderful line work sits embedded into the surface of the piece, flush with the surface and almost imperceptible to the touch (5).
I’ve since completed this series of works, but have continued to explore this technique. My recent works push the line into a new, abstract realm (6), with great success. Being a potter means having a great many tools in your kit, and I’d highly recommend adding mishima to your toolbox of skills!
Steph Wallace is a ceramic artist working in Wadawurrung country in Ballarat, Victoria, Australia. She earned a BA in ceramics from Edinburgh College of Art and studied at Leeds Arts University in the UK. She has lectured at Federation University, is an ambassador for the UNESCO Creative Cities Network, and is co-founder of the Ballarat Clay Collective. Her work has been exhibited at institutions including the Art Gallery of Ballarat and Craft Victoria.
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The need to solve a problem can be the greatest driver of innovation. In an art form where solving problems becomes a daily activity, I’m continually excited by the innovation inherent in our ceramics community. Despite being one of the most ancient forms of creative expression, there are seemingly endless possibilities to adapt and develop to achieve new and exciting results.
As an artist and maker, I am deeply driven by this exploration of technical skills and how they can be used to express ideas. I constantly find myself trying to reverse engineer the work of other potters, and I gain intense and nerdy joy from figuring out their processes and techniques.
It was this innate drive that led me to solve a problem within my own work—how to create fine illustrative drawings on the surface of clay. A couple of years ago, a thread of an idea for a body of work began to form in my exploration of my sense of place in the Australian landscape. I had the vision of creating vessels decorated with the invasive weeds of my region. Using these illustrations as an allusion to my personal discoveries as an immigrant, I wanted the vessels to reference the scientific botanical illustrations of early European settlers.
But, as every potter knows, fine linework and clay can be unhappy bedfellows. Even the steadiest of potter’s hands can struggle with creating delicate imagery on clay, the tiniest of brushes, the finest nozzle on a slip trailer, and the delicate scraping of sgraffito can all feel insufficient to the art of drawing on paper.
After exploring the above-mentioned methods, I discovered the ancient art of mishima. First seen in 16th-century Korea, this technique involves carving a design into leather-hard clay, then inlaying a contrasting slip before scraping back the surface with a sharp tool. Taking this ancient technique as a starting point, I began to explore its possibilities. My favorite spin-off of this technique and the one that, in my experience, creates the crispest line, involves the use of wax and a homemade drawing tool.
Layering and Linework
First, coat a leather-hard piece with a layer of cold liquid wax, then carve a drawing through the wax resist into the clay body. To achieve a thin line, I use a sewing needle lodged into the eraser at the end of a pencil. This ultra-fine tool allows for the most delicately drawn lines, akin to a fine liner pen or sharp pencil line. For the most sensitive line, the pressure needs only break the skin of the wax and dip slightly into the clay body; no need to gouge too deeply (1). Then, use a soft brush to remove the fine dusting of crumbs that accumulate along each edge of the drawn line (2).
Brush a contrasting color over the lines (3). Traditionally, this is a slip but an underglaze works equally well. I like to keep the underglaze a bit thin, but not as watered down as a wash, allowing the color to sink into the carved lines.
Now, wipe away the excess underglaze to reveal the delicate inlaid lines below (4). This step is essential to get right and makes all the difference between a great result and undoing all of your hard work. My technique for this step involves a soft makeup beauty blender sponge. Rinsed and squeezed out frequently, the contour of this super-soft sponge removes the excess without pulling any color from the lines beneath. I recommend making one pass with the sponge before rotating to a clean area for best results.
The great part about this technique is that if you’re feeling really fancy, you can re-wax the piece and create lines of another color as many times as you like. Once fired, all that wonderful line work sits embedded into the surface of the piece, flush with the surface and almost imperceptible to the touch (5).
I’ve since completed this series of works, but have continued to explore this technique. My recent works push the line into a new, abstract realm (6), with great success. Being a potter means having a great many tools in your kit, and I’d highly recommend adding mishima to your toolbox of skills!
Steph Wallace is a ceramic artist working in Wadawurrung country in Ballarat, Victoria, Australia. She earned a BA in ceramics from Edinburgh College of Art and studied at Leeds Arts University in the UK. She has lectured at Federation University, is an ambassador for the UNESCO Creative Cities Network, and is co-founder of the Ballarat Clay Collective. Her work has been exhibited at institutions including the Art Gallery of Ballarat and Craft Victoria.
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