I make pottery not only out of a passion for my material, clay, and for the complex processes of wheel throwing and atmospheric firing, but also out of a passion for living with, using, and sharing handmade objects. For me, using pottery daily is an act of celebration. My philosophy of making pots comes in part from the particular history of utilitarian pottery that has developed over the last sixty years in Minnesota and Western Wisconsin, where I went to school and began my career as a potter. More recently, the form language that I employ in my work has developed out of a study of historical pottery and glass vessels, along with architecture. My crisp forms are contrasted with enigmatic surfaces that undulate around the vessels, speaking to a sense of timelessness and ephemerality.

My formative years in ceramics unfolded in Western Wisconsin and in the St. Croix valley of Eastern Minnesota, where many of the regional potters, including my teachers and mentors, subscribe to a philosophy that emphasizes a strong work ethic, prolific production, and the idea that one’s work should be accessible to a wide audience. This philosophy continues to be a driving factor in my work. I believe that pottery can heighten daily experiences and act as a catalyst to bring people together for communion and celebration. The mindful interactions that come with use impress intrinsic meaning upon handmade pots, creating a narrative woven into each use. For me, pottery is a way of life.

I fire my work using a process called soda firing, which originated in the 1970’s and evolved from salt firing, developed in Germany in the 15th century. My soda firing uses a gas-fired kiln in which sodium carbonate, also known as soda ash, is introduced into the atmosphere at its peak temperature. The soda ash volatizes in the hot kiln, is carried along with the flame, and is attracted to the silica within the clay body, forming a glaze directly on the surface of the objects. The color and texture of the surfaces are influenced by how restricted or unrestricted the flame is as it carries the soda ash throughout the kiln. My research involves not only manipulating the chemistry of the clay bodies I use to produce a particular range of unusual colors and textures, but also developing a series of different firing schedules, in which I regulate the speed of the firing and the atmosphere within the kiln as it heats up and as it cools, in a particular process called “downfiring.” The loading of the pottery into the kiln is important as it directs the path of the flame through the wares. The pots are placed touching each other, while protective “wadding” is placed against or directly onto the surfaces of vessels to cut or redirect the flame. The way in which the pots are loaded blocks and directs the flame around and onto each pot allowing me to orchestrate the patterning on each piece within the kiln stack. Soda firing inherently creates enigmatic surfaces and cannot be completely harnessed. Despite my meticulous planning, collaboration between kiln and I always occurs. The spontaneity that is produced in every firing, and on the surface of each pot, is of enduring fascination to me and is what keeps me endlessly excited about this way of working.

The range of surface created from soda firing is exciting, dynamic, and enigmatic. I utilize soda firing as a way to explore phenomenological patterning, implying the inherently uncontrollability of natural processes. Erosion and deposition on the surface of the wares occur simultaneously during the making and firing processes. Bands of color dance across ceramic surfaces recalling topography created through millions of years of geological activity, or markings on an agate slowly formed by the deposition of minerals washing through a confined space. Pitting in the ceramic surface resulting from sand interacting with soda ash speaks to the localized melting caused by salt placed on an icy sidewalk on a chilly midwestern morning. Restricted areas in the kiln cause shadows to occur, and repetition in these shadows suggests the meandering of fleeting sunlight across a room in the late afternoon. By connecting the ephemerality of natural process and ceramic materials, I capture a series of instants in time within the kiln and distill them into a singular moment in the form of ceramic. The soda firing process is a metaphor for the recording and preservation of these ephemeral and ineffable phenomena.

These enigmatic surfaces are cast upon crisp forms that locate themselves in a time and place. The form language I have developed in my work is a culmination of diverse experiences and interests. The fluidity and strength of Etruscan pottery, the delicacy of hand-blown Venetian glass, and the materiality and visual heaviness of Brutalist architecture all inform the way I compose forms, while my daily habits and the generosity in pottery forms and ideology of the studio pottery movement have informed why I compose the forms that I do. I look to forms that visually excite me or make me feel sentimental as a starting point for the work. Symmetry and asymmetry, repetition, line, and silhouette are all emphasized as a strategy to create a strong visual and physical presence. My ideas are developed through repetition. Each form is made repeatedly, each pot a slight variation of the last. Within each round of work, I find a “muse”: an ideal form that instigates the next series of permutations. Intuition and instinct are followed and drive the making. I hope that this methodology allows me to find a “truth” in the work that speaks directly to the user, a truth of non-hesitancy, a truth of both history and of presence. I strive to make these pots inviting, but I also want them to bring about questioning, not of the utility of the pot itself, but of the complacency that can be part of using domestic objects. There is a certain tension created when one holds a handle that juts off the top of a jug. Delicately formed stems allow cups to spring from the table; one must consider how to hold these objects and how to drink from them. Dancing shadows may direct food placement on a plate, or how one may hold a simple cup. The greatest hope I have for my pots is that they find a mindful use and add to the narrative of life through ephemeral and ordinary moments or with celebration.

Tinkering drives my studio practice. I tinker with my clay bodies, firing schedules, and pottery forms. Ten new clay bodies are formulated and mixed at one time, all with varying amounts or types of clay, silica, or flux. In each new firing, one variable is manipulated from the last. I sit down at my Leach-style pottery wheel with fifteen lumps of clay and make fifteen pots that each spring from a particular set of ideas, characteristics, and formal problems I am seeking to further understand. I am slow in my evolution as a maker yet make many pots. I find meaning in the numbers. Through the permutations, the pots become more nuanced and genuine and quantities of truthfully made pots suggest a sense of optimism and yearning for use. My pots are accessible for everyday use yet can also be used in and as an act of celebration. I strive to uphold the traditions of the studio pottery movement and follow those who came before me. Utilitarian pottery induces mindfulness and facilitates gathering and celebration and I hope that my pots are able to be recognized during these meaningful acts.