Three or five feet?
When firing pottery, it is first vital to ensure that the newly-created pieces cannot affix themselves to either the boards or shelves upon which they are placed in preparation to being packed into a kiln. Likewise, when working with wood-fired equipment, etc., it is very important to ensure that the base of each piece being fired is fully exposed to whatever heat is generated. For that specific purpose, the following technique is often employed. Namely, small pieces of a highly heat-resistant clay are applied as miniature feet to the base of each individual item. That results in the entire mass of the unfired piece being effectively raised up and placed out of direct contact with everything else. Such then allows the heat of the kiln to both freely circulate and thoroughly penetrate all parts. In industry parlance, the employment of such an idea is referred to as “applying feet”.
Having offered the reader that contextual setting, I shall continue with my recollections. When I was still in my 20s, there was a research group whose activities were centered on a particular chambered kiln that was then in service. To it, young potters from throughout Japan would flock, both to learn more about the firing process itself, and to contribute their muscle when a packing was to take place. Additionally, to assist in the reader’s further understanding of what I am trying to convey, I should mention that, as structures, kilns are invariably cramped spaces. Thus, when they are being packed, it is not the case that there is a constant stream of people going backwards and forwards. Rather, whoever is calling the shots positions themselves inside, and they then proceed to issue their instructions to the help that is waiting beyond the kiln’s walls. Such instructions include asking for help in the carrying of items, the application of feet to those pieces being fired, and the handing of over of such to the person inside the kiln so that they may be properly placed in order to receive maximum benefit.
I remember the preparations that took place for one such firing. I was in attendance on my master at the time, and when he said, “three feet,” I picked out the pertinent pieces and passed them over by hand. He then proceeded to pack them as he liked in the kiln. After we had dealt with a number of such items, he then turned to me and told me to get more involved and to get my hands dirty. When doing so, he deftly put into my hand numerous chunks of a highly heat-resistant clay. Then, upon noticing that the person next to me was already applying “three feet” to pieces and then passing them over, he turned to me and said, “you do five feet instead”. Meanwhile, while that exchange was going on between us, somebody else was peering at what appeared to be some bowls, and they ordered that some get “five feet,” while others were assigned “three feet” each. Additionally, concerning another portion of the packing that was taking place, somebody dictated that we youngsters start applying “somewhat bigger feet” to certain items that were bound for the kiln. Still again, within the space within the kiln that was assigned to them, a certain potter told the youngsters he was working with that he wanted his “three feet” and “five feet” pieces clearly separated within his assigned area. By contrast, there was somebody else again whose attitude to the positioning of their own pieces was much more laissez-faire. In mentioning all those differences, what I am suggesting is that matters initially seemed to be in a state of confusion, with somebody’s pieces being separated into small, medium, and large sizes in a somewhat disordered fashion that reminded me of a candy box. Nevertheless, after two or three packings of the kiln, we youngsters gained an image of what the different potters had in mind, so we became able to pass over by hand the various items that were to be fired.
Having shared all that information, when assisting the different creators of the pottery, I realized that there was a lack of consistency in the insistence that they were inclined to express. Such was also evident vis-à-vis how each both visually perceived their pieces and the atmosphere they attached to their work. Upon gaining such an understanding, I came to appreciate the expressionism that each individual hoped to instill in their works and how it differed from person to person. Concerning that, when collectively embarking on our pottery careers, I think that on at least one occasion, everybody learns about the art’s physical manifestation acting as a vehicle for self-expression. However, through such experiences when younger, I came to appreciate that it was acceptable to incorporate inner feelings as well into the pieces I created. Put differently, I learned that both the external and internal were given a justifiable context.
Finally, I will briefly turn and discuss the keen eye of my master. He was somebody who could pick up on matters at a glance. He knew if something required “three feet” to succeed, or less of a curve, or whether, when bringing out the expression of an individual item, it should be balanced and in proportion or not.
