About Porcelain

Unfired work in the bisque kiln

WHAT IS PORCELAIN ?

There is a great deal of mystery surrounding porcelain.   An intriguing history of secrets and espionage spanning hundreds of years fuels the present day confusion about this wonderful material.   Porcelain is a type of clay defined by its composition.   The coveted recipe consists of the combination of feldspar, a quartz-like compound, with kaolin, a white clay.   A small percentage of other additives are included to improve the plasticity of the clay, improving its texture and workability.   These ingredients are then fired in a kiln at a temperature hundreds of degrees higher than other clays, creating true porcelain.  

The quartz component gives this clay superior strength, like the white quartz stones you find on the beach.   It is a stone with volcanic origins, and the higher firing temperature means that despite its appearance of delicacy, it is less likely to chip or break than other ceramic material.   Kaolin lends its pure white color and gives body to the mix.   This formula plus the high heat was the secret the Chinese discovered sometime during the T'ang Dynasty, which ruled between 618 and 906 AD.

For about a thousand years the Chinese kept their porcelain formula from the rest of the world.   The luminous quality of the work, the way light passes though its walls, was a fascinating delight.   It was in very high demand by royal courts around the globe.   Porcelain vessels were often mounted in gold and silver gilt and embellished with enamels and pearls.   Literally a gift fit for a king, it was said that by the end of the seventeenth century no palace or large house was complete without its Chinese themed room and a cabinet of Chinese porcelain.

As those centuries passed the Europeans did not sit idle.   They experimented imaginatively with ingredients that mimicked the unique qualities of Chinese porcelain.   Was it oyster shells that lent the translucent quality? Or bone ash that made the clay strong and white? Could the addition of sand or glass be the answer?

Many ceramic wares we are familiar with today were born out of this effort.   Bone china from England and French soft-paste porcelain entered the market.   Even Italian majolica was inspired in this way.   Earthenware clay was given a base coat of tin white and then painted with color, copying the famous blue and white pottery of the Ming Dynasty.   The Germans struck gold in 1709 when the efforts of two men set up in a lab for this purpose discovered the porcelain formula.   This led to the establishment of the Meissen factory, the first true porcelain manufacturer in Europe.   Germany held on to their monopoly for a time, but after a series of betrayals (first said to be by the drinking buddy of the original discoverer), the formula spread to Vienna and beyond.   The English discovered they had their own supply of the coveted ingredients under their feet all along, and in 1768 the country's first true porcelain was made at a factory in Devon.

The allure of porcelain has not diminished.   Its inherent beauty and rich history make it a wonderful material in which to devote an artistic life.   The privilege to have one's own studio and to be encouraged towards individual expression, in contrast to the days of strict factory production, is a fortunate circumstance indebted to the support of present day collectors.

A NOTE ABOUT HANDBUILDING

My work is constructed using the slab handbuilding technique, which differs from throwing on the potter's wheel.   I roll out thin sheets of clay, like making a pie crust.   This ensures an even thickness that makes my pieces light and strong.   Forming curved pieces from flat sheets of clay is a design challenge, one that contributes to the unusual look of my ceramics.  

Why choose to handbuild when throwing on the wheel is faster?   I feel the results are more personable.   The forms align themselves more closely to the natural world.   I like the fact the measurements are based on my own hands.   The curves of an edge are determined by the increments of my own fingers.   I am connected to this work, and this immediacy links me back to all the potters throughout history, who sat and made their pots, one at a time.   It is a grand legacy.   I love to go to museums and view ancient pottery.   To seek out a fingerprint left on a Moche vessel, a Mayan figurine, or on an abstract sculpture of the Mycenaean people makes me feel a part of this long tradition.

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