Posted on Feb 23rd, 2007
by
Chris
Christopher Greenman, Potter
Anagama Firing and “The Great Tradition”
I make functional work in the Leach/ Hamada tradition. I began my journey in clay in Ken Beittel’s pottery class at The Pennsylvania State University. Beittel’s teaching incorporated Japanese stoneware and porcelain methods. We learned in a tradition that Beittel called the “Great Tradition” which was inclusive of all the great traditions of pottery East and West. This was my foundation and when I left Penn State to pursue my own direction I sought to continue this path. I have explored raku and other atmospheric firing methods, such as salt firing, soda firing and other types of wood firing kilns. When I have had access to an anagama kiln, I have taken advantage of the opportunity in order to absorb all I could from the experience. The process of preparing wood, a week long loading process, 100 hour firing process, a one week cool down period of waiting and the camaraderie of friends and students all contribute to the each firing of the anagama. Currently, I am on the fire team for Fat Bastard the anagama kiln at the University of Montevallo. It is a responsibility and honor that I take very seriously. As with all the processes of working in clay I want to learn as much as I can about the process. The anagama kiln and firing process holds for me a reverence. It is about tradition, process, and working with a community to create the river of flame and ash that will knowingly decorate the strategically placed ware inside the belly of Fat Bastard. Unloadings are times to share in discoveries and disappointments and to celebrate the successes of the community of potters and pots. Because of the strong beginnings of my pottery career, my pursuit is about a desire to follow a part of the “Great Tradition” which Ken Beittel speaks about in Zen and the Art of Pottery . A special bonus for me is to work along side my friend Scott Meyer. Scott built Fat Bastard in 1998 at the University of Montevallo with the help of his students and family. While we both formed our foundation in clay under Ken Beittel, since graduate school, we took very different aesthetic pathways.
Process
In the ceramic working process, pots change from raw clay sliding through the fingers as forms evolve from the dialog between potter and clay. Clay is chosen for its previous successful interaction with the effects of anagama firing; and forms are created for teasing the effects of the anagama firing process to come out and play. When each throwing session is over, I stand and look at freshly thrown ware, taking in the nuances of surface, textures, and marks of fingers, inviting light to play across their surfaces. Later when the pots have been trimmed and dried just to leather hard, they reveal a more finished relationship between surface and form. This state is lost again when the forms are dried to bone hard and further obscured when they are bisque fired. As I ready my work for a firing of Fat Bastard, I dream again of the potential of the impending intense dance that will commence between the clay forms and the affects of fire, atmosphere, heat, flame and ash flow. The process begins again when I take my pieces out of my packing boxes and prepare them for strategic placement in the belly of fat bastard and when I converse with the community of potters who range in experience.
When I have unpacked the pots from the firing back in the crowded space of my studio, each Fat Bastard (anagama) fired piece speaks volumes of its experience with the firing, like students or children with as much to teach me, each one with its own special story beckoning me to explore its world. They are strangers as much as raku pots emerging from the raku process. Their skins reveal their experience and position in relation to flame and ash marks bestowed across their forms. I like to put my work in the kiln void of any glaze so that the work reveals as much of the process from forming to interaction with the flame and ash. Naked they reveal their birth and record their life experience. Clay in dialog with me; the process of forming; and the process of anagama firing now in dialog with you. Nuances of colors of reds, browns and greens on surfaces that range from satin, to buff, to rough, to smooth and slick. Textures formed from layers of ash give a depth to surfaces. Ash drips tell of gravity and long dialogs of heat and ash. Looking at the surface of a sushi plate is akin to looking into the depth of a Rothko painting. Textures left in the clay are bathed in an ash wash that has blown like snow across the surface of fauna. Marks left on pots surfaces that have the logic of melting snow on earth warmed by the suns glow.
I still need and desire to explore the process of high fire reduction firing in the gas kiln. With these pieces I am using typical traditional glazes many from the syllabus given out in Beittel’s beginning clay class: Tenmoku, Celadon, and Troy’s Copper Red. I have been using a lot of a Shino glaze that I found on line. A Peach to Red Shino. The variations of surfaces and markings in dialog with various shinos, clay bodies, stains, and heavy reduction all relative to what I desire in the results of atmospheric firings. Many viewers, including potters, have likened these works to wood fired pots. The depth is there, but not the process of long heats, layers of ash, or even the process of community. It is important for me to question the aesthetics of both processes as they relate to my work and and my aesthetic journey Many of my woodfired pots are stored in my studio because of their remarkably strong differences to my high fired reduction work.or perhaps it is just because I need to interact with their dialog again.
Brief Biography:
My beginnings in art were influenced by my grandfather who bought and sold antiques, restored old houses and furniture; was a photographer who had his own darkroom in the house and who earned his living as an architectural engineer. I remember the days that my brother and I layed down on oriental rugs and poured through my gradfather's stacks of magazines from the fifties, Life, Antiques and Modern Photography. It is from this strong foundation that I grew to appreciate fine work done by hand and the importance of seeing.
Upon graduating with an art history degree from Penn State in 1980, I worked at the Harkus Krakow gallery in Boston handing works by Hans Hoffman, Anthony Caro, Michael Mazer and Adolf Gottlieb. Before returning to graduate school in 1982, I worked restoring eighteenth century New England houses, taking them apart and rebuilding them.
My career path was strongly influenced by the interaction of the graduate students, faculty and the program in Art Education in the early eighties at the Pennsylvania State University. A rich mixture of personalities was met with the spark of wisdom that eminated from the presence of Professor Ken Beittel. I had originally gone back to Penn State to pursue a Masters degree in Museum Education. The community of the grad program was so rich for me at that time that I decided to continue on and get my doctorate. It was at this time that I took my first clay class with Dr. “B” as my teacher. Beittel was in the process of getting the manuscript of Zen and the Art of Pottery published at that time. Within this grad school community we students shared our knowledge and dreams and supported one another in our pursuits. We learned about the “Great Tradition” of pottery and Zen while discussing Collingwood, Heidegger and Phenomenology and KenWilber. I learned about the Leach /Hamada tradition and influences of artists like Voulkos and other abstract expressionists on the studio craft movement. We were all greatly influenced by the studio craft movement of artists like Dale Chihuly, Albert Paley, Paula Winokur, and many others.
After receiving my doctorate in 1990, I landed a position as Curator of the Kentucky Art and Craft Gallery in Louisville, Kentucky. This allowed me to explore the history of art, craft and folk art in the South including meeting the many good potters in that state. In fact, many comparisons could be made with the Tom and Ginny Marsh’s ceramic program at the University of Louisville and Ken Beittel’s program at Penn State. Both programs held a reverence for the Japanese pottery tradition. While being a curator put me in close contact with many artists it limited my time working in clay. In 1996, I left Louisville to look for a teaching position and found one in Montgomery, Alabama.
I am now an Associate Professor at Alabama State University in Montgomery where I teach ceramics, art history, and art education. I built a studio and a small gas kiln behind my house in 2003, where I do high fire reduction work with Shino glazes. I have been using the craft fair circuit as my showcase. It is a lot of hard work, but I feel that it gets me and my work out to the community. Perhaps it is part of an old romanticization of sixties ideals and the example of my grandfathers” traveling to antique shows to show his work and connoisseurship. My better pieces are entered into Museum shows in the South and beyond. What has affected my art most since moving to Alabama is that I am about eighty miles away from my former Penn State art education classmate from my grad school days. “Our desks were inches a part.” His camaraderie has been a real inspiration to my work in clay, reinforcing the pursuit of the “Great Tradition.”
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