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About Fireborn Studios
Artist Statement - Donna Hetrick
Clay is so simple and so ancient. I am fascinated by the many facets of pottery
making, from digging clay out of a riverbank, to building a primitive kiln in the hillside
or sitting mesmerized as I watch the orange glow of a kiln against the night sky.
I am primarily a hand builder with a strong interest in surface, texture and form. I love
to drop out a slab, watch the clay stretch and pick up texture from my work surface, or
to pinch a pot and stretch it larger and larger into an archetypal vessel or container .
My thrown forms are typically altered by pinching or paddling, cutting and joining.
I want my pieces to communicate the incredible versatility of clay, its plasticity and its
strength. Each piece is a record of all that has happened to it, where I have touched it
with my fingers or other objects or tools, a reminder that once the clay was soft. Then
the pieces are committed to the fire. I want the fire to make its mark, to melt the glaze,
add a flash of color. Firing connects me to the essence of pottery, to potters
throughout the world and human history, all of whom have relied upon fire to finish
their work.
Thoughts
Even though Y2K has passed, I am leaving this up because it speaks to some good
issues.
A potter's thoughts on the Millenium and where handmade pottery fits into the
technological age.
by Donna Hetrick of Fireborn Studio
As we turn to face the new century I am compelled to remember what a constant
force pottery has been through the ages. Many millennia have passed since we
became humans and the process of digging and shaping clay became an integral
part of life on this planet. Making pottery was even in its earliest stages a creative
process that yielded vessels for sustaining life as well as spirituality. Handmade
pottery was used in the most utilitarian sense, as well made containers for storing
food and water were vital for survival. Ceremonial vessels were also an integral part
of the spiritual center of every social structure. It is, of course, the shards from both
utilitarian and ceremonial vessels that tell us stories of daily activities and spiritual
practices, painting a vivid picture of ages gone by.
As I ponder the technological revolution that has invaded our culture and my own life
in this millennium, I am unsettled by many things. Children learn to use computers
before they learn to write. The need to create has disappeared as machines churn
out the day-to-day utilitarian objects, like clothing and utensils, that we need to
survive. We have lost an important spiritual connection to the things that we use in
our daily lives. We use our hands less and less for making beautiful things. The time
to relax and tap into our creative souls has been stolen from us. To many, the web of
life appears to be made of impersonal power grids and circuit boards.
In the midst of this complicated, fast paced life and the stress that threatens to
consume us, I wonder, what is it that we need to survive and what happens if we
lose our ability to touch, to craft, to revere? Will shards from our work be here for the
next millennium? Will anyone be here to find those shards and discover our story?
I believe that in spite of technology, and indeed because of it, there is an even greater
need for handmade pottery. I know this because as technology moves into more and
more areas of my life, I find it increasingly necessary to "pinch" pots. Working with the
clay is therapeutic; a great stress reliever. It slows me down and pulls me back. I am
drawn into other realms. My left hand/right brain takes over at times when the critical
form of the pot is developing. I stroke the clay and feel a oneness with the earth and
past worlds. Burnishing delights my fingertips. I can touch the spirits of my Native
American and African sisters who learned to shape pots by hand from their mothers
and their grandmothers. I connect with potters through the ages who have learned to
shape and smooth clay into the objects they needed for physical and spiritual
survival. I become lost in the soothing process and time slips away. At the end of the
process, I feel relaxed and rejuvenated.
Our adult pottery classes have allowed many people to step back from the stresses
of this high tech world and find a bit of peace as they connect with the clay and
perhaps a piece of their long buried heritage. We find that even people who have
never made a clay pot are drawn into the process and experience the joy of creating
a beautiful and utilitarian work of art just as our ancestors must have done.
In our children's classes we strive to give the children a sense of what the process
has meant through the ages. We have dug clay out of the earth with children, carried
it back to the studio, formed pieces from it and fired them in order to allow the
children to experience the life sustaining process as their ancestors did. One has
only to watch children making pots to realize that the ability to model clay is an innate
ability that is ages old. Watching a child's self esteem blossom as they form the clay
is proof enough that children need to work with their hands. We cannot allow the art
of pottery to be pushed aside as machines and computers invade more and more of
our work and recreational time.
Take the time to take a pottery class!
Clay is so simple and so ancient. I am fascinated by the many facets of pottery
making, from digging clay out of a riverbank, to building a primitive kiln in the hillside
or sitting mesmerized as I watch the orange glow of a kiln against the night sky.
I am primarily a hand builder with a strong interest in surface, texture and form. I love
to drop out a slab, watch the clay stretch and pick up texture from my work surface, or
to pinch a pot and stretch it larger and larger into an archetypal vessel or container .
My thrown forms are typically altered by pinching or paddling, cutting and joining.
I want my pieces to communicate the incredible versatility of clay, its plasticity and its
strength. Each piece is a record of all that has happened to it, where I have touched it
with my fingers or other objects or tools, a reminder that once the clay was soft. Then
the pieces are committed to the fire. I want the fire to make its mark, to melt the glaze,
add a flash of color. Firing connects me to the essence of pottery, to potters
throughout the world and human history, all of whom have relied upon fire to finish
their work.
Thoughts
Even though Y2K has passed, I am leaving this up because it speaks to some good
issues.
A potter's thoughts on the Millenium and where handmade pottery fits into the
technological age.
by Donna Hetrick of Fireborn Studio
As we turn to face the new century I am compelled to remember what a constant
force pottery has been through the ages. Many millennia have passed since we
became humans and the process of digging and shaping clay became an integral
part of life on this planet. Making pottery was even in its earliest stages a creative
process that yielded vessels for sustaining life as well as spirituality. Handmade
pottery was used in the most utilitarian sense, as well made containers for storing
food and water were vital for survival. Ceremonial vessels were also an integral part
of the spiritual center of every social structure. It is, of course, the shards from both
utilitarian and ceremonial vessels that tell us stories of daily activities and spiritual
practices, painting a vivid picture of ages gone by.
As I ponder the technological revolution that has invaded our culture and my own life
in this millennium, I am unsettled by many things. Children learn to use computers
before they learn to write. The need to create has disappeared as machines churn
out the day-to-day utilitarian objects, like clothing and utensils, that we need to
survive. We have lost an important spiritual connection to the things that we use in
our daily lives. We use our hands less and less for making beautiful things. The time
to relax and tap into our creative souls has been stolen from us. To many, the web of
life appears to be made of impersonal power grids and circuit boards.
In the midst of this complicated, fast paced life and the stress that threatens to
consume us, I wonder, what is it that we need to survive and what happens if we
lose our ability to touch, to craft, to revere? Will shards from our work be here for the
next millennium? Will anyone be here to find those shards and discover our story?
I believe that in spite of technology, and indeed because of it, there is an even greater
need for handmade pottery. I know this because as technology moves into more and
more areas of my life, I find it increasingly necessary to "pinch" pots. Working with the
clay is therapeutic; a great stress reliever. It slows me down and pulls me back. I am
drawn into other realms. My left hand/right brain takes over at times when the critical
form of the pot is developing. I stroke the clay and feel a oneness with the earth and
past worlds. Burnishing delights my fingertips. I can touch the spirits of my Native
American and African sisters who learned to shape pots by hand from their mothers
and their grandmothers. I connect with potters through the ages who have learned to
shape and smooth clay into the objects they needed for physical and spiritual
survival. I become lost in the soothing process and time slips away. At the end of the
process, I feel relaxed and rejuvenated.
Our adult pottery classes have allowed many people to step back from the stresses
of this high tech world and find a bit of peace as they connect with the clay and
perhaps a piece of their long buried heritage. We find that even people who have
never made a clay pot are drawn into the process and experience the joy of creating
a beautiful and utilitarian work of art just as our ancestors must have done.
In our children's classes we strive to give the children a sense of what the process
has meant through the ages. We have dug clay out of the earth with children, carried
it back to the studio, formed pieces from it and fired them in order to allow the
children to experience the life sustaining process as their ancestors did. One has
only to watch children making pots to realize that the ability to model clay is an innate
ability that is ages old. Watching a child's self esteem blossom as they form the clay
is proof enough that children need to work with their hands. We cannot allow the art
of pottery to be pushed aside as machines and computers invade more and more of
our work and recreational time.
Take the time to take a pottery class!
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