Jack Doherty scrapes texture into one of his thrown forms. Doherty
explains, “I want each action, each mark, to add to and change the
work, and I want the kiln to have an opportunity to unify so many
different decisions and
actions.”
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Dark ribbed bowl, 14 in. (36 cm) in diameter, thrown porcelain, soda
fired.
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Ribbed yunomi (teacup), 4½ in. (11 cm) in height, thrown
porcelain, soda fired.
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Ribbed bowl, 19 in. (48 cm) in diameter, thrown porcelain, soda
fired.
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Monthly Method: Single Mindedness
by Jack Doherty
I have been gradually simplifying the way I work. I use a single clay
type, though porcelain has many faces. I use a single oxide for color,
and I single fire my pots in a soda kiln without using a pyrometer or
control system. In no way am I a technophobe; I own and use as many
gadgets as the next person. Its just that, for me, so many things can
get in the way of making and firing pots.
The only coloring material I use is copper carbonate. I use it in three
different ways: 1) as a thin wash mixed with water, applied to incised
surfaces then wiped away; 2) as a 2% addition to a porcelain slip that
is applied to the dry pots; 3) as a 2% addition to the porcelain clay
body.
I apply a thin slab of this stained clay to many of my pots. I center
and partly open the form then I add a copper clay layer to the inside
of the form. After gently pinching the added clay, making it stick to
the body of the form, I then carry on throwing. The stained clay
becomes a thin veneer on the inside of the pot. During the firing, when
the soda vapor touches the pots, the copper migrates through the body
of the pot giving gentle flashes of color and texture.
The pots are always made in the same way, but I fire the kiln in
different ways. I use a Cone 10 reduction firing that produces hard
shiny surfaces with a color range from pale turquoise to sea green. I
have recently developed a Cone 6 firing with a long period of oxidation
at the end, which produces matt surfaces and softer colors; yellows,
oranges and a sharp cerulean blue.
I fire in a 25-cubic-foot catenary arch kiln that I designed twenty
years ago. It is built from insulating bricks and fired with two
propane burners. A typical firing starts with a three-hour warm up. All
the pots are once fired, and a normal pack will consist of a mix of
small pieces, cups, teabowls, etc., and large heavier forms. During the
day, I slowly increase the gas pressure by 2psi per half hour until I
reach the maximum output of 18psi. When Cone 06 melts, I begin a light
reduction by altering the slide damper until I have gentle back
pressure, causing a flame from the spy hole. I don’t make any
adjustment to the burners. As Cone 8 softens, I begin spraying a
solution of sodium bicarbonate and water into nine ports situated in
the front and back of the kiln. I mix 1 pound of sodium bicarbonate
with 5 pints of boiling water; this proportion will mix perfectly
leaving no residue to block the sprayer. I do this five times, using a
total of 5 pounds of sodium bicarbonate. During spraying, Cone 9 will
have melted, and I continue firing until Cone 10 is flat. I soak the
kiln for half an hour, turn off the burners and, regardless of the time
of day or night, drink a large cup of local
cider.
For more tips and techniques on soda firing, check out Gail Nichols' book Soda, Clay and Fire.
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Jack Doherty:
Brightness and Rightness
by Helen Bevis
Jack
Doherty is a familiar face to British potters. He is the archetypal
potter—driven by his passion for ceramics and generous with his time.
As the long-standing chairman of the Craft Potters Association (CPA) he
has dedicated himself to promoting ceramics. In addition to somehow
finding the time to make his own pots, he has taught, advised and
volunteered. Within the maelstrom, his own pots have been submerged
under the weight of his public commitments—until now.
A recent exhibition demonstrated that Doherty is turning a corner and
devoting more time to his own work. In the past few years, his life has
taken a new direction and he is emerging with an extraordinary energy
and vigor for ceramics. His new work is stronger, bolder, more positive
and more focused. The pots stand proud and speak volumes for the art of
their maker. Doherty is in the prime of his life and is obviously
enjoying himself.
He recalls a trip to 1960s London when he was a student at Belfast Art
College. At the time, he wasn’t convinced that ceramics was a good
thing to do; he wanted to be a painter. A well-connected lecturer
arranged for Doherty and his fellow students to visit a London potter
to see for themselves how a dedicated maker lived and worked. With the
powerful composure of someone at ease with her life, this potter showed
her own work and that of Hans Coper and Bernard Leach. Something
connected and Doherty was overwhelmed by the “completeness and
rightness of it all.” Doherty’s life path was chosen. That potter was
Lucie Rie.
This brief moment of insight has stayed with Doherty throughout his
career, through all its variations. He started out as a potter
designing tableware for the ceramics industry at the Kilkenny Design
Workshops, Kilkenny, Ireland. At the same time he was making and
exhibiting his own ceramics. His individual work won gold medals at
international exhibitions in Faenza and Vallauris, affirming that his
heart lay as a studio potter. Ironically, Rie also once worked with
industry, but her designs for Wedgwood were never put into production.
Doherty’s short time working with industry impregnated his own work
with a sense of usefulness and purpose that remains a permanent theme.
He moved to England in 1983 to continue making studio pottery, but
nearer to galleries and the ceramics community.
Doherty delights in the idea that his pieces will be used. For
instance, a wall plaque can be lifted from its hanging point and put
onto the table to engage with the ceremony of feasting. He makes
conventional forms—bottles, bowls, boxes, platters and jars—but with an
unconventional twist. He pushes, pulls and manipulates the form away
from ceramic conventions. Yet the pots retain their dignity and never
become parodies of traditional shapes. A teabowl looks like a teabowl
but with a kiss of Irish intelligence. There is the fluidity that comes
from a maker in tune with the wheel and the clay. His pots have
humanity in their scale and decoration. Surfaces are pierced, gouged
and scraped with an artful combination of masculinity and delicacy. A
swift stroke with a rib or found object is enough to add a deft touch
of detail.
Doherty’s clay of choice is porcelain. As a material it comes with a
wealth of historical baggage. Ceramic history tells us that porcelain
is fine, porcelain is expensive and porcelain is delicate. While this
is true, there is a stronger, egotistical side to porcelain. Doherty
rejects the notion that handmade porcelain can only be defined by the
ceramic industry’s standards of refinement. It’s a complex material
that deserves to have its multiple attributes explored; it can achieve
both a delicate translucency and a strong and powerful form.
To suit his different needs Doherty uses two types of porcelain; one an
icy bright white and the other a gentle ivory color. He gets his
porcelain from Potclays in Stoke-on-Trent, England. The icy white body
is called “Jab” and the ivory body is called “Harry Fraser.”
Doherty’s influences can be seen to represent the two sides of
porcelain’s potential: the extreme elegance of a Rie pot and the
intensely forceful throwing in Asian ceramics. He talks of an
inspirational Korean vase thrown in two sections with a neck about an
inch thick. It was clearly not stoneware as it had “brightness and
rightness about it.” It is this “rightness” that Doherty aims for in
his work. Many of his pieces are thrown in two sections to achieve that
right monumentality.
Porcelain can’t be treated like stoneware or earthenware. It’s a very
responsive material with unique sensual qualities. Doherty is
passionate about the clay and respectful of its character. “It shows me
what I can’t do sometimes, there’s a dialog there that is ongoing,” he
explains. Even now, not everything works and he laughingly remarks that
he should have learned by now not to make mistakes. But making mistakes
is part of the ongoing learning process; the continuing quest for
creative exploration and answers.
The adventure doesn’t end with the wheel and the clay. Doherty single
fires his work in a soda kiln. If the clay hasn’t slapped him into
place for daring to push the material too far then the kiln will pick
up on any weaknesses. He loses pots to the kiln regularly but these are
accepted sacrifices in his perpetual cycle of throwing, forming, firing
and dialog. His drawings and sketches are a vital part of this process.
They are a way of exploring in two dimensions the swells, curves and
nicks of decoration that Doherty seeks. He talks to himself through the
drawings, even scolds and challenges himself never to make anything
boring or ugly again.
Decoration comes from within and without. Splashes of color emerge on
the unglazed surface through the marriage of the firing and the slabs
of copper rich porcelain that Doherty throws into the body part of the
way through the making cycle. The reduction atmosphere reveals earthy
tones and turquoise blushes that hint of the sea. Doherty’s family were
fishermen on the north coast of Ireland and perhaps this heritage is
revealed in his attraction to watery hues.
Dialog is the key to understanding Doherty’s work. He elegantly
describes the process of making as creating “wholeness out of disparate
elements.” There is the clay, the wheel and the kiln. Then there is the
internal dialog that every maker faces as they start the day at the
wheel.
As a frequent selector for exhibitions and the CPA, Doherty is acutely
aware of the debates about what makes a good pot. Work as a selector
inevitably puts the selector in the spotlight as much as the hopeful
exhibitor. It’s impossible not to compare your work to the array of
work presented for selection. It’s an enormous responsibility selecting
work for a show. Arguably it’s more difficult to reject someone than
accept them. Rejection could potentially turn someone away from
ceramics for life.
But then, as Doherty says, “There are times to be critical and there
are times to just get on with making.” At these times, it’s important
to forget about what people think about the work, forget about
selection and forget about how the work is going to be seen. Then it is
time to immerse yourself, as a maker, in that time and place,
surrounded by the materials and the drawings. In the calm of his studio
there is time to sit back, look at the work and ask himself questions.
What was I trying to do there? What bit of that worked? Very often,
it’s a great time of confusion and delight as good elements battle with
weaker parts. The debate continues with each pot.
His commitment to ceramics education and development hasn’t been lost.
If anything it has taken a richer direction. Doherty has just been
appointed to the position of Lead Potter at the Leach Pottery in St.
Ives, Cornwall. His new step takes him back to his roots as a designer
and maker. In Doherty, the renovated and expanded Leach Pottery has
found a new leader and potter able to rival the ghosts of ceramic
history that haunt St. Ives.
Without Bernard Leach, studio ceramics may never have become a vibrant
living force and without Lucie Rie, Doherty may never have become a
potter. Through Doherty, two strands of ceramic history will work
together on one wheel. Add to this mix Doherty’s evident talent and it
is certain that the results will be intriguing. He will be leading the
education program and designing the production range of pottery.
Trainee potters will make the pots designed by Doherty, leaving him
free to continue creating and developing his own work. This is a
thrilling project.
There is a neat circle to the way Doherty was inspired as a student and
now in turn is inspiring newcomers. His holistic approach to
ceramics is indeed inspirational. Doherty’s pots are amongst the best
of his generation of British potters. They are unpretentious, eloquent
ceramics that speak to us of ceramics histories and futures. With
Doherty as a mentor, the future of British ceramics is looking full of
brightness and rightness. Just like Jack
Doherty. |
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