Hello. yes, it has been forever since I have written. sorry. I fell into a space in which I couldn't see all that clearly. This happens in the nature of human interaction- sometimes a person just doesn't know what's going on... best to keep the mouth shut and let it be what it is...
So I'm done with the Penland part of this adventure. The Penland part was excellent in any number of ways- I learned a lot, not necessarily about firing with vegatable oil, but more about the puzzle of humanity, the navigation of a class, and the funny ways that my hopeful nature reveals itself... we were a bit of a ship without a rudder. what to do? some sulked on the bow. some threw bread to the seagulls. some cobbled together parts and lashed it to the starboard rail...
I'll try to summarize the information of the second month here: we focussed on the salt kiln, in which we could fire green-glazed work. Kent pulled one of the propane burners out and substituted his weed burner. It worked well enough, lagging in the first part of the firing, and catching up by the end. We maintained, to our ability, a flow of oil along the iron channel, ending at or just before the soft brick "wick" at the end, resting inside the kiln firebox. Readings on the amount of propane consumed in this firing were difficult to make. We did go through five gallons of vegetable oil. That area of the kiln was primarily oxidized, as expected. Nice results. This was the case in two of our salt firings. For the final firing, we had all four burners on propane, for various reasons.
In an experimental mood, I did modify the soda kiln for a firing, about half-way through the course. With the intention of hooking up the big rotary burner, I built an interior firebox that extended the combustion space needed for the fry oil. photoshop would help- soon everything will be properly oriented..
so what you're looking at is that I removed half of the existing bagwall, designed for the short propane flame, and built this perforated wall to the side, and a solid wall in the back. then fellow student Joshua and I tried to imagine how the flame would move through there- it goes along, it hits a big blockade. it bounces mostly upward. it hits another blockage- the shelf above it. at this level, the wall is more open, so the hope of the configuration was so force the flame sideways and upward among the staggered shelving of the next level. and in the reading of the cones during the firing, it seemed like it was pretty much working- at first, the top back was hottest, as the flame was simply rising , and the portion next to the door, which was stacked as normal with pots, was fairly even at red heat.. we switched to fry oil. cones fell faster than I've ever seen cones fall before- all over the kiln. I was trying to maintain a good body reduction, but the final results showed a general lack of success., or perhaps having lost it later in the firing..
I kept the propane burner on as well, so that there was one big fry oiler, and one propane as per normal procedure.. I tried turning off the latter at some point, but had no temperature increase with the oil alone.. probably just too crazy of a flame path for it to do it's work properly. what was perplexing to me was that at a certain point, about cone 9, nothing i did could increase the temp. I tried everything i could think of including firing neutral, to no avail. results showed up oxidized, with the hottest part of the kiln at the middle of the door, right where the flame would have been most violently redirected. variation from cone 8 at the top back (above the interior firebox contraption), to cone 11 at the middle and bottom door.
For a few reasons, that was the last experiment. I can't blame the other students for not wanting to make pots that were simply doomed to one poor firing after another. High-risk firings need prior parental consent. What did we learn? well, ironically, one thing we learned is that maybe the soda firing was not so great, but the salt firing wasn't perfect either. they occurred simultaneously, and fell at opposite extremes of the oxidation/ reduction. The salt firing after that wasn't perfect either, underfired. the last one was pretty good overall- these things take time! what did we learn? that the nature of the beast is tempermental. build your own kiln, expect quite a few highly imperfect firings. in the meantime, quit whining.
I will keep you posted with oily firing progress in my round kiln in portlandtown.

the next few posts will be about the other clay class, and my subsequent travels. be sure to check out Rob's blog- potteryodyssey. cheers from DC! ( I touched a 4000 year old pot today...)

weed burner

Here it is: the tonka burner.this next photo is a of the target brick inside - what you're looking at is the burner strapped to a piece of channel iron into which the oil flows, hitting the target brick, cut to a v to fit the channel- on the far left, you see a small mess of clinkers, and just to the right, the brick top surface- it's about 2x3 on top. it's actually not a target brick as much as a sponge/ wick for the oil, in order to give it more surface area from which it can burn.. soft brick

this video shows the whole setup





what you see there is two fuels in one burner- the propane out of the center orifice, and the fry oil in a quarter inch copper tube bent into a loop so that it can pass by the hot burner and then enters the back of the burner cup at the top. the oil then drips down through the porpane flame, and out of the cup onto the channel iron. Kent was trying to find that perfect flow rate at which it didn't just back up and make a mess.
the great thing is that it works at lower temperatures. the not so great thing is that only a small proportion of oil can be burned at a time.. even at the top of the firing, the oil could not be more than about a third on. and the propane was on high at that point. changing the proportion would result in the same thing we experienced before- crazy amounts of smokey reduction. but the whole shebang did get it's half of that little kiln up to temperature, near as the cones read. at the top, he experimented with treating it like a wood kiln- getting rid of the propane, giving a little oil, then off, then a few drops, then off. the pyrometer registered as one might expect, with a wave-curve of temperature increase and decrease, but overall a temperature loss with billows of smoke. I grew worried about scumming on the still-molten glazes, since he was essentially reduction cooling (great for me to see, since that's what I want to do!).
next up- possibly casting a venturi block into which this thing can fit, allowing for proper air flow that is not forced by the propane part of the burner. the theory being that the thing isn't getting enough air at those high temperatures...

meanwhile uptown

that's Kent McLaughlin
he's right up there with Tom and Bob on my list of favorite tinkerers and mad scientists

So we have now had two firings involving vegetable oil. the first was hosted by a 8ish cubic foot reduction kiln, downdraft, with two burners in the back aiming forward, flue inbetween two bag walls.. at cone 08 he replaced one propane with the rotary-style burner and it seemed to be burning all right- smokey, but improving over time. I was in and out of the area- it seemed to be going on a long time, there was plenty of activity and storytelling and at a certain point I saw that he'd gone back to two propane burners. turns out that due to the power of the burner and the tiny kiln, the fuel does not really have enough space to combust properly. not only that, but the cone of the flame exiting the burner is severely disturbed by the narrow channel through which it must pass to get into the kiln. then, once it's in there, it hits a target brick, intended to deflect the flame upward into the chamber, but placed, as it were, eight inches from the wall, fire side. so what happened is that the flame was first compressed, then smacked into a roadblock, and immediately jumped sideways into the pots right next to the flue, and out the flue. the pots in that area were subjected to a sudden and violent temperature increase which sealed the surface and then bubbled it well before normal temperatures.. and that side of the kiln was quite oxidized because the oil had no good way to combust.
round two: I load a soda kiln. crossdraft caternary, about 16 cubic feet. Kent has invented a little fry oil weed burner- 20 dollar propane torch weed burner, two inch cup. he drilled a quarter inch hole for a copper tube to be inserted through the back "wall" of the thing, so that the oil can enter above the propane flame, and burn simultaneously. so at cone 012, I replace one of the propane burners on this kiln with this new tonka burner. I also slide a split soft brick onto the floor of the burner port so that the oil can drip onto this "sponge" and have a wider surface area on which to burn. it burned dirty, belching black smoke. well, Kent's first experience with the fry oil was the same way, and he in love with carbon trap shinos was elated. but when he opened the kiln, pastey white. so somebody out there with a clue- could you weigh in? if there be soot, there be carbon dioxide and monoxide as well, correct? how could he have had a kiln in apparent nasty reduction yet have oxidized results? he was saying that it was in some way related to, essentially the length of the hydrocarbon chain- that with the heavier oil, the oxygen has a hard time breaking into the molecule-- exiting unburned.
the juggle this evening was the standard body reduction one, maintaining heat rise with definitive reduction, now with the extra ball of this wacky burner trying to smoke us out. The idea was to find a place where the oil could gradually phase in, and the propane out. but whenever we tried to make that shift, the smoke was just insane.. so then we tried to spray a little water onto the soft brick sponge as well, to assist in atomizing the oil- but whenever we did that, it was just so much hydrogen reduction too that the temperature would plummet. it was too much water- if we had a little valve by which to control it quite accurately, perhaps. But at that point, I would vote for doing the stair-step burner with the softbrick sponge.
so we dinked around with that for a good few hours, and then I made the call to get on with it, switched back to propane, and put the turbo on. within a few hours the bottom of the kiln was way hotter than the top, and now I've throttled way back to allow it to even out the top. to be precise, it is 4:43, I have my computer sitting on the damper of some other kiln and I'm listening to Aphex Twin. it's pleasant, actually. nobody around. kiln doing what I want it to do, albeit very very slowly. but writing takes time. at 5 am, my friend has a blow slot in the glass shop, and I'm going to go up there to see what he's up to. Once I'm done with the firing.

throwing coals, flogging molly

this here is a face mug. a spin off the face jug. I mentioned that we had a field trip to the Catawba valley pottery festival, and i was wondering about the historical origins of this phenomenon.. apparently they were made as grave markers for the slaves. not for moonshine. it is only in past two decades or so that they have become commercialized as kitsche. what a surprise. the kid holding this one also writes a blog- go check it out- potteryodessey. His name is Rob and he's in the upstairs clay class that is working with local clays. that class just organized a woodfiring that wrapped up this evening. the next photo is of a jar that was made by the teacher David Stemphly. sorry it's sideways. turn your head to the left and you can see that a joining point in a greenware piece opened up and continued to go as it was subjected to a whole lot of heat shock in the front chamber of their kiln. what a shame that it couldn't just freeze in that position- it died some time later.
the class did an interesting thing with the loading of the first full chamber. (this is a noborigama with a large "stackable" firebox, two chambers and a secret ante-chamber)- at about cone five, I think, one of the studio assistants, the honorable and extraordinary Josh Copas took a special shovel and scooped up a few loads of fluffy embers and ash from the pit of the firebox and threw them onto the ware in the first chamber. this would be a photo of that-
that whole chamber was loaded with the intention of being stoked not just in the regular small stoke aisle, but also in amongst the ware. "throwing" the coals was an exciting extra... especially in the somambulist early morning as I tended my own kiln long before dawn, wandering into Aarvo Part playing in the kitchen.


next post- fry oil in a soda kiln

Easter

Easter at Penland is a bit different- all the studios make eggs, there's an open invitation to the local families to join us, a potluck brunch, and then a mad free-for-all of egg hunting. They're on display for a while first- the textiles, (in this case, bead) class made felted eggs. the glass shop made some open-ended ones that they passed on to the books and wood classes who filled them with tiny letterpress messages, or woodshavings. we in clay had a deco party involving fake majolica and cheap beer. someone in metals jammed a bunch of puzzle pieces together and made a very sweet very heavy iron egg...

and then they are hidden. when the bell chimes, the "kids" get a head start, and I tell you, they are mean sometimes. One of my classmates had her hand on a glass egg, the only one she found, and some greedy little girl with a whole basketfull scratched her wrist in an attempt to wrestle it away from my friend. and I was introduced to another young lady- Sandra, who found mine- at some late hour I painted a dragon coming out of one of the ones I made- i was surprised to like how it turned out, seeing as how I rarely even draw anymore. she was psyched. here she is-

well, she's at the top of the page-

face jugs

I lay here in the fading light on a saturday marked by a cultural excursion, wondering why I can't fall into another nap, considering how little sleep I've had. It's just nonstop around here- I feel like a balloon filled nearly to capacity, stretching from inside, poked from the outside, patching little pinpricks, pliable in essence, but taut. So last night was a gallery opening of work from this year's instuctors, and the wine kept flowing long into the night. Full moon- we are laughing on porches and playing vollyball in the dark. We are talking about politics in art school, swimming in the dead sea, and bravery. In the midst of it all, Kent is firing the small kiln with waste vegetable oil! It got going late in the aftrenoon, a bit too much burner for such a small kiln but not an incredible amount of smoke... later in the night among all the mayhem, I saw that he had switched it back to two propane burners. They were finished at 1.30. maybe I'll see him at the party in the glass shop tonight- mojitos and appropriate vessels for it..
I'm sorry, I ought to have taken a few photos of the historical pots I saw today- I'm kind of aukward with a camera, and mine is too big to hide in a pocket.. we left the mountains, to the Hickory cultural center to attend a lecture by a folk historian, and check out the contemporary pots of the area. It was a craft fair of area potters, some of whom stick to the traditions of wood-ash glaze and strict function. It had a family feeling, as so with the lecture- tracing a few generations of men who "turn and burn". Light on history, warm of image. In the hall, lots of face jugs- the moonshine jugs decorated with frankly african-american features and snaggle teeth. disturbing. I am going to ask the other class' teacher about them tonight- I'll tell you about their evolution. Now it seemed every potter there and his mother was selling face jugs. And antique pots- with more character, more grit. Other than a few gems, it was not my cup of tea. oh well. me and the girls drove home in the sun, sleepy.
So life is good- great people everywhere, it's warming up- we're starting to sit outside at lunch and the conversation is shifting from "so, how's your class?" to amputees and how polar bears are breeding with brown bears. Our class is getting along well- morale is high, we'll unload the kiln tomorrow and i just did some castable repair on the soda kiln, so we'll fire that one next week.

klezmer

Klezmer music, as I understand it, is Romanian in ancestry. As with many other fascinating Appalachian cultural fusions such as the meeting of African rhythmns with the music of Irish immigrants, Klesmer came to the Blue Ridge mountains with the Gypsies who were gradually pushed west from the coast as this young country expanded.
So we all know about artisan this and that: cheese, bread, tomatoes. The remarkably young people (alleluia!!) who deeply care about these specialty fields of the so-called gourmet are, in my opinion, very clever in bridging the worlds of beauty and body nourishment. Lord only knows how many varieties of succulent tomatoes were discarded when the "need" for monocrops fell into place. I keep reading about so and so variety of wheat that is so much more hardy in, say, an alpine climate, but Monsanto is conning the farmers in India to buy GM seeds (with attendant fertilizers) from a variety that really isn't suited to the climate of the region, promising a great harvest which materializes the first year only, just long enough to hook the farmer on the magic seeds- I go on... my point is that there are places in the world where they see through the bullshit. I am lucky enough to live in one of those places, and there are many pockets of people who see the mad cycle of lies.
Again, lucky am I to be visiting in one of those places. Its fair to assume that people who value the function of art in culture would also value locally grown organic foods and historically relevant music. Klezmer, in the wikipedia, is jewish dance, wedding, and celebration songs. Tonight, I was invited to "sit in" at the practice of a group set to perform at a local dance hall (?) tomorrow night. Read: party at the house shared by the couple who teaches the upstairs clay class. Naomi Dalglish and Micheal Hunt are team teaching with David Stuempfle. I don't know quite how else to put this: Naomi and David are two of the most ernest, lovable, conscious, beautifully bonky totally collected misfits I've ever met. They are to the world of ceramics what the Portland pirate at the Pearl Bakery is to the world of bread. I pass no judgement on who works harder, I just know that these two are in deep integration with the clay they dig from the mama earth: they have devised an entire course about it. I walk upstairs to find oval plaster trays full of 15 varieties of locally dig clays, all rationed out for the initial sensory test in the hands of the classfull of potters who tend to their plasticity (or lack thereof).
Why is the party at their house? because they are as in the band as they are in the earth. Naomi plays violin and sings, Michael plays the drum, a little cymbal, probably a few other things, and there's also a cello (yes!), a clarinet, an accordion, and probably something else that I missed. they were rehearsing. their class was sitting around in love getting drunk on jameson, maker's and a few other things. we got to clapping. then there was dancing. there was a lot of stomping on the floor. we were shaking the floorboards. we formed a circle, then a spiral, and wound around the little house, through the kitchen, the bathroom, the bedroom in a 1-2-1234 stomp that I am certain will reverberate in the memory of us all. I'm telling you, I've had some maker's but still I assert, this is the stuff of artisan bread. this is it, folks. when this little house built in 1950 is stomped to the point of vibration, when it becomes a music instrument in itself- -
the last song was an atonal duet sung by Naomi and her neighbor. Haunting. in Yiddish, I think, and in so, removing any verbal associations I might have made- the melody simultaneously asking me to close my eyes and be carried away and also maintain how riveted I was by the fact of such a passionate live literally ethereal moment - in a little living room with a fireplace and couches full of drunk, dance-exhausted people, two ladies maintained eye contact throughout the entire three-minute sway of beauty. .