Sunday, October 16, 2011

Sunflowers!

Wanted to share some of my friend Don Schulte's more recent work, a new set of notecards he'll be rolling out shortly featuring sunflowers, both annual and perennial, that he's photographed in my garden in the last year or so.

My friend Catherine Dumke-Derbyshire actually "planted the seed" for this idea.  I've been feeding Don ideas for a few years now, including capturing images of Fall color, native plants, herbs, Hydrangeas and Clematis (many of which he's photographed in my garden), but this was one topic I completely missed, which is pretty ironic as I make all kinds of pottery sunflowers - they're kind of my "trademark" as an artist!

Don was able to get some very nice shots of Helianthus annuus (Annual Sunflower), as well as beautiful images of Helianthus giganteus (Giant Sunflower, upper right) and Helianthus mollis (Downy Sunflower, so called as the foliage has a velvety quality, lower left).  We're hoping next year I may be able to get some Helianthus divaricatus (Woodland Sunflower) established; we've tried two years in a row but the squirrels keep digging them out - I'll probably have to cage them!

By the way, the genus name "Helianthus" comes from the Greek for "sun" ("Helios") and "flower" ("anthos") - together, they mean Sunflower; the epithet (second part of the binomial Latin name) for the annual sunflower - "annuus" - refers to its annual habit.  The meaning of the epithet for Giant Sunflower is pretty self-evident; "mollis" means "soft", reflecting the texture of Downy Sunflower's leaves; and "divaricatus" means "spreading" or "diverging" - and is a common epithet for woodland plant species.

Don will have these and other notecards - including hopefully a new set of Autumn Wildflowers - for our Holiday Open House coming up Saturday, December 10, 10a-4p.  See you there!

All photos Don Schulte copyright.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Sunflower Masks 4 - Hair

When I first started making these pieces, as many of them self-destructed in the fabrication process as survived it.  The biggest challenge was to get the petals to come through the process unmolested.  I went through a few experiments, both in terms of fabrication and firing, to support the petals effectively through those steps, with varied results.  One goal was to not have the petals subside to the plane defining the back of the piece, so as to reduce the risk of breakage - and also retain the sense of a three-dimensionality.  What I finally did was to use kiln posts to support the petals while fabricating and through bisque firing.

The final process now consists of taking a kiln shelf the size of the kiln in which I will be bisque firing the piece (I often use a 22" shelf and fabricate two pieces on the same shelf) and line sections of it with as many pieces of newspaper as pieces I'll be fabricating.  (I use the same basic technique for all my masks, Clyties and Green People.)

I take the clay cast and trim it so it lies on a flat plan on the shelf on top of a piece of newspaper.  I find it helps if I trim one side of the piece, rest that on the shelf with the other half over the edge so I can trim the excess; I adjust the edge until I get it to rest flat on the surface.  At this point, I use a hole cutter to make a hole (for the hanging wire) on either side of the face, usually at about the level of the outer corner of each eye.  This hole may be covered by the petals during assembly but it will still be easier to re-cut it than try to place it later on.

I use the same custom-made "cookie cutters" for the petals on my Clyties as I use for my Original, Fancy and Deluxe Sunflowers.  Because it is a general anatomical fact that men's heads are bigger than women's (I could digress a whole lot on that topic but will resist the urge to do so!), I use the second and fourth largest cutters for the male faces and the third and fifth largest for the female masks - these proportions seem to work in most cases, so the petals and the face are in balance.

I score and slip the bottom edge of the mask, usually coming up a bit around the chin.  I start attaching the set of larger petals at the center top, working my way down on either side, alternating so they are arranged relatively symmetrically, ending with the last petal (or two) centered on the chin.  (It's likely in the course applying this first layer of petals that the holes will be covered - re-cut them as you apply the petals.)  I use 1/2", 1" and 2" kiln posts to support the petals, using 2" to 2-1/2" for the center top and bottom and reducing the height by 1/2" increments between, so the petals are resting on 1/2" posts at the center of each side.  Once the piece is entirely fabricated, I can pull it around on the shelf using the piece of newspaper. potentially maximizing space usage and ease for loading.

The great thing about using the posts to support the petals is that they can go right into the kiln without  the artist having to touch the piece.  Once these things have dried leather hard, they're very fragile until they come out of the bisque firing, so if I can get away without having to touch them at all once they're finished, it's really best.  I can load the shelf directly into the kiln (need good upper body for this part of the exercise), the newspaper burns away and the pieces now come out of the bisque firing with no damage about 90-95% of the time.

These "Hair" masks trace their development to a sunflower face I made of myself for my garden.  The mold had deteriorated quite a lot, to the point that a lot of the detail had diminished, and I couldn't make another one.  So I flashed back to my childhood when I always had my hair in my face and thought, why don't I just do that to "camouflage" the lack of detail?  And thus came up with another Clytie style.  In this case, like the "String Theory" Deluxe Sunflower, the key is to apply the "hair" before the petals go on, to make it look as naturalistic as possible.  Sometimes the "hair" will pull away from the face as it dries - an issue that can be prevented by brushing it with some diluted wax resist; but I rather like when that happens as it provides an additional layer of dimensionality to these pieces.




Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Complementary Colors of Fall (Part 1)

Symphyotrichum cordifolium (f/k/a Aster cordifolius)
Blue Heart-leaved Aster /Blue Wood Aster
Anyone who lives in Michigan knows that, if you don't like the weather, just wait; it'll change, for better of worse.  Hard for some folks to believe that, on September 3rd we were huddling in our homes with the air conditioning going, flashing back to the third week of July and two days later, on September 5th, it was definite "sweater weather".  But that's Michigan for you.

So, it looks like Fall really is on its way, and with it the wildflowers of the season.  This is an important time of year for some of our pollinators, as they prepare for winter in their individual ways - all of which feature important end-of-season wildflowers to either prepare them for their long migrations, as in Monarch Butterflies, or storing additional food to carry them through the winter, as in some of our native bees.  It all adds up to just one aspect of our dynamic Fall Show here in the Mitten State, and Mother Nature doesn't stint on her selections.

One of the most important groups of flowering plants for the season are our native Asters.  Many of the names of these plants have been changed to reflect relatively recent genetic studies which led to the discovery that, while our native Asters do belong the Aster Family (Asteraceae, formerly Compositeae), they were found to be sufficiently genetically distinct from the family's name species (Aster amellus, or the Michelmas Daisy) and its Old World allies, that they were assigned to other genera.  In all such cases, the second part of the plant's binomial Latin name (the "epithet") has been retained, although modified if necessary to correspond to the new genus.   (For example, our native Blue Heart-leaved or Blue Wood Aster, formerly known as "Aster cordifolius", is now known as "Symphyotrichum cordifolium".)  The good news is that many growers and print sources are retaining the plants' old names, as well their new ones, in their publications to ease us through this difficult transition.  So, just because it isn't called an Aster any more, does not mean it isn't an Aster!

Symphyotrichum laevum (f/k/a Aster laevis)
Smooth Blue Aster
Our Asters, like the rest of the family, are characterized by composite flowers consisting of "ray flowers", which are at the edge of the efflorescence and have long, narrow, showy petals, and "disk flowers" which make up the center of the flower.  The ray flowers are sterile, but act as "flags" for potential pollinators to draw them into nectar on, and pollinate, the numerous disk flowers (think about the seed head on a big sunflower, another member of the Aster Family, and you'll get the idea), which is why many pollinators spend a lot of time on a single flowerhead, nectaring on - and pollinating -  every flower, leading to very high seed production.  Many of the markings on these petals are only visible in the ultraviolet range of light - invisible to us but within an insect's visual field, acting as flags to guide them into the bounty at the flower's center. Also typical of Old World Asters, flower color tends to the cool white/blue/lavender range.

Blue Heart-leaved, or Blue Wood, Aster, (Symphyotrichum cordifolium, f/k/a Aster cordifolius) is a relatively small, conservative plant with, yes, heart-shaped basal leaves ("cordi-" means "heart-shaped).  The plant sends out graceful, arching stems up to three feet tall topped with clusters of small, delicate flowers of a very pale violet, almost white, which makes it a lovely addition to the front of the border.  True to one of its common names, this is not necessarily a plant for full sun; as an added bonus, it can handle dry shade, one of the more challenging combinations of conditions in some of our gardens.  With the light flower color, it really shines in a woodland setting.

Smooth Blue Aster (Symphyotrichum laevum, f/k/a Aster laevis) is, over time, a more massive plant that can benefit from division and sharing.  It likes a bit more sun than Blue Heart-leaved Aster but does well in drier conditions, being quite drought tolerant.  The pale violet flowers form a loose panicle at the top of graceful, three-foot stems, emerging from long, tapered, blue-gray basal foliage.  The stems are denser, as the leaves, gradually reduced in size, also clothe the flower stems.  With a neat habit, as long as it gets the sun it wants, it won't need any staking and looks lovely in a mass planting.

Symphyotrichum novae-angliae (f/k/a Aster novae-angliae)
New England Aster
New England Aster (Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, f/k/a Aster novae-angliae) is probably the best-known of our native species.  This is a tall, charismatic, relatively massive plant which works well in the back of the border or in the center of a large bed.  In masses it is truly impressive, with its relatively dark violet-to-purple flowers, especially in context with many of the yellow-flowering plants of the season; it can top out at five to six feet, and may benefit from staking as it can bend under the weight of the flowers.  If you would prefer shorter, fuller plants, however, you can cut them down by a third at the beginning of June, July and August, to encourage denser shorter growth with greater flower production, like the ever-popular Fall-blooming garden mum, also a member of Asteraceae.  Not surprisingly, this species prefers moister conditions to really thrive, forming a thick clump after a few years.  It is certainly one of the showiest species - literally covered with blooms - and pollinators - at its peak.

As a precaution, bunnies and deer love members of the Asteraceae family.  I took a late walk to my garage from my house last night, and my resident rabbit was out sampling a nearly-midnight snack.   I'm sure he has the most educated palette in all of Detroit by now, at least in terms of native plants, because he's tried everything in my garden!

All photos by Don Schulte, www.notablegreetings.com.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Sunflower Masks 3 - Seed

The first masks I made were actually a series of Medusas, again, influenced by my interest in Greek Mythology (and, probably, some transference/projection issues my therapist would rather not discuss; or maybe she would).  Anyway, I was absolutely clueless as to how to proceed once I'd had the first mold of my face done.  How to put the clay in the mold?  And did I have to prepare the mold in any way before introducing the clay?

For some reason, I thought I needed some kind of separating agent, not realizing the very porosity of the plaster mold would provide that for me.  So, in my ignorance, I sprayed Pam (yes, Pam) on the mold before I put in the clay.  This actually is a really bad idea, as it turns out, because the oil in the spray actually slows down the clay's drying process while contributing to the mold's degradation.  I have since learned that I don't need to do anything to the mold at all before I put any clay in to cast a face.

Separating agents aside, my first attempt to make a cast from a life cast was to take wads of clay and push them into the mold and try to get them to squish together.  This didn't work very well - or at least, not in the manner I had wished - as, when I pulled the clay out of the mold the nose (which was a separate piece of clay) became twisted out of plumb and, as I recall, came completely off the rest of the cast.  There were also crevasses between the individual wads of clay.

Although the piece did not look the way I had anticipated, I actually found it pretty interesting and used it for my first Medusa, adding three snake's heads to the piece and eventually raku firing it, glazing the face with Crackle White and the snakes with Copper Sand.  I later used an image of this piece for the postcard advertising my first show back in 1995.  So, although it didn't actually work as projected, the final project was pretty darned cool.

So, after much trial and error, here's how you create a good cast from a life mask mold.  Roll out a slab of clay that's about a quarter inch thick.  If you're using a slab roller with a piece of canvas, once you've rolled out the clay, pull back the canvas to loosen the clay, flip the canvas back, flip the whole thing over and pull back the other side of the canvas so the clay is not stuck to the canvas on either side.  Using the flat side of a metal kidney, gently scrap the slab's surface to remove any of the canvas pattern; regardless of how carefully you push the clay into the mold, this pattern will still be visible, whereas any marks from the kidney will not.  Cut a piece of clay of a size to fit the mold, keeping in mind the depth of the mold.  Carefully lifting the cut slab, lower it into the mold, gently forcing it into the plaster, paying particular attention to the nose, mouth, eyes and brow.  Use a sponge to work the clay into these areas.  If the clay cracks (this often happens around the edges of the nose and mouth), pull pieces from the remainder of the slab and carefully work in.  Work the clay all the way to the edges of the mold, finally cutting off the remainder (or not, depending on what you are doing).  Set the mold aside for the clay to dry somewhat.

Do not let the clay dry completely.  You want the clay to have dried enough to pull the clay cast from the mold without damaging it.  (It'll take some trial and error to get there.)  Once the clay is firm enough to work, trim it so it sits flush to a flat surface and put a hole in on either side about where the outer corners of the eyes are (to facilitate wire for hanging) and you're finally ready to assemble your piece.

This pair of masks represent the final of the first three designs I developed for my Clyties - I call it seed because I take small pieces of clay and roll them into ovoid forms to roughly mimic sunflower seeds.  I futzed around for some years before I figured out that, if I rolled out a slab of clay and used the same punch tool for every wad of clay, I could get fairly consistently-sized seeds.  (Yes, I am a genius....)  I like to arrange the seeds to emphasize facial masses - the brow, the line between nose and mouth, the curve of the chin.  I score the facial surface and brush with slip before applying the seeds.  Even so, some do come loose and I tend to make an on-the-spot decision as to whether they are still needed or not in the final composition.  Depending on where I am in the process, I may just use some vinegar slip to re-apply the loose seeds.  If the piece has already been bisque fired, a drop of glaze in the socket from where the seed came loose will remedy the problem.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Native Plants - Permutations and Combinations

I've been out in the garden working today, getting things as ready as I can for the Garden Tour tomorrow, and realized there's some pretty cool stuff going on right now, even though it's the end of the summer.  With over 100 species of native plants, as well as some traditional garden plants, some interesting combinations and permutations have evolved over the past few years.  You can see them all - and more - in the garden during the Garden Tour.

One of my favorite parts of my garden these days is in the front, near my neighbor's, Darryl Kelley, driveway.  A huge specimen of exotic (remember, "exotic" here means "not native"!) Clematis heraclifolia 'Mrs. Robert Brydon' grows there, partly through an obelisk, spilling over right to the edge of the driveway and the sidewalk.  Nearby are clumps of Echinacea purpurea (Purple Coneflower - also exotic, as it's native only to the southwestern corner of Michigan) and Lobelia syphilitica (Great Blue Lobelia).  I love how the Clematis spills through the Coneflower and Lobelia, knitting the diverse plants together into a beautiful tapestry.  I think it also helps that the texture and form of the Clematis and Echinacea leaves are very similar, so the various flowers really get to strut their stuff, from the clusters of tiny blue Clematis to the taller spikes of Blue Lobelia, punctuated by the pink daisy-like flowers of the Coneflower.  This is an excellent example of exotic and native plants can be successfully combined in any garden.

The best of the action is definitely going on in the back yard, though.  Just one vignette consists of all natives, a small section of which I was able to capture in another image this morning.  I think it's pretty interesting, as the season declines, that Mother Nature seems to dress herself in the purple of Asters (various species, now that they've decided our Asters are not actually Asters, although the plants still belong to the Asteracea family) and Ironweed (Vernonia spp.) and the yellow of Cup Plant (Silphium perfoliatum) and Rosinweed (S. integrifolium) and the Goldenrods (Solidago spp.) that are still coming along.  Pretty neat that these colors are complements on the color wheel, intensifying one another when in close juxtaposition.  Here it's Rosinweed and Ironweed (neither of which, in my opinion, are weedy at all!) topped by the delicate white flower spires of wandering of Wild Cucumber (Echinocystis lobata) - another neat combination.

I'm also liking some of the smaller stuff in the back, including Wild Petunia (Ruellia humilis) combined with some sort of exotic sedum and the foliage of Japanese Roof Iris (Iris tectorum alba).  The contrast in foliage texture and color is just great here, as the petite spires of the Wild Petunia rise above the sprawling sedum and the iris foliage (not as glaucus as German Iris (I. germanica)) contrasts in texture and color.  You can see the first of the Downy Sunflowers (Helianthus mollis) just to the back, adding its cheerful yellow to a composition otherwise dominated by cooler tones.

I had some avian visitors today - not the Baltimore Oriole (Icterus galbula) I saw a couple days ago but the Ruby-Throated Hummingbird (Archilochus colubris) was here this afternoon (the first I've seen it this season, although I'm sure it's been here before - and will hopefully return!) and a beautiful brilliantly-yellow male Gold Finch (Carduelis tristis - I wonder why it's "sad"?) was having a great time in the flowers of the Cut-leaf Coneflower (Rudbeckia laciniata).  I did get a photo of him (left) but it's pretty tough to capture a yellow bird in the middle of a bunch of yellow flowers in a bit of a breeze; I did my best!

I hope you can join us tomorrow to share in some of the wonders of my garden during this season!  Garden Tour is 10a-2p - hope to see you!




Farmbrook Designs - Custom Planters

Late last November I had the brilliant idea of hosting an Open House in my studio, inviting folks to sample the artwork of a number of local, Michigan-based artists, many of whom do work relating in some way to gardening.  One of the featured artists was my friend Chris Hopp, of Farmbrook Designs.

One of the folks who came to the Open House was my good friend Barb Radtke.  Barb, and her husband Ray, have been long-time pottery customers, having purchased a number of my flowers, which they have placed to great effect around the patio in the back of their house.  Barb and Ray eventually purchased a couple pieces from Chris, including a lantern and a fountain.

Like many artists, Chris has a series of pieces he produces on spec, including lanterns, some fountains, tables, benches, monoliths and, of course, many types of planters, small and large, including footed pieces.  Like many artists, Chris also does commission work, as he did my troughs and fountain over the past year or so.  Barb and Ray wanted two very tall, large hypertufa planters for their front porch, one quite rectilinear and the other egg-shaped and commissioned Chris to produce them.

It took Chris a while to work through the details.  I actually had the opportunity to see Chris's shop in recent trip to the Lansing area and the work that goes into making the molds for these types of pieces is significant.  Chris has to create different sections of each mold, keying them to fit together properly.  Seeing the pieces in the shop and hearing his explanation of the manner in which he made the sections gave me a fresh appreciation for the work Chris does; the guy could be an engineer, for goodness sake - and I guess he really is, when you get down to it.

These are images of the final pieces.  Apparently, Barb had the same response when she saw them as I did - WOW!  "WOW!" indeed.

Don't forget our Garden Tour, tomorrow, Saturday, August 20, 10a-2p!

Deluxe Sunflower - Pasta

As a potter, certainly one of the driving forces of my creative process is my interest in texture.  If you work with clay, you know that, unlike painting, for example, there's often nothing between your hand and the material; the tactile is key.  When I was first developing the designs for what are now my Deluxe Sunflowers several years ago, I came up with three applied textures; two of which, not surprisingly, were (and still) are extremely labor intensive.

Probably the most challenging design technically is what I call my "Pasta" texture, as it reminds me of really fine spaghetti, cut short and applied on end to the center of the sunflower.  My usual process with these pieces is to drape a slab over the mold to create the raised center for the flower and either apply the petals and then the texture (as with my Bubbles design) or apply  the texture and then the petals (as with "String Theory); in either case, the goal is to make sure there is no "gap" between the petals and where the center starts.  The decision as to the order of work has to do with the manner in which the texture is applied.  As with all the sunflowers, they are taken off the mold when sufficiently dried to remain rigid but permit final steps to allow hanging (holes made to allow wire) and/or staking (in the case of the larger pieces, a clay socket to take a copper plumber's fitting; for the smaller pieces, a hole and a socket to take a 1/4" steel stake).

With the "Pasta" design, it didn't work to apply the texture before it came off the mold.  (Believe me - I tried it that way; good thing greenware is recyclable!)  The surface is simply too delicate - made up of thousands of tiny tubes of clay - to take the weight of supporting the piece as it's flipped over and holes made and the clay socket applied.  The solution with this piece (I can get away with the usual order of work in the smaller pieces, as my large hands can span the sunflower's center and support it with the petals resting on my) was to lay the slab center and add the petals, then let it dry as usual.  When it was sufficiently dried to retain its shape (with some pressure), I remove it from the mold, add the holes and clay socket, flip it back over onto a large kiln shelf, then apply the center.  Which consists of loading my Klay Gun (which has a fine screen as the die) with numerous large coils of clay and extruding 1/2-3/4" bundles of clay and applying each bundle to the center, over and over and over again, until it is filled in.  The piece is then let dry and fired as usual.

Glazing is also a bit different with this design.  First, to make sure the extrusions are about the same height to make for a more consistent surface (and one less prone to damage later in life), I take a3" kiln post and rake it side-on across the center surface to break off any excessively tall pieces of clay.  Because of the high level of surface area of the extruded texture, the center is capable of absorbing a significant amount of water but takes forever to dry.  I'll rinse the piece off to remove and dust and minimize glaze absorption but I have to let it dry out quite a lot.  then I apply the glaze for the center, Amaco Potter's Choice Temmoku, blotting it in to get the glaze between and in all around the texture.  The glaze can run as the clay becomes saturated, so I take a long break between the first and second coats.  Once the center is completely dry after the second coat of glaze, I apply wax resist.  Then I glaze the petals.

I chose Amaco Potter's Choice Shino for this piece.  I have had a hard time getting this glaze to mix up in the bucket for me; it settles out into this immovable viscous mass in the bottom of the bucket.  What I've started to do is pull up some of that material out of the bucket, put it into a recycled yoghurt container and add some of the more fluid material.  I can more easily mix small quantities of the glaze.  I then apply by brush, dabbing rather than brushing.  The glaze gets an interesting cratered appearance with this technique, which really sets this design apart from the other pieces in the series.

Don't forget about our Garden Tour, tomorrow, Saturday, August 20, 10a-2p; see a garden bursting with native plants and clematis in bloom, as well as a selection of garden art (including this sunflower, if you want!) and locally-made refreshments.  See you there!