Staying trim
Jan. 20th, 2020 09:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
offcntrIt's the part that never gets in the pottery videos, not even mine. It's not cool, not sexy, but oh-so-necessary: trimming the bottom of the pot.
I don't do it on everything. Mugs don't get trimmed, nor glasses and tumblers. I also make my plates no-trim, and my bake ware. Bowls though, really need that extra bit of finishing. A chance to lose a little weight off the bottom, get a little lift.
It happens when the pot is leather-hard, halfway to dry. I flip the pot over, recenter it on the wheel, anchor it down. Then, with a sharp tool and a fairly fast wheel, I trim away around the outside, cut down a little on the inside, to form a nice foot ring. Smooth with rubber ribs, stamp with my maker's mark, remove to the ware board. And repeat. Catch as many of the trimmings on the wheel as possible, gather them into the recycle bucket to slake down, dry out, run through the pug mill later. Any that hit the floor go in the trash, as they may be contaminated with dirt, gravel or plaster, none of which are good things to find in your clay body.
Traditionally, the potter puts the bowl down an a clean, damp wheel head, starts spinning, and taps the pot with the heel of the hand, more or less at random, until it shifts to center. Then it's stop the wheel, anchor it down with three lumps of clay, and start trimming.
I was always pants at re-centering. As often as not, I'd knock the pot right off the wheel head, and even when I didn't, I took forever to get it right. So I was fascinated back in 1985 when, at a workshop in Tuscarora, Nevada, I discovered the Giffin Grip.
They had a first generation model, particle board and formica, spiral grooves cut with a router. The plate snapped to the wheel head, and twisting the top made three little hands move inward to center and grip the pot. It wasn't perfect--if the pot was too soft, it would deform; too hard and it might split. But it was fast and efficient, two things budding a production potter was learning to value, and I saved up my money to order my own once I got home.
They'd updated the design by then, using injection molded plastic, water proof and wear resistant. I finally wore mine out this winter, replaced it with the one I won from Clay Fest for Best of Show back in 2005.
I don't do it on everything. Mugs don't get trimmed, nor glasses and tumblers. I also make my plates no-trim, and my bake ware. Bowls though, really need that extra bit of finishing. A chance to lose a little weight off the bottom, get a little lift.
It happens when the pot is leather-hard, halfway to dry. I flip the pot over, recenter it on the wheel, anchor it down. Then, with a sharp tool and a fairly fast wheel, I trim away around the outside, cut down a little on the inside, to form a nice foot ring. Smooth with rubber ribs, stamp with my maker's mark, remove to the ware board. And repeat. Catch as many of the trimmings on the wheel as possible, gather them into the recycle bucket to slake down, dry out, run through the pug mill later. Any that hit the floor go in the trash, as they may be contaminated with dirt, gravel or plaster, none of which are good things to find in your clay body.
Traditionally, the potter puts the bowl down an a clean, damp wheel head, starts spinning, and taps the pot with the heel of the hand, more or less at random, until it shifts to center. Then it's stop the wheel, anchor it down with three lumps of clay, and start trimming.
I was always pants at re-centering. As often as not, I'd knock the pot right off the wheel head, and even when I didn't, I took forever to get it right. So I was fascinated back in 1985 when, at a workshop in Tuscarora, Nevada, I discovered the Giffin Grip.
They had a first generation model, particle board and formica, spiral grooves cut with a router. The plate snapped to the wheel head, and twisting the top made three little hands move inward to center and grip the pot. It wasn't perfect--if the pot was too soft, it would deform; too hard and it might split. But it was fast and efficient, two things budding a production potter was learning to value, and I saved up my money to order my own once I got home.
They'd updated the design by then, using injection molded plastic, water proof and wear resistant. I finally wore mine out this winter, replaced it with the one I won from Clay Fest for Best of Show back in 2005.