Ceramics. Learning how.

Once my pressed pieces had been "bisqued" I painted them with various under-glazes and oxides, glazing some and not others or glazing parts and not others.

As can be expected some turned out well (in my opinion) and others not.

I particularly took to those with oxides which I did not glaze over as they look old and are mat. 

Those which I wiped all but the recesses clear of colour also look quite effective. 

The yellow under-glaze seems to be most effective when used on high relief or very selectively as it otherwise washes all the detail into a blob-like blur.

Here I used glazes and underglazes selectively withing each piece. It seems to be most effective with the oxides.

I broke this piece befor it was even bisque but saw some potential for putting it back together as a piece later on. It suggests something of fragments of memory to me.

In this piece the strong contour of the ceramics actually made it quite effective with very little colour. So too is the case for the lamb below it. Unfortunately the glaze ran in to the drilled holes closing it up, so in future I must take better care to keep the glaze away from the holes,

These Babushka dolls are concave with hollows at the back. I think if I am to use such subtle colours the carved or sculpted detail will have to be deeper.

Continuing my thaumatropes into ceramics I found success in this one where the oxide creates a strong enough image to see when it turns.
The Babushka doll adopts the larger outline when spun.

Matryoshka Fly pressing

I have been using Babushka/ Matryoshka doll imagery as a part of my efforts to create nostalgic heirlooms or intended heirlooms. After making a number of them in ceramics I moved on to fly pressing the outlines of them into sheet metal.

I made the fly press mold out of Masonite boards which I pierced and then stuck one on top of the other for added depth.

 The first one I made was using a piece of copper plate that I had etched using the Edinburgh etch and then gone on to flood the recesses with silver solder. I rolled it once more after that.

 I then, instead of piercing out the actual outline of the doll as was my original intention, rather sawed it into an oval shape such that the outline is perhaps less contrived. I cut out the face and a heart to give it some more character and perhaps more identification as a Babushka doll, but this might still be too vague.

 I made more test pieces using copper (etched and as above) but tried to establish what details were necessary to be identifiable.

 For one mark of a Matryoshka doll, I practiced some traditional Russian designs or motifs which are largely based on their national flower, the Chamomile.

This particular piece is to be the prototype for a platinum piece.

 With a piece of long copper plate intended to be cut into smaller pieces, I fly pressed the centre and rather turned it into a cuff.

 To add a decorative Russian reference I again designed a small section to be pierced out of the plate. This proved to be tricky as the plate was so long that at times it was deeper than the saw frame.  This is something I will keep in mind should I make more.

 As in the test pieces above and below the cuff, piercing the line across the doll's "stomach" seems to make it more identifiable compared to the  plain doll on the cuff. I also intend on giving it a silver face behind the copper, and ceramic ones for the pieces which will become pendants or brooches. (also see below)

My New Old Things

 There is this magical bookshop in Florida Road called "Ike's Books" in which I bought these five books, along with an hour or two of wholehearted engagement and intrigue with my surroundings.

The first is a catalog of  antique household objects. The pictures are delightful and in place with explanations and descriptions. 

While some objects are just more interesting looking versions of today's equivalents, some are out of use completely. The moustache guard for one is not exactly commonplace. In fact, a man with a moustache is practically a collectible now days.

My next buy is this book on the history of toys. It has some beautiful black and white photographs of old toys, and tells the story of toys over the years and the purposes they have served and rolls they have played.

This zeotrope is the successor of the Thaumatropes which I have looked into. It projects the sequence of images onto the wall whilst rotating, making a sort of stop frame animated scene.

Next is this book of 100years of collectible jewellery. While the intention of the book is to provide a price guide to the pieces at  the time of publication, I am looking at it in context of what makes a piece collectible or more precious than other jewellery. What makes it worth keeping and worth passing down and keeping in the family? This fits in with the idea of an heirloom and I had not thought of this approach to it before happening upon this book.

Many of the examples seem to be "accessories" rather than what we would normally term "jewellery" and also mostly with outdated uses.

Today one would have a purse fitted with slots for a credit card, coins, and money, and even key rings in some cases. This would then go into a larger bag to fill with the clutter of the modern world: cellphones, gate remotes, pens, cameras, aerosol deodorants, etc.

The combs we now have in our hair are often cheap offensive plastic. We buy them in packets full from chinese shops overflowing with a hundred of anything you can use and lose without worry. From these shops we do not buy anything which we intend for a future child, or for a parent in the hopes of later inheriting.

One of my favourite buys is this nursery rhyme book which honestly includes about every rhyme I grew up reciting as a child. But not only this, it also includes an unassuming illustration of each, almost as if to say "(sort of like this)" of the scenes depicted by the words of each rhyme. It then includes the music for the rhyme.
In its day I am sure the music would have been used to play with hearty elegance at the piano, but now might serve to clumsily figure out how that rhyme we once knew might have gone, when the mother, grandmother, or teacher that used to sing it for us is no longer there.

This inscription on the tea-stained-like front page is a story of it's own, and the closest we might get to sharing it is to partake in the rhymes to ensue.

Finally, I bought this.
This book ushered me towards it from across the room. I am positive that the mythical sliding ladders which swept you from one end of the bookcase to the other were made especially for moments like these.
I have to admit that when I first saw it it would not have mattered if its contents were a guide to cooking with wheat (being gluten-intolerant it would have held little purpose for me) because its proverbial wrinkles and grey hair, tattered clothes and crackling voice, had won me over. Love at first sight.
Fortunately, it also happened to be a collection of Byron's poems.
The pictures speak more than I can about this treasured find.

Time! on whose arbitrary wing
The varying hours must flag or fly,
Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring,
But drag or drive us on to die---

Hail thou! who on my birth bestowed
Those boons to all that know thee known;
Yet better I sustain thy load,
For now I bear the weight alone.
I would not one fond heart should share
The bitter moments thou hast given;
And pardon thee---since thou couldst spare
All that I loved, to peace or Heaven.
To them be joy or rest---on me
Thy future ills shall press in vain;
I nothing owe but years to thee,
A debt already paid in pain.
Yet even that pain was some relief;
It felt, but still forgot thy power:
The active agony of grief
Retards, but never counts the hour.
In joy I`ve sighed to think thy flight
Would soon subside from swift to slow;
Thy cloud could overcast the light,
But could not add a night to Woe;
For then, however drear and dark,
My soul was suited to thy sky;
One star alone shot forth a spark
To prove thee---not Eternity.
That beam hath sunk---and now thou art
A blank---a thing to count and curse
Through each dull tedious trifling part,
Which all regret, yet all rehearse.
One scene even thou canst not deform---
The limit of thy sloth or speed
When future wanderers bear the storm
Which we shall sleep too sound to heed.
And I can smile to think how weak
Thine efforts shortly shall be shown,
When all the vengeance thou canst wreak
Must fall upon---a nameless stone.

-Lord Byron, 1812