First firing

The first two umbrellas were fired last weekend and came out of the kiln on Monday. The temperature we had agreed on trying, due to dangers of warping and cracking, was 1240 degrees Celsius, 10-15 degrees lower than the previous tests of smaller works. As mostly the case when opening the kiln, I was slightly disappointed: the surfaces looked rougher than they were when going in the kiln, as if the porcelain was under-fired. This turned out not being the case; they are perfectly vitreous; unless being put side side by side with the same material fired to a higher temperature, one does not notice the difference. Most importantly, there was no warping and cracking in the kiln. Which is a significant and most welcome outcome, but one that was completely undermined by the fact that the surfaces showed up every imperfection, the entire history of the construction of the piece in the most unflattering way. Patch to cover the drain whole on the bottom? Was invisible before the firing, but now it clearly shows. The place where the two mold parts come together? There is a shallow but clearly visible indentation running around on the inside, looming with a dark shadow in the sparkly whiteness of the clay. The surface was sanded and polished before it went in, it came out with ghosts of every brush- and knife-mark I've ever made. Unforgiving material.
It took me a while to get over this... Reassessing my feelings during repeated visits from every staff member and fellow resident helped me to fume out my disappointment. I reasoned that I was prepared for things happening in the kiln but not for these kinds. Instead of interesting slumping and warping that would have fit into the original idea, this new development only made the work that I had labored over so much look like that it had craft issues. But come to think of it, it's good to know that bone china behaves likes this, and now the next challenge is to change the designs and maybe the process too, in order to make the work in such a way that what cannot be made invisible at least does not become the focus.

Last Sunday, we went to Antwerp (Rubens' had his studio here) to look at some paintings, eat chocolate and drink beer. Mission accomplished. Two beautiful paintings stuck in my mind, both both Madonna with the Child, from the 15th century. This one, by Fouquet, shows her as if she was made out of rubber and inflated.