How to Make a Stoneware Pottery Bowl, from Beginning to End — Narrated Version

I'm going to be demonstrating how I throw, trim, glaze, and fire these one-pound medium bowls, or 453 grams. Our potters tend to use both imperial and metric measurements, so it can get a bit confusing.

As always, the clay is wedged up, weighed out, and then I individually give each little lump a small spiral wedge just to bring all the pieces together. I'm using a high-iron stoneware clay body for these simple-shaped bowls, and I like the clay to be very soft.

Once on the wheel, I begin by centering the clay. In this process, my aim is to simply squeeze the clay into the middle as best as possible, so that there are no wobbles, undulations, or pockets of air left.

Cloning it up and down like this is like giving it a final wedge but on the wheel, and it helps to align all the clay particles, which makes the clay more plastic and better for throwing. If you skip this process and leave a few undulations in the clay, they'll only come back to bite you later on because as you throw the clay, these problems just become exaggerated.

After it has been centered, I can open up the mass of clay and begin pulling the walls up. I purposefully leave the bases thick on these so there's ample clay later on so I can trim away a nice foot ring, perhaps a centimeter or a centimeter and a half, and I can judge this just by eye at this stage.

As I pull up the walls on the bowl, I'm making sure to leave them quite thick, especially the rim, as in a moment I'll begin to stretch them out, and if the rim is already too thin as I do this, it can simply split, ruining your hard work so far. 

So, as I gradually pull my clay out towards my throwing gauge's pointer, which is the rubber spike you can see protruding from the left, the thickness of the rim gradually gets finer and finer as the diameter gets wider.

I set my throwing gauge beforehand simply by throwing a bowl and measuring it with a ruler. Once it's at the correct dimensions, I just set my throwing gauge. Equally, you can use the bristles of a paintbrush, but you don't want to use anything too firm as it can damage the rim if they happen to collide.

Then, I remove a skim of clay from the underside, and then use a sponge to remove any excess slip before using a sharp metal kidney to remove much of the lines and to neaten up the interior form. Generally speaking, it's best to finish this part of the pot off as best you can during the throwing stage, as trimming the interior form later on, once leather hard, can be a pain, as all the turning simply falls straight back onto the tool and the area you're working in.

Once the rim has been shammy-leathered smooth, I undercut the piece with a wire, dry off my fingertips of slip, and then carefully pry the bowl off the wheel and set it aside on my wear board.

The throwing stage of these is quite fast and simple, so it only takes a few hours to throw 80 to 100 of them, and once they've all been thrown, I let them sit out overnight to firm up to leather hard, weather permitting, of course, as in hotter months, they would dry out too much, but at the moment, in the winter, they tend to be pretty good to go.

The very next morning, I always start trimming the firmest ones first and then work my way backward, leaving those that are still a little bit soft to do last. I want my bowls to be just on the firmer side of leather hard, enough so that if I were to squeeze the rim, it doesn't alter the whole form too much. I begin by quickly tap-centering a bowl into the middle, and then I use three soft lumps of clay just to push down around the rim, which holds it firmly in place.

To keep these lumps of clay from drying out throughout the day as I'm trimming, I occasionally just dunk them in water, which keeps them nice and soft and usable.

Then, I take my pair of calipers, which are measured to about 5.5 centimeters, and I score in a line on the foot. This line marks the outer boundary of my foot ring, and I don't bother with another interior line as I can work out this measurement just by eyeballing it.

I then proceed to my favorite part of the process, which is trimming the outside form of the bowl. Here, I'm trying to echo the interior form upon the outside, removing the excess clay that was needed to support the overhanging walls of the thrown stage and neatening up the form, making it look better and the overall pot lighter.

All of these turnings that are being removed can be recycled later on. I just soak them in water; once they've slacked down, I can put them on plaster bats, and eventually, I can wedge that clay back up, ready to be thrown into new pots.

Once the outer walls are trimmed, I begin to remove clay on the foot ring itself. This foot ring I divide into two parts by trimming in two facets, which you'll see more clearly later on.

One of these facets creates a groove, which acts as a glaze catch later on, and the other will remain clear as a nice area to stamp my maker's mark on. Once the outside walls have been trimmed and the foot ring defined, I can begin to remove clay from inside the foot ring. I push out to adhere with the corner of the turning tool to really remove as much mass as possible as quickly as possible.

You might also notice that my hands are always touching whenever I'm trimming. This makes all your motions a lot more stable, which is exactly what you want when turning pots. All my movements are controlled and stable, and I make sure that I turn through any wobbles presented to me in the bowl.

Finally, I use my handmade maker's mark to stamp what is essentially my signature onto the lower facet of the foot ring.

I then lift it away. All the bowls are then placed on their rims and are allowed to dry slowly over a couple of days until they're completely bone dry.

Once all the moisture has been removed, the bowls are ready for their first biscuit firing, where they will be taken up to approximately 960 degrees Celsius. I begin the process by bisque firing the clay overnight. This firing strengthens the clay and enhances its absorbency, essential for glazing later.

Before glazing, I must wax the foot rings. I carefully tap the center of the bowls and generously apply wax to the foot ring and two adjacent facets. This wax layer acts as a resist during glazing to prevent glaze from sticking to the foot ring, which would cause the bowls to adhere to the kiln shelves during firing.

Once waxed, I stack the bowls foot ring to foot ring, allowing them to fuse slightly due to the wax still being wet. This facilitates easy handling during glazing.

Next, I individually glaze the bowls by grasping them with tongs and dipping them into the glaze for about four to five seconds. This method ensures a neater glaze surface compared to quick removal. The wax-resisted areas are evident after glazing, particularly with the red iron oxide colored crackle glaze I use. The amount of iron oxide affects the final green color of the glaze.

After glazing, the bowls dry for a couple of days before I start cleaning them. As they dry, the glaze surface changes from tacky to powdery, making it easier to clean excess drips and tongue marks. I meticulously clean the surfaces, ensuring evenness and removing any excess glaze from the foot ring and maker's mark.

Cleaning glazed ware is tedious but crucial for the final appearance. I spend several days on this task, aiming for a smooth and even surface. The excess powder from cleaning is collected and reused by sieving it back into my glaze buckets to minimize waste.

Once the outside of the foot ring is done, I can begin sponging off the inside of the foot ring, which is all together a more tricky process simply because of how fiddly it is. Cleaning up all my glazed ware like this is one of the tasks I don't really ever look forward to, so generally speaking, I'll spend a few days doing this solidly, all day, just so I get over and done with it.

Once cleaned, the bowls are ready for the kiln. I carefully pack them into my gas kiln, ensuring no two pieces touch to avoid sticking during firing. The kiln's reduction atmosphere is controlled by adjusting the dampers, affecting the final color of the pots.

The firing process begins early in the morning, gradually increasing the temperature to prevent breakage. Reduction is initiated around 860 degrees Celsius, altering the glaze colors. The entire firing takes about nine and a half hours, requiring constant monitoring.

After the firing, the kiln is crash-cooled before I can finally open it, usually about a day and a half later. Unpacking the kiln is both nerve-wracking and rewarding, as I inspect each pot for defects. Despite some loss, the majority of pots turn out well, each displaying unique variations due to the handmade process.