The Potter's Craft: A Practical Guide for the Studio and Workshop

by Charles Fergus Binns

If the adverse opinion be at all general amongst the critics it may be assumed that they are right and that the worker is wrong.

For example, the form of a flower is not a fit receptacle for a . It often happens that a designer, struck with the beauty of, say, a tulip, has modeled the flower in clay and made it into a candlestick. Now it is obvious that the more closely the model simulates the flower the less appropriate it is for such a purpose. If the model be heavy enough to be of use it must be far removed from its prototype. If a conventional design for a candlestick be adopted the petals of a flower may be shown in relief upon it but there must always be a solid foundation to account for the possibility of use.

A favorite form with some designers is a bird's nest made into a flower holder. In this the same criticism applies. A bird's nest is always built to let water escape. Even a mud-lined nest is not impervious and the idea is obviously inappropriate. It is important that imitation be avoided and especially the imitation of material. One often hears the remark "How beautiful, it looks just like bronze." This, of course, comes from the casual observer to whom the skill of the imitation appeals but it cannot be too strongly insisted upon that to imitate one material in another is false from every point of view. Nor is it necessary. Clay is sufficient in itself. There are so many effects possible in pottery which are not possible in any other medium that it is entirely superfluous to seek outlandish texture and color. To be sure, such things are popular but that does not make them sound in principle or true in taste.

It should not be a purpose of any craft to make pieces merely as an exhibition of skill. This is done sometimes by such versatile workers as the Japanese, but it may be laid down as a law that a production of the nature of a tour-de-force, an object which simply excites wonder at the skill of the worker, is undignified and meretricious. It is akin to the work of certain painters who delight in painting marble or velvet so as to exhibit a perfect texture only and is but one degree removed from the skill of the pavement artist who with colored chalk draws a lamb chop or a banana in such a manner that the real article seems to be lying on the ground at his feet.

The true artist, be he potter or painter, works primarily for his own satisfaction. It sometimes happens that a defect, not large enough to be obvious, is a temptation to concealment. The public will never know. But the consciousness of the existence of such a blemish will destroy the pride of achievement which should accompany every finished piece.

If the worker aims to draw any expression of opinion from the untrained observer it should be in the nature of a remark on how easy the work looks. Art will always conceal effort. Just as the poet or orator is at his best when he clothes sublime thought in simple words so the artist or craftsman glorifies his vocation when he makes use of means which appear to be within the reach of every observer.

In addition to the work of the producer there must be considered the function of the critic. Artists are commonly impatient of criticism. Tennyson voiced this sentiment when he wrote of "Irresponsible indolent reviewers," but the power of the critic is rarer than the skill of the craftsman. True, there are critics and critics. There is the man who knows what he likes and who cannot be persuaded that he likes what is false, and there is the trained critic who sees with an educated eye and dissects with an unerring word. It is not common to find critic and craftsman in one and the same person and it not infrequently happens that the persons exercising these functions are at variance with each other.

But if the critic be correct why is the craftsman wrong? In this let it be presumed that there is nothing wrong with his craft as such; that he handles his tools skilfully and has perfect control over his material. More than this, however, is necessary. The first requirement is a sense of form, a term which includes outline, proportion and structure. Often and often it is found that a designer depends upon novelty alone for acceptance. He is not altogether to blame in this for the great American public will, more often than not, ask, "Is it new?"