The Story of Porcelain

by Sara Ware Bassett

"The list sounds like a long one," Mr. Marwood went on smiling into the boy's troubled eyes, "but when you understand the processes you will find that it is all much simpler than it seems. Before we begin to investigate any of these methods, however, I want to say just a word about the moulds over which, or inside of which, the ware is sometimes shaped; for moulds are a very important feature both of pottery and porcelain-making."

"What are the moulds made of?" was Theo's first question.

"I am glad you asked, for that is the vital matter," Mr. Marwood replied. "Many materials have been tried with varying degrees of success—plaster-of-Paris, alabaster, steel, gun-metal, and brass. Of course what is necessary is a strong, firm, absorbent material. Clay moulds break too easily, and also become saturated with water and lose their shape; metal moulds, on the other hand, while most useful in making wares decorated with fine, raised designs such as the Wedgwood figures, fail to seep up the superfluous water. Therefore plaster-of-Paris has proved the best medium for the purpose. Not only does it retain its form, but it also takes up a certain proportion of the moisture from the clay that is moulded inside or outside it."

"I understand," Theo nodded.

The elevator stopped and they stepped out into a vast, well-lighted room, gray with clay-dust and thronging with powdery workers. At benches, before revolving wheels, and beside turning-lathes toiled busy workmen with white, clay-coated hands.

"We will start our program with the potter's wheel, the oldest of pottery modeling devices," said Mr. Marwood. "It is a very simple contrivance, you see—just a round piece of board set horizontally on top of a revolving spindle. As the disc turns the potter shapes the clay with his fingers, building it up to the desired height and moulding it to conform to the profile, or pattern, he keeps beside him. This profile is of wood or steel, and gives the elevation of the object in actual size. As he works the potter constantly consults and measures it. Pieces made in this fashion are known as thrown ware. All the finest potteries, as well as some of the most expensive porcelains, are made in this way. However, it is a costly process and rather slow, for a piece thus shaped must have the entire attention of a single worker. If we were to make all our china by this method I do not know where we should bring up. It would take us a decade, and cost us a great deal of money. But by this means the most artistic results are obtained. It was in this fashion that the Greeks modeled their matchless vases, and you can now see why no two of them were alike. Each potter put his soul into the thing he was making, and as he had endless time at his command he worked with utmost care to perfect his product. This was all very well in a warm country where life was simple; demands few; and where there was not the tension of present day living. It was a matter of no concern if the artist made only a few such vases in a lifetime. He had the patronage of the rich, and was sure of being taken care of. But to-day, alas, we face a different problem.

"IT IS A COSTLY PROCESS, AND RATHER SLOW"

"We surely do," agreed Theo.

"Therefore, here in America only a small proportion of this thrown ware is made. Such art potteries as the Roferno and Sicardo wares, seen chiefly in private collections and museums, are thrown; also some of the Grueby, Rookwood, and Cincinnati varieties—all very beautiful American potteries. In addition to these exquisite home products The Dedham and Paul Revere potteries made near Boston should be mentioned, for although of less costly type they are doing much to set a standard of perfection of form, choiceness of coloring, and fitness of design. All these wares are distinct contributions to the art world. Of course certain wares are made by a modification of this throwing process. Large pieces, for example, frequently have to be thrown in several parts, fastened together, and afterward finished. Some pieces the thrower shapes over a plaster-of-Paris mould; and some he shapes inside the mould, reversing the process and pressing the clay against its confining surface. The danger in thrown ware comes from an uneven pressure on the clay resulting in a lack of solidity; the pieces are not always equally firm at all points and in consequence sometimes crack.