Bits & pieces

While I wait for the bowl to dry, I’ve been sketching, which I’ll talk about in a moment. I’ve also been mulling over a new piece based on the 24 hour challenge #3, which I’ll also talk about in a moment.

The bowl has cracked as it dried, which is to be expected: it’s thick and dries unevenly, and the drain hole presents a further issue. The cracks are developing around the hole as the bowl shrinks away from the center.

Not to worry, my professional advisors tell me. First of all, the cracks are fillable. And even if they reappear in the firing, we’ll just plug them with slip and glaze. Failing all of that, there are several epoxies we can use post-glaze. So I’m not worried.

Here’s a picture:

So I’ve been sketching. Not assiduously mind you, but I’m working. I’ve focused on photographs of my fellow Lichtenbergians taken in the labyrinth, and specifically their faces. This is a very hard thing. This week I’ve worked on my own portrait, and I’ve finally produced one that sort of looks like me.

I’ve also produced several that have a vague resemblance to my grandmother in her dotage. I persevere.

Mostly it’s the eyes and the nose. I need to go back to my reference books I brought with me and do some actual studying on “how to do it.”

In other news, after hearing “I Dance a Clubfoot’s Waltz,” our string teacher welcomed the chance to have his students read through a completed version of it. I’ll be working on that tomorrow morning.

The problem at the moment is that I’ve grown accustomed to its little 20-second form. Taking a crowbar to it and prying it open for more development is very scary. I think it will open the same, but then take some basic fragments to build on, the pizzicato triplets, the hammered hemiolas, and the bassoon phrases, returning to the current piece as a recapitulation and coda.

I went to the library to check out a score for Shostakovich’s 8th Symphony. (I wanted his string quartets, but those apparently are still in the acquisitions department, since June of 2006.) While I was there, I thought it would be fun to find my Dance for Double Bass Duo & Marimba on the shelf. Using my trusty iPhone, I found the call number and tracked it down.

They have the score and parts, but they have also copied the score into a little booklet which is shelved separately. It was fun to see it. And then I noticed that it had been checked out to interlibrary loan back in April. Wow! One wonders who found it and ordered it? Clearly whoever it was didn’t find it interesting enough to perform, or surely they would have contacted me.

Anyway, the current piece cannot be called “Clubfoot’s Waltz,” I’m sure, so I think it’s going to be another Dance for Basson & String Quartet. I’m going to experiment giving the bassoon part to a second viola or second cello, but it will probably remain for the bassoon.

Omphalos, Day 6

The bowl was dry and firm enough to begin cutting. First I used my handy template to mark where the channels for the bricks ought to be:

If I had been thinking, I would have cut way around the circle, since I was successful in making the bowl big enough to extend beyond the edge of the granite.

Then I used my little brick template to mark the channels:

Since I’m pretty sure the granite was not cut on precisely 90° angles, I took care to mark the cardinal points on the template, and on the bowl.

Here’s the first channel cut:

I cut it a little larger than the template. It will shrink, i.e., get bigger, as the clay dries and is then fired, but that’s OK. I want the margin of error to be big enough to accommodate the reality of the bricks in the dirt. I will not have another chance to get this right. Once I get the bricks set, I can fill in any terrible gaps with caulking if I feel like it.

Finally, all four channels cut:

I saved the cutouts, maybe I’ll make little markers out of them.

The interior continues to be a puzzle. Andy’s not sure about how gold leaf would adhere to the glaze, and it would be a constant battle to keep it gilded. All the sticks and dirt would scratch it off almost immediately. I’m thinking I may smooth the exterior as well.

A reminder of where this is going:

Omphalos, Day 4

Today I smoothed the interior:

I think I’m leaving the exterior rough. You will notice that I have cleaned up the drainhole.

You will also have noticed, those of you with any history with this blog, that I have successfully distracted myself from both my 24 hour challenge and my sketching for the ELP.

Omphalos, Day 3

After fretting about it all night, I decided that I would add more height to the bowl, for several reasons. First, as I mentioned yesterday, if I wanted more than an inch of water in the bowl after I cut slots for the bricks to jut into, I needed more to cut into. Second, by adding height I would also add width. The inside measurement stood at about 20 inches; with shrinkage, it might barely fit under the granite, and I think it would be better if it were significantly set back.

Anyway, here’s the bowl after adding one coil:

You can see how shallow it was. So I added two more coils after this, and ended up with:

It’s mammoth. It’s 22 inches across, inside measurement. I’m a little afraid of it, actually. Now I let it dry and set for a couple of days before making my incisions.

The floor is still open for discussion of what the interior should look like.

Omphalos, Day 2

So first we flipped the bowl:

Here’s an interior shot:

I had developed concerns that it was not wide enough, the opening of the granite is 19 inches, and it wasn’t, but Andy showed me how to shape it and stretch it. As I worked, it opened up to at least 20 inches, which should be about right. I would feel more comfortable if I had made it larger to begin with.

Also, as I worked, the bottom flattened out quite a bit. I’m now developing concerns that it’s too shallow, in terms of cutting slots for the bricks to fit through.

Omphalos, Day 1

Today I began construction of the bowl which will form the center of the labyrinth, its omphalos.

Here’s the center as it stands now:

The bowl in the center at the moment was given to me by Ginny for Christmas. I use it for different kinds of almost rituals: washing the granite center pieces, that kind of thing. The bowl I am building will be permanently installed beneath the granite and bricks.

It will have a relatively flat bottom with a hole in it. Thus, water will drain from it (and yes, I’m planning on digging a deepish hole and filling it with gravel to serve as a drain beneath the bowl), but I can plug it to fill it if I wish. If I’d rather have fire than water, I can place a tray with candles in it–or just candles.

If I get really good, I’ll have candles beneath the water.

Anyway, I started work on that today. Andy Cunningham, Jr., the head of our art department, is a patient and effective teacher. I am using the coil method to build this thing. Here are the first three coils:

I include the water bottle for scale.

Ah, but perhaps you’ve spotted a potential gremlin: the rim of the bowl cannot be flat. There are bricks which will cut through the rim and jut out over the bowl.

And lo! I remembered that and did a rubbing of the center before I came down here:

That’s how I knew how big to make the bowl, and where to cut the channels. (The granite was supposed to have been cut at 90° angles, but my eye tells me clearly that it was not.)

Andy let me use the extruder, much to the disgust of the art minors, who were made to roll their own coils. Hence, by the end of the afternoon, I was done with the basic construction:

That sits overnight to dry a bit and firm up. Tomorrow we’ll flip it over and let gravity do the flattening of the bottom.

The floor is now open for discussion of what the inside of the bowl should look like.

24 hour challenge #11

bumped from 6/5/09

Betty sends 4-365-12:

Small birds roost secure in the rhododendron thickets
By the walk to the locked garden

That seems very pretty, although it comes from a poem called “Burning of a House,” by Thomas Henn, ll. 10-11.

[If you’re just joining us, here are the instructions for the 24 hour challenge, as well as previous efforts.]

update: I’m calling a hiatus. The weather is gorgeous, and I need to spend as much time in my back yard as I can in the two days left to me at home. I’ll get back to this piece early next week, maybe.

further update: I ran into Betty Smith on the Square this morning, and she confessed that she was disappointed in her text selection. She was hoping for something serious and dark. So out goes the little I had worked on, and I’ll start over. Serious and dark it shall be!

6/21/09, 10:25 am

OK, you’re just going to have to trust me that I’ve finished this one, only three and a half weeks after I was supposed to post it. I have an excuse: after I got to Valdosta, I simply have had no time to sit down and work on anything like this. You will have noticed that I have blogged only once since getting down here, and that was simply to announce the cancellation of “Milky Way.”

And now it seems that my FTP server is blocking me, since I’m coming from behind VSU’s overzealous firewall. I’m waiting for it to be unblocked, and then I can post the results. It’s in the same vein as “Atlantic Beats,” if that’s any help.

finally:

24 hour challenge #11, “Locked Garden,” for Betty: score [pdf], performance [mp3], bassoon [mp3]

No performance at this point; I’ll have to do that in the morning when no one else is in the dorm.

Confession

I have a confession. I have egregiously sinned against my resolution not to buy anything. Well, in my defense, it is June, not that I have been perfect since January, far from it, actually, but this purchase today was the kind of egregious purchase I had sworn off.

Actually, the table easel-cum-paint-storage was also of the egregious variety. And all the boards to paint on, which I haven’t done yet because I’ve successfully distracted myself with the 24 hour challenge, those fit into that category as well.

But the downloads of Zoe Keating‘s two albums I will defend against all comers, and those who have heard this sorceress, entheogenically or otherwise, will agree.

Anyway. Today we all went to the Renaissance Festival and you can snicker if you like. The people-watching alone was worth it. Should have worn the Utilikilt for real. There was a booth of handmade journals, and we all know how much a sucker I am for journals. I’m not at all convinced these were handmade by the guy in the booth. He had a workstation all set up, and there was leather strewn about and all the tools of the trade, but I am not such a fool as to believe these were the real deal, especially since I have bought identical journals in other locales.

So, I bought this:

I included my hand in the photo for scale, because my first photo of it gave no sense of how large it is.

And it’s large. It’s a whacking great thing. Its size was part of its allure for me, as was the paper, which seemed less fibrous than the other, slightly less expensive journal I was also drawn to. I like writing in these with my fountain pen(s), but the really fibrous paper just sucks up the ink and bleeds.

I also liked this one because the paper is bound in a single signature rather than the four or five in the other one.

You can imagine what this cost. It’s not something I’m proud of, spending that kind of money on something so completely unnecessary in my life at this point, but something told me to buy it. I have learned not to ignore these somethings.

What will I do with it? I don’t know. I already have a journal in which I recorded all my Marriage of Figaro stuff, and another for the continuing adventures of William Blake’s Inn (which I need to drag out and update). I even had one that I started for generic creative endeavors, which does not include a lot.

Those are all of the handmade variety. I have a couple of commercial ones for other purposes, including one for all my Lacuna Group work and one for my sketches for the Epic Licthenbergian Portrait.

But this one? I don’t really know.

That’s a lie. I know what I want to do with it. I want to write a book called A Perfect Life. I want to document my life in general and in particular. I have a phenomenal life, one that by any standard on this planet is enviable. I am materially comfortable, my environment is great, my family and friends are wonderful, and I am intellectually and creatively alive. That’s what I want to do. Whether I will cast it as a journal, or essay, or fiction, I don’t know.

But I do feel compelled to start telling what it was like to live in this time, in this place.

Hey, if nothing else, it will serve as a distraction to both my music and my art.

24 hour challenge #10

from Peter, 2-1025-16:

beneath that unique sun that steadily bled

That’s l. 10 from Pier Paolo Pasolini’s “A Desperate Vitality.”

[If you’re just joining us, here are the instructions for the 24 hour challenge, as well as previous efforts.]

6/4/09, 4:29 pm

24 hour challenge #10, “That Unique Sun,” for Peter: score [pdf], performance [mp3], bassoon [mp3]

In honor of Peter, I’ve included a French horn with the string quartet. However, this one is so pretentious that he may not appreciate it. It makes me laugh. Actually, as these atonal things go, the music isn’t bad. Listen to the bassoon version first, without the voice.

I could probably go back in and do more interesting things with the voice, whisper the words just below hearing/understanding, more fragments. That might make it better. Then again, it might not.