Ancient Beginnings

So, I just finished my second class period of Independent Studies in Clay, and my first attempt at making something this semester. The past week or so has been a lesson in the difficulties of research and the importance of tools and materials. In envisioning this course, I had expected somehow to jump into recreating all sorts of cool ancient pottery: but then, I was reminded of technical issues like local clay-based techniques and old technology I haven't got access to, like hand-operated wheels.

Despite these issues, I have plowed on - with a slight attitude adjustment. My goal in the coming weeks is to do my best to replicate some ancient pottery techniques from across the world, not for some grand or important experiment, but to gain an appreciation for ancient knowledge and for those who try to understand or use it. Plus it just sounds super fun :~)

And boy, was today ever a success! I'll have to bring my camera on future days to document some of the steps - and some of the issues. I've decided to begin the semester with a small pot styled after the early Jomon period in Japan, which is one of the oldest pottery traditions yet found in the world. This means the pot will be of low-fire clay, round-bottomed, made using a coil technique, and eventually decorated with raised bands and/or rope implants.

I say "will be" because, well, my efforts today ended up in the scrap bin. But I'm okay with that, because I had a truly awesome time wrestling with the clay and encountering questions. I've never made a coiled pot before, and as my reference book says, few specifics have been published about Jomon technique. After lots of trial, error, and laughing at myself, I emerged from the pottery studio with a few main thoughts in mind:

-Coiling and blending the bottom of the pot seems to give a pretty solid base, though not necessarily a circular one! I'm sure a more experienced artist than I could do better; however, for interests' sake I might try to look up other methods. With reasonably wet clay, though, I found I could create a bottom that was cohesive enough to show no evidence of the individual coils when I sliced it apart "just to see."

-At first reading that the pots were rounded on the bottom made me raise an eyebrow: "wouldn't that be harder than making a flat bottom?" I thought. The answer is no. After an hour of melding my walls to the bottom of my pot in increasingly desperate ways, I found I did indeed have a rounded edge to the bottom of my pot. Perhaps early Jomon potters were dealing with the same issues and decided to make do?

-My library book on pottery traditions mentioned particularly the thin walls on early Jomon pots. So I figured my coils better be thin as well. Wrong again! The process of blending the coils together naturally thinned out my already-skinny coils. Next time I will use thicker coils and see if that makes it easier. The difficulty smoothing things together may also be a product of my clay/my extended handling of the clay.

-The process of making a pot this way is long. Part of that emphasis is my modern bias talking. Still, though, I wonder how many pots an individual would really have made, especially in a non-agricultural society. The process also would really be helped along by a good flat rock surface and perhaps some rock scrapers, as well as a source of water ready at hand. Tough stuff to identify at a site, I'm sure, but it'd be interesting to know if those ever turn up.

Mostly, as mentioned before, I emerged from class today filled with exciting (to me, at least!) questions. Since I've been watching old Psych lately, I began fantasizing about being an archaeological "psychic," making connections based on knowledge of ancient methods and materials rather than on facial clues and drug trivia. Yeah, yeah, pretty silly I know :~) But by exploring ancient methods of making things, I feel like we can get just one step closer to peeking, however briefly, into ancient peoples' minds.