Throwing the Parts to Make a Teapot

Before I take a break for the holidays, I thought I'd spend a few days making a variety of pots, some teapots, jars, and some larger vase forms, pieces I've been eager to make, or to simply test out some new tools. We've just been hit by a snowstorm here, which, if you know anything about the UK, is a relatively rare event, so it's been a challenge even getting to the studio, let alone making pots, because even with the heating on full blast, it's still frigid inside, which means I haven't quite done as much throwing as I would have liked, but perhaps the enforced break is a good thing, as I'm really terrible at taking time off. This is the view from up on my mezzanine. It's up here I store all my packaging materials, which three times a year are all chucked down when it's time to package up the pots from a shop update. Anyway, in this video, I'll be throwing all the components needed to make the teapot, and in this weather, throwing with very hot water is a must. So hot that it almost hurts to use, but that's better than them being numb and unresponsive. Last weekend, in a small antique shop in Suffolk, I found two new pairs of calipers. The first is a really old internal measuring pair, with lovely sharp points. This is used to measure the internal diameter of any pot I make that needs a lid. The other pair measure from the outside, which is what I use to measure the lids. Both of these seem really tight, and ultimately that's what I'm looking for when I search for new pairs of calipers, as you want them to be able to hold the measurement you set them at. Next to my wheel, I also place a large bucket of water on a stool. The rim of this has a really sharp edge, and I can use it to scrape the slip off my hands during the throwing process, and whilst it might not be totally necessary when throwing individual components like that I'll be making for the teapot, I'm just in the habit of using it now, and I've found that everything is just a bit more neat and tidy since. As for the weighed out lumps of clay for the different components, I'll be using about a pound and a half for the body, which is 680 grams, and then for the lid I'm using about 7 ounces, which is just about 200 grams, and then for the spouts I've just cut off an arbitrary amount, as I'll be throwing them off the hump, which means I don't need to weigh out individual small lumps of clay for them. Whenever I'm making teapots, I always start by throwing the body, then a matching lid, and then the spouts, which I always make a few extra of, just so I have some options when it comes to assembling the teapots. I begin by toning the clay up and down numerous times, trying my best to scrape the slip and water off the wheel head and back onto the lump of clay, that way I don't use too much water when I throw. Throughout the centering process, if you feel like the lump of clay beneath your hands is becoming dry, then it simply needs more water or slip added to it. In a way, slip does work better as it clings to the pot, keeping it hydrated for longer, although at times it can also make things feel a bit messy. I then plunge my index finger and thumb into the centre of the lump of clay, and I open it out to form the base. I want the very bottom of the piece to be about 3 or 4 mm thick, and once I'm happy with the internal shape, the process of pulling the walls up can begin. With my first lift, I'm not trying to get loads of height, rather I'm just thinning out what was a very thick doughnut of clay, so I pull it up into the cone-like shape, distributing the clay evenly, and keeping the opening nice and narrow, which, if you're making cylindrical shapes, is something you should aim to do, as it's more straightforward to stretch a narrow opening outward as opposed to compressing a wide opening into a more narrow one, and this is especially the case as the pot gets taller and the walls get thinner. I squeeze a thicker expanse of clay near the base much harder for the second pull, and focus on obtaining height whilst leaving enough clay in the rim to throw a gallery from, which is the section of the pot which holds the lid, and once again, after that pull, I'll collar the cylinder in to keep the opening narrow. I dig the side of my knuckle into the base of the pot, and just above it, I use the tips of my fingers from the inside to push out and form a lump. I then use my knuckle in such a way to lift up this bump of thicker clay and pull it upwards, forcing all of it through a narrow gap between my knuckle on the outside and my fingers on the inside, and gradually the walls get thinner and taller, although I am purposefully leaving the waist of this pot to be a bit thick, as during the next few steps, I'll be stretching the wall outward, which means if it was already paper thin at this point, there'd be no possible way I could belly the form out, as the wall would just collapse as I throw the more distinct angles into the form of this teapot, which, now the height is almost there, I can begin to throw. I'm going for a really simple angular shape which comes to a sharp point in the waist, and for this part, as I'm shaping, I'm pressing out with more pressure whilst my fingers on the outside simply brace and guide what the fingers are doing on the inside. Once the approximate shape is there, I can begin running through the finishing off procedures, which always starts with the removal of the excess water from inside the teapot. Next, I use a very old blunted turning tool to skim away the skirt of clay from the base of the teapot. I then take a sharp metal kidney and very lightly rest it on the outside surface, I'm definitely not digging it into the clay. Instead, with my fingers on the inside, I'm pushing out against that metal edge, running them up and down to remove as much of that sticky slip as I possibly can, a process that really defines the shape of the pot. And now I can throw the gallery in the rim, so I wet it slightly and then I press in horizontally with my index finger, a motion that must be done with enough water, otherwise my index finger that applies all that pressure will stick to the clay, and most likely the whole thing will be dragged off shape, which you can see in this quick demonstration. This could be fixed, but it will always show echoes of this moment, be it a slight wobble in the wall, or a severe undulation in the rim. So normally, if things like this happen, I simply scrap the pot, wedge the clay up again, and throw it into a new pot, a successful one this time. Once the gallery's been thrown, I use a sharp kidney to clean up the clay's surface, and then soften the rim with a chamois leather, all before taking my new pair of calipers and measuring the internal diameter of the opening of this teapot. This way, I'll be able to throw a lid that fits really well. In many ways, at this point, I don't mind if the lid is thrown a bit bigger than need be, as I can always trim it down to fit perfectly, but if you throw it too small, there's really very little you can do to fix it. I then slide a wire underneath, and then with dry hands and a slip-free surface of the pot, I can carefully clasp my hands around it and lift it away. With the body thrown, it's now the turn of the lid, which is altogether a much faster process. But first, I need to set my other pair of calipers, and all I need do is adjust them so the internal diameter slots neatly into my pair that measures the outside diameter, which can be quite tricky when they're really stiff, but ultimately that's a good thing, as it means if I accidentally knock my pair of calipers, or even drop them on the floor, I won't lose this important measurement. Soft clay helps for these, because they have such little vertical height. Soft clay means they can be centred really quickly and shaped easily, although if I'm only making one teapot, that's not the end of the world. But say I have a batch of 60 jars to make lids for, I'll seek out some really soft clay. They're centred into a low disc shape, before being opened up to the wide internal base, which I run my thumb back and forth over numerous times to compress it. I then separate the thick circumference of clay, in much the same way as I form the gallery of the teapot. In doing so, I create the vertical flange, this is the part that slots inside the teapot, and the horizontal flange, this is the part that rests on top of the teapot. I then take my set pair of calipers and check the width, and in this case it was more or less perfect, so I could proceed to scraping the slip off all of the separate parts. Doing this leaves a surface that's slightly drier, which should help the lid, or any other component this is done to, dry out more quickly, as compared to if you left it covered in wet slip, in which case it could take much longer to dry. So my outer pair of calipers measures the outside, and the internal pair measures the inside. They measure the same point, but from different directions, and sometimes if I want a lid that's just slightly bigger, I can just push it out ever so slightly, like so. And by doing this, by even just a millimetre or two, it means I'll have material which I'll have to trim back, so the lid fits the teapot perfectly. I then dry my hands off, carefully position them all the way around the lid, spin the wheel, and lift away. And finally, it's time to throw some spouts. I use a large mass of clay for this, but when it comes to making an individual spout, I'll only throw the very top portion of this hump, and what remains underneath it, thereafter, can simply be coned up, and thrown into the next, and then the next, and the next, depending on how many spouts you need to make. And if I'm throwing lots of teapots, I'll simply use a much larger lump of clay. And once again, I'm using stuff that's really quite soft. Spouts are simple, after all, and maybe the hardest thing about throwing them is the fact that they require so much collaring in. This means, if you're using firm clay, if any undulation does arise, which is quite a common side effect of collaring the clay in, then it can be quite difficult to deal with. Whereas if the clay is really soft like this, it's very easy to fix. So, here's my hump of clay. I'll only be throwing the very top portion of it, which I can section off, so I have a more clear understanding of which part I'm going to throw. As for the tools I use, I keep it very simple. I use the wooden handle of a potter's needle to insert into the spout and throw against. And I also use a simple curved metal kidney, which has a good profile that I can press into the side of the spout to make it the shape I want. And so I push my fingers in, and open it up slightly. The thick expanse of clay on the inside is then pushed up against one of my fingers, which I leave partly inside. The digit inside acts like a ramp, almost, and by keeping it held underneath it, not only does it support the clay and the spout's overhanging wall, but I can literally slide the clay up against my finger to easily gain more height out of it, and to collar it in as I have a target to follow. Once the shape is roughly there, I can begin to collar it in more, my aim being to make a more curvaceous shape. But as soon as the opening becomes too narrow for one of my fingers, I'll start using the wooden dowel to do more or less the exact same job. And quite importantly, before I use it, I always dunk the wooden end in my bucket of water, as otherwise the dry wood will want to stick to the wet clay. And from this point, I can collar it in to a more narrow opening, and as the sides of the wooden dowel are nice and smooth, it leaves a nice texture on the inside of the spout. I then take my sharp edged metal kidney, and push it into the soft stonework. It helps having a tool like this when you make spouts, especially when you're making them repetitively, for teapots that all need to be the same, as the curve of this tool acts like a guide almost, and as long as you remember which section of the tool goes where, it can be quite easy to make spouts which look more or less identical. But that isn't my goal for this throwing session, as I'm making just an individual teapot. I'll throw three different spouts for varying shape and size. I can picture in my mind the shape I want, but I always find it helps to have a few options when the time actually comes. I can then slice the spout off, and then delicately lift it away from the groove I made for myself underneath. I'll also be removing quite a lot of the lower half of this spout, so it doesn't matter if I'm a little bit heavy-handed as I remove it. If the spout feels as if it's a bit thick and sturdy too, I sometimes run the tool down it like this, removing a good millimeter or two from the outside as I do, making for a spout that's just a bit more delicate. And then I do one last pass over the surface to make the texture as smooth and clean as possible. I even very carefully use a chamois leather just to soften the lip if it looks a bit rugged. I then loop a wire through it, press my fingers into the groove, and then lift it away. If I have enough clay left over, I usually just throw it into some arbitrary shape, a bowl or a jar or a bottle. It doesn't matter really, I just prefer to use it up, although sometimes by this point the clay is really sodden and wet. And that's it for the teapot components. I'll now let these parts all dry out overnight, especially the lid and the jar, which I want to be more or less completely leather hard. They also need to dry out at a similar rate, as I don't want one part to be a bit softer or harder than the other, as it means they'll shrink at a different rate, and you can trim a lid that fits really well, but then as it dries it becomes looser, or the opposite can be true. On the other hand, the spouts I'll dry slower, as it makes attaching them to the teapot much easier if the lower half of them is still quite soft. Lastly, there's the measuring tools you use, and it just helps so much if you have a really sturdy pair which hold firmly in whichever position they're set in. I have loads of calipers at this point, including some double-ended versions, which mean you only need to measure once, as the opposite end of the calipers will have the opposite measurement. But I can't really control myself when I see a nice pair of antique metal tools that cost practically nothing. These were just a few pounds each. They're old, and I can see that they've been used extensively in the past, and I simply like the idea that they continue being used, even if it is probably for an entirely different craft. Anyway, in next week's video I'll show you how I assemble these pieces and pull the handle to make the actual teapot. And until then, thanks so much for watching, and I'll see you next week.