Museo Regionale della Ceramica, Deruta, Italia
After a quick coffee stop we headed to the museum of regional ceramics in Deruta.
There were a vast array of pots here, on many levels. The museum felt a bit like a labyrinth, with all sorts of pots on display. My favorites, and the ones I mostly pictured, were the older pots. Some of the designs are so cartoonish and ridiculous.
On to the ceramica!
They also had some more modern pots:
After Deruta we headed to Assissi where they are mad about religion rather than pots.
Here are a couple of sample pics from the gift shop of one of the churches.
It was time to clean the statues too, something I didn't realise went on at all. No pictures allowed of course.
And finally, as a counterpoint to the pots and the relics, here is a meaty street shop window.
There were a vast array of pots here, on many levels. The museum felt a bit like a labyrinth, with all sorts of pots on display. My favorites, and the ones I mostly pictured, were the older pots. Some of the designs are so cartoonish and ridiculous.
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| Outside the cafe: a serious game of cards on a serious table top. |
On to the ceramica!
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| Blank dish, same shape as the decorated on above. |
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| Another blank on display. |
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| What a nose! |
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| There are no words. What was she thinking? What was the potter thinking? |
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| Umbria, 14th Century. |
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| Yes! |
They also had some more modern pots:
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Here are a couple of sample pics from the gift shop of one of the churches.
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| Tasteful. |
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| Four hundred an ten euros! |
And finally, as a counterpoint to the pots and the relics, here is a meaty street shop window.
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| Lots of wild hog products. |
Day dreaming around Deruta, Italia
One day, during the majolica course at La Meridiana, we went on a trip to Deruta: about two hours south-east of Certaldo. This town is all about majolica. They have been beavering away at it since the early middle ages. I had never seen anything like it: around every corner and on every wall there seemed to be ceramics.
Our first stop was at a traditional workshop where they still produce Deruta ceramics, as they have for hundreds of years. This was the workshop of Antonio Margaritelli. Only he and an assistant work there now. He told us sadly that his sons were not interested in learning the art and was worried that his knowledge would be lost. This is happening to a certain extent with the Murano Glass Blowers too, with it being a close-knit family business with the latest generation growing away from the craft.
You can see how enthused Antonio is by the pots. Unfortunately he spoke very fast, and in Italian, so without our our wonderful guide Francesca (Pietro Madelena's daughter) to translate, we would have been stuck. He described the whole process, including the final part of their firing, where they introduce small amounts of wood to bring out the metallic lustre finishes on some of the work. I had never heard of this in a gas kiln before.
I actually failed to take any pictures of the front of their pots, but below are lots which we saw while we walked dreamily around the streets of Deruta.
My next post will be of pots at the Regional Museum of Ceramics in Deruta.
Our first stop was at a traditional workshop where they still produce Deruta ceramics, as they have for hundreds of years. This was the workshop of Antonio Margaritelli. Only he and an assistant work there now. He told us sadly that his sons were not interested in learning the art and was worried that his knowledge would be lost. This is happening to a certain extent with the Murano Glass Blowers too, with it being a close-knit family business with the latest generation growing away from the craft.
You can see how enthused Antonio is by the pots. Unfortunately he spoke very fast, and in Italian, so without our our wonderful guide Francesca (Pietro Madelena's daughter) to translate, we would have been stuck. He described the whole process, including the final part of their firing, where they introduce small amounts of wood to bring out the metallic lustre finishes on some of the work. I had never heard of this in a gas kiln before.
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| Antonio enthusing by his kiln. |
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| Look at the spout on that jug! |
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| This is a teapot. |
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| This is how a teapot pours. See. |
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| This was Antonio's assistant. He admitted she did most of his best work. I have never seen a steadier hand. |
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| Antonio showed us how to take a normal cheap paint brush and slice it with a pair of scissors to make it into a very fine brush fit for his work. |
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| Organised chaos: tools, paints, brushes, half finished work etc. |
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| The back of one of their pieces (they use this traditional pattern on the back of most of the work). |
I actually failed to take any pictures of the front of their pots, but below are lots which we saw while we walked dreamily around the streets of Deruta.
My next post will be of pots at the Regional Museum of Ceramics in Deruta.
Walking around the town of Montelupo on market day
Pots are everywhere in this town. You can't get away from them even if you wanted to; it seems like every shop boasts at least a few. As we were walking around, we saw potters on the street demonstrating techniques and getting on with their work. One man, whom I failed to photograph, was throwing side on to his wheel. Pietro told me this was the way it was always done and is much better for your back. It didn't look very comfortable but who knows, maybe I should try it sometime.
First up then, some traditional cookware. I could not get up close to these. They were behind bars.
The next few were taken in a little gallery off on of the main streets.
Back on main street. Time for a snack...
Majolica...
The two pictures here were taken through a fancy shop window.
I think it is interesting to see the contrast of the older pots in the museums to the contemporary ones. Not everyone in Montelupo is still making majolica! The bulbous one in the left picture appeals to me. The wavy lines down it accentuate the form nicely, but to my eye the gold is a little too much.
I appreciate all comments and would be interested to see what people think about these pots in comparison to the more traditional ones, or on my posts in general
First up then, some traditional cookware. I could not get up close to these. They were behind bars.
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| I really like the side handle on the casserole dish to the right. |
The next few were taken in a little gallery off on of the main streets.
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| The surface of these was so temptingly shiny, you just wanted to reach out and touch them. |
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| Unsure who the artist of these pieces was, I should have noted it down. |
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| Not so sure about the sculpture but I love the wall behind. |
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| Here it is a little closer. |
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| This man knew his cured meats. I had a sample of everything he had to offer! |
Majolica...
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| This lady was decorating a majolica plate in the traditional way, right there on the pavement. |
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| Me looking very awkward, posing with a pot that appealed. |
I think it is interesting to see the contrast of the older pots in the museums to the contemporary ones. Not everyone in Montelupo is still making majolica! The bulbous one in the left picture appeals to me. The wavy lines down it accentuate the form nicely, but to my eye the gold is a little too much.
I appreciate all comments and would be interested to see what people think about these pots in comparison to the more traditional ones, or on my posts in general
Pot Pictures from the Etruscan Museum in Volterra, Italy
I visited the Etruscan Museum in Volterra on a particularly warm summer's day. The afternoon sun seeped in and seemed to steam the sculptures. I made the mistake of wearing trousers and a shirt, so I was roasting. The collection is in an old building with four floors, and as I climbed up, the atmosphere only grew hotter.
Volterra is famous for its alabaster carvings, boasting a number of still-working studios where you can see the work taking place. As you might imagine, the museum has a large collection of alabaster stone cravings... mostly depicting religious scenes or men with spears, or grand war horses. The technical skill you can see in the carvings is amazing but they are not to my taste (at all). Once you get past these, though, there is a fantastic range of ceramics.
I was blown away by the forms of the pots... not just the great range in shapes and sizes but the grace of them. They all have a something in common: a graceful aesthetic sense. I took lots of pictures and then (when the rest of my party went shopping around the town), spent a couple of hours surrounded by swallows, roses and flies, perched on a bench in the garden at the back of the museum, sketching pots. I have never been very good at sketching and felt flushes of embarrassment as I failed to translate the forms to paper.
I need to practice, clearly! Unbeknownst to me, engrossed as I was in this activity, the Museum closed. No one had come out to announce it or anything. I tried the doors but found that I was locked outside, in the back garden.
The only escape was over an old peeling whitewashed wall. The garden was higher up than the street level, so I could look over the wall. The drop must have been 9/10 feet. The air was cooler now, with the sun setting. I wondered if should stay, sleep out on the bench. But no, I had to go and meet the others for dinner. I waited until no one was passing and climbed up. The view of the garden was so nice I had to take a picture before jumping off. And then. Snap. A clean landing. I was out, and without any breakages!
So there you are, that was my Etruscan adventure. Now here are the pots...
They had some lovely metal work too, pictured below.
The sculpture below is one of the museum's crowning jewels. As soon as I saw it I thought it was a Giacometti, but it actually far older, dating back to the 3rd century BC.
Right, I'm hungry. Time for dinner!
Volterra is famous for its alabaster carvings, boasting a number of still-working studios where you can see the work taking place. As you might imagine, the museum has a large collection of alabaster stone cravings... mostly depicting religious scenes or men with spears, or grand war horses. The technical skill you can see in the carvings is amazing but they are not to my taste (at all). Once you get past these, though, there is a fantastic range of ceramics.
I was blown away by the forms of the pots... not just the great range in shapes and sizes but the grace of them. They all have a something in common: a graceful aesthetic sense. I took lots of pictures and then (when the rest of my party went shopping around the town), spent a couple of hours surrounded by swallows, roses and flies, perched on a bench in the garden at the back of the museum, sketching pots. I have never been very good at sketching and felt flushes of embarrassment as I failed to translate the forms to paper.
I need to practice, clearly! Unbeknownst to me, engrossed as I was in this activity, the Museum closed. No one had come out to announce it or anything. I tried the doors but found that I was locked outside, in the back garden.
The only escape was over an old peeling whitewashed wall. The garden was higher up than the street level, so I could look over the wall. The drop must have been 9/10 feet. The air was cooler now, with the sun setting. I wondered if should stay, sleep out on the bench. But no, I had to go and meet the others for dinner. I waited until no one was passing and climbed up. The view of the garden was so nice I had to take a picture before jumping off. And then. Snap. A clean landing. I was out, and without any breakages!
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| View of the garden from atop the wall. |
So there you are, that was my Etruscan adventure. Now here are the pots...
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| Love this one, it reminded me of Egyptian pottery. |
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| This wall of pots was just astounding. |
They had some lovely metal work too, pictured below.
The sculpture below is one of the museum's crowning jewels. As soon as I saw it I thought it was a Giacometti, but it actually far older, dating back to the 3rd century BC.
Here are the information panels about the bronze boy:
Right, I'm hungry. Time for dinner!
Pot Pictures from the Montelupo Museum in Tuscany.
What I found was that some of the pots were very gaudy, but many were not. Many were actually very charming, striking me as similar to early slipware pottery in England: the copper green colour on some of them in particular. You can see that they were thrown quickly in a lot of cases and were by no means a polished product. I love the muddier examples, the ones where the background majolica glaze is thin and you can see that lovely terraforte clay through it. As many of them are quite old you see the wear and tear on them as they have been used as functional items. Especially the jugs, I love some of the jugs. The shape of the spout really appeals to me, as does the full belly... not so sure about the fluted bases on some of them though.
Many of them are quite amusing too: caricatures of people and animals. It was a touch tricky to photograph them due to the shiny-ness of the cases so you will have to excuse the glare on some of them. They are in no particular order.
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| I tried to emulate this snail on a pot myself. |
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| I love the energy of this plate, the lines have so much energy and the soft copper green. Mmm, i could eat off that. |
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| This one too. |
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| Jiggled bowls... SLIPWARE! |
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| This one is much more modern; the white really gleams. This is what you see in most shops around Tuscany (especially in Montelupo). |
Not all of the pots at the museum were traditional however. The sculpture below is in the contemporary part of the museum and represents the throw-away Indian chai cups. It was done by Terry Davies who I got the chance to meet. He is a lovely chap and an excellent potter who achieves very interesting textures effects on his pots. Terry was born in England and trained as a production potter but now lives and works in Italy. Here's a link to his website: http://terrydavies.it/home/
The works name is: "ceramica d'uso abuso e riuso" which roughly translates to used, abused and re-cycled ceramics.
Black & White Photographs from La Meridiana International Ceramics School, Italy
Whilst I was there I took quite a few pictures with various film cameras. The pictures remained exposed but not dealt with until recently. I used the cupboard under the stairs at my parents house as a dark room to get the film onto spools. The cupboard is very small, full of; coats, umbrellas, shoes, files, bottles of various home brews, shoe cleaning materials, wrapping paper, the ironing board. You name it, its probably in there. It was hot, stuffy and generally not a very comfortable experience.
I developed them on the kitchen table with newspaper laid out to protect the table cloth from the chemicals. I wore a pair of marrigolds-bright yellow rubber gloves, to protect my hands. A few months ago I managed to burn my hands quite badly in the dark room by not being careful with the chemicals... sloshing them about without any gloves on. So now I am more careful.
Once developed, I hung them up on a make shift line over the kitchen sink (well, my dad actually hung the line). They looked pretty decent holding them up to the light, but you can't really tell if they are any good until they are scanned.
This takes place the day after developing and is by far the dullest part of the process. Waiting for the scanner, saving them as different files etc etc. Computers! But now they are all scanned and some of them came out alright. Many did not, but that was to be expected. The best pictures were those taken on a KII camera that I bought it at a little street market in Florence. The KII is a Klein, which is an Italian camera based on the Leica. It is pictures below:
The reason I have such comprehensive pictures of it is that I managed to leave it at Pisa airport. It was round my neck before I went through the body scan, so took it off and placed it in a tray all on its own. Never to be seen again. Although I am thinking about trying to get FedEx to pick it up for me.
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| The barn where I had my kick wheel... in the left attached bit. |
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| A view through the vines. |
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| Two of my jugs. Shapely but you wouldn't want to pick them up or pour with them. |
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| This is Rina, the other ceramics assistant, posing in an alleyway. |
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| My kick wheel, complete with mounds of trimmings. |
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| Lauren by the sign to the school. |
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| Lauren grasping a bottle of water n a scorching walk in the Tuscan countryside. |
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| My room. |
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| Pietro Madelena (who set up the school in 1982) laying the foundation of a soda kiln. |
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| Two of my fired pots with Clay and Glazes for the Potter by Daniel Rhodes |
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| Roofing tiles |
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| Grape vines. |
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| Nook Squiggle I |
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| Nook Squiggle II |
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| The view from the balcony. |
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| Different roofing tiles |
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| Pietro's outside flower sculpture. These were brilliant colours and moved in the wind. |
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| Two friendly monks I met. |
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| Luccia the master chef. |
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| Charlie the dog. Charlie is a really lovely dog who is quite unabashedly addicted to biscuits. |
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| Close up grapes. |
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| The smaller pot closest the camera was made by Mark Hewitt. It was my example jug shape (without spout or handle obviously), that I tried unsuccessfully to emulate. |
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| The fields disappearing on the way to Certaldo train station. |
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| Certakdo train station. |
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| My bags. Far too full of pots and pasta. |