Preparation of the Clay 87
Fashioning the Vases 89
(1) Wheelwork 89
(2) Building 93
Firing the Vases 94
Red Ochre Wash 96
Porosity of Greek Pottery 98
The Status of Potters 98
Conclusion 106
Selected Bibliography 109
Index 111
ILLUSTRATIONS
_Figure_ _Page_
1. Wedging (a) 3
2. Wedging (b) 4
3. Kick-wheel with treadle 5
4. Kick-wheel with disk 6
5. Wheel put in motion by assistant turning handle 6
_Processes of throwing_:
6. Centering ball 7
7. Pressing clay down 7
8. Squeezing clay into cone 7
9. Inserting thumb 7
10. Making cylinder 8
11. Making bowl 8
12. Making jar 8
13. Making bottle 8
14. Turning a vase 10
15. Turned foot 11
16. Foot left as thrown 12
17. Turning marks on outside of vase 13
18. Turning marks on inside of vase 13
19. Finishing marks left in handwork 14
20. Unturned inside of amphora 15
21. Vase thrown in sections 16
22. Sections in place 17
23. Vase after turning 17
24. Wet cellar 18
25. Detail of kylix showing joint 19
26. Detail of amphora showing difference between polished and
unpolished surfaces 20
27. Attachment of handles 21
28-33. Athenian vases showing treatment of handles 22, 23, 24
34. Detail of krater showing under part of handle left rough 25
35. Making coils 26
36. Vase poured in a mould 28
37. Inside of moulded vase 29
38. Vase showing joint of two parts of mould 30
39. Open kiln 31
40. Muffle kiln with biscuit ware 32
41. Open kiln showing saggers 33
42. Muffle kiln with glazed ware 34
43. Detail of amphora showing preliminary sketch 37
44. Design on red-figured krater.
(a) Preliminary sketch 38
(b) Completed painting 38
45. Detail of hydria showing dent with mark over black glaze 41
46. Detail of amphora showing dent with clay from other body
still adhering 42
47. Unfinished kylix 43
48. Foot of unfinished kylix 43
49. Black-glazed amphora with large red spot on one side 46
_Methods of Glazing_:
50. Dipping 48
51. Pouring 49
52. Use of the brush 50
53. Spraying 51
54. Hydria showing brush marks 52
55. Detail of psykter showing relief line 53
56. Detail of amphora showing diluted black glaze line (on arm)
going over red ochre left in preliminary sketch line 57
57. Inside of krater showing extensive wear 63
_Representations of ancient potters fashioning vases_:
58. Athenian pottery establishment 64
59. Potter throwing 66
60. Potter throwing 66
61. Potter attaching handles 67
62. Potter incising lines (?) 68
63. Potter joining sections (?) 68
64. Boy finishing a vase 69
65. Potter building a vase 70
_Representations of ancient potters decorating vases_:
66. Athena and Victories crowning potters at work 71
67. Youth decorating kylix 72
68. Potter glazing kylix 73
69. Potter painting bands on a krater 73
70. Three youths, one painting a krater 74
71. Pottery establishment 75
_Representations of ancient potters firing_:
72. Potter stoking fire 76
73. Potter stoking fire 76
74-79. Potters regulating draught 77
80. Vases stacked in potter’s kiln 78
_Representations of ancient potters: miscellaneous scenes_:
81. Youth removing vase from oven with two sticks 79
82. Youth working on vases (?) 79
83. Master potter(?) 80
84. Woman potter(?) 81
85. Client in potter’s shop 82
86. Ship with cargo of pottery 82
_Potter’s Implements_:
87. Wheel-head 84
88. Tools found at Arezzo 85
89. Stilt 85
PREFACE
For our knowledge of the technique of Athenian vases we have various
sources of information. There are a number of references to the craft in
ancient literature; we have several actual representations of potters at
work among extant vase paintings; and there is the important testimony of
the vases themselves. The information gleaned from these three sources
has been duly worked over by archaeologists, and the many accounts we
have of the technique of Greek vases are all based more or less on this
evidence. There is, however, another very important source of information
ready to our hand which has not been fully utilized, namely, the study of
the technical processes employed in the making of modern pottery. For,
the nature and properties of clay being the same now that they were in
Greek times, the manner of working it must have been essentially the same
then as now. Many archaeologists have, of course, seen potters at work
in different places, or perhaps consulted potters on specific points;
but that is a different thing from getting a thorough knowledge of the
craft oneself and learning once for all what is possible and what is not
possible in clay-working.
The neglect of this highly valuable source of information has led to some
surprising theories regarding the technique of Greek vases; and these
theories have been repeated over and over again in our books on vases,
for the simple reason that, not having any first-hand knowledge, we have
copied these statements from one another. A modern potter reading these
accounts finds them remarkable literature. The present writer, realizing
her own ignorance on the many questions of clay-working, went to a modern
pottery school. The result of this first-hand study was not only the
acquisition of new knowledge, but a totally new insight into the whole
subject. The present essay is an attempt to revise the current theories
of the technique of Athenian pottery in the light of this practical
experience.
Not only does such practical experience supply us with the knowledge
essential for the consideration of technical problems, but it gives
us a new appreciation of the beauty of Athenian vases. If we try to
make such shapes ourselves we shall begin to observe many details
which perhaps passed unnoticed before—the finely designed handles,
the well-proportioned feet, the practical mouths; and the curves, the
mouldings, and the subtle variations will become a constant delight
to the eye. Moreover, we shall be impressed more than ever with the
wonderful sense of proportion in Athenian vases. For the relation of the
height to the width, the proportions of the neck, the body, the foot, and
the handles to one another appear to be all nicely thought out. There is
no hit-or-miss about it; the whole is an interrelated theme evidently
planned carefully before making, either by the potter himself or by a
professional designer.
In short, any one who has tried his hand in the production of Greek forms
will understand very well that the makers of such vases were proud of
their work and that the signature of a well-known potter was at least as
valuable as that of a popular decorator.[1]
The pottery school to which I went was the New York State School of
Ceramics at Alfred, New York. Throughout my work at the school and
later in my investigation of Greek vases at the Metropolitan Museum,
I had the great benefit of the advice of Professor Charles F. Binns,
director of the school. In fact, any value which this paper may possess
is largely due to this opportunity of appeal to someone who possesses the
rare combination of expert knowledge in the field of practical pottery
with a scholar’s attitude toward the problems presented by the ancient
ware. It is also a pleasure to acknowledge the many helpful suggestions
made from time to time by Miss Maude Robinson, director of the pottery
work at Greenwich House, New York, as well as by Miss Elsie Binns and
Harold Nash, modern potters whom I have had the advantage of consulting
on various questions. I am indebted to Miss Helen McClees for valuable
assistance in the section dealing with the references to pottery craft in
ancient literature. In my examination of Greek vases, which necessitated
handling of the specimens, I was greatly helped by the courteous
assistance of many museum directors.
The plan of this book is as follows: The first chapter gives a concise
account of the processes in use in the making of vases at modern pottery
schools[2] and their application to the technique of ancient vases. The
second chapter contains a description of the various representations we
have of ancient potters at work. In the third chapter are collected the
chief Greek and Latin texts referring to the ancient pottery craft. After
this presentation of all the evidence on the technique of Athenian vases
comes a short summary of the new conclusions arrived at, and a selected
bibliography.
The illustrations of modern pottery scenes were taken under the direction
of Charles F. Binns at the New York State School of Ceramics, Alfred,[3]
and of Maude Robinson at pottery studios in New York City.[4]
I. TECHNICAL PROCESSES IN THE MAKING OF MODERN POTTERY AND THEIR
APPLICATION TO THE TECHNIQUE OF ANCIENT VASES
PREPARATION OF THE CLAY
_Ingredients and properties._
The making of a pot begins in the clay bed. The clay has to be found, it
has to be transported, and above all it has to be tested to see whether
it is adapted to the potter’s needs. For there are many different kinds
of clay and they are as individual as human beings; so that a thorough
understanding of them is essential to the successful potter.
The chief ingredients of clay are silica, alumina, and water. Other
possible ingredients are iron oxide, lime (calcium oxide), magnesia, and
potash. To the iron compounds are due the different colors of the clay.
When potters speak of the color of a clay—red, yellow, white—they refer
to the color after burning, not in the raw state. The tones of the color
are controlled by heat; for instance, a red clay becomes first pink, then
in a higher fire a deeper red, and in a still higher fire a brownish red.
The potter demands three properties of his clay: (1) plasticity, the
property which enables the clay to acquire form; (2) porosity, the
property which enables the water to escape; and (3) vitrification, the
property which enables the clay to be fired. These three properties
are due to the three chief component parts of the clay; namely, clay
base, quartz, and feldspar. It will be found that some clays are not
plastic enough, others not sufficiently porous, and others again not
properly vitrifiable; in such cases the addition of certain substances is
necessary to make the clay usable. The actual composition of the clay,
therefore, is of great importance, as no amount of skilful labor will
avail if the clay itself has not the right consistency.
_Washing._
When the right composition of the clay has been assured, the next step
is to wash it and separate it from the many natural impurities, such as
stones, sticks, etc., with which it is mixed. A clay not properly washed
is a source of great vexation in the later stages of pottery making. The
best method is that of “blunging,” that is, the dry clay is put into
water and stirred constantly until it reaches the consistency of cream,
technically called “slip,” whereupon it is poured through sieves, coarse
or fine according to the desired consistency. The liquid clay or slip
must then be dried sufficiently to become plastic and workable. This can
be done either in filter presses in which the water is squeezed out in a
comparatively short time, or in shallow receptacles in the open air where
the water is allowed slowly to evaporate.
_Wedging._
But even at this stage the clay is not yet ready for use; it has first to
go through the important process of kneading or “wedging.” This consists
of cutting a ball of clay in two against a wire (fig. 1), slapping the
two parts on a plaster or wooden board, one on top of the other (fig. 2),
then lifting up the whole lump, cutting it in two again, and slapping it
down as before. The purpose is to remove all air bubbles and to correct
irregularities in hardness. The operation has sometimes to be repeated
fifteen or twenty times before a good texture is secured.[5]
[Illustration: Fig. 1. Wedging (a)]
We learn from the above survey that the fine consistency of the clay in
Athenian and in some other Greek wares is not necessarily due to its
natural state, but to the careful washing and kneading undergone in its
preparation for use. When different particles are found in the fired
clay they are due to indifferent washing. And the varying shades of pink
and red of Greek vases likewise do not presuppose different kinds of
clay, but are due largely to the various temperatures to which the vases
were fired. We have too often made our analyses of clays of Greek vases
without due cognizance of these facts.
FASHIONING THE VASES
(1) WHEELWORK
There are three principal ways of making vases—fashioning them on the
wheel, building them, and making them from moulds. Let us examine first
the work on the wheel, the potter’s tool par excellence.
[Illustration: Fig. 2. Wedging (b)]
_Types of wheel._
There are various types of wheel in general use today. The wheel run by
electric power does not concern us here since it cannot have been used
by the Greeks. In studio potteries, a kick-wheel is often used. In this
the operator stands and kicks with his left foot against a treadle,
the weight of his body being supported by the right (fig. 3). Another
fairly popular type has a large, heavy disk at the bottom revolving in a
horizontal plane, and kept in motion by one foot of the operator (fig.
4). A very simple type of wheel in use some time ago is illustrated in
fig. 5. Here the motion is imparted by an assistant turning the handle.
[Illustration: Fig. 3. Kick-wheel with treadle]
Any one of these three types may have been used by the Greeks. In the
representations of ancient potters at work (cf. pp. 64 ff.) the wheel
appears to have been propelled either with the foot or by an assistant.
[Illustration: Fig. 4. Kick-Wheel with disk]
[Illustration: Fig. 5. Wheel put in motion by assistant turning handle
Barber, _The Pottery and Porcelain of the United States_, p. 4, fig. 2]
_Throwing._
[Illustration: FIGS. 6-9. Processes of throwing
Fig. 6. Centering ball
Fig. 7. Pressing clay down
Fig. 8. Squeezing clay into cone
Fig. 9. Inserting thumb]
[Illustration: FIGS. 10-13. Processes of throwing
Fig. 10. Making cylinder
Fig. 11. Making bowl
Fig. 12. Making jar
Fig. 13. Making bottle]
The first task in fashioning a vase on the wheel—or “throwing” it, as it
is technically called—is to center the ball of clay on the wheel-head. It
is accomplished by pressing the left hand against the ball of clay as it
revolves rapidly, care being taken to keep the left forearm absolutely
rigid (fig. 6). The right hand is used for keeping the clay wet by
sprinkling it with water, and for pulling the clay inward, thus squeezing
it up to a cone. The cone is pressed up and down in this manner several
times (figs. 7 and 8). When the ball runs perfectly true, it is time to
open it by inserting the thumb in the center (fig. 9); then by placing
the fingers of one hand inside the hollow, and the fingers of the other
on the outside,[6] and by raising both hands gradually several times and
squeezing the clay lightly while so doing, a cylinder is formed (fig.
10). The cylinder is the foundation of all other shapes. For to produce a
bowl, one need only pull out the cylinder a little at the top (fig. 11);
to make a globular jar, pull it out at the bottom and in at the top (fig.
12); to fashion a long-necked vase, pull it out at the bottom and in at
the top, leaving enough clay to spin the top into a tall, narrow cylinder
which will serve as a neck (fig. 13); and by various other manipulations
one can produce almost every variety of shape. To throw a vase to
specific measurements, a careful drawing of the shape should first be
made and calipers and measuring sticks kept close at hand for checking
the work as it proceeds.
The earliest Greek vases are made by hand; but from the Early Minoan III
and Middle Helladic I periods (i.e., about 2200 B.C.) in certain places
at least, vases were regularly thrown on the wheel. They could not have
the regular and symmetrical outlines they have if they were built by
hand, and many would show traces of vertical joints if they were made in
moulds.
That the processes of throwing were identical with those described as
in use today, there is of course no means of determining; but they
certainly must have been similar, as clay has not changed its nature from
Greek times to ours. The evidence which we glean from representations
on Greek vases of potters at work, scanty though it is, bears out this
self-evident fact. From the above description it will be noted that in
this work of throwing the simultaneous use of both hands is necessary—an
important fact to remember when interpreting scenes to be related to the
fashioning of vases.
_Turning._
[Illustration: Fig. 14. Turning a vase]
After a piece has been thrown on the wheel, it has assumed its general
shape, but that is all. The thinning of the walls, the refinements of
foot and lip, all such finishing touches must be reserved for the next
process. This is known among modern potters as “turning.” In this the
clay is no longer in a wet state, but in a “leather-hard” condition,
and it is not worked with the hands but with steel cutting tools. A
newly shaped vase becomes leather hard after it has been kept in the air
and the water allowed to evaporate for about twenty-four hours. Pieces
in this state are hard enough to be handled with care and to be cut
easily with a knife. They are not so fragile as either in the wet or in
the “bone-dry” state, but they are still delicate and exposed to many
dangers. Not until a vase has been fired is it safe to handle it freely.
The cutting with the steel tools is done on the wheel (or “jigger”[7]),
the right hand which grasps the tool being kept steady by letting it rest
on a stick held in the left hand; the stick should have a sharpened nail
on one end, the point of which is pressed into a wooden board at the
height required (fig. 14). By continued cutting off of thin shavings of
clay and by adding more clay in slip form when more is needed, the final
outline of the shape and the various grooves and mouldings for lip and
foot can be obtained. But it is a slow process, requiring time, care, and
great patience. For the smoothing of the surface, scrapers, sandpaper,
and sponge are useful.
[Illustration: Fig. 15. Turned foot
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 12.234.2]
[Illustration: Fig. 16. Foot left as thrown
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 07.232.30]
[Illustration: Fig. 17. Turning marks on outside of vase
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 06.1021.64]
[Illustration: Fig. 18. Turning marks on inside of vase
Met. Mus. Acc. No. G.R.1228]
This turning or refining of the shape after throwing, was, as we might
expect, not in universal use in ancient times. Prior to the sixth century
B.C. it was used occasionally here and there, and often only to a limited
extent. But there cannot be the slightest doubt that in the Athenian
black-figured and red-figured vases extensive use was made of the turning
tools. The grooves and mouldings for lip and foot were produced by this
turning process, not, as modern archaeologists tell us, by the use of
moulds.[8] For this there is abundant proof. The feet of Athenian vases
are almost all turned at the bottom, some with remarkable care and
finish (fig. 15), not left flat, as they would be after throwing (fig.
16). The lids of pyxides and similar vases could not have been made to
fit so neatly on their ledges without the use of turning. Above all,
the wonderful finish and precision of Athenian vases could never have
been attained by mere throwing. But there is even more convincing proof.
Unless the marks of the turning tools are very carefully obliterated
(with scrapers, sandpaper, and sponge), traces of them are always
visible. And this is the case also in Athenian vases. The outside
surfaces are generally carefully smoothed, but even there the ridges
formed by the tools are often discernible (fig. 17); and on the inside of
the necks or feet or lids such ridges and concentric or spiral scratches
are quite frequent (fig. 18). They are very different, however, from
the finishing marks left in handwork (fig. 19). To appreciate the fine,
smooth surface which work with the turning tools produces, we need only
examine the insides of most Athenian amphorai and hydriai; for these,
being more or less concealed, are generally left as thrown, often showing
the spiral ridges which rapidly revolving clay will cause (fig. 20). They
thus form a striking contrast to the finely smoothed outside surfaces.
[Illustration: Fig. 19. Finishing marks left in handwork
Met. Mus. Acc. No. G.R.834]
The fact that the Athenian potter made use of the turning process
shows incidentally that he was able to make his vases to very exact
measurements. This is important in connection with Jay Hambidge’s theory
that Athenian pottery was carefully designed on certain geometrical
principles;[9] for if the Athenian potter had confined himself merely
to throwing on the wheel that would not have been possible. It is during
the second process of turning that an expert potter can effect many
changes in width and height or in details, and thus make his product
correspond exactly with his carefully planned design. Modern potters of
standing work in the same way today. They first make a drawing of a vase,
full size or to scale, and then proceed to follow this drawing in every
detail, using rules and calipers for their guidance. Of course it needs
a great deal of skill and patience to be able to work so exactly; but
Greek potters, we can be quite sure, had a good supply of both of these
qualities.
[Illustration: Fig. 20. Unturned inside of amphora
Met. Mus. Acc. No. G.R.545]
_Work in sections._
So far we have spoken only of comparatively small vases, which can be
thrown all in one piece. Larger vases are best thrown in sections. To
throw large jars in one piece requires great physical strength, and it is
very difficult to finish such jars properly on the inside and to prevent
them from being unduly heavy. The section work is by no means easy. At
first a drawing of the vase has to be made, either full size or to scale,
and the heights of the different parts marked off. While throwing the
respective pieces use must be made of measuring sticks and calipers, to
obtain the right heights and diameters. The measurements should be those
of the soft clay, which will of course be slightly larger than those
of the final shape. About one-eighth is the average allowance for the
shrinkage of the clay in drying and firing. This shrinkage will naturally
be proportional; so that the relation of every part to the whole will
be the same in the fired vase as in the thrown product. The joining is
obtained by applying a thick slip of the same clay as was used for the
vase, to act as a binder. When all the sections are in place the outside
of the vase can be “turned.” If this and the foregoing processes are done
skilfully the final joints will hardly be visible, even before the glaze
is applied. Figs. 21, 22, 23 show the three chief stages in the making of
a vase in sections.
[Illustration: Fig. 21. Vase thrown in sections]
To obtain good results in this work it is important that it should not
be hurried. It is best, for instance, before joining the sections, to
let them stand on top of one another for a day or longer, in order that
they may mature together. To retain the pieces during this time in
leather-hard condition, they must be kept in a “wet cellar,” that is, in
a moist place where the water in the clay will not evaporate (fig. 24).
With this simple precaution pieces can be kept leather hard practically
indefinitely.
[Illustration: Fig. 22. Sections in place]
[Illustration: Fig. 23. Vase after turning]
Section work was used by the Greeks, as it is now. There would, in fact,
be nothing gained in throwing the very large vases, such as some of the
kraters and amphorai, all in one piece; and though the joints are, as a
rule, skilfully concealed, they are plainly visible on certain examples,
especially on the inside. Where possible the joints seem to have been
made at the natural angles or “articulations” of the vase (that is, at
the neck, the foot, etc.); and further to simplify the work, a thin ridge
of clay was often added to conceal the joint.[10]
[Illustration: Fig. 24. Wet cellar]
One of the most difficult things to throw successfully is a flat,
wide bowl on a foot; and the larger the diameter of the bowl the more
difficult the task, since the overhanging rim almost always sags at the
critical moment. The fifth-century kylix has therefore always been
rightly admired as one of the greatest feats of the Athenian potter.
How did he prevent the bowl from sagging? Did he throw it upside down
and hollow it out later with the turning tools? Or did he make the
base very thick and then “turn” it down to fit on a slender foot? Both
methods would be clumsy, as they would entail lengthy turning work. Or
was the Athenian potter so skilful that he somehow prevented the clay
from sagging? Not at all. He simply threw his kylix in two sections;
the foot with a bowl about half the required diameter in one piece (or
possibly two, with the foot separate), and the remaining part of the bowl
as a separate section. The joints where the two parts of the bowl were
united are clearly visible on many kylikes on the outside (fig. 25)[11];
the inside of the kylix, being the most conspicuous part, is always so
carefully turned that no joining can be detected.
_Polishing._
[Illustration: Fig. 25. Detail of kylix showing joint
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 06.1021.167]
To impart a polish, the blade of a knife is applied to the surface while
the vase is revolving; for an inward curve a curved tool must be used.
The operation is simple and can be accomplished in a few minutes. It is
not often employed, however, by the modern potter, whose object is to
keep the pores of his vase open for the better adhesion of the glaze with
which he intends to cover the surface of his pot.
The Athenian potter, on the other hand, put great stress on giving the
surface of his vase a fine polish; probably using the simple method
described above. The difference between a polished and an unpolished
surface is clearly seen on some vases on which the potter has omitted
to repolish the parts round the handles where the slip used for the
attachment had spilled over (fig. 26).
_Attachment of handles._
[Illustration: Fig. 26. Detail of amphora showing difference between
polished and unpolished surfaces
Met. Mus. Acc. No. G.R.530]
The final process in the fashioning of a vase is the attachment of the
handles. These can be made either in moulds or by hand. Any one who
thinks that the making of handles is a simple or quick process will soon
be undeceived. Whether working in plaster, as one would if the handle
is made in a mould, or in clay, if it is made by hand, the potter must
bestow infinite care on the work, as both clay and plaster are very
liable to break; and working on so small a thing as a handle is extremely
fussy. The writer personally found nothing so difficult in her whole
pottery training as the making of handles. The best method of procedure
in handwork is first to shape the handle roughly while the clay is soft
and plastic, then wait until it becomes leather hard, and finally refine
it to the desired form and finish with modeling tools. In moulded work,
the handle has to be cut out in plaster and then used for making the
mould. When the handles are finally made, they are joined to the vase
by means of slip, in the same way that the sections were (fig. 27). As
the handle is pressed into position the superfluous slip will of course
spill over the edge, and this has to be carefully removed and the surface
smoothed before the vase can be pronounced finished. The vase is then put
in the drying room so that all the water in the clay may evaporate. Only
when it is perfectly dry can it be fired in the kiln; otherwise it is
liable to crack.
[Illustration: Fig. 27. Attachment of handles]
The handles of Athenian vases show perhaps better than anything else
the great skill and sense of beauty of the Athenian potter; and they
will repay detailed study (cf. figs. 28-33). They are never, as so
often on modern vases, detached pieces stuck on the vase as a kind of
afterthought. Rather, they seem to grow out of the vase like branches
from a tree, which gives them a wonderful, living quality. Moreover,
the place where they were attached, the size, and the curve have been
carefully considered both from a practical and from an aesthetic point
of view.
[Illustration: Fig. 28. Amphora in the Boston Museum
Acc. No. 01.17]
[Illustration: Fig. 29. Hydria in the Metropolitan Museum
Acc. No. 06.1021.190]
[Illustration: Fig. 30. Kantharos in the Boston Museum
Acc. No. 95.36]
[Illustration: Fig. 31. Volute krater in the Boston Museum
Acc. No. 90.153]
[Illustration: Fig. 32. Bell krater in the Metropolitan Museum
Acc. No. 07.286.86]
[Illustration: Fig. 33. Kylix in the Metropolitan Museum
Acc. No. G.R.1047]
Athenian handles are made by hand, not in moulds. Practically every
pair of handles shows perceptible variations such as are unavoidable in
handwork and distinguish it from the mechanical products of moulding. The
handles were attached to the vase in leather-hard condition, and often
the pressure entailed thereby resulted in a slight bulge on the inner
side. This is particularly noticeable on kylikes where the walls of the
pot were especially thin.
[Illustration: Fig. 34. Detail of krater showing under part of handle
left rough
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 07.286.73]
It may be noted that the handles of Athenian vases are not finished
off neatly in parts where they were not seen. For instance, the under
parts of handles on column kraters are generally left quite rough (fig.
34). This fact, together with that already observed, that the insides
of amphorai and hydriai are usually unturned, shows that the Greeks, at
least, had no such theories as those often held today that a work should
be finished perfectly all over, even in places not ordinarily seen, and
were quite willing to save trouble when possible. Many potters today
bestow as much care on the inside of a narrow flask as on that of an open
bowl. It is characteristic of the sense of proportion of the Greeks that
their potters took infinite trouble with what was important—the shapes,
the proportions, the decoration—but that they did not spend time and
labor where it profited nobody.
(2) BUILDING
[Illustration: Fig. 35. Making coils]
Compared to the wheelwork the building appears simple at first, but
experience will soon show that it too needs considerable practice.
Though the actual process has not the glamor and thrill associated with
wheelwork, there is a certain quality in a built vase which gives it a
value of its own. Building is generally done nowadays by means of coils
of clay (fig. 35), which must be a little thicker than the walls of the
vase are to be and should be as uniform as possible. To make the foot
of the vase, the end of one of these coils is laid in the center of a
plaster bat and the rest coiled round in spiral line. To hide the joints
the surface is rubbed over with the fingers on both sides. In making
the walls of the vase a coil is used for each round and the superfluous
clay pinched off, every new coil being begun at a new point. The whole
surface, inside and outside, is again smoothed by rubbing with the
fingers, using very little water in the process. Only about three coils
should be worked in at a time and then left to harden before new coils
are added. In building up a certain shape it is best to use a templet of
cardboard or plaster, to be sure that the profile of the vase is followed
out correctly. To give the required finish at the end, modeling tools as
well as further rubbing with the fingers are required.
With this process in mind it is easy to distinguish between built and
wheel-made pottery among the Greek wares. In the built pottery, however
careful the work, there is always a certain unevenness of outline—which
indeed gives it some of its charm. Unlike the moderns, the Greeks did not
continue to build pottery after the invention of the wheel. Naturally the
general adoption of the wheel was not synchronous in all ceramic centers.
It was used considerably earlier in Crete, for instance, than in Cyprus.
But when once its convenience was thoroughly realized, the slower and
more monotonous method was entirely dropped. Among Athenian black-figured
and red-figured vases there are no built pieces.
(3) MOULDING
The process of moulding vases is the one most in use nowadays, for
the simple reason that when once the required mould has been made the
production of any number of vases is a rapid and easy task. But though
commercially favored, this method is looked down upon by the artistic
potter as being purely mechanical, and there is no doubt that a moulded
vase has all the characteristics of machine work.
The material used for moulds nowadays is plaster. The clay can either
be poured into a mould in slip form or pressed into a mould while soft
and plastic. In the former process the mould or moulds are made in two
or more pieces, which fit closely together leaving an opening at the
top. By pouring the clay slip into the opening, leaving it to harden a
little, and then pouring out again what has not hardened, a hollow vase
is formed. After due shrinkage the mould is carefully removed from the
vase (fig. 36). The same mould can be used indefinitely for making vases
of the same shape; it has only to be dried between one use and the next.
Handles can be produced in the same way and then attached.
[Illustration: Fig. 36. Vase poured in a mould]
In pressing clay into moulds each part of the mould is used separately,
except where only one mould is required, as in the case of an open bowl
or tile. When the clay has been carefully pressed into every part of the
mould, it is left to harden, and then, upon shrinkage, can be easily
separated. If the vase has been pressed in several pieces, the parts must
be carefully joined and the seams effaced as neatly as possible.
The Greek potter did not use moulding as a labor-saving device. He
employed it only where the work demanded it, as in the Athenian plastic
ware. Here we sometimes even find the same mould used several times, as
in the group of a negro and a crocodile of which chance has preserved us
at least five replicas[12]; but the number of such repetitions is not
great and certainly would not indicate mass production.
[Illustration: Fig. 37. Inside of moulded vase
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 06.1021.205]
The material of Greek moulds was burnt clay. That the Athenian plastic
vases were pressed into moulds rather than poured can be seen from the
fact that the insides of these vases are rough and show finger-marks
(cf. fig. 37). The joints of the two parts are clearly visible on many
examples (cf. fig. 38). Often the lip was thrown separately on the wheel
and attached.
[Illustration: Fig. 38. Vase showing joint of two parts of mould
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 06.1021.203]
FIRING THE VASES
_Production of Temperature._
In the fire the great miracle takes place and the dry clay, most friable
and perishable of materials, becomes one of the most durable. This is
accomplished by the softening of the feldspar grains which cement the
whole together and thus form a dense mass. To produce the temperature
at which this phenomenon takes place two things are necessary, fuel and
draught, the former supplying the carbon, the latter the oxygen. The
liberation of the carbon in the fuel and its union with the oxygen of the
air develop combustion, during which heat is generated. Combustion can
be complete or incomplete. It is complete when there is an excess of air
and the carbon can combine with two molecules of oxygen to form carbon
dioxide (CO₂). This condition is called oxidation. It is incomplete when
there is not enough air and the carbon can get only one molecule of
oxygen, forming carbon monoxide (CO). This condition is called reduction.
Carbon monoxide, being very hungry for oxygen, will try to extract it
from whatever source it can. If ferric oxide (Fe₂O₃) is present in the
clay—which is the case in red clay—the carbon monoxide will take one
molecule of oxygen from it and convert it into ferrous oxide (CO + Fe₂O₃
= CO₂ + 2FeO). The important feature in this process is that ferric oxide
is red and will make the clay burn red; but ferrous oxide (FeO) is black
and will give the clay a blackish color. If no ferric oxide is present in
the clay, that is, if the clay is not a red clay, then reduction has no
effect on the color of the clay and can be freely used. In Europe potters
regularly burn under reducing conditions, while in America the general
practice is to burn under oxidizing conditions. When the draught in the
kiln is faulty, partial reduction will often occur, and many faults in
the burning, especially in the glazes, are attributable to this cause.
[Illustration: Fig. 39. Open kiln]
We shall see presently how important is a knowledge of these chemical
changes during the process of firing when we come to consider the defects
on Greek vases caused by injuries in the firing (cf. pp. 44 ff.).
_Types of kilns._
[Illustration: Fig. 40. Muffle kiln with biscuit ware]
There are two chief types of kiln construction in use today: (1) the open
kiln, in which the flame passes through the kiln chamber (fig. 39); (2)
the muffle kiln, in which the flame passes around the chamber and not
through it (fig. 40). In the open kiln the ware either comes in direct
contact with the flame, or is stacked in saggers, i.e., boxes made of
fire clay fitting one on top of the other (fig. 41). The muffle kiln is,
so to speak, one large sagger, and the ware is stacked on shelves. The
draught in the kiln can be either an up draught or a down draught; in
either case the air supply, as well as the fuel supply, must be under
control, so that the combustion shall be as desired. The draught can be
regulated by means of dampers, the fuel by attention to the burners. An
arched top is an advantage, for it imparts greater strength—an important
item considering the strain to which the kiln is subjected—and it
facilitates the circulation of the heat. Coal, wood, gas, or kerosene oil
can be used for fuel. Of these, oil and gas are now the most popular;
coal and wood are rapidly coming into disuse on account of the greater
labor they entail.
[Illustration: Fig. 41. Open kiln showing saggers]
_Packing the kiln._
[Illustration: Fig. 42. Muffle kiln with glazed ware]
In packing the kiln the ware is stacked as closely as possible for
economical reasons, so that as much as possible shall be accomplished in
one firing. In biscuit firing the ware can be placed so that it touches
(fig. 40); in glaze firing the pieces must be separated (fig. 42) both
from one another and from the bottom of the saggers or shelves on which
they stand, since the melted glaze is apt to run. Glazed pieces are
therefore generally placed on stilts made of burnt clay, and the marks of
these stilts will often show on the bottoms of the vases.
That the chief features of modern and Athenian kilns were similar is
clear from an examination of the ancient representations of kilns (cf.
figs. 72-81 and pp. 76 ff.). How closely the ware was sometimes stacked
is clearly seen in fig. 80. The fuel used by the Greeks was probably wood
and charcoal.
Almost all modern pottery is twice fired; once for the conversion of the
clay into terracotta or biscuit, and the second time for the glaze. To
glaze unbiscuited ware is a delicate business, and the risk of glazing a
piece of raw clay is considered larger than the trouble of burning it a
second time. It is done occasionally when very tough clay is used, for
instance, in kitchen crooks and in stoneware; in that case it is best to
apply the glaze when the clay is in leather-hard condition, for then the
absorption is less. More than the two regular firings are often used for
correcting mistakes in glazing, for additional coats of glaze, and for
decorating the ware.
_Firing._
Different wares and different glazes require different temperatures.
Thus porcelain and stoneware are fired to much higher temperatures than
ordinary pottery, and salt and alkaline glazes need a higher fire to
mature than the ordinary lead glazes. When the required temperature has
been reached—which nowadays is determined either by means of a pyrometer
or with the help of pyrometric cones which melt at a given temperature
and which are watched through a spy-hole (cf. fig. 40 where the cones are
set up opposite the spy-hole in the door, and fig. 42 where the cones
have melted)—the fire is gradually extinguished and the kiln left to cool
slowly. Twelve hours for the firing and twelve for cooling is a rough
estimate for the firing of an ordinary kiln. It is important not to hurry
the process of cooling, as a too rapidly cooling fire may crack the ware
or affect the glaze injuriously.
The Greeks fired their pottery at a considerably lower temperature
than potters do today. It seems to have been about 960° centigrade
(corresponding to about cone 010) since any increase over this
temperature causes a change in the color of the clay together with an
additional contraction. Mr. Tonks has made the ingenious suggestion
that, 950° and 1065° being the melting points of silver and gold
respectively, the Greeks may have used these metals in the same way as
the modern potters use cones, to regulate the heat of the kiln.[13]
When the kiln is finally opened comes the exciting moment of seeing
what the fire has done with one’s products. In taking out the contents
of the kiln, gloves and sticks are often useful for handling ware that
is still too hot to touch. Invariably there will be surprises—what one
has expected to be a great success often turns out a failure, and what
one thought little of may become a rare thing of beauty. In the biscuit
firing the adventures of the pot are comparatively few; it may crack or
sag or warp, but as a rule the expected shape is maintained. But in the
glaze firing so many elements enter in that even an experienced potter
can never be sure of the result. The color may turn out a different shade
from that desired; the glaze may unexpectedly be matt (dull) or too
glossy; it may blister or peel or crack; it may be too thin or too thick.
Such defects are almost invariably due to faulty composition of the clay
or the glaze or to the conditions of firing. They can often be remedied
by further glazings and firings; but quite often a pot on which much
time and labor have been bestowed is hopelessly ruined. A good potter,
however, will soon learn to bear such mishaps philosophically; and it is
certainly true that one often learns much more from failures than from
successes. Moreover, the element of uncertainty lends spice to the craft.
A careful consideration of the modern processes of firing pottery
described above will help us to settle the problems connected with the
firing of Greek vases—for the action of fire on clay remains the same
even though the kilns in use by the Greeks were probably somewhat more
primitive than now.
The chief problems which confront us in Athenian pottery are (1) the
number of firings, (2) the interpretation of defects on Greek vases as
injuries in the firing.
[Illustration: Fig. 43. Detail of amphora showing preliminary sketch
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 06.1021.114]
[Illustration: Fig. 44. Design on red-figured krater
(a) Preliminary sketch (b) Completed painting
Furtwängler u. Reichhold, _Griechische Vasenmalerei_, I, pl. VII]
_Number of firings._
Was Athenian pottery once or twice fired?[14] That is, was it decorated
in leather-hard or in biscuit condition? This has been one of the most
debated questions in Greek ceramics. Archaeologists often assume offhand
a number of firings,[15] but without stating any evidence or squarely
facing the problems involved. Briefly, the arguments for and against are
as follows. As is well known, a large proportion of red-figured vases of
good period show a preliminary, colorless sketch for the design traced
with a blunt[16] instrument directly on the clay (cf. figs. 43-44). The
smooth grooves of this sketch show beyond doubt that the sketch was made
while the clay was in leather-hard condition, that is, before firing. If
the vase had been fired, even at a low temperature, the sketch would have
had to be scratched in with a sharp tool, and would have left a ragged,
not a smooth line.[17] Now it is not a natural procedure for an artist
to make a rough sketch for his design, and then to leave his vase to be
fired before completing his work. Furthermore, an examination of the
incised lines on the black-figured vases—which clearly go over the black
glaze—shows also that these lines must have been made while the clay was
still leather hard. The ragged edge of the glaze along the incisions has
sometimes been thought to indicate that they were made after firing. But
just this effect is produced by cutting through dry glaze on unfired
clay; and it would have been very difficult to attain the required
delicacy, swing, and smoothness by incision into hard, fired clay. Any
one who will try the experiment will soon become convinced of this.[18]
So that, for the black-figured period at least, this evidence points to a
once-fired pottery.
On the other hand, it might be urged that if we assume that the
decoration was executed in leather-hard condition, the vase painters
whom we see depicted on Greek vases should be handling their pots
with considerable care, and that this is hardly conveyed in the
representations. On the Boston fragment, for instance, the painter
is holding a kylix by its slender foot without any apparent fear of
breaking it (fig. 67). And whoever painted the scene knew what he was
doing, for he was in the act of decorating such a kylix himself. However,
if the clay used by the Athenians was of a tough variety,[19] this
would, I have been told by potters, be a perfectly possible procedure;
and experiments made with imported Athenian clay[20] bore this out to an
astonishing degree. Vases made of this clay could be handled quite freely
in leather-hard condition. So that if the Athenian potter of the fifth
century used similar clay to that of his present-day descendant, his
handling of these pots on the vase paintings would be perfectly justified
in the leather-hard state.
There is, moreover, evidence which seems to settle this question beyond
dispute. On a number of the Athenian vases there are dents such as can
only have occurred while the vase was still in a leather-hard state. The
mark of the object contact with which caused the dent is invariably over
the black glaze (cf. fig. 45), showing clearly that the glaze must have
been applied in leather-hard condition.[21] In some cases we find still
adhering in the dents a little burnt clay, apparently from another vase
contact with which caused the accident. Here it is probable that the
accident was caused not while the vase was leather hard, but when red
hot in the kiln, at least in those instances, as in the black-figured
amphora in the Metropolitan Museum[22] (fig. 46), where the glaze shows
a rough fracture due to the separation of the two pieces which had stuck
together; for this fractured edge would have become fused and smooth upon
subsequent firing.[23]
[Illustration: Fig. 45. Detail of hydria showing dent with mark over
black glaze
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 17.230.15]
The fragments of unfinished vases which have been found from time to
time[24] have been used as evidence to prove several glaze fires; for
they show fired vases at a definite stage in the glazing, the outlines
and inner markings painted, but the background not yet filled in. Must
we, then, suppose that it was the regular practice—at least in the later
red-figured period to which all the unfinished pieces belong—to fire
before and after the painting of the background? It is difficult to see
what would be gained by the process. If the pottery were fired before any
decoration was applied, there would be the advantage of safer handling of
the ware; but to have an extra firing with the decoration more than half
completed gives no apparent gain and there is the distinct disadvantage
of the extra expense of firing.
[Illustration: Fig. 46. Detail of amphora showing dent with clay from
other body still adhering
Met. Mus. Acc. No. G.R.530]
[Illustration: Fig. 47. Unfinished kylix
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 11.212.9]
[Illustration: Fig. 48. Foot of unfinished kylix
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 11.212.9]
The unfinished kylix in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum may
shed light on this problem (fig. 47). It is not so fragmentary as the
pieces in the other museums, being complete except for portions of the
rim. The foot is very roughly turned (fig. 48), very different from the
average kylix foot, as if it had not been worth while to spend much
time on this product. The decoration itself is also quite cursory. This
suggests that the piece was merely a “test,” such as potters use often
nowadays for making trials of their clay body, or their glaze, or their
kiln. The kylix is, as a matter of fact, too soft fired, and the glaze
has turned reddish in parts. May we be permitted the guess that this was
a trial to test out a new kiln? It is only a possibility and there are
many others. The important point is that the evidence of the unfinished
fragments does not make it necessary to assume more than one glaze firing.
The probability, therefore, is that Athenian pottery is once fired,[25]
all ornamentation—both glaze and accessory colors[26]—being applied while
the vase was in leather-hard condition; for in the case of the accessory
colors also there would have been no advantage in an additional firing.
_Injuries in the firing._
The action of the fire on the potter’s products was apparently as much an
open question in Greek times as it is now. Practical experience must have
gone a long way then as today; but full control could not be achieved.
In forming an estimate of what proportion of the pottery was spoiled in
the kiln we must remember that in our museums we are apt to encounter
the survival of the fittest—what the potter considered worth preserving,
what the Greek client deemed adequate to his need, and what the modern
museum curator considers good enough for exhibition. But even in this
selection we meet with a number of kiln mishaps, which apparently were so
common that they were hardly noticed. When our eyes have become trained
to observe such things, we shall note that in any collection of Greek
vases there are many cases of warping and sagging, especially in the
overhanging lips of the hydriai and amphorai.[27] There are many cracks
and dents,[28] many faults in the glaze. A very conspicuous fault is the
change of the clay from a pink to a grayish color.[29] Archaeologists
often explain this as due to over-firing.[30] The real reason is not that
the temperature has been too high, but that the clay has been subjected
in the kiln or in the funeral pyre, to fumes the carbon of which has been
absorbed by the clay. In other words, there was either reduction and the
red ferric oxide in the clay has been changed to black ferrous oxide
(cf. pp. 30 f.), or the clay has absorbed the black carbon physically.
When controlled, this change is very useful to the potter for obtaining
certain effects. Thus bucchero pottery is simply red clay fired under
completely reducing conditions; and in the Vasiliki mottled ware some
carbonaceous pigment like tar was probably placed on the spots which were
intended to be black, whereupon the carbon would be absorbed by the clay
and the iron reduced.[31]
The commonest injury to the glaze in the fire is its change into a
brilliant red instead of the intended black. This can be observed on many
vases, sometimes as a large spot (cf. fig. 49), other times as a less
clearly defined variegation.[32] The cause was irregularity of fire, a
jet of air passing through the kiln coming in contact with parts of the
vases. In other words, there was an excess of oxygen (or the reverse of
reduction) which turned the black ferrous oxide of the glaze into red
ferric oxide.[33]
[Illustration: Fig. 49. Black-glazed amphora with large red spot on one
side
Met. Mus. Acc. No. G.R.607]
Such red spots caused by jets of air coming in contact with the vases
must not be confused with the very similar red spots which are due to
the wearing off of the black glaze and the exposure underneath it of the
ochre-tinted clay (cf. p. 58). Examination with a magnifying glass will
show the difference: in one case the red is part of and level with the
black glaze, in the other it is on a layer beneath the black glaze; in
the former case the red will not come off when rubbed, in the latter it
will.
GLAZING
Besides shaping and firing a vase, a potter must understand the art of
glazing, to many the most alluring part of the craft; this comprises both
the preparation of the glaze and its application to the pot. A glaze is
a chemical compound, known as a silicate, which upon firing becomes a
glassy substance. It has three chief ingredients: (1) an oxide of lead,
of lime, of alkali, etc., which forms the foundation of the glaze; (2)
alumina and boron oxide, which regulate the behavior of the glaze in the
fire; and (3) silica, which controls the fitting of the glaze to the
body. Modern glazes are divided into two chief categories: lead glazes
and leadless glazes. Of these the former are by far the more numerous;
but alkaline glazes, tin enamels, etc., are also used, especially in
studio potteries.
In the preparation of a glaze the ingredients have first to be weighed
out carefully in the required proportions; the mixture has then to be
ground with water and sieved; and when the right thickness is attained
(usually about the consistency of cream), the glaze is applied to the
vase, which should first be soaked in water to saturation to prevent too
rapid absorption. Gum tragacanth is used as a binder to make the glaze
stick.
The glaze can be applied in various ways—by dipping (fig. 50), by pouring
(fig. 51), by the use of the brush (fig. 52), or by spraying (fig. 53),
the method depending chiefly on the individual choice of the potter. To
apply a glaze properly to the clay body is a great art, and upon it, as
much as on the preparation of the glaze, final success depends. The glaze
mixtures when applied are whitish or grayish; it is only after firing
that they assume the wonderful range of colors which delight us so much
today.
[Illustration: Fig. 50. Method of glazing: dipping]
[Illustration: Fig. 51. Method of glazing: pouring]
The Athenian potter had no ambition to produce brilliant color effects
in glazing. He was content with the one variety which he had brought to
perfection—a thin, luminous glaze of a deep, velvety black color and of
astonishing durability. After generations of experiments we cannot yet
say that we can successfully imitate it. Its composition is, however, no
longer a secret. It has been shown by analysis and synthesis that the
chief component parts of the glaze are an alkali (potash or soda), a clay
(which would contain some silica such as flint naturally), and ferrous
oxide.[34] The exact proportion of these parts, and above all the
manipulation of the glaze are still unknown. At least, nothing completely
corresponding to the Greek glaze has as yet been produced, though Mr.
Tonks[35] and especially Mr. Binns[36] have come very near it. Whether
the secret lies in the proportion, in the medium used for binder,[37] or
in some undiscovered element one cannot tell. It is only certain that
when the discovery is made, as doubtless it must be, it will be of great
import both to archaeologists and to modern potters.
[Illustration: Fig. 52. Method of glazing: use of the brush]
The glaze was, as I have endeavored to show (cf. pp. 37 ff.), applied to
the vase in leather-hard condition. At that stage the clay still contains
enough water to prevent too rapid absorption, and the glaze, therefore,
runs in an easy, flowing manner.[38] To carry out his work the painter
could take his time, for, as we have seen (cf. p. 16), a vase can be kept
leather hard for an indefinite period by the simple device of placing
it in a damp box, that is, an air-tight case with a pan of water at the
bottom.[39]
[Illustration: Fig. 53. Method of glazing: spraying
Cox, _Pottery for Artists, Craftsmen and Teachers_, p. 111, fig. 51]
[Illustration: Fig. 54. Hydria showing brush marks
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 11.212.7]
How did the Greek painter apply the glaze to his pottery? We know that
on the broader surfaces the brush was used, for brush marks are clearly
visible in many cases.[40] When possible the backgrounds and horizontal
bands were painted while the piece was rotating on the wheel; where a
panel had to be reserved, the irregularity of free-hand brush work can
readily be observed (fig. 54). For the “flat” glaze lines, in both the
figured scenes and the ornamental motives, smaller brushes were employed.
But what was the instrument which produced the famous “relief” lines,
that is, those fine lines which stand out perceptibly from the surface
and which were used for the contours and inner markings of the figures
during the best red-figured period (fig. 55)? The quality of these lines
has been justly admired by all who have studied them and it has been
thought that the instrument used had much to do with the result.[41]
After a number of experiments with fine brushes, single bristles,
reeds, feathers, pens, etc., I have come to the conclusion that it is of
little avail to discuss the instrument used before we can employ in our
experiments a glaze identical with the Greek. For to get the wonderful
flow of the Greek line, the glaze must run much more easily than any
imitation black glaze which we have so far produced. The groove which
runs down the middle of the relief lines hardly affords a clue; for
slight pressure of any instrument seems to produce such a result.
[Illustration: Fig. 55. Detail of psykter showing relief line
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 10.210.18]
RED OCHRE WASH
In three statements of ancient writers the addition of red ochre to
Athenian pottery is referred to.[42] In Pliny, Natural History, XXXV,
152, we read: Boutades inventum est rubricam addere aut ex rubra creta
fingere, “Boutades first added red ochre, or made pottery of red clay.”
Isidorus, Etymologiae, XX, iv, 3, speaks of pottery vases having been
first invented at Samos and then adds: Postea inventum et rubricam addere
et ex rubra creta fingere, “a later invention was to add red ochre and
to make pottery of red clay.” Suidas in his lexicon, where he describes
Cape Kolias as a place in Attica where pottery is made, says that the
clay from that region is the best, and adds: ὥστε καὶ βάπτεσθαι ὑπὸ τῆς
μίλτου, “so that it is also dyed with red ochre.”
Archaeologists have assumed that this red ochre was mixed with the clay
and that to it was due the deeper color of Athenian ware as compared, for
instance, with the geometric. Thus in practically all our books on vases
the preparation of the clay for the manufacture of Athenian vases is
described somewhat as follows: “The clay having been thoroughly purified
and washed, was then kneaded and brought to a consistency suitable for
shaping it on the wheel. It was at this stage that other substances,
chiefly a red earth (ochre = μίλτος), were worked in with the clay to
deepen the color.” First of all, it should be noted that if ochre is to
be added to the clay it must be done long before the kneading stage,
otherwise the red ochre will of course not mix evenly. The best time
would be when the clay is dry, so that a definite proportion could be
weighed out. But that is too obvious to need discussion. The question is,
Does the addition of red ochre materially change the color of the clay?
It may be interesting in this connection to record my experience in the
matter. About three years ago I was asked to speak at a convention of
modern potters meeting at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the subject
of Greek vases. I thought that these potters would probably be specially
interested in the technical side of Greek ceramics, and with the courage
of ignorance I described in detail our theories regarding the manufacture
of Greek pottery. It was the questions which the potters asked me
afterwards which convinced me that it was time I went to a pottery
school. One of my statements which aroused considerable interest was this
theory that red ochre was added as an ingredient to deepen the color of
red clay. Several men came to me after the talk and said, “I don’t see
why the Greeks did that; for by just slightly raising the temperature
they could easily have deepened the color.” I had no answer then, but
when I went to the pottery school I thought I should take nothing for
granted, but convince myself by making my own experiments. So I made some
tests, adding certain percentages of ochre to see how it would affect the
color. Apparently the ochre had little effect, and the pieces with and
without ochre were about equally pink when they came out of the kiln. I
then burned some pieces without any ochre to a little higher temperature
and the red was considerably deepened. I was quite convinced then that
the ochre added as an ingredient to the clay would not have the desired
result; besides, if we needed further proof we might remember that
analyses made of Athenian clay have shown no trace of ochre.[43]
What, then, do Pliny and Suidas mean when they speak of the addition of
red ochre to Athenian pottery? A number of archaeologists have observed
from time to time that Athenian vases, especially of the late red-figured
period, show traces of a reddish pigment applied over the surface.
Reichhold in his technical description of vases in Furtwängler und
Reichhold, Griechische Vasenmalerei, frequently refers to it as “rötliche
Lasur.”[44] Pottier ascribed it to a sort of varnish or lustre applied
over the surface of the decorated, fired vase which on decomposition
precipitated into a red deposit.[45] Walters thought that red ochre
was rubbed on certain parts of the vase which had remained too pale
after baking.[46] A detailed examination of the vases in many European
and American museums convinced me that the use of this red pigment was
quite general throughout the red-figured period, and to a limited extent
in the black-figured period. On a few vases it appears in excellent
preservation.[47] The majority of red-figured vases of all periods[48]
and a few of the black-figured vases[49] show traces of it. When it is
not otherwise visible, it can often be detected in the slight depressions
of the preliminary sketch, or under the handles, or on the under side of
the foot. As the color comes off when rubbed with a damp cloth, it is not
surprising that it is not better preserved, after the extensive cleaning
that most museum specimens have undergone. But the many traces which are
still preserved can only be satisfactorily explained by assuming that it
was the general practice—at least in the red-figured period—to apply a
red pigment over the whole surface of the vase.
[Illustration: Fig. 56. Detail of amphora showing diluted black glaze
line (on arm) going over red ochre left in preliminary sketch line
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 12.236.2]
In the light of this experience let us again examine what Pliny and
Suidas say. Pliny’s statement is sufficiently vague to make any
interpretation possible; but Suidas’ use of the word βάπτεσθαι, “to be
dipped,” is illuminating. The clay could not have been “dipped” in a
powdery or liquid state, the only way of having the ochre become an
actual ingredient in the clay. The term βάπτεσθαι implies that the clay
must have become a solid vase, in which case the ochre was applied only
on its surface. Indeed Athenaeus (480 E) uses the term βάπτεσθαι to
signify the “glazing” or “silvering” of earthen vessels. So that literary
testimony seems to agree with the evidence of the vases themselves
that the ochre was applied on the surface. At what stage, then, was
this ochre added? Was it before or after the black glaze? Careful
examination has shown that it was previous to the glazing. When the
black glaze is chipped off it generally takes the surface too, so that
instances of the red ochre showing underneath are not numerous; but
there are nevertheless a number of undoubted examples.[50] An especially
convincing instance is on an amphora in the Metropolitan Museum in which
a diluted black glaze line goes clearly over traces of the red lift in a
preliminary sketch line (fig. 56). Furthermore, in many cases the glaze
on the background surfaces has disintegrated and shows the red ochre
beneath.[51]
Since the black glaze was probably applied to the leather-hard clay, the
ochre wash must also have been added in that state. The leather-hard
vase might have been dipped in an ochre solution or the ochre applied
with a brush or rubbed into the surface as a powder. In order to make it
adhere properly to the clay actual experiments have shown that by far the
best results are obtained by giving the surface a good polish after the
application of the ochre. The ochre is thereby actually incorporated with
the clay and forms a good firm surface. If not so polished, it is powdery
after firing and comes off easily.
Experiments further showed that (1) red ochre applied in this manner on
the red clay in leather-hard condition produced an effect identical with
the red “wash” observable on the Athenian vases; (2) preliminary sketch
lines engraved lightly with a blunt tool did not remove the ochre; (3)
the ochre in no way interfered with the adhesion of the black glaze over
it; (4) the ochre came off only a little at a time even when rubbed hard
while wet. It is therefore only during the long processes of wear and
time that the red ochre application has worn off. But even when it has
entirely disappeared, it has stained the clay a deeper color—namely,
the orangey hues which we see now; for the actual color of the clay is
lighter and pinker, as any fracture will show.[52]
Originally, however, we learn from our investigation, the red-figured
Athenian vases had an even deeper and richer tint than they have
now—approaching more nearly the color of copper. The general effect,
therefore, must have been considerably more vivid than it is today, and
to some this thought may not at first appeal. But we should remember that
we are discovering also in other fields that the Greeks loved bright,
intense color, not the faded tints that so many of their works present
today.
WERE ATHENIAN VASES MADE FOR EVERY-DAY USE?
The theory has often been advanced that the painted black-figured and
red-figured vases were made for decoration and for votive and funeral
purposes, but not for actual use. Percy Gardner in his Grammar of Greek
Art (p. 160) holds this view and gives as his reason that the painted
vases were too fragile to be easily handled and too porous to contain
liquid. Reichhold in Furtwängler und Reichhold, Griechische Vasenmalerei,
Text, I, p. 82, and Skizzenbuch griechischer Meister, p. 10, is of the
same opinion, and bases his assumption on the fact that a number of the
vases show ancient rivet marks and could not therefore have served any
practical purpose in such a condition; also that no ancient vases show
signs of wear, which would have been unavoidable if they had been in
daily use. Does our investigation of the technique of Athenian vases help
to settle this question? Let us look first at the case in its broader
aspects.
Nobody can work long with Greek vases or other forms of Greek industrial
art without being impressed with the wonderful combination of beauty and
practical utility which these objects show. The Greek vases are not only
finely proportioned, but each one is admirably adapted to its purpose.
We need only try pouring from an oinochoë to see how easily the liquid
flows without any danger of spilling; or from a lekythos to see how the
oil trickles through the narrow neck, drop by drop, or in a very thin
stream, just right for cooking or the making of salad dressing. We need
only drink from a kylix to realize how, contrary to expectations, it is
an easy and delightful process—the little curve of the rim preventing the
liquid from spilling down one’s cheeks.[53] We need only closely observe
the handles of Greek vases to see how their positions, their curves, and
above all their extraordinary solidity render them eminently practical.
Moreover, the study of a hundred little details, the forms of the knobs
on pyxides, the projections for holding the lids in place, the outward
or inward curves of the lips, the substantial feet, all combine to form
overpowering evidence that these vases were designed for actual use. It
is only in isolated instances, such as the loutrophoroi which have no
bottoms or the white lekythoi which have no connection between the neck
and body, that this rule does not hold good. Such vases, however, belong
to clearly defined classes evidently made as votive offerings or as tomb
furniture.
That the bulk of vases were made for votive purposes, there is no real
evidence. Among the many sixth- and fifth-century inscriptions recording
such offerings there are few relating to pottery vases. Nor is it
conceivable that these vases were purely ornamental. We know that private
houses in Athens were at that period excessively simple, consisting
mostly of a courtyard and a few rooms opening on it, so that it is not
likely that people surrounded themselves with a lot of useless ornaments;
nor can we believe that in a period which, at least in the sixth century,
was still one of strenuous endeavor, these vases were exported to all
parts of the world merely as decorative bric-à-brac. Everything we know
of Greek life at that time points against such an assumption. Moreover,
if the Greeks had such decorations in their homes we should expect to
see, depicted in the vase paintings, cabinets or shelves with vases
displayed on them; instead, when vases are shown, they are invariably
in actual use, or hanging on a nail on the wall, ready for immediate
service.[54]
There is another consideration. Even if, from our modern point of view,
we may hesitate to believe that a beautiful cup of Euphronios was used
merely as a drinking vessel, where are we to draw the line? Any one who
has worked in a museum or has excavated on fifth-century sites knows
that besides the selected specimens exhibited in museum cases there are
a large number of inferior examples, hastily decorated, which could
hardly have been displayed as ornaments, but which are open to the same
objections raised against the vases of better workmanship.
And now let us examine these objections. First, the vases are supposed
to be too porous to contain liquid. The fineness of the clay, the polish
which was imparted to it, and perhaps the application of the ochre
tended to reduce this porosity somewhat. In the course of time the
deposit left by wine and oil would still further close the pores. In any
case, experiments show that Athenian vases do hold liquids without any
difficulty. The unglazed portions become damp, and a damp mark is left
on the table if the foot is not glazed; but in the days before highly
polished furniture there was no strong objection to that, and there was
on the other hand a very real advantage. For it allows a certain amount
of evaporation which would tend to cool the liquid—a very desirable thing
in a warm climate without a regulated ice supply. Any one who has tried
the experiment of keeping water in an unglazed jar in a warm room has
found that the evaporation keeps it delightfully cool. In southern Europe
today liquids are kept in that manner during the summer. We must also
remember that a large number of the early wares from the Bronze Age down,
as well as the commoner wares at all times, are either wholly unglazed
or have unglazed portions. And surely nobody wants to contend that these
vases were not manufactured for use.
The objection that Athenian pottery is fragile is easily disposed of.
Actual handling of the vases will show that they are anything but
fragile, in fact that they are remarkably strong. All those portions
which would get special wear, such as handles and rims, are almost always
stoutly made, more so than much of the china and earthenware and glass
we use today. Occasionally, of course, we get a very thin and delicate
example; and that would have to be handled with special care.
Then, as regards the question of wear. Terracotta is, as a matter of
fact, one of the most indestructible materials we have, and especially so
when glazed. Glazed earthenware, consequently, even though in constant
use shows little trace of wear. What little we should expect, a close
inspection of Athenian vases will reveal. The black glaze, even when
perfectly preserved on the exterior, is much worn on the interior of
stamnoi or kraters (cf. fig. 57), where the liquid came in constant
contact with the glaze, and the unglazed interiors of amphorai and
hydriai are certainly not perfectly fresh and unused looking. It is
also noteworthy that finely and poorly decorated vases are in the same
condition in this respect. A comparison with the Corean pottery of the
Korai period, 935-1392 A.D.,[55] which is known to have been made to
serve merely as tomb furniture, is helpful. The fresh and clean insides
of these vases offer a very different appearance from that of the
discolored interiors of Greek amphorai and hydriai—a clear proof that the
Athenian ware did not serve the same unutilitarian purpose as the Corean.
[Illustration: Fig. 57. Inside of krater showing extensive wear
Met. Mus. Acc. No. 07.286.74]
Lastly, regarding the argument about riveted vases, it is surely natural
now and then, instead of throwing away a broken pot, to have it put
together and make the best of it in its mended state. We do the same
thing nowadays. At all events, the vase could still have been used to
contain dry materials. Such Athenian vases with ancient rivet marks are
in any case infrequent, and do not compare in number with the broken
vases which have not been mended.
Such considerations should once for all explode the theory that Athenian
vases were not actually used; so that we can think of them, in the way
that appeals to our imagination, as serving in the daily life of the
Athenians and as adding to the enjoyment of that life, both by their
beauty and by their usefulness.
II. REPRESENTATIONS OF ANCIENT POTTERS
An important source of knowledge for the technique of Greek vases is
supplied by the representations of ancient potters at work and by
potter’s implements which have survived. It may be interesting to review
these and see what new interpretations experience at a modern pottery
school will suggest.
FASHIONING THE VASES
_1. Black-figured hydria in Munich._
Furtwängler u. Reichhold, Griechische Vasenmalerei, I, Text, p.
159.
Jahn, Beschreibung der Vasensammlung in der Pinakothek zu
München, No. 731.
[Illustration: Fig. 58. Athenian pottery establishment
Furtwängler u. Reichhold, _Griechische Vasenmalerei_, I, Text, p. 159]
An Athenian pottery establishment. To the left a man sits on a stool and
is holding with both hands an amphora on his lap; a boy (only the head
and one hand are preserved) is standing before him, placing one hand
on the body of the vase; the latter is painted black, that is, it has
already been glazed. The man has the air of inspecting it, while the boy
is apparently helping him hold it (since it is still in leather-hard
condition, it requires careful handling). The next group represents a man
throwing a tall vase on a wheel; a boy is sitting before him on a low
stool, turning the wheel with both hands at whatever speed is required.
The vase is so tall that the entire forearm of the potter is inserted;
while his other hand (now missing) was doubtless placed on the outside
of the vase, so that by the pressure of the two hands the pot might
acquire the necessary form and thickness. The vase is painted white to
show that it is as yet unglazed. A pair of calipers is hanging on the
wall ready for use, to enable the potter to check the heights and widths
of his products. To the right a youth is carefully carrying away a vase
that has just been thrown, to dry. A similar vase is already standing on
the other side of a column, drying in the open air or in a court. Both
vases are painted white to indicate their unglazed condition. Next we
see an old man walking leisurely with a stick. His dignified air is in
strong contrast to the busy absorption of the workmen. He is evidently
the overseer or proprietor of the pottery. To his right a tall youth is
carrying a heavy weight on his back, apparently a sack of charcoal. He is
bringing it to the kiln, which is being stoked by the fireman. The kiln
has a satyr head at the top to avert the evil eye and protect the pottery
from all danger during the firing.[56]
_2. Fragment of a Corinthian pinax in the Berlin Museum._
Antike Denkmäler, I, 1886, pls. 8, 17.
Furtwängler, Beschreibung der Vasensammlung in Berlin, I, No.
869.
[Illustration: Fig. 59. Potter throwing
_Antike Denkmäler_, I, pl. 8, No. 17]
A potter throwing a vase on a wheel, with both his hands placed on the
outer surface; only the two hands of the potter and the upper part of the
wheel with the vase are preserved.
_3. Red-figured fragment from the Akropolis in Athens._
Athenische Mittheilungen, XIV, 1889, p. 157.
[Illustration: Fig. 60. Potter throwing
_Athenische Mittheilungen_, 1889, p. 157]
A potter is sitting on a stool and throwing a vase on a wheel which is
being propelled by a boy; another man sits behind him with a krater on
his lap.
_4. Interior of a black-figured kylix in the British Museum._
British Museum, Guide to Greek and Roman Life (2d edition),
1920, p. 182, fig. 218.
Walters, Catalogue of the Greek and Etruscan Vases, II, B.432.
[Illustration: Fig. 61. Potter attaching handles
British Museum, _Guide to Greek and Roman Life_ (2d Edition), p. 182,
fig. 218]
A potter is sitting in front of his wheel on which a kylix is standing.
He is apparently engaged in attaching the handles. On a shelf above are
piled some more kylikes and a jug. The whole is very roughly painted.
_5. Corinthian black-figured pinax in the Museum of the Louvre._
Gazette archéologique, VI, 1880, p. 106, 3a.
[Illustration: Fig. 62. Potter incising lines (?)
_Gazette archéologique_, 1880, p. 106 (3a)]
A potter is sitting before his wheel propelling it with one hand. He is
working on what appears to be a one-handled jug. He is not “throwing”
or “turning” it, since it already has its handle attached. Perhaps he
is incising horizontal lines on it, for which process he could easily
propel his own wheel. On the wall hang two other jugs (with similar
incised lines), and some plates (?) are stacked on the floor.
_6. Corinthian pinax in the Berlin Museum._
Antike Denkmäler, I, 1886, pl. 8, 14b.
Furtwängler, Beschreibung der Vasensammlung in Berlin, I, No.
885.
[Illustration: Fig. 63. Potter joining sections (?)
_Antike Denkmäler_, I, pl. 8, No. 14b]
A man is sitting in front of a tall globular vase on a high foot. He is
not throwing it, for there is no indication of a wheel. Perhaps he is
joining the sections of a tall vase, some of which are already in place,
while one part lies on the floor waiting to be attached. But the whole
scene is so roughly painted that it is impossible even to know definitely
that a potter is represented.
_7. Interior of a red-figured kylix, Berlin Museum No. 2542._
Rayet et Collignon, Histoire de la céramique grecque, p. XVII,
fig. 7.
[Illustration: Fig. 64. Boy finishing vase
Rayet et Collignon, _Histoire de la Céramique grecque_ p. XVII, fig. 7]
A boy is sitting with a cup (kotyle) in one hand and an implement in the
other, evidently engaged in a finishing process. Perhaps he is removing
the surplus clay after the handles have been attached; for the vase is as
yet unglazed and is left in the red color of the clay, in contrast to the
black kotyle and oinochoë on the stand close by.
_8. Terracotta statuette of a potter in the British Museum._
British Museum, Guide to Greek and Roman Life (2d edition),
1920, p. 181, fig. 216.
[Illustration: Fig. 65. Potter building a vase
British Museum, _Guide to Greek and Roman Life_ (2d Edition), p. 181,
fig. 216]
A man is represented in a crouching attitude apparently engaged in
building a pot.
DECORATING THE VASES
_1. Red-figured hydria in Ruvo._
Annali dell’Instituto, 1876, pl. DE.
[Illustration: Fig. 66. Athena and Victories crowning potters at work
_Annali dell’Instituto_, 1876, pl. DE]
Athena and two Victories crowning potters at work. To the left is a
potter sitting on a low stool and engaged in decorating a volute krater;
he is holding a brush in his closed fist in Japanese fashion, and is
looking in surprise at the Nike who is crowning him; by his side are two
paint pots. In front of him another workman, comfortably seated on a
chair, is busily painting a kantharos which he holds tipped on his lap.
He also holds the brush in his fist downwards. Another kantharos and an
oinochoë stand on the floor, awaiting their turn to be decorated; on a
low stand close by are two paint pots, one with its lid tipped against
the side. The artist is completely absorbed in his work and has not
yet discovered Athena, the patron of arts and crafts, approaching him
with a wreath. Behind Athena a third workman is seated on a low stool,
decorating a bell krater with a palmette design. He tips up the vase
with one hand, holds the brush firmly in his fist, and has his paint
pot within easy reach on the floor. A Nike is about to crown him with
a wreath; but he, too, is entirely engrossed in his work and quite
unconscious of the honor to be conferred on him. Completing the scene
on the right is a girl on a low platform painting the handle of a large
volute krater. The figure is of special interest today, for it shows that
there were women potters then as now. Above her on the wall are suspended
a kantharos and a lekythos. The whole scene is of great importance as the
most representative we possess of ancient vase painters at work.
_2. Red-figured kylix in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston._
Hartwig, Jahrbuch des Instituts, XIV, 1899, pl. 4.
[Illustration: Fig. 67. Youth decorating kylix
Hartwig, _Jahrbuch des Instituts_, 1899, pl. IV]
A youth is sitting on a stool, holding a kylix by the foot and decorating
the outside of it with what looks like a brush with long bristles,
though it has also been identified as a feather (by Hartwig). In the hand
that grasps the kylix is a pointed instrument which has been identified
by Hartwig as the implement with which the preliminary sketch was drawn.
The attitude of the painter suggests the quiet absorption required by a
delicate task. Behind the youth is his knotted staff, and on the wall
hang his oil flask and strigil.
_3. Fragment of a red-figured kylix, found on the Akropolis,
Athens._
Hartwig, Jahrbuch des Instituts, XIV, 1899, p. 154, fig. 2.
[Illustration: Fig. 68. Potter glazing kylix
Hartwig, _Jahrbuch des Instituts_, 1899, pl. 154, fig. 2]
A potter glazing the inside of a kylix as it rotates on the wheel. A
woman appears to be crowning him with a wreath.
_4. Corinthian pinax in the Berlin Museum._
Antike Denkmäler, I, pl. 8, No. 18.
Furtwängler, Beschreibung der Vasensammlung zu Berlin, I, No.
868.
[Illustration: Fig. 69. Potter painting bands on a krater
Antike Denkmäler, I, pl. 8, No. 18]
A potter is sitting on a stool before his wheel, apparently in the act
of painting broad black bands on a column krater while the vase is
revolving.
_5. Red-figured bell-krater in the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford._
Beazley, Journal of Hellenic Studies, XXVIII, 1908, pl. XXXII,
A.
[Illustration: Fig. 70. Three youths, one painting a krater
Beazley, _Journal of Hellenic Studies_, XXVIII (1908), pl. XXXII, A.]
To the left a youth is sitting on a stool painting the outside of a
bell krater. He is steadying the vase with his left arm placed inside
the krater, while he lets the rim rest on his lap. By his side is a low
stand with a skyphos evidently containing the paint. A second workman
is carrying off another krater to the right. He may be going to fetch
some water or wine in it, for it is evidently a completed, fired vase,
otherwise he would not be carrying it by the handles. A third workman
is moving in the same direction holding up a skyphos, perhaps to get
more paint or some water or wine to drink. A krater standing on the
ground completes the scene. On the wall hang some implements of the
potter’s trade, identified by Beazley from the original as (1) a kylix
for drinking, (2) a mortar for grinding the ingredients of the glaze,
(3) a brush case, (4) a bowl to contain liquid glaze, (5) a strainer for
sieving the glaze.
_6. Bœotian black-figured skyphos in the Polytechnion in
Athens._
Found in Lokris.
Blümner, _Athenische Mittheilungen_, XIV, 1889, p. 151.
[Illustration: Fig. 71. Pottery establishment
Blümner, _Athenische Mittheilungen_, XIV, 1889, p. 151]
The master of the pottery is sitting with a kylix in one hand, while
with the other he is trying to beat a slave who is running off with
three skyphoi. Three other skyphoi are on the ground, while a kantharos
and a skyphos are near by on a shelf. Another workman is inspecting a
skyphos he has just glazed; a paint pot and brush are on a low stand by
his side. He takes no notice of a scene which is taking place close by,
a man beating a slave suspended from the ceiling. The workmanship is
very crude, and if it is a product of the pottery establishment which it
depicts, it is a fair sample of the work we might expect from a place run
on such methods!
FIRING THE VASES
_1-10 Votive tablets or pinakes found at Penteskuphia near
Corinth, dating 650-550 B.C. (figs. 72-80). Nos. 73-78, 80 are
in the Berlin Museum; Nos. 72, 79 in the Museum of the Louvre._
Antike Denkmäler, I, 1886, pl. 8, Nos. 1, 4, 12, 15, 19b,
21, 22, 26 (Furtwängler, Beschreibung der Vasensammlung zu
Berlin, I, Nos. 608, 802, 616, 893, 909, 827, 611). Gazette
archéologique, VI, 1880, p. 105 (1), p. 106 (1).
[Illustration: Figs. 72-73. Potters stoking the fire
_Antike Denkmäler_, I, pl. 8, 26.
_Gazette archéologique_, VI, p. 105.]
_Representations of potter’s kilns._
The kilns are domed, and have three openings, one at the bottom for the
fuel, one on the side for the insertion of the ware and to act as a
spy-hole, and one at the top to let out the smoke and for the regulation
of the draught. On figs. 72-79, the firemen are busy stoking the fire,
and climbing to the top of the kiln to manipulate the draught-hole with
a hooked implement; for the flames are seen emerging at the top, which
means that heat is being wasted. Fig. 80 shows the inside of a kiln, in
horizontal section, with two openings for the fire, each opening having
two channels into the kiln. The vases should of course stand upright,
but the painter naturally found it difficult to depict them in the right
perspective looking at them from the top.
[Illustration: Figs. 74-79. Potters regulating draught
_Antike Denkmäler_, I, pl. 8, Nos. 4, 12, 1, 21, 22; _Gazette
archéologique_, VI, p. 106.]