July 15th and 22nd
The email I received from Kathy Kavanaugh read:
“I live in the woods 7 miles outside of ‘downtown Mathias”’(good luck finding that). There are a couple of creeks to ford on the way in, although one is dry now. The other one has some water but not much, and both have rocky bottoms so mud is not an issue. On the other hand, the road is dirt and bumpy. You don’t need 4-wheel drive but you will need a vehicle with some clearance, and give yourself some time to traverse the mile and a third. If you find really rustic roads daunting we can meet you where you can park before the first creek in the hayfield.”
Kathy opens her studio to five or six students once each year in the summer, offering a class through the Lost River Education Foundation. I was excited when I heard about the class–Kathy’s studio is a site that has been integral to a number of local artists who now make and sell pottery in the Lost River Valley at arts fairs and other venues.
Getting to Kathy’s studio is part of the charm.
Directions to Kathy Kavanaugh’s studio:
If you are on Corridor H; exit at Baker.
Turn toward Baker on old Route 55. At the BP (Corner Mart) , turn onto WV 259 south.
Stay on 259 through Lost City and until you get to Mathias.
Look for the old log cabin on your right. Just prior to the log cabin (the Mathias homestead), turn right onto Howards’ Lick Road.
In about a mile, look for Jenkins Hollow Road on the left. If you land in Lost River State Park, turn around and go back to Jenkins Hollow Road.
Take Jenkins Hollow Road to its end. Watch for deer, particularly does and fawns; there are many out this time of year.
Turn right onto Cullers Run Road. Stay on that over the little crooked bridge (the bridge is contoured to match the creek rather than the road—very West Virginia.)
Look for Perry Whetzel Road on the right. This is a dirt road. We live 1.3 miles from the mail boxes there.
Stay on Perry Whetzel Road over the bridge and past the green cottage.
Where Perry Whetzel Road forks and goes up the mountain, take the low road: Hidden Hollow.
Stay on Hidden Hollow Road through the creek (presently dry) and woods (past the gas line road) and then past the sign for 1514 (old cabin owned by our partnership). Just stay along the creek until you see our red barn at the junction of Hidden Hollow Road and Jesse Landis Lane. Ford the creek and veer left toward the Airstream trailer. You can park anywhere around the trailer. My studio is in the red barn.
Sinking In, Loving Clay
I was a little late to the first class, as I had a board meeting to attend at the Artist’s Coop. When I arrived, the other students–Austin and Brian, who I learned quickly were actually my neighbors and another woman who is the neighbor of a friend of ours (the Lost River Valley is so, so small)–were already working away on vases and bowls and boxes. There was the dusty smell of clay in the air and the thick silence characteristic of artists deep in their work.
I chose to make a platter. Kathy gave me a big block of white clay, a metal platter about the size that I wanted mine to be (for a form), and showed me to the pressing table, where I could flatten the clay into a slab.
There’s something really special about working clay on a warm summer day in an open building with a cement floor. Every so often a bumble bee or a fly or a hummingbird would buzz by or two hummers would tussle over sipping-rights at the feeder. The warm breeze would lift the table cloth and stir up dust on the floor. The branches and flowers and leaves of the garden nodded and swayed.
After pressing the clay into a flat round-ish slab, I found a few summer wild flowers and a fern in the field to push into the surface of the clay. . . I had to work quickly, because the day’s heat was drying the clay to leather hardness more quickly than I could work. I gave up on hoping for perfectly smooth and rounded edges because of this. The lip of the platter would just have to be ragged and inconsistent–I was relearning skills I hadn’t used for decades, perfect was not the goal.
I ended the first day of class by incising my initials and stamping a star into the bottom of the platter. Then, I set my piece on the shelf to await firing in the kiln. I always feel a little thrill when I do that–you never know how it will look when fired and the piece will change again when glazed.
Glazing
The next Saturday, I returned to Kathy’s and filed as much of the unevenness out of the edges of the platter as I could (dusty work <achoooo!>), then glazed the platter. I was hoping for a more consistent blue on the surface of the platter, but ended up with a very mottled and uneven surface. The ferns and flowers are visible, but the blue and white glaze are splotchy and the blue is not as dark as I thought it would be.
Upon pick up, I was excited to see what the platter had turned out to look like. But, it looked nothing like what I’d imagined or tried to set up.
Still, I was less disappointed with all of the imperfections of the piece than determined to try again with a different vision next time around. I might choose to do a platter again, but perhaps with a more obviously and exaggeratedly dramatic lip that would make the raggedness a feature.
I had wanted to make sure the black plant stems/leaves showed through and over corrected a bit too much. Because the clear glaze did not cover the full surface of the platter, I decided to use the platter in the garden instead of in the kitchen. I think it’s a cool piece, but it is nowhere near what I expected it would look like.
A Terrific Learning Experience
I’ll keep my eyes open for an opportunity to try my hand at hand building again. And to enjoy Kathy’s warmth, wonderful sense of humor, and knowledge of the area and its people.
The best feature of this class was spending time in Kathy’s studio with some neighbors I had only just met, having the chance to talk with Kathy about her professional and historical work, (she is a medical anthropologist with a lengthy career history working with undergraduates). Her work with quilts in the area–specifically signature quilts–her extensive background with the Artist’s cooperative and the Lost River Museum, and her stories of life, wildlife, and people in the area added some wonderful color to the class. We chatted historical projects in the valley and I came away knowing more about the place I now call home.
Writing Lost River 