One recent Sunday, we Mews Coachworkers had the pleasure of zooming down the motorway to the Clay Studio in East Sussex. A long awaited Raku firing awaited, shrouded in mystery for most of us who had never done one. We arrived with a couple of bisqued pieces each and fell into Eunice and Helen's experienced hands for the day.
Raku firing is a wild sort of alchemy, originating in Japan in the 16th century. Pieces are removed from the Raku kiln while red hot and then traditionally allowed to cool in the open air, though 20th century studio potters developed a Western version where works are placed into a container of combustible materials to provide a reduction firing environment. Pieces are then plunged into cold water, abruptly halting the firing process. Results are spontaneous, unknown, mad.
On this day, we glazed our work in special Raku glazes and Eunice and Helen loaded the kilns, grouping pieces by colour. We watched as the kilns rapidly fired up and were soon cracked open to reveal our bright orange forms, almost translucent with heat. Medieval-looking tongs took hold of them one by one and plunged them each into a metal bin full of sawdust. It was sweaty work in the May sun for Eunice and Helen, who have been Raku firing together for many years. They work in a flowing synchronicity despite the heat, the eager audience and the various temperatures to control. We wondered and waited and lusted after our pieces, hoping for some brilliance.
The resulting works were iridescent and unexpected, shimmering through the water as we rinsed the clumps of sawdust off in buckets of water. We cooed and compared between ourselves, turning the forms this way and that to reveal new lines snaking their way across the surface, or coppery tints, or how the pearly glaze glinted in the light.
We returned to London clutching our favourite pieces, or at least I did, fitting my thumb into a shiny hollow in a curvy little dish I had made.

By Nicole Douglas -Morris