As I mentioned previously, there are two pieces of mine in the NCECA “Potters as Sculptors; Sculptors as Potters” show currently up at Mesa Community College (see the Three Star Owl Events page for details).  One of them is the long-evolving “Toadstack” (the other is Venomosity which can currently be viewed on the Home page.) As promised, here is the entire Toadstack story in pictures, culminating in the final state of the piece.  They go from L to R and Top to Bottom; don’t forget you can click on an image to enlarge it:

and the finished piece, Stacked Toad Teapot Effigy (Toadlier than Teapotly):

This show is associated with the annual NCECA (National Council on Education for the Ceramic Arts) Convention, which opens in town tomorrow (Wed 8 April).  From now until Saturday, Phoenix will be popping with potters, sculptors, and ceramic arts educators.  The downtown Phoenix Convention Center is the main venue, where the discussions, demos, lectures, and exhibitors will be located.  There’s a fee to attend that part of the conference, but there are many many galleries, museums and other display venues which have shows up featuring the work of both nationally known and local clay artists, and these shows are FREE AND OPEN TO THE PUBLIC.

So if you like looking at the broad range of contemporary ceramic artwork and what’s being made in America today in clay, check out the NCECA website for lists of and maps to the concurrent shows and outlying venues which are all over the metro area.  Principal show clusters are located in Tempe, in and around the ASU Campus; Mesa, at both the Community College and the Arts Center; downtown Phoenix in the hotels around the Convention Center; and Scottsdale, in the Old Town Arts District, a fun and stimulating place to visit anyway.  It’s a great time in Phoenix to Get Out and See Art.

And?  Then Sunday evening, a warm, calm, acacia-fragrant evening while it was still light, I looked down on the Nid from the upstairs window, and saw Fascinating Behavior.  The first was a definite look at a dark, fuzzy head with a now orange-yellow bill restlessly moving in and out of sight from the depths of the Nid.  This was very exciting.  Then nothing for several minutes — the Hen was away for quite a while on this outing.  It gave me a chance to study the inner edge of the far side of the Nid, and think how clean it was: no poop.  I realized I’d never seen a hummer carrying a white fecal sac away from a nest, like many songbirds do to keep their nests clean: food in, fecal sacs out.  I wondered if a nestling hummer produced a fecal sac that was just so small I’d never noticed.  Just then a gray fuzzy lumpish shape appeared over the rim: a second nestling!… but, no — it has no face?  What…? Then: SPLORTCH!  Like a jet of ‘baccy juice from the lips of a cartoon hillbilly, a tiny projectile squirt came shooting over the rim of the nest and arced towards the ground.  So that’s how it’s done!  No fecal sacs here for mom to cart away, just a butt-skywards and a quick squeeze, and business has been taken care of.

The second event was the Hen returning.  And, to my relief and fulfilled expectation, she perched on the edge of the nest and pointed her beak downward.  Just like in the nature films, two little heads rose up to meet her, and she poked her bill down one gullet and then the other, dispensing yummy liquid Gnat-in-Nectar stew to each Nidling in turn, the bigger one going first.

To the right is a close-up of an Anna’s hummingbird stamp on a Three Star Owl “Hummingbirds of Arizona” cylindrical vessel.  (Both photos: A.Shock)

No pictures of any of this excitement.  I’ll try, but I’ve decided to paper over the window until fledging.  It would be awful if our voyeurism, or the cats, who love to sit and “read the backyard newspaper” from this window, caused her to abandon the nest.  I’ll leave a flap to peek through, like an impromptu blind, and maybe before long I’ll manage to get a photo.  The best I can do is leave you with this link to someone else’s photo of exactly what I saw.

It’s confirmed — the Hen’s egg(s) has/ve hatched!

This afternoon (Thursday April 2) just after one pm, I was finally able to catch the Hen away from the Nid — she’d been sitting tighter than usual this morning — and could look down on the nest from the upper window.  The first discovery was that the black thing on the rim of the nest is not a tiny beak; it’s just crud.  Having established that, I was about to put the binoculars down because the nest looked entirely empty. Just a second before lowering my arms, though, there was movement: a little yellow-gaped head briefly poked up, wavered around a little, and then dropped back in.  I kept watching, and saw the movement repeated a couple of times.  Once there may have been a glimpse of a second yellow gape (two would be the usual number of nestlings for Anna’s hummers), but I can’t be certain.  In between sightings the nest looked perfectly empty.  I determined to watch until the Hen came home.  After a couple of minutes she did, and just settled right in on top of her hatchling(s), no feeding, just sitting.  It/they disappeared entirely under her.  The nestling(s) must be very very newly hatched, because the little bill was still so very short and entirely yellow.  The head supporting the beak was pink and unfinished-looking.

I have no pictures yet of the ‘ling(s), but here’s yet another of the Hen from earlier in the day.  For now, you’ll have to imagine there are brand new pink-scalped dino-nestlings under her.  (Digiscoped photo A. Shock)

…a little pointy beak?

Here is this morning’s photo of the Anna’s hummingbird Hen on her Nid.  I began looking very carefully for evidence of nestlings yesterday, April 1, since that was my estimate of the earliest her eggs might hatch.  This morning, I checked first thing, and still didn’t see any sign of young birds.  But on examination of this digiscoped photo, there’s a tiny dash of a black line visible at the rim of the nest, showing against her gray fluffy undertail coverts.  Is it or isn’t it a little beak?  I can’t tell.

I’ll check back on the Nid when the Hen is away; more might be visible.  Stay tuned.

(Photo A.Shock)

The final increments of the imperturbable Stacked Toad Teapot Effigy (or Toadstack for short) have been completed, and after months of being alternately obsessed on and ignored, left alone and detailed, the piece is finished and ready for its destination.  Here are its last two phases: a final coat of white terra sigillata (super-fine suspension of clay in water), and smoke-firing.

The Toadstack looks bleached because it’s had a second layer of terra sigillata brushed onto it, and lightly buffed back, so it remains mostly in the low points of the textures.  Terra sigillata is slip — clay and water and sometimes a mineral colorant — but the clay particles in it are finer than regular slip mixtures, so the surface can be buffed with a cloth or even the fingers to a satiny sheen.  The second photo is for later comparison: it’s a close-up of the skin of the red-spotted toad: if all goes as planned, what’s white will turn smokey brown-black, and what’s red will be a mix of red and black randomly.

Next the Toadstack is loaded into the galvanized trash can “kiln”.  Surrounded by shredded paper and sawdust of two chunkinesses, and some pine twigs and needles from the Hen’s tree, it will be completely covered before lighting.  Here in Phoenix you’ve got to remember to call Maricopa County Air Quality hotline before ignition to make sure there are no wood-burning bans in place, which this night, there weren’t.  The weather was perfect: cool, and with only a light breeze and no burn-bans, so I torched the can.  The dry combustibles burn fairly fast and sweet-smelling because I use both cedar chips and mesquite twigs from our trees, so within a couple of hours the smoke has dwindled to nearly nothing.  But even after the fire burns down, the heat is still fierce.  If the pieces were to be removed into the cool air they could crack, so I clamp the can’s lid on and let them cool overnight.  The next morning I opened the “kiln”, and unpacked the pieces.  The kiln fates were kind, and no cracks or other problems found, so the Toadstack was taken inside and cleaned up a bit for photographing.  Here is the comparison close-up of the Red-spotted toad’s skin — all is well, and the smoke has made its dramatic and unpredictable changes:

The Stacked Toad Teapot Effigy is destined to be shown at the “Potters as Sculptors, Sculptors as Potters” show organized by St. Louis artist James Ibur at NCECA this year, so it’s hardly fair to unveil it before the opening.  The exhibition will be at:

Mesa Community College, 1833 W. Southern Avenue, 480-461-7524.  Navajo Room, Kirk Student Center  Apr 6-11, 2009.  Mon-Fri 9:00a.m.- 5:00p.m., Sat 9:00a.m.- 2:00p.m.

Potters as Sculptors; Sculptors as Potters: artists included are Dan Anderson, Jeri Au, Dan Barnett, Chris Berti, Victor Bassman, Peter Beasecker, Gina Bobrowski, Susan Bostwick, Joe Bova, Andy Brayman, Wayne Branum, Bill Broulliard, Richard Burkett, Doug Casebeer, Joe Chesla, Linda Christiansen, Eddie Dominguez, Renee Deall, Josh DeWeese, Paul Dresang, Rick Dunn, Tim Eberhardt, Shanna Fliegel, Debra Fritts, Gloria Fuchs, Julia Galloway, Pete Halladay, Sam Harvey, Rick Hensley, Jason Hess, Eric Hoefer, James Ibur, Nick Joerling, Steve Lee, Jimmy Liu, Beth Lo, Allegheny Meadows, Ron Meyers, Boomer Moore, Eric Nichols, Brooke Noble, Lisa Orr, Donna Polseno, Liz Quackenbush, Ruth Reese, Dave Regan, Don Reitz, Allison Shock, Chris Staley, Richard Swanson, Kurt Weiser, Matt Wilt, Betty Woodman, Russell Wrankle, and Luo Xioping.  Utility is the core concept of the show: How does a person working in clay approach it if that is the primary focus of their work?  If it is not, how do they perceive function when it is juxtaposed against their non-functional art?  Many ceramic artists explore and/or exist equally in both the world of function and sculpture.  In this exhibition, the artists will be exhibiting work that explores both of these ideas by presenting two pieces of their work.  Organized by James Ibur.

I’m exhibiting two pieces, the Stacked Toad Teapot Effigy (Toadlier than Teapotly), and Venomosity, a Gila-monster inspired Beastie vessel.

There will be a free reception, open to the public, on the evening of Friday April 10, in the Navajo Room (location, above). Everyone’s invited!

If you can’t make the reception at the Mesa Community College, you’ll have to wait for one Final Increment on this website…  Until then, here is a sneak preview of Venomosity ➤➤

Here is the Hen today, sitting tight on her tiny cup nest built on two pine cones in our backyard Aleppo Pine.  She fills the whole opening like a cork, horizontally oriented.  Usually we see hummers either air-born or perched, in vertical orientation: it’s the horizontal arrangement, with her tail sticking out behind her and her back practically parallel to the ground, that makes her so Henlike.

She sits absolutely still for long stretches of time, with only the blink of her tiny eyelid to give away her presence.

I’ve been peeking up at the Hen infrequently, so as not to stress her with “eyeball pressure”.  She seems to be on-Nid most of the day.  I’ve tried a couple of times to catch her away from the nest, looking down on the Nid-bough from an upper bedroom window, to try to see eggs, but she’s always been there, strongly suggesting there are.  (The views from above are through a screen, so efforts at pictures from there have been unsatisfactory.)

Assuming she’s incubating now, and has been for a day or two — I’ll use 16 March as an estimated laying date — she will sit on her eggs with no help from the male for about 14 -19 days.  The young will fledge around the 23rd to the 26th day.  That would mean if the nest succeeds (and my calcuations are in the ballpark) the eggs should hatch around April 1, and the young will be in the nest for about another week after that.  That puts the Hen right at the peak of Anna’s breeding phenology according to the Arizona Breeding Bird Atlas, which shows nesting records for the species in the state peak around the start of the month, with a second shorter peak near the beginning of May.

While she’s incubating, an Anna’s female will leave the eggs periodically to feed, primarily on tiny insects like gnats, but fueled with nectar from flowers or sugar water feeders.  We’re keeping our feeders well-stocked and particularly clean (thanks, E!), with the first hot weather of the year.  The garden is more than doing its part, with hummer favorites like penstemon, aloes, desert lavender and above all, chuparosa all in peak bloom.

(Digiscoped photo A. Shock)

Much building activity: as of today the Anna’s hummingbird hen in our Aleppo pine is still finessing her nid.  This morning, she could be seen bustling and fussing at the site (yes, I anthropomorphize, get over it please, I’m not an ornithologist!), making frequent trips away and to, coming back with light-colored fibers, some of which could be seen stuck to her beak in the morning sun.

Beautiful looks through the scope, but focus continues to be a challenge with the camera, as my digiscoping is low-tech (camera lens hand-held to scope eye-piece).  Above is a new shot from this morning.  It’s an action shot, with the downwards-pointed bill apparently in the act of applying fluffy material to the outside of the nest and smoothing it.  The nest is getting taller, and very slightly narrower.

To the left is a photo from this afternoon, where the Hen is screened through the needles at the top of the cones.  Again, click on the photo to enlarge it a little.  You can see her scattering of throat-spangles, which look black because the sun is on her other side.

She seems to be sitting tighter now than in the middle of the day.  Anna’s will sometimes lay before the nest is complete, or rather, continue improving the nest even as they are incubating.

(This photo is with a 250mm lens, not digiscoped, and focus seems a little easier, although obstructions like pine needles are still a bit of a problem for photography, clever nest concealment though they are).

More as it happens, or if I get better pics.

(All photos A. Shock)

The Anna’s hummingbird hen is on the nest! This morning I saw her bringing small beakfuls of fluffy white material like spider web or some kind of aerial seeds and adding them. She would then settle in the cup of the nest, and wiggle a little, as if to get the shape perfect, and run her bill across the outer surface of the nest in what looked like a smoothing gesture.  Being a clever little hen, she’s chosen her site well — it’s hard to see from either above or below, but here is a picture, not well digiscoped but recognizable.

The tiny nest is built on the top of a pair of pinecones about ten feet off the ground.  Though the angle of the photo is from below, you can see the well-compacted mix of material packed onto the cones, with the hen’s little head and beak (pointing to the right) above it.

We have the scope set up a reasonable distance away from the spot on a walkway below the pine, and we can check on her throughout the day. We don’t know if she’s incubating yet, although as I mentioned, construction was still underway earlier today.  Stay tuned!

Photo by A. Shock.

The Stacked Toad Teapot Effigy is alive and well, so far.

After languishing at the back of a shelf in the studio for many weeks wrapped in damp paper towels and layers and layers of plastic film, the Stacked Toad Teapot Effigy has finally been fully sculpted and is drying, awaiting further surface treatment (terra sigillata and slips) and firings.  Between the last episode and now, I’ve added a new under-toad hanging upside down off of the main toad’s belly, and refined the detail of the piece, textured all the toads, and cleaned up the crannies.

If you’re having a tough time seeing why it’s a teapot effigy (and it is Toadlier than Teapotly), here’s a visual aid:

Remember the issue of pentadactyly in the studio and the fact that unlike the majority of tetrapods toads have only 4 digits on their front pair of limbs?  Here are the final numbers:  Potential (actual biological) toe count: 7 (# of toads) x 18 (# of toes each toad has) = 126!!  One hundred and twenty six toes on a piece that’s less than 12″ tall!  Yikes!  Does it have 126 toad toes?  No: Actual toe count = 108:   This is known as artistic license which can also be expressed as Biological digit defecit: 14.3%.  A close call! — it’s generally considered that greater than 15% and it becomes Grossly Inaccurate (over 25% and it’s just Wrong). There are, however, the requisite number of paratoid glands — 14 — in case you were wondering.  And, the flying insect “finial” has no toes at all — too tiny.