NERIKOMI

Clearly I am sheltered in my little antiseptic world. I had no idea people were using rolling pins in the building for reasons other than pies… 

This week in the far end of Middle School, our resourceful art teacher was directing a pottery class for eighth grade girls.  The clay in their imaginative hands was forged by nerikomi method, the art of combining two low fire clays. 

This creative process is no small undertaking.  It began when our sister school discarded some dried-up old white clay. The undertaking progressed when local potter Royce Yoder shared the white clay with aforementioned art teacher Mrs. Keppley and taught her this unique method.  For people like me who try to eschew manual labor, the “method” these enterprising folks used sounds perfectly and horribly exhausting.  It involved a physical workout of slab cutting, clay stacking (the old white with the newer more user-friendly red earthenware) adding water, and slamming around some unwieldy 25 pound cubes of this newly combined material to attain a workable united medium. (Strenuous work, but it sounds like a constructive way to release angst, no?)

The slabs were ready to go and our students were hard at work in all stages of marbleized slab pot formation when I stopped by to see what was happening. 

Several girls were industriously rolling out clay, some imprinting their soft earthenware clay with freshly picked maple leaves.  

Others (somewhat entertainingly) were visibly suffering with rolling pins in hand. Sydney, for one, was attempting to flatten a particularly thick and stubborn slab of clay. Undaunted, she fought with that clay for the entire length of my visit.  The tenacious clay was not easily beaten into submission and Sydney’s biceps will likely be painfully recalling her efforts tomorrow. 

Olivia’s pot was fabulously adorned, having been transformed through the pressing of actual lace onto her clay.

Amy and Shaina’s pots sported smooth straight walls. 

All of the pots will twice be glazed and sent into the kiln for firing.





As a school nurse who has never managed to coerce a recognizable shape from a canister of malleable Play-Dough, watching these young artists and their teacher was a wonderfully enlightening ten minute diversion from Band-Aid application.