Wednesday, February 22, 2012

My First German Pottery Class

I've posted about German ceramic art and craft before, i.e. that art and craft being are very separate things here, and the hobbyist is left to take weekly class at the Volkshochschule (VHS - community college).  Partly in response to M imploring me to please get out of the house and 'do something' (blogging, apparently, does not count as 'doing something'), I signed up for a pottery course at the VHS.

There is an advanced class, but of course, that one meets on Wednesdays, when Z and J have soccer practice, so I signed up for the Monday (beginner-to-wherever-you-are) class.  I figured this probably corresponded nicely to the class I have regularly attended at Claymakers in Durham (btw Liz: shouldn't CM have a .org URL now?).  The CM Tuesday class has a pretty regular group of attendees, and an extremely informal syllabus (essentially, we just make requests and our wonderful mentor, Deborah Harris, demonstrates).  It's a great group, and there are usually a couple of newcomers to add to the fun.

So, off I was last night.  I left at dusk, in the car with the primitive transmission, and I drove into downtown Kiel.  Here is a map of Kiel:


Ok, that is an exaggeration, I admit.  But the concept of a grid has clearly not occurred to anyone here.  This is what it really looks like:




View Larger Map

I actually found my way there, almost accidentally.  On the few intersections where signs can be found, they have such tiny print and are so filthy, I have no chance of reading them.  I pray for a red light so I can focus, squint, and guess where I am... but I got lucky this time.

I found the school, went in the door, and there was a very nice woman there, offering directions.  I think  she asked if she could help me.  I shrugged, as I wondered if she actually could.  "Toepfer Wirkstatt?", I managed.  (Actually, what I really said was "Topfeh Wirkstatt", as the American in me cannot produce umlaut sounds, and the New Yorker in me has trouble with terminal r's.)  She pointed down the stairs, and lucky me, there it was.  I went in and sat a desk (part of a collection arranged in a round).  No one else was there yet - I had left early upon anticipation of getting lost, stalling all the way there, or both.

I scanned the room.  About 10 kickwheels... ohhh wait... there are 3 electric wheels.  I couldn't help but think, "I was here first.  I want a Shimpo."  The class filed in slowly.  A whole bunch of newbies, like me, sitting at the tables and waiting.  Then the Three Wise Women (TWW) arrived.  These are the 'repeat offenders', like my alter ego at Claymakers.  They came in and got to work immediately, glazing works presumably from the class last semester.

The teacher came in - a very young woman (very young = more than 15 years younger than me... gets older every year.) - named Julia.  She seemed very sweet, only slightly timid.  I understood about 15% of what she said, mostly things like 'clay cost 7 euro' and 'glazing is 15 euro' (for the entire kiln, so, pretty cheap).  Then people started to get up and move.  I had been quietly waiting for the part where we go around the table and introduce ourselves, and I get to publicly butcher German grammar, sentence structure and mispronounce everything.  But it didn't happen.  Now what?  The teacher has no idea that I haven't understood a whole lot of what she said - and - more importantly - I WANT A SHIMPO  (are there dibs?  how do I claim mine?).  "Entschuldigung.... Ich (Ik) komme aus Amerika, und mein Deutsch is schlect...", stares, some smiles, an awkward silence... "Ummm... Kann Ich dieses toepferscheibe... ummm.... wie heisst 'use' auf Deutsch?"  Somehow, the teacher understood and said that we can use whichever we like (of course, with 13 people and 3 electric... anyways, I put my tools and towels by one of the Shimpos.)

Next, the class moved into the room where the clay is kept, but none of the beginners took a bag, so I asked one of the TWW.  I had printed out a very handy English-German pottery dictionary, so I could ask for smooth (weich), white (weiss) clay (ton), without grog (ohne Chamotte).  There was only 1 option, 25 % grog :(  Looks like I will be exfoliating my fingertips for a while...

Another woman introduced herself, in English!  She was married to a New Zealander for many years, and speaks absolutely fluent English!  Lovely!  And, her kids (age 11 and 13) are English-German bilingual.  This is really the perfect situation.  Most of the class and the instructor do not speak English (means I get to practice), but if I am completely at a loss, there is a life-vest available.  Yay!

Finally, I sat down with the clay, and 'warmed up' with some cylindrical forms.  I had thrown a few, when the instructor stopped by and apologized that she does not speak English very well.  I (hopefully) made it clear that I had no expectation that she speak to me in English - we are, after all, in Germany!  She asked if I 'just try' to throw (i.e. without explanation), and I gestured toward the pots I had already made...  Ich kann nicht so gut sprechen, aber Ich kann toepfer machen!  I also explained that my husband told me to 'get out', and so I ended up there, in the ceramic studio.   This brought laughter from the TWW, one of whom lived in France for a while, but does not speak French.

This is going to be fun.

Wow, this is a long post.  If you have made it this far, I will reward you by ending here!

2 comments:

  1. I'm looking forward to more of this. Love your map.

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  2. Go, Janice. Get out of the house, often and long. You have the freedom. As an American you almost never can go wrong. People love to see you there. Ignore the occasional sour puss, they have been living with those grey months for the entire life. German cities grew from small to large, hence the lack of a grid. A Falkplan (actually useful city map) comes in handy. The weather in NC is weird, tornado threat in February. Go Janice go.

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