Community kiln · North Fremantle · Gas reduction · 40 ft³

The kiln doesn't care what you meant.

It reads the curve you give it, minute by minute, and hands back the truth at thirteen hundred degrees. Program the firing below. Then live with the pots.

Program the firing

How to read a kiln

Cones measure work, not temperature.

01 — Heatwork

Cones, not clocks

A pyrometric cone bends when it has absorbed enough heat over enough time. Cone 10 falls at 1305 °C if you climb at sixty degrees an hour — sooner if you soak, later if you sprint. The controller below thinks the same way.

02 — The schedule

Ramps and holds

A firing is just segments: climb at a rate, hold at a temperature. Drag the points. Too steep before 600 °C and steam splits your ware; too timid at the top and the glazes never wake.

03 — The stakes

What can go wrong

Everything. Underfire and tenmoku is dry rust. Overfire and it runs off the foot and welds the pot to the shelf. Copper red misses without its soak. That's the game, and the kiln always deals.

The instrument

Program the firing. Your curve decides the pots.

Kiln controller — chamber B · four pots loaded

Drag points · double-click a segment to add a step, a point to remove it · arrow keys nudge a focused point (shift for coarse)

Programme
Peak
Predicted heatwork
Controller notes

On the shelf this month

Four glazes, four arguments with the fire.

Tenmoku

Iron-saturate. Black glass that breaks to rust wherever it thins — lips, ridges, the ghost of a fingermark. Fire it down slowly and it crystallises to tea-dust.

Matures △9–11 · loves a slow cool

Celadon

Two percent iron and a thousand years of practice. Underdone it's cloud; right, it's river-jade pooling in the carving. Past cone eleven it thins to mean glass.

Matures △9–10 · crackles off a fast cool

Shino

The moody one. Chalk-white out of a timid kiln, carrot-orange out of a patient one, carbon-spotted if the flame finds it. Forgiving low, sulky high.

Matures △8–10 · blisters past △11

Copper red

An oxblood with a window one cone wide. No soak at the top and the red greys out like a held breath. Hit it, and nothing else in the kiln matters.

Matures △10 sharp · needs a 15-minute soak

The kiln itself

Forty cubic feet of hard brick and soft flame.

We fire on the last Saturday of every month, rain or shine, gas roaring from six in the morning until the cones say stop.

Bring your ware bisqued and your glaze wiped a finger-width off the foot — the shelf grinder is for emergencies, not habits. Someone always brings a plate for the table; someone always forgets to sign the firing log. Unloading is Sunday, eight sharp, and there is no feeling in ceramics like the first sight of a shelf you gambled on.

The little clay figure on the controller is the kiln god. He was made from the first bag of clay this studio ever opened, in 2011, and he has watched every firing since. Please him.

214Firings logged
△10Gas reduction
2011First lighting
43Members on the roster