Sandy Spring Friends School

 

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Here at SSFS we try hard to reduce, recycle, and reuse... And certainly in the art barn, we art teachers are no strangers to hoarding and reusing the most bizarre of left-over objects. I've always said, give me multiples of anything, and I can find a cool transformation or project for it.

So, it comes as no surprise that a big component of the art barn program consists of recycled…dinosaurs. Maybe. Or maybe not really, but still a good guess.

No one actually knows when or why ancient man first looked at a mushy river bank of mud and decided that the gooey mess would make a good container for food. Hmmmm…yummy! What possibly possessed him? Was it a small divot, sun baked and hard, filled with the morning dew, that lit the proverbial lightbulb? Was it a small child, having run up to show his mother the wonderful shape he had squished while playing in the mud, who then tripped and dropped his mushy treasure in the fire? Only to dig it out of the embers the next morning and discover, to his dismay, that it was hard as rock? Was it a bolt of lightning hardening a spot of earth along the shore? No one can know, except that it happened sometime between 29,000 - 26,000 years ago, near what is now the Czech Republic.

From that time long ago to today, this wonderful pliable material has helped to tell the history of man. From the translucent and delicate porcelain Tang Dynasty tea cups, to pithari, the larger-than-man coiled pots of the Minoan people, to the stunning Venus figurines of early cave dwellers; from cooking and storage vessels to tablets recording significant events, magnificent statues, simple surfaces on which to write, foolish and charming knick-knacks – clay has always told a story. How did a community have red clay sherds, when, for miles around, it was surrounded by only grey clay sources? How did they heat the clay when there was no discernible source of fuel? How did they move large pieces of unimaginable weight? How did they so successfully build without a wheel (first used between 6,000-4,000 C.E.), fire accurately without thermostats (to over 1500 degrees!) and make perfectly circular vessels using just their hands and no tools? How did they decorate their pots with no art stores from which to buy camel- or fox-hair brushes? How did they create consistent glaze formulas with chemicals they didn't understand, without accurate scales, measuring tools, blenders, or sieves? Truly, a record of man's growth.

Mud, earth, dirt, grime, loam, silt, ground, soil, compost, muck... So many synonyms...and yet none truly suffice. Plastic, pliable, bendable, transformable, wonderful clay! And red, grey, white, black, green, brown, and tan are just a few of the natural colors created by the rocks from which it was born.

Where does this transformational material come from? Not far. It is found in nearly every corner of our planet, and certainly in a location near you (especially since Maryland used to be under water). Metamorphosed deep in the earth over the millennia, under the immense pressure of oceans, rivers, and seas, the dirt, weathered rocks, soil, and compost (yes, the fallen trees, dead fish, and likely even the wayward dinosaur, trapped in a river bank's slippery mud) slowly changed, morphed, converted, mutated, and transformed to become pliable, elastic, and most importantly, capable of becoming fused or sintered when heated. This phenomenal characteristic allowed ancient man, way before the age of Tupperware, to create long-lasting pots that could hold water, wine, oil, fruit, and grains! The earliest known utilitarian vessel is from 20,000 C.E., and was found in a cave in China. Ahh, the pleasure of refreshing water: because as they discovered, when stored in a clay pot, liquids stay amazingly cool even on the hottest day!

Slowly, as man found a bit more leisure time in his challenging struggle to survive, the art of ceramics developed from practical, to beautifully practical, to beautiful and possibly useless, other than the beauty it portrayed and the creativity it allowed.

Here at SSFS, our students, parents, visitors, and friends have perfected the art of transforming composted and recycled dinosaurs (among the many other components of clay) into useful, fun, whimsical, and colorful bowls, not for their own use, but for a unique NEW reason...to help others! Some bowls are extra-large, some super-tiny, some leaky, some bent, and some formed into rather unique (and possibly less than useful) shapes. But all of them hold something (if not always soup). On some of them (mainly those made by the youngest of us), the glaze has been glopped on in thick, colorful rivers. Others have been painstakingly glazed with contrasting hues, delicate designs, flowers, animals, leaves, and delightful abstract patterns. Others have been carefully and time-consuming-ly carved in a technique called scrafitto, or built like a mosaic using composite pieces, or skillfully shaped into an animal. Others have been draped, pulled, torn, bent, or formed into wonderful art, but all of them have been molded by a kindred desire…to help others.

Please come join us as we enjoy the age-old art of ceramics, celebrate the generosity that is so evident in the hundreds of beautiful bowls made by our community, feast on the delicious "Stone Soup" made from a little bit of this and a little bit of that (also contributed by members of the community), and enjoy the power of Letting Your Lives Speak as we help others who are hungry. See photos from our 2023 Empty Bowl Dinner, come help create bowls in the Art Barn, and stay tuned for the date of our next dinner! 

There have been many bowls made over the years of Empty Bowl at SSFS, thousands in fact, made by young hands, the less young, and all in-between. Many bowls rise above the rest: some truly amazing bowls; others just utilitarian but created with great care; large, small, and even tiny; and others made by those touching clay for their very first time.  Some of those bowls are memorable for their unique journey. 
 
This year one bowl has shimmied to the top of the amazing collection, and it was probably made in the late spring of 2018, after our last fundraising dinner. The young artist, rather than mall-cruising with a bevy of friends (when they were open), shooting hoops, or spending free time chatting or playing games, decided to undertake roses……a double dozen bouquet! 
 
Having started at a very young age - unknowingly being brought to the Barn to smush clay; squirming on a parents' lap; to be entertained; to explore creativity - the joy of making and giving was indelibly sealed. Now older, the artist quietly planned, carefully molded, and attached each blossom with an eye for balance and harmony. Once the bowl was done, ownership relinquished, the bowl moved forward to an unknown future through the high heat of the kiln, to be ready for unknown hands to leave their mark on the bowl as they glazed. 
 
The painters, as it took many to complete the piece, recognized the tremendous effort already invested in the rose bowl, were willing to spend hours painting every single petal and leaf, as well as the gently curved surface. Most likely intimidated by the responsibility of taking on the challenge, their work would match the skills already put into the clay, as they too were willing to try, to help, and then unselfishly, to just give. 
 
Once again, surviving the transforming heat, the bowl emerged glorious. It was then safely packed up in a box, awaiting the next dinner and its opportunity to shine. Five years it waited, due to Covid, through the winter cold, summer heat, and only kept company by sheltering stink bugs.  The bowl had been forgotten by those who had seen the young artist’s determination. A few who saw it when it was unpacked, or remembered, were inspired, and tried their own hands at rose-festooned bowls!
 
The bowl maker has now grown into an amazingly creative and confident artist, who has created dragons cavorting across curved clay surfaces, a spring bird perching on a blossoming branch, as well as playful fish, an elegant undulating octopus, and even a speckled frog resting on a lily pad.  The joy of giving, and not to anyone known or who will likely ever be met, has been internalized, absorbed, and embraced in the artist. Not for personal profit, nor public recognition, but just for the joy and desire to help others by Letting Their Lives Speak!

Empty Bowl - Rose Bowl

 

Empty-Bowl-Dennistons

Al203 2Si02 2H20, kaolin, argillaceous earth, mud, terra cotta, oozy dirt, terra firma, argil, or in other words and as the kids know it: mushy, fun, CLAY!

Only children play with clay, right? What adult would possibly want the sticky mess congealing in their rings, oozing out from under their fingernails, or getting caked on their clothes? You would think that between oil changes, snow shoveling, laundry, homework supervision, grocery shopping, and so many other tasks one’s head goes dizzy, they would not choose to come out and play with clay. Well, many, many adults do just that.

Coming to the art barn, squeezing precious time out of busy schedules, they take off their diamond rings, push up their lovely sleeves, silence their cell phones, put on an art-stained smock, and get to work. They form, pound, mold, carve, plan, design, and create bowls. Some take an hour to make two or three bowls- others draft, plan, sketch, scheme, and take three or four hours to make just one. They bring great focus, determination, and skill, incorporating into the bowls all of their rich experiences and talents, and generously share their precious time. Hopefully, they take away as much as they give, as even after many hours of creative work, not a single adult has asked to sign their bowl or truly expects to see it again.

When the bowl-making sessions come to an end, many beg for more time, lingering, adding on final touches, one last tweak. Some have even asked in amazement why the art barn is not open every weekend for this wonderful fun.  They have asked for classes, for additional sessions, even offering to pay. One Sunday, an elegant grandmother came to help, carefully coiffed, bedecked in a beautiful wool jacket, a fresh manicure and many gold rings, looking like she had just left an embassy somewhere downtown. Never having touched clay before, she was amazed that it really felt squishy, and stayed for hours making bowls. When it was over, she begged for more time.

Many bowl makers later return, setting aside other obligations, coming to the barn in between my art classes, to add one more detail to their bowl- or scheduling a time to visit during class, they find an empty if not exactly quiet corner of the room, and continue their creative work, inspiring all of our students with their dedication and the beauty of their creations. Some arrive during weekend sessions, coming without their kids or grandkids. School parents have brought neighbors and friends, aunts and uncles, as well as families visiting the school. All have pushed up their sleeves and created.

There are many ways out there to do for others, many good and important causes, many opportunities to be the community-minded people we all strive to be, and the Empty Bowls Project is just one. What it offers, however, is a unique opportunity to combine the giving of one’s time, of one’s art and creativity and spirit, with learning and teaching, and with family and community.  It would not be possible without the many hundreds of hours generously given to the cause by all the helpful, supportive, and willing adults. They come to make bowls, to glaze, to clean, to help, to pack up, to wash brushes, tables, and sticky fingers…always supporting our students and the project.   One of the most touching sights, making my heart squeeze every time, is the sight of a big head bent down towards a little one’s, both focused and working quietly together on one bowl. It is particularly special when it is a dad and a young one, as often dads are too busy to be able to take the time to mush clay. There are no shudders as gooey fingers touch clean shoulders, as less dexterous fingers mar the almost complete bowl, no frustrated words as exuberant energy swirls through the room. I have watched toddlers pound clay into a bowl shape (albeit most likely with a few holes), sitting on the table-top as the stools are not really toddler friendly, and as they grow into young adults, coming back year after year to make more bowls. Many times three generations have come together, making the most of the unique opportunity to work in tandem to create. Big people teaching impressionable little ones the pleasure of working not for themselves, but for others, and teaching themselves at the same time…this is the richness in Letting Our Lives Speak.

Made with love, given with more….and all to help someone else.  Help us help them fight hunger and Let Your Lives Speak! Come to the Empty Bowl Dinner March 12, 2023 or donate to the Empty Bowl effort at Sandy Spring Friends School.

Empty Bowl - Heart Mug

It was a grey fall weekend afternoon, and people were coming to the Art Barn from all over–leaving their homes, their chores, the sports game and their time for relaxation–in order to work together towards a collaborative goal of helping others. Pushing up their sleeves, they got right down to the messy but fun business of forming clay into bowls. Challenged to make the pliable material both useful and beautiful, they worked the clay until textures, patterns, designs, carvings, and applique details emerged into different shapes. Bowls of all sizes and designs blossomed on the window sill, awaiting their time in the kiln.

A young boy, visiting the school, had come with his family to make bowls, to help, and he tried his very best. Making sure that all who were there understood the reason and the cause of the Empty Bowl project–transforming our values into direct action, to make bowls to be used as part of a fundraiser to fight hunger–I hoped that he was having some fun, and while I doubted the structural integrity of some of his bowls, he seemed to understand why he was making them. But the clay had a mind of its own. It tore, mis-formed, moved, smushed into unrecognizable shapes, seemingly on its own volition, and certainly did not remain in the curve of a bowl capable of holding much of anything, let alone soup. Hardly discouraged, the young man plowed on, working through pounds and pounds of clay while attempting to make a bowl that would satisfy his creative vision. His mom, others at the table, and I all tried to guide him, but the clay and what he wanted it to do were often at odds. His burst of abundant energy depleted, he finally gave up, it seemed, and thereafter sat quietly working a small ball of clay. As I was intensely busy with our many other bowl makers, other than an occasional glance in his direction, I had no time to go over to him.

So, he finally came to me, with his huge heart held in his small palm, cradling the tiniest and most perfect of little mugs.  With extraordinary care and focus, he had quietly made a small slab, maybe 2” round. He then attached a wall, forming the small cup. Pinching the clay to seal the pieces, he then made a gently curved handle. Finally, he cut out heart shapes and carefully attached them to the outside. The slip oozed out of the sides, blurring the shapes; the mouth is bumpy, the walls uneven; yet the gift given is larger than that of the largest of large serving dishes. He didn’t expect to get it back; he told me in no uncertain words that it was to help other people. And that it was for soup! To help stop hunger! What innocence it is to think that this tiny mug could make a dent in the crisis of hunger in our country, much less around the world, but it absolutely does just that! Perseverance, deep-hearted generosity, and a smile to make every cloudy day go away, the little mug will only hold–maybe–10 M&M’s… but they will be the best tasting ones you will ever have the luck to savor.  And I know, for every one of us who sees this precious mug, and hears its beautiful story, our hearts will swell a bit as we recognize its unique beauty.

All the clay that was transformed into bowls that day, and then anonymously glazed by others on other days, will be filled with homemade soup as part of a simple meal and then taken home as a perpetual reminder of how we can help the millions of children and families in our immediate area who go to bed with empty dinner bowls. All proceeds from the dinner will go to the organizations of Feeding America and SOME.

 

Made with love, given with more–and all to anonymously help others!  The beautiful bowl depicts the world that both artists, and hopefully all of us, would like to see: nurtured and cared for by us all. Help us help them fight hunger and Let Your Lives Speak

Empty Bowl - Giraffe

The Story of How a Giraffe Came to Live for a Bit in the Art Barn

Granted, this giraffe is a bit unique: he is neon orange (and maybe he is not even a “he”; I am not versed in giraffe etiquette, but I do know that neon is a bit unusual). His head is perpetually bent in a quizzical glance and his two ossicones are red. He is hiding his blue tongue (all 18” of it!), but his 6-foot-long legs are straight – and spotted! He/she does not yet have a name, but let me tell you how he came to live for a while in the barn, bringing along some friends.

A 5th grade student wanted to help others – others who do not always know if they will have dinner that night, or lunch, or even breakfast! Imagine such hunger, and how hard it is to learn, to play, or to have fun when all that you can think about is how one’s belly is hurting. So this 5th grader took some clay, and shaped it into the plump belly of a giraffe. He rolled clay into long legs, into a magnificent stretchy neck, and formed a head casting a sideways glance. Carefully scoring the pieces (scratching the clay with a sharp tool), and using slip (wet gooey clay) as glue, he carefully attached the appendages to the belly – all while working upside down! Eyes, nostrils, and the ossicones (often mistaken for horns), were added as final touches, along with a long floppy tail.

Though deeply attached to the tiny giraffe that he had worked so hard on for so long, the 5th grader then cheerfully handed the bowl over to an uncertain future, possibly never to see him again.  In came a 4th grader who also wanted to help others who are hungry – by doing, giving, helping, working, and sharing. Using bright red, teal, and orange under glazes, he painstakingly painted each element twice to ensure a deep rich color.  Then he, too, while attached to the little guy, handed him over to another. Now a 2nd grader looked at the little giraffe and decided that brown spots were needed, as well as strong stripes in the teal belly. Working with great care and patience, he made the final touches, and then handed the Giraffa Camelopardalis over with a smile.

The artist students will probably never see their little giraffe again, unless they are very lucky and get to the Empty Bowl dinner at just the perfect moment. It certainly looks very different than it did when they last saw it (as raw grey clay before it turned white through the firing process, and with unfired dull colors, before or after the carefully added on spots). What is certain is that the minute he is put out on the bowl tables, this little giraffe will find a new home instantaneously as he peers straight into your heart. Who knows under which acacia tree he will finally come to rest? His buddies will also melt your heart: the platypus, cats, dogs, crabs, turtles, reindeer, fish, and birds, and especially this little giraffe – they are all just visitors to the art barn for right now. All these colorful and delightful creatures were carefully transformed into bowls, to be filled with homemade soup as part of a simple meal, and then taken home as a perpetual reminder of how we can help the millions of children and families in our immediate area that go to bed with empty dinner bowls. All proceeds from the dinner will go to the organizations of Feeding America and SOME.
 

Made with love, given with more–and all to anonymously help others!  The beautiful bowl depicts the world that both artists, and hopefully all of us, would like to see: nurtured and cared for by us all. Help us help them fight hunger and Let Your Lives Speak

Empty Bowl - Better World in Our Hands

A young 5th grader came to the art barn one weekend afternoon with an idea in her heart and great determination to try her best. She wanted to make a bowl for the Empty Bowl project with a hand cupping the belly. The making of a bowl is a challenge in and of itself, but to form the delicate shape of fingers in clay is difficult, and only a resolute artist would take on the task.  So off she went, undeterred by my hesitation, nor by the complex task at hand.

The bowl was carefully formed first, and then, as she worked upside down, delicate fingers started to emerge gently cradling the curve of the bowl.  A wrist, knuckles, creases, and even fingernails were carefully formed, leaving no one to doubt the ultimate design. Digging deep through her exhaustion, as a couple hours had already passed, she decided the design called for a second hand (5 more delicate fingers needed!) and it, too, emerged, complete with a braided bracelet for balance. With a smile, and a full heart, she held out her beautiful work of art, giving it without regret to the Empty Bowl Project. She knew she might never see it again, that she would not be the one to glaze it, and that whoever did might make it purple, green, polka-dotted, or even striped, possibly with colors that she did not like at all. She just handed it over, knowing it would be used to help others through the transformative power of art–others who were hungry, children who went to bed without dinner, families that do not know if they have breakfast in the pantry.

And then unexpected tragedy: as can so easily happen with all ceramics through the multiple and delicate firing process, the thick clay of the wrist exploded! The beautiful work was lost! I couldn’t stand it; I couldn’t think of her generous gift lost in this tragic way.  So I–carefully, so very carefully –copied her hands, all the knuckles, creases, the braided bracelet, the rotund bowl, and tried to recreate her masterpiece–not as well as she had done, but to the best of my ability. Fired with a different technique this time, it made it through the intense heat (1945 F. degrees!) unscathed.

So now it was ready for glazing–but who would volunteer to spend the time needed? A dad stepped forward, and after a bit of time getting a feel for the needs of the bowl, he started off with a pencil! A bit different but… ok. After painstaking labor, all the continents and oceans of our beautiful world were clearly delineated with mountains, shore lines, even islands. The hands were carefully glazed using a contrasting underglaze to highlight the texture of the fingers and a transparent color was then applied on top, thus creating a translucent skin. A beautiful starry sky with the suggestion of a milky way fills the center of the bowl.  Truly, a beautiful piece of art made by many hands!

Made with love, given with more–and all to anonymously help others!  The beautiful bowl depicts the world that both artists, and hopefully all of us, would like to see: nurtured and cared for by us all. Help us help them fight hunger and Let Your Lives Speak! 

Empty Bowl - Elmer and Friends

Yup… Elmer in all his patchwork glory, of red, blue, green, orange, and white, glorious patches!  It is a pachyderm just like Elmer, the wonderful colorful elephant created by David McKee. So how, one might ask, did Elmer come to be residing in the art barn, even if only for a bit? Well, it is a delightful story. One of hope, determination, patience, and humbling generosity!

One busy weekend of bowl making in preparation for the Empty Bowl event, a family came into the barn:  a 4th grader, his mom, and his older sister. She had never been to the art barn and as many young women having graduated from college and being busy with the frustrating task of searching for a job, she had possibly lots of other things she would have preferred to be doing, maybe like being at the mall in her rare free time. The young man would for sure of have preferred to be playing video games or hanging with his buddies rather than spending the afternoon with his mom and sister! The mom probably would have preferred some peace and quiet, but instead, as a family, they decided to come and make a bowl reminiscent of their home in faraway Kenya. A bowl not for themselves, but to help others: others, strangers to them, who would never be able to say “thank you”, but who were hungry and in need. 

So they first created a large bowl…not a single serving one, but a bowl large enough to fill with many generous portions, one with gracefully curved indents and a strong base.  The beauty of the shape not sufficient, the marvelous animals of their homeland were then painstakingly created and attached.  An elephant, with curved tusks and a long muscular trunk; a hippo bedecked with wrinkles; an imposing wildebeest with intimidating curved horn; a tall necked giraffe crowned by ossicones; and finally a furry maned regal lion all came to reside on the curves of the bowl. Sturdy elephant feet were formed to support the creatures of this faraway Maasai Mara (the Kenyan part of the Serengeti). 

Many hours had passed since the start of their laborious creation, and the family, exhausted but pleased with their work, happily handed it over to an uncertain future. They didn’t ask to sign the bowl, to mark their names indelibly in the clay, nor did they expect to be able to determine its future, its coloring, nor its final destination. They had spent the long afternoon working together in harmony, crafting, building, and creating an image of something they loved dearly, only for the benefit of others; unknown others, but others in need. 

But where does Elmer come in, in this story of giving?  Ahh, here enters a dad…another student’s dad, but another so very generous soul. He looked at the bowl, and immediately had a vision for it. Aware that it would need many hours of meticulous work and not intimidated, he pushed up his sleeves, put on a smock, and got out the brushes. An easy solution would have been to choose a single hue and to glaze all the animals the same. It would also be incredibly time consuming and difficult to try to give nature it’s due. But the bowl had a voice and the dad listened carefully to his own personal creative energy. The curves of the bowl became a Henri Rousseau like jungle with twisted, multi-shaped and overlapping vines and leaves. The wrinkly hippo was made a pink and purple polka dotted wonder.  The tall-necked giraffe has rainbow hued spots and the lion is regally red and gold. The fearsome wildebeest is striped and the elephant is a collage of colorful patches, transforming the white clay into a real Elmer, just as in the children’s story, a colorful pachyderm. One long afternoon hardly made a dent in the time needed to transform the animals, so the dad took off numerous afternoons from his busy workload and came to the barn to quietly sit and paint. Weekend after weekend, and more painting slowly transformed the center of the bowl into a watery pond complete with snakes and tangled banks of vines. 
When the last dot of glaze was finally dry, he too did not ask to sign his name, and then happily relinquished the bowl that he had spent so many hours working on to a greater cause. 

Connecting community, families, countries, generations, cultures, and people of many different needs, the bowl holds so much more than any serving of food. It holds the hopes of all those involved in its creation: a hope for a better future, one without hunger for the millions who suffer. 

Made with love, given with more... and all to help someone else!  The beautiful bowl depicts the world that the artists, and hopefully all of us, would like to see: nurtured and cared for by us all. Help us help them fight hunger and Let Your Lives Speak!