Hank Murrow on fri 29 oct 04
On Oct 29, 2004, at 6:40 AM, Tig Dupre wrote:
> Vince,
> I'd love to see Steven Hill, Hank Murrow, Peter King, or Paul Lewing
> in a workshop, depending on what you want to teach.
Well, Tig;
You could always hie yourself down to Tennessee just after NCECA_Balto
and take in Hank there, working with Vince's students.
Hardly Mainstream, but ready to do some serious clay...........and fun
too.
Cheers, Hank
www.murrow.biz/hank
Tig Dupre on fri 29 oct 04
Vince,
Don Reitz is a marvelous presenter, as is Tom Coleman. If you can get the two of them together, it would be quite a show! I saw them on separate occasions at Dan Finch Pottery in Bailey, NC. Well worth the time and effort.
John Balistrieri does sculptural work and is a student of Peter Voulkos. Rudy Autio does magnificent pieces, deceptively fast. I had the great fortune to see Reitz, Balistrieri, Autio, Soldner, Kathy Koop, and other surprise "guest" presenters, all in one show!
I'd love to see Steven Hill, Hank Murrow, Peter King, or Paul Lewing in a workshop, depending on what you want to teach. Val Cushing did a special show for John Jessiman in Manassas, VA--DYNAMITE!
Many of the "Old Names" are in semi-retirement, but folks like Clayton Bailey may still be traveling. Toshiko Takaezu did an inspiring workshop for my college class (a *long* time ago!), but she may be off the road.
Now, if you want to put on an "anti-workshop," I am usually available. I can safely demonstrate to your students all the mistakes that are liable to creep into your careful work, how to drop pots on the floor, the process of saving a mug base by working it for 30 minutes with a propane torch, and the joys of firing a still-damp bisque too fast! And I work cheap, too!
Best to all,
Tig Dupre
in lovely Port Orchard, Washington
sdr on sat 30 oct 04
>
> It was a dark, stormy night. Linda and I settled down in front of a warm,
> crackling fire with a glass of single malt, anticipating a quiet evening.
> But then, into this pleasant delirium intruded a distinct sound - the old
> iron garden gate creaked open. What's that? Who would arrive at such an
> hour? I arose from my chair, hoping, wishing for some normal occurrence,
> someone we wished to see, some kindred soul paying a pleasant social visit
> on a dismal winter's eve. But fate has a way of catching up with us when
> least expected. At that momnent the french doors burst open with a
terrible
> crash. I froze in place, drew my breath in an abrupt gasp, adrenaline
> coursing my veins, and gazed in abject horror. There, before my eyes,
> approaching slowly, was the thing I most dreaded, returned from the
> almost-forgotten past in its terrible manifestation of evil. It came
> closer, reaching towards me, and then . . . . . . . . . .
..........with a scream of terror, I slammed the doors, ran back into the
room and yanked Linda from her chair. "Run" I cried, "run, Linda;
or we are both doomed!! She looked at me crossly, and tried to peer
over my shoulder to see what was causing my dismay. "Vince, you dolt,
you've spilt my drink and disturbed my reverie - what's the matter with
you? You look like you've seen a ghost! " And then as I shifted my
position, pulling frantically on her arm, she was able to glimpse just what
had so terrified me. "What.......what......ohmigod, Vince, what is that
reaching
toward..........arhhhgggghhhhh......oohhhhhh......RUNNNNNNNNN........"
She pushed me aside and ran with amazing speed toward the.......
Dannon Rhudy
Vince Pitelka on sat 30 oct 04
> You could always hie yourself down to Tennessee just after NCECA_Balto
> and take in Hank there, working with Vince's students.
> Hardly Mainstream, but ready to do some serious clay...........and fun
> too.
I am glad that Hank mentioned that, and it is never to early to push a good
opportunity. We are delighted to announce that our dear Hank Murrow will be
riding home with us from NCECA and will spend several weeks at the
Appalachian Center for Craft, working with my students, cramming them full
of his abundant wisdom and experience. He will also do a weekend workshop
for the general public (yes, a fee will be involved, but hey, what better
use for your money, eh?). The workshop will be Friday afternoon/evening,
Saturday, and Sunday, April 1, 2, and 3. Yep, Hank will be here for April
Fools Day. Mhooohaaahaaahaaaaa . . . . .
Yes, serious clay, and fun too. You can bet on that.
- Vince
It was a dark, stormy night. Linda and I settled down in front of a warm,
crackling fire with a glass of single malt, anticipating a quiet evening.
But then, into this pleasant delirium intruded a distinct sound - the old
iron garden gate creaked open. What's that? Who would arrive at such an
hour? I arose from my chair, hoping, wishing for some normal occurrence,
someone we wished to see, some kindred soul paying a pleasant social visit
on a dismal winter's eve. But fate has a way of catching up with us when
least expected. At that momnent the french doors burst open with a terrible
crash. I froze in place, drew my breath in an abrupt gasp, adrenaline
coursing my veins, and gazed in abject horror. There, before my eyes,
approaching slowly, was the thing I most dreaded, returned from the
almost-forgotten past in its terrible manifestation of evil. It came
closer, reaching towards me, and then . . . . . . . . . .
Vince Pitelka
Appalachian Center for Craft, Tennessee Technological University
Smithville TN 37166, 615/597-6801 x111
vpitelka@dtccom.net, wpitelka@tntech.edu
http://iweb.tntech.edu/wpitelka/
http://www.tntech.edu/craftcenter/
The Bedfords on sun 31 oct 04
>
> It was a dark, stormy night. Linda and I settled down in front of a warm,
> crackling fire with a glass of single malt, anticipating a quiet evening.
> But then, into this pleasant delirium intruded a distinct sound - the old
> iron garden gate creaked open. What's that? Who would arrive at such an
> hour? I arose from my chair, hoping, wishing for some normal occurrence,
> someone we wished to see, some kindred soul paying a pleasant social visit
> on a dismal winter's eve. But fate has a way of catching up with us when
> least expected. At that momnent the french doors burst open with a
terrible
> crash. I froze in place, drew my breath in an abrupt gasp, adrenaline
> coursing my veins, and gazed in abject horror. There, before my eyes,
> approaching slowly, was the thing I most dreaded, returned from the
> almost-forgotten past in its terrible manifestation of evil. It came
> closer, reaching towards me, and then . . . . . . . . . .
..........with a scream of terror, I slammed the doors, ran back into the
room and yanked Linda from her chair. "Run" I cried, "run, Linda;
or we are both doomed!! She looked at me crossly, and tried to peer
over my shoulder to see what was causing my dismay. "Vince, you dolt,
you've spilt my drink and disturbed my reverie - what's the matter with
you? You look like you've seen a ghost! " And then as I shifted my
position, pulling frantically on her arm, she was able to glimpse just what
had so terrified me. "What.......what......ohmigod, Vince, what is that
reaching
toward..........arhhhgggghhhhh......oohhhhhh......RUNNNNNNNNN........"
She pushed me aside and ran with amazing speed toward the.......
................kitchen.
"What are you doing??" I asked in a frenzy. I watched her in amazement as
she grabbed for the flyswatter. I stared at her, dumbfounded.
Without saying anything, she ran past me to the intruder. I just stood
there, and watched her, but coming to my senses, I started in a run after
her. When I came back to the living room, I saw Linda whacking a giant fly
with the flyswatter.
It was huge. About the size of a horse. It was dripping in ooze; probably
from the garbage. It had huge checkered eyes, and a long mouth. My jaw
dropped as my wife hit it with such a force, it ran out of the door,
whimpering. Linda slammed it, panting.
But then we heard.............
Mackenzie age 12: Potter's daughter
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