There is no such thing as a typical day, week, or month when one teaches studio art. February was busy. The Art Center in Carrboro wanted to celebrate Black History Month with an exhibition of student work. I accepted the responsibility. With two students and another faculty member, we matted and framed 35 works on Friday, secured them in a van (which I drove) on Monday, and transported them on Tuesday, when the work was installed in the gallery. I had other tasks as well: photographs for newspapers, printed labels, invitations, a master list of works/prices, signage, and donations of food and beverages for a reception. One week after the reception in Carrboro, I took 40 students to Hampton University to see one of the nation’s finest collections of African-American Art.

 

But in addition to vans and installations, I also revise curriculum, advise and register one third of the students in our program, write letters of recommendation for students for graduate school, and work with community groups, from the local United Arts Council to the Contemporary Art Museum.

 

Teaching, however, consumes much of my time. Studio classes meet for three hours twice a week. Full-time studio faculty like me teach three classes: 18 contact hours in the classroom. On Monday and Wednesday, I teach drawing to a large freshmen class. Each week, I design a different still life to support an assignments’ objective (scavenging and collecting materials is an ongoing process.) This past Sunday, I reorganized the studio -moving, hauling and arranging - to accommodate a new set-up. I had bought a variety of colored bags and fabric which matched the colors of the bags. Pieced together, it formed a large backdrop against which the bags were arranged. Still life with bags. When students finish assignments, we have a class critique, and students learn to evaluate their own and each other’s work. Their written critiques are read aloud.

 

A drawing class is labor intensive. But it’s nothing compared to ceramics. I teach one class in hand building, and a second in throwing (wheel forming.) I do the grunt work because I have no graduate students. Beginning students use tremendous amounts of clay, primarily due to mistakes. These “mistakes” are put in barrels and slaked down with water. That’s only the beginning. Reclaiming clay is a lengthy and arduous process. I do it repeatedly toward the end of the semester when clay is in short supply. It saves the department hundreds of dollars each semester.

 

I make glazes for the ceramics class on weekends and after class. Finally, to complete the ceramic process, the work is fired twice—once at a low temperature to make the pieces less fragile, then to a much higher temperature to mature the clay and glaze. When firing a glaze kiln, I am there for a minimum of 12 hours.