“Normally you don’t want people to replicate things, you don’t want people to copy things,” said King. “But in this exercise, it was so wonderful to have people take the techniques that they’re familiar with and try and challenge themselves to create something they would normally never make. It really helps them build stronger skills.”

The course was also a boon for museum staff who observed McLaughlin’s careful demonstrations to learn about the materials and the methods used in a range of different works, and to appreciate the makers’ expertise. “It’s been like gold for us because we love to know how things are made,” said Angela Chang, a specialist in the conservation of objects and sculpture at the Harvard Art Museums. “The time and skills required are not readily apparent when we study a finished product. A maker’s perspective provides invaluable insight for curators and conservators in their research and interpretation.”

Before the online sessions began Chang and McLaughlin examined the works selected for each class in the museums’ Straus Center for Conservation and Technical Studies. Together they carefully studied the exterior details and reviewed X-rays of the pots, bowls, jars, and vases for any hidden clues.

For McLaughlin the course was part detective story, part science project.

To replicate the textured glaze on a pitcher from the 15th century, he opted for a soda-firing process that could turn the final product a mottled, blueish gray typical of the traditional salt-firing, minus the noxious by-product sodium chloride.

By looking closely at an Etruscan kantharos dating from the sixth century B.C.E., he and Chang found that instead of being crafted on a wheel from one lump of clay as they had initially believed, the cup is actually an elegant mix of several thrown and hand-formed pieces. The clue? A small rim on the inside of the vessel. “If a maker plans to intentionally throw a bowl,” said McLaughlin, “such a ridge doesn’t make sense. Instead, it looks like there are three distinct pieces, a plate, a bowl, and a stem,” he explained, “that were combined to give it this fascinating shape.”

Trial and error were also key parts of the process for McLaughlin, who needed multiple attempts to produce the exact consistency of slip — a watery clay — used to create the vine-like design on a Roman beaker. He also had to guess at the kind of tool the original maker might have used to apply the slip to the jar’s surface. In the end, a soft bristled brush created the desired effect. To prepare for another session McLaughlin repeatedly mixed and matched different colored clays to capture the exact blue-black hue of the museum’s evocative Portland Vase. He wasn’t alone. The original designers of the intricate Wedgwood piece from the late 1700s, modeled after a Greco-Roman vase of cameo glass from the first century C.E., also struggled to get the look just right.

“It took years and years for the makers at Wedgwood to be able to make one,” said King.

McLaughlin said simply achieving an accurate base color was a success. “I am not even going to come close trying to re-create the piece,” he said. “I will take a shot at the form, but as far as what’s done to the surface, it’s too exquisite.”

Those eager for a peek at some of the works created during the course can visit the reopened ceramics studio’s Gallery 224 by appointment, where a range of items crafted by ceramics instructors for their online programming during COVID are on display.

Related

Island investigations

Largest-yet study of ancient Caribbean DNA documents distinct stone tool-, ceramic-using populations

‘Sketching’ with clay

Master potter encourages students to refine craft

Fresh insight in familiar frames

New American art curator wants us to engage in big questions of our time through works of another