The time-stopper

Can you guess which art class I made this in? It may surprise you that it was Ceramics. This was my final project for our introduction to hand-building component (the other being wheel-throwing). At first I found hand-building tedious and difficult. Modeling a blown-up clove of garlic eventually broke me, and it was the only time I cried right in the middle of class. However, I persevered and eventually got the hang of it. Our final assignment was to create a magical machine that could do whatever we wanted. Perhaps since I was in the midst of my final semester of college, I decided to create a “time-stopper”. It is in fact a working clock. I was inspired by the elegance of cast iron machines of the late 19th century, electrical contraptions you might find in a mad scientist’s laboratory, and the shape of the metronome that sat on our piano growing up, which I always loved.

To make its obelisk shape, I cut out a square base, with a large hole in the middle to make sure it didn’t blow up. Then, I modeled the four identical sides and very carefully balanced them against each other also connecting them to each other and the base. I also cut out a number of holes to add the metal pieces later and added the front lever component before the first firing. After it was safely out of the kiln, my instructor confessed she was worried its shape would not hold. I covered its red clay surface with a dark metallic wash with a dollop of orangish glaze to completely change its aesthetic before it was fired a second time. Then I added all the real metal components, many of which my dad found in our old garage over the years, and affixed them with glue. Finally, I inserted the battery-powered mechanism inside the tower and attached it to the clock face.

Going from crying in class over a mangled hunk of clay to this was a personal triumph. If only it could actually stop time. . .