My Apprenticeship at Eckel's Pottery

working at Eckel's, 1996

It was only four months of my life, eighteen years ago. But the experience I gained and the friendships formed during the summer of 1996 are with me to this day. I had been accepted as an apprentice to the master potter, Bob Eckels, in Bayfield, Wisconsin. I would work every day in a real pottery. I would actually sell my wares to strangers. I would learn the business and improve my skills. I couldn't have imagined a better position.

I had just been married. Over 350 friends and family came to celebrate that day, filling my parents' backyard with color and life. One of the guests was my cousin from Bayfield who I had only met once as young girl. He asked me to dance and then, with no hesitation invited us to stay with him. So it was from a pop-up camper set in the middle of his apple orchard that I would bike off to the pottery each day.

Bob Eckels, vessel - 1996

The whole Eckels family worked together to make that business a success. Bob was invariably sitting at his wheel, laughing with customers while his hands masterfully formed his signature pots. With a grand flourish he would run the teeth of a miniature gear head along the side of the pot. Lu, his wife, took care of anyone and anything that needed it. She was always smiling. Dede was in the back room working with porcelain. She painted on her beautifully smooth pieces as if they were stretches of canvas waiting for her skilled brushwork. Steve practiced efficiency at the wheel, trying to see how few pulls would be required to make a pot. The concept of "less is more" is what comes to mind when I think of his work. Then there was Sandy. She was like family to them. Her gentle nature and kindness gushed from her. And she worked her magic at the wheel too. It was a gift being able to be part of this working business, to see how everyone had their role and how together it all made sense.

Sandy Hagist, honey pot - 1996

Sandy just died this week. Even though I haven't seen her in years, I feel the loss. I remember her asking to make a trade for one of my body vases that she then displayed in her living room. It was an honor for me and I will not forget the gesture. And from this I have a honey pot of hers that I adore.

my nude body vases- 1996

How can one summer be etched like stone in my memory? First off, the wealth of skill and knowledge that surrounded me was incredible and unforgettable. But, even more outstanding was the constant generosity of everyone there that made such a deep impression. I am so grateful for those four months. I will not forget any of it.