Unearthing connections through clay and fire
A couple weeks ago, I had the immense pleasure of cohosting a highly regarded workshop with the incredibly talented ceramist, Leila Buffa, hailing from Asunción, Paraguay. It was truly an ethereal day in my hometown in New Jersey, and I am filled with gratitude for Leila's presence, patience, and exceptional teaching skills. Thank you, Leila, for sharing your wealth of knowledge with us.
Thank you to all the participants whose presence and enthusiasm contributed to the success of this remarkable event — big shout out to my partner, Colin, who so beautifully captured the essence and magic of the day.
Leila's artistic journey began in New York in 2013, but it was her move to Paraguay in 2015 that truly shaped her artistic direction. Immersed in the region's rich cultural heritage, she explored traditional and pre-Hispanic techniques, embracing the wisdom passed down through generations.
Her work revolves around utilitarian ceramics, blending beauty and functionality into everyday objects. Leila is devoted to sharing her expertise in ancestral techniques, particularly in hand building and achieving the perfect balance of low fire temperatures. Committed to sustainability, she uses up-cycled wood for firing and exclusively sources local materials. Her work serves as a testament to the power of tradition, innovation, and a deep connection to the land she calls home.
My fascination with Leila's work sparked around three years ago, amidst the initial months of the pandemic. Looking back, it feels surreal, but I am so thankful that I discovered her art. I knew then that I had to take a class with her during my next family visit to Paraguay. After some initial communication, we connected on WhatsApp, and before I knew it, plans were underway for a day at her studio.
Returning to clay was quite the therapeutic experience to say the least. Colin and I were both equally so absorbed, the hours flew by. To my left, there was a bulletin board with a collection of images of archaic pottery, and it made me think of the one at my great grandfather’s farmhouse. This communal ‘cántaro,’ a large ceramic pot containing freshwater, remains fully intact until this day.
I felt like I was also reuniting with a long-lost acquaintance — a distant cousin, perhaps. Leila joked about the possibility of our parents knowing each other, given the smallness of Paraguay, and we soon discovered that their paths have indeed crossed before. Beyond this serendipitous connection, it was the sheer delight of immersing ourselves in the organic art form of ceramics that truly cemented bonds. Although we were unable to carry out the firing that day, Leila mentioned her upcoming family visit to New Jersey, and thus planted a seed of inspiration that would eventually come to fruition.
Before we left, Leila showed us some of the ceramic instruments made by her and her students.
Here’s a recap of the intensive workshop:
Our day commenced with a hands-on exploration of basic hand-building techniques; our heads and knees as molds, and common kitchen utensils to form the clay. We used the exceptional low fire red clay sourced from Ceramic Supply, Inc., located in Lodi, NJ (great store for all you ceramics enthusiasts). My head was the chosen one for a little demo! After a few wooden spoon pats, my temporary helmet transformed into a beautifully contoured bowl. Following this, we carefully placed the bowls face down under the sun, allowing them to dry.
After some time in the heat, we learned the art of trimming the excess clay from the bowl’s rim using a knife, creating a smooth, refined edge. We made a flat bottom base with the surface of the table, and used a damp sponge to help smoothen out the surfaces.
Next came the pinching technique for crafting cups. With a ball of clay held in our hands, we gently pressed our thumbs into the center, gradually expanding the opening. Guiding the clay with our hands, we pinched and shaped the cup's interior, infusing it with our own creative energy. Some final pats with a wooden spoon on the exterior, and our cups were ready to bask in the sun.
We returned to our work station to scrape some clay from the cup interiors using a spoon. Not an ounce of clay went to waste! The clay trimmings were collected to be reused for another session.
After our lunch break, we were eager to embark on the next step: burnishing our pieces with natural stones. This particular phase proved to be incredibly soothing, as we witnessed our creations take on a refined, polished appearance. Once again, we placed our pieces in the warm sun, turning our attention to the preparation of the bricks for the kiln.
Collaboratively, we established an assembly line to transport the bricks downhill, accelerating the process. We laid out a square brick base, followed by another layer of square bricks carefully arranged on top. Constructing the chimney required the insertion of metal rods, secured in place with some clay to maintain structural integrity. Before long, we stood proudly in front of the masterpiece, ready to fill it with our ceramics to initiate the firing, ‘la quema'.
Each of us gathered an offering or, ‘una ofrenda’, from our surroundings; flowers, ferns, palo santo, branches, and twigs, as a sacred tribute to honor the shared experience and profound significance of this ritual.
With a simple matchbox and some cardboard, we ignited a flame that would dance throughout the night. Sustaining the fire required an all-hands-on-deck effort; each of us ventured into the surrounding forest, collecting branches and twigs. Armed with our trusty fan handcrafted with palm leaves (adorned with a depiction of the cherished 'La Virgen de Caacupe’), we maintained a steady airflow to fuel the flames.
As the kiln steadily reached a scorching temperature of 1,800 degrees Fahrenheit, anticipation grew, and we awaited for the big moment. Four hours elapsed, and the ceramics began to radiate a brilliant red glow, signaling their readiness. With a pair of gloves and some fireplace tongs, Leila tactfully removed each piece from the kiln and then placed them on a bed of wood chips to attain a striking black tone. For a smudge-stained look, we sprinkled Yerba mate tea leaves onto the pieces — thoroughly sensory stimulating.
With the firing complete, we applied an organic beeswax finish, rendering the ceramics food-safe for everyday use. Exhausted from the labor-intensive process that spanned ten hours, we delighted in the undeniable satisfaction of our accomplishment. The fusion of art, community, and determination culminated in a remarkable workshop that joined kindred spirits. Together, we embraced the clay, nurtured our creativity, and took on the empowering task of building of our very own brick kiln.
Photography by Colin Czerwinski
