The Pueblo Potters of the Southwest

Pottery, the most sought after Pueblo art today, is being made by thousands of Native clay artists, many of whom still dig, clean, and age their own clay, as well as hand-shape and coil-build pottery without the use of a potter's wheel. Potters then decorate their works with mineral and clay slips they prepare themselves, or by carving into the clay. Finally, they fire their clay outdoors in the open air, rather than in a kiln.
 

This is the age-old process used by Jody Naranjo, one of the most well-known contemporary Pueblo potters. Naranjo grew up at Santa Clara Pueblo, but moved to Albuquerque years ago to pursue a career in professional art. She still returns to the Pueblo for ceremonies and to fire her distinctive pottery. Naranjo's work is distinguished by intricately etched surfaces, portraying everything from fine geometric patterns to quaint scenes of people and Pueblo life, as well as a variety of animals, birds, and fish.
 

Naranjo consciously carries on ancient traditional techniques. In her pottery, which is always unglazed, Naranjo aims for a natural color that she describes as "rich chocolate brown." To get that tone, she encloses the pots in thin sheets of metal before firing the pottery on a brick. "Some people even use old metal cafeteria trays, or put the work inside metal milk crates," she says. Then she surrounds her pots with chunks of cedar, and sets the whole thing afire. "It burns hot and fast," she notes.
 

Most modern pottery is made from very different clay that requires overnight firings in intensely hot gas or electric kilns, but Naranjo's firings take no more than 30 to 45 minutes. "I have no idea of the temperature, because we don't use thermometers, but I've learned to judge the heat by observation," she says. About 5 to 10 minutes before the pots are done, she covers them with cow manure, which has been dried until it's fluffy.
 

"Some people use shredded newspaper," she says, "some horsehair." The manure blanket blocks the fire's source of oxygen, a step that darkens the pots. If she lets this stage go too far, the pots turn black, a distinct style in itself that some buyers prefer. If the goal is to retain the natural reds in the clay that Pueblo potters traditionally use, this step is skipped entirely, but if you're aiming for some combination -- for example, swirls of black on a red pot -- Naranjo says, "you put a whole cow pie against the pot."
 

The process, however, is not foolproof. Because these firings are done outdoors over a wood fire, without the controlled conditions inside a kiln, wind and humidity levels can create havoc, causing the pottery to crack or explode. To avoid such catastrophes, Naranjo tries to fire in either the mornings or evenings, which are the calmest times of day in her area. But even that's not always enough. "I've often waited a week or more to fire," she says. "It's so tricky. All your work can be gone in a minute!" While studying her craft, Naranjo says, she had her grandmother "giving me advice at every step. Still, I've made mistakes and heard the pots exploding in the fire. Then I just cry."