treadle wheel thrown
functional stoneware
dishwasher and microwave safe 
safe in the oven if allowed to cool


About my firing: My pots are initially bisqued in an electric kiln powered by home solar. They are then glazed and fired in an insulated, downdraft hybrid kiln that uses wood and propane (following Joe Finch's design). During claybody reduction (^010-05), I introduce old tomato and pepper stakes to remove oxygen in the kiln. Removing oxygen from the iron oxide in the clay (Fe2O3  to FeO) allows the beautiful iron blue hues to emerge through my white nuka-type glaze ( The rest of the firing is in oxidation up to 2200° (^7). I switched to ^7 instead of ^10 because when I had my soda kiln, I discovered that clay and glazes in cooler spots were fine. ^7 saves about 30% of the fuel. Kentucky Mudworks makes midrange clays that don't bloat at ^7-8. At the end of my firing, I slowcool, which re-oxidizes some of the iron and creates the Gohonde (firefly) spotting effect on a few pots. Sometimes I get lucky to participate in community woodfirings. 

About my personal approach: Ever since being lucky enough to find pottery in high school in 1985, it has nourished me. Pottery centers and opens me up to some of the best things about being human. Clay gives me a direct connection to the earth; clay on the wheel connects me directly to spirals. Throughout my twenties, I thought spirals in pottery were gauche, but my infant son’s belly button was a spiral, and when he was three and we were on the train, he pointed out that there were spirals on everyone’s heads. I felt humbled and returned to honoring the spirals that the wheel creates.  

The gentle, steady kicking on the treadle wheel steadies me to focus solely on centering through spiral motion as a form of meditation.   

Pottery lets me contemplate our geological and historical past, the present moment, other people, and the universe.

Art perceived through the senses can provoke a personal feeling which can be difficult to describe. "What is essential is invisible to the eye" (Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince). The parameter of function sparks my imagination because the pot's emptiness and potential for use add layers of possibility for magic to happen in the spaces between. Pottery is felt and experienced when life happens, in community and alone, and this experience can grow and change over time. A large serving bowl can showcase something delicious, enhancing a dinner party. A cradled mug can help a person find a necessary moment of pause.

Transforming the clay through the fire’s alchemic interaction between the claybody, glaze layers, time, temperature, and atmosphere (and the kiln dogs or gods, of course) captivates me. The fire creates a visual manifestation of transformation and renewal. Fired clay becomes embodied energy from a spark in time that can last through the ages.

I find clouds endlessly inspiring. For the past few years, many of my forms, glazes, and firing techniques involve cloud and rain imagery as metaphor for the joy found inside of pain. I will continue pursuing that as long as it feels authentic.  

It is my hope that my pots can enter into that sacred realm of personal connection and contemplation.

"Humans are the only animals to have scalp whorls on the top of their heads "  - Dr. Sharad PaulAbout 🌀: Wikipedia, a journalist's article, a scientist's article  

About buying my pots: I don't make pottery to make a living, I make pottery to live. So my process is slow (I make "slow pots!" lol). But good pots need good homes, so sometimes I do sell them, either on Etsy, via custom orders, or at local sales. Follow me on instagram if you'd like to know where I am setting up or email me lyla @ lylakaplanpottery dot com

If you would like to host an exceptional experience of pottery paired with food or drink, I can curate that. See old examples here (this website can only be seen via computer, not mobile).

Ceramics Monthly - Down to Earth - LK, 2006.pdf
An article in Ceramics Monthly about pairing food and functional art with community in art galleries.
The stand-up kick pottery wheel on the cover of this very special book about the history of pottery (and abolition)  is a Klopfenstein treadle identical to the one I throw on. (Mine was made in Ohio in the 1950s). I also throw on a very old Leach treadle wheel.
Even wedging clay produces 🌀.