Piece of Cake
So I had this idea to create a set of plates that would function as both a set of plates, but also a cake stand. I was thinking about how cakes are often the kind of food one shares with a group, and how fun it could be to have a special set of plates that is designed specifically to share and eat cake with. The working title for the piece was something along the lines of “have/eat”, because with this piece you actually can have your cake and eat it too! I loved the idea of using each plate to create a layer of the cake, and also using actual piping techniques to decorate the cake with a thicker slip. I hit many a road bump in this process, but I am sufficiently pleased with the end result despite it all.
The initial idea featured a set of removable ceramic candles that would also act as the legs of the cake stand. I wanted them to be removable specifically for storage and packing reasons, because realistically that would be the safest option. My plan was to make two molds for the plates— one with a foot ring to create the lower layers of the cake, and one that had the divots for the candles to fit in that would be the top layer of the cake. I knew there was a not-entirely-insignificant chance that those divots would prove challenging, or that the structural integrity of the cake stand idea may not work out, but I went ahead as planned with the understanding that I may need to pivot in my plans for the piece.
And of course, that is exactly what happened.
It was honestly kind of a reach from the beginning, but I wanted to at least try to make it happen. I had considered designs where the candles attached to the plate with magnets or something, but I felt that they would have needed to be able to have a more positive connection to the plate if they would be bearing the weight of not only the plate itself, but also potentially a whole cake. So having divots that went into the body of the plate felt like the correct choice, even though I knew it may not even demold properly. Lo and behold, as I was removing my prototype from the plaster after making the first mold, all but two of the divots were stuck in the model. Bummer, but no biggie. I knew that was likely to happen. I removed the extra bits of plaster and sanded the mold almost totally smooth, so I could still see the places where I wanted the candles to go, but they wouldn’t be divots anymore. Luckily, I had a backup plan for this from the very beginning: each candle was going to be surrounded by a swirl of “frosting” to help keep them in place in addition to the divots. I figured that could still work out without them, so I pushed on. I made my second mold for the other plate form (and if I had thought ahead, this is where I would have made two of those molds…) and got ready to switch to clay mode.
Also worth mentioning, this is the first piece I was making for my grad school application portfolio. I had bought my kiln back in May, but between work, remodels happening at the house, and the various other factors that cause delays in life, I wasn’t able to get it set up until August. With application deadlines as early as December, I was in a bit of a time crunch from the very start. Because mold making and 3D printing are both fairly time-consuming processes, I didn’t have time to go back to the drawing board for every little thing, so I had to be really okay with watching my vision change on the fly. I think, despite my perfectionist tendencies, I can be ok with some amount of that, but it certainly helps to mentally prepare myself for frustrations and disappointment.
When the molds were finally dry enough to start casting, I learned very quickly that these plates were going to be a huge pain in the butt. Because of the way I designed the foot rings on these plates, they have to be cast solid before I can drain the molds. And somehow, for whatever reason, these molds required an hour to cast to the correct thickness. (I still don’t quite know what the deal is with that, to be perfectly honest.) Then after casting for an hour, I would drain the excess slip. Then I let them dry without flipping the mold over so that the residual slip would level out the bottom of the plate instead of draining. Despite the fact that it then took about another 24 hours to dry each cast, it actually worked fairly well! (As long as I was patient enough not to touch it and create finger prints in the casts… And I wish I could say I only made that mistake once, but I am simply the most impatient person in the world.) The slow turn around time on each cast was definitely a point of frustration in the process, but I had no choice but to make it work.
Once I figured out how to deal with casting the forms, I could move on to decorating! Seems like the fun part, but it was arguably the most frustrating. The piping and decorating part was definitely lots of fun; I was able to make a decently good piping slip using epsom salts to flocculate my casting slip, and I used actual cake decorating tools! What was not fun was every single issue that came with it. The plates had to be fairly dry to come out of the molds, and then on top of that they had to be moved and handled very carefully to minimize the chances of warping. Another consideration was the difference in wetness between the cast plates and the piping slip, which meant there was a high chance of things not adhering properly, or cracking, or perhaps even both! I had to dry things out super slowly and carefully to avoid as many issues as possible.
Another bump in the road was that I had initially envisioned a world in which I could cast these plates and then arrange them on top of each other as I decorated, so that they would have a more cohesive look. In an ideal scenario, I could have decorated them like I would a real cake, and then go in after and cut piped details apart at the “seams” of the plates, so I could do nice swags of icing and other such things. It ended up being impossible to work on them like that, due to the fact that I could basically only cast one plate every two days, and also because they were so easily prone to warping, and also had to be a particular dryness for the piping to work, and also– well. I could keep going, but the point is that plan was not gonna work, so I pivoted yet again. I had to work on each plate individually, which meant trying to make icing designs on each single layer that would work in tandem with other decorations without actually being able to confirm that they would. I think they came out ok on this first version, but let’s just say I consider every part of this process a valuable learning experience.
Around the point where I realized these plates were a challenge enough without adding moving parts that require a certain level of structural integrity, I abandoned the idea of making the top plate function as a cake stand, and I scrapped the ceramic candles idea. I still wanted there to be candles on this cake, so the frosting on the top still serves as a way to support candles, but the solution there was to resign myself to using regular wax birthday candles as purely adornment. Maybe another iteration of this project will allow me to return to that idea, but I can live without it for now.
From the beginning, I knew I would be relying on commercial glazes for this piece, because my home studio setup simply wasn’t the place to try to formulate my own glazes. I also knew that commercial glazes were more likely to have the range of colors I wanted, so that was the route I took for this cake. And that would have been perfectly fine, if not for the fact that the pink glaze I wanted would burn out at cone 6. That’s fine, I can pivot again. I decided to go for a “bisque high, glaze low” approach. I would bisque fire the plates to their final temperature at cone 6, then glaze them and fire once more to cone 06 to preserve the color of the glaze. I had done this before, but I guess I forgot just how much of a pain it is to do that.
I was duly reminded that it is indeed quite a pain.
So I spent way too long glazing each piece, because not only do you already have to be extra careful when painting glazes (so as not to disrupt previous layers,) but also the clay was already vitrified, so the surface wasn’t absorbent. Basically, things took a long time to dry. It was also pretty tricky to glaze the piped details neatly, so I think if I ever revisit this project I will just bite the bullet and use mason stains. Yet another lesson learned!
Despite the many trials and tribulations that I experienced during this project, I ended up with a piece that I am really quite proud of, and decently happy with! The working title of Have/Eat made way for “Piece of Cake,” both because that felt more accessible as a title and also because even if I am the only one who understands it, I do enjoy the irony.
I am hoping that I will eventually feel a pull to revisit this idea, because I would really like to make it a layer cake in the next version! But until then, I think I have had enough cake for now.
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I Made You a Cake
Ok I know the previous blog ended with saying I am done with cake, but there is in fact another cake to discuss.
I made a second cake shortly after the first. For this cake I used what I learned from the last set, and that helped a bunch! Generally I was more mindful of slowing down and allowing things to take the time they take, which was a huge part of not getting as frustrated with these. I do also think I got the piping strategy down a lot better. The biggest difference in this piece from the other one (aside from the piping designs) is that I cut each plate down about half an inch to give the plates less depth, and make a set of plates that had more plates without being absurdly tall. It was tricky to make sure they all still had level rims, but I made it work. Overall, I was way happier with this cake in pretty much every way.
Until I fired it.
It absolutely was.
To make an outdated and somewhat niche reference:
the cake is a lie.
Devastatingly, the kiln overfired and all of the plates in this set warped. I was about as heartbroken as I have ever been over a firing disaster on this one, because I was SO excited to improve upon the first design, and see the pretty green and pink cake come together. In the end, the warping was so extensive that these plates don’t actually fit together at all.
I had planned my portfolio work and submissions to include this piece, and I was really counting on being able to use it. By the time I was firing this work, it was nearing the end of December and I needed to start documenting things. There was no time to remake it, and I had already invested so much time and energy into making it as it was, so I needed to figure out how to photograph it at least vaguely convincingly enough. I am honestly not sure how well that went over on my applications, or if anyone even noticed. But I managed to get into an MFA program, and it seems convincing enough to most people, so that is a small win out of this disaster I suppose.
With a combination of careful camera angles, balancing, and some museum putty, I managed to take photos of this piece in a way that at least got the point across. I hate that it isn’t actually a functional piece, and I still don’t know what to do with it. The magnitude of the failure in contrast to the amount of work that went into it kind of took the wind out of my sails for the desire to continue to iterate on this idea any time soon, but I think I will eventually come back to it. If there is one thing I have learned as a ceramicist, it is to never get too attached to things. On the first day of my first ever ceramics class, my instructor said “clay will humble you,” and I have always kept that in mind.
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