Some ideas strike in an instant, and others emerge slowly, with layers of imagination adding up to a finished concept. This ceramic snake was one of the latter. Over six months, I worked to capture the grace of a serpent holding itself in the shape of a swan. The process involved research, model-making, carving, hollowing, reassembly, and finally, the long drying and firing process. I owe a huge amount of gratitude to Beth Cavener, whose ceramic workshop taught me the details of how to achieve a large-scale work that can survive the kiln – she is a genius as a sculptor and a master at the hollowing technique.
Here’s a look at the journey from concept to completion.
Research & Inspiration
I began by gathering references, studying the way snakes coil, balance, and hold their weight. The green tree python, with its elegant draping over a branch, was my major inspiration. I also looked at cross-sections of snake anatomy to understand how their muscles and skeletons influence their shape.
Miniature Model
I wanted to find a pose that a snake could coil it’s body to take on the shape of a swan, in a way that would be elegant and beautiful but also believable. It took hours of playing with modeling clay on a much smaller scale to find the form that was right. With that model in hand, I photographed it and printed it at the much larger size that the ceramic would be. That life-size printout allows me to take measurements and plan the internal scaffolding that will hold it up as I sculpt the clay.
Carving & Sculpting
I began by blocking clay into the overall shape, then carving and shaping to match the aesthetic of the smaller model. I left room for myself to adjust the pose of the coiled body, and it is somewhat different from the original model.
Hollowing the Sculpture
To reduce weight and most importantly prevent cracking in the kiln, I had to hollow out the sculpture. This meant cutting the snake into sections, each about 4 to 6 inches long, and carefully scoop out the excess clay. I then joined those into longer sections, and joined those again, building up the length and structure. It was a delicate balance—too thin, and it might collapse; too thick, and it could explode during firing. Each piece had to be reattached seamlessly at just the right time, while it was wet enough to be workable but dry enough to hold its own weight. All of that was complicated by the fact that I didn’t want the snake’s body to rest on itself – I wanted an underlying sense that there is no comfort in this beauty. Nowhere does the snake’s body touch itself. There are millimeter gaps between every coil, meaning the piece is one uninterrupted 12-foot piece of ceramic wrapped into the shape of a swan.
Drying
Since this was my first piece, I was terrified of exploding it in the kiln. I let it dry for a solid month, taking that time to sand the dry clay to achieve the smoothest possible texture. I think I also waited a bit longer because I was pleased with the piece and didn’t want to lose it to the kiln.
Firing
After months of work, the sculpture finally went into the kiln. Loading it in was precarious, with just inches to spare on every side. Lifting it in was nerve-wracking, since I felt like the unfired clay could snap at any time.
After a day of firing and a day of cooling, we opened it up to find a perfectly fired piece – I can’t tell you how relieved I was!
This piece pushed my patience and technical skills, but I’m so happy with the result and it was worth the effort. The balance between movement and stillness, structure and fragility, gave the finished sculpture a presence I had hoped for from the start. I’m already thinking about how to evolve this technique for future pieces!
