Maxine Krasnow

Nicolás Dumit Estévez Raful Espejo Ovalles Morel: Maxine, this will be an extensive Q&I. We have not seen each other in so long and your voice is so much needed these days. We met in 1992. That is quite a while ago. How are you, personally? How are you as a creative and activist metabolizing what is going on with our country?

Maxine Krasnow: We  have the following sign on the door to our pottery since 2002. “And so I say, problems. Think about them, and let’s have a real discussion about the whole picture. Somehow let’s keep it all on the plane we dreamed. Let’s be practical. Let’s keep it all in good fun, to roll along with the whole idea built around a place for all to work–for all who are seriously interested in any of the Ceramic Arts. To have high standards, to keep it nice, that it always may be a delight to turn to, to walk inside the pottery and leave outside somewhere, outside our door, downtown, anywhere, the cares of every day. Each time we walk in the door, to walk into a place of art, a place of simple things, not problems. Good people all tuned to the right spirit, a beautiful spirit of intention.  Can we do it?”

Ever since Trump has taken office, we have been mindful about not discussing politics in our pottery studio. It is so important that artists have places where they are safe and free to be themselves. Although we are like minded, we avoid talking about what is going on in our country because it is not uplifting however, we do share information about protests and boycotts.

I can’t really say how it would affect me creatively because for the last 3 and a half years I have been running two pottery studios. But if I was in the studio isolated doing creative work, I either would not know what was going on–or I did know, it would probably shut me down–I would be so upset it would shut me down.

If I was in the studio doing creative work, I would probably do political pieces in response to what is going on. One idea I have is to make a teapot–to make a big tea set called the bitter tea of Trump and each teacup would say things like budget cuts, no health care, deportation, genocide…

NDEREOM: Our connection is linked to Supermud Studio and to The Clay Hand Gallery in Manhattan. I was both a student and a volunteer at these places. Can you talk about these two spaces that you created in a New York City that seems to be centuries away from the one I am experiencing now, and which feels suburban and too user-friendly.

MK: I founded Supermud Pottery in 1978. It is now 47 years old. Supermud was in NYC when there was graffiti on the subways and crime on the street. Supermud was in NYC when blocks you would not walk down suddenly had cafes serving lattes for $5. When Supermud survived the gentrification of NYC I thought it was incredible, but since it has survived the pandemic, I believe, god, goddess or spirit (whatever you want to call it) is protecting that community art center.

NDEREOM: Can you talk about your beginnings working with clay and about how you started a business in one of the most expensive cities in the worldt? Would you be willing to narrate this story in detail?

MK: It's kind of a silly story. I had a boyfriend. We broke up. I was sad, and my friend Kim and Mickey were going to take pottery classes at Riverside Church, and they said, you know, come with us.

I pretty much went just to get out of the house, but it was love at first sight. I totally fell in love with clay. I was very intimidated by the wheel, and I hand-built for the first three years, and I remember my teacher, Greg Wyatt, who was my age, looked at me and said, you know, we're getting older. We have to get serious about this work, and I looked at Greg like, what are you talking about? I was doing a master's in English education. I didn't have any thoughts that I was actually going to be a potter. Maybe Greg saw something in me that I didn't see in myself.

We were such babies at that time. Greg Wyatt eventually left clay and went into metal work. We were all angry at Greg because he left clay. And he actually did this huge sculpture that people consider very important. That's in front of St. John the Divine. It’s still there. It's the one that, on the border of it, it has animals by children made in metal. I think it's symbolically supposed to be like the battle between good and evil, but I'm not really sure. It's very ornate.

I hand-built for the first three years, and I totally loved hand-building. And then I got it into my head that if I was going to be a potter, that you had to master the potter's wheel. That is actually not true, but that's what I told myself. And so, I decided that I would teach myself the wheel. And I would not suggest the way I did it.

I first studied with Tom Neubauer, who went on to be a very fine pit fire potter. After two classes with Tom, I got a Shimpo wheel. The first time I had a full-time job, my first salary was spent on my Shimpo wheel. At this point, I was married and had the wheel in the apartment with my husband. Anyway, after a while, I had a friend, Michael, who had a girlfriend, Toby. And she worked in advertising. And she had a very upscale, fancy apartment with white beech floors. And she had this little foo-foo dog. She worked more than 9 to 5. And she wanted help paying for a kiln in the basement of her apartment. So, I split that with her.

During the day, I was at Toby's house teaching myself how to throw without a teacher. I don't suggest that. I mean, I totally think that it makes sense to have a good teacher and to be in a community. But that's not the way I did it. And that worked out really well with Toby until she quit her job. Then when she quit her job, it didn't work out that well anymore. At this time, I was married, I was living at 105th Street and Broadway, and I had really gotten interested in clay, and I wanted to have a kiln in the apartment. I asked the landlord if we could install a kiln, and ultimately the landlord said no, because it involved running a pipe in front of the entire length of this building. Fortunately, I had a friend named Val who had a chess club, and Val said I could put a kiln in his chess club. He had chairs that he made from broom handle–they were fantastic.

Val was Yugoslavian, and he had a Yugoslavian friend who was an electrician who came at two in the morning and installed the kiln. And then because Val didn't want the landlord to know that there was a kiln in the space, they put it in a wooden crate, which of course is crazy dangerous, and it operated that way for probably about six months. And then fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, Val didn't have the money to pay the rent one month, and he said to me, why don't you take over the space? So I moved my wheel there, and I started working there. About six months later, the landlord walked in and said, who are you? And I said, well, I said, Val gave me the space, and I didn't know who to contact. And, that’s how I got 2nd floor space on Broadway, in Manhattan, for $160 a month. And that’s what I paid for eight years until the landlord evicted us. When I rented that space, I wasn’t teaching yet, I was basically learning to be a potter and just making pots myself. But I invited two people to join me. I can't remember their names anymore. They rented the space with me.

I have to say, I sold very, very bad pots, very cheaply to the Upper West Side community. I actually think people should not sell pots like that. At the same time, I have so much gratitude because, essentially, the Upper West Side gave me my college education. In other words, thereby, my pots helped me to become a good potter. You know, I also have always had, even now, a philosophical difference. Like, a lot of potters will take their defects, bad work, and take a hammer and break it and put it in their landfill. I had little pots that I sold for $1. And people would buy them, and then they'd put a plant in them and take them to people in the hospital. And I always thought that was a much nicer thing to do.

About a year later, I decided I wanted to start teaching, and the other two people who rented Val’s former place with me didn't, so they left. And that's when it became Supermud Pottery. I think we were there for eight years, and the landlord never raised the rent. And then one day, I got a certified letter saying that I had to be out by the end of the month. So then there was a huge battle. I hired Susan Kunstler, who was the niece of William Kunstler, who's the famous lawyer who defended the Black Panthers. And Susan Kunstler went to court for me. And I wasn't there, but I heard that she fought like a tiger, and it was a pyrrhic victory. The judge threw it out of court, and said that the landlord had taken me to the wrong court, and that they had to start all over in housing court, which was the correct court. So that would have bought me another year. Susan said to me that, Maxine, you don't have the money for this game; find a place.

One of the things that I remember, is that when we settled with the landlord, Susan called me and said, You have to be out by this date, and if you're not out by this date, you have to pay the landlord $500 a day. And I said, Susan, I'm not signing that. And Susan basically said to me, “Eat shit”. She didn't say it that way. She said, you don't have the money, just sign it. And I said, But Susan, what if I go to the hospital? She said, Then you get your friends to get your stuff out of the space. I really tried to find a place. I looked all over the neighborhood, and ultimately, I asked the building I was living in if I could bring the pottery to 212 West 105th Street. And they did. My first lease with 212 West 105th Street was I was paying $250 a month, and I think it went up 5% every year. And I started crying to my friend Ari that I couldn't afford that. And Ari said to me, Maxine, if you can't afford $250 a month, you shouldn't be in business. It must have been around 1990. Then we were there for 10 years. Anyways, my son developed asthma, and I decided to move to Tucson, Arizona. And then while I was in Arizona, 212 West 105th Street refused to renew the lease for the pottery, so, it’s not there anymore. But the pottery is still running today.

It's so incredible to me. Super Mud Pottery is basically my first kid. I later had my son Nicholas. But my first child is Super Mud, and it makes me... It's so amazing to me that it is alive and well and thriving on the Upper West Side. And who's running it? Originally, for the first 2 years, Iva Smith was running it along with Carmen Soriano and Marcella. Ultimately, Iva took it over, the other women left, and Iva has been running it. It’s still running.

NDEREOM: When I moved to the Upper West Side in Manhattan, you were one of the first people who I heard talk about consciousness-raising feminist groups and about activism. What has been your involvement with social justice? What are the shifts that you see in how we organize now, generally speaking and the way your generation did it in1970s?

MK: The largest difference is social media. In my day, we talked to each other. We showed up in person to protests. We did not think protesting was clicking likes on Facebook. Unlike my New Age friends, who tell me they are not political, I believe everything is political. Unless you are, and do not breathe air, do not drink water, we are affected by politics. And it is important to have a voice. I believe it is the responsibility of artists to be truth-tellers. Supermud Pottery was extremely political in the community. When the government tried to overthrow Roe vs. Wade, we rented buses and we filled them and went to Washington. We did that twice. I think they picked it up as 106th and Broadway. That was really impressive that we took two buses and we went to Washington. Two different times. I think it was mostly members of the Pottery and friends of people from the Pottery. The second time I went, I was eight months pregnant.

NDEREOM: Why clay? What are some of the challenges that you have faced as a single mother and as a creative? I am mentioning this personal piece of information because I know how, for you, the personal has been political.

MK: Why we fall in love with anything is a mystery and cannot be put in words. When I discovered pottery while doing a master's in English education, I thought, compared to being a poet, you could make a good living as a potter. Almost no poets make any money. Because I was female, I was supposed to marry and not make any money. So, I did not carry the burden of guilt that many male potters my age have, because they are supposed to be the breadwinners of their families. My largest challenge in being a single mother was when my son contracted asthma. When he was five years old, our family physician suggested that he put on steroids. I already knew there was a correlation between taking steroids and contracting cancer later in life. So staying in Manhattan was not an option. We moved, sight unseen, to Tucson, Arizona.

One of the challenges of being a single mother is that I really wanted to be home for my son. And I had a period where I would take part-time jobs with the idea that then I would come home and make pottery. But what you discover is that when you have a kid, not only when you have a kid in your home, that the kid needs you constantly, but also your home, so you do the dishes, you cook. So ultimately, once my son got older, I solved that by having a location that was outside the house, and it was much easier to get work done. Because I knew that if I went to that space, that I was going to be making money. So the challenge was? I think the challenge, when you're a parent, is always having to decide, do you put your children first, or do you put your career first? Katherine Hepburn said that if you're going to excel in any art, you can't remarry, you can't have children, but you have to decide that you're going to put your energy into it. And I think there's a lot of truth to that, and at the same time, I have no regrets. There's no greater blessing than children. I also think that by having a family, it makes your life more balanced.

NDEREOM: You ended up living between Tucson, Arizona and Manhattan. How was it for you to be in flux and what evolved for you creatively as result of this back and forth between these two culturally distant places?

I had a period where I spend 6 months in Manhattan and 6 months in Tucson. The time in Manhattan gave me time to do more art pots. I developed a line of thrown work where I hand-built on the top. Being in Tucson, has given me the opportunity to build and fire a Bruce Bower Wood Soda kiln. It's not a matter of right or wrong, but I totally love wood firing. And I love my Bruce Bower wood soda kiln. I know that some people think in quotes that it's real wood, because I'm only firing with 100 running feet of wood label that I soak, I put in a super saturated solution of soda ash and baking soda. There are many reasons I like it. First of all, people spend thousands of dollars to build a wood kiln. I think at the time that I built my first kiln it cost me a total of $250. You take a dead electric, you pull the coils out, you fill it with kiln cement and I think straw, and you put a refractory coating on it. The other thing I like about it is the longest I fire it for is 10 hours.

I used to do the entire firing myself and all the pots in the kiln were mine. Recently I've discovered it's really fun to do it in community, so I've been usually firing with one other person and we split the bill. And I'm getting these really juicy pots. The other thing is most people who have in quotes a real kiln fire twice a year, and they go through between two and four cords of wood. I love the fact that I'm busy so I don't always do it, but potentially I could be firing let's say once a month, which also means I can do a lot more experimenting. The instructions to build a boost-balanced kiln are online, and I recommend it to anybody who wants to do a wood-fired kiln.

I had a wood-fired, in quotes, in a real wood kiln at a workshop I did in Peters Valley when I lived in Manhattan. And I built a wood kiln in Walton New York. Louise Harter and I built a wood kiln. I bought five acres of land upstate. I already had my son. He was a baby. And Louise and the students went up and built a wood kiln on our land. We fired it with wood pallets that we would collect from the city. And the thing that I didn't understand was that I was not going to leave my baby five days to fire the wood kiln. So I virtually only fired that kiln one time. My friend John watched my son, and I went to fire it.

When I came to Arizona, I got myself in credit debt. My friend, Reinaldo Sanguino, had been saying that he wanted to buy the kiln. When he heard I had a debt, he bought the kiln from me if I promised to never use my credit card again. I was a single mom, and I wanted my son to have stuff. And, you know, the credit system is insidious, is the right word? Predatory. Yeah, it's predatory. The first time I went back after we moved to Tucson in 95. The first time I went back to Manhattan was in 1998. We took the train across country. We went to see Granny in Florida. We went to see Aunt Pat in Virginia. And, of course, we went to Manhattan.

NDEREOM: Supermud sent me to graduate school. It was at your place where I put together the portfolio that I used to apply to Tyler School of Art, where I pursued an MFA in ceramics. I saw many other people follow this road and go into very successful paths within the ceramic field. Any comments about this?

MK: One of the joys of being a teacher is how many of my students have become successful potters, clay artists and pottery teachers. Liz Lurie, Kate Lehn, Louise Harter, Reinaldo Sanguino, Ariella Pestin Owens, Aaron Noshemy to name a few. Ariella began pottery with me when she is 8.  She is now not only a talented clay artist, but a wonderful and pottery teacher at the Tucson Clay Co-op

NDEREOM: The cohort of women I met at your studio in Manhattan remains in my memory: Carmen Soriano, Iva Lee Smith, Louise Harter, and you, to name a few. Please let me know anyone I am not recalling. Did this coming together of women’s voices and presences happened serendipitously or is this something that you had in mind at the moment of giving shape to your studio?

MK: Both Supermud and the Tucson Clay Co-op are communities where woman,

LGBTQ people feel sale and welcomed.  Although both potteries have had many men over the years, they tend to be men more balanced in their male and female energies. For a long time, on our web site, we advertised that we hosted a DeConstruct Patriarchy and bell hooks reading group and that we supported Ranked Choice Voting.

NDEREOM: Your studio changed location and management when you moved to Tucson. Would you be willing to talk about this in regard to your legacy of five decades as a potter and ceramicist?

MK: When Supermud was evicted from their 105th and Amsterdam location, Ann Puddu, one of the teachers called me and asked what I wanted her to do. I said Ann organize those women–no one wants to see Supermud close. It has been so moving to me to see how a co-op of women formed, rented a large sunny  second floor space on Broadway. Currently an ex student of mine Iva Smith is running it.

The Tucson Clay Co-op AKA Muse Pottery has been around since 2000. For whatever reason I seem to be brilliant at creating community art centers. I used to be jealous of colleagues who were given more clay talent than me. The wonderful thing about getting older is self acceptance. I know I am gifted at creating community and at teaching  and accept that I am only an average potter. & of course I feel so blessed that I have been able to make a living doing something I love.

NDEREOM: Before clay became fashionable in the Art Industry there was a whole generation who had been laboring arduously to advance this field, yourself included. Even people from my generation never thought that the day would come when trendy art galleries would show artists working in this medium. With this said, I feel that there is something that has been gained and a great deal has been lost. Most the ceramic artwork I see in art shows today feels self-conscious and shallow.  In my view, there some kind of connection with the past that is missing. This is not a question and I am happy to hear from you.

MK: Capitalism is always a large problem. If an artist in any field does their work to pander to the market their work suffers and will be shallow. In any art field  if the artist does the work because they love it, the work will have feeling because it comes from the heart. Good pots  have more to say each time they are revisited.  Each potter develops their own voice, and this work has more depth which has developed organically over time. 

NDEREOM: Tell me about the work that you are doing at the moment and any changes or detours that you might intuit in your practice as grow into elderhood?

MK: I told my son and Young studio manager that I felt the Tucson Clay Co-op was my legacy and that it would not continue unless we bought a buidling. In Sept 2021, My son and I bought a 5700 square foot building on half an acre. I have been working none stop for 4 years and realize in order to be sure it continues, I need to have other people run it now. Jaren, my studio manager and Keita are running our indoor and outdoor school. I am in the processs of finding people to run the new building and look forward to spending my elderhood making pots, gardening and cooking. I feel my strongest creative work lies ahead of me

NDEREOM: I am very happy to hear the news. I was not aware of that you had purchased a building for a school.

What do you miss about the New York you experienced decades ago? I remember that my weekly grocery bill in the 1990s was $25. That would buy you a lunch in Manhattan today, perhaps not including the 20% tip that people working in restaurants need to go by in this city.

MK: LOL I love New York City. Before the pandemic, there was a period where I thought the rich has taken the soul out of the city. It began to feel like the suburbs.  Because of gentrification prices were so high, it was no longer a place artists from all of the country could afford to come and live.  Altho I do not plan to return, for me NYC will always be home. & it may sound funny, but I was glad that after the pandamic, we now have beggars on the trains, graffiti and crime.  It seems more human–more real.

NDEREOM: Am I forgetting something that you would like to talk about?

MK: No but I do want to close with the personal is political and that it is the responsibility of artists to be truth tellers

NDEREOM: Thank you so much, Maxine, your friendship and support continue to matter immensely to me.

Image above: Source unkown

Maxine Krasnow’s links: Website Tucson Clay Co-Op / Instagram / Facebook / Interview / Shout Out Arizona / Contact

Maxine Krasnow, a native New Yorker, has been making pots for over 30 years. She has studied with Makoto Yabe, Jim Makins, Ken Fergusen, Clary Ilian, Rob Forbes and her beloved mentor, Byron Temple.