A Winter Raku Firing: From Forgotten Slabs to Fiery Little Beauties

A fiery orange ring design with dotted detailing, framed by soft crackle from the reduction.

Some ideas arrive with a flourish. Others lounge around in the back of your mind for months, waving lazily whenever you walk past the studio shelves. This little collection of raku plaques definitely fell into the second category.

Back in the summer, I had grand plans: a handful of small, perfectly imperfect plaques decorated in a mix of vaguely Aboriginal circles and loose abstract marks. Bright underglaze transfers, spontaneous shapes, nothing too neat — just joyful little pieces you could hang on the wall or frame up in a shallow box. So far, so promising.

The clay was rolled out on the slab roller, the plaques cut freehand (square edges? absolutely not — wabi-sabi forever), dried slowly, bisque’d, and glazed in our trusty lead-free transparent raku glaze. They looked ready for their moment.

And then… they disappeared into the void. Or rather, the drying shelf. Same difference.

For five whole months they hid there — quietly gathering dust, possibly judging me — until I stumbled across them earlier this week. A surprise reunion. And with that, today became raku day.

Another variation on the circular motif, with bold contrast and smoke-kissed crackle.

The morning started bright enough as I wheeled the gas kiln onto the gravel driveway — our faithful, slightly battle-scarred fibre-lined friend with its mesh wrap and top vent. The plaques were propped against kiln bricks, the burner lit, and naturally the sun vanished as soon as the firing began. Typical.

Because the pieces were so small and thin, the kiln sprinted up to around 1,014°C in about 25 minutes, flames licking from the top vent like it meant business. Once we hit temperature, I suited up: welder’s apron, gauntlets, respirator, tinted glasses — the full raku cosplay — and lifted each plaque out glowing orange.

A lively abstract piece layered with bright orange forms, black scribbles, and tiny red dots.

One by one they went into the reduction bin filled with hay and straw, which immediately erupted into wild flame. Smoke everywhere, but that’s what the respirator’s for. After a good smothering under a wet towel, they were lifted out and dunked into cold water to freeze that delicious crackle into the glaze.

And honestly? They’ve turned out beautifully.

The circular pieces have this lovely earthy rhythm to them — fiery orange rings, dotted marks, soft crackle lines that spider across the surface. The abstract plaque has a completely different energy: vivid orange shapes layered with scribbly black lines and tiny red dots, like a little burst of movement trapped inside the clay. And then there’s the deep

A striking rust-red plaque with starburst-style patterning and energetic black splashes.

rusty-red piece, patterned almost like a starburst Shibori textile, crossed with black splatters and framed by that smoky raku edge. Together they make a surprisingly cohesive little family, even though they started life as a summer whim and a winter afterthought.

Late to the party or not, these plaques have so much charm — bright, textured, smoky, and absolutely full of that “fiery winter’s day on the driveway” spirit.

The final quartet — a vibrant, eclectic family of small raku artworks.

Sometimes the best work comes from the ideas we forget… until they remind us they’re still waiting.

If you enjoyed this little peek behind the scenes, you can browse our full collection of raku bowls, vessels and fired artworks right here — each piece made by hand and finished in our Lincolnshire studio. Explore the latest pieces.....