Who are the kiln gods anyway?
The origins of the kiln gods and our attempt to influence the elements
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Potters can be superstitious people. There, I said it. It’s not as if we don’t know what exactly is happening in the kiln (because we do). Chemistry explains it all. You should hear me talk to my students about how “nothing in the kiln is magic”; even though, with the same breath I also managed to convince Kate, my studio co-founder, to program a ridiculously slow first bisque fire with our new second kiln, because the very first fire in our very first kiln was a disaster and I had a feeling that something was going to happen. What can I say: we contain multitudes.
Even with our all knowledge and understanding, we still cannot physically be in the kiln to watch materials turn to glass, can we? There is still a little element of unknown: heat accumulates differently across the kiln and, even when all the variables are kept constant, there can be surprises. Traditionally, as people, when we do not understand something, we tend to turn to folklore or religion.
Ever since I started pottery, I’ve been hearing the terms kiln gods mentioned liberally and often. I have to be honest: I’ve been smug about this. I discourage my students from shrugging and say “don’t know what happened here”, because I believe the beauty lies in understanding these seemingly magical events.
Then last weekend, I took part in a pit firing workshop (more on this another time), and when the pit was closed and the fire lit, we all stood in a circle and quickly modelled a clay figurine to place on the pit, to ask the kiln gods for safe passage of our work. This felt somehow more appropriate for a firing that involves quite literally setting the clay on fire in a field and hoping for the best. However, I only have one mode when it comes to anything ceramics: hungry for understanding, borderline obsessive. I don’t have a grey area, where I am mildly interested in something. No. I must spend hours (days, at this point) researching and reading about a topic. My mind would not rest until I figured out where exactly this tradition comes from and why.
It turns out, it’s complicated. (And this post will probably be the first in a series).
Where do kiln gods come from and what sacrifice do they want?
There are fire and kiln gods in many cultures, and it turns the idea of wishing leniency upon a deity for good pots is as ancient as pottery itself.
Among the Homeric Epigrams, short poems originally attributed to Homer and probably composed in the 5th century B.C1, we find the famous poem devoted to kilns. It mentions the five Daemones Ceramici, ceramic spirits who curse the potters and their pots. The story behind this poem is that this is a song Homer sang to the potters on the island of Samos2.
If you will pay me for my song, o potters,
then come, Athena, and lay thy hand above the kiln!
May the kotyloi and all the kanastra turn a good black.
may they be well fired and fetch the price asked.
many being sold in the marketplace and many on the roads.
and bring in much money, and may my song be pleasing. But if you turn shameless and deceitful.
then do I summon the ravagers of kilns.
both Syntrips ("Smasher") and Smaragos ("Crasher") and
Asbetos ("Unquenchable") too, and Sabaktes ("Shake-to-Pieces”) and Omodamos ("Conqueror of the Unbaked”), who makes
much trouble for this craft.
Destroy the stoking tunnel and chambers, and may the whole kiln
be thrown into confusion, while the potters loudly wail.
As grinds the horse's jaw, so may the kiln grind
to powder all the pots within it.
[Come, too, daughter of the Sun, Circe of many spells.
cast cruel spells, do evil to them and their handiwork.
Here too let Cheiron lead many Centaurs.
both those that escaped the hands of Herakles and those that perished.
May they hit these pots hard, and may the kiln collapse.
And may the potters wail as they see the mischief.
But Ishall rejoice at the sight of their luckless craft]
And if anyone bends over to look into the spyhole, may his whole face
be scorched, so that all may learn to deal justly.3
Hesiod had a thing for curses, by the way. In his poem “The works and the Days”, which is generally believed to be a series of instructions on how to live life properly as a farmer, he wrote:
“A pot unblessed by sacrifice brings harm;
Don’t ever eat or wash from such a pot…
Never, when drinking, leave the ladle in
The mixing bowl; that brings a fatal jinx”4
In Japan, the kiln gods are referred to as kama no kami, and it is tradition to offer salt and sake to the deity before a firing begins.5
However, the true origins of the kiln gods are in China. And that’s where we will spend the rest of this post.
If you google “kiln gods exhibition”, you will find a plethora of works dedicated to the tradition of placing figurines on top of kilns in the United States, even though it is unclear how this tradition actually began.
There aren’t that many pieces of writing devoted to this topic (I know because I got them all). The most in depth publication is a book published in 2012 by Martie Geiger-Ho (Ph.D) titled “The Worship of Kiln Gods: From the Temples of China to the Studios of Western Potters”.
In her book, Dr. Geiger-Ho argues that Western traditions to place figurines on top of or at the entrance of kilns derives from Chinese kiln gods folklore, even though the Chinese tradition never involved the placing of figurines.
In mainland China and Hong Kong, worshiping kiln gods involves the performance of rituals in the temple dedicated to that specificity deity.6 Visitors usually burn incense and leave gifts or money in the collection box dedicated to the maintenance of the temple.7
There are a number of kiln deities in China. Probably the most famous tale is about T’ung Bun (renamed Feng Hue Hsien as a god), also known as “Genius of the Fire Blast”. It is told that, around 1700 in Jingdezhen, T’ung sacrificed himself by jumping into the kiln, to make sure that all the porcelain inside fired perfectly, so that his fellow potters would escape the vengeful wrath of the emperor.8 In another version of this story, the sacrifice allowed for the discovery of reduction copper red glaze.9
Another story that is quite interesting and that also involves ending up in the kiln, is that of Ning Fengzhi, a pottery master god. In one version of this myth, Ning Fengzhi discovered that clay can be hardened by fire, hence inventing pottery as a whole. Later on, working as a potter for the emperor, he fell into the kiln as he was about to drop more wood into the fire. It is said that in that instant he became immortal.10
Further deities exist in other cities and once-important pottery production centres. Most of them have temples dedicated to their worship and some can still be visited today.11
Conclusion
Ceramics has a special allure. While we have learned to control most aspects of the craft when using an electric kiln, the completion of the chemical reaction required to make vitrified clay and melted glass, necessitates for pots to be heated at earth-core-like temperatures. As jaded as we may want to be by our in-depth understanding of chemistry, we still marvel at the astonishing process and, yes, find something magical in it. I don’t assume I have provided with a comprehensive overview of kiln deities in various cultures. I intend to write more about it. If you have a specific tradition you follow before you fire a kiln, let me know in the comments!
A Collection of Curses against Kilns (Homeric Epigram 13.7-23), by CHRISTOPHER A. FARAONE, p.435
Ibid
Ibid
Quoted in Ceramic: Art and Civilisation, Paul Greenhalgh, Bloomsbury, 2020, p.81
Japanese Ceramics: Spellbound by the Kiln Gods, by Jon Morgan, https://www.seaceramic.org.sg/japanese-ceramics-spellbound-by-the-kiln-gods/
The worship of kiln gods: from the temples of China to the studios of Western potters, by Martie Geiger-Ho (Ph.D.), Outskirts Press, 2021
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
Ibid
Really enjoyed reading this, thanks for sharing. I giggled at the thought of how many of us would actually climb into the kiln as witness cones of we could, ha!