I

MAKING POTS at Harvard is a special kind of madness.

A group of students and a studio potter, laboring in the obscurity of Briggs Hall basement, have transformed a defunct kitchen into a pottery of professional quality.

"We're doing something unique here," says James Rippe '69, the potter who initiated and now heads the program. "We're providing a high-quality studio arts program for everyone in the Harvard community. Despite a lot of rhetoric, the University has done almost nothing to support the practicing arts." The University's attitude curtails--by outright neglect--the amazing student interest in creating something tangible, a clear by-product of pottery work. For students interested in experiencing art firsthand rather than through the work of others, a deep frustration exists over the lack of Harvard facilities and programs.

In its brief existence, the pottery has become a kind of haven for the disaffected; for people seeking alternative means of communication; for people wanting to work with their hands; for people angered by Harvard's rigidity. With little advertising other than word of mouth, the program's enrollment jumped from 35 in the fall of 1970 to 98 this fall. Registration for the spring semester is running ahead of the fall, and soon the pottery may be forced to abandon its policy of unlimited registration because of space constraints.

"I'd hate to limit enrollment," Rippe said, "since the lack of structure and restriction is integral to what we're doing. Many of the students who make pots here are either intimidated by the prospect of taking a course at the Carpenter Center, or couldn't get into one. I think its important for us not to throw up barriers; everyone at Harvard should have the chance to participate in this type of studio program."

RIPPE'S COMMENT implies that there should be University studios for the other practicing arts, following a model similar to that of the pottery. This would be difficult, however, through any existing organizations. For example, the House system set up small programs open only to House members, which tends to fragment and duplicate efforts in this area. House art programs tend to be someone's part-time responsibility, run haphazardly as a recreational activity involving very few people. Moreover, Houses don't have the funds to support a quality workshop. A high-quality program needs an experienced person to organize, supervise, and take responsibility for the overall direction of the program.

The response to the growth of the Briggs pottery indicates the need for these high quality programs, and its ease of functioning suggests it as a model for similar studios. But the pottery's struggle to survive with almost no formal University support calls for a re-examination of Harvard's position on the practicing arts. No program can endure on stamina alone.

II

ALMOST FROM the beginning the pottery was a fluke.

For over ten years, student requests for a pottery gathered dust on various desks around the University. When the Briggs-Barnard kitchen was discontinued in 1970, and that space became available, students again asked for a pottery. The idea received support but no action was taken until Rippe, who since graduation from Harvard has been a studio potter, offered in the summer of 1970 to set up and supervise a studio.

In response to this offer, President Bunting bent the tutor system to give Rippe the status of resident potter in South House, as well as a $1400 grant to set up the studio.

"Most potters I know have an avocation of collecting junk," Rippe mused, "but trying to set up a whole studio for $1400 made a part-time interest in junk yards into a firm commitment."

The only item that the studio has even purchased ready-made is a small electric kiln. Everything else has been either built, borrowed, or found. Rippe has built all seven potter's wheels--four at his own expense--and a small raku kiln for special firings. Instructors and students have built shelving, work tables, plaster tables, and all other equipment for the studio.

Moving into an old kitchen made life somewhat easier. The large number of sinks and shelves common in a kitchen were immediately useful to the potters. A large bread dough mixer pronounced dead by the Food Services received a new set of gears and has mixed over 30,000 pounds of clay in its new career. The large gas service and exhaust system is being converted to fire the gas kiln presently under construction.