Throwing a vase that tilts like wind-bent cypress trees

The cypress trees that cling to the cliffs near Byron Bay and the twisted coastal pines along the Great Ocean Road have shaped how many Australian potters think about vertical forms. Their trunks lean sideways for decades before gravity wins, and the resulting silhouette feels both fragile and inevitable. Amelia Johannsen grew up watching the same kind of trees along the Mediterranean, and her recent vases borrow that posture. If you want to capture that gesture on the potter's wheel, you have to let go of the old habit of forcing symmetry and instead let the clay lean as you throw.

Throwing a tilting vase is less about mastering a tricky technique and more about training your eye to read natural movement. The form should look as though a steady wind has been pressing against it for a season, not as though you bumped the wheel. With the right preparation and a few careful moves on the wheel, you can produce pieces that feel rooted and alive at the same time.

Reading the tree before you touch the clay

Spend real time with wind-shaped trees before you centre a lump of clay. Drive out to Cape Leeuwin in the south-west of Western Australia and watch how the coastal pines bend eastward away from the prevailing wind, or wander through the cypress groves near the Barossa Valley vineyards in South Australia where the trees lean over the paths in unison. Photograph them from ground level, then from a low angle looking up. Notice how the trunk thickens on the windward side and how the canopy seems to flow horizontally rather than reaching for the sky. Carry those observations into the studio as quick charcoal sketches pinned above your wheel.

When you begin to design your vase, decide on the direction of the lean before you even wedge the clay. Will the piece tilt forward, away from the viewer, or curl gently to one side as if catching a single gust? Mark that direction on your bat with a small arrow in soft pencil so the decision is committed and visible. Without a chosen wind, your vase will simply look off-balance rather than intentional.

Preparing your clay body and wheel

A piece that holds a strong lean needs a clay body with enough tooth and plasticity to stay put under stress. In Australia, many studio potters lean on a grogged stoneware for this kind of work, or blend in a little of the local Victorian Southern Ice porcelain for a smoother shoulder. Wedging should be thorough but not so aggressive that you strip the clay of its memory. Aim for a wedge that feels supple and just slightly cool against your palm.

Your wheel needs to be solidly anchored, especially if you are throwing larger work that will take some force to pull off-axis. Bolt the wheel head securely, and use a batt system with a firm mechanical clip rather than a slip-and-press fit. A wobble at the base will translate into a wobble halfway up the wall, and you will spend the rest of the throw fighting your own equipment. Check the wheel for run-out before you begin, and confirm that your stool height allows you to keep both elbows close to your ribs.

Centering with an intentional lean

Most vases start with a centred cone, but here you want a cone that already knows which way it intends to fall. Brace the clay off to the side of the wheel head so that when you apply pressure with your lower hand, you are deliberately pushing the mass sideways. Let the clay shift in the direction of your chosen wind. Close your upper hand over the top and feel the moment the lump settles into its leaning posture.

Once the off-centred mass is stable, cone it down and then re-cone it upward, always applying slightly more pressure on the side opposite the lean. The idea is to build a wall that is subtly thicker where the wind will press hardest against it, just as a real cypress grows extra wood on its windward face. By the time you open the form, the clay should already feel as though it is leaning into a quiet breeze.

Pulling the walls with a curved spine

Pulling a tilted wall is a conversation between your inside and outside hands. Your supporting hand inside the form follows the natural arch of the trunk, while the outer hand steadies the wall without flattening the curve. Begin with a short pull at the base to establish the lean, then move upward in stages rather than trying to raise the full height in one motion.

Allow the side that leans into the wind to rise a little taller and fuller, and keep the opposite side slightly thinner and lower. You are not trying to make a wavy rim but to honour a single, sustained pressure. Breathe out as you pull, and resist the temptation to overwork the section where the wall curves most. Pause between pulls to let the clay relax, just as a tree trunk relaxes between gusts.

Shaping the mouth and shoulder

The shoulder and rim are where the lean either sings or collapses. After the wall is pulled, collar the rim by gently squeezing from both sides, allowing the opening to oval slightly along the axis of the tilt. If you want a soft, swelling shoulder, ride your thumb along the inside curve with very light pressure and let the outer sponge follow.

A subtle oval mouth tells the eye that this vessel has been breathing in the wind for years rather than just minutes. Smooth the transition with a wooden rib or a soft chamois, but never flatten the curvature entirely. The shoulder should feel like a question asked of gravity, an invitation for the eye to travel upward and then outward.

Trimming the foot to honour the tilt

Once the vase reaches a firm leather hard, flip it onto a wheel-mounted chuck or a snug foam pad and trim the foot. This is where many throws lose their sense of purpose, so take your time. Mark the centre point based on the original lean, not on the new flipped position. Cut a foot ring that is slightly deeper on the windward side and shallower where the piece will need to balance.

Use calipers to check that the untrimmed thickness is even on the compressed side and the leaned side. A vase that leans visibly but stands firmly is a small miracle of engineering, and it rewards careful trimming. If the piece wobbles in dry form, it will only wobble more once glaze and weight are added.

Glazing and firing for organic movement

The right glaze can amplify the sense of movement without hiding the form. Choose a glaze that breaks softly over the rim and shoulder, the kind you might see on the wood-fired work coming out of studios in the Adelaide Hills or in the salt-firings of Bega. A gentle celadon with iron specks, or a tenmoku that pools in the lower curves, will emphasise the direction of the lean. Avoid glossy, uniform glazes that read as factory-made and erase every nuance of your throwing.

Fire to a temperature that lets the clay body hold its posture, usually between cone 12 and 10 for most grogged Australian stonewares. Allow the piece to cool slowly so any micro-stresses from the off-centre pull can settle. When you pull the finished vase from the kiln, set it on a level surface and watch how it holds its own weight. A well-made wind-bent vase should look as if it has been standing that way for a century, waiting for the next gust to pass.

If you feel drawn to explore this kind of organic pottery, the workshop calendar at Amelia Creations keeps you close to new sessions and finished pieces. Whether you are a Sydney-based collector, a hobbyist in Hobart, or simply a lover of natural forms, you will find seasonal clay sessions, behind-the-scenes process notes, and pieces waiting for a quiet shelf of their own.