My process for developing a new glaze from scratch
A new glaze begins long before I mix minerals in the studio. It often starts with a colour seen on a Pacific Northwest shoreline, the softened blue of Mediterranean water, or the rough grey-green surface of a weathered stone. I collect these impressions as visual references, then translate them into a practical ceramic finish.
Glaze development is part chemistry, part observation, and part patience. The goal is not simply to produce a beautiful colour in a mixing bowl. A successful glaze must suit the clay body, mature at the intended firing temperature, fit the form, and create the right surface when light moves across it.
My work in Barcelona often moves between functional pottery, decorative plates, sculptural pieces, and abstract art. Each new glaze has to respond to those different surfaces while still feeling connected to the natural language behind my practice. The finished pieces can be viewed through the Amelia Creations portfolio, where colour, texture, and form come together.
Starting with a visual idea
I begin by defining the feeling I want the glaze to carry. It might be a chalky white resembling sun-bleached rock, a deep blue with the depth of open water, or a muted green that suggests moss after rain. I avoid starting with a recipe because a formula without a visual purpose can lead to endless adjustments without a clear direction.
I create a small reference board using photographs, fragments of paper, natural objects, and notes about texture. I pay attention to whether the surface should feel glossy, satin, dry, translucent, speckled, or layered. A glaze that looks attractive in a sample jar may be completely wrong for a delicate plate or a softly curved sculpture.
The form also influences the initial decision. A flowing glaze may emphasise the movement of a vessel, while a stable matte surface can support the quiet geometry of a wall piece. I consider where the glaze will gather, break, pool, or thin before I make the first test batch.
Building the first glaze recipe
Once the visual target is clear, I choose a base glaze. This usually includes silica for glass formation, alumina to control viscosity, and fluxes that help the glaze melt at the desired temperature. I may also work with commercially prepared bases when the project calls for a faster or more predictable starting point.
Colourants and opacifiers come next. Metal oxides and ceramic stains can shift dramatically depending on the clay body, kiln atmosphere, thickness, and firing schedule. Copper, iron, cobalt, manganese, and rutile each bring their own behaviour, from subtle speckling to strong colour movement. Small percentages matter, so I weigh every material carefully.
I keep the first test deliberately simple. Changing too many ingredients at once makes it difficult to understand what caused a result. My notebook records the recipe, batch weight, water content, sieving process, application method, kiln shelf position, firing temperature, and final observations.
Testing colour, texture, and movement
Small test tiles are essential because glaze behaviour cannot be predicted fully from a written recipe. I usually make several tiles from the same clay body and apply different thicknesses. One may receive a thin coat, another a medium coat, and a third a heavier application. This reveals whether the glaze becomes transparent, cloudy, dry, or overly fluid.
I also test the glaze on a form with curves and edges. A flat tile is useful, but it does not show how the surface behaves on a rounded cup, a rim, or a recessed decorative detail. For pieces with a gentle light effect, I study the way the glaze reflects and diffuses illumination; this is especially important when developing objects related to my soft-glow candle holder guide.
The first firing gives me information rather than a final answer. I look for pinholes, crawling, blisters, excessive running, dry patches, and areas where the colour has become too strong. I photograph each test in consistent light and compare it with the original visual reference.
Comparing glaze variables
A controlled test grid helps me make decisions without relying on memory. I might vary one colourant across several percentages, compare two fluxes, or test the same glaze at different thicknesses. The aim is to identify a reliable range rather than chase a single lucky result.
| Variable | What I observe | Why it matters |
|---|---|---|
| Clay body | Colour shift, absorption, surface interaction | The same glaze can look warmer or cooler on different clay |
| Application thickness | Transparency, pooling, dry areas | Thickness often changes both colour and texture |
| Firing temperature | Melt, gloss, stability, movement | A glaze must mature without becoming dangerously fluid |
| Colourant level | Hue, intensity, speckling | Small changes can transform the finished surface |
| Cooling schedule | Crystals, matte quality, variation | Cooling can influence depth and visual character |
| Placement in kiln | Heat and atmosphere differences | Samples may reveal hot or cool zones |
After each firing, I change only one or two variables. This slows the process, but it creates useful knowledge. A glaze is much easier to reproduce when I understand its working range instead of depending on an accidental combination of conditions.
Refining the surface for the artwork
A glaze may be technically successful and still fail artistically. If the colour is right but the surface competes with the form, I adjust the recipe or application. My decorative plates often benefit from controlled variation, while a small sculpture may need a quieter finish that allows the silhouette to remain visible.
I test how the glaze responds to brushing, dipping, pouring, and spraying. These methods produce different layers and edges, and they can be used deliberately. A thin wash over a darker base may create depth, while a second glaze brushed near the rim can create a subtle break or halo.
Food safety and durability also influence the decision for functional pieces. I check that the surface is stable, properly fired, and appropriate for its intended use. A beautiful experimental finish belongs on a sculptural object if it cannot meet the practical requirements of a serving vessel.
Recording the final working recipe
When a glaze reaches the right balance of colour, surface, movement, and reliability, I make a larger batch. Before using it on an important piece, I repeat the test to confirm that the result was not a one-time success. Consistency matters, especially when several pieces need to belong to the same collection.
My studio notes include the exact ingredient percentages, sieve size, specific gravity, mixing date, number of coats, drying time, kiln program, and shelf location. I also record what I would change next time. These notes become a growing personal glaze library and make future development more intuitive.
Even a finished glaze remains open to discovery. Different forms, firing loads, and atmospheric conditions can reveal new variations. That unpredictability is part of the appeal: the recipe creates a structure, but heat, material, and handmade application complete the conversation.
Studio habits that keep experiments useful
- Begin with a clear visual reference instead of adding colourants at random.
- Change one major variable at a time so every test teaches something.
- Make test tiles in multiple thicknesses and include a curved sample.
- Photograph fired results under consistent lighting and label every piece.
- Keep a detailed recipe and firing log for repeatable future batches.
Developing a glaze from scratch is a gradual way of learning how ceramic materials communicate. Each test brings the surface closer to the original landscape, memory, or sensation that inspired it, while still allowing the kiln to contribute its own unexpected marks.
I share that process through finished pottery, decorative work, sculpture, workshops, and hands-on clay experiences in Barcelona. Follow Amelia Creations to see new surfaces emerge, discover available pieces, and join future studio events where experimentation becomes part of making.