The life of San Antonio ceramist Harding Black; new fawns on the Ranch

By Bebe and Sissy Fenstermaker

Harding Black, ceramics genius and master potter, has died. Recognized nationally as one of very few potters to reach master status, truly appreciated and loved by his friends and admirers, Harding generously gave everything he discovered to the ceramics world. This he did throughout his long life whenever a student or dedicated ceramist asked for help.

Born April 15, 1912 near Aransas Pass , Harding moved to San Antonio with his family in 1916. After graduating from Brackenridge High School , he attended San Antonio Junior College . His early interest in archaeology and coil style pots created by native Americans led him to try his hand. His friend Rudolf Staffel of San Antonio taught Harding to throw pots on a kick wheel set up in a chicken house in the Staffel backyard. Staffel had recently learned the method in Mexico and they worked and experimented together. Interestingly, both rose to the status of master potter.

Harding began teaching ceramic classes for the Witte Museum in the mid-30s. The classes were held in a streetcar on the museum grounds. Later, when the WPA (Works Progress Administration) moved the Ruiz house onto the grounds, that became the ceramics studio. Many people fondly remember taking those classes with “Mr. Black.”

Harding built his own studio on what was the edge of town, on Broadway, in the 1950s. Oh what came out of that studio!

Our aunt, ceramist Mary Vance Green, shared studio space there with Harding. We saw firsthand everything in progress. Built in a T-shape, the building housed an enormous kiln (designed and built by Harding) and a room for his pug mill and storage, north to south, and a big studio running eastward. The studio was one long room with long table space for working. There was a double sink, reachable from both sides, halfway down the room. Underneath the tables were tubs and vats of clay (dried and worked up) and glazes. Shelves lined the north and part of the east walls. The latest along with early ceramics were stacked on those shelves, presenting a permanent, clay-dusted retrospective. The south side was all windows which brought good light into the space. More vats, huge ceramic urns, very heavy sculptures, and a table of his famous test tiles stood along this wall. Harding's wheel and glaze bench were at the east end of the room as was his tattered old easy chair. His clay-encrusted apron hung on the back of the east door. By the chair, a stack of Ceramics Monthly magazines and the newspaper told us what he did when he took a break. His hand-thrown coffee mug was on top. He would open the back door and have a lovely view of early morning sun slanting through the retamas, huisaches, and mesquites with his coffee. His backyard was neglectfully native although I do remember seeing him mow the grass, such as it was. On the south wall outside were two ceramic assemblages. One showing Harding at his wheel was by Mary. Harding did the other of pots and jugs, halved and hung up in an arrangement. Both disappeared in the 1980s when friends heard, falsely, that Harding was closing the studio. Harding knew who took/stole the art works but never asked for them to be returned. The building was red brick and Saltillo tiles and in the front, Harding placed his handmade knobs glazed with “Harding Blue” at the corner points where the big tiles came together. The building was distinctive, pretty, and said Harding in a no-nonsense functional way.

At a memorial held for Harding at the Witte Museum last week friends, family, and admirers spoke of the wonderful spirit who had lived among us. Humble, generous, yet steadfastly dedicated to his calling, Harding had deeply touched the lives of everyone there. A surgeon who had operated on his hip told of becoming fascinated with his patient, then visiting his studio, and growing to admire him. He had been amazed at Harding's physical strength and his hands, then was overcome at the “state of his studio.” Sissy and I chuckled that what was dirt to the doctor was clay to us and expected in a ceramics studio! Others spoke of their memories of Harding and his kindness and patience with everyone. Harding's glaze samples and glaze recipe notebooks are legendary. He discovered the lost Chinese oil-spot glaze, the chun glaze, the beautiful peach bloom and oxblood glazes. Typically ceramists hoard and hides their glaze recipes. If someone wanted to know, Harding always told his formula. A nephew-in-law described Harding so well we felt he was in the room in his khaki shirt and slacks, well-used apron, white tennis shoes, and beaming smile that crinkled up his eyes. Harding had a good laugh, kind of a husky chuckle. He loved to talk and he loved to fish. He and his mother lived together until her death. They took trips to the coast to go fishing. If there was fish for supper at Mary and Grandma's house we knew Harding was just back from the coast. Harding often sent a suitcase of fish, packed in ice, by plane to his brother in Reno. Once the airline lost the suitcase for several days and when it was found everybody was quite sorry. After the memorial, we were treated to a small exhibit of Harding's work in the Ruiz house. The pieces were from several periods of his life. They were simple, elegant, and strong. A video of Harding was shown. It was done several years ago by KLRN, the local PBS station, and it captures him just as he was. We came home feeling we had had a wonderful visit with Harding again.

Bebe Fenstermaker

Gosh, the earth must have made its annual revolution. I find I'm watching does tentatively bringing one fawn at a time forward for the rest of us to admire. The tykes are amazingly tiny, not even to their mothers' knees. They are rich dark reddish, brown with of course the spots. They prance around daintily, their large, dark eyes trying to take in all that surrounds them. I've already accidentally flushed one, and the dogs and I found ourselves right on top of another which never moved a hair. So for I've seen Genevieve with a fawn in tow. However, from past experience, I know to wait and see if she'll show up one day with two.

I've noticed a change in behavior this year, a switch in dominance. Mrs. Nose has been the dominant deer around here for a long time. However, I have witnessed three ugly fights between her and Genevieve and each time Mrs. Nose was chased away. Interestingly the latter's two oldest daughters continue to lord it over Genevieve. In a way I'm saddened by the change.

A miracle has occurred at Fromme's. Flecka, the Australian Shepherd mix, experienced a sudden loss of mobility. The veterinarians couldn't diagnose the problem exactly even with the aid of exrays. With help she could stand and walk a few steps at a time. Some days she was better than others. The veterinarians were not at all encouraged by her up and down condition. Finally we took Flecka home and I continued getting her up to walk a bit, little by little, further out into the yard. She was on all kinds of pills. Our homeopathic neighbor would visit, go home to study her sources, and then give us her recommendation for treatment. Flecka did finally seem to hold her own. Bebe pointed out that she never seemed to give up but instead kept trying to get up and get moving. About that same time Bee remembered that we had gone to a woman (Donna Davis) for help with some chronic aches and pains. Donna practices Jinn Shin Juts, Swedish massage, and Ortho-Bionomy. I called her and she agreed to see Flecka. After the first session, Flecka was noticeably better. After the second session she was able to sit up on her own and once helped up on her back legs could walk about on her own without support. Donna told us she had been trained to help animals as well as people. She also said she would like to begin treating more animals.

At present, Flecka gets up on her own, walks out and would go much farther afield if I would allow it. My main concern, however, are the hidden fawns she might encounter and their irrational mothers. Last years hideous experience with that was enough for me.

Sissy Fenstermaker