Episode Seven: "Splendid are the Heavens High...." Viewed through a Skylight

Although I have not uploaded pics or news for the past few days, my studio is progressing. Still working at my kitchen table, I have put “The Ghost of the Pfister” from my “Lost Milwaukee Series” through two more glaze firings. I’m finally done with it.  This sculpture was very demanding and kept me too occupied to write about the studio. I hope to display this sculpture at THE Fine Art Gallery for our next Gallery Night, beginning October 15.

"Lost Milwaukee Series: The Ghost of the Pfister"

In the following photos, you will see that there’s been a turtle-like progression—slow and steady—of work on the studio. The lead carpenter for this phase of construction even put in time on Saturday and Sunday. Although he is camera shy and doesn’t want a mention, I must say that his diligence and expertise have kept the studio progressing. 

On September 20, this is how the back of the house looked.

Here is the back of the house on September 25.

I took this picture tonight, facing South.  At this point the roof is on and the walls are being covered. The space on the far left will be the outside door. The other two openings are for windows.

I took this picture this morning very early.
"Splendid are the Heavens High..." Viewed through my studio skylight.

Just one month ago, this was actually the healthiest part of our lawn. Oh, dear! What happened to the grass?

A friend consoled me yesterday with this comment:  "Just wait and see what happens in the Spring."

I spoke with the Builder Greg today and met Carpenter Phil, who will be taking care of interior construction in a few days. The tile is ordered and on schedule. Greg wondered if I would like the interior ceiling all one level or if I'd like to keep a sloped ceiling on part of it around the skylight.  I asked about heating expenses and he said that since it would be so well insulated, this would not be a major concern. In that case, I will go with the slanted ceiling. He said that now it is time to think about the lighting.                                                 

Episode 6: "Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenter"

Progress is evident all around. As I look at the kitchen table and push aside ceramic glazes and brushes to make room for supper, I realize that in a couple months I will have a dedicated clay space. After years of working like this, I am really looking forward to my studio. Every day now this plan inches forward to becoming a reality.

My Kitchen

Yesterday the joists were secured and the floor was insulated. Because the windows were moved into the back yard, I now have a much better sense of how much light I will have in my studio. The architect’s drawing didn’t truly represent the size of the windows. They are Pella windows, beautifully constructed. 

The entire floor couldn’t be sealed up until the city building inspector came through. This served our purposes well, because Ana, Emily, and Megan wanted to help with the time capsule. In fact, doing a time capsule was their idea. I had purchased a cobalt blue porcelain canister with a tight-locking lid for our purposes. Before Ana and the children came over, I had gone around the house and placed several small items such as campaign buttons, coins, and old postcards into the capsule.  I also printed out a copy of this blog and some of my art documents, as well as some photos of the family and house, and a small sculpture of a turtle woman.  Ana had other ideas, though, that we should keep it contemporary—in other words, no old Nixon or Carter buttons; instead we should include the front section of Sunday’s Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.  I’m no expert on time capsules, so I agreed with whatever their plan was.  Once everything was placed inside, we sealed the top with duct tape. I asked the children what we should put on it, and they thought “Open Me” would be appropriate.  Okay! Permanent marker:  Open Me. TIME CAPSULE.  Once before I stuck a note in a wall—that was when my father and grandfather built a house for us in 1957, I think it was.  My father was putting the walls in and I wrote a letter that began, “My dad and grandpa built this house….” I don’t remember the rest.  Time capsules, I think, are more for the present day than the future. It gives people a great awareness that we are here, now…. And, of course, there is the thought that the house will continue after us, but some day, it might not continue….

Here is Ana descending to the lower depths of the studio to place the Time Capsule.

The insulation will help us make it through Wisconsin winters. This cavity will be filled in after the city building inspector gives his nod of approval.  The time capsule is slightly visible in the upper center of the picture.

Today is the last day of summer before Wednesday’s autumnal equinox. We were quite aware of summer because of the oppressive humidity and warmth after so many days of cool temperatures. Now it is a rainy evening, but great transformation has occurred in the studio:  The wall and rafters have risen and it stands skeletal in the night, draped in a fine cape of plastic tarp. The carpenter told me that the floor boards fitted together smoothly, too. I was in Cedarburg today for my study of iconography with Katherine de Shazar and didn’t get home until sunset. Of course, I immediately grabbed my camera and went outside to check on the studio. The building inspector must have been here and it must have passed inspection because the floor is entirely sealed now.

Taken this morning.  When I saw this framework with space for the windows, I realized how spacious the windows would be.  I don't think the architect's plans did this justice.  My studio will be filled with light.

When I came home from iconograpy tonight, I saw that we now have roofbeams, as well as an outer wall. The tarp is up because rain is in the forecast.  This seems to be a perfect end to the long summer!

I am presently working on a sculpture from my “Lost Milwaukee Series.” It is “The Ghost of the Pfister Hotel.” I mention it now because as I write this, it is going through its first glaze firing. Tomorrow morning before I swim, I will descend into the basement and open the kiln. Then I will go out on the back porch and check on the studio. To quote the famed but reclusive J.D. Salinger, “Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenter.”

Episode 5: And now for the Floor Joists!

Oh, Joy! Joists!

This entry will be brief.  Construction people came on Friday, brought lumber, measured, and cut it to the proper length.  They began to work on the floor.  The joists are secured on the outer side, but need to have the inner support brackets firmly attached on Monday. In the meantime, we are assembling items for a time capsule to place under the floor.  As I write this entry, I am printing out a copy of my blog this far, so it, too, can be included in the time capsule. We will put our time capsule filled with small items that reflect our lives here in this house, in this era, under the flooring before it is sealed tomorrow.

One slightly uneasy note: It rained intensely over night and the section of downspout that channels the rain water into our back yard has been removed.  However, the down spout from the roof is still there and all the rain from the rear south side of our roof now has soaked into the pea gravel.  A piece of plastic under some of the gravel wasn't enough to deter it, and we have lots of dampness in our basement now. I will ask Greg to address this problem tomorrow.

The good smell of fresh-cut lumber fills the back yard.  The joists are secured.

Episode 4: Tar, Pea Gravel, and a Table With a History and a Future

Further progress was made on the studio during September 6-11. However, I was out of town until yesterday and was unable to document it.  I know all my Dear Readers are really eager for the update, so....Here it is!The wall was waterproofed and a firm foundation was poured and cured. The back yard was further devastated by the arrival of pea gravel, which was poured into the stairwell and inner fortress area. Regarding the equally important aspect of the interior furnishing of the studio: My son-in-law Mike is in the process of giving me an absolutely grand Christmas gift. He is refinishing the ancient work table from our basement for use in my studio! (Forgive me if I rave like Eloise in the Plaza!)  This table, made of walnut, has been in our basement for perhaps one hundred years.  When we bought our house thirty-five years ago, the previous owners asked if it would be okay to leave it where they had found it since it was such a cumbersome piece. They said it had been in the house when they bought it. (I think we're only the fourth owners of this house.  George and I spent one really thrilling vacation--yeah--researching our title. An Irish carpenter built this house for his own family. The original sink was so low--I always thought he must have had a short wife.... Where the Sottiles' house now stands there was once the garden for our house, and the adjacent house was sort of a copy of this house which the carpenter also built.) Back to the table: we have used it for everything from laundry sorting to ceramics supply storage through the years. Originally, the “canning kitchen” for our house was in the basement and I am assuming this was the work table. We even noted a few blobs of peach-colored paint that was the kitchen color when we bought the house, showing that every owner had its own use for this table. (I have to say, that old paint was hard to wedge off.  Paint remover wouldn’t touch it!) This table so resonates with our house’s past, I thought it would be an ideal way to carry the mellow old-home karma into the studio. It will serve my purposes well—already so battered that I won’t have to worry about clay dust or glazes; yet beautiful in its own rustic, mismatched way. Although Mike isn’t done yet, he got the finish down to the point where he could begin to apply walnut stain and sand it down with steel wool. A few more hours whenever he can return to Milwaukee should finish the job! Then it’s just a matter of waiting for the time we can place the table in the studio.

It is now Wednesday, 9/15. Today Greg the Builder and an assistant came in with the first timbers—measured them and made ready for the flooring.  He will bring me pictures of possible doors. We will have to choose very quickly so progress can continue. Also, he’ll bring pictures of the skylight. He told me it was time to go ahead and select the flooring and recommended The Tile Store out on Hwy. 100.  Maybe we’ll do that on Saturday. 

The Basement Door and Stairwell are Waterproofed

The Cavity is filled in with Pea Gravel

Here is my Son-in-law, Mike Maahs, ready to begin stripping the table!

On Saturday morning, the table is moved to the front porch because of rain. Ana Brokmeier, my daughter, decides to become a stripper, too!

"How firm a foundation!" The Tale of the Pouring of the Cement

As I got up early and looked out the window, it seemed like Thursday would be a rainy day. At present, I’ve been analyzing weather in two ways: Will it be nice enough for progress to be made on the studio? And Will it be too humid, thus debilitating, for George? (An aside for those of you who are following my blog without previous acquaintance: George is my husband and he has multiple sclerosis. People with MS generally react badly to humidity. George really can’t take humidity.) The plan was for the building inspector to meet with the cement contractor at 10:30. I couldn’t be there because I had to take George for physical therapy. However, the contractor had said I really didn’t need to be there. When we got home around 10:45, there was no sign of anyone. I thought that perhaps everyone had come and gone and sat down at the computer to play a quick game of spider solitaire. The doorbell rang before I could finish a game. It was the building inspector—cheerful, polite, and apologetic. He had been delayed and was first arriving on the scene. I opened the gate, removing the special dachshund barricade, to let him into the back yard. He had some questions regarding what was under the cement steps leading to the basement. If the foundation was not solid, he would not give the go-ahead. There was also a concern about metal rods anchoring on to the existing structure. He said he could not come back until Tuesday, because Friday (today) was a mandated layoff day as part of the city’s efforts to save money. In my mind I saw the pages of the calendar floating away into the clouds, day by day…. Another studio delay, more days before I could sit in my studio and work. But I understood.




To my surprise and delight, the contractor and the building inspector both returned around 2:00 in the afternoon, and by evening, two cement trucks had brought their slushy mix and had filled the trench. And so the project proceeds! Being Labor Day weekend, and also giving the cement a chance to harden sufficiently, no progress has been made on the studio today. I think business will resume on Tuesday. In the meantime, I hope to work on glazing my “Lost Milwaukee: The Ghost of the Pfister Hotel” sculpture to finish it in time for THE Fine Art Gallery’s participation in the Third Ward’s October Gallery Night.

The ground-breaking begins!

The trench is complete. Notice the lovely red clay bed our house sits upon.

The cement is poured!

The trench fills, but it takes two loads of cement.  Notice the old bricks. I think I'll try to save them this weekend and use them in the garden.