By Joel Brown
The Boston Globe
Globe Correspondent
October 18, 2012
LOWELL — The kiln somewhat resembles a temple, with its two colors of brick, the arch above its door, and the chimney tower.
Inside the ware chamber sits a treasure trove of traditional
Cambodian ceramics, all made in Lowell: teacups, pitchers, and water
jugs in subtle earth tones, plus vase-like pots for cooking oil or honey
or wine. Most are unadorned, a few shaped like elephants or bearing the
face of an owl.
On this Tuesday afternoon in late September, most are still warm to the touch.
Yary Livan climbs halfway inside the kiln and pulls each piece out
carefully, with a look of pride behind his glasses. He has been waiting
for this moment, and not just since Saturday, when the wood-fired kiln
was lit for the first time. He has been waiting for many years.
“I am very, very happy, very, very excited,” he says mildly. “It is a
dream come true.” He holds out a pot for inspection: “And: success!”
Livan, 58, has been a ceramic artist since he was a young man. He
survived the Khmer Rouge’s killing fields and came in 2001 to the United
States, where he was granted political asylum. Landing among Lowell’s
large Cambodian community, he resumed practicing the art, which just a
handful of other survivors know. He shared his knowledge at area schools
and studios, including a new job this fall teaching as an adjunct
professor at Middlesex Community College. But he had always found only
modern, gas-fired kilns to work with. He wanted a traditional wood-fired
kiln.
Now he has one, thanks to a project sponsored by Middlesex Community
College and the Lowell National Historical Park. The kiln is outdoors
under a roof on a piece of land on Aiken Street that was provided by the
park.
The kiln project “celebrates and shares a centuries-old Cambodian
tradition that very few people know about, but that people can take
pride in, and that without stabilizing support may disappear from
practice,” said Margaret Rack, a professor of art at Middlesex.
Livan revels in the difference the wood-fired kiln makes.
“See this?” he said running a fingertip over a small pot’s artfully mottled colors. “This you get with smoke.”
It is a random, natural process, the glazing affected by the heat
and smoke and ash passing through the kiln’s ware chamber from the
firebox to the flue. And every piece is unique. “You have only one of
these in the world, not two,” he said of the pot, “because it is from a
wood kiln.”
The pot designs date back to the ancient Angkor kingdom, and Livan
says there are few original examples left, thanks in part to the
upper-class tradition of occasionally secreting a piece of gold or a
precious stone inside the clay. Over the centuries, he says, Cambodians
smashed many of the pots looking for the valuables.
“It is a poor country,” he says.
Livan was studying at the Royal University of Fine Arts in the
capital city of Phnom Penh when the Khmer Rouge came to power in the
1970s. As part of the regime’s brutal upheaval of the country, he and
his family were sent to a work unit in the countryside. His mother saw
the Khmer Rouge trying and failing to build a kiln to make roofing
tiles.
She took a risk and told them that her son knew how to build a kiln.
When they came to get him, he thought he was being taken to be killed,
as many others had been. But instead he was given food to strengthen him
for the kiln job. He now believes it saved his life. Later, after the
Khmer Rouge were driven from power, he resumed his studies.
He and his wife, Nary Tith, met at the university in Phnom Penh in
1982 and married two years later. Livan was accused of working with an
opposition party and they fled to a refugee camp at the Thai border,
then were moved to another and another, before eventually being
repatriated back to Cambodia in 1992 after a peace agreement. Livan made
it to the United States in 2001 and Tith and their four children
followed in 2004.
Maggie Holtzberg, folk arts and heritage program manager for the
Massachusetts Cultural Council, thinks the kiln project is in keeping
with the mission of Lowell’s national park.
“Part of the Lowell National Historical Park’s mission is to tell the
human story of immigration,” she said. “For the park to host [the kiln]
and present public programs is a remarkable opportunity – not only to
connect with Lowell’s Cambodian community, but to help preserve and
revitalize an ancient Khmer cultural tradition that is hanging on by a
thread.”
The kiln project originated out of a 2010 US Department of Education
trip to Cambodia, where six educators from Middlesex Community College
and the Lowell public schools studied and learned about Cambodian
culture and history, hoping to make continuing relationships with
educators in Cambodia, and then infuse the knowledge into their
teaching. Returning home, Rack and other local cultural authorities
determined to build Livan his kiln.
Grants were sought and received. The small corner plot of land, not far from downtown, was provided by the historical park.
“We have lent the use of this space for creation of the kiln . . . to
utilize this in a way to enlighten residents and visitors with a
particular facet of one community that now calls Lowell home,” says
David Blackburn, chief of cultural resources and programs for the park.
“What’s so cool for us as well is, here are academic fine arts
programs, and suddenly by working together we’re providing students of
these programs an opportunity to experience a very ancient tradition.”
Livan and company built the kiln with two types of firebrick, one for
structure, one for insulation, with some steel frame elements. Local
architect Samnang Khoeun and his associates at 42 Architecture designed
the roof that was built by local contractors. There were various
celebrations along the way, with guests including two Buddhist monks
from a local temple, dressed in bright orange robes, and three more
plainly dressed representatives of the Lowell Fire Department. All were
apparently satisfied with the construction.
Grant money also brought Livan’s childhood friend and fellow
ceramicist Kang Proeung over from Cambodia for a number of weeks up
until the kiln opening. They say they are two of only three or four
living masters of their craft, and at least one of the others is no
longer practicing.
Last month, they fired up the loaded kiln early in the morning on
that Saturday and kept feeding the firebox with cordwood until late that
night before closing it up. On Tuesday, Livan pulled small, ceramic
“pyrometric” cones from various corners inside the kiln. Some were
slightly lopsided at the top, others melted into lumps. Each indicates
how hot that part of the kiln was, the hottest topping out around 2,300
degrees Fahrenheit.
“Every kiln has some spots with very high heat and spots that are a little bit low,” Livan says.
In September, Livan and his colleagues fired about 100 pieces of pottery in the kiln. Some have already been sold.
The kiln will be fired up again later in the fall.
Livan fired several pieces in the wood kiln from community college
students in September. That will continue under his direction.
Rack sees a clear benefit to the school.
“It enriches curriculum at Middlesex, so that our students could
engage in creative work that is culturally rich and places them in
complex and culturally diverse interactions . . . making connections
across the city,” Rack said.
Try BostonGlobe.com today and get two weeks FREE.Joel Brown can be reached at jbnbpt@gmail.com.
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