Bat,bat, bat, or batte
The first time I heard someone in the studio say, “You’ll need a bat,” I was confused, I glanced around, half-expecting a flying mammal to be involved—or maybe some kind of wooden club. Instead, there were a few round wooden and plastic discs stacked neatly stacked on a cart (Batmobile). Ah. That kind of bat.
Like a lot of pottery lingo, the term had slipped into my vocabulary without question. You learn fast when you're covered in slip and someone’s hollering over the hum of wheels and the ping of glaze tongs. “Pass the rib,” “cut it off with wire,” “use a bat.” You get used to these phrases before you ever stop to wonder where they came from.
But one afternoon, after cleaning up the studio and watching a wide-bottomed bowl dry quietly on its bat, I got curious. Why bat? It didn’t look like a bat, sound like a bat, or do anything that reminded me of one. So I started digging.
Turns out, the word “bat” didn’t originate in a pottery studio at all. It reaches back to Middle English, where the word batte meant a flat stick or board—often something used to beat or strike in trades like weaving or tanning. The deeper you go, the more layered it becomes. There’s a Latin root—battuere—meaning “to beat” or “to strike.” The Old French brought in batte, meaning a flat paddle or board. Over time, the word traveled across trades and tongues, eventually landing in English workshops where anything flat, paddle-like, or hand-held might be called a “bat.”
In pottery, the leap makes sense. Imagine a medieval potter using a flat board to lift a newly thrown form off the wheel without distorting it. Maybe it was borrowed from a different craft entirely. Maybe it was improvised. Whatever the case, the name stuck, and over the centuries, “bat” became the standard term for the removable disc we use today.
Modern bats are much more refined than those early versions—usually made of wood, plaster, or plastic, and designed to fit snugly onto wheel heads. But they still do the same job: giving us a stable, movable surface to throw on. If you’re making anything wide, delicate, or bottom-heavy, using a bat means you don’t have to touch the pot to move it. It’s a simple thing, but incredibly useful.
There’s something satisfying about knowing that this round disc at the center of so much of my work carries with it a piece of linguistic and functional history. A word shaped by hands, passed through workshops, adapted by generations of makers. The clay may change. The wheels may be electric now. But the bat—that flat, trusty tool—remains.
References & Further Reading
Oxford English Dictionary, entry for “bat (n.1)” – https://www.oed.com
Documents the evolution of “bat” from Latin battuere to Middle English batte as a flat tool or club.Online Etymology Dictionary – https://www.etymonline.com/word/bat
Traces the origin of “bat” in English usage and its various meanings in different trades.Rhodes, Daniel. Clay and Glazes for the Potter. Krause Publications, 2000.
Contains descriptions of tools used in wheel-throwing, including bats.Nelson, Glenn C. Ceramics: A Potter's Handbook. Harcourt, 1984.
Offers historical context and practical information on studio pottery tools.Cooper, Emmanuel. Ten Thousand Years of Pottery. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2010.
Provides a broader historical sweep, including early studio practices.The Pottery Studio Glossary – https://www.potterystudio.com
A helpful online reference with historical notes on the term bat and other studio tools.