ONE AND DONE?

Illustrated is a stoneware handbuilt bottle with thick impasto slip and my Oribe glaze surface. Like with other one and done pots, this came about by using up the cut away slab pieces from slabs used for hump molded tray forms. What I was left over with were these unique shapes which immediately made me think of this form. Once assembled I took a few minutes and threw a neck/ mouth to complete the form, dried it out a bit and attached it to the slab body hoping they were close enough in consistency. I “sacked” it (in a plastic bag) for a day and then applied the thick impasto slip and once out of the bisque, no losses, no cracks and the neck was still firmly attached. A quick bath in three different glazes and though it ran a small amount, overall not too bad for a one and done made out of scrap slabs of very specific shapes. I am not thinking this is something I am going to chase to the ends of the earth but it was a neat way to spend a half and hour and a couple less pounds of clay that would have had to have been reconstituted, in other words, a win-win.

WHAT'S IN A NAME?

Over the years I have seen and handled quite a few pots by Tsukigata Nahiko. In that time I have seen a wide array of descriptive terms used when signing the box where sometimes a pot is just, “Oni-Shino” and other times it is “Kujaku Oni-Shino” or any number of other descriptions. To this day, I am never quite sure where Tsukigata draws the line, well a fine line in how exactly he decides to describe a piece, telling you exactly what you are looking at, but what’s in a name after all?  

The pot that got me thinking about this again is this particular Shino, wood fired chawan, the box is clearly marked Ko-Shino while accompanying the pot is a personal letter by the potter in which he refers to the piece as Oni-Shino, together with this letter is also a placard (with corresponding number) from his exhibition where it is clearly written; Oni-Shino Chawan along with the original price. Pardon me if I am a bit confused but I think I would have originally gone with the box inscription first and foremost but the two “goes-withs” do leave me wondering, which is it and is the box or the letter the best way to describe the bowl? I think I will stick with the hako-gaki and assume when it was boxed, Ko-Shino was exactly what it was, end of story.

HERE & NOW

I have to admit; this particular pot really tests my memory. If memory serves me correctly, this pot was fired while I was at the studio of Kohyama Yasuhisa back in 1993 and the bio and box signature at least add some credence to that thought. Back in 1993, the use of 35mm slide and regular film did not afford one the option to takes hundreds and hundreds of photos so I was a bit careful about what I photographed and sketched but pots of this form and size tend to stand out in my memory and searching out old photos and images has proved fruitless to date.  

At any rate, here is a classic Shigaraki (haikaburi) mentori henko by Kohyama Yasuhisa circa 1993, the form is rather strong and simple yet it cuts a rather imposing figure sitting on a shelf or desktop. The form is ever so slightly articulated by the impressions, the marks created by the wire cutting process that has been accentuated during the firing. There are distinct “zones” of ash fall with the shoulder and mouth receiving the heaviest amount of buildup down to the base which shows evidence of sitting in a small amount of charcoal during the firing. Also as you can see in the photo, the mouth of the vase is large and well supported by the broad nature of the overall base, body of the piece. In reality, it doesn’t really matter when and where but rather that I had the chance to see and study the piece in the here and now.

WBW 1/21/2026

I kind of thought this Odyssey (Homer) inspired large ishime-ji wall bowl would be a perfect “way back Wednesday” post. I can’t remember exactly when this was made but likely around 2000 or so. The bowl is stoneware, maybe 20” across with incised decoration with inlaid white against the black-grey engobe. I started making these Homer influenced pieces back in the mid-90s after deciding to re-read THE ODYSSEY (and THE ILIAD) and they were great fun to make if not a bit tricky to inlay the white against the background, also a play on ancient Greek pottery. I am often reminded of the George Santayana's quote; "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it”, maybe revisiting and remembering old work isn’t such a bad thing where repeating it brings new perspectives.

EARLY

Illustrated is a rather stoic, formal and early Shino vase by Tamaoki Yasuo. What’s that you ask, just how early is this kinuta hanaire? With fortune smiling, this boxed vase came with a small catalogue, all in B&W from an early exhibition at Kuroda Toen dated Showa 47 (1972) and while I am sure there are earlier pieces, this is the earliest, definitively dated piece that I have encountered. Like much of Tamaoki’s early work, this pot is sturdy, and as I mentioned very formal in presentation, the proportions are strong and overall relies on the deliberate nature of the glazing to add movement to the piece. There is a simple, Momoyama influenced landscape painted across the surface where areas of one layer of Shino moves over the rich red surface, creating brushstrokes of liquid movement. This pot is as good an example of Tamaoki’s work for the period and foreshadows what is to come where formality gives way to his more casual and liberated pieces, animated by form and surface learned over decades of a dedication to clay, glaze and firing where, “my work, which is in a state of searching and searching, will go on*”.

 (* Tamaoki Yasuo, 1992)

葛屋香合

I found this crunchy, barnacle encrusted little fellow hiding in plain sight, mixed among toy cars, old transistor radios and other bric-a-brac in the offerings of a general, second-hand dealer on the web. While that was interesting enough in the discovery, the fact of who, what, where and when was even more intriguing to me, obviously a Japanese Shigaraki kogo, made sometime prior to 1992 and by Kohyama Yasuhisa. For anyone who knows Kohyama’s work, the firing, well the surface is something of an anomaly considering his preference for quiet, restrained surface development but this little gem must have been somewhere where the fullest weight and ferocity of the firing came to bare as if laser focused on this diminutive and limited lump of clay formed into a traditional Japanese house complete with thatched roof (kuzuya-kogo, 葛屋香合).     

I should mention, sometimes when a piece like this comes along, I can’t help but be pleased as punch. First off, I love diminutive pieces, secondly, I couldn’t ask for a more intense surface and third it is by a potter who's work I truly admire and acquiring a piece just outside of the normal body of work rarely hurts my feelings. I am glad I made that one more click on the mouse to encounter this Kohyama Yasuhisa kogo, small or not, it has a large presence and an even longer impact with a surface that at least in my experience is not often encountered.

LESSONS IN PHOTOGRAPHY

I realize the title of this post is more than a bit misleading considering it should be more about this is what not to learn when taking photographs but admittedly, this (faux) gosu surface is a bear to get right. After waiting a week for some actual sunlight to help show the surface of this teabowl, I decided to wing it with my single 200watt tungsten bulb and hope for the best. To fill in some of the gaps, the bowl was made of porcelain and then had a thin white slip coarsely brushed over the main part of the bowl before having black slip trailed and finger-printed over the piece ala khaotique style. The glaze is my Ao+ which was developed to in many respects a faux gosu after the Kawai-mon staple. 

This particular teabowl ended up a bit hotter in temperature than usual which has created a nice effect where it has pulled down the intensity of the color around the mouth and created wonderful, rich drips around the base of the bowl which you can just see in this photo. As for the lessons in photography, perhaps I’ll get this figured out some day with multiple lights, reflecting umbrellas and whatever equipment I would need but for now the hold the floodlight and point and shot method will just have to suffice, I need to get a handle on this pottery thing before I move on to another pursuit.

WHEAT/ CHAFF

There is something that is just pure magic where Hirosaki Hiroya has based much of his work on Sung Dynasty hakuji, pure white porcelain where the simple, abstracted repoussé style floral design just sings across the surface. This particular vase has a few additional features that add to the overall presence of the vase form from the pieced foot ring to the double stepped mouth, both adding to the pot rather than distracting from its purity. Though much of Hirosaki’s work is quite simple in concept and execution, the skillful use of a strong, resonant form and design that is distilled to the least amount of detail is honestly about as complex as it gets. How does a potter create a pot that is aware of its every detail while having removed all the superfluous elements while maintaining a strong and long-term conversation with the viewer? I wish I could answer that question but this ability is what separates the wheat from the chaff, so to speak and it is obvious that Hirosaki Hiroya knew exactly how to solve that conundrum.

MAGIC

Classic Nanban-oke style mizusashi with a twist, the pot surface is a yohen style glaze that shimmers and adds depth and volume to the form. Perhaps the real treat is when you remove the lacquer lid and peer into the reflective and mesmerizing interior, the water just adding to the atmosphere and mystery of the contents. This mizusashi was made by Fukumori Aya, wife of the yuteki and yohen specialist Fukumoro Morihiko, using a glaze he created and made use of to great effect over the years. Though I have seen several yuteki and yohen pieces by Fukumoro Aya, I think it is safe to say she is far better known for her painted, almost Kyoto style ceramics though having seen this mizusashi and a yuteki style chaire, I think it is quite safe to say, where ever she turns her attention, magic is likely to happen.

“EVER TRIED”

I won’t say this is a particularly exciting picture but it is what I am currently up to. Considering the time of year, the studio is a bit chilly and in the mid-50s and there aren’t a lot of orders so this tends to be the time I spend working on tests. First and foremost, I glazed up a handful of pots that needed to be glazed and set those aside and then began making up a group of 25 tests, some new and a few retests of older glazes with new materials. Of these tests, all will be put on stoneware, porcelain and small batch sandy clay pods to see what I get, in turn most of these will be tested with the group of existing glazes I use as well as trying out the new glazes in various combos, this process yields the greatest variety if not successes, that is statistically (?) possible.    

As cliché as this may sound, this has been my pathway to discovery; “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail better.” Samuel Beckett