INEVITABILITY

Is it inevitability or fate that you are firing a small commissioned order and your kiln gives off this loud, FITZ-FITZ and then it is kaput? Did I mention the glazes respond oh so poorly to being re-fired, so 99.999% sure the load is wasted. Time, money and energy down the proverbial drain, I spent the afternoon considering my options. Do I move up to a larger kiln and incur the wrath and expense of an electrician, buy more or less the same model I have minus the Dawson kiln sitter or do I go into guerilla warfare mode and replace the elements, wiring, tube assembly and switch? Did I mention how handy-dandy I am not? To be fair, over the years I have replaced elements and switches but never the entire metal wrap assembly for the lid and hinge which has me feeling a bit out of my depth but what is the alternative to all the expense, swearing and sweating soon to ensue. Once cooled down, I can access the extent of the surprise attack on my sanity and having all the information is better than flipping out and just buying a whole new set-up.

On a lighter note, here is a simple meandering fluted teabowl glazed over in my Ao+ glaze on a porcelain body. This sort of has that roller-coaster feeling in terms of movement and definitely reminds me of the old zoetrope and zoopraxiscope of the 19^th century. I have used this technique under several glazes and it seems best suited for transparent and translucent glazes though temmoku and ash may be a good fit, maybe next cycle.

NONSENSE

"Tanuki sits in the dark,

Glowing moon hangs in the mist,

Watching over silent clay"

Shigaraki kogo by Furutani Michio, photo and nonsense by the lone potter at Albedo 3 Studio with a bit too much time on his hands.

SWAYING

In point of fact this Oribe take-gata hanaire by Kato Katsumasa is a vessel of naturalistic conviction, a bamboo-form flower vase that stands ever so slightly swaying as a sentinel of the Mino tradition within the modern age. In the hands of Katsumasa, a potter dedicated to the Mino tradition of Gifu Prefecture, the clay is not merely formed but interrogated to bring out vase from a simple handful of material. By employing a sensitive, sculptural hand, the clay evokes the structural presence of bamboo where the casually segmented nodes define the take-gata (bamboo shape) form.     

The defining characteristic that completes this pot is the rich, deep Ao-Oribe (Green Oribe) glaze, where the alchemy of surface and spirit of the form combine and add to an aesthetic that dates back to the Momoyama period (1573–1615).  Katsumasa’s decisive use of glaze is certainly unapologetically bold speaking to years of experience and many pots made. By determining the exact thickness, he has achieved a deep, vitrified emerald that pools in the recesses of the "nodes," creating a high-contrast interplay of light and shadow. Unlike the more restrained, translucent Oribe glazes, the glaze is thick and textured, often allowed to break over the sharp edges of the form to reveal the toasted, iron-rich stoneware body beneath. This interaction between the vibrant glaze and the textured and animated clay creates an organic appearance and movements for which Oribe is highly celebrated.       

Kato Katsumasa makes pottery within a legacy of over four centuries old Oribe tradition not as a static piece merely for visual admiration, but as a living language meant for use.  Within this modern Oribe landscape, this take-gata hanaire presents itself as a bridge between the avant-garde "deformations" embraced by the early tea masters like Furuta Oribe, and the careful consideration of contemporary craft. It eschews the delicate, painted motifs of painted Oribe in favor of raw, sculptural power as it is a work that commands its space, reflecting a philosophy where the potter’s labor is value and visible in intentional marks and in every copper-green pool. It is more than likely that Kato Katsumasa does not seek to simply imitate the past; he strives to harness its intensity, ensuring that the Oribe legacy remains as sharp and vital as fresh cut of bamboo.  

WBW 4-29-26

Recently, I have been going through some pots that I have intentionally keep since our big move to central NY and for some reason or another, I had kept this temmoku and tetsu-yu, iron glazed covered water jar. I remember that I made a group of them but this was the one that I held onto though I am not sure exactly why though I do like the way the iron cascades down the fullness of the pot implying just the right amount of volume. So, I decided to dust it off and give it a proper Hollywood back-drop session and ended up with a few options of which I thought this worked the best even if it does have some hints of reflection from windows and other sources. This particular pot was thrown in stoneware and then had small rondel style decoration impressed around the surface before being glazed in my no iron temmoku and my tetsu-yu glaze. The streaked surface and shimmering iron crystals are just right for a Way Back Wednesday and before anyone asks, yes this was put up on my blog, a very long while back.  

"A pot has to have a certain kind of 'internal pressure' if it is going to have any life at all. It must look as if it were being blown out from the inside."  Michael Cardew

WONDERFUL VARIETY*

I think in many respects this is about as straight forward Echizen gets under the guidance of Nishiura Takeshi. The form is simple yet strong and the surface is all natural, the results of Echizen style wood firing without the benefit of any additional glaze being added beforehand. I mention this because Nishiura is well known for his seeded surfaces including his Hekisha-yu, blue sand technique. On this pot, Nishiura relied on the wood firing process alone to bring the piece to life where ash built up in waves and melted, cascading down the tsubo, articulating movement over the bones of the pot. The face of the pot is painted in a wet, streaked surface aided by temperature and gravity while the rear shows the velocity of the kiln, wrapping it in a permanent embrace concluded in a rich hi-iro fire color. The mouth, lip stands out alone having developed a layer of crusty ash, a perfect texture to please the eye and touch and act as a counterpoint to all of the wetness of the pot. The base, perhaps the bottom third is completed in rivulets of running ash, many terminating in fat drips of ash further adding to the varietas admirabilis* of the pot. Undoubtedly, it will sound repetitive but each encounter with Nishiura’s Echizen is quite a welcome experience where the forms, surface variety and echoes of the firing process are so well integrated and articulated, leaving one eager for the next pot to show up and add to the ongoing narrative of his work.

M3 IV

Among the confines of my own personal museum, museum mentis meae (M3), many of the pieces contained within are those stalwart pots I would term “classics”, many from the post-war years and running up to the early days of the Heisei era. Within this treasured group of potters there are some that stand out for the artistry, creativity and technical abilities despite not reaching the vaulted levels of Itaya Hazan or Kawai Kanjiro. Surrounded by the giants and pioneers of traditional and technical stewardship I am always pointed to the work of Shinkai Kanzan (1912-2011), grandson of Seifu Yohei IV and student of the multi-talented Kiyomizu Robei V, his (Kanzan’s) pottery is well represented in museums throughout Japan. Like many of the post-war potters and especially many of the Kyoto artists, Kanzan’s mastery of form and glazes made his work immediately stand out among other potters of the area and times where he focused quite heavily on naturalistic designs and decoration where he brought to life birds, fish and others to life in his own unique style many of them created by using molds for sprigged on elements to narrate and animate his surfaces. Though, like with many of these M3 level potters, I show a pronounced bias, what continues to speak to me regarding his work is the interconnectivity of his diverse body of work where as you encounter one, it is easy to exclaim, “that is certainly another Shinkai Kanzan”.     

Illustrated or rather depicted in my mind’s museum is this classic, colorful and playful Nishiki-sarasa mizusashi by Shinkai Kanzan. This mizusashi was chosen because of this clever and complex surface which was an oft repeated technique used to both decorate and articulate his mostly simple forms. Using some version of a resist, which I have always assumed was cut paper, a profound pattern is created which once glazed and fired adds layers of depth and movement to the pottery in question. Using a buff stoneware clay, typical of many Kyoto potters, a thick white slip is applied onto the surface and then the paper resist is removed exposing the fullness of the pattern only to be glazed, in this case using a clear glaze where carefully and selectively applied oxide washes are employed and during the firing where thickness of surface and temperature add a degree of serendipity to experience to run and bring the pot to the fullness of its expression.         

I suspect there will be opinions out there that consider this a rather ‘dated” piece and ironically, I agree; modern in its day, it blends the Kyoto aesthetic with Art Nouveau and T’ang elements and characteristics which were percolating around during the 1970s making this a classic and even defining pot of the period. This blend, even dated, reminds me of Basho’s poem where even while in Kyoto, he longs for Kyoto, this is the state this pot brings me to as the encounter was a decade or so ago. I think that if I was being totally honest, when I think of Kyoto potters or Shinkai Kanzan specifically, this multi-colored and patterned mizusashi always spring to mind and with just a tiny amount of help from AI, I am able to see it almost exactly how I envision this pot in my mind. Isn’t technology great?   

(*This picture contains an actual image of a pot or pots in an AI generated background or scenario)

WBW NEW BEGINNING

By way of WBW, Way Back Wednesday and some new beginnings; illustrated is a pair of larger “lip bowls” glazed in my temmoku and iron yellow glaze. This is what happens when you push and test so much you can end up at someplace that you either don’t recognize of have changed something so much it is clearly not that same as when it all started. After this firing, realizing this was probably the end of one long cycle of testing and seeing how long it was before a surface might fail, I started testing the overglaze in earnest to the eventual outcome which I refer to as my saffron glaze. To be honest, it didn’t entail nearly as much testing as the iron yellow glaze did in the first place but after all I did have a fully functioning, melting and no longer crawling glaze from which to start. I wonder now if I started at the beginning or just ended at the end a bit earlier than usual?     

"And the end of all our exploring, Will be to arrive where we started, And know the place for the first time."  T.S. Elliot

TENSION

My first encounter with the ceramics of Gerd Knapper occurred rather by chance in what I seem to remember as 1989. While at the home of Tuttle Books in Vermont, I happened across a Kodansha book entitled, GERD KNAPPER; Clay Works and was quite intrigued by the seamless synthesis of German discipline and a distinctly Japanese aesthetic somewhat dependent of the elemental spirit of the Japanese nobori-gama. This ash-glazed koro (incense burner) is the work of Gerd Knapper, a figure whose presence in the landscape of yakimono was as unexpected as it was profound and a unique case of where East truly meets West or vice versa.            

The very form and surface of this koro is defined by well-conceived undulating surface of curvilinear fluting that converges, narrowing, constricting toward the base and the rim, creating a dynamic sense of tension, compression and expansion both real and perceived. These carved grooves serve a dual purpose: they provide a structural, neo-Gothic (?) architecture for the eye to follow and act as channels for the wood ash to pool and break during the intensity of the firing.            

The glaze is an applied ash to add life to the pot without hiding away the carved details, while the piece was gently fired in some sheltered spot in the wood kiln which was likely immersed in long hours of a pine-fueled fire. The applied ash works well across the surface, creating highlights and an almost sesame seed style surface which adds some depth and movement to the already animated form. The contrast between the toasted, iron-rich clay body and the ash, finalized by the flames finally steps in to complete the work the potter initiated when there was nothing but a ball of clay at the wheel.

The lid is particularly noteworthy for its openwork (sukashi) design. The four-petaled floral motif is not merely decorative; it is a functional aperture through which the incense smoke would traditionally rise, trailing like mountain mist. The carving here is confident, mirroring the deep fluting of the body and ensuring the vessel maintains a cohesive visual weight from base to knob and as was intended, the lid works together with the carved form, as both compliment and the completed element. Though small, from its design to its creation, Gerd Knapper completed this in his mind’s eye before he even wedged the clay.

IN MOTION?

I have been going through old files and decided to put up this slideshow video of a Shigaraki tsubo by Ogawa Seiho. This, in motion, well, sort of in motion shows off some details of this traditional Shigaraki tsubo and fills in some of the blanks that are certainly missed on a single static image. Hope this helps a bit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0jiKwiXto_U

TRI-COLOR

In no small measure, I have long admired the general concept and visual of sancai/sansai glazed pottery and every now and again, I run tests and try my own, simple take on the technique. This Kushime Sansai Cap Jar is a study of the archetype where; form and the rhythmic movement of the slip help animate the overall piece. While the CD player helps in the motivation with Kitaro in the background of the studio, once thrown and tooled, the surface begins to show signs of awakening with the kushime, a direct and often used vocabulary. I would like to think these ridges are more than just decorative; they are part of the structure aiding in redirecting the glaze as it matures in the heat of the kiln creating this runny surface.         

If the porcelain clay is the canvas, this attempt at sansai (three-color) is reimagined, simplistically using prior glazes and oxide washes where the combination of amber, copper and droozy, washed out brown run diagonally following the predetermined furrows of the slip. At peak temperature, the base glaze thins over the high ridges of the combed texture, revealing the pale body beneath, while the washes play their part and pooling into cooperative streams within the valleys. The texture is a marriage of sharp definition and fluid softness; a topography of the seen and the felt which has become smooth from the assistance of the firing. As for the simple form, the cap, or lid, continues the movement drawing the eye upward to a central point, which is calm and still in contrast to the motion of the slipped areas.         

I would like to think (?) there is some degree of organized spontaneity in this work, though I know just what I will do. Working with slip gives you one chance and either you get it right or you don’t, maybe after 10,000 more pieces, I will get the slipwork and the glazing to work in a more “harmonious outcome*” but until then, this is just the way it is.   

(* reference to the movie, CROSSFIRE TRAIL 2001)