THE GOOD (M3)

Over the years I must say I have seen and handled a lot of pieces by Furutani Michio including on several trip to Japan and his studio. Admittedly, I suspect there are a number of people who have handled more but I have encountered enough to make a fair assessment of his better work. Given my experience with his pottery specifically, I often wonder, of all these really good and great pieces, what would or does make for a museum piece? In all this time, I have come up with a personal criterion that revolves around several key areas; how is the form articulated, what personal attributes by way of design elements and marks does he add to the pot, how does the piece build on the tradition of Shigaraki or Iga and potentially the rendering of some well-known utsushimono? Added to these factors, I find myself judging the surface and firing as a means to further communicate an ideal as well as present a landscape that narrates both the historical and modern context of the work. Last but not least, trying as best to compare apples to apples, where does it fit within other of the potter’s works for form and surface as well as within the overall contemporary examples of the tradition? Seems easy enough, well to be honest though this is subject to the greater degree, striving for objectivity makes this a less than straightforward proposition.         

As for one of the pots by Furutani Michio that make my museum mentis meae*, this classical Ko-Iga mizusashi is well up at the top of the list. Despite the fact that I have seen a number of his pots that could easily be in any museum, this Furutani Michio mizusashi stands out for a wide array of reasons chief among them is the fullness of its character where posture, animation and its stoic presence convey a hint of a “dark side” to this essential vessel. In his pursuit of this form, Furutani Michio has sought out an innate sense of antiquity and modernity, perfectly balanced where there is nothing superfluous, allowing the form and sparse marks and physical elements do all the talking/ communicating. The final keystone to this level of pot is the exceptional firing where the balance of just the right amount of ash works well to accentuate but not obscure any post throwing work allowing for the marks to further articulate the pot and give voice to the individual nature of this potter’s expression. All of these considerations and decisions along the way are based on study and years of experience which is why I consider this pot to be among the absolute top level of his work appears simple and effortless but a lifetime of making goes into each and every pot.  

One last observation regarding utsushimono, roughly translated as copies (of historic archetypes), like his contemporaries, Furutani Michio studied the classics and learned about forms and construction of coiling and coil & throwing based on these older pieces along with the historical perspective and its modern relevance. There are great challenges involved when making modern interpretations of the archetypes, capturing the essence of the originals is a prerequisite and no easy task. Careful observations and considerations go into these pots but it is also quite essential that the uniqueness, the idiosyncrasies of the modern potter be evident in each pot, one’s own voice within the spectrum of the tradition moving a pot from a mere copy and pushing “the good” to being so much more.

”It is an unscrupulous intellect that does not pay to antiquity its due reverence.”  (Desiderius) Erasmus

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

TIME-TESTED

This Tamba haiyu (ash-glazed) guinomi by Nishibata Tadashi is a visceral landscape compressed into the palm of the hand. Though not exactly the mini-chawan that I gravitate toward, this roughly hexagonal piece is a rugged, mountainous form, somewhat heavy in appearance with hints of wood fired effects especially in the form of rich hi-iro on the base. There is a calming and quiet dignity baked into this vessel with six opposing panels forms a connected and individual visages all considered with a confident hand that allows the surface to speak its own unique language.   

The exterior is a bit like a play, a drama of shifting temperaments, movement and elemental reactions to the heat of the kiln which is the time-tested crucible of all pottery. On one face, a thick, cream-colored ash glaze cascades down the sides like melting late season snow, pooling into a rich, opaque ivory. This "running" glaze comes face to face with the textured base, an iron-rich underworld of deep iron red and burnt sienna, a painter’s dream. The transition is not exactly smooth forming a chaotic boundary where the running ash glaze bites into the clay, creating a semi-volatile texture that feels ancient, almost volcanic.   

What is potentially the "front" of the guinomi features a startling contrast to the rear, an angled, dark opening of clay color appears where the glaze has been dipped to create a casual void revealing clay texture and iron spots most likely created by using the finger-tips as a brush, spots appear, punctuating the space as primitive a decoration as man can make.  The interior of the cup is where the alchemy reaches its zenith, a maelstrom created by chance and design. A pool of the swirling, running vitrified ash has settled in the well, cooling and creating a nebula of ash and perpetual motion.   

Turning the piece over, the simple kodai (foot) reveals the true nature of the Tamba clay. It has become a toasty, orange-red earth, where the hi-iro is further interrupted by contrasting marks where the piece was fired on wads. The playful visual and tactile experience of this guinomi is one of constant discovery, an ever-shifting landscape which only serves as a reminder that in the hands of a master like Nishibata, the kiln is not just a tool, but an elemental partner in the work.

 

WHO'S WHO

Majolica; earthenware covered in an opaque tin glaze and decorated on the glaze before firing

especially: an Italian ware of this kind (Merriam & Webster definition)

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I realize this isn’t the best photo but wanted to share this from the “early days”, maybe it was 1992 or 1993. For some reason, I had become a bit obsessed with this really chaotically decorated tin glazed majolica with oxide pigments which also lead me down the road of doing reduction lusters as well. This assemblage of decorations was called, Who’s Who and was illustrative of the people and places encountered on my bus and train ride into Cleveland proper seven days a week. There was never a dull moment and I think this decoration makes that abundantly clear. Thrown out of terra cotta, the pieces were glazed over in a slightly off-white majolica glaze and then each one was painted in series or individually depending on the piece. At the time, most every form I was working with including the leaning tower of Piza jars (not shown), were employed but here you have covered jars, teabowls, cups and saucers and small, one-person teapots that I was having fun making. I am not sure if it is clear or not but the cups and teapots all have pedestal feet, something I had started doing on porcelain pieces a short while earlier and I liked the feel, look and sometimes, the challenge. At any rate, I do remember this group of two dozen pieces coming out of one kiln load and though there is some level of cringe now, being in clay for a short while at the time, I was slightly pleased with these way back when. (I should note that I have Alan Caiger Smith, Dick and Patty Schneider and Linda Arbuckle  to thank for pushing me down this particular rabbit hole.)

GAKU HAGI

Illustrated is a pair of low, wide Hagi kohiki kumadashi-jawan by Kuroda Gaku. Kuroda started off pottery making in Kyoto before moving to Hagi where he set up his Nanchi-Kobo-gama, he is best known for and specialized in vividly textured pottery, like this kohiki which he refers to as Oni-Hagi. Known as isso-kumidashi-jawan, these pieces are a study in complex texture and variations in color including blushed areas and gohonde spotting making them a perfect set for use of simple contemplation. This set is a perfect example of one of his preferred forms that feel perfect in between the fingers make them much more than something “pretty” to look at where function is job one. Kuroda’s Oni-Hagi is the epitome of rustic, weathered from times long past despite being new out of the box, where timelessness is “baked” into his work, one pot at a time. 

WIZARDRY

The description of this piece is simple enough, Shinsha mizusashi but as you look closely at the complex surface you see subtle hints of Jun ware from the Song and Yuan dynasties. Like the simple description, this simple form is full of volume, looking like it is about to burst under the tension of the form and animated surface which has several layers of depth with movement and crystals popping up through the uppermost layers, though clearly Chinese inspired, you can see and imagine the skill of a modern Japanese potter behind this work.       

This shinsha mizusashi was made by Nakajima Hitoshi, the older brother of Living national Treasure Nakajima Hiroshi and despite his untimely and early death, his skill level, sense of form and surface and his remarkable glaze wizardry shine in most encounters with his work. Nakajima Hitoshi was precise in his throwing and glazing and his forms are models of perfection where most pots show no defects of line or scale, where lids fit perfectly and feet are exactingly well cut and attended to. Despite my description and the potter’s precision, his pots are not mechanical replicas of the antecedents, his forms show a strength and determination of his particular voice and can normally be picked out of the crowd if you will. 

As a point to a previous blog post, Nakajima Hitoshi is another one of those “hidden gems”, a potter lesser-known outside of Japan but whose work is of such a high standard in terms of every aspect yet are blanketed in a distinctly Japanese idiom. This potter and his work deserve a rigorous visual and aesthetic inquiry as in my humble opinion, he most likely would have been Ningen Kokuho had fate not had a hand in other considerations.

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.