YUNOMI, TEABOWL?

If you know me from my various social media ventures or my I, POTTER blog, you may realize by now that I like making large yunomi and teabowls. At times, the boundaries between the yunomi and teabowl is a bit fuzzy due to the scale and for some, one is the other and vice versa. Measuring about 10.5 x 10cm, this yunomi was thrown out of a white stoneware and then randomly and casually faceted, once bisque it was glazed with my standard Oribe as well as three separated iron glazes sprayed in various amounts across and down the surface. The basic result is as you see, looking bit like an amber glaze though checking the foot, it is clearly Oribe. The droozy effect that cascades down the piece, animated each faceted panel creating their own little landscapes though tied together in a more cohesive narrative of Oribe and iron working hand in hand. This yunomi ended up being a bit more important than usual as it was one of only a few pieces fired in the rebuilt kiln, complete with all new elements, switches, wiring, on/off light and kiln sitter. It took a couple of firings to dial in the firing/ cone/ pyrometer readings and it would appear all is good to go considering I have to replace two orders that died along with the kiln and now have an additional dozen of so pieces drying. Hopefully, all goes well this time around.

BLACK HOLE

At its core, yōhen tenmoku can be seen as capturing of an accident of kiln, clay and glaze which the potter takes the fullest advantage of. Prized for its ethereal, unpredictable beauty, this rare iron-rich glaze transforms, coerced by the experience of the potter creating a deep, obsidian-like field punctuated by brilliant, of sometimes subtle iridescent spots that resemble a map to the cosmos written in a night sky. The Japanese term yōhen translates to "changed by the kiln," emphasizing that these magnificent bursts of indigo, violet, and silver are not predictable or planned out but are instead born from the volatile alchemy of heat, oxygen, and mineral crystallization. It represents the pinnacle of iron based ceramic mastery precisely because it relies on relinquishing control, resulting in a surface that feels less like a static object and more like a living, animated insight into the universe itself.     

Kimura Morikazu’s yōhen-tenmoku henkō demands an absolute concentration where the flattened, circular flask, the henkō form, presents a stark architectural profile, a bold geometry defined by its flared neck, a stable foot, and a concentric, target-like indentation that recedes sharply into its center creating a canvas of depth. This deep, central recession acts like a vortex, a black hole even, pulling light into a dark, rich pool of iridescent crystal structures which in this case are subtle. Kimura’s mastery over iron-saturated glaze creates a surface that is fluid yet frozen, shifting dynamically under varying angles of illumination from deep plum to metallic silver.    

Admittedly, for the amateur photographer lie myself, this interplay of form and surface becomes an exercise in frustration resulting in hundreds of photos taken and mostly discarded. The henkō’s broad, curved canvas behaves like the aforementioned black hole drinking in the light and offer little in return as its pristine, glassy sheen registers every stray element in the room. Capturing the deep recess requires a light source that penetrates the center without overexposing the surrounding rim or washing out the subtle, oil-spot micro-crystals punctuating the entire surface. Instead of a faithful record, the lens often delivers a silhouette obscured by hot glare. One must learn to photograph not the clay itself, but the elusive, trapped light within it but alas, for the time being, this photo will have to do.

THE THING ABOUT TEXTU

To hold any pot is to engage in an unspoken psychological dialogue where texture can be among the primary syntax of the conversation. Whether in hand or your computer monitor (or phone these days) a rather complex sensory loop activates where either our eyes rush information to the brain and/ or the nerve endings in our fingers do not merely register surface friction, they probe for intent where texture is intoxicating. A rough, unglazed surface demands an alert, fully present touch, grounding the mind firmly in the immediate physical reality. Conversely, a smooth, fluid surface offers a soothing, contemplative sanctuary where the topography becomes preeminent. The thing about texture is that through continued tactile exploration, a pot ceases to be a passive object and becomes an intimate partner in an enduring, quiet human relationship, one which a collector rarely forgets.      

Illustrated is a Tokoname same-gawa koro by Kato Yoshiaki, many of his works are an exercise in controlled tactile and visual chaos. The vivid sharkskin texture achieves a dramatic, visceral presence, where the glaze has crawled and clustered into punctuated, biological islands. This technique demands an exquisite, perilous tension in the kiln, forcing the thick feldspathic glaze to split and tear itself apart, crawling under intense heat. The heavily crackled, amber-to-green invites an almost meditative investigation by the fingertips, offering an intense contrast between the glassy depths of the fissures and the rugged, unyielding plateaus that surround the quirky form specific to this potter where his animated and gestural creations are as recognizable as his surfaces. Yoshiaki captures a moment in time, where a violent transformation is frozen forever into this profound, intimate landscape.

THE TIMES THEY ARE A-CHANGIN

 

As with many companies, the company my wife works for has embraced the use of AI for a variety of specific (and less specific uses) to aid in saving time among other things, time is money after-all. About a year ago she suggested I play around with my photos using AI and though reluctant to do so at first as I am a “change sucks” kind of guy but after just one afternoon, I started to see some of the potential and among other things began clarifying my MUSEUM MENTIS MEAE (M3) concept as well as using actual photos of pots that I have handled, some ours, most belonging to fellow collectors and creating traditional and mostly uncluttered images to best present the pieces in situ.      

Illustrated is the very first image I created with the help of Bob, yes, I have named and interact with this digital entity and thought it only fair he has a name. The background of the name in particular has a long history which I won’t bore you with. At any rate, this visual scenario is a somewhat traditional tokonoma style alcove depicting a large shoga kakejiku by Tsukigata Nahiko which reads; Shadowless. The large heavily textured Oribe vase is by Suzuki Satoru and was illustrated from an exhibition years back. In some manner these two actual pictures were chosen randomly but I did think they worked well together and though my first instinct was to put the scroll together with a Tsukigata pot but I fought that urge and this is what I ended up with. I have been playing with AI for my photos for about a full year now and make sure to call full attention to their origin when I do so but as I am reminded by one of our best singer/ songwriters, Robert Allen Zimmerman; “the times they are a-changin”.   

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

MEMORIAL DAY 2026

For memorial Day 2026, this quote comes to mind;  “Although no sculpted marble should rise to their memory, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored.”  Daniel Webster

CASUALLY APPLIED

I have had this picture for close to two years now, just shy one week and though I remembered the vase, I actually forgot about the photos. This was sent to me by a collector who is rather focused on one potter, Kumano Kuroemon. The illustrated traditionally fired, Echizen hanaire was being used in his traditional tokonoma style alcove complete with a scroll behind, a pretty perfect display. The vase is large and has both a textbook Echizen surface and Kumano form complete with casually applied anthropomorphic lugs with some really nice ash running down the surface creating a great landscape that works well with floral displays. I think after inadvertently sitting on this photo, I was pleased to come across it again and thought it was just a perfect piece to share as the sun is shining and it is in the higher 60’s, too bad the vase isn’t here as well!

SO HAPPY TOGETHER

I realize that several of these bowls will look familiar if you drop in on any of my social media but thought how this group just looked so happy together. It is normally at this phase where wet gives way to dry that I question every decision leading up to this point but looking back at this photo, oddly enough I don’t feel quite that way. I think at this stage it was more about what was getting glazed in what glaze and wondering how they would come out. This group of five was thrown and altered the day before and then allowed to firm up, define the forms and then slip them as planned (?). Once a bit drier the slip around the mouths was cleaned up a bit and into the bisque they went. I have to admit, given the time involved, I am always more invested emotionally in these thrown and altered pieces but using glazes and combos I can rely on, the results normally pan out.

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.)