TEMPERATURE

I posted a similar covered jar a short while back, one that sold almost as quickly as it came out of the kiln, still warm and carrying on its cooling symphony. To that end, I wanted to make at least another to have around a bit and opted to make this one a bit larger in stoneware instead of white stoneware and with three lids instead of just the one. I should also note that Judith Salomon reminded me that the multi-lid thing was something Val Cushing did quite often and is likely where I picked it up but had forgotten the origins. At any rate, this jar is now bisque and glazed and waiting on being fired all decked out in my Oribe with several washes of various iron over the lids and upper portion of the jar. Using an atomizer, I am always concerned about over spraying the surface and totally losing the paddled texture, time and temperature will tell.  

“It doesn’t matter what temperature a room is, it is always room temperature.”  Steven Wright

SIMPLE PLEASURES

I am sure everyone has had someone tell them, sometimes you just need to relish life’s simple pleasures. Maybe for some people, when and where they first heard that is likely forgotten in the mists of time but I can honestly say, I remember the very first time. When I was seven years old, I was rather ill and as such missed almost an entire school year. Luckily, there were several individuals who saw fit to help me keep up on my school work, lessons and tests so I did not fall behind. One of these caring individuals was Sister Dominica from Saint Peter’s School in Plattsburgh, NY. She would make the walk, in her late 70’s from the “nunnery” to our house, three times a week bringing lessons, reading material and whatever else I needed to keep up. She was like my own personal miracle, always kind, a bit stern at times and easy to get a grin from. I remember one day being a bit overwhelmed after a visit to the hospital and she commented about a gift I received from a nurse at CVPH Hospital, without missing a beat, Sister Dominica commented, things may seem bad, they could be worse so you need to take comfort in life’s small pleasures pointing out my small constructed battlefield of toy soldiers. I have always remembered that moment and try to keep that lesson close to home.     

Today was one of those days, despite a mediocre firing, one piece came out that I was relatively pleased with for longer than normal and a parcel arrived, quickly and at a very good price. Illustrated are ten double boxes of my favorite snack from Japan, Tomato Pretz. They were on sale at YAMI for a very good price, super reasonable shipping cost and good through the middle of 2027. I guess it is true, life’s simple pleasures, what else can you ask for, a good pot and a box full of snacks, that is just perfect for a Monday or any day that ends in Y. 

(This is in no way intended as a promotion or advertising for Yami, in recent times, it has been rather expensive to get Tomato Pretz here so when I spotted this add on Facebook on Thursday, I thought it worth the risk. I should also interject that I did mention the word, “pot” so at the very least, this post is pottery adjacent.)

HIKIMAE / RESTRAINT

To understand the legacy of Shinkai Kanzan (1912–1991) and his work, one must look beyond the mere decorative and toward the intellectual rigor he brought to Kyoto’s ceramic tradition founded on centuries of an aesthetic unique to Kyoto (Kyo-fu) which at some level relies on restraint (hikimae). Born into the esteemed Shinkai family and with an eye forged under the guidance of Shofu Yohei IV and Kiyomizu Rokubei V, Kanzan occupied a unique position in 20th-century Kyo-yaki, bridging the gap between historical refinement and the modern studio pottery movement. This classic covered jar is a perfect example of restraint, featuring the shika (deer) finial, is a quintessential example of his ability to bring classical motifs with a sophisticated, sculptural sensibility together in one pot.     

The silhouette of this jar speaks to a grounded, conservative aesthetic that remains deeply functional showcasing his technical master of the clay and glaze. The vessels possess a powerful presence, tapering elegantly to a well-defined foot that provides a lofty sense of lift without compromising stability. There is a specific attention to proportion here; the relationship between the shoulder's breadth and the lid's inset shows a master’s understanding of spatial harmony while the addition of the lugs creates a triptych of elements that act to visually center and balance the verticality of the shika finial.    >Kanzan’s surface treatment on these pieces showcases his sense of glaze wizardry showing controlled variation/ variegation where the glaze, a rich, iron-saturated amber flows effortlessly and intentionally over carved decoration that suggest the movement of grass or perhaps the texture of the forest floor. The use of this decoration is well conceived for design and purpose, allowing the glaze to pool and break, creating highlights and shadows that give the surface a tactile, three-dimensional quality. Though this appears to be rather monochrome, like most of his glazes and pottery, there are nuances and subtleties that see movement and life painted across the surface.        

The shika finial is not meant merely as ornaments; they are small sculptures in their own right and by choosing the deer, a symbol synonymous with Nara’s spiritual landscape and Japanese artistic history, Kanzan creates a bridge between the modern vessel (of the 1970s) to a centuries-old lineage. The glaze on the deer finial displays a subtle mottling, reminiscent of the results found in the wild, this adds a hint of the natural to these abstracted images, echoing the beauty of nature even on a shelf or desktop. 

In the mid-20th century, Kyoto was a melting pot, a veritable crucible of ideas and ceramic innovation where the Sodeisha group was pushing toward purely non-functional "objets," Kanzan and like-minded potters maintained a commitment to the vessel even as the concept could became a bit abstract and less straight forward. His role was that of a scholar, potter, teacher, someone who respected the traditional conservative elements and the Kyo-yaki and Kyoto ideals sought to refine his voice and vision to appeal to a new, educated contemporary audience.    

In some respects, Shinkai did not just make pots; he helped establish and curate a bridge between the past and the present where his work represents a brand of connoisseurship that values the technical aspects of ceramics as much as the final aesthetic result. By maintaining this balance, Kanzan ensured that Kyo-yaki did not become a static relic of the past, but a living, breathing art form that could accommodate personal expression while respecting the conservative standards of traditional craft. This jar and others like it remain a testament to that enduring, traditional spirit. 

CONTROLLABLE

Controllable  (kən-ˈtrō-lə-bəl); capable of being controlled 

Illustrated is a simple thrown and altered katakuchi pourer from two firings ago. Thrown round and pushed oval, a spout was pulled while still really wet and once tooled, I added a thick layer of white hakeme slip around the piece. This is pretty typical of the results I am getting with plus or minus effects unless I really go for a simpler look or a really, really runny one. I think you can see from the underside of this piece that though the glaze ran quite a bit creating a rather nice, multi-color cascade around the form, gravity was a bit impeded by the foot which is the intent and let’s be honest, the constant hope. Where multiple glazes, gravity and heat seem to come together, the results are as much a mystery as they are bonus. Though I said this surface is somewhat typical, the more I build up the surfaces the more serendipity plays a role in the final object and in this case the flowing glaze runs around the exterior and the way the surface runs from the spout into the center of the katakuchi are about as I would absolutely like them to happen even though my hand can only gently steer the outcome. I realize I have said this before but if this was completely controllable, I would have to move along and as long as there are surprises including becoming one with the firing plinths, I would not want it any other way.

 

THE GOOD

Illustrated is a slightly unusual Tamba rokkukei style chaire by Nishibata Tadashi. As is probably readily apparent is that this is an earlier work, likely from the 90s and is a wonderful study in form and surface which work in near perfect harmony with each other. The form is not what I would describe as a typical chaire form though the surface is classic Tamba and Nishibata, fire color and a wet surface surround the form with some patches of thicker ash present but what is not quite evident in the photo is the overall wetness and iridescence fumed onto the surface during the wood fired process. Between the form and firing process, just like the geological forces accrued over time, this chaire has become its own little gem where each turn of the form exposes a different but continuing landscape wrapped around this geometrically create piece. The pot is completed with a fine textured cloaked around the chaire and topped off with the purity of a fine slightly off-white lid which through careful consideration adds a completeness.          

Likely based on historical archetypes that came from China (karamono), through his handling and firing, Nishibata has created an object that is distinctly Japanese (wamono) and leaning into Tanizaki’s philosophy, the angular planes add a real sense of shadow and mystery while by used in the tea ceremony. Though this is early work, before his mature style had come into play, it is clear that his considered sense of form, purpose, function and firing collaborated, one and all to gift us this diminutive treasure for use or just a lifetime of visual pleasure where the “good” just never goes out of style.

IN THE MOUTH OF THE DRAGON

Illustrated is a quick photo I took years back of Kohyama Yasuhisa (b. 1936) who likely stands as one of the most vital figures in the contemporary Shigaraki scene if not that of all Japanese ceramics. Renowned for his part in reviving the ancient wood-firing tradition of anagama firing Kohyama is best known, especially in the West for his expanding the boundaries of sculptural form within ancient materials and techniques. Functioning and creating outside the traditional master/ pupil system, Kohyama pioneered a distinct aesthetic synthesis that bridges the unglazed, elemental heritage of historic Shigaraki ware with architectural, modern abstraction where craft and art collide.         

At the very core of Kohyama’s work and creativity is his relationship with the Earth, the local Shigaraki clay, coarse and feldspar-rich known for its durability and earthy texture. Though Kohyama did throw on the wheel, rather than exclusively relying on the potter’s wheel to fashion classic functional vessels, Kohyama developed a signature technique using a piano wire to cut, slice, and slice through thickly created and hand-built forms of clay. The immediacy and physically and visually tactile method leaves raw, subtlety rippled facets and sharp, crisp, geometric edges that mimic natural geological formations, appearing all-natural and evoking wind-sheared cliffs or tectonic plates. Many of his works features sweeping, wedge-like forms, like wind (Kaze) dynamically balanced, sometimes precariously and other times quite solidly though both challenge much of the generally accepted sense traditional symmetry of Japanese ceramic art.          

Central to his unique style is the absence of applied glazes, they are made and fired, “au-natural”, known as shizen-yu to the Japanese. To complete his work and his vision, Kohyama relies entirely on the unpredictable atmosphere of the wood-burning anagama kiln, a single-chamber tunnel kiln he helped reintroduce to the Shigaraki region in the late 1960s which is usually fired continuously over a number of days with temperatures exceeding 1,200°C, his pieces interact directly with flying ash and roaring flames where experience and serendipity work hand-in-hand.  This intense process yields natural ash glazes, where the surface shows off a pebbly like surface together with rich hiiro and thin coats of olive-green glassy deposits formed where circulating ash melts against the clay surface. The physical placement of each object or pot within the kiln becomes a precise architectural decision based on an experienced understanding of the clay, the wood, the pathway of the flame and the void that is the anagama where Kohyama orchestrates how the velocity and currents of the fire and ash will sweep across his carved planes.        

Kohyama’s work occupies a compelling middle ground flirting between vessel, object or pure sculpture. While his pieces often retain functional interior voids and volume capable of a wide array of functional duties, to some degree their monumental presence demands consideration as freestanding art, where the visual and intellectual interaction are the concluding act of this multi-part play. By allowing the intrinsic qualities of Shigaraki earth, fire, and air to dictate the final surface landscape, Kohyama achieves an organic minimalism and his work pays homage to the medieval kilns and varying traditions of Japan while putting forth a bold, contemporary voice that has earned him acclaim in major public collections worldwide.      

On a personal note, I was very fortunate to spend time with Kohyama Yasuhisa back in the early 1990s. I was working as a tech at CSU at the time and had had a variety of experiences but this exposure gave me a real understanding of how this potter worked and what it would mean for me as a potter moving forward. From the creative process, materials and firing, it was an invaluable experience and this photo shows Kohyama-san in the mouth of the dragon, loading and getting prepared for his next firing of which I am sure that have been many, many more since then!  

“Many kinds of impressions inspire me to create art; nature manifests itself in my work.”  Kohyama Yasuhisa as translated by Wakamoto Nakae (Cleveland Magazine)

SIMPLE GREEN

Illustrated is a rather simple and small paddled jar glazed in my Oribe with a variety of washes over the surface. If memory serves me, this was specifically made as filler to fit between a group of larger covered serving bowls and thus falls under the “filler” category. I wanted to take a moment and clarify the term filler, it is not meant to lessen or diminish the variety of pieces that are made to go between larger pots and in fact some are orders as well, I just can’t necessarily think of a better more apt descriptor than that. At any rate, this current surface that I am using really shows off the paddling quite well and the light, white stoneware also makes for a brighter surface that I then muddy up a bit atomizing various oxides onto the pot which starts out as a simple green. As I mentioned it is a rather simple, even conservative pot that has found its way to Canada which I will remind readers, is still one of our largest trading partners on Earth.

TRAJECTORY

Illustrated is a small Oribe vase that despite its size, commands its space and a certain amount of attention through its sheer, unyielding presence. Almost totemic in nature it has balanced a bold texture with a subtle, stepped tapered form, a series of distinct horizontal tiers that give the verticality a rhythmic, segmented weight like some ancient stone monument. The stance is completely grounded, and the posture hints at movement that appears entirely intentional rather than accidental. The rim slopes gently inward, creating a tight, focused aperture that concentrates the interior space and compels the viewer for further inspection. The small, flanking lug handles near the shoulder are compressed against the body, serving less as functional utility and more as punctuation points that bracket the upper tier and break up the linear nature of the form.    

The surface is all about the tactile (and visual) capabilities of clay where a heavily textured, chattering pattern wraps entirely around the exterior, leaving deep, ridged furrows that trap light and shadow as well as glaze (and sometimes dust!). The texture feels eroded, raw, almost aggressive but not contrived and fussy. The surface is natural and organic, a rare and almost herculean feat of creation. Over this intense patterning, a rich, pooling deep green Oribe glaze has been applied. Where the glaze runs thick, it transforms into an opaque, vitreous moss green, collecting in deep, glassy pools within the crevices and creating a dark vertical streak down the front face where thickness and gravity battled in the ferocity of the fire and gave way to movement. Where the glaze thins over the crests of the horizontal ridges and elsewhere, it breaks cleanly to reveal the warm, buff ceramic skin underneath adding to the depth of the texture of the overall form. The interior reveals a completely different micro-environment: a dark, concentrated glaze pooling at the bottom, offering a stark contrast to the variegated exterior.        

Okabe Mineo (1919–1990) stands as one of the most significant iconoclasts of twentieth-century Japanese ceramics. As the eldest son of the larger-than-life potter Katō Tōkurō, Mineo forged his own path developing a style and work that could not be contained by the immense shadow of his family lineage and the somewhat traditional confines of both the Seto and Mino traditions. As a potter, Okabe wasn’t easily satisfied and rather than simply replicating historical Momoyama prototypes, he revitalized styles like Oribe and Shino by introducing highly personal, hand-built sculptural forms and heavily textured surfaces breathing life into a tradition dominated by stillness and sameness. Mineo rejected the idea that a potter should rely purely on the serendipity of the kiln or romanticized notions of chance forcing by sheer force of will and fine-tuned experience, his vision into his finished work. He demanded an exacting, intellectual approach to the craft, famously observing; "What meaning do instinct or accident have in achieving form? Without a concrete and accurate understanding of materials underlying technique, no development is possible."  

This specific Ao-Oribe Jomon hanaire (copper green rope impressed flower vase) perfectly captures that philosophy and effectively changed the trajectory of mid-century Japanese ceramics by treating Oribe ware as a medium for raw, tactile experimentation rather than simply a traditional canvas where the status quo dominated. The rough, chattered exterior and the heavy pooling of the green glaze are not the results of accidental distortion; they are the consequence of a deliberate, masterful manipulation of material limits. Mineo's work serves as a bridge between classical tea ceramics and modern expressive sculpture, securing his legacy as a titan who forced, even bent traditional clay into a fiercely contemporary dialogue.

OPEN ROAD

There is something seemingly quiet, a feeling of solitude leading to deliberate intimacy in holding a bowl designed explicitly for travel. The tabi-chawan, a tea bowl built for the road may hold certain demands other chawan may not, the balance between utility and presence spring to mind, a design challenge Kawai Takeichi meets with striking poise in this piece. Though it is more than likely this bowl was not meant to make its way along the Tokaido it processes those qualities even if the intent was to just make it across the vastness of a single room.    

Formally speaking, this simple bowl asserts a grounded, cylindrical mass where its vertical walls rise with an unhurried curve from a defined, sturdy foot ring (kodai), providing an immediate sense of both actual and perceived visual stability. The profile avoids ostentation, the superfluous details and throwing marks have all drifted away leaving a compact, self-contained volume that nestles comfortably in the hands. Like many pots of the Mingei movement and the Kawai school in particular, this is a vessel crafted not merely to be viewed on some distant shelf, often times collecting dust but created to be held, packed, unpacked, and used across some distances near of far even if it does end up on one’s computer desk.  

The surface, the fire painted canvas, is where Takeichi’s voice resonates most vividly and this bowl stands out from a sea of glazed ware. Covered in a rich, saturated iron glaze (tetsu-yu), the bowl becomes a surreal landscape of dynamic, dark-spectrum movement, where iron over iron punctuates the field and creates visual tension. Cells composed of golden rust, mottled ochre, and deep olive tones bleed into dark black-brown pools, creating a living surface where the dappled exterior catches the light across its gentle curving planes. Given the temperature and physics, the glaze melts and flows into subtle tendril-like runs, a testament to both chemistry and combustion. Frozen in time, the small bowl carries a wet, glossy depth that feels alive to the touch, animated and inviting, scenery constantly shifting under inspection.      

In this simple, unpretentious and noble (?) tabi-chawan, the shadow and spirit of Kawai Kanjiro, is undeniable, yet distinctly translated where Kanjiro channeled monumental energy and expressive unrestricted vigor into his creations, Takeichi absorbed those lessons and distilled them into a more disciplined and everyday functionalism. Though the expressive glaze work directly echoes Kanjiro’s mastery of the elements, Takeichi applied it to forms that for the most part remains strictly humble and utilitarian creating a mixture of both “beauty born of use” and a nobility of pragmatic creation. This bowl and works like it stand as a testament to lineage, taking Kanjiro’s fiery spirit and innovative creativity and shaping it into a quiet companion for a journey along an open road.

LIFE LESSON

I have spent the last three days making up glazes, washes and glazing up enough pots for two kiln-loads, possibly three. I am not a huge fan of glazing but am reminded of a very important (life) lesson, one I should adhere to, the time to make up glazes is when you notice they are too low to move forward and not the day you plan on starting to glaze. As with most things, this is not rocket science it is just proper planning and better time management than just rushing around trying to do too many things at once. There are several different glaze combos being fired, some tried and true and others just in their infancy so firings like this always make me nervous with more than a few pieces needed for a show and some orders. I’ll fire the first kiln tomorrow so time will tell and now it is advanced JuJu time. 

Illustrated is a Kuro-Oribe style tataki yunomi that was thrown and then beaten on and manipulated just a bit. It has a somewhat wonky appearance and rests on a foot, handcut using a simple sharpened shim stock wedge direct from the big hardware box-mart. I will say that I do enjoy making these, a process that is start to finish in  mostly under 30 minutes or so and on the odd occasion, they go right on top of the firing kiln and I am able to get them in a bisque the same day that they are made. It doesn’t get any faster than that.