HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!
From Craig, Mindy and Jun
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
WAITING ON THE PERFECT
As a collector and a student of pottery, in the broadest sense, I am constantly looking for the perfect piece. Though I know each individual measures the perfect object differently, we all do have those measures both consciously and sub-consciously at work each time we view an object. Another necessary factor at play, while pursuing the perfect, is the budget. Trying to acquire those pots that meet a certain standard, have a meaningful dialogue and fitting a budget are all parts of the puzzle.
My wife and I collect as a democracy and both approach the decision making from almost opposite ends, but there is one thing that we both agree on. It is far better to collect a great piece by a good potter than a good piece by a great potter. One exceeds his daily talents and the other falls short of his potential. In living with objects, we are constantly searching for pieces that complement our environment and are not necessarily redundant of what we already live with. This makes for a constant vetting process and we are constantly switching out the pieces on display, acquiring new pieces and letting other pots go on to new homes.
Quite recently, we encountered a chawan; high up on our, well mostly my, hit list. We have a mental list of a few pots we are on the lookout for and this piece seemed to fit the bill. At first glance there is that initial excitement, then the mental triggers kick in and the critical decision making comes in to play. The form was okay but not great, the lip and mikomi were not as well addressed as we would have liked, the surface seemed fussed with, the foot was just a bit atypical and the interior was soiled from some use. I know you are thinking, how could this chawan have even been on the radar? The faults I mention are not really that obvious, unless you take the bowl to task against other examples by the potter. In the end, it was obviously just not the right pot. Our long wait would just have to get longer.
Acquiring objects to enrich ones lives and environment is an ancient pass time going back to the time of the ancient Greeks and Egyptians. It would seem to be part of many psyches and in fact, may date back to prehistoric man. Surrounding ourselves with objects of spirit and comfort just seems natural. I am sure there is some deep seeded psychological reason why [we] collect, but as long as I remember that I collect to live with the object(s) and not for them, I think all will be fine.
My wife and I collect as a democracy and both approach the decision making from almost opposite ends, but there is one thing that we both agree on. It is far better to collect a great piece by a good potter than a good piece by a great potter. One exceeds his daily talents and the other falls short of his potential. In living with objects, we are constantly searching for pieces that complement our environment and are not necessarily redundant of what we already live with. This makes for a constant vetting process and we are constantly switching out the pieces on display, acquiring new pieces and letting other pots go on to new homes.
Quite recently, we encountered a chawan; high up on our, well mostly my, hit list. We have a mental list of a few pots we are on the lookout for and this piece seemed to fit the bill. At first glance there is that initial excitement, then the mental triggers kick in and the critical decision making comes in to play. The form was okay but not great, the lip and mikomi were not as well addressed as we would have liked, the surface seemed fussed with, the foot was just a bit atypical and the interior was soiled from some use. I know you are thinking, how could this chawan have even been on the radar? The faults I mention are not really that obvious, unless you take the bowl to task against other examples by the potter. In the end, it was obviously just not the right pot. Our long wait would just have to get longer.
Acquiring objects to enrich ones lives and environment is an ancient pass time going back to the time of the ancient Greeks and Egyptians. It would seem to be part of many psyches and in fact, may date back to prehistoric man. Surrounding ourselves with objects of spirit and comfort just seems natural. I am sure there is some deep seeded psychological reason why [we] collect, but as long as I remember that I collect to live with the object(s) and not for them, I think all will be fine.
Monday, December 27, 2010
NEW FORM FOR A NEW YEAR
A while back I was asked to make a mizusashi for a New Year’s Tea Ceremony. The tea practitioner that was commissioning the piece had several very specific parameters that I had to work within. Size, form, glazes were the strictest requirements, together with the fact that the piece was to have a formal attitude and needed to “go with” the rest of his tea pieces (chadogu).
I made a number of sketches of things I thought would work within his requirements, some based on older designs, some that were evolving newer ideas and some I had never worked with before. He chose a form based on works I am currently working with and with some modifications, he approved the idea. I moved on to the prototype next, seen in the photos. It is loosely based on my interpretation of a Kawai Kanjiro façade to one of his henko forms. The glazing on the prototype was to be simple to show the form off to its best. The gallery was glazed as the mizusashi was to have a ceramic lid and a lacquer lid. I made this prototype with two different ceramic lids.
After the piece was fired, I showed it to the collector and he really liked the piece. I threw another, it was later glazed as he requested and fired in my last glaze fire. It came out exactly as he wanted and we narrowly got a lacquer lid back from Japan in time. It will be used for his first tea ceremony of 2011 and I was very happy to assist in the project and look forward to some pictures.
Illustrated is the prototype mizusashi with recessed lid and glazed in my medieval green and temmoku glazes. The chawan is a severely paddled haiyu glazed piece similar to the one he will be using. The second picture shows how recessed the lid is.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
SANCAI
Illustrated is a large and festive Sancai ware (three color) bowl by Ningen Kokuho; Kato Takuo (1917-2005). Thrown stoneware bowl with a thick incised white slip, rich alkaline clear glaze with accents of three colored overglazes.
Kato Takuo spent most of his life perfecting his pottery which was reminiscent of pieces that traveled the “Silk Road”. His Sancai and Toruko-ao (Turkish blue/ Raqqa) wares are exceptional and are a near seamless transition from the traditional to the modern.
Kato Takuo spent most of his life perfecting his pottery which was reminiscent of pieces that traveled the “Silk Road”. His Sancai and Toruko-ao (Turkish blue/ Raqqa) wares are exceptional and are a near seamless transition from the traditional to the modern.
Monday, December 20, 2010
MAJOLICA
Toward the end of my last pottery cycle, I was doing some studio management; inventory, cleaning up, straightening up around the studio. I came across a plastic bag marked “majolica” and realized at some point, I had a half bucket of glaze left and I dried it out and broke it up and stored it away in some grocery bags. This initiated a quick kiln load of majolica pots.
As a potter, I first encountered majolica glazing at CSU with Dick Schneider. His majolica style was fluid and abstract, it set a base line. Years later I spent a summer on scholarship at the Cleveland Institute of Art and was able to work around Bill Broulliard, Judith Salomon, Linda Christianson and Linda Arbuckle. It was my initial exposure to a high level of majolica ware with both Arbuckle and Broulliard having a profound fluency decorating on tin glazed pottery.
As a potter, I first encountered majolica glazing at CSU with Dick Schneider. His majolica style was fluid and abstract, it set a base line. Years later I spent a summer on scholarship at the Cleveland Institute of Art and was able to work around Bill Broulliard, Judith Salomon, Linda Christianson and Linda Arbuckle. It was my initial exposure to a high level of majolica ware with both Arbuckle and Broulliard having a profound fluency decorating on tin glazed pottery.
So two weeks ago, I threw a group of 8 plates, some serving pieces and some teabowls in terra cotta to make for a full majolica firing. I reconstituted the glaze, made a group of colored washes, bisqued the pots, glazed and set about using some of my old standard decoration on the pieces. This past Friday I fired the kiln and unloaded on Saturday. Everything made it through the firing, some pots looking better than others. It was a quick cycle and the surfaces are unlike anything else that I do currently. Decorating majolica is fun, each firing leads to new discoveries and tips on how to glaze, decorate and fire. Next time around, I’ll fire a cone cooler.
Friday, December 17, 2010
SCARRED BEAUTY
In the West where Brother Thomas is considered by many to be a pinnacle of perfection, the cracks, scars, clam shell impressions and even pottery fragments seen on predominantly Shigaraki and Iga pots would seem to be diametrically opposed, but not necessarily so. In Japan and among those who love wood fired pottery, such “flaws” are seen not only as a testament to the process but also as aesthetic enhancements that add to the character of the pot. In their own way, these scarred beauties are perfection.
From my experience, wood firing is in its way a cruel mistress. The process is one in which the potter is made to stand sentinel to the demands, groans and signals of the kiln. On the inside, the pottery is subjected to the violence and velocity of the atmosphere, constantly assaulted by flame, wood and erosion from the ash and fire. It is only inevitable that pots will have cracks and other flaws from the intensity of heat, from being struck by stoked wood, from rising too fast in temperature, hikidashi process and too quickly a cooling. Because these all affect the pot, it is an accepted reality that wood fired pots will bear the scars of the process, but it is this surface that can not be forged, forced or imitated. It simple adds to the identity and uniqueness of each pot. From Tsujimura to Tsukigata all the way back to the beginning of wood fired pottery, the process can not be separated from the pot.
Wood firing is an expensive process, if not necessarily in economic terms, certainly in sweat equity. The process is both demanding and labor intensive. The building of a wood kiln, acquiring and splitting the wood, the loading of the kiln in a confined and cramped space, the days of constantly stoking the fire all add to the investment in time, labor and money. Everything about wood firing is about a commitment and choice that also demands salvaging as many pots out of a firing as possible. In the early days, all of the various flaws were just accepted as scars of the process and as long as the pots were able to be used they were seen as a narrative of the kiln. Pots that couldn’t be used, were sometimes adapted to use by means of reconstruction, sometimes yobi-tsugi (making a single pot out of the pieces of several) and other times kintsugi (gold lacquer repairs).
All of these scars from the ash impregnated clam shell patterns resembling pate de verre glass, to cracks and fissures to imbedded shards and shadows of other pots in the firing, all add to the complex landscape, keshiki of wood fired pottery. Pots that are a throwback to the medieval times, today show every sign of blending tradition with the modern. All you have to do is take a look at the pottery of Tsujimura Shiro, Kojima Kenji and Kon Chiharu to understand why a potter would subject his/her self to the demanding process that creates pots with cracks, flaws and other problems to create objects of scarred beauty.
Over the years, I have handled a great number of Eastern and Western wood fired pots and have truly come to appreciate the battle scars of an intense process. Remebering my first exposure to Japanese pots was the Shino and Seto-guro of Arakawa, the Hagi of the Miwa and the glazed wares of Hamada and Kawai, it took me some time to accept and grow fond of kamakizu (kiln flaws) and the like. My tastes have matured and my understanding of the pots has grown as well. A few years back I had a wonderful opportunity to examine a collection of Shigaraki and Iga works by Tsujimura Shiro. Most if not all of them bore the scars of the process and in all honesty, many have benefited from such additions to the landscape of the pot.
Illustrated are two pots made by Tsujimura Shiro. The first is a medium sized Shigaraki tsubo with cracks from the coil building process along with the remnants of another pot (or two) where the pots were in contact with each other. The second pot, shown in a close-up, is a very large globe tsubo with the circular remnants of a guinomi or yunomi infused with wonderful blue-green bidoro.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
THE CONTAINMENT OF THE EVERYDAY
What is it about lidded pieces that are so fascinating? Is it the myriad of forms, types of lids or approaches to decoration? Is it the mystery of what they contain, past, present or future? I find the possibility of not knowing the contents to be part of my love for lidded vessels, in the appreciation of them and the making.
A few years back, I read an article that got me thinking about “the handmade” in relationship to pottery in general. Since as a vessel, the lidded form has provided mankind a myriad of uses from protecting seeds/grain, food, herbs and medicines and a wide variety of ritualistic practices; it was (and still is) an essential part of human existence. I have thought that it can connect us in a modern age to what it means to be human and our vast history and experiences. Objects that are based on the handmade nourish our being and environment. The lidded form, from my perspective is essential for the containment of the everyday.
Illustrated is a large thrown and altered covered box form by Michael Simon. This piece was glazed first and then fired in a wood kiln that had salt introduced to the firing. The fit of the lid is exceptional and there is just enough throwing marks left on the inside and out to show how this piece started out. I do wonder what it holds presently and what it will hold in the years to come.
(Used with permission from a private collection of American and British pottery.)
A few years back, I read an article that got me thinking about “the handmade” in relationship to pottery in general. Since as a vessel, the lidded form has provided mankind a myriad of uses from protecting seeds/grain, food, herbs and medicines and a wide variety of ritualistic practices; it was (and still is) an essential part of human existence. I have thought that it can connect us in a modern age to what it means to be human and our vast history and experiences. Objects that are based on the handmade nourish our being and environment. The lidded form, from my perspective is essential for the containment of the everyday.
Illustrated is a large thrown and altered covered box form by Michael Simon. This piece was glazed first and then fired in a wood kiln that had salt introduced to the firing. The fit of the lid is exceptional and there is just enough throwing marks left on the inside and out to show how this piece started out. I do wonder what it holds presently and what it will hold in the years to come.
(Used with permission from a private collection of American and British pottery.)
Monday, December 13, 2010
OVAL CLOSURE
Someone emailed me over the weekend and asked why I hadn’t posted up a picture of the finished oval covered piece that I had shown as greenware back at the end of Oct. Honestly, it just slipped my mind.
I had made a group of them, in for a penny, in for a pound. They all made it through the bisque and in the glaze, one lid stuck just a bit, but was easily to grind and save. Waxing can be as complex as constructing these pieces as I want a near perfect oval wax line on the inside of the lid and in the gallery. The bottoms of these pieces were all glazed and the pots were fired on wads, it makes for a neat look. I am pretty sure the illustrated piece is the one as greenware. It is glazed in my medieval green and temmoku glazes and measures about 12” from handle to handle.
I had made a group of them, in for a penny, in for a pound. They all made it through the bisque and in the glaze, one lid stuck just a bit, but was easily to grind and save. Waxing can be as complex as constructing these pieces as I want a near perfect oval wax line on the inside of the lid and in the gallery. The bottoms of these pieces were all glazed and the pots were fired on wads, it makes for a neat look. I am pretty sure the illustrated piece is the one as greenware. It is glazed in my medieval green and temmoku glazes and measures about 12” from handle to handle.
Friday, December 10, 2010
NOTHING(NESS)
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
MORE ASH GLAZES
In recent weeks, I have been working on various ash glaze tests as they apply to the type of work I am doing now. Some batches of ash are good, other not so much and filled with contaminants such as too much iron, copper and bone ash. This got me thinking about altering a couple of glazes I have used in the past, some rather drastically.
As I am altering these glazes, I thought I would share the originals; all are for Cone 9/10 and I am not sure of their exact origins;
SPECIAL ASH
Ash 50
F-4 25
OM10 25
Cobalt Carb. 1
Rutile 5
THIN TAN ASH
Ash 30
Soda Spar 30
Kaolin 30
Dolomite 25
Flint 10
Whiting 5
Illustrated, is my first and still best ash glaze on a bamboo form vase. I have used this glaze since 1990 and it has served me well. It does run as you can see, so glazing up to the foot and inside the foot can be tricky, but the results are worth it in my book.
As I am altering these glazes, I thought I would share the originals; all are for Cone 9/10 and I am not sure of their exact origins;
SPECIAL ASH
Ash 50
F-4 25
OM10 25
Cobalt Carb. 1
Rutile 5
THIN TAN ASH
Ash 30
Soda Spar 30
Kaolin 30
Dolomite 25
Flint 10
Whiting 5
Illustrated, is my first and still best ash glaze on a bamboo form vase. I have used this glaze since 1990 and it has served me well. It does run as you can see, so glazing up to the foot and inside the foot can be tricky, but the results are worth it in my book.
Monday, December 6, 2010
AT THE MOVIES
A while back, I was asked to recommend a movie about a potter or pottery. The first question I asked was, something in the fiction or non-fiction category. He replied, fiction, something like Ghost. That of course ruled out all of the documentaries I could think, as well as THE LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy and LAST OF THE MOHICANS which prominently feature hand made pottery. What sprung to mind is my favorite potter movie of all time.
UGETSU MONOGATARI (1953) is a phenomenal Japanese cinematic masterpiece by director Mizoguchi Kenji and starring Mori Masayuki and Machi Kyo. The title means; “Tales of the Moon and Rain” and is about a Momoyama era potter and the turmoil of the age. Briefly stated, the film is about two men, one a potter and the other a farmer who wants to be a samurai. It is an exceptionally filmed movie with great performances all around, great sets, scenery and costumes and a great story.
Weeks later, I heard back from my friend who immediately let me know that Ugetsu is nothing like Ghost and wondered what was I thinking. After taking just a moment to think about it, UGETSU MONOGATARI is in fact, very much like Ghost, a love story with extras. If you haven’t seen this movie and have a passing interest in Japanese cinema, than you owe it to yourself to see this film. It truly is Japanese cinema and Mizoguchi at his best.
UGETSU MONOGATARI (1953) is a phenomenal Japanese cinematic masterpiece by director Mizoguchi Kenji and starring Mori Masayuki and Machi Kyo. The title means; “Tales of the Moon and Rain” and is about a Momoyama era potter and the turmoil of the age. Briefly stated, the film is about two men, one a potter and the other a farmer who wants to be a samurai. It is an exceptionally filmed movie with great performances all around, great sets, scenery and costumes and a great story.
Weeks later, I heard back from my friend who immediately let me know that Ugetsu is nothing like Ghost and wondered what was I thinking. After taking just a moment to think about it, UGETSU MONOGATARI is in fact, very much like Ghost, a love story with extras. If you haven’t seen this movie and have a passing interest in Japanese cinema, than you owe it to yourself to see this film. It truly is Japanese cinema and Mizoguchi at his best.
Friday, December 3, 2010
ARAKAWA AS PAINTER
Arakawa Toyozo ( 1894-1985) is arguably the greatest Mino potter of the 20th century, known for his wonderful Shino, Ki-Seto and Seto-Guro masterpieces. Though known as this masterful potter, there is another facet of his artistic endeavors that one rarely sees excepting the occasional illustration in a catalogue or book. From early on, Arakawa painted in ink and watercolors, including a scroll of the famous Mutabora-gama which was his impetus for the rediscovery of Momoyama Shino.
Arakawa has left a fairly large number of his painted pottery, from stark and expressive sometsuke wares to colorful underglaze and overglaze enamel painted pottery running the gamut from traditional Japanese subject matter of flora and fauna to his own unique Nihonga inspired paintings. Some of these pottery works are iro-e style porcelains while others are seen in almost Rimpa, Ogata Kenzan inspired designs on slipware together with iron (tetsu-zu) designs on slipware and on and under Shino glazes.
Back before his discovery of the Mutabora-gama, Arakawa had been an assistant/student of Kitaoji Rosanjin (1883-1959). Rosanjin was a strict task master, a powerful ego and an artist of numerous talents which included pottery, calligraphy, painting and the designing and decoration of lacquer, metalwork lamps, furniture and seal carving. It was in this fertile and multi-disciplined environment that Arakawa was exposed to Rosanjin’s exceptional calligraphy and paintings (panels, screens, scroll, shikishi, etc.) that he also adapted to his pottery. With the literati tradition that Arakawa was exposed to under Rosanjin, it was only natural he would use his pottery as canvas as well as creating two dimensional arts as well.
There are quite a few scroll paintings (kakejiku) and shikishi (board) paintings left that illustrate everything from his friends, adventures, flora, fauna, pottery and his own artistic unique renderings. All of the works I am aware of were painted in sumi ink or watercolors. His style of painting can be divided into three main categories; simple Momoyama inspired “ink traces”, Rimpa and Nihonga inspired designs with color and definition, but not overly detailed and lastly, his detailed and precise painting showing highly rendered images. The same three broad categories are also seen on his pottery, to included precisely rendered enamels designs and patterns on porcelain. His paintings are all very expressive, individual and free spirited.
I have seen several Shino chawan and several other pots that were accompanied by kakejiku depicting the pot along with a short narrative. There are also pieces that have shikishi that were included along with a wide variety of pots. The illustration is of a Shino chawan and narrative by Arakawa Toyozo. It depicts a typical Shino chawan with underglaze iron decoration of mountains and pine trees. No doubt this once accompanied the illustrated chawan but has now been separated from the piece.
The relevant question, where is that chawan?
Arakawa has left a fairly large number of his painted pottery, from stark and expressive sometsuke wares to colorful underglaze and overglaze enamel painted pottery running the gamut from traditional Japanese subject matter of flora and fauna to his own unique Nihonga inspired paintings. Some of these pottery works are iro-e style porcelains while others are seen in almost Rimpa, Ogata Kenzan inspired designs on slipware together with iron (tetsu-zu) designs on slipware and on and under Shino glazes.
Back before his discovery of the Mutabora-gama, Arakawa had been an assistant/student of Kitaoji Rosanjin (1883-1959). Rosanjin was a strict task master, a powerful ego and an artist of numerous talents which included pottery, calligraphy, painting and the designing and decoration of lacquer, metalwork lamps, furniture and seal carving. It was in this fertile and multi-disciplined environment that Arakawa was exposed to Rosanjin’s exceptional calligraphy and paintings (panels, screens, scroll, shikishi, etc.) that he also adapted to his pottery. With the literati tradition that Arakawa was exposed to under Rosanjin, it was only natural he would use his pottery as canvas as well as creating two dimensional arts as well.
There are quite a few scroll paintings (kakejiku) and shikishi (board) paintings left that illustrate everything from his friends, adventures, flora, fauna, pottery and his own artistic unique renderings. All of the works I am aware of were painted in sumi ink or watercolors. His style of painting can be divided into three main categories; simple Momoyama inspired “ink traces”, Rimpa and Nihonga inspired designs with color and definition, but not overly detailed and lastly, his detailed and precise painting showing highly rendered images. The same three broad categories are also seen on his pottery, to included precisely rendered enamels designs and patterns on porcelain. His paintings are all very expressive, individual and free spirited.
I have seen several Shino chawan and several other pots that were accompanied by kakejiku depicting the pot along with a short narrative. There are also pieces that have shikishi that were included along with a wide variety of pots. The illustration is of a Shino chawan and narrative by Arakawa Toyozo. It depicts a typical Shino chawan with underglaze iron decoration of mountains and pine trees. No doubt this once accompanied the illustrated chawan but has now been separated from the piece.
The relevant question, where is that chawan?
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
COPPER & STONE
Something a bit different, but a technique I have been using for some time now, ishime-ji. This tall citadel jar is surfaced using several engobes and an inlaid line of white engobe into a white stoneware clay body. The jar has a clear glazed interior and a pierced copper handle. The decoration is an offshoot of my “landscape man” design which I used to try to emphasis the verticality of the jar. The term ishime-ji literally means, stone ground (surface), it seemed the best way to describe the visual as well as the texture of the technique.
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