NOT ANOTHER MARX BROTHER

As long as I have been interested in Japanese art, I have loved traditional Japanese painting and calligraphy. When you pair those with the imagery of pottery, well, I am always interested. This modern shikishi (poem card) is by Shimizu Kosho (1911-1999), a Buddhist priest who created art in a variety of mediums, including paintings and actual pottery. This painting depicts a kintsugi style chawan by Honami Koetsu entitled, SEPPO (Snow Covered Hill) that has been lovingly repaired with gold lacquer brings the bowl to a state of wholeness again. Through the restorers’ art, the chawan must now be an entirely different vision that it was prior to its present state.  In the west, damaged pieces are many times thrown out, while in Japan, in particular, every care to preserve and restore, even ordinary objects, shows the reverence and respect afforded the hand made.

Though I have never seen the Seppo chawan in person, I can not even imagine it in any other vision beyond its reassembled presence. Its beautiful pinkish-brown glaze with areas of drifting grey-white punctuated by the dramatic gold lacquer assembly lines makes for a visual narrative distinct among other Raku masterpieces. It may sound somewhat heretical, but from my perspective, the state it now is in, makes for a much richer and even more interesting piece. The story it could tell regarding its survival and transformation into a broken beauty, are a testament that all the kings horses and all the kings man, can at least put pottery together again.

“It is better to have loft and lost than to never have loft at all.” Groucho Marx

                                            Seppo by Hon'ami Koetsu

SHARDS

Because of the way I glaze and the glazes I use, running glazes are the norm for a typical firing. On the odd occasion, I dip a bit too deep or too thick and well, the consequences are enivitable; the glaze runs off the pot. Some of these pots are easily salvageable with a small grind here or there, but there are those others that no amount of grinding, nor all the king’s men, will save those pots. As a female student at CSU was fond of saying; “its Hammer time”. I use clay boxes to collect up the shards of the broken pots and really try to limit breaking as few a pot as possible. Some of the real runners go to friends or family or go along with purchased pots. The ones I break, well honestly, they just need to be broken.

Having had the opportunity to work in Japan and travel about there as well, I can tell you, there are shard piles that rival anything imaginable. At the studio of Kohyama Yasuhisa, there was a shard pile of a different type; back in 1992 (?) a huge mudslide occurred in the midst of his firing his anagama. The anagama and all of its contents were instantly turned into rubble and shards. Poking around the area, there is still evidence of shards littering the area all now overseen by a massive retaining wall behind his property to avoid a repeat. At the home of Tsujimura Shiro, along side the large numbers of finished pots, strewn around his property are large mounds of shards from decades of work. Shigaraki, Iga, Shino, Seto-guro, Kohiki and other styles proliferate these mounds. I just kept thinking, with enough time, energy, patience and glue, what pots could be rebuilt.

Over the years, besides the actual places I have seen in the US and abroad, you hear stories and see pictures of the practices of quality control at work in the shape of small, medium and large shard piles. The stories of the seihakuji and yuteki potters destroying large numbers of pots to maintain an exacting standard are common and retold countless times. I actually have seen photos of Tsukigata Nahiko with a hammer breaking pots I would love to own, with small mounds of shards at his feet. The practice of breaking pots is as old as the practice of making pots. Look around and you will see pot shards as far back as the beginning of man baking clay. Though no one enjoys breaking his/her’s own pots, this is just another (cruel) necessity of pottery making. Not every pot is going to be a winner, not ever pot will survive the fire and surely not every pot will meet up to the standard of the potter themselves.

Illustrated is a group of “failed” Jian ware oilspot pottery shards from Sung Dynasty (960-1279) China though possibly as late as the mid-1400’s and excavated in the 1920’s. These pots were broken intentially as they did not meet a particular standard, they were over fired, under fired, fused together or had excessive debris attached to the glaze surfaces.

(Illustration used with the permission of a private pottery scholar)

DAMAGED GOODS

I was recently offered a rather wonderful piece of pottery and at a fraction of its worth. Sounds too good to be true, I was informed by the owner, that there was an insignificant kamakizu (kiln flaw) and a small piece had been broken off the handbuilt form from the firing. Pictures sent and pictures received, but what I was looking at was not a kamakizu or some damage from how the piece was made or fired, rather in the colloquial, it was a big chip. I spent some time examining the pictures at actual size and just came to terms with the fact that the damage was beyond what I could live with.


As a collector and certainly as a potter, I want my pots to be perfect, no chips, cracks, sharp bits or any other cosmetic or scructural flaws, nor would these be anything I would sell without full and detailed disclosure. I can not say all that I have collected is perfect either, though in all of our years of collecting, we have only ever bought one damaged piece intentially. That was a wonderful Persian bottle where the neck had been cleanly broken off and repaired so well as to be “nearly” invisible. The other damaged goods that we have owned, presently or past tense, arrived damaged and were either concealed by the original seller or broken in transit. My theory is rather simple and certainly not on the level of Schrodinger’s cat, but I fixate on the negative when looking at pots. To me, that Cindy Crawford mole isn’t an attribute, but a deficit, that is just how I am built. I know, I am not the half-full glass guy. Though the inevitable is that a certain pot will come along and despite some “slight” damage or a repair, it will be simply irresitable.

As I have written previously, I certainly understand and appreciate the “scarred beauty” of wood fired pots, but when it comes to other pottery, I admit, I have little tolerance. The damage that I see, impacts the intent and presence of the potter and pot. That being said, what would a good Ki-Seto vase by Arakawa Toyozo be without cracks that originated in the process and firing? Why I see those as different, I am really not sure, but when “someone” knocks off a lug of your favorite vase, that surely is something very different and having nothing to do with the original intent of potter or pot!

F72111

I fired the kiln yesterday, the hottest day of the year, so far. Just would figure that would be the intersection between plans made and nature. It was brutal firing the kiln and the cat was even giving me these looks like; “what the h*ll were you thinking”. In my mind, I wanted the kiln fired to get some orders unloaded and packed and shipped out right away. Good customer service goes a long way and it is always a relief to have some things finalized. The other reason I was so stubborn was I wanted to see a couple pots in particular and a group of pots that were testing a new glaze.

As may be apparent for anyone on the outside looking in, I have a hard time leaving any one glaze alone. I seem to have a compulsion to tamper with, tweak, tear and re-assemble a glaze to see what I can get it to do. Sometimes this works and, well, sometimes it doesn’t. The positive results don’t necessarily make for a good glaze, the ones that don’t work, sometimes are dull, uninteresting or fail catastrophically. That is probably what makes this chemical tinkering fun and keeps me on my toes when it comes to glazing.

This firing had a half dozen pieces with a radically altered iron glaze that I have been working with. At first, a few of the tweaks were entirely random, then after a few firings I decided it was time to “engineer” an iron yellow glaze. It didn’t work over the temmoku as it used some of the iron and copper from the glaze and just came out like the iron glaze I was using. After thinking about it, I decided to try it over the clear glaze that I use. The first pod test was rather promising. In for a penny, in for a pound, I threw a group of pots this last cycle destined for the new Iron Yellow tests, glazed them up and waited for the results. The results are varied and show some promise and are directly related to the glaze thickness. Overall, it has given me some things to think about and certainly some ideas for the next firing.

Illustrated is a paddled stoneware water jar with clear and iron yellow glaze applied rather thin.The second pot illustrated shows two views of a stoneware bottle with hakeme slips under a clear glaze and the iron yellow glaze a bit thicker. It is immediately apparent, this is a really runny glaze, so glaze breaks will have to be planned into the pots I intend to use it on and secondly, it still maintains that Karatsu influence and style that I am currently playing with.



IN REMEMBRANCE

It was on this day in 2000 that the pottery world lost a giant way to early when Furutani Michio (1946-2000) passed away. Considered to be one of the foremost important anagama potter, he and Kohyama Yasuhisa are credited with resurrecting the medieval style of firing with the building of the first anagama in Shigaraki Valley in several hundred years. Furutani’s mastery of firing and his fluent vocabulary in both Shigaraki and Iga was beyond compare. His chawan, mizusashi, tsubo and evocative henko slab bottles elevated this work for his peers and those to follow, to use as a golden standard.


My wife and I were fortunate to have known Furutani-san. After our first trip to Japan when we meet him, we would later plan our treks to Shigaraki valley to coincide with him opening his kiln from his fall firings. It was a special time looking through all of the recently fired pots, many still all jumbled up and stuck together with wadding all laid out on tarps and in his storage shed. Getting to see the huge smile brighten up on his face as he would point to this pot and that was magical. With his help, we would always walk away with a pot or two, usually accompanied by a small gift. His smile, knowledge and talent are sorely missed. As I think about Shigaraki and Iga pots, I can not help but be somewhat melancholy to think that no more Furutani Michio pots will be made, but this is tempered by the fact that he helped reinvigorate the tradition and set a high bar for all wood fired potters around the world, including his son and notable potter, Furutani Kazuya.

Illustrated is a photo of a lone tsubo in the corner of his gallery space that I took on my last visit to Furutani Michio’s studio. It was a magnificent piece, though solemn and solitary. In its own way, it is a fertile and promising statement about modern Shigaraki-yaki and a pot I will always remember as the soul of a great potter.

A LONG TIME COMING

A normal cycle for making pottery, a bisque and a glaze fire usually runs about 3 weeks or so. When I started the current cycle, I thought I would make a few handbuilt pieces, throws some jars, vases, bowls and teabowls and that would make for a quick turn around. As you know, the “best-laid plans” often times don’t work out the way you expected. From the beginning the constant rain, humidity and heat made the drying very slow, so it gave me more time to throw just another pot or two for a small order here and there all prolonging the drying that much more.

I finally drew a line in the sand and decided I had to stop throwing yet more pots. I set about making up small batches of 4 different glazes to top off my glaze buckets. Then a small order had to be packed up, and another and a third and forth and lastly a bigger order as well as a package to a friend and some moments spared to write a bit here and there as well. Now more time has gotten away from me, time really does fly. Add to the misc. stuff around the studio and home, a routine dental appointment, several days down for July 4th and then several days in line waiting for the new Harry Potter movie, oh wait, that wasn’t me, I had better things to do, and another week is gone by. I finally got back to the pots and sanded and prepped them for the bisque which will probably be off by the time this is posted. Tuesday and Wedsday will be those days I truly love, glazing. Unloading the bisque, cleaning, prepping, waxing, dipping, dunking, drying, cleaning and load the glaze kiln, two more days added to the total. Hopefully, baring any additional interruptions or unforeseen occurrences and I will fire the glaze kiln on Thursday bringing to a close one of the longest cycles in recent memory. I am not sure if it is just a summer pace or life corrupting plans made prior, but either way, I will be very happy to complete this firing and move on to another cycle which, no doubt, will probably take just as long……………….

“Time is the wisest of all counselors.” Plutarch

ALL THAT GLITTERS

Despite the fact that my tastes tend toward the wood fired classics and classical stoneware tea wares of Japan, there is room for iro-e, seiji, seihakuji, kutani, kinrande and many other styles. Among these other styles that we love, is the kinsai (underglaze gold) technique re-pioneered by Ningen Kokuho, Kato Hajime. His use of this technique was wonderful and lyrical in its presentation and it is that sense that he handed off to one of his students, Ono Hakuko (1915-1996). All that glitters is not gold, but in this case, it actually is, pure gold under the glaze.

Ono Hakuko not only learned the technique from her mentor, but decidedly made it her own in how she made use of it in bold geometric patterns as well as delicate foliage and naturalistic patterning. Well known for her large circular pattern as well as birds and triangular designs, Ono made excellent use of not on the technique but its integration with the porcelain clay body and use of Persian blue, green and golden yellow glazes. She was rewarded for her exceptional body of work and addition to the style with the prestigious Japan Ceramics Society Prize in 1980. In turn, Ono Hakuko passed this demanding technique on to her son, Ono Jiro, who has not only mastered the kinrande process, but he has also added to the possibilities.

Illustrated is a wan-gata style chawan by Ono Hakuko. This jiki, porcelain chawan has a Persian blue style glaze over the underglaze gold which is composed of large bold geometric areas with fine lines separating the monolithic shapes. To see her work in person is of course the best way to enjoy them. The underglaze gold creates a luminance that shines from within the glaze and makes the spirit of the bowl come alive. In this achievement, Ono Hakuko is unrivaled.

MOSTLY BLACK & WHITE

Having worked with a number of potters and at different locations has a large number of advantages. In essence, you learn all along the way and pick up neat tricks and glazes as you go. What you do with these new techniques and surfaces is up to you. Over time, you can process this input by putting it into a blender and out comes something different than it was when you first picked it up.


Illustrated is a large, about 24” platter made of stoneware that combines a number of influences. The crackle slip comes from Randy Johnston, via Warren MacKenzie, the ash glaze over the slip is from Kirk Mangus and the vivid black overglaze cames from Warren as well. The decoration comes from years of studying and absorbing Zen ink paintings, especially from Nakahara Nantembo (1839-1925). Though I relied on a variety of sources, the platter comes together as something that I have to say. Using what has come before to create something original is the best that I can ask for.

IPTV; SHORT BUT SWEET

When I think about the giants of Japanese pottery of the 20th century, there are a number of potters who spring to mind, however the ones who always top my list are Shoji Hamada, Kawai Kanjiro, Okabe Mineo, Kato Tokuro and certainly not the least of which is Arakawa Toyozo. I was lucky enough to see my first Arakawa chawan back in 1982 and over the years have seen and handled a number of his works. Despite the seeming simplicity of his pottery, there is a combination of timelessness, elegance, brilliance and power all infused into his works. His mastery of Seto-Guro, Shino and Ki-Seto is made all the more remarkable as he pioneered the clay, glazes and firings that had almost entirely disappeared from Japan. It is thorough his remarkable artistic and creative genius that these arts have made such a dramatic comeback.

For my 200th post, I am putting up a very short but sweet video exerpt from an older National Geographic special that I first saw on PBS Television, it was entitled; LIVING TREASURES OF JAPAN. At the time I saw it, I had recently met with Ningen Kokuho swordsmith, Gassan Sadaichi (Sadakazu) so the segments on him and Arakawa Toyozo were of extreme interest. As I mentioned, this is short, but I hope it is as fascinating to you as it has been to me for all these years.

BOOK LEARNING

“ ‘I want to learn about pottery. What book should I read?’ I am sometimes asked. ‘I want to see a pretty girl, what book should I read?’ That’s what the Zen monk Sengai (1750-1837) would retort if he were alive.” Kitaoji Rosanjin (1883-1959)

I have often found this quote by Rosanjin particularly interesting. In over two decades of making pots, I have been asked that question more times than I care to recount, but the irony is that was the very same question I asked many years back. While engaged in writing an article on modern Japanese pottery, I met with Bill Klock and one of the first questions I asked was; “what book should I read to learn how pottery is made?”. Though Bill is not Rosanjin, he simply smiled and replied; “all of them”. With a grin still on his face, he suggested I come down and get my bearings by watching people make pots and trying it out myself. I am still not sure if going to the pottery studio for that first time was a good idea or not. The verdict is still not in.

ONKO-CHISHIN

“In a modern world, I am seeking for a work which creates tranquility and can suggest Wabi and Sabi. Mino has the wonderful Shino tradition handed down by our ancestors, I would like to continue progressing in daily life with the ceedo; ‘Look at the old to learn the new’. “ Yamada Seiji

Illustrated is a classic Momoyama influenced Shino chawan by Mino veteran potter; Yamada Seiji (b.1932). The form, glaze quality, sparse and fluid decoration and wonderful kodai make for a splendid statement about modern Shino which takes its cues from the Momoyama archetype.

More pictures of this chawan can be seen here;
http://www.trocadero.com/albedo3studio/items/1087584/item1087584store.html#item

A short video of this chawan can be seen here;

LIBERTY

“What light is to the eyes- what air is to the lungs- what love is to the heart, liberty is to the soul of man.”     Robert Green Ingersoll (1833-1899)

THE FIRST

I recently encountered a teabowl that took me way back to the very beginning of our chawan history, as they say; you never forget your first. Back in the early 1980’s my wife’s work kept her going back and forth from upstate New York to Cleveland and on many of the trips, I would accompany her. We were fortunate to meet Mitzie Verne (grandmother of actor James Franco!) on one of our trips and while my wife worked, I was invited over to the Mitzie Verne Collection of Cleveland at the time still located at her home. Her house was a treasure trove of object from her numerous travels as well as Japanese prints, paintings and pottery for sale. Despite the sensory overload, the best part of the visits was always Mitzie’s charm and infectious sense of humor. One this one fatefull visit, Mitzie showed me a wonderful large boxed kakejiku scroll and a great chawan. Despite the fact that we could barely keep our heads above water as it was, we bought both. The scroll was by Tessai, a famous painter with unimpeachable provenance and the chawan was by Takahashi Wasaburo. What I had succeeded in doing was to buy our very first, honest to goodness Japanese chawan. It may seem like no big deal now, but back then, there was no internet and no easy access to modern Japanese ceramics, short of treks to NY City or Japan. The hunt was always filled with phone descriptions and even poorer Polaroids!

Illustrated is the very first chawan we ever collected and we actually still own it. It never ceases to engage me and the dialogue a bit more mature than when I first obtained it. The chawan is by Takahashi Wasaburo (b. 1948) who studied with Ueda Naokata IV and Ningen Kokuho, Shimizu Uichi. This chawan was wood fired and is a really deep and intense seiji glaze with splashes of rich iron splashed around the surface. This chawan shows the influence of Shimizu and the shape feels wonderful in the hand and my eye always sees something new even after 25+ years. I am glad it has decided to stick around.