RAIN

Illustrated is a teabowl I made a short while back that is unapologetically about pattern. The waisted form was thrown in porcelain and glazed in a feldspar glaze with a rich black texture over. The interior is a pure off-white crackle  with the rain pattern actually showing some nice oilspots. I know that sometimes I get more than carried away with too much pattern, but for this technique, a lot of pattern was called for. A good friend refers to this work, "wallpaper for the mind" and I am not sure I can dispute his observation.

"Finite to fail, but infinite to venture." Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

TEBINERI

Here is a video of the master potter, Raku Kichizaemon XV making a chawan and carving/ tooling the foot. The excerpt  comes from an NHK television special and shows the tebineri process of making a piece without the wheel. There are three main methods of making Raku chawan;  tebineri, made without the use of a wheel, kurinuki-carved out technique in which the bowl is literally carved out of a mass of clay and lastly, the wheel thrown, pinched and manipulated style. The most traditional style is that of hand making the pot, without the use of the wheel and stretches back to the early 1600's among Raku potters.  For those of you, uninitiated to the chawan of Raku Kichizaemon XV, he works in both traditional styles as well as making nearly avant-garde chawan that border on sculpture. Either way, his work has added a monumental leap to the Raku tradition.

A RUSH TO JUDGEMENT

"Pinch, pinch, pinch,

A bowl appears.

The fire is red hot." 

(Anonymous inscription on a Meiji period Raku chawan)

I have a friend who is very interested in the  Raku-yaki works of Raku Kichizaemon XV. Talking with him about Kichizaemon, it is abundantly clear about his passion for this work and got me thinking more about modern Raku, which simply means "enjoyment" in Japanese. Over the years, I have participated in the modern Western approximation of Raku a number of times, even seeing the late Paul Soldner make and fire Raku along the way. In a series of trips to Japan, we visited the Raku Museum in Kyoto a number of times and that really opened my eyes to the true nature and process of Raku from the late Momoyama-jidai to the present. Though spread out over centuries, there is an identifiable thread that links these works and makes them instantly recognizable as Raku.

I have seen a number of really great historic and modern Raku works, including the works of  Hon’ami Koetsu, Raku Chojiro, Raku Kichizaemon XIV and XV and the diversity among these works though large is all tied together in what appears to be a simple set of guidelines concerning the pottery and its prescribed use in Cha(no)yu.  While examining the Raku pieces on display, which also included an exhibition of chawan by Kichizaemon XV, there are a number of characteristics that are seen throughout the work, that identifiable thread. This always makes me think back on one of the first Japanese pottery books (in English) I ever read; JAPANESE POTTERY (1971) by Soame Jenyns.

To paraphrase from his book with a few of my personal thoughts and additions, Jenyns quotes pottery expert Imaizumi Yosaku, on the  five points or basis to judge good Raku chawan. Though broad and vague, the actual teaching of these points is as involved as tea itself. These criterion are as downplayed as Sen (no) Rikyu’s (1522-1591) take on tea, which is one of the great over simplifications;  “The art of tea way consists simply of boiling water, preparing tea and drinking it.”

1) The Mouth; the mouth should be a fitting "conclusion" of the form and terminate in a way that it is comfortable to the mouth and at the same time aids to cut the stream of the tea. If the mouth is too prominent, it can take away from the form and overall appearance. The surface of the lip should not be too rough to the lip of the user.

2) The shape of the teapool; the mikomi most be just appropriate and concave enough to accommodate the whisking of the tea and not so obvious that it detracts from the interior form and the overall form by distorting the base and kodai. The pool should also be smooth as to not cause any damage to the whisk and be free of any pocks or blisters which can trap the dry tea.

3) The shape of the base; the base of the bowl should be accommodating to the hand, just smooth enough to be comfortable, but rough enough to create a transition from the bowl form to the foot. The base should also create a foot that keeps the bowl steady.

4) The finish of the base; the finish should again be very comfortable to the hand, and be addressed so as to be “sculpted” in a way that it complements the form and appears natural and uncontrived.

5) The place where the tea whisk rests; this detail is usually missed among many chawan makers, there must be a conceived and well integrated “place” where the maker understands and sees the chasen resting  against the wall and lip of the chawan. This spot must by very natural but obvious to chajin and collectors when looking at the bowl.

Masatoshi Okochi, another expert, adds two additional criterion when judging Raku chawan;

6) Glaze and color; the glaze must be fired to the right temperature and is allowed to run down and create a rolling landscape or visual to the bowl, this detail is best when it is suggestive or evokes a naturalistic appearance. The color of the glaze must “blend” into the glaze and support and compliment the form.  The color must also take into account the balance between the glaze color and variations in whisked tea. The depth and richness of the best glazes are not easy to describe, but once seen, they are never forgotten.

7) Sugata; The form must asks to be handled, picked up and set down and imparts a steady stance when it is at rest and in use from the preparation of tea, to whisking to the actual act of drinking the tea. The posture of the bowl is staged by how the base and form interact.

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Like the utter simplicity of Sen (no) Rikyu's explanation of tea ceremony, the guidelines and rules concerning the Raku chawan and chadogu is rather simplified and seems like nothing more than common sense. As you examine the number of great Raku chawan though, the subtleties and complexities of their manufacture is written in their form and varying attributes. In seeing a vast number of Raku chawan it is clear that many potters have not mastered the art of this style of work and that there is much more to these simple Raku chawan than a bowl pinched from a small ball of clay.

Illustrated is a lusterous Kuro-raku chawan by  Konishi Heinai II (b.1928) of the Taikogama. This chawan has a luscious black citron style surface and the form is broad and very solid in appearance. It rests on a narrow, hand tooled foot and the entire chawan is covered in the rich black Raku glaze. Konishi studied and was later adopted by his uncle Konishi Heinai I and also went on to study with Kawakita Handeishi (1878-1963) and though adept at a variety of styles, he is best known for his chadogu in Raku and Iga-yaki. This fine chawan shows the careful thoughtfulness of Konishi's understanding of Raku from the lyrical roving lip and excellent choice of the tong mark placement.

COIL & THROW

Back in June I posted up an early mizusashi by Furutani Michio from the 1970's, fast forward, probably a decade and we have a similar form, but it shows maturity and certainly advances in his firing ability. The pot is of an elementary form, made by the coil and throw method which was how most of Furutani's pots were made. The stout form is stripped down to its barest essentials and the firing has created a rich ash covered surface which completes the dialogue of the pot. The running ash on the face of the pot creates a wonderful vertical image that appears to disappear beneath the exceptional shadow line that the potter engineered into the pot. Looking at this pot, there is no escaping that classic Furutani style and his mastery of  anagama firing.

KATO YASUKAGE XIV (1964-2012)

I was recently informed of the death of the talented Mino potter, Kato Yasukage XIV who died in a car accident on August 13th. Kato was the 14th generation of his family to make pottery, stretching all the way back to the Momoyama period. Whether the works were bold or subtle, his insightful touch brought his pottery to life and added a resonant contribution to the Shino and Oribe traditions. He will be missed by many.

AGREE TO DISAGREE

I think back to reading and hearing about Bernard Leach's theory, that if you took five pots and ten "experts", all ten of the experts would agree on which was the best pot. Over the years however, from my own empirical observation, that would seem to be more theory that actuality. Through the years, I have been to quite a number of gallery and museum shows, with experts and aficionados alike and it never ceases to amaze me the wide array of choices that individuals arrive at. One person picks one pot, another a different piece and so forth, throw in the discussion of the various merits of various pots and what you arrive at is that objectivity is severely clouded by one's subjective reasoning and emotions. The characteristics of subtlety, boldness, masculinity, femininity,  form, function, style, irregularity, symmetry; are rooted in our sub-conscious and drive our likes and dislikes.

With the advent of the internet, relationships with potters and collectors has opened up a forum to discuss the pros and cons of pottery and again, it never ceases to amaze me how a pot one individual or group loves is almost loathed by others. I am constantly engaged in emails with people extolling the virtues of one pot or potter while vilifying another. What I have discovered is the bottom line is that subjectivity prevails and the dialogue one has with a pot, positive or negative is dictated by the experiences and preferences of that single viewer.  If objectivity ruled, everyone would like the same standards of varying fields and things would be more than a bit bland. It is this division of opinion that makes studying pottery interesting and keeps everyone from wanting the exact same thing. In the end, we all just have to agree to disagree.

"It is the difference of opinion that makes horse races."   Mark Twain (1835-1910)

POT LUCK

A while ago, a good friend of mine acquired a great pot, remarkable by any standard. By remarkable, I mean a pot that is truly a masterpiece by the potter and certainly a museum quality piece, a rather rare thing. Honestly, it was everything I would want by the artist and then some, I could go on and on, but there really are not enough adjectives to adequately describe the pot. At the risk of being forward, I asked him if he thought there was any way in which he would part with the vase and at the very least, should he decide in the future to sell it, would he think of me first? Not surprisingly, he said, if I wanted it, I could have it. I say not surprisingly because he has been among the most gracious of any collector I have ever met.

The highly anticipated vase arrived and did not disappoint at any level. In fact, the form, surface, size and presentation of the pot all exceeded any expectations I could have had and the posture of the pot is just priceless. The real reason that it was sent my way is that my friend realized, to him it was a really good pot, to me it was the near pinnacle of what I collect and knowing that, he selflessly thought it belonged in our collection. After reflecting on it for a while, though I am exceedingly happy to have the pot luck, the truth is I am even more pleased to have such a good friend and hope I can return the favor three-fold. After all, a good friendship is the foundation you can build your life upon.

"Friendship without self-interest is one of the rare and beautiful things of life."  James Francis Byrnes (1882-1972)

SPACE, THE FINAL FRONTIER

As any potter can attest, studio space is always being pushed to the limits of its capacity. My studio is a slightly large, 2-car garage, built under the house with an adjoining area which has a furnace/air conditioning unit and hot water heater and a small room, about 8' X 6' used as my glaze making nerve center. The open studio houses two banks of shelves, wall mounted shelving, two kilns, a slab roller, kiln shelves/posts, wedging table, clay storage, 2 - 8' tables and my wheel and ware board station near the wheel. If that sounds like a lot of stuff, though it is the bare essentials, every nook and cranny and open wall space is in use. After throwing terra cotta for 7 days, the shelves and tables are full, there are ware boards on the floor and I have quite a bit more to make. I am constantly astonished how quickly the studio fills up and even more in awe that space, really is the final frontier.

SIX OF ONE, HALF DOZEN OF THE OTHER

Recently a collector friend sent me a group of vases and several chawan to look at and identify. The pieces had been collected over a decade of living in Japan. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was aware he had a keen eye so I had very high hopes. The collector, primarily interested in Nihonto, collected the pieces from 2002 to 2011 and were bought from either gallery shows or ceramic dealers. As I began to unpack the group, I was immediately struck  by the potters and styles. The first two unpacked were vases by Matsuzaki Ken, both exceptionally well wood fired. The next pot was a heavily faceted Ki-Seto vase by Ando Hidetake and the last vase an ancient looking Iga piece by Kojima Kenji with impressed stamps on either side and a wild array of ash, including the upper portion covered in a blanket of green ash acting as a window into the violent nature of the firing. The two chawan didn't disappoint either, one an illustrated  Shigaraki chawan by the late Furutani Michio and a phenomenal Iga chawan with a brilliant wonky posture born out of design and intense heat. In total, an impressive, small collection of great pots.

Illustrated is a stellar Iga chawan by Kojima Kenji. Over three-quarters of the exterior surface is covered in cascading ash, creating the impression of perpetual movement.  The interior is also covered in ash with the floor of the bowl having a glorious pool of brilliant green glass staring back at the viewer. The foot and overall form has been pushed to the limit of the intense firing and what is left is a pot that displays a timeless, medieval attitude that is the goal of many  a potter, which few can achieve.

"I would rather be able to appreciate things I cannot have than to have things I cannot appreciate." Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915)

OUT OF TIME

Illustrated is a classic Iga chawan, made in the last 20 years or so, but medieval and timeless in appearance. The rustic beauty of the clay and its ash covered surface suspend the piece, out of time, neither new or old, but possessing a quality that makes great wood fired pots so evocative. This Iga chawan is by Kishimoto Kennin, a gifted renaissance potter who has mastered a wide array of styles, though for me, it is his fluid kannyu seiji and Iga pottery that speak about any time from Momoyama to modern days.  

"Time is the longest distance between two places."  Tennessee Williams (1911-1983)

THE RED MENACE

Ah, the joys of terra cotta, they are numerous and nearly infinite, followed only by the realization that after several months away from the red clay, it is as if I had forgotten how to throw entirely. When I get in that rhythm of throwing stoneware, at times, it seems anything is possible on the wheel. The clay is so compliant and cooperative, it has body and it stays just where you push or pull it. Terra cotta on the other hand is vastly different and each cycle with the demon red clay requires its pound of flesh to get the ball rolling. Over all the years of working with terra cotta, I have fine tuned a way to get back into the swing of things; start simple. The first day is at best, a so-so day, so work on small bowls to get back the touch to work with red tooth paste.

I was recently asked (commissioned) to make a small dinnerware set in terra cotta which was the genesis for this new cycle. Since I will also need some terra cotta pieces for some upcoming shows, I thought now was as good a time as any to get going. Plates, bowls, serving pieces, covered jars and some tray forms are on the agenda to be decorated in my abstrakt resist, tebori, Its Still Life and black and white slip, when all is said and done, probably 3 to 4 kiln loads and about 120 pieces or so. Since I only started on Monday, I think I have a few more days to go, before everything is thrown or made and in the mean time, I will use every extra moment to moan and groan about working with the red menace.

ITINERARY

Anyone who has traveled understands the necessary planning that is involved especially when visiting appointments are arranged prior to the trip. Having made a number of trips to Japan during the 90's, the itinerary is almost as important as the plane tickets. For us, our plans included special landmarks, castles, temples, gardens, museums and of course pottery destinations and individual potters. Seeing Osaka castle, the Kiyomizu-dera, Daitokuji, Ryoanji and numerous other sites was woven into our plans to visit with potters from Kyoto, Shigaraki, Iga, Mino, Bizen and Hagi. Normally we would make plans to meet with 6 to 8 potters on our trek and possibly met a few others along the way by serendipity, like when I walked into an exhibit and got to meet Suzuki Osamu! Though collecting pots is wonderful, our trips were about seeing great cultural landmarks, museums, enjoying some great food and experiencing pottery at the very source. A well planned trip yields a decade's worth of experiences.

Recently, a fellow collector from New England, who I have gotten to know over the internet, made a well planned trip to Japan with the major focus of meeting with and seeing pottery in a variety of locales. His trek, almost epic in nature, was all planned with the help of a wonderful native Japanese  dealer showing what can be done by a motivated collector in the internet age. Having a predilection for wood fired pottery, his trip brought him to Bizen where he meet with  Isezaki Jun & Koichiro, Kaneshige Kosuke, Kaneshige Junpei and Donna Gilliss who studied with Isezaki Jun before setting up her own studio in Bizen. Along with Bizen, he made his way to visit with Shigaraki and Iga potters, which included; Kishimoto Kennin, Kanzaki Shiho, Kohyama Yasuhisa, Furutani Churoku IV, Tanimoto Kei, Okuda Eizan, Sawa Kiyotsugu and one of my personal favorites, Kojima Kenji. Aside from these wood fire locales, the stops included Hori Ichiro, Ajiki Hiro, Higashida Shigemasa, Kato Yasukage XIV, Mihara Ken and Maruyama Touri. The stay was also punctuated by visiting several exhibits including the works of Tanaka Sajiro, Inayoshi Osamu and Uchida Koichi. As you can see, he covered a lot of ground, saw a large number of pots and did it all without going on a pottery tour. Along the way, he also got to enjoy some great food and even brought home a treasure or two for all of the efforts of his well planned trip.

Illustrated is an Iga tsubo, which was collected at the studio/home of Iga veteran, Kojima Kenji. The fierce ferocity and velocity of the firing is frozen onto the surface of this tradtional, yet modern Iga tsubo and the pot can also be seen to scale in the photo of Kojima-san at his home.

(Illustrations courtesy of a private New England collector.)

DISTILLED

Illustrated is a bowl, about as simple as I can make it, distilled down to an undulating form with three areas which have been pulled out, spout like, around the pot. This stoneware bowl was first bisque, then dipped in a bisque slip at the three points, creating the triangular void in the center of the piece and then glazed overall in a thin nuka ash glaze. The glaze is made with unwashed nuka ash and where the impurities collected in the bottom of the bowl there are spots of iron and what not about giving the piece a richer landscape. I realize that a lot of my pottery is anything but simple and every now and again it is rather satisfying to strip away the extras and work as simply and directly as possible. I think this bowl fits that category.

FINITE H

At almost any level, it is hard to think of hydrogen as a finite material since it is about 75% of all the known  material in the universe, but, the reality check is, that it is. In essence, the material that we all take for granted, is the fuel of everything, it is the virtual energy of stars ( and nearly everything else as well). As a potter, I have really not given hydrogen much thought, but it is part of everything I do, from the making to the "baking" of pottery. Without it, there would be vast nothingness and according to scientists, that is exactly what will happen in the distant future. As the hydrogen is finally depleted, stars will die and implode, everything will end. To paraphrase physicist Brian Cox, as this happens, "nothing will happen and will continue to happen for all eternity". Why the sobering thought? Why not, its Wednesday.