Perfection is a tricky thing
unless you are speaking about scientific or mathematical perfection.
What I have come to think is that perfection is an amalgam of a myriad of
mistakes or imperfections that one way or another tricks the senses into perceiving
the perfect. If you have ever used an instrument to measure a thrown pot which
appears perfectly round, you will be amazed that it is anything but. Years ago,
my wife and I knew a guy who cast specific parts for the US Air Force emergency
response equipment. These cast pieces had to be perfect; they were weighed to
within 1/1000 of a gram, tested with a durometer for exact hardness, measured
with varying calipers to measure within 1/10,000 of an inch and finally x-rayed
to be sure there were no voids, casting flaws, etc. For such items and
certainly other scientific objects and calculations, perfect has to be
absolutely perfect.
My latest conundrum is at
what point does a perfect pot have to be perfect, specifically porcelains celadon
pieces? There is a purity and simplicity, even a brutal honesty to these pots;
to some sterile and boring, to others breath taking, inviting and serene, that
is the foundation of these works. Despite your viewpoint, there is a resolute
perspective that these pots should be as perfect as is possible.
In my blog I have covered
wood fired pieces as being perfect if they are in the same condition the potter
unloaded them from the kiln or placed them in a signed box, scars and all, but
for porcelain, especially celadons, a whole different set of rules applies*. Beyond
the obvious of good form, symmetry and visual balance there is perfection
without being cold, boring or lifeless. If you think of potters like Kawase
Shinobu, Meada Akihiro and Fukami Sueharu, can you imagine a piece with
pinholes, a blemish or two, glazed voids, glaze drips or overlaps, areas of
crawled glaze? While these "faults" work well with the way a potter
like Kato Tsubusa works, the truth is, these pieces are held to a higher
standard of perfection because of their simple surfaces, any imperfection is
glaringly obvious and seems magnified tenfold. With opaque celadons, I
personally find no room for any imperfections but with transparent and
translucent glazes ever so minor blemishes don't necessarily doom a piece;
think of the small pinholes and iron spots in the various seiji surfaces of
Shimizu U'ichi and even Okabe Mineo. Over time, the one thing that I have
discovered is that "perfection" is ultimately defined by and relative
to what the pot is, varying wildly from style to style and what is acceptable
with Iga-yaki is no where palatable with painted Imari porcelains.
Illustrated is an Ouji
mizusashi by Hokkaido potter, Ono Kotaro. His pots are hand thrown and hand
carved to utter perfection and his fit and finish of his pottery is
exceptional. As a potter (and collector) the mind reels as I imagine how he is
able to maintain such exacting curves and create such a perfect surface. Years
of patient training, experience and muscle memory all combine to present hand
made perfection.
"Perfection is
achieved, not when there is nothing more to add, but when there is nothing left
to take away." Antoine de
Saint-Exupery (1900-1944)
(*Restrictions, exceptions
and exclusion may apply.)