AN ALCHEMIST'S FORMULA

The other day I ended up using a Shigaraki chawan hidden in shadows and highlighted by sunlight for a Season's greeting photo and thought best to show the piece in a more formal portrait. This haikaburi style Shigaraki chawan was made by Kohyama Yasuhisa when back when in Showa 48 (1973) and is illustrated in an exhibition catalogue from that year and in person or illustration has that timeless appearance. Though a rather early chawan by Kohyama, overall he has maintained a rather recognizable style from form, lip and kodai and because of that this the classic fore-runner of chawan made decades later. As for the surface created by one of the earliest anagama in The Valley since the 18th century, there are three distinct panels from crusty, dark ash to thin glass to rich fire color punctuated by small ishihaze, stones and feldspar popping out here and there. Added all together, the features like an alchemist's formula come together to create a bowl that sits rather nicely in the hand or on display and offers all of the tidbits that contemporary Shigaraki pottery is well known for. 

 

GOING BACK TO MOVE FORWARD

Every now and again I find myself going back to move forward, not exactly to the drawing board but rather to a way and style of working that I have moved away from. In this case, though I am constantly working in terra cotta which is about 80% of my out-put, I decided to do some black and white combed slip pieces in an Oribe and an amber glazed surface using stoneware. For the firing this covered jar came out of I made about a dozen or so covered jars, all black and white slip, some trailed, others brushed and combed in sized from about 12" to 15" in height. 

This particular jar was slipped and combed and has two lids, the interior lid and the exterior one that fits over the neck of the pot. I was, am pleased with how they came out and really like the pattern created by the comb showing up as a rich, darker color through the transparent Oribe glaze. In many respects a see a lot of my old mentor Bill Klock in these pots together with the wide array of historic pottery made in this style with a hint of a Japanese flair through the use of an Oribe style glaze. These were rather enjoyable to make, I like the honesty and directness of such pots and I hope that I circle back to making a few more pieces including larger jars and plates/bowls in the near future as now that my wife has snagged one of these jars she informed me she needs a "good size" plate for the wall and to use on the right occasions.

ONE HIT WONDER

I have to admit when thinking about the Iga and Seiji potter, Kishimoto Kennin, Ki-Seto is about the last thing that springs to mind but that is exactly what we are looking at proving he is no one hit wonder where it comes to surfaces. This is neither my pot nor my photo, this chawan belongs to a fellow collector and is an earlier piece by Kishimoto showing off a classic form and somewhat unique glaze surface that along with all of his other surfaces, he has managed to make this Ki-Seto particular to his studio. Beyond the form, the slightly meandering lip, protruding rib, centrally located and the fast spatula work breath the right amount of movement and life into this chawan making it somewhat enjoyable in the viewing and presumably even more so in the using.

GRAND PURPOSE

Looking a bit like a battlefield of both competing and complimentary textures and hues of color, this Oribe chawan is evidence of modernity in a tradition that has proliferated chadogu for nearly five centuries. This Oribe chawan was made by Tsukamoto Haruhiko and is the embodiment of a new spirit within the Mino tradition where the old and new collide to create new surfaces, forms, styles and firing techniques to add to a long standing tradition. Though many of the features may appear traditional from form and playful exterior, the way in which textures, slips and throwing and tooling are employed, there is a distinct freshness to much of Tsukamoto's work, there is both animation and abstraction worked into the clay which springboards off the playful intent of the earliest Oribe ware. I think what I normally bring away from after a Tsukamoto Haruhiko encounter is a sense of being visually and texturally amused and though they are designed and made for use and ceremony both, harnassing both exuberence and solemnity in a three dimensional form is likely their grandest purpose.

1.5÷15=ftb

At the end of the day in which I got less done than I had hoped, I had a few minutes to spare and just about 1.5lbs of clay so I decided to see what I could get done, start to finish in 15 minutes. To be honest, I kind of cheated in that given a recent encounter, i decided to make something that I have made in the past though not for some time or in recent memory. As you can see in the picture, I ended up making a fluted teabowl (ftb) that now tooled and fluted is quite a bit lighter than it started. The original inspiration for these bowls (and jars) that I made came from a 16th medieval suit of armour* most associated with Maximilian I or II, known as Maximiliansharnisch or Riefelharnisch where the armour is heavily fluted to create a stronger more defensive surface against weapons of the 16th century. 

My intent was to create an organic form which was curvy and imitated the upper torso portion of the armour (cuirass) which also serves as a great way to handle the pot once completed. Before this bowl goes to bisque I will gently sand and round down the ridges to remove the sharper protrusions and then decide how to graze it, maybe Oribe would be a good choice! All in all, using my handy stopwatch, now encrusted in clay, from wedging to tooling the bowl took 13 minutes and 22 seconds, shy of the 15 minutes I allot myself but this being a somewhat practiced form and technique the time should have come in even shorter. As I have mentioned before, anything worth doing is worth doing even faster the next time.      

The second photo shows the finished fired maxarm teabowl that I had made as a mad dash project. As may seem totally uncharacteristic of me, I opted for my Oribe glaze with a fine addition of iron over the surface. At the termination of each channel the glaze has collected creating a dark, rich pool that has an eerie effect under the most intense light source.  

(*I should mention that since my suit of Maximilian armour is at the dry cleaners a simple web search will give you the necessary comparative illustration that you may be intrigued by or you could follow the attached link. ) 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maximilian_armour

  

NIGHT & DAY

When I look at this large bottle, I just marvel at the atmosphere that it gives off, somber, brooding and purposeful straddling the realms of utility and appreciation, all attributes that make for a powerful and direct pot. Though I knew the maker immediately, you can see some elements of Karatsu-yaki in this bottle though if you know the potter, Sakata Deika XIII (1915-2010) it is quite clear that this is but one facet of how this potter sees and interprets Hagi in modern times. Full of volume and graceful bearing this stoneware form is the perfect setting for a surface that runs with hues of creamy off-white, lavenders and pinks all punctuated by effects created by the clay surface to dark, almost ominous overtones on the rear that paints a dynamic landscape moving from the light into darkness, like night and day.       

Born in 1915, Sakata Deika assumed the mantle as head of the Fugawa-gama (Yamaguchi Pref.) where he settled in and pioneered research into the recreation of the classic Ido style chawan of his ancestry. Having a career that expands over such a long time, Deika XIII left works in a wide array of styles, surfaces and forms among which this bottle and surface seem to be prevelant right through the 1990s though this piece dates to the late 1970s. Aside from Sakata Deika's classic Ido chawan, it is clear that he was dedicated to the Hagi tradition in which he spent a lifetime combining the old with the new with a clear eye on expanding the tradition, moving forward and bringing along hints of a modern aesthetic along for the ride.

FULLNESS

Glazed and wood fired, what really draws me to this Tamba tokkuri is the fullness of the piece, the captured volume that creates a taunt form, ready to burst or perhaps just be used spilling all of its contents. Made to be used, the surface of this tokkuri is a delightful collage of creamy, running glaze over an ash glaze with areas of iron while punctuated with stone and feldspar emerging from the clay to add further accents the pot. At its core this is a simple tokkuri, skillfully thrown with a purposeful base and mouth capping the structure, centuries in the designing though clearly of a more modern age this is a pot full of movement an in the moment. In all respects Nishibata Tadashi has taken what would seem to be an everyday pot and stretched its use, definition and aesthetics into an amalgamation of old and new, simple and complex and most assuredly the familiar into the distinctive vision of a potter building on the Tamba tradition who creating uncommon works along the way.

NO PHOTO INCLUDED

On and off for the past several years I have been making these thick combed slip bottles in predominantly three glaze surfaces; Oribe, AO+ and iron yellow saffron. Recently I received an email and asked if I could make a large AO+ bottle destined as a gift, normally the largest I tend to make is about 16" tall but they wanted something over 20" when it was fired. Piece of cake I thought and I set about throwing the bulk of the form and then added two coils and threw the rest to the shoulder and luted a neck to the pot when it was firm enough. Once tooled, I applied the thick slip and combed it and was pretty confident all was well. As you may imagine, this is where things went askew as the very top and bottom were slightly different in how dry they were and the addition of the very thick and wet slip caused a split on the inside of the pot where the first coil was added. This of course went unnoticed until the pot was bisque and came out with a crack about 5 inches long and just wide enough to slip a sheet of paper into, hammer-time.     

For my follow-up I decided to throw the form in three pieces, base, top and neck and luted them together, covered it in plastic letting it equalize, tooled it the next day and waited until the last conceivable moment to thick slip the piece. The pot came out of the kiln last week, measured in at just under 21" and was immediately packed and shipped out the same day and that is why no photo is included. Hubris and routine will sneak up on you and give you a good smack every now and again which is probably a good thing for a necessary course correction.      

Illustrated is the culprit that got this adventure started basking in the sun in an old picture taken several years ago. Thick combed slip bottle about 12" tall with my AO+ glaze overall.

SIMPLE ACTION

Though I really enjoy a pot with a complex form and surface, simplicity has an allure that is just hard to explain but easier to understand when you are engaged with it. I think the difference is like the disparity between Beethoven's  HAMMERKLAVIER and Debussy's CLAIRE DE LUNE, where the one is complex and forceful and the later is calming, soothing and contemplative, in the end generally speaking, a simple pot with those characteristics wins me over most every time. This large Shino tsubo by Ando Hidetake is just such a pot, thrown round and flattened on each side, breaking the flow of the round form and the symmetry is altered with this simple action. Once dry and ready to fire, the surface had a white feldspar glaze poured over the surface where thinner areas have blushed to subtle fields and patches of iron red bringing movement and a simple landscape to life around the pot. Though simple in its form and approach to glazing, the scale of the henko-tsubo presents a sense of strength that exudes volume, commanding the space it is placed within and that is likely the feature that drives its character and appeals to me the most.

QUITE A HANDFUL

I have to admit, I really admire Kumano's optimism, just let me explain. Given the sheer size of this guinomi, just how many cups of sake (bourbon, whisky) can you imbibe before things begin to spin out of control, especially your head? That being said, beyond the optimism, I love the scale and command of the pottery of Kumano Kuroemon where size and strength are written across the landscapes of his pottery and I think this large size guinomi is no exception. As you can see in the photo, this Matsuzaka-Shino kakinoheta guinomi is quite a handful, with a sweeping form filled with movement and a surface casually and spontaneously glazed awaiting the touch and fury of his wood kiln where a coating of natural ash glaze brings the pot to life. The large undulating form is balanced on a rather sturdy base where the foot is cut as quickly and routinely as the pot was thrown and glazed but make no mistake, what appears random and carefree is practiced over decades of making and firing which culminates in each pot that is the last that he has made. This experience reaches its crescendo at the completion of yesterdays pots, building yet once again with the pots he sets about making tomorrow, that is the nature of a potter's work, especially one as bold and adventurous as Kumano Kuroemon.         

I considered Voltaire's quote, "Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are all miserable" but decided to end the week on a slightly different  tone;  "The place where optimism most flourishes is the lunatic asylum." Havelock Ellis

RINGS OF GRASS

Illustrated is another large terra cotta tebori carved platter with an inner and outer ring of the carved GRASSES pattern. I enjoy making plates from small luncheon plates to larger 24" wall pieces that are made so that they can hang on the wall as decoration or simple storage. For me making plates goes way back to diversifying what I was making early on at the suggestion of Dick Schneider at Cleveland State University. In the beginning all I wanted to make was teabowls as that was a primary interest and thanks to Dick I took up the challenge and decided there was a lot more to ceramics than making small bowls. 

Over the years I have made hundreds and hundreds of plates but love coming back to the black and white and carved black slip employed on terra cotta, perhaps it is the reminiscent comfort of those early days learning to make pots and trying just about whatever sprung to mind. The grasses pattern in particular has been a favorite to carve, the repeat and routine of removing slip to reveal the design exposes the richness of the red clay and once fired creates a great contrast between the clay and slip, the very simplest components of making pottery.

DEFINITIONS

I suspect it is rather easy to go down the rabbit hole of definitions but always ending up using terms like classic and traditional but when I first saw this pot, my brain immediately flipped through the dictionary and went directly to classic and traditional without a nano-second of hesitancy. This Shigaraki te-oke mizusashi was made by Takahashi Shunsai and there is a nearly identical piece in the catalogue; THE SHIGARAKI WARE; NAOKATA'S TEA WARE & SHUNSAI'S JARS on page 116, No. 138, both are very well fired though the catalogue entry has a slightly more distinctive firing pattern on the face of the mizusashi. What started centuries ago as an everyday wooden bucket and evoled into a ceramic object of use and ritual, this teoke mizusashi was created as an homage or copy of a traditional Japanese "hand bucket" were details of the pot are reproduced and marked in the clay from the twisted rope around the form, the wood slats and the all purpose, functional handle raising above the water receptical. The surface shows its direct placement in the kiln where ash and charcoal have painting the main part of the pot  while fly ash has landed and melted down various areas of the handle and supports adding more interest and variation to the humble form. As if the design, form and surface wasn't quite enough, the roiro, black lacquer lid (nuri-buta) is of the two part style, wari-buta* which is clearly custom made as they vary in size and each one fits specifically to one side of the pot due to the irregularities during the making and firing of the mizusashi. Ultimately my take away from seeing this mizusashi in person is that it is rather clear that near both (ceramic) dictionary entries for "Classic" and "traditional" there should be a picture of a pot exactly like this timeless Shigaraki mizusashi.

           

In addition to the photo of the mizusashi in question I snapped a quick picture out of the above mentioned catalogue to allow for easy comparison between the illustrated piece and the one that I was able to handle and study. As I mentioned there is a rather attractive design created by both fire and happenstance which I find quite compelling and has enriched the surface of the illustrated mizusashi quite a bit.   

 

( *On a side note, I graciously received some information regarding the mizusashi and lid from an advanced tea practioner in Australia who told me this style of lid, two part, no hinge, wari-buta, split lid is intended for winter tea ceremony as practiced by the Urasenke school. Further, the hinged style of wari-buta is intended for low, wide mizusashi known as hira-mizusashi.)

 

DRAMA NOT TRAGEDY

Over time I have spent a fair amount of time learning when and where I can and studying every pot that I could get my hands on and during all that time I think I have to admit my tastes are pretty eclectic though there are a few specifics that stand out and one of these is the mallet form. I am pretty sure my penchant for the kinuta is well documented in various other blog posts. As I think about the various interpretations of this simple form I always circle back to what I constantly consider the north star, the mallets of Arakawa Toyozo and how his handling of the anatomy of that pot has set a standard that spread throughout Mino and elsewhere. As you study the works of Arakawa students and their student' students it is easy to see many of the details, scale and proportions infused in these more modern works and those of Kato Kozo are no exception.        

Illustrated is as straight forward a Kato Kozo Ki-Seto kinuta form as one would hope to see, the proportions are spot on with an expanding taper from foot to shoulder and then from shoulder to mouth creating an engaging appearance that is not abrupt or in any way breaks the flow of the vertical movement. As can be seen even through the glaze there is just the right amount of articulation in the clay where the throwing marks on the neck create subtle visual furrows that are pleasing to the eye and create additional texture with the glaze and fired surface. As for the base of the pot, there is a good degree of well controlled spatula work created that moves up and down the form and established a faceted like quality to the pot. Having an experienced ideal, the simple but complex task of making these various decisions while the clay is still wet sets the canvas for what is yet to come, glazing and firing, both hopefully willing participants in the process when all goes well.       

At first glance the Ki-seto glaze appears to have been applied in a casual and hap-hazard manner but if so, that is guided by decades of making, glazing and firing and knowing what small action affects the outcome of the pot. Once glazed in varying thicknesses, the next choice is where should each and every pot be placed in the wood kiln and having watched a number of wood kilns of both glazed and unglazed pottery loaded for some potters this is where all the heavy lifting begins and ends. Each and every decision will have consequences and relying on years of firing and an intimate knowledge of the kiln, once having survived the firing a pot emerges and the surface is perfect, covered in areas of varying textures and glassy beads of ash that have burst through the surface to punctuate various areas in serendipitous jewels. The face ends up covered in a rich, crusty aburage style crust that adds layers of character and visual depth that in some respects allows its dark mantle to stand testament to the intensity of this final act of the process narrative, in this case a drama and not a tragedy. There is a lot that can be written about a good pot, a good mallet vase and what is a classic piece by a great potter and at some future date hopefully a slideshow will fill in this drama just a bit better than this static image and short description.