BURAKKU HORU

In the structure of this simple, elegant Iga guinomi a recognizable universe unfolds where we encounter an age-old synthesis of high-fire tradition and deliberate, sculptural distortion dating back to the Momoyama days. The form immediately arrests the eye, refusing the simple symmetry of the wheel-thrown standard, carefully distorted, the oval rim is a powerful echo of the classical kutsu-gata chawan, but condensed here into the intimate scale of a sake vessel all the while its proportions masquerading as a miniaturized teabowl. Kojima Yosuke has not merely mimicked a tea bowl, he has translated its expansive, asymmetrical presence into a potent miniature and this considered choice reveals a deep respect for historical precedent, yet by scaling the 'distorted shoe' down to the guinomi. The rim flares unevenly, creating distinct focal points that invite the lip, while a strongly carved lower body and sharply defined foot contrast dramatically with the organic movement above, providing a grounded anchor for an ambitious and unpretentious vessel.    

As a result of experience and/or happenstance, the surface treatment further bridges generational techniques while echoing a developing voice and some degree of restraint. Moving into the interior, the viewer is met by a striking, deep pool of natural bidoro wood-ash, a bit like a “burakku-horu” (black hole) at the center of this universe which has melted at extreme temperatures in the anagama kiln, settling into the bottom, reflecting light like a still pool of liquid trapped in for all time. This vitrified jewel is a direct inheritance from the intense, multi-day firings perfected by his father, Kojima Kenji, yet Yosuke’s handling of the exterior shows a highly disciplined control. The outer walls display quintessential Iga characteristics, slightly rough, exposed feldspar inclusions punctuate the clay adding to the condensed landscape and adding somewhat to the texture. Rather than allowing a chaotic, heavy crust of fly-ash to obscure and dominate the form, potter and flame have conspired to create a perpetually wet surface that is as appealing to the eye as it is the hand.          

As you flip over the guinomi you are immediately struck by the beautiful, rich bidoro droplet, like a small marble that absorbs light and vision into its darkness. The drip locked in time is almost as large as the kodai and though it is slightly raised, the piece still rests comfortably enough on a flat surface to be both a curiosity and functional at the same moment. On point, the kodai on this guinomi is well thought out, cut and expressed, whether small sake cup or larger chawan, the proportions work well in either instance.       

It is clear this deliberate contrast prevents this piece from devolving into raw, unchecked drama settling for a more distinct and thought-out multi-act play and, in the end, it honors Kojima Kenji’s mastery over flame and firng while asserting Yosuke’s own edited, quieter aesthetic sensibility. In both form and glaze, this guinomi stands as an exceptionally articulate statement, a conversant bridge between past and present, father and son, and the expansive world of a modern tradition and the focused world of sake.