THE FIELD STONE

This is one of those pottery adjacent posts, so remember, you have all been warned.  

Standing within the quiet solitude of the tea room and to some small degree both commanding and orchestrating the space, the low folding screen, furosaki byōbu, serves not merely as a physical boundary separating the kettle from the host, but as an invitation into a meditative and quieted world. Painted and crafted by Kishimoto Kennin (1934–2022), he was an artist revered for his formidable mastery over intense and purposeful wood firings and raw, shizen-yu surface and glazed ware alike, this work illustrates a different facet of his artistic soul, an exploration into two dimensions. Where his pottery is defined by traditional and innovative glazes, visceral surfaces, dramatic atmospheric transformations inside the kiln, his ink painting and calligraphy reveal a gentle, self-deprecating warmth, a charm from time long passed.

The rich, lyrical calligraphy which dances across the screen presents a contemplative reflection on rustic life, a dedication to creation and quiet devotion:

“The sun rises within the potter’s wheel,

The small bird sings to the voice of clay,

And the field stone becomes the Buddha.”

The screen is completed with the signature to the extreme left, Sanzan Tojin (Mountain Potter) alongside his seal, the unpretentious and casual text is accompanied by a charming, yet understated ink sketch depicting a Buddhist monk nestled along a quiet stream. The contemplative inscription captures the heart of Zen aesthetic philosophy: the extraordinary revealed through the humble and ordinary. The constant spinning of the wheel mirror the rising sun, the song of a wild bird harmonizes with the potter at work, and a simple stone resting in an open field transforms into a object of quiet reverence and distraction from the mundane.      

Though most notably celebrated for his personal journey reviving the raw power of medieval Iga stoneware, works celebrated for their fierce landscapes of all-natural ash and idiosyncratic bold forms, as this tea screen makes perfectly clear, Kishimoto was far from a single-tradition artisan. Establishing a studio and refuge high in the mountains near Toki,deep in his personal isolation, he moved seamlessly across classical Japanese ceramic genres. He brought equal mastery to kannyu crackle-glazed celadons, Shino, Oribe, and Ki-Seto wares.     

In many respects, his creative life was defined by this breadth, fluidly translating the heavy impact of his clay work into delicately painted screens and brushwork with equal mastery and energy. In the context of chanoyu (the tea ceremony), this screen functions as a peaceful backdrop that centers both host and guest. By allowing this screen to frame its space we are instilled with a gentle reminder that spirit, hand, and nature are forever linked.