LIGHTING FUNDAMENTALS

I know I have discussed the various lighting that I like to view pots in from the normal indoor, incandescent, tungsten bulbs, photo lighting, daylight and even direct sunlight. These lighting fundamentals each reveal various details and visions of a pot and allow the fullest, most immediate conversation that I can have with a piece though on many occasion the pots don't stick around long enough to cycle through all of the different phases of light. The way each type of light picks up on specific details, colors, clay quality and other features literally turns a spotlight on to each piece uncovering aspects that may easily be lost in one light source alone. The illustrated Kumano Kuroemon chawan has quite a bit to offer in each distinct light but in the direct sunlight the bowl just comes alive with a shimmering, sparkling appearance composed of feldspar and ash with crystals at the upper reaches of the surface creating a macrocosms within the confines of a teabowl. There is a richness and sincerity in this bowl painted by the expert guidance of Kumano in clay, glaze and fire and when you add a small portion of the sun, like magic, the chawan springs to life.

OH THE DETAILS

I was shuffling through  a disc filled with photos I have taken, looking for a specific group of pictures and saw this detail shot of a chawan that was here a while back. From my perspective, this is the type of complex, mysterious and active surface all rolled in to one chawan that is just alive and electric to the eye and touch. Made by the "Bear", this chawan by Kumano Kuroemon is an exceptional example of his work with such a rich array of activities and surfaces that the viewer is unsure where to start, the thick rich Kuma-Shino, areas of glassy ash and crusty tamadare paint the bowl like a nebulous, cosmic painting of clay as canvas, a handful of materials as paint and fire as the brush. The back, interior of the chawan is covered in ash which is eroding pathways through the Shino glaze ending up and filling the pool with a molten pond of ash frozen in time and covered in various other glaze and ash generated features. When I think about pots with complex surfaces, it is all these details that are apparent in just the singular photo highlighting a Kumano chawan that jumps to the top of the list.

"Beware of the person who can't be bothered by details."  William Feather

FINDING HIMO

There are a number of things that cat owners are painfully aware of from stuff suddenly gone missing to let's see if I can push this off the edge, the latter of which is particularly hazardous in a house full of pottery. I will start by saying that with Khan there has yet to be any incident and with Jun there was only one where I left a tall teapot in the middle of the floor and then was called away by the telephone, you can imagine the outcome, that being said, cats make far better pottery than photography assistants. I am fortunate to have pots come my way to study, photograph and occasionally sell for collectors but I also have a responsibility to safeguard the pot and send it where ever it is intended in the same condition I encountered it in, in others words, eternal vigilance is the rule of the day. I recently had a large hachi style mizusashi show up by Kumano Kuroemon which I carefully unpacked and then placed on a shelf and in the moment that it took to get my camera, the ribbon thief appeared like a ninja stalking a medieval Japanese castle wall. Khan, like most cats is especially fond of string, rope, ribbon and box cord (himo) and loves the little tufts at the ends which he can be seen going for as I was walking in with camera at the ready. I gently encouraged him out of the room and took the pictures of the mizusashi before packing up the box and packing material and placing them out of the reach of Khan, I can still hear him wailing away outside the door.

WAITING FOR THE UME BLOSSOMS

A fellow collector or rather someone who is buying pots to use, sent these two photos which I assembled to give both views of the vase. The pot is an all naturally fired Echizan hanaire by Kumano Kuroemon, the type he puts in his blast furnace kiln without any glaze and as you can tell what is visible is the rich purple surface of the pot with areas of running ash, rushing to the bottom as the piece was fired together with an array of wad scars adding to the rustic and powerful landscape. The pot stand guard in front of wind swept pine scroll waiting for the ume blossoms to bloom come spring to fulfill the purpose of this vase. There is another factor to this vase as it was selected by Kumano to appear in the TOH #88 dedicated to his work (and vision) as a potter attesting to the fondness and regard he must have had for this pot. I think it is safe to say that with or without the vivid blossoms, this vase is more than enough to get you through the winter months with something to have a pleasant fireside chat with.

REPEAT OFFENDER

I received an email the other day in which I was jokingly refered to as a "repeat offender" in that I tend to post/write about wood fired pots and Tsukigata way too often to which I retorted, it's my blog and I'll post what I want to. I have received emails like this before and it is absolutely true, wood fired pots get a lot of attention, I am mostly putting up pieces that speak to me and that I am affected by pots by Furutani Michio, Kojima Kenji, Tsukigata Nahiko, Kumano Kuroemon and others who always manage to get my mind reeling. To switch things up, ever so slightly I choose this wonderful Kawai Kanjiro henko that I have had in my pictures file for quite some time. I am particularly drawn to the stoic and purposeful form but it is the excellent articulation of the design and borders in underglaze iron, copper red and gosu blue on the gohonde style backdrop that makes this piece so eloquently conversant and immediately grabs my attention. I have seen a number of Kawai henko very similar but the background with a subtle mix of greys, lavenders and creamy tans make for a rather striking surface in which the canvas is almost as pleasing as the painted design. Even though there hasn't been a traditionally wood fired piece up in several weeks, I hope this takes a small step to a more thoughtful balance of styles and traditions.

WELL CONCEIVED HONESTY

Though  not without its organic qualities, this chawan by Banura Shiro is radically different than the chawan I posted by Kumano Kuroemon the other day. Banura Shiro had a wonderful knack for creating work that has an honest and spontaneous quality despite the fact that his work was well conceived and executed within a high degree of exacting control. I would suggest that the first step in his work was the design or concept of the piece followed by the creation of the canvas, in this case the making of the classic Banura chawan form. Once the pot was made, the general, overall texture was created and then the design/ decoration was applied and for this chawan that would then include a post-firing application of a gold rubbed finish that was finalized by a low temperature firing to lock in the surface. I have always found that despite the fact that Banura Shiro relied on variations of this chawan form and his leaves (foliage) design, each and every pot has a singular attitude and fresh appeal that allows a connected body of work to be populated by unique and individual pots.

GO

Illustrated is a close up of the interior of a rather large (aren't they all) chawan by the Bear of Echizen, Kumano Kuroemon. Known as "GO" for the five drips in the mikomi, molten drips from pots above, shelves and the kiln itself have found their way to the bottom of the bowl and have run into one another to create a design reminiscent of an abstract plum blossom. There is a great deal of happenstance when firing a wood kiln, some good, some bad and that which is expected or hoped in one manner or another. I have seen a number of wood fired pots with seemingly random drips on interiors and exteriors and in the case of Kumano, a number of his chawan and hachi have such drips to testify to the volatility and ferocity of the molten ash that few potter's can get where the clay, glaze, kiln and potter are all at the borders of their physical limitations.

"A man who limits his interests, limits his life." Vincent Price (1911-1993)

TETSU-SHINO

I put together this slideshow of a rather unusual and maybe even rare chawan by Kumano Kuroemon. The chawan is quite large and very rich in its presentation and is described as Tetsu-Shino, Iron Shino. The surface is a mixture of iron and Shino with a nice amount of natural ash to help activate the bowl which has created a bold and masculine appearance with a rather unique feudal keshiki. I have seen a few pots in this style, but this piece seems to be far more eloquent in its presentation than most and despite the dark and dramatic surface, it is a focused and contemplative piece that has a great deal to share. Large, complex and dynamic, this is Kumano at his best.

SUPERSIZED

I recently saw a video from a Japanese TV show where they show a huge chawan made during the Meiji period, it was about two feet in diameter and it got me thinking again about volume and scale in relationship to chadogu, but chawan in particular. Though two feet is just a bit large for a chawan, the o-buri super sized Hagi chawan of Miwa Kyusetsu XI (Jyusetsu) spring to mind. Mostly made in last two decades of his life, some of Miwa's chawan are positively huge, what exactly is the intent? Do these chawan transcends mere function and practicality to be conceptual vessels or more a statement about chawan than necessarily being chawan themselves? I have seen a few of these pots in person, beyond the aspects of function, these pots seem infused with pure masculinity and bravado, sculpture intended for use and aesthetic appreciation. In a magazine somewhere, I have a photo of a Kyusetsu chawan on display in the tokonoma, as a basin with a flower floating in the bowl filled with water and in another book there is a Oni-Hagi teabowl that measures 21.8cm in diameter where the average chawan comes in somewhere around 12.5cm. Functional vessel, sculpture or purely an object for appreciation, I wonder if he didn't make them like this, simply because he wanted to and he could.

As I continue to contemplate  size, scale and volume, besides Miwa Kyusetsu, both Tsukigata Nahiko and Kumano Kuroemon come  to mind. For Tsukigata, the "bushi" (Samurai warrior) ideal would seem to be part of his motivation for creating such large and powerful chawan, but for Kumano, I have often suspected that his large chawan are created at such a scale simply to match the ferocity and intensity of the firing process where the pots and potter are pushed to the brink. As I survey his large chawan I can get caught up in fantasy and imagine such bowls in use by the likes of a Sumo Yokozuna (grand champion) or the Ogre of Mt. Oe (Shuten-Doji) should either partake of tea. Illustrated is a large Kuma-Shino chawan by Kumano Kuroemon. I took the picture with me holding the bowl for scale, I am 6'2" and wear and X-L glove for perspective and this bowl measures in at just over 16.5cm, I think the size of the pot is apparent. Though I have heard Kumano's works described as grotesque (in form and scale) by some, to me there is a brutal, honest beauty to these pots. Their stories and encounters with unheard of temperatures and firings are permanently fused within their surfaces and forms. There are few potters who decide to work at this scale and even fewer who can pull it off but Kumano alone has become synonymous with chawan (and spirit) that are larger than life.

VOLUME

According to the dictionary, "volume is the quantity of three-dimensional space enclosed by some boundary", but what this definition is a bit short on creating is a real world perspective of what the volume of something, say a pot, truly means. If you have handled an o-buri chawan by Kumano Kuroemon, you will understand what I am talking about. If you are told the dimensions of his chawan, your mind and experience think, wow, that is a big bowl, but in hand and truly expressing the sense of volume of the pot, your immediate thought is WOW, that really is a big chawan. What really brings this up is that in the past two months, I have had three pots pass through my hands that I knew the dimensions, but in each case as they were unpacked, I was immediately awed by the sense of volume that they contained and the volume of space that they commanded. The three pots, a Kumano chawan, a tall vase by Kaneta Masanao and a stunning hakuji vase by Mashiko veteran, Hirosaki Hiroya. The impressive aspect of each of these pot is not simply about scale and actual volume, rather it is as much about how each command both their physical space and the space in which they are put. Though all objects will have some sense of volume, fewer yet can command the volume in which they are surrounded.

Illustrated is a tall Hagi vase form by kurinuki master, Kaneta Masanao. At over 14" tall, the vessel is impressive and imposing, commanding its space much like an ancient medieval citadel. The pot is glazed in a Shiro-Hagi glaze that has significant areas of blushed pinkish hues over half of the form and vivid areas of intense white speckles interrupting the absolute purity of the form. There are black highlights which define the form and process that peer out from underneath the glaze adding additional definition to the form and at the top of the form and on to one side there is a keyhole style opening cut out to complete the function of the form. In a static photo, volume can be hinted at, but it is only in person that the volume can be felt and fully appreciated.

"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper."  W.B. Yeats (1865-1939)

KON-JI

If you follow my blog or are just a casual reader, you may have noticed that I am also keenly interested in Japanese calligraphy. From scroll, shikishi, panels and what have you, all the way to the expressive calligraphy on pottery boxes, ink can provide insights into the artist or potters nature. There are a large number of potters who lend their artistic calligraphy to their hako-gaki but there are three who always spring to mind as being idiosyncratic and somewhat eccentric; Ishii Takahiro, Kumano Kuroemon and Shigaraki potter, Kon Chiharu. Over the years, the calligraphy of Kon Chiharu has become more personal and dynamic and the illustrated box lid is a good example of his ink from the mid-1990s. The playful nature of the ink is immediately recognizable as the hako-gaki of Kon and simply reads, from right to left; SHIGARAKI CHAIRE. The brushwork, both expressive and dynamic is economical in nature and in many respects relates to his pottery which is always presented without any superfluous addenda yet thoroughly energetic. Working out of Niigata, Kon Chiharu creates using ink and clay to reflect both his true nature and that of the tradition which he pursues.

(I apologize for the bad pun used in the title, it just seemed apropos.)

TOH

For those of you unaware, there is a very fine series of books that present a pictoral reference of contemporary potters entitled; Toh: The best selections of contemporary ceramics in Japan, published by Kyoto Shoin in 1992/1993. This series is in no way a definitive survey of each of the one hundred potters it covers, but rather is a snapshot of their work at the time of publication. Each volume is slender and is well illustrated with some slight commentary and an abbreviated biography of each artist which runs the gamut from Furutani Michio to Matsui Kosei. As I pointed out, these are not in-depth survey of the artist but I constantly find myself going to this books for both inspiration and perspective. I originally was acquiring each volume as it was released, but ultimately, my source moved back to the US, leaving me to hunt for these on my own back when there was no internet and amazingly immediate access to every nook and cranny of the globe.

Over time I have assembled the lion's share of these volumes and occasionally they yield a surprise or two. I have encountered a number of the actual pots illustrated and was fortunate enough to study them in hand and also a number of the books have been signed by the potter, adding a certain flare to the volume and in my opinion rather interesting. To clarify, there have been nearly a score of the books signed, but there are signatures and then there is Kumano Kuroemon who as the adage states; "go big or go home". Brushed boldly, rapidly and nearly spilling off the pages, Kumano has signed the frontispiece to Vol. 88, looking like a small folding screen. This particular book belonged to a fellow collector who decided to sell off a portion of his reference library and it was purchased without the knowledge that the book was signed. Never the less, some book collectors may be appalled that the book is seemingly defaced, others would think, what wonderful serendipity and thank you for all of that ink.

OUTSIDE THE LINES

I am not sure why, but I truly enjoy the eccentrics in Japanese art. The bravado and daring to follow an eccentric vision interests me and the idiosyncratic nature of the work is a lure, a beacon while standing outside the traditional convention of the field. The only drawback to the work of the eccentrics is that their appeal is mostly limited to those who also enjoy work outside of the norm and bucking convention. Over the years I have been drawn to the likes of painters Murase Taiitsu and modern painter Sato Katsuhiko, while the pottery of Isamu Noguchi, Tsukigata Nahiko and Kumano Kuroemon has managed to get my attention. It is the uniqueness and innovation of the eccentric artists that is captivating in technique and spirit. I say uniqueness, but in reality, most of the eccentrics use traditional idioms and through dedication to their vision bend them to their own by working outside the lines of convention, creating something entirely new, bold and pivotal to their art. In the end, I see the eccentrics as the pioneers who, like an engine, drive and help propel the possibilities of their various pursuits.

Illustrated is a guinomi by eccentric and dedicated potter, Kumano Kuroemon. The guinomi is simple in form with a surface that narrates the violence of the firing in which a thick coat of melted ash coats the Shino glaze creating a surface that looks like frozen ice complete with fissures and drizzling tamadare style ash moving down the piece.    A side affect is part of the real beauty of these eccentric works, the surface has a luminescent quality to it and depending on the light source, the viewer is seduced by its unique presence and power.              

JUKO-SHINO

I am fascinated by the fact that an idea can spring up as far a field as ancient Egyptian and Mayan pyramids. Discounting alien engineers, the idependent invention of an idea is simple at its core; it simply seemed like a good idea at the time. Is the same principle possible for potters, born only a year apart and living within 100 or so square miles of each other? I honestly think so and in this case I am talking about Tsukigata Nahiko and another potter who was seemingly on the same pathway, Murata Juko (Tetsuo) (b. 1922).

Like Tsukigata, Murata’s pathway started early on in pottery. He sought out potters he could study with that would help him answer his questions about clay and the Mino tradition in particular. Early on he worked with Kato Kobei V whose heritage connected the old style Shino and Mino tradition with the burgeoning revival of the Momoyama aesthetic. From there he went on the study with 20th century legend, Kato Tokuro. From Tokuro, he would have learned the essentials of technology, firing and the many facets of Mino pottery; Shino, Oribe, Seto-Guro, Ki-Seto, to name a few. After leaving the workshop of Kato Tokuro, he finished his education with the tutelage of Kato Hajime. Whatever questions about aesthetics and technology that may have remained, he would have found answers with Kato Hajime. Hajime, designated Ningen Kokuho, was a master of form and surface. He mastered whatever he set after and was as adept in Persian blue with underglaze gold all the way to Bizen ware. I can not imagine three greater teachers to prepare one for the real world of making pottery for a living.

So, he left the realm of study and set up a pottery and built his kiln. His pathway, like Tsukigata, leads him to explore the nature of Shino and its relationship with iron, among other things. In time, using a liberal blend of iron and Shino glazes, coupled with the natural ash deposits of his wood firing, he arrived at his Juko-Shino. The Juko-Shino wares he made are classified as kiln change Shino (Gama-Yohen Shino) and in many cases; the surfaces are heavily coated with ash, in a tamadare style cascade.

Where Tsukigata and Murata differ is in the nature of their pieces and the depth of the surface. Murata’s works tend to be more on the conservative side and along the lines of proven archetypes. His surfaces also have a bit less depth than Tsukigata, partially, I believe, because Tsukigata took on glazing and firing with every ounce of his being. Murata’s glazing and subsequent firings fall on the more conservative side and possibly end up more intimate and less aggressively masculine in appearance. Throughout his career, Murata exhibited widely and was published in a wide variety of books on tea utensils and/or chawan specifically.

Illustrated is a large Juko-Shino (Gama-Yohen Shino) chawan by Murata Juko. This chawan is a wonderfully rounded piece with a thick, translucent feldspar Shino glaze coving the exterior with vivid areas of iron glaze accenting the surface. The exterior also has areas of a thin layer of natural ash glaze coating the Shino like a thin coat of glass. The interior has a thicker layer of iron with iridescence where the glaze has pooled at the bottom. All in all, it makes for a rich visual surface that coats the well conceived form and steps away from our usual concept of Shino. Potters like Murata Juko, Tsukigata Nahiko, Kumano Kuroemon and others, push our concept of Shino into a whole new realm, this chawan is no exception.

INK CIRCLE

This bold and enigmatic Zen style enso is by the “Bear of Echizen”, Kumano Kuroemon. A potter of tremendous bravado and consummate skill with fire, his equally bold and spontaneous calligraphy is just pure excitement and it adorns most of his boxes for his pottery.

I would like to think his enso is a universe enso and represents all of the cosmos. Like the famous line from William Blake’s AUGERIES OF INNOCENCE, can’t you just imagine all of the universe in a single cup? Especially a cup the size Kumano makes them!