GBNF

I owned this salt fired flattened flask pot a long while back, simply gone but not forgotten. I had acquired it from an Atlanta gallery that carried Michael Simon's work back in the mid-90s. I did however have a dear friend who coveted this pot and as he was always quick to remind me, I had others, in a moment of generosity, it found a new home. I had enjoyed the pot with its strong posture, wonky, off kilter neck and defining lugs, but I was especially fond of the spiral, a device/design that I am quick to use and quicker to admire. As time moved on the pot went off to yet a new home, where I do not know which got me wondering, where are all the pots that have come through my hands? Last year, I reacquired a pot from Japan that I had acquired at a flea market in Massachusetts, traded to an Indiana collector who in turn sold it on eBay, I was the under bidder. Where it went from there and how it got to Japan is a mystery but what I am sure of is that there is no way to predict the trajectory once pots leave and even less as to where they will end up. In the end we all act as temporary curators, just ask the ancient Greeks or feudal era chajin.

SPOT

I made a short slideshow showcasing a nice, salt fired Persian box by Michael Simon, student of Warren Mackenzie. Michael is a master of the thrown and altered genre and his ability to manipulate clay in a natural and simple way is almost unparalleled in modern pottery. There are a number of subtle details to discover in Simon's boxes that are easily missed if the pot is not handled and I thought a slideshow of all the details would be a better insight into his box forms that a single picture in a book. I hope this helps.

"If I have made any valuable discoveries, it is owing more to patient attention, than to any other talent."   Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727)

MARKS II

I am fascinated by the infinite variety of marks that potters make in and on clay. A simple mark, an incised gesture can move a pot from dull to exciting in the instant it takes to be made. As I have mentioned, making marks can take a lifetime or a repetitive dedication to create, just think of Hamada's characteristic sugar cane motif or the brisk marks of Michael Simon. For a mark to work, it has to be well conceived, deftly executed and more than anything, compliment the pot. It would seem the practiced spontaneity is at the heart of good mark making and experience and practice, the basis for successful execution.

The reason this came to mind again is that I recently encountered a wonderful wood fired pot covered in ash, strong form, great clay, well fired with a mark made round the top of the pot that just seems to lack any purpose of conviction. Is a poor mark like a so-so kodai on an otherwise nice chawan? Does the mark alone diminish the quality of the pot? I have spent a lot of time looking at the pot which has descended in to a love/hate relationship, I love the pot but the mark is so much a distraction that it dooms the pot to my eye. It is funny how a simple mark, made by an experienced potter which is meant to be innocuous ends up being the exact opposite, the focal point of the pot. I know as a potter, I struggle with making marks that are meaningful and appropriate, but it amazes me that you can do almost everything right and get only one thing wrong and the pot fails. It is rather inescapable that the devil really is in the details and for a potter, you need to get all the details right, each and every time. Certainly sounds simple enough.

Illustrated is a close up of a Persian box by Michael Simon. The design of two fish is the model of simplicity, all superfluous detail has been removed and in economy and fluid dexterity, he has rendered a design that he had familiarity with through his experience of repetition. Though simple in line, mark and detail, the essence of the fish comes through and animates the surface of the box. His ability to create such spirited marks speaks to his intuitive and purposeful sense of creation; there are few modern potters who can say so much with so little.

LIGHTLY SALTED

"The source of my work is found in the role that pots perform within the household." Michael Simon from the book; EVOLUTION

Illustrated is a small and animated covered box by Michael Simon. This pot was wood fired and lightly salted, accentuating  the form and the spiraling decoration painted on the piece in his trademark black pigment. At first glance, the question of use arises, what place would this pot play in a home and then, as if struck by a bat, the mind reels at the possibilities. Through the millennia vessels of containment have paved the way for our futures; safeguarding food, seeds, medicines and a variety of essentials necessary for both short and long term existence. This small covered pot is a link in a timeline of such vessels and as such, stands out of time and can be viewed in the same manner in another hundred years. As with many simple pots, it is amazing the bridge they construct between past and present and lidded vessels made from country to country and culture to culture over vast expanses of time.

EVOLUTION

In these days of e-books, kindles and closing book stores, a real book in the hand is still a wonderful thing, and MICHAEL SIMON: EVOLUTION is a wonderful book. With a forward by Warren MacKenzie and commentary regarding the pottery by Michael, this is an insightful and well illustrated narrative about a potter’s life in pots and the decisions made along a lifetime. From his thrown and altered “Persian boxes” to his utilitarian pitchers, bowls, plates and vases, the glimpse into the evolution of a potter is related.

One of Michael Simon’s comments about Warren MacKenzie is vivid and I think many potters can relate to; “I still hear him [Warren] in my brain, and I still think about him whenever I have to make a decision. He is my touchstone, he is the figure that I think through. He was very important to me. I didn’t know it at the time; really I wasn’t conscious at the time of Warren’s value.” It is this personal observation and thought that most potters and craftsman can understand but Simon’s articulation is simple and to the point. The commentary and observations made by him reflect his pursuit of the personal and this alone makes this a book well worth owning. I recommend this book without any reservations for potters, collectors and those interested in the evolution of a personal process.

Illustrated along with the book, MICHAEL SIMON: EVOLUTION; is a small salt fired Persian box form by Simon. It was thrown and altered in such a formulaic method that only he could have achieved. It was decorated and the kiln did the rest. On the lid of the pot are three spots where wads were placed around the decorated “spot” which adds to the surface and gives one a perspective of how the pot was fired and how it stood as a pedestal for another, smaller pot. In my mind, this is a metaphor, as Simon’s pots will stand as a pedestal for generations to come.

“The merit of originality is not novelty, it is sincerity.” Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)

THE CONTAINMENT OF THE EVERYDAY

What is it about lidded pieces that are so fascinating? Is it the myriad of forms, types of lids or approaches to decoration? Is it the mystery of what they contain, past, present or future? I find the possibility of not knowing the contents to be part of my love for lidded vessels, in the appreciation of them and the making.

A few years back, I read an article that got me thinking about “the handmade” in relationship to pottery in general. Since as a vessel, the lidded form has provided mankind a myriad of uses from protecting seeds/grain, food, herbs and medicines and a wide variety of ritualistic practices; it was (and still is) an essential part of human existence. I have thought that it can connect us in a modern age to what it means to be human and our vast history and experiences. Objects that are based on the handmade nourish our being and environment. The lidded form, from my perspective is essential for the containment of the everyday.

Illustrated is a large thrown and altered covered box form by Michael Simon. This piece was glazed first and then fired in a wood kiln that had salt introduced to the firing. The fit of the lid is exceptional and there is just enough throwing marks left on the inside and out to show how this piece started out. I do wonder what it holds presently and what it will hold in the years to come.

(Used with permission from a private collection of American and British pottery.)

MARKS

Shoji Hamada was arguably one of the best mark makers in pottery of the last century. His repeated use of the sugarcane motif was casual, engaging and very prominently articulated his pottery. There are a number of good mark makers today; Tom Coleman, Michael Simon and Ron Meyers spring to mind.

Like many potters, though I understand the importance of the mark (and line) on clay and as a decoration, it takes years to develop a vocabulary of marks that work well and are responded to. Good marks add value to a pot and help establish it’s form and gesture.

I use a variety of marks, some from cartoons, historical examples and some just happened on for my pottery. I try to match the right marks with the right surfaces and pots and am always looking to improve with the help of critical analysis of collectors, potters and critics. As Soetsu Yanagi points out; “unless a thing attracts the mind it is not a thing; unless the mind gives life to a thing it is not as yet complete”. Good marks engage the mind, completing a process started by the potter and help bring the pot to fruition.