ANOTHER SIMPLE BOWL

Illustrated are two views of a "simple" chawan by legendary Mashiko potter; Shimaoka Tatsuzo (1919-2007).  The eye is immediately drawn to the ash covered lip and drawn into the bowl to be overwhelmed by the ash flow and thick pool of glass at the bottom of the bowl. Though the bowl would seem simple in design and execution, it was masterfully created and fired, to accentuate and animate the pot. The ridge that circles the chawan at mid-point, collects the ash as it runs down from the lip creating a line of deeply colored glass formed from the natural ash inside the kiln with the ridges of the foot also collecting ash to distinctly distinguish it from the body of the bowl. It speaks to the mastery of clay and fire, that a potter could understand how the chawan would transform, once it was fired. It would seem that any idea that can be done, can be stripped to the barest of essentials and made pure in its simplicity and this chawan is just such a pot. That so simple a pot could have some much energy to share with the viewer is truly a testament to any potter.

INKBLOT II

Illustrated is another teabowl form that had a rich black slip poured over a white slip in a somewhat controlled, yet chaotic manner. The bowl was then glazed in my medieval green glaze and as it is sometimes prone to do, there surface has a tortoiseshell style appearance. I wish I could control this anomaly, but it seems to happen by pure happenstance. As with the previous Inkblot bowl, this one was thrown and then manipulated, just a bit ovoid and the foot was cut with a bamboo knife to better accompany the form and lip. This style of bowl owes its origin to older Raku archetypical forms known such as tsutsu-gata and gokezoke-gata and though hand thrown, the body of the bowl was also pinched to get to the form I was after.

"I think I think; therefore I think I am."  Ambrose Bierce (1842-1913)

CHICKEN OR EGG 鶏か卵

I have always been fascinated by form, going back to my youth watching countless hours of cartoons to the appreciation of form and function in the real world. It really doesn't matter the material; clay, metal, glass, stone, form is king. Knowing this, a friend sent me a catalogue, years ago called; FROM SILVER TO CERAMICS from the Ashmolean Museum. The basic premise is the investigation of the relationship (and origins) between ceramic and metal forms, around the globe. The idea sprung from an exhibit in which ancient Greek pottery and metalwork where examined and the questions of which came first were analyized. Some thought that the ceramic forms sprung from metal and vice versa, the penultimate example of the chicken and the egg. The catalogue takes up forms from Greece, Rome, China, Japan and Islam and is a fascinating look at form in two materials.

Illustrated is a gin-chawan, a silver chawan, beaten from a thick sheet of silver  with an applied foot ring (kodai). The slightly waisted form is accentuated by a myriad of hand hammered marks, giving the bowl a tremendous sensory appeal to the eye as well as the hand. Made in the 20th century in the style of a classical raku chawan, silver and gold, lacquer, wood and glass chawan can be seen all the way back to the early Edo Period (1600-1868). In fact, there is a 12 piece tea set created at the instruction of Tokugawa Ieyasu (the first Tokugawa Shogun) made out of pure gold and used for entertaining very high ranking individuals. What ever the case may have been in ancient Greece, it is safe to say, this silver chawan is a copy of its ceramic antecedant, so we can say with some certainty, it is the egg that comes first. I guess I have solved one of the great mysteries of the universe!

"To be absolutely certain of something, one must know everything or nothing about it."          Olin Miller

INCOMING III

Collecting anything can be a very fluid and ever changing state. Though I still have the very first chawan that we bought, there have been a variety of pieces that have come and gone, like seasons for collecting. Sometimes it has nothing to do with the quality of the pot, rather there is no connection to the piece or it just doesn't suit our direction or environment. Yesterday, I received another small collection to sell as the collector has decided to pursue a very specific pathway and the pieces no longer fit these parameters. I think this is very common among collectors as the need to collect in a specific field for a while before concluding how and what it is that they wish to focus on. There is a very natural learning period in any field and then when you actually come up with a plan, what is next, down sizing.  

This collection runs the gamut from the Edo period to present day and includes Raku-yaki, Shigaraki, Bizen, Takatori, Mino and Mashiko pottery. Illustrated is a group shot of, from left to right, a Shigaraki chawan by Takahashi Rakusai IV, a Mashiko henko by Hamada Shinsaku and a Bizen chawan by Isezaki Mitsuru.

http://www.trocadero.com/albedo3studio/catalog.html

ATTACHMENTS

As I ponder the fate of a teabowl, which I damaged and took the time to repair, I am reminded of a scene from the movie HEAT in which Robert DeNiro's character, Neil McCauley relates the Zen of his profession; "don't let yourself get attached to anything you are not willing to walk away from in 30 seconds flat (if you feel the heat around the corner)", maybe the same should apply to potters and their pots. I am not sure why, but there are always pots in a series that I have a heightened attachment to. I have had this discussion and a number of craftsman have expressed the same sentiment, though in most cases, they could not express a logical basis for the feeling. I think in some cases it is the simple recognition that a pot (or other work) is superior to others in the same group.

I have been spending some time working on "hand tooling" some teabowls, that is to say, tooling them off the wheel with the use of a sharp bamboo knife. The first attempts were just not very good and over the past several months, I have begun to get some pieces that actually looked rather promising and when glazed, fit the form and style of the bowl. I have been throwing these bowls, as tests, about once a week, off the hump, five or six at a time and recently hit on a rather "perfectly" cut foot. Now perfect is not really perfect, but rather it subscribed to the foot for that bowl that I had seen in my mind's eye. As luck would have it, as I was finishing it up, I cracked the lip and was just about to put it in the slake bucket when I decided to try something I had never attempted or even thought about in 20 years of making pots, I would try to repair it.

I carefully moistened the area and then proceeded to cut out the crack, about 2mm on either side of it and then using clay, excised from the foot, I put in a patch, which I blended in as well as possible. It only took a couple of minutes, so I didn't feel like I was throwing more time into the pot, but honestly, at this point I was curious if the patch would hold. It dried perfectly fine, without any signs of the crack and then it was bisque and glazed and fired in the next glaze firing. Now, I certainly am not saying I am going to make a habit of this, but I think it is worth finding out what the outcome will be.

For those that have stuck with this narrative and thought what a beginner's move this is, let me say that since I was going to fire the teabowl anyway to see the foot glazed and finished, in for a penny, in for a pound. In essence, it actually gives me double the feedback and when is learning something not a good thing. So I unloaded the kiln, the bowl was at the very back bottom and as it emerged, it was crack free and the foot was better than I expected. Illustrated is the bowl in question. The information that I got from the foot, will help me tweak the process in future pieces and knowing that I can actually repair a lip with a nearly 2 inch crack is info worth filing away for the next time a pot that I am attached to, takes a turn for the worse.

STILL AT IT

There is a crazy rogue element in regards to testing, the bigger the test piece gets, the more unstable it (sometimes) becomes. What I mean to say is that the initial test of 50g comes out and lets me know if it is worth persuing. The next test is 250g and is on a guinomi or yunomi style pot. 99% of the time, everything is still on track at this point. Next comes the teabowl test and here is where thing just seem to go south. I am still unsure why the intitial tests work out fine only to be undone at the larger phase. Some do make it through the teabowl phase as well, only to be undone when the pot gets even bigger. I guess as I am working alot with ash glazes or glazes with ash in them, that the more vertical, the more the glaze runs and is altered tremendously as it pulls thin.

Fast forward to last week, I am still working on this psuedo-Jun-Yao glaze and trying to get it to stay on the pot and still have the characteristics that I am after.Tweak, tinker, alter and fingers crossed, I try again after a series of small tests and three days later, out come the results.Too little of this and the glaze is too dry, too much of that and the glaze runs unchecked right off the piece. Striking the right balance of adjustments, while maintaining the qualities that I am after is all about continued testing and just not knowing when to throw in the towel.

Illustrated is a large mentori guinomi fresh out of the kiln. It maintains that lavender, foamy quality with fine streaking where thick and it has wonderful breaking qualities. Where the glaze has run thin around the lip and at the edges of the facets, the glaze is an ashy clear that compliments the rest of the surface. Next step, again, on to a teabowl or two and we can see if I have solved the myriad of problems the glaze has already presented. I will let you know.

A BIZEN KILN

For your viewing pleasure, another  short video of the unloading of a nobori-gama. With the assistence of his family, students and employees of the kiln, Yoshimoto Syuho takes stock of his recent firing after cooling down for several days. Each firing is a major investment in time, energy and the production and expense of quite a few pots. This firing seems to have been quite sucessful.

Yoshimoto Syuho (b. 1938) is truly a veteran Bizen potter and studied under legendary master, Kaneshige Toyo. Though the Kaneshige legacy is apparent in the work and firing, Yoshimoto has carved out his own unique style and perspective of Bizen-yaki.

INKBLOT

Illustrated is a saffron (yellow iron) glazed teabowl with poured black and grey areas of slip over a white slipped body. The pouring is in fact, managed by using a squeeze bulb filled with the slip, to control the flow and to try to create a spontaneous, but not totally slipped area. The slips show well under my saffron  glaze and accentuate the vertical nature of the form while the irregular decoration helps animate the bowl and like any rorschach test, the viewer can see what ever reality they want in the surface.

"Reality has no inside, outside, or middle part."

                                                                            Bodhidharma

MELLOW YELLOW

There is just something evocative and timeless about Ki-Seto pottery. I am a big fan, though like most pottery styles, there are very few who have mastered the style and tradition. The finest Ki-Seto was arguably made by Arakawa Toyozo and in his hands, many of these pots have that quintessential Momoyama aire about them. The illustrated chawan is by Hori Ichiro, who creates exceptionally fine Ki-Seto pots, following in Arakawa's footsteps, as taught by his master, Kato Kozo.The form is directly related to Arakawa and Hori's use of exceptional materials and wood firing his pottery, just adds to the mystique and presence of his pots. One of the true attributes of Ki-Seto is that when used well, unlike other, heavy glazes, it still allows the clay to speak and the ability to see through the glaze and view each mark and line adds to the conversation from pot to viewer. The effort, energy and dedication of Hori to his work, is written in each and every pot.

"The mode by which the inevitable comes to pass is effort."

                                                                                      Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1994)

FROZEN FALLS

For a number of years while living in Plattsburgh, I was involved as a docent and research assistant at the Rockwell Kent Gallery at SUNY, Plattsburgh. I was enamored with Kent's painting/prints and style as well as the adventurous life he led. Among my favorite paintings are his winter landscapes and among those, FROZEN FALLS is my favorite. The balanced vertical element of the frozen falls against the horizontal motion of the clouds just appeals to me on a number of levels. For anyone who has been around dense vertical ice flows, like the one depicted in the painting, the color of the ice is striking and etches itself into your subconscious.

Since the image is copyrighted, if you wish to see the FROZEN FALLS painting, here is a link to it;    

http://clubs.plattsburgh.edu/museum/rkpnt22a.htm

Recently, I was able to handle a striking vase form by Iga master potter, Kishimoto Kennin. What immediately struck me was the resemblance it had to the FROZEN FALLS painting by Kent. The vase, made of wonderful Iga clay, is balanced with areas of hi-iro and the face of the piece displays a running stream of bidoro in its own way, a frozen fall created by the intense fire of an anagama rather than from canvas and oils and a vivid imagination.