BLUE MONDAY XII

Illustrated is a simple and seductive little pot, a "feelie", by Rose Cabat (b. 1914). Currently the oldest active potter in the US, Rose Cabat is famous for the simple and puffed up small forms and her electric palette of exotic vellum glazes. This feelie, like so many, seems inflated and overflowing with dynamic tension, cloaked in an electric turquoise glaze with streaks of amber tones about the surface, the form concluding with a tiny neck and opening crowned in muted gray-black which matches the base of the pot and ties the package neatly together. In person and in the photo, this small pot reminds me of what Earth looks like from above which fits rather nicely as any good pot is its own small and wondrous universe. This pot was a gift to my wife and I from a very good friend and though it is good to have nice pots, it is even better to have great friends.

THROWN GREEN

Illustrated is a close up of a pair of long Oribe plates. I really like the effect where the glaze has run and pooled into the grooved recesses of the pieces. I have recently, well the past six months or so, been making these pseudo-sushi sets of plates with guinomi and tokkuri and this is the latest set measuring in at about 12" long and about 5" wide. Like previous slab plates, these were first thrown and after firming up a while, they were cut into sections and laid out to form slightly curved plates. The ends and sides are higher than the center making for a plate that holds both food and whatever sauce one may decide to use as a garnish. The Oribe glaze used on these pieces is one of my latest ones, sans lepidolite but using copper, iron and a touch of washed wood ash. These plates are glazed over their entirety and fired on wads which are later ground of leaving what I find to be, interesting and tell-tale signs as to how they were fired. I guess this is my attempt to make the bottoms as interesting as the top and at the very least, it adds both to the eye and the hand in the handling.

CULMINATION

At first glance this small ko-tsubo or uzukumaru form may come from the waning days of Meiji period, the 1920s perhaps or the 50s, 70's or present day, but to those familiar with the work, this classical jar is the epitome of the 1950's, crafted in the hands of Kitaoji Rosanjin (1883-1959). Owing its creation to the prototypical ko-tsubo of centuries before and deeply rooted in the Momoyama era, this jar gives hints to its age in some sense defining the period of pottery making in Japan just post-war until the 1960s. Though Rosanjin was obviously inspired by earlier Oribe works, this playful pot, is all about the 20th century, filled with all of the earmarks that point to more modern times. Loosely based on the uzukumaru form best known among Shigaraki wares, this form foregoes some of the absolute classical utility to exist as much as an object of beauty as it does a functional piece. Though Rosanjin's pottery is based in utility, he was as equally involved in the aesthetics and for him, that was best fulfilled when the pot was in use. This may seem to be a contradiction in his investment in the beauty of the object, but the designed completion of what he made was when it was covered or filled with food or in use for a flower arrangement or a sparse branch. In utility, comes the culmination of the form.

Despite what one may have heard or read about Rosanjin, there is no conceit or ego in this pot, rather it portrays a spring like exuberance and playfulness associated with the Oribe of old. From the rich, thick band of deep green glaze at the mouth, to the wispy cross hatched grasses swaying in a cool spring breeze, the pot is brought to life filled with emotion and expectation. I find that works like this, has a rather lyrical, even poetic side to them, a fine balance between what is seen and what is felt. The pot has a certain nobility to its character that is balanced by the nature of the decoration, though not a large pot, as with most Rosanjin works, it has more than enough energy and conversation to last a lifetime. I would think this is exactly what Furuta Shigenari (Oribe) would have had in mind.

"All pottery is a copy. The only question is what the copy is aiming for; what element of the original it is seeking to emulate."  Kitaoji Rosanjin

HINDSIGHT

I doubt an average day goes by where you don't think, in hindsight, I should have zigged when I zagged or had a salad instead of that funky gyro from a street vendor. I think this is a common affectation that is hard wired into all of our conscious and unconscious thoughts. As a potter I can think about how on all too frequent an occasion, as a pot comes out of the bisque or glaze I think, I should have done this or that, tried this mark, this glaze combo, etc. In essence, it is easy to correct a pot in hindsight or at the very least, make it just a bit better and that is what the learning process is all about. There are very few pots that you can't find some minor fault with, but there are also those pots that try as you may, they seem to exist without any fault and there is no reasonable way to improve upon them, those pots are the rare ones.

Illustrated is a chawan that would be hard to improve upon. The proportions are classic and very strong, the foot is just broad enough without being too wide or tall, the lip  has an inviting curve to it that makes it easy to drink from and the surface is rich with a fine cross hatched fence pattern which articulates the form. Though by no means a wild bowl, there is subtle gesture which adds to the charm and nobility of the bowl and when it is all added up, the tally indicates  that this chawan would be hard to critique or find fault with. I would expect this type of chawan to come from the studied hand (and mind) of Kitaoji Rosanjin (1883-1959). His Shino works from the last decade of his life, show a combination of both a purely functional aesthetic together with a sense of the modern art movement of the 1950s. Even in hindsight, I think that what was good the day it was made, glazed and fired, is just as equally good today.

(Used with the kind permission of a private collector.)

SEIJAKU

Seijaku is a term/word used in Japanese aesthetics that is part and parcel of the Wabi/Sabi philosophy. In its most fundamental sense, seijaku means "tranquility" or "serenity" and in terms of objects, it is about defining a moment outside of the everyday and being able to contemplate the now in its presence. The illustrated chaire is all about seijaku in my opinion, in viewing the pot, it is possible to escape the modern clutter and focus on the beauty and tranquility of the piece. At first glance the strong and rugged form has a common beauty to it with the ash running down its face mimicking some distant waterfall with the constricted neck/mouth completed with the pure white lid. Despite the almost rustic charm of the piece, there is a certain degree of grace and subtlety that mask the deep complexity of this Iga chaire. Accompanying the chaire are two unsophisticated but noble shifuku made by the potter's wife to go with the piece which is also double boxed. This wonderful Iga chaire was made by the late Shigaraki/Iga potter, Furutani Michio sometime in the mid 1990s. Though small in stature, there is nothing small about this pot and it speaks volumes about the mastery of clay and fire that Furutani Michio had achieved while creating a focal point for the study of Iga-yaki, far into the future.

"Look for knowledge not in books but in things themselves."  William Gilbert

FOUR SEASONS

I have been as interested in calligraphy as long as I can remember, even further back than pottery. My first real piece of Japanese calligraphy was done by a famous Shotokan karate master back in 1977 while I was in high school. Over the years I have seen a lot of calligraphy and thanks to a number of exhibitions, a number of which were arranged by Steven Addiss, I have seen some great pieces from the 15th century to modern day. It was only fitting that on occasion I would try to do calligraphy on both pottery and paper, which I do every now and again for my own amusement.  Along the way, I have sold pieces to some interior designers, a few martial arts dojo and to some collectors to go along with my pots, but, in the end, I do this strictly for fun.

Illustrated is a piece that was inspired by the music of Vivaldi, specifically, The Four Seasons. I know to most it will be hard to make that leap, but in my mind, that is exactly where it came from. The four characters for spring, summer, fall and winter are all brushed atop two large strokes of gold wash. Though the image appears slightly askew, the image is perfectly centered in the rectangular sheet of paper.

GOSU BLUE MONDAY

Over the years I have been rather adamant about not really liking blue, but the evidence is all to the contrary. Not to sound like a Forest Gump character, but I do like Persian blue, Ao blue, Tokuda Yasokichi III blue and Gosu blue as well. The illustrated pot is an uncommon molded covered pot by Kawai Kanjiro. Once out of the mold, the pot had very thick white slip applied in a simple yet very expressive pattern. Because the slip is so thick, there are drying cracks about the surface of the slip that in no way detract from the piece and in many respects it adds a bit more character to the surface. Out of the bisque the pot was dipped in a gosu wash with a clear glaze over the whole pot. From my perspective there is no finer gosu than that of Kawai Kanjiro and his blue is a blue just about everyone is bound to enjoy, despite whatever their favorite color or glaze may be.

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.

MOTIVATION

With the continued rain and humidity in the valley, pottery making is tenuous at best. Nothing dries, it takes forever for pots to firm up to tool, in other words, the mood is not very festive. As I have mentioned before, music is a great motivator and since Van Halen is not always good for what ails you, I have been listening to  the classical styling's of John Williams, no the other John Williams, the famous guitarist.  A particular favorite of mine is Vivaldi's concerto for lute in D major; have a listen and tell me that it doesn't give you that certain pick up one needs when the weather is dreary and the going is slow.

NUMBER 3046

It seems simple enough, you take a bowl and a somewhat sharp pieces of bamboo or other wood and hand tool a teabowl, but in reality the process is actually one of muscle memory formulas and aesthetic choices honed through years of experience. I have been rather fortunate to have watched several dozen Japanese potters hand tool their chawan and though the fundamentals are about the same, the approach and results can differ drastically. Some potters are after creating crisp, clean kodai while others are looking for a casual and asymmetrical foot to compliment the overall form of the piece. Timing is another sometimes overlooked factor, some prefer the clay rather stiff and others cut the foot while the clay is still quite wet and the process is completed with the smoothing of rough areas with a hera, the fingers and the palms of the hand. Having tried to work this way, I can attest that it really is much more difficult than it looks and maybe after thousands of pieces, the process and the formulas make more sense and are easier to reproduce, maybe number 3046 will be the charm.

Illustrated is Kohyama Yasuhisa working on one of his Shigaraki chawan. The outside diameter of the kodai has been established and he is beginning to remove clay to form the interior of the footring. Though the body of the chawan is close to leather-hard, the foot is still soft and supple enough to cut and form with tool and hand. In the end, the foot is a practical one that suits the form of the bowl well and gives a good sense of lift to the pot; simple, effective and very well practiced.