Glowing moon hangs in the mist,
Watching over silent clay"
Shigaraki kogo by Furutani Michio, photo and nonsense by
the lone potter at Albedo 3 Studio with a bit too much time on his hands.
A Rambling Blog About A Potter And Pots
Glowing moon hangs in the mist,
Watching over silent clay"
Shigaraki kogo by Furutani Michio, photo and nonsense by
the lone potter at Albedo 3 Studio with a bit too much time on his hands.
The defining characteristic that completes this pot is the rich, deep Ao-Oribe (Green Oribe) glaze, where the alchemy of surface and spirit of the form combine and add to an aesthetic that dates back to the Momoyama period (1573–1615). Katsumasa’s decisive use of glaze is certainly unapologetically bold speaking to years of experience and many pots made. By determining the exact thickness, he has achieved a deep, vitrified emerald that pools in the recesses of the "nodes," creating a high-contrast interplay of light and shadow. Unlike the more restrained, translucent Oribe glazes, the glaze is thick and textured, often allowed to break over the sharp edges of the form to reveal the toasted, iron-rich stoneware body beneath. This interaction between the vibrant glaze and the textured and animated clay creates an organic appearance and movements for which Oribe is highly celebrated.
Kato Katsumasa makes pottery within a legacy of over four centuries old Oribe tradition not as a static piece merely for visual admiration, but as a living language meant for use. Within this modern Oribe landscape, this take-gata hanaire presents itself as a bridge between the avant-garde "deformations" embraced by the early tea masters like Furuta Oribe, and the careful consideration of contemporary craft. It eschews the delicate, painted motifs of painted Oribe in favor of raw, sculptural power as it is a work that commands its space, reflecting a philosophy where the potter’s labor is value and visible in intentional marks and in every copper-green pool. It is more than likely that Kato Katsumasa does not seek to simply imitate the past; he strives to harness its intensity, ensuring that the Oribe legacy remains as sharp and vital as fresh cut of bamboo.
"A pot has to have a certain kind of 'internal pressure' if it is going to have any life at all. It must look as if it were being blown out from the inside." Michael Cardew
Illustrated or rather depicted in my mind’s museum is this classic, colorful and playful Nishiki-sarasa mizusashi by Shinkai Kanzan. This mizusashi was chosen because of this clever and complex surface which was an oft repeated technique used to both decorate and articulate his mostly simple forms. Using some version of a resist, which I have always assumed was cut paper, a profound pattern is created which once glazed and fired adds layers of depth and movement to the pottery in question. Using a buff stoneware clay, typical of many Kyoto potters, a thick white slip is applied onto the surface and then the paper resist is removed exposing the fullness of the pattern only to be glazed, in this case using a clear glaze where carefully and selectively applied oxide washes are employed and during the firing where thickness of surface and temperature add a degree of serendipity to experience to run and bring the pot to the fullness of its expression.
I suspect there will be opinions out there that consider this a rather ‘dated” piece and ironically, I agree; modern in its day, it blends the Kyoto aesthetic with Art Nouveau and T’ang elements and characteristics which were percolating around during the 1970s making this a classic and even defining pot of the period. This blend, even dated, reminds me of Basho’s poem where even while in Kyoto, he longs for Kyoto, this is the state this pot brings me to as the encounter was a decade or so ago. I think that if I was being totally honest, when I think of Kyoto potters or Shinkai Kanzan specifically, this multi-colored and patterned mizusashi always spring to mind and with just a tiny amount of help from AI, I am able to see it almost exactly how I envision this pot in my mind. Isn’t technology great?
(*This picture contains an actual image of a pot or pots in an AI generated background or scenario)
"And the end of all our exploring, Will be to arrive where we started, And know the place for the first time." T.S. Elliot
The very form and surface of this koro is defined by well-conceived undulating surface of curvilinear fluting that converges, narrowing, constricting toward the base and the rim, creating a dynamic sense of tension, compression and expansion both real and perceived. These carved grooves serve a dual purpose: they provide a structural, neo-Gothic (?) architecture for the eye to follow and act as channels for the wood ash to pool and break during the intensity of the firing.
The glaze is an applied ash to add life to the pot without hiding away the carved details, while the piece was gently fired in some sheltered spot in the wood kiln which was likely immersed in long hours of a pine-fueled fire. The applied ash works well across the surface, creating highlights and an almost sesame seed style surface which adds some depth and movement to the already animated form. The contrast between the toasted, iron-rich clay body and the ash, finalized by the flames finally steps in to complete the work the potter initiated when there was nothing but a ball of clay at the wheel.
The lid is particularly noteworthy for its openwork (sukashi) design. The four-petaled floral motif is not merely decorative; it is a functional aperture through which the incense smoke would traditionally rise, trailing like mountain mist. The carving here is confident, mirroring the deep fluting of the body and ensuring the vessel maintains a cohesive visual weight from base to knob and as was intended, the lid works together with the carved form, as both compliment and the completed element. Though small, from its design to its creation, Gerd Knapper completed this in his mind’s eye before he even wedged the clay.
I have been going through old files and decided to put up this slideshow video of a Shigaraki tsubo by Ogawa Seiho. This, in motion, well, sort of in motion shows off some details of this traditional Shigaraki tsubo and fills in some of the blanks that are certainly missed on a single static image. Hope this helps a bit.
The form of this particular guinomi is architectural yet intimate; it features a bold structure, where the clay has been shaped in decisive yet simple geometric strokes. This physical movement built into the pot does not merely create a shape; it creates a landscape for the hand and eye to navigate. The rim, slightly undulating and rhythmic, offers a tactile invitation that engages a user to accommodate themselves to its use. As for the kodai, the foot, its modelling is both creative and well-conceived for stability and the tactile encounter suggesting the diminutive vessel sprung from the earth rather than having been sculpted to its conclusion.
Examining the surface, the piece is a is a balance of simplicity and elegance where the kiln’s atmosphere of heat, sodium and a hint of reduction paint the form. The kohiki slip provides a creamy, parchment-like canvas, but it is the enyu process—the introduction of salt into the kiln at peak temperature, has brought a soul to the surface. This technique produces a subtle mesmerizing blush and minute texture to the surface encapsulating the clay. This warm, toasted pinkish bloom, surrounds the curves and lines of the guinomi like a slow-moving sunrise, a simple, poetic landscape. The contrast between these soft, peachy blushes and the occasional dark, crackled texture and the gohonde spots creates a visual depth that rewards long contemplation despite its simple nature. It is a vessel that does not demand attention through volume, but rather earns it through the quiet elegance of its complexion and the confident strength of its bones. Though this is just a quiet guinomi, it is in its appreciation and use that whispers of simplicity and the transitory expression of mono(no)awase fill the cups void to the lip.