MONDAY BLUES V

It is very cold here, minus 11 degrees f. when I got up, overcast and generally not the best Monday to start a week. Pots usually help and act as a natural mood elevator, so what could be better than Persian blue. Illustrated is a finely thrown Turoku-ao guinomi by Kato Kato. The decoration shows tones of blue from the cobalt used to make the black underglaze under the rich alkaline based Persian blue glaze. Kato Kenji was a master at Turoku-ao and his fluid and spontaneous brushwork is just wonderfully expressive and matches and articulates the form like few others. 

SNOWDAY

It is a snowy day in central New York and as I look out on the snow covered treeline and hills into the valley, I am reminded of one of our early trips to Japan. It was late November and on this particular day, we were out to see the Kinkakuji and Kiyomizu-dera. As we walked up the streets to the  Kiyomizu -dera, it began to snow. Not heavy snowfall, but a lyrical, fluffy snow that sort of hung in the air. Once at the temple and on the large wooden deck, you could see the snow falling all about Kyoto and cover the scenery in a fine white blanket. There really is little to compare to seeing the Kiyomizu -dera and Kyoto blanketed by snow with snow swirling around the great observation deck as you peer off into the valley. I love Kyoto in the winter time. I know this has little to do with pottery, but it reminds me of wandering the streets of the Kiyomizu  pottery district and seeing pots and potters at work. It is worth the visit. It stands as one of the truly memorable moments from out treks to Japan.

Illustrated is a 20th century print of the Kiyomizu-dera amidst falling snow. This print is by Tokuriki Tomikichiro(1902-2000) who not only created the artwork but founded a publishing company that published his and other print artists' prints. Tokuriki served as a link between the Shin-Hanga and Sosaku-hanga movements and his imagery primarily focused on  the myriad of Kyoto scenery. Tokuriki is also know as the man who taught Clifton Karhu (1927-2007).

WHAT ARE THE ODDS?

Your average potter, full time potter, in general, makes a lot of pots over their lifetime. Even those who leave us too soon, can leave a large number of pots behind, maybe thousands or more.

I realize that pictures of various pots show up in exhibition catalogue, catalogues of particular potters, for museum shows and books, but still, the chances of seeing  a particular pot in print, is very slim. Really, what are the odds?

Enter an interested party, a person who is following my blog, he spies a pot and curiously asks if it is the same one as in the picture he sends me. Low and behold it is. The picture is of the Tokoname potter, Osako Mikio seated in front of three of his tsubo he has fired and is preparing for an exhibition. The photo dates to 1982/83 and at the far right is the tsubo I had posted on my blog a while back. Besides the long odds of a pot popping up in a book, the fascinating aspect is it really gives a sense of the volume of the pot. Dimensions alone rarely convey the full impact of a pots volume, but a picture of the pot in this context, certainly does (and as the say, is worth a thousand words).

Here is a link to the Osako Mikio Tokoname tsubo;

http://albedo3studio.blogspot.com/2011/12/flare-for-dramatic.html

FORGED TO SHAPE

A number of my friends are bladesmiths, knifemakers in the vernacular. Among knifemakers in general, there are two types, those that make blades by stock removal from premade "bars" of various metals, the other group takes metal and forges the blade to shape, including damascus and pattern welded steel. There are two schools of thought regarding these approaches, but I personally prefer the forged to shape method, though not being totally prejudiced against stock removal. The reason I bring this up is recently I saw several videos in which a potter throwing porcelain, makes a wide variety of pots and then proceeds to tool of what I can only estimate is between 30 and 40% of the weight/thickness of each pot.

Being a product of three Leach pupils, I was taught to throw a pot to the best approximation of the form, including all of my pots and lids. I try to trim/tool off as little as possible, keeping the form as intact from "off the wheel" as I can. I know this is a personal bias, but the concept of trimming away almost half of your pot or lid, just seems alien to me. I do understand porcelain is a bit tricky to throw and the more wall thickness the more support there is while throwing, but I just see it as the least economical of time and energy route. I know at the end of the day, the final product is really all that matters, but where possible, I will just continue to forge to shape.

Illustrated is a lugged vase form from the same firing as the jug from last week. It was thrown to  shape with a minimal of clay tooled off and from the foot. It is decorated in my temmoku and medieval green glazes and like the jug, either side of the belly has been dipped to create a simple spot design.

AKA-TSUBO

A bold and brisque interpratation of the kanji for "tsubo" (pot) by Koie Ryoji (b. 1938). Koie, well know for his spontaneous creativity in clay, carries that another step further in the use of red ink to paint the ubiquitous tsubo character used by a wide array of modern potters. The best known, perhaps being Kato Tokuro, whose calligraphy for tsubo, this work be Koie is very reminescent of.  Koie, like a few other modern potters, like Tsujimura Shiro, Kumano Kuroemon and Suzuki Goro, has inked a fair number of calligraphies, most being very much related to his work in clay in spirit and affect.

A SIMPLE LINE

I have always been amazed how a simple line, mark, cut or throwing gesture can alter the entire perspective of a pot. With or without these additions, a pot can either sink or swim and in some cases, it is the casualness of a line that elevates a pot to greatness. The issue with any of these additions to a pot is that they need to be natural and not fussed over and certainly not seemed contrived or superfluous. I can think of a great many potters who have proven track records for their additions to a pot, but potters like Hamada Shoji and Kawai Kanjiro are certainly at the top of the list.

Sometimes it is not the addition of a mark or a line that articulates a pot, sometimes it is what is removed. Illustrated is a close up of a take-zu, bamboo form hanaire by Shigaraki & Iga master, Furutani Michio. Working with a conventional archetype, Furutani ever so casually and skillfully removed a "window" from the form. The cuts are fast and casual, the opening neither precise nor sloppy. With four delft strokes, he altered the pot and created a negative space that allows shadow and depth to provoke the eye to seeing into the soul of the pot. In the firing, the pot sags just a bit where there is no area to support the lip and collar above, further accentuating the gesture of the space and pot. The frozen drops of bidoro off the top cut, just adds to the drama and tension created by the form and firing. It is simply amazing, that so little can end up saying so much.

"The whole is simpler than the sum of the parts."    Willard Gibbs (1839-1903)

(Used with the kind permission of a collector)

SPOTTED

I have seen more than my fair share of fantasy and medieval genre movies over the years and one aspect I am constantly well aware of is the pottery used in these films. It is easy to take enjoyment from the wide variety of pots on screen, including some that actually have had labels on the bottom of them which the "continuity" directors, obviously missed. Essential to all these movies is the array of jugs and pitchers used in the obligitory tavern scenes, some are actually quite adept at capturing the feel of the medieval jug or pitcher while others, not so much. One type of jug that pops up in most of these films is the spoutless type that has a big round belly and a round pulled handle. I find a rustic satisfaction in this type of jug and have made them on and off for nearly my entire time making pots. There is something very timeless about these pots and extremely functional as well.

Illustrated is a medium sized spoutless jug form with a thick, round pulled handle. It is glazed in a temmoku glaze and the neck and extremes of the belly on either side, are accented with my medieval green. One of the things I really enjoy about this form is that it usually works from 6" to 16" as long as you keep the proportions the same. Though intended as a jug, it also has the luxury of acting as a vase or for utensil storage without the worries of damaging the spout. Just another form that is rather good at multi-tasking.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

I just wanted to take a moment and wish everyone, in each and every time zone, a very Happy New Year.

Illustrated is the aftermath of some spirited pottery debauchery in which the Hagi chawan by Miwa Kyuwa XI was neither stained nor damaged. This photo was staged by a trained professional and I do not recommend you try this at home.

(Photo courtesy of a deranged and somewhat eccentric, private collector.)

SETTLED IN

Illustrated is a  Bizen mizusashi by veteran Bizen potter, Masamune Satoru (d. 2006). The surface is a diaphanous blend of hi-iro and flashed ash deposited on the pot with areas of shadowed resist creating halo like effects. This is another one of those pots who's charm derives from the posture and baring of the piece, it gives one the sense that it is all settled in and just ready to be used. Though high fired, this mizusashi gives the impression that it has a softness to the piece, a product of the rolling curves created when the pot was first thrown and then subjected to the  scrutiny of  the fire.

LAST KILN FOR 2011

I fired off what will most likely be the last firing of 2011, last week. I can't really complain about the results, 99% of the pots came out meeting my expectations or better. The few last minute orders were packed and shipped out, with most arriving in time for the holidays. The kiln had a wide variety of pieces from serving bowls and plates, covered jars, vases and the ever present teabowls and yunomi. 

Illustrated is a  teabowl that has been hanging around for several months. It has white slip with vertical bands of grey and black slip over and I finally decided to glaze it up in the my clear and saffron glazes. I was pleasantly surprised with the results as the glazes created areas of grey-green and blue-black under the saffron surface. The second illustration is of a partridge feather and saffron glazed yunomi with a rather runny surface and the two varying glazes contrast well together. Neither of these where planned out, both just sort of happened as I was rushing to get pots glazed. Sometimes it is the "no-thought" approach that yeilds something new and worth

pursuing.

"The truth of a thing is the feel of it, not the think of it." Stanley Kubrick (1928-1999)