WAISTED

I like waisted forms, not Spicoli wasted, but pots with a defined narrowing waist. The majority of waisted forms I like are both old and new though the pots by Lucie Rie, Warren Mackenzie, Colin Pearson and the chawan of Tsujimura Shiro are all certainly among my favorites. Over the years I have made a number of waisted forms, mostly based on seeing stones piled one on top of another throughout Japan. These forms seem to harkens back to necessity and a defined purpose which interests me as functional potter. The waist acts as an invitation to the viewer and it is instinctively where the hands go when picking up the pot. The waist also adds a sense of visual tension to the form and creates an area the separates as well as connects the areas above and below. I think it is this tension that really interests me, it is also why I like pots balanced on small or precarious feet, it gets the heart racing for the myriad of possibilities.

Illustrated is a temmoku and haiyu glazed teabowl with a undulating lip, highlighted with amber tones as the glaze ran down the pot. The waist creates a sense of the form being reigned under some imaginary tension. The waist runs around the oval bowl and is finished off with a hand carved oval foot to compliment the form. Waist not, want not.

POST FIRING, FIRING

For the potter Banura Shiro, most times his work had only just started once a piece was glaze fired. After the pot was fired, he would set about adding various overglazes along with gold(kinji), silver (ginji) luster to complete his vision for the piece. Wispy tendrils, moss, autumn foliage, fauna, drifting leaves and a number of other devices decorated his surfaces animating the pots and blending the Rimpa and Nihonga traditions with his Iga sensibilities. Whatever he decided on, it came natural and his use of space on a three-dimensional form brought the piece to life.

Illustrated is a close-up of a Banura Shiro large serving bowl. The bowl is covered first in his well textured black base glaze to which he then has several additional firings to add the pewter like leaves and the gold and silver luster. It is easy to see how rapidly he laid on each and every stroke, without a moment's hesitation as if he had already seen the pot completed in his mind's eye.

ANOTHER CLASSIC; PART TWO

As you approach and study the various works of Furutani Michio, there is absolutely no denying his mastery of clay  as well as that of fire. His intuitive ability firing the anagama is legendary and he wrote a book explaining the process for the whole world to share in his love of the controlled dragon. It appears that the collision of potter, clay and fire was Furutani's destiny and his story is woven into each and every one of his pots.

Illustrated is a detail of an Iga lid from the mizusashi I posted last Monday (9/24/2012). There is a phenomenal pool of wet, luxurious green glassy ash that encircles the lid knob, as though it was perfectly planned. By studying the lid, you can see what direction the pot was facing during the firing and the protruding knob, acted as a sail, catching the fly ash, where it would drip into the lowest spot of the lid, creating this vivid pool. Serendipity? To a certain degree it was, but knowing the pots and firing methods of the potter, it is far safer to say, it was part of his bigger plan for the pots in the fire.

"Destiny is no matter of chance. It is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."  William Jennings Bryan (1860-1925)

LESSON LEARNED

It never fails, the other day while working, I ran out of most of my colors and slips and figured, heck, I'll get to it tomorrow. Well, I forgot to get to it and had no choice but to spend the morning making them up to decorate another group of pots destined for the bisque. Had I not procrastinated, I would have completed at least half again as much as I did get finished. You would think I would have learned my lesson from all the previous times that having put off a tedious chore only to screw up my schedule; this time putting off a bisque for a day. I do wonder if a lesson was learned or I will simply put off till tomorrow, what I surely should have done today.

Illustrated is a group of Abstrakt Resist and Falling Leaves pieces I finished up this afternoon after getting the colors and slip made up. Seventeen pieces finished and only a zillion more to go.

 "Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday."  Don Marquis (b.1935)

INCOMING VI

I rarely know what will show up these days and that was the case with some pieces I have just put up on my Trocadero site. Listed is a seiji fluted cyclone vase by Ono Kotaro, an Iga hanaire by master renaissance potter, Kishimoto Kennin and a very noble kannyu-seiji shinogi-zu mizusashi by celadon specialist, Minegishi Seiko. Three pieces that are classic examples by each of the potters mentioned. Illustrated is the celadon mizusashi by Minegishi Seiko, about as articulated a pot as one could find.

If you are so inclined, please take a moment and have a look;

www.trocadero.com/stores/albedo3studio/catalog/query.php

ANOTHER CLASSIC

Illustrated is another one of those pots, that is just "out of time", it is neither old nor modern. From my perspective, Furutani Michio, who made this classic Iga mizusashi, had a knack for making such pots, that defied a particular era and were just great at existing in the now. There is little else that I can say, except, what a classical beauty .

FROM PAPER TO POT

I am a huge fan of seeing the two dimensional designs of potters and then the design as articulated on a three dimensional form. The original art/design gives a glimpse into the mind and creative process of the potter as well as into the manner and techniques he employs to fit the design onto an actual form. Some potters are rigid and maintain the design exactly from paper to pot, while others prove to be very flexible and maintain the concept of the art, but not necessarily the literal nature of it. Either way, it does give you a sense of how the design came into being and how the potter see design and form. As a potter and collector, this process fascinates me and the various methods employed are ultimately what makes the pot work and the design communicate with the viewer.

Illustrated on the left, is a drawing I found on the internet of a Ron Meyers teabowl with a stylized fish design. On the right is a very similar design, fully articulated in color on a wonderful covered jar. Based on the two, it is obvious that this quickly produced fish is part of the vocabulary of designs that Meyers is very familiar with using. Both are based on an archetype, yet each has their own unique personality and impact on the viewer. Either way, Meyers has captured the vitality of his fish on pot and paper.

A MYSTERIOUS GLIMPSE

It is not like there aren't a myriad of attributes that make Shigaraki pottery  a fascinating and  endless wonder. As I look into various chawan there is another characteristic that can be seen; using light on the interior looking on the outside or on the outside looking at the interior, areas where there is lots of melted feldspar shine like stars in a night sky, a Shigaraki constellation. The see-through feldspar inclusions dot the landscape of true Shigaraki clay making for windows of translucent light to occur under the right conditions. The walls need to be just the right thickness for these apparitions to appear, a very "yugen" experience. As the bowl is fired, the coarse feldspar inclusions in the clay become molten, some boil up through the surface leaving the tell-tale characteristics of Shigaraki-yaki as tombo-no-me, other just melt in place becoming opaque gems that convey light. It is like Blake's allusion in Augeries of Innocence, except you can glimpse a ko-ucho (small universe) on the interior of a chawan.

Illustrated is a startling view from inside a Shigaraki chawan with a light source outside the wall of the bowl. It really does appear like a small and concise universe trapped inside the chawan.

"The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious. It is the fundamental emotion which stands at the cradle of true art and true science." Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

ONE OF THOSE MONDAYS

I will not regale you with the pitfalls on my particularly trying Monday; the details would most likely just  bore people. I am trying to take solace and some level of tranquility by looking through various book at the wonderfully serene designs of Kawai Kanjiro. Many of his painted and slip trailed designs are based on his interpretation of Buddhist ideas, designs and iconography, how can you not be inspired but the spontaneity and effortlessness of his hand? Problem not solved, but it seems a bit more manageable.

AND ON IT GOES

I am still in the midst of throwing and making terra cotta pots for several galleries and shows. The bulk of the work is divided into black & white slipware, carved tebori black slip and the abstrakt resist. Making a variety of forms and figuring out how to adapt designs, that go together, is one of the constant challenges any potter will face, but some of the forms my brain comes up with are a bit more difficult than others. The safer pieces are the bowls, plates and trays, the more difficult pieces are jugs, covered serving bowls, covered jars and storage pots, though adapting the 2-D to the three dimensional is good for the mind. On top of this challenge, the tebori carved pieces can be very time consuming and labor intensive depending on the idea and its intricacy, though the bulk of designs are bold and do not have a lot of detail. The biggest problem is how easy it is to get burnt out in a day of just carving pieces. It is always best, to break up the day with a variety of tasks, from throwing and trimming to even general studio chores. As much as I don't like it, there is much more to making pottery, than just sitting at the wheel, throwing.

Illustrated is a medium size terra cotta v-bowl, out of the first firing of my current extended cycle.  The bowl is brushed with black slip which is later carved away to produce an image, in this case a "celestial jig" of my Landscapeman design. Each one of these pieces is quickly mocked up with brushed ink prior to carving and I doubt I have ever done the same design twice. By its very nature, each one ends up being mostly unique and spontaneous; they are fun to design and less so to carve!

"I like work; it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours." Jerome K. Jerome (1859-1927)