WOOD & CLAY

Illustrated on the left is an austere and weathered wooden kizuchi style mallet, in its own way, it has a sculptural presence and is classical mingei. It is mallets exactly like this one that have inspired potters to turn wood in to clay over a number of centuries and this particular example makes a great test subject. The pot on the right is a rather old haiyu glazed kinuta vase by "ex-salary man" and Mashiko staple; Takauchi Shugo. Created rather early in his pottery career, probably in the mid-1970s, this piece is another simple and casually thrown pot with just the right balance of proportions, throwing marks and gesture to make for a successful form. The use of a thick and runny ash glaze creates further movement in the pot creating dark areas where the glaze has settled in to the throwing lines and the way the glaze is running down the neck creates a wonderful vertical sense to the piece as well as creating a rich pool in the depressed area of the shoulder. Though made early on, this pot shows the individuality, skill and sense of proportion of form that has set Takeuchi Shugo's pottery apart from most potters today.

"That so few now dare to be eccentric marks the chief danger of our times."  John Stuart Mill (1806-1873)

A CASUAL FORM

Perhaps my favorite potter who made mallet style vases was Arakawa Toyozo, I know it is not too great a stretch and an easy choice, but many of his pots just don't appear to have been thrown, rather conjured from his mind's eye. His ability to create pots that are the purest embodiment of the tea ethos are unrivaled in 20th century pottery. Having been fortunate enough to see several examples in person and quite a number in books and catalogues, his kinuta forms in Shino, Seto-Guro and Ki-Seto set a monumental standard for the form for his students and just about every other modern potter. From my perspective, it is one of his students that took to heart what Arakawa was trying to express through this particular form and that student was Tsukigata Nahiko. From early on in his career, Tsukigata pursued the ideal of this form, warping it and perfecting it to his own vision over time and like his master (sensei), he created forms that are casual creations that are also spontaneous and unconscious apparitions in clay. Over his more than five decades of potting, Tsukigata left a large number of kinuta forms in a wide variety of styles and each one is a distinct exercise in creating forms that follow in the footsteps of his teacher, a tradition and a pathway that he emblazoned through his unique and bold voice.

Illustrated is an Oni-Shino mallet vase by Tsukigata Nahiko from a portfolio published in the 1980's. I doubt a piece can get more classic for Oni-Shino with a wide array of effects and beautiful green ash built up around the shoulder and cascading down the body of the pot. The posture and appearance of the piece draws direct correlations to worn and weathered wood mallets used, abused and left out exposed to the elements gathering more and more character as time goes by. The contrasting angles of shoulder and mouth happen effortlessly as an extension of a potter who was both familiar and comfortable with the concept through years of studied creation of this casual form. This level of simplicity coupled with such a complex surface is the result of mastery of material, process and fire, that began, the day Tsukigata entered the workshop of Arakawa Toyozo and continued throughout his life in clay.

KINUTA

Though there is no definitive origin for the all wood mallet, it is safe to say it was being used by both the ancient Egyptians and throughout China at all roughly the same time. For ease sake and for definition, the mallet I am referring to is called a kizuchi in Japan, a wooden handle with a wooden head. As with most forms, at some point this form transitioned from the tool archetype to ceramic object. This would seem to have occurred sometime in the Sung Dynasty (1127-1279) with the kinuta* forms being popular in Northern and Southern Sung, though to best be perfected in the Longquan celadon of the Southern Sung (Zhejiang Province). The kinuta of the North Sung tend to be unadorned and pure in form and those of Southern Sung see the additions of a flared mouth and handles, though the unadorned type is seen in the south at the same time as well. Most of these pieces were glazed in the sumptuous Longquan celadon creating a rather noble and elegant statement of form and purity of surface.

Through trade with China,  kinuta vessels made their way into Japan during the Sung(1127-1279) and Yuan Dynasties (1279-1368) and beyond to Buddhist temples, wealthy warlords and tea masters (like Sen no Rikyu) from the Heian (794-1185) and Kamakura (1185-1333) periods onward. These karamono (Chinese things) became known as Kinuta from the term, "kinu-ita" a process in which cloth was pounded with a kizuchi mallet to shine and soften cloth. Though in this instance identified with the manufacture of cloth, the kizuchi was a general, all purpose wood tool, easily made and used for everything from wood-working, print-making, cloth production and a wide variety of other roles. In general, these newly imported kinuta pieces were not necessarily available for widespread study and the adoption of the form in the Japanese pottery vernacular took some time. With collections in several temples, slowly, but surely, the kinuta form began to be manufactured in Japan in another example of study, copy, adopt and create to best suit indigenous needs.

Like their Chinese counterparts, the Japanese kinuta forms tend to fall in to two categories, those with handles (additions or appendages) and those without. With time, the forms became a bit loser and casual which  reflected the wabi/sabi nature of chanoyu as well as subscribing to an antithetical reaction to the more formalized form. I am not concluding the more casual, deformed and distorted kinuta form is a reaction to the stiffer, more formalized pieces, but the looser forms find their foundations in the original karamono, while seeking to emulate the well used and weathered wood kizuchi as a possible archetype. The more casual form was well suited to a new style of pottery making that swept through the Momoyama period where the perfection of form is subjugated to the perfection of the irregular, the austere and the casual. Most modern Japanese potters seek to emulate that style and with the works of such notable potters as Arakawa Toyozo, Tsukigata Nahiko, Furutani Michio, Hori Ichiro and many others, the beauty of the irregular kinuta is alive and well.

As with most pots that are simple in appearance, the kinuta form is a bit more complex than it would appear. One of the largest challenges, when making the pot is to construct the vessel in a way that the body or base is simpatico with the neck/column of the piece. It may sound easy, but getting the proportions and complimenting angles right takes practiced and a studied eye. From a less than scientific study, the angles of the base are many times mimicked in reverse at the neck and where the form has mostly straight lines, the top and bottom will usually have similar lines as to not create a pot that is visually perceived as two pieces. As for the transition from the base to neck, it is this area that maintains the pot as a whole and keeps the pot from being merely pieces stuck on top of one another, ultimately, this is the weak point for tying the form together and again is navigated through study and practice. Some kinuta also have additions, lugs or appendages added to the neck to break up the line, this is common on seiji and seihakuji pieces which many times have molded additions as well as wood fired pots to deflect and alter the path of the fire and ash. In the end, like any good pot, it is all about trial and error but in this case, we have at least nearly eight centuries of examples to learn from and draw time tested conclusions from.

Illustrated is a kinuta style vase with pinched on lugs by Shigaraki veteran potter, Sawa Kiyotsugu (b. 1948). Made using the coil and throw style of potting, the vase has a sturdy and classic appearance with a great transition from body to neck and completed with an exceptionally seductive lip and mouth all the while pointing to the fact that he has made quite a number of mallet vases. Using primarily red pine for his wood source and firing in both noborigama and anagama, Sawa is not only an accomplished potter, but a mentor to a number of younger potters who are all now coming in to their own. This particular vase was pulled out of the red hot kiln, hikidashi style**, freezing the ash into glass over almost the entire surface of the pot with green glass running around the lip of the mouth and down the piece accentuating the vertical nature of the pot. Like his father before him and his son today, Sawa Kiyotsugu is interested in the possibilities of the clay and fire and is constantly striving to continue imbuing his creative and modern spirit in to every pot he fires.

(*kizuchi; mallet with wooden handle and head,  kanazuchi; hammer with wooden handle and iron head)

(** By following this link, you can see a short video of the hikidashi process showing Sawa Katsunori, son of Kiyotsugu, pulling pots out of the red hot kiln; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nnU9uWERpDM   )

SPOTTED, LOW & GOLD

I enjoy making these flat, low teapots with notched handles. In a way, they present the same type of surface as a shallow bowl only in reverse, so there are a number of options for decoration. In this particular case, thrown in terra cotta, I covered the surface in thin black slip and then stamped rows of dots on the surface and glazed the piece in a clear glaze. After the glaze firing, using pure gold lustre, I covered the indented base and the lid in the gold for a post-firing. The finished pot, spotted, low and gold has a simple appearance to it with a throwback to the gilded pottery from the Victorian era. Though obviously not a Haviland teapot, it certainly relies on the past to help create a contemporary piece.

GEM

Acting like a macrocosm of Oni-Shino, I am made to think of the concept of ko-uchu (miniature universe) while studying this enticing chaire by Tsukigata Nahiko. Though not necessarily a rarity Tsukigata did not leave a tremendous amount of chaire, with chawan and mizusashi outnumbering this particular form, though most of his chaire are expertly created as both functional pot and visual and contemplative treat. The pleasant and full shape of this wonderful gem like pot is enhanced by the use of iron and Shino glazes. It is completed with an accumulation of natural ash produced during the intense wood firing that has left trails of iron infused ash running down this piece. Appearing like a miniature of the myriad of tsubo that he made, this chaire has all of the broad characteristics of what Oni-Shino is all about; from the complex layers composed of rich iron, thick and diaphanous Shino and the addition of running ash, defining the form hidden beneath as canvas yet creating a piece of definition, purpose and startling authority. This chaire, like most of his work is compelling, attracting the viewer to drink in the power of the combination of clay, glaze and fire; such is the power of a good narrative at which Tsukigata Nahiko excelled.

THE JOURNEY IS THE REWARD

The Shigaraki and Iga works of Furutani Michio are among the most classic, yet subtly modern pots that I have seen. His ability to instill a timeless quality in his work, speaks to his understanding and insight in to what is the essence of old Shigaraki and Iga pottery. This is the journey that Furutani embarked on when he built his first anagama in Shigaraki valley back in the late 1960's, early 1970's. I often speak of dedication to a tradition, style and ideal, but when you survey the body of work left by Furutani Michio, it is obvious that as he worked, he worked with a keen appreciation for material and flame which over time, he became master of. Few wood fire potters of the 20th century have left such a distinct testament to a vision regarding the combining of the old and the new, his mark is measured in each and every pot he made and kiln he built and fired.

Illustrated is a weathered Iga styled lugged vase that has the spirit and appearance of antiquity. Cloaked in a fine sheen of green ash, the posture of the vase is simple with a few errant marks made to accentuate the vertical quality of the body and reign in the viewer at the neck and mouth with a fence influenced design. The lugs anchor the neck to the body and added a strength to the piece that speaks of body, shoulder, neck and mouth in a rather profound way. Looking at vases by Furutani, his pieces rarely looked fussed with, they are appropriate in design and scale and are stripped of any extraneous features, creating perennial vessels that help set a standard for modern Iga and Shigaraki pottery.

"Little do ye know own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the success is to labour."  Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)

A TRIO

As I continue to go through old images, here is another blast from the past, a trio of pouring vessels. I have enjoyed working with both vitrifying slips and engobes over the years and continue to do so right through the present while the one surface that I use the most is the ishime (stone) surface. I am constantly trying new things to see where the texture and surface works and where it doesn't on various clays, from cone 6 to 9 and in both oxidation and reduction.  More than a few years back I went through a phase of making groups of smaller pots, teapots and pouring vessels with primal, elementary incised and inlaid designs of which the illustrated trio is an example. Loosely based on found stones, the designs were incised to best articulate the small forms and to give them an ancient, archeological style presence. The bodies were first thrown and then carefully beaten to their current form, with both thrown spout and handles were applied. The decoration around the pots was incised once the clay have gotten quite firm using a sharpened bamboo knife. The surface was applied, a liner glaze used and then fired to about cone 9. Entitled, THE THREE WISEGUYS, this trio was accepted into a juried exhibition and collected by Ceramics Monthly for their permanent collection.

BALANCE

Illustrated is a classic and traditionally crafted Iga mizusashi by master potter, Kishimoto Kennin. Thrown out of a rich Shigaraki clay, the mouth, shoulder, lid and face of the pot are covered in a wonderful layer of glassy green ash as is much of the interior. The rest of the body is painted over in a wet coating of ash that has produced a rich hi-iro fire color that Kishimoto is well known for. To appreciate the Iga work of Kishimoto Kennin, one has to be enamored with a painterly balance of ash and fire color (hi-iro). If one were to look at the hi-iro on his pots as negative space , then there are correlations with the balance created in both Momoyama ink painting as well as calligraphic Zen art.  His pots are meant to show the process of creation and firing with luscious surfaces that showcase the tsuchi-aji of his work. The pots have an organic quality to them that speaks to the viewer of honest craftsmanship, rustic and time worn surfaces that harken back to a much earlier time while decidedly modern in their creation. Though as a potter, Kishimoto is indebted to the past, he uses it as a basis to develop and articulate his own voice, which can be seen in the wide variety of styles and pots he makes.

In Kishimoto's Iga work, there is a tremendous balance and harmony between clay, fire and fire color and this is what makes his works so immediately recognizable. For Kishimoto's works, in Iga or any of the other styles he has mastered, it is the nuances, the small details that turn the pedestrian in to the pioneering. The placement of indents where the pot was lifted off the wheel, the way the nearly regular lip was defined by using one deft stroke to tear the lip and the gesture created by using his rib while the pot rotated on the wheel, all  of these details defined over decades of making and experiencing pottery that become second nature, unconscious actions that define a pot and its unending conversation.

You can see more of this pot by going over to my Trocadero marketplace;

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

 

KI-SETO II

From my perspective, Ki-Seto is one of the hardest surfaces to work out just right. Many modern Ki-Seto glazes are all wet, translucent and flat and just don't do justice to what the original intent of the style was. Looking at older pieces, the drier, scorched aburage surfaces are what cloak the treasured bowls of the Momoyama and Edo periods. In modern times, potters like Arakawa Toyozo, Kato Tokuro, Kagami Shukai, Hara Kenji, Hori Ichiro and Suzuki Goro create works based on the Momoyama archetypes with surfaces that do justice to the original vision of the glazes. At times, it seems that truly great modern Ki-Seto pottery is rare and not that often seen, but there are always examples that emulate the spirit of those great old pots.

Illustrated is a Ki-seto chawan by Suzuki Goro. Suzuki, something of a renaissance potter, has mastered the skills and styles necessary to create inspired works in a wide array of styles from Ki-Seto to Shigaraki pottery. This chawan is simply thrown, with the slightest amount of looseness present creating a subtle rhythm to the pot. Decoration is fluidly incised about the piece with highlights of copper added before dipping the bowl in a thin coating of Ki-Seto. The results are both intoxicating and timeless with dry and wet areas complimenting the piece. The decoration calls to mind the sparse decoration of old Ki-Seto ware and create a lyrical, even poetic statement in total harmony with the chawan.

ANONYMITY

There is something a bit liberating, even rewarding about acquiring a pot that is shrouded in anonymity. To start with, the pot can be judged strictly for what it is. Through form, execution, decoration and the finish of the piece; the pot is only what stands in front of you. Simple or complex, the superfluous attributes of artist, value and relative importance are stripped away by something as simple as the lack of a mark or signature or the presence of its original attested box; in essence, a pot for pots sake and nothing more.

In a previous blog post, I mentioned one of my favorite pots is a pierced Oribe cylinder candlestick with a forged iron nail attached inside the bottom on to which a candle is stuck. The piercing is a repeated circle, square, triangle design and the pot came to me and the seller as an anonymous pot. The candlestick, not large in scale or in any way intent on altering the field of ceramics, is one of the most honest, purposeful and enjoyable  pots that I own. I am not saying its anonymity is necessarily responsible for how I perceive it, but it is the unknown nature of the origins of the piece that leads to endless conversations and continuous conjecture. In an odd way, this adds to my enjoyment of the piece and it is exactly the constant conjecture that keeps the piece fresh.

Illustrated is a chawan who's identification has eluded me up until this point in time. Thrown out of a reddish-brown clay and quickly faceted, once leather hard, the piece was dipped in a thin white slip. Later glazed in a slightly aqua toned ash clear glaze there are thick green drips which defy gravity about the lip. Once fired the teabowl was enameled in red and green. The kodai is crisply cut and a square seal is present within, though covered over in white slip. This piece has remained anonymous and the enameling could lead one to think Okinawan in origin, I have my suspicions which lead me to one of several Mashiko potters. Who knows, I may stumble on to a similar piece and figure out who made this or someone else may recognize the piece and clue me in. However it plays out, it is a nice bowl in hand and the anonymity just keeps the bowl that much more intriguing.