AN ALCHEMIST'S FORMULA

The other day I ended up using a Shigaraki chawan hidden in shadows and highlighted by sunlight for a Season's greeting photo and thought best to show the piece in a more formal portrait. This haikaburi style Shigaraki chawan was made by Kohyama Yasuhisa when back when in Showa 48 (1973) and is illustrated in an exhibition catalogue from that year and in person or illustration has that timeless appearance. Though a rather early chawan by Kohyama, overall he has maintained a rather recognizable style from form, lip and kodai and because of that this the classic fore-runner of chawan made decades later. As for the surface created by one of the earliest anagama in The Valley since the 18th century, there are three distinct panels from crusty, dark ash to thin glass to rich fire color punctuated by small ishihaze, stones and feldspar popping out here and there. Added all together, the features like an alchemist's formula come together to create a bowl that sits rather nicely in the hand or on display and offers all of the tidbits that contemporary Shigaraki pottery is well known for. 

 

GOING BACK TO MOVE FORWARD

Every now and again I find myself going back to move forward, not exactly to the drawing board but rather to a way and style of working that I have moved away from. In this case, though I am constantly working in terra cotta which is about 80% of my out-put, I decided to do some black and white combed slip pieces in an Oribe and an amber glazed surface using stoneware. For the firing this covered jar came out of I made about a dozen or so covered jars, all black and white slip, some trailed, others brushed and combed in sized from about 12" to 15" in height. 

This particular jar was slipped and combed and has two lids, the interior lid and the exterior one that fits over the neck of the pot. I was, am pleased with how they came out and really like the pattern created by the comb showing up as a rich, darker color through the transparent Oribe glaze. In many respects a see a lot of my old mentor Bill Klock in these pots together with the wide array of historic pottery made in this style with a hint of a Japanese flair through the use of an Oribe style glaze. These were rather enjoyable to make, I like the honesty and directness of such pots and I hope that I circle back to making a few more pieces including larger jars and plates/bowls in the near future as now that my wife has snagged one of these jars she informed me she needs a "good size" plate for the wall and to use on the right occasions.

ONE HIT WONDER

I have to admit when thinking about the Iga and Seiji potter, Kishimoto Kennin, Ki-Seto is about the last thing that springs to mind but that is exactly what we are looking at proving he is no one hit wonder where it comes to surfaces. This is neither my pot nor my photo, this chawan belongs to a fellow collector and is an earlier piece by Kishimoto showing off a classic form and somewhat unique glaze surface that along with all of his other surfaces, he has managed to make this Ki-Seto particular to his studio. Beyond the form, the slightly meandering lip, protruding rib, centrally located and the fast spatula work breath the right amount of movement and life into this chawan making it somewhat enjoyable in the viewing and presumably even more so in the using.

GRAND PURPOSE

Looking a bit like a battlefield of both competing and complimentary textures and hues of color, this Oribe chawan is evidence of modernity in a tradition that has proliferated chadogu for nearly five centuries. This Oribe chawan was made by Tsukamoto Haruhiko and is the embodiment of a new spirit within the Mino tradition where the old and new collide to create new surfaces, forms, styles and firing techniques to add to a long standing tradition. Though many of the features may appear traditional from form and playful exterior, the way in which textures, slips and throwing and tooling are employed, there is a distinct freshness to much of Tsukamoto's work, there is both animation and abstraction worked into the clay which springboards off the playful intent of the earliest Oribe ware. I think what I normally bring away from after a Tsukamoto Haruhiko encounter is a sense of being visually and texturally amused and though they are designed and made for use and ceremony both, harnassing both exuberence and solemnity in a three dimensional form is likely their grandest purpose.

1.5÷15=ftb

At the end of the day in which I got less done than I had hoped, I had a few minutes to spare and just about 1.5lbs of clay so I decided to see what I could get done, start to finish in 15 minutes. To be honest, I kind of cheated in that given a recent encounter, i decided to make something that I have made in the past though not for some time or in recent memory. As you can see in the picture, I ended up making a fluted teabowl (ftb) that now tooled and fluted is quite a bit lighter than it started. The original inspiration for these bowls (and jars) that I made came from a 16th medieval suit of armour* most associated with Maximilian I or II, known as Maximiliansharnisch or Riefelharnisch where the armour is heavily fluted to create a stronger more defensive surface against weapons of the 16th century. 

My intent was to create an organic form which was curvy and imitated the upper torso portion of the armour (cuirass) which also serves as a great way to handle the pot once completed. Before this bowl goes to bisque I will gently sand and round down the ridges to remove the sharper protrusions and then decide how to graze it, maybe Oribe would be a good choice! All in all, using my handy stopwatch, now encrusted in clay, from wedging to tooling the bowl took 13 minutes and 22 seconds, shy of the 15 minutes I allot myself but this being a somewhat practiced form and technique the time should have come in even shorter. As I have mentioned before, anything worth doing is worth doing even faster the next time.      

The second photo shows the finished fired maxarm teabowl that I had made as a mad dash project. As may seem totally uncharacteristic of me, I opted for my Oribe glaze with a fine addition of iron over the surface. At the termination of each channel the glaze has collected creating a dark, rich pool that has an eerie effect under the most intense light source.  

(*I should mention that since my suit of Maximilian armour is at the dry cleaners a simple web search will give you the necessary comparative illustration that you may be intrigued by or you could follow the attached link. ) 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maximilian_armour

  

NIGHT & DAY

When I look at this large bottle, I just marvel at the atmosphere that it gives off, somber, brooding and purposeful straddling the realms of utility and appreciation, all attributes that make for a powerful and direct pot. Though I knew the maker immediately, you can see some elements of Karatsu-yaki in this bottle though if you know the potter, Sakata Deika XIII (1915-2010) it is quite clear that this is but one facet of how this potter sees and interprets Hagi in modern times. Full of volume and graceful bearing this stoneware form is the perfect setting for a surface that runs with hues of creamy off-white, lavenders and pinks all punctuated by effects created by the clay surface to dark, almost ominous overtones on the rear that paints a dynamic landscape moving from the light into darkness, like night and day.       

Born in 1915, Sakata Deika assumed the mantle as head of the Fugawa-gama (Yamaguchi Pref.) where he settled in and pioneered research into the recreation of the classic Ido style chawan of his ancestry. Having a career that expands over such a long time, Deika XIII left works in a wide array of styles, surfaces and forms among which this bottle and surface seem to be prevelant right through the 1990s though this piece dates to the late 1970s. Aside from Sakata Deika's classic Ido chawan, it is clear that he was dedicated to the Hagi tradition in which he spent a lifetime combining the old with the new with a clear eye on expanding the tradition, moving forward and bringing along hints of a modern aesthetic along for the ride.

FULLNESS

Glazed and wood fired, what really draws me to this Tamba tokkuri is the fullness of the piece, the captured volume that creates a taunt form, ready to burst or perhaps just be used spilling all of its contents. Made to be used, the surface of this tokkuri is a delightful collage of creamy, running glaze over an ash glaze with areas of iron while punctuated with stone and feldspar emerging from the clay to add further accents the pot. At its core this is a simple tokkuri, skillfully thrown with a purposeful base and mouth capping the structure, centuries in the designing though clearly of a more modern age this is a pot full of movement an in the moment. In all respects Nishibata Tadashi has taken what would seem to be an everyday pot and stretched its use, definition and aesthetics into an amalgamation of old and new, simple and complex and most assuredly the familiar into the distinctive vision of a potter building on the Tamba tradition who creating uncommon works along the way.

NO PHOTO INCLUDED

On and off for the past several years I have been making these thick combed slip bottles in predominantly three glaze surfaces; Oribe, AO+ and iron yellow saffron. Recently I received an email and asked if I could make a large AO+ bottle destined as a gift, normally the largest I tend to make is about 16" tall but they wanted something over 20" when it was fired. Piece of cake I thought and I set about throwing the bulk of the form and then added two coils and threw the rest to the shoulder and luted a neck to the pot when it was firm enough. Once tooled, I applied the thick slip and combed it and was pretty confident all was well. As you may imagine, this is where things went askew as the very top and bottom were slightly different in how dry they were and the addition of the very thick and wet slip caused a split on the inside of the pot where the first coil was added. This of course went unnoticed until the pot was bisque and came out with a crack about 5 inches long and just wide enough to slip a sheet of paper into, hammer-time.     

For my follow-up I decided to throw the form in three pieces, base, top and neck and luted them together, covered it in plastic letting it equalize, tooled it the next day and waited until the last conceivable moment to thick slip the piece. The pot came out of the kiln last week, measured in at just under 21" and was immediately packed and shipped out the same day and that is why no photo is included. Hubris and routine will sneak up on you and give you a good smack every now and again which is probably a good thing for a necessary course correction.      

Illustrated is the culprit that got this adventure started basking in the sun in an old picture taken several years ago. Thick combed slip bottle about 12" tall with my AO+ glaze overall.

SIMPLE ACTION

Though I really enjoy a pot with a complex form and surface, simplicity has an allure that is just hard to explain but easier to understand when you are engaged with it. I think the difference is like the disparity between Beethoven's  HAMMERKLAVIER and Debussy's CLAIRE DE LUNE, where the one is complex and forceful and the later is calming, soothing and contemplative, in the end generally speaking, a simple pot with those characteristics wins me over most every time. This large Shino tsubo by Ando Hidetake is just such a pot, thrown round and flattened on each side, breaking the flow of the round form and the symmetry is altered with this simple action. Once dry and ready to fire, the surface had a white feldspar glaze poured over the surface where thinner areas have blushed to subtle fields and patches of iron red bringing movement and a simple landscape to life around the pot. Though simple in its form and approach to glazing, the scale of the henko-tsubo presents a sense of strength that exudes volume, commanding the space it is placed within and that is likely the feature that drives its character and appeals to me the most.

QUITE A HANDFUL

I have to admit, I really admire Kumano's optimism, just let me explain. Given the sheer size of this guinomi, just how many cups of sake (bourbon, whisky) can you imbibe before things begin to spin out of control, especially your head? That being said, beyond the optimism, I love the scale and command of the pottery of Kumano Kuroemon where size and strength are written across the landscapes of his pottery and I think this large size guinomi is no exception. As you can see in the photo, this Matsuzaka-Shino kakinoheta guinomi is quite a handful, with a sweeping form filled with movement and a surface casually and spontaneously glazed awaiting the touch and fury of his wood kiln where a coating of natural ash glaze brings the pot to life. The large undulating form is balanced on a rather sturdy base where the foot is cut as quickly and routinely as the pot was thrown and glazed but make no mistake, what appears random and carefree is practiced over decades of making and firing which culminates in each pot that is the last that he has made. This experience reaches its crescendo at the completion of yesterdays pots, building yet once again with the pots he sets about making tomorrow, that is the nature of a potter's work, especially one as bold and adventurous as Kumano Kuroemon.         

I considered Voltaire's quote, "Optimism is the madness of insisting that all is well when we are all miserable" but decided to end the week on a slightly different  tone;  "The place where optimism most flourishes is the lunatic asylum." Havelock Ellis