”It is an unscrupulous intellect that does not pay to
antiquity its due reverence.” (Desiderius)
Erasmus
(*This picture contains an actual image of a pot or pots in an AI generated background or scenario)
A Rambling Blog About A Potter And Pots
”It is an unscrupulous intellect that does not pay to
antiquity its due reverence.” (Desiderius)
Erasmus
(*This picture contains an actual image of a pot or pots in an AI generated background or scenario)
This Tamba haiyu (ash-glazed) guinomi by Nishibata Tadashi is a visceral landscape compressed into the palm of the hand. Though not exactly the mini-chawan that I gravitate toward, this roughly hexagonal piece is a rugged, mountainous form, somewhat heavy in appearance with hints of wood fired effects especially in the form of rich hi-iro on the base. There is a calming and quiet dignity baked into this vessel with six opposing panels forms a connected and individual visages all considered with a confident hand that allows the surface to speak its own unique language.
The exterior is a bit like a play, a drama of shifting temperaments, movement and elemental reactions to the heat of the kiln which is the time-tested crucible of all pottery. On one face, a thick, cream-colored ash glaze cascades down the sides like melting late season snow, pooling into a rich, opaque ivory. This "running" glaze comes face to face with the textured base, an iron-rich underworld of deep iron red and burnt sienna, a painter’s dream. The transition is not exactly smooth forming a chaotic boundary where the running ash glaze bites into the clay, creating a semi-volatile texture that feels ancient, almost volcanic.
What is potentially the "front" of the guinomi features a startling contrast to the rear, an angled, dark opening of clay color appears where the glaze has been dipped to create a casual void revealing clay texture and iron spots most likely created by using the finger-tips as a brush, spots appear, punctuating the space as primitive a decoration as man can make. The interior of the cup is where the alchemy reaches its zenith, a maelstrom created by chance and design. A pool of the swirling, running vitrified ash has settled in the well, cooling and creating a nebula of ash and perpetual motion.
Turning
the piece over, the simple kodai (foot) reveals the true nature
of the Tamba clay. It has become a toasty, orange-red earth, where the hi-iro
is further interrupted by contrasting marks where the piece was fired on wads.
The playful visual and tactile experience of this guinomi is one of constant
discovery, an ever-shifting landscape which only serves as a reminder that in
the hands of a master like Nishibata, the kiln is not just a tool, but an elemental partner in the work.
especially: an
Italian ware of this kind (Merriam & Webster definition)
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I realize this
isn’t the best photo but wanted to share this from the “early days”, maybe it
was 1992 or 1993. For some reason, I had become a bit obsessed with this really
chaotically decorated tin glazed majolica with oxide pigments which also lead
me down the road of doing reduction lusters as well. This assemblage of
decorations was called, Who’s Who and was illustrative of the people and places
encountered on my bus and train ride into Cleveland proper seven days a week. There
was never a dull moment and I think this decoration makes that abundantly
clear. Thrown out of terra cotta, the pieces were glazed over in a slightly
off-white majolica glaze and then each one was painted in series or
individually depending on the piece. At the time, most every form I was working
with including the leaning tower of Piza jars (not shown), were employed but
here you have covered jars, teabowls, cups and saucers and small, one-person
teapots that I was having fun making. I am not sure if it is clear or not but
the cups and teapots all have pedestal feet, something I had started doing on
porcelain pieces a short while earlier and I liked the feel, look and
sometimes, the challenge. At any rate, I do remember this group of two dozen
pieces coming out of one kiln load and though there is some level of cringe
now, being in clay for a short while at the time, I was slightly pleased with
these way back when. (I should note that I have Alan Caiger Smith, Dick and
Patty Schneider and Linda Arbuckle to thank for pushing me down this particular rabbit
hole.)
On a lighter note, here is a simple meandering fluted teabowl glazed over in my Ao+ glaze on a porcelain body. This sort of has that roller-coaster feeling in terms of movement and definitely reminds me of the old zoetrope and zoopraxiscope of the 19th century. I have used this technique under several glazes and it seems best suited for transparent and translucent glazes though temmoku and ash may be a good fit, maybe next cycle.
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)