QUARTER HOUR

Every once in a while, I will take a 15 minute block of time to make something I have been thinking about or doodling. The 15 minutes includes; wedging, throwing, addressing, slipping, tooling, the whole shabang from start to finish. The objective is that it doesn’t give me any time to over think or over fuss with the pot.

The pot I just finished is based on a Karatsu vase that I have long admired. It was thrown in 3 lbs. of clay and was then hit with the heat gun, the foot rolled, the pot slipped and combed and then small lugs put on. Certainly not a masterpiece, but it addresses the swiftness that I would like the pot to espouse. I guess after I work on the idea for a while and make a bunch, I can get it to where I want it to go. The reality is that now that I have a stepping stone to work with. I have already started to modify the original design and have “transmogrified” the original idea into a more exaggerated covered form.

Once it gets biqued, I will glaze it in my temmoku and haiyu glazes and if it comes out, will post it up at a later date. Don’t hold your breath……………




(For those not experienced using a heat gun to dry a pot, practice is necessary to get it just right. The use of a heat gun can lead to warping and cracking, so remember, I warned you! Please use you heat gun responsibly and don’t operate heavy machinery or drive while using your heat gun.)

MULTIPLES

The collector part of me has always weighed out the veracity of collecting multiple pieces by the same potter. There is part of me that is immensely engaged by a particular artist and thus interested in having a number of their pieces around to converse with. On the other hand is the mundane reality of “too many pots and never enough money”. This puts the pragmatic part of me into gear and I usually collect a few pieces at most by a single potter.

Recently, an internet friend of mine started on a roll and ended up with a half dozen chawan by a particular artist. In essence, they would seem to be the same thing, just six times over. Luckily I have been able to see numerous photos of each bowl and the actual reality is that each piece has something very unique to say. One may have a great lip, a great mikomi, kodai, glaze surface, overall posture, each has a different dialogue with the viewer. Though they are all fine teabowls, each has features that stand out, though in balance with the piece, admittedly, one is truly the whole package. I envy his ability to put the bowls in a row and drink in the presence, posture and bearing of the group.

In fact, the ability to put together a group of high level chawan is a wonderful opportunity to study a potters work along their own road to discovery. I suspect having the group is immensely satisfying and will provide a lifetime of interaction between potter, pot and collector. He is a lucky fellow!

PATIENCE

I am in the midst of a terra cotta cycle right now which entails throwing, tooling, bisquing and glazing. A standard cycle usually lasts about 3 weeks. I am also in the midst of making up some glaze tests for some of the terra cotta pieces. In the past, I would have taken a glaze I had used previously and just made up 6000gr. of glaze in a in for a penny in for a pound style impetuousness. I have learned my lesson. In other words, “fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me!”.

To illustrate my early folly, back in the very early 90’s, I happened on a copper red glaze formula. In the next firing, I put several pods in the kiln at varying places. The pods came out incredible, the best copper red I had seen, let alone ever made up. I was sold and made up 10,000 grams of glaze and fired a whole Alpine gas kiln full of porcelain. As I open the kiln, I learned a hard won lesson, never put all of your eggs in one basket. I had nearly a hundred pieces of what everyone was jokingly calling liver ware. The best learned lessons are ones that you have to go through.

I have moved some many times now that I am constantly surprised at the variables that will alter a glaze. In our first big move from Cleveland to NH, as soon as my studio was up and running, I set about throwing terra cotta and making up a few glazes for cone 04. None worked. The variables are many, but one of the main culprits was the use of well water. In my moves I have found how water high in iron, calcium, copper, etc. can alter the slips and glazes and change them beyond recognition.

Now days, I am a bit slower to leap before I look. Staying in the Northeast, I can at least control my clay and glaze materials, but the water source is a big variable. We live now, where we use well water that is both iron and calcium rich. I am trying to alter the glaze accordingly and will test before I go and glaze a kiln load of pots in glazes that I haven’t used since we moved here to Little Falls.

I know this just sounds like common sense, but there is nothing common about it. Some lessons have to be learned the hard way and I am determined not to repeat mistakes that I have made before. More pods, more glaze tests, more test bowls, each a valuable step in proofing glazes that have worked in the past and will hopefully work tomorrow.

THE UBIQUITOUS CHAWAN

I first encountered a chawan when I was in my mid-teens, I was more interested in swords, so it basically went unnoticed until my wife and I went to the BMFA and saw the LIVING TREASURES OF JAPAN exhibit. It was there that we were confronted with chawan unlike any we had seen before. The works of Arakawa Toyozo, Ishiguro Munemaro, Miwa Kyuwa and Nakazato Muan were prominently displayed. Shortly after that the KIKUCHI COLLECTION, JAPANESE CERAMICS TODAY made it to Washington. It was a shock to the system. Though I had no cultural relationship to the chawan or chanoyu, the teabowl itself had captivated my imagination.

I just couldn’t define the impact those two exhibits had on my psyche. I was mesmerized by the seeming simplicity and infinite variety of the chawan. I began an earnest study of the history, form, styles and nuances of the teabowl. I handled every chawan I could and those that were copies of the teabowl made by western potters. In essence the teabowl form had somehow run over my entire being and I began to realize how little I knew.

As collector and potter, I focused on the different sugata (form), kodai (foot), mikomi (tea pool) of any chawan I could handle or look at. Realizing I was not trained in the art of chanoyu, my direction was based on the many interpretations of the form. I wasn’t trapped in the absolutism of traditional convention and was able to, as most western potters are, to make a pot based on the teabowl archetypes.

As I began making pots, I focused on the teabowl as a form to pursue and interpret as I saw it in my mind. Over the years I have worked from cone 04 to cone 14, in stoneware, porcelain, earthenware and terra cotta from electric, gas, wood, salt, soda and raku and along the way, I am always trying to work out different forms, surfaces and designs with the idiom of the teabowl and doubt I have even scratched the surface. It is a fascinating form the shows beyond all other forms the complexity of simplicity.

( The chawan illustrated is a conventional Hagi chawan made by Tanomura Shogetsu, used with permission from a collection.)

TERRA COTTA

Working in terra cotta is so much different than throwing stoneware. It is somewhat more akin to porcelain, but even porcelain seems to have more body than terra cotta. The terra cotta I use, I have been using since the very early 90’s. The formula is based on the terra cotta that Dick Schneider used as CSU. I have my clay body made up for me and though it has its quirks and is tempermental to throw, it works well for me. Once thrown, it tools nicely, can be dried quickly and doesn’t warp unless overly abused. I use the terra cotta for my colorful underglazed pots, slipware, tebori ware and majolica and fire it anywhere from cone 04 to 01.

I spent yesterday afternoon prepping to deal with the terra cotta. I had to mix up various slips and underglazes and will be trying out a series of transparent glazes that I have not used for 5 years. Seems the testing is never done here.

KILN UPDATE

The elements arrived on Friday and I started prep to replace the elements that afternoon. I removed all the pins I could find and separated the kiln rings. On Saturday, I removed the electrical boxes and sniped the crimped connectors and removed the elements and replaced them with new ones.

By 4PM I had the new elements installed and started a cone 06 test fire. The kiln fired even and faster than it has been. Just a little bit of swearing and momentary lapses in sanity and the kiln is like new.

Out of my recent glaze fire, I got an adjusted test glaze out. I have been working on a Ki-Seto style ash glaze with copper accents over and under the glaze. This recent test which is a combo of wood and husk ash has come out somewhat close to what I was after. I am after a wetter, more glistening style of Ki-Seto and not the rougher aburagi style glaze like Hori Ichiro. It needs some work and some fine tuning, but ever journey begins with the first step.

OKABE’S PERSPECTIVE

“Fundamentally, no form or shape exists. The fact that the material itself has a reason for existence is the starting point of my work.”

“Clay acquires meaning only in its relationship to fire and glaze.”

“The connection between the materials-clay, shape and glaze- and the factor called the human being brings about the concreteness of ceramics.”
Okabe Mineo (1919-90)

Okabe Mineo was the son of the legendary Kato Tokuro. Much has been written about Okabe, so I will not extol the history and achievements of his life. Let is suffice to say, he was a master of each style he embraced. His Ko-Seto, Oribe, Shino, Ash glazed and celadon works are among the finest of the 20th century. His use of Oribe was homeric in nature, second to none and in my opinion unparalleled in the 20th century.

(The chawan illustrated is an early Ko-Seto ash glazed piece by Okabe Mineo, circa 1950. This piece is used with the kind permission of a private collection.)

CONTINUING KILN WOES

I recently had to do some ad hoc kiln repair on my electric bique kiln. I have an Olympic kiln and it has been a true work horse and very problem free. The first problem was solved by replacing my tube assembly for the kiln setter and new switches.

Once repaired, I loaded the bique and off it went. Seemingly no problems, though a bit slower than previously. Now as I am firing another bisque and am having a near impossible time making the last 50 degrees of cone 06, I have no choice but to admit it is time to replace the elements.

The elements in the kiln are just about 5 years old and on average I fire the kiln twice a week, so do the math. I have ordered new elements and when they arrive, the fun begins. Though I have replaced elements several times before, it is always such a long period of time between doing so, that the lead up to the process is always wrought with a bit of anxiety. There is little you can do wrong to replace the elements, but I am just dreading the process not to mention the down time and loss of a day to do so. As usual, I’d rather be throwing!

MARKS

Shoji Hamada was arguably one of the best mark makers in pottery of the last century. His repeated use of the sugarcane motif was casual, engaging and very prominently articulated his pottery. There are a number of good mark makers today; Tom Coleman, Michael Simon and Ron Meyers spring to mind.

Like many potters, though I understand the importance of the mark (and line) on clay and as a decoration, it takes years to develop a vocabulary of marks that work well and are responded to. Good marks add value to a pot and help establish it’s form and gesture.

I use a variety of marks, some from cartoons, historical examples and some just happened on for my pottery. I try to match the right marks with the right surfaces and pots and am always looking to improve with the help of critical analysis of collectors, potters and critics. As Soetsu Yanagi points out; “unless a thing attracts the mind it is not a thing; unless the mind gives life to a thing it is not as yet complete”. Good marks engage the mind, completing a process started by the potter and help bring the pot to fruition.

NEW BIZEN

Whenever I think about Bizen pottery today, I invariably think of the Isezaki family. Isezaki Yozan(1902-61) was the father of Isezaki Jun, Ningen Kokuho of Bizen pottery and his brother Isezaki Mitsuru, Prefectural Living National Treasure of Okayama and Jun’s son is one of the quintessential faces of modern Bizen pottery; Isezaki Koichiro (伊勢﨑 晃一朗 ).

Isezaki Koichiro (b. 1974) has had a rich learning experience having studied with his father (Jun) as well as, being in proximity to his uncle (Mitsuru) and his father’s apprentice Kakurezaki Ryuichi. Koichiro also went to the US and studied with noted wood fire potter Jeff Shapiro. This blend of eastern and western traditions is evident in his pottery and firing technique which is helping add a new definition to modern Bizen pottery.

Much of his work is similar in style to the pictured chawan. His chawan in particular, have been stripped to the bare essentials of form and are nearly minimalist in execution. His work is not only visually engaging, but is seductive in the hand, soft in it’s lines, evocative and enticing. To finish the bowl, the wood firing has left rivulets of ash cascading down the teabowl further accentuating the height and curve of the piece. The foot is also deceptively simple in it’s finish and the roving lip calls you into the interior. Overall this chawan is a minimalist tour de force.