Feel, Improvise, and Be Free: Wood-fired Ceramics by Shumpei Yamaki

Ceramics Shumpei Yamaki

Work by Shumpei Yamaki in our shop ->

Iowa potter Shumpei Yamaki takes a very long time to load his single-chamber anagama kiln. “People used to mock me in school because I was so slow”, he chuckles. “But to me, kiln loading is like completing a beautiful 300-piece, three-dimensional jigsaw puzzle that has infinite picture variations”, Shumpei says in explaining why he takes about six times longer than other potters for the loading process.

“I love kiln-loading” Shumpei says passionately. “In ceramics school, we are taught that 80 per cent of the end result depends on how the kiln is loaded, but I’m surprised how little time people spend to load the kiln.”

A beautifully loaded ’Kumahei’ kiln of Iowa potter Shumpei Yamaki before the firing. Each piece is placed with the greatest care and attention. The wood is added from the front part of the kiln and the pieces closest to the front receive the most effect from the fire and ash. (Photo Courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki)

Unlike many potters that load similar sized items in groups inside the kiln, Shumpei arranges vessels of various sizes and shapes all mixed together. It takes much longer to load pieces this way, but to Shumpei the utmost advantage of firing unglazed wares in a wood-firing kiln is the freedom in the way the pieces can be arranged inside it.

The kiln is fired for 4 to 5 days. (Photo courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki)
The kiln after the firing. Towards the end of the firing, Shumpei drops the pieces closest to the stoking hole onto the hot embers. While there is a risk of the pieces breaking, Shumpei thinks that the most exciting effects can be achieved from this process. (Photo Courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki)

To place each piece, Shumpei considers how the fire will flow between the pieces and how the ashes may fall onto their surfaces: by stacking, putting the pieces on their sides, and placing them diagonally or upside-down. Shumpei takes his time because he simply does not want to ‘waste’ the space by lining up similar pieces.

Wood-fired Jar by Shumpei Yamaki. This jar is an example of a piece dropped onto the embers in the firebox.

All of this attention to kiln loading and pottery making in general was implausible to Shumpei back in the late 1990s when he arrived in the U.S. to learn street and house dance. He then went on to study archaeology at the University of Wisconsin, but was still unsure if this topic was what he wanted to pursue as a career.

Behind Shumpei’s move to the U.S., there were complex tales of brilliantly talented family members and self-imposed expectations in life as the eldest son, together with perhaps a desire to run away from it all.

Shumpei never dreamed that he would become a potter (Photo Courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki)

Then in 1999, Shumpei almost lost his life and his right arm in a car accident, which completely changed his life. “I woke up thinking, wow I had a great sleep” he said. “Then when I opened my eyes I was surrounded by people and that’s when I realized I was in an accident.”

Traumatic as this accident may have been, Shumpei speaks openly about it because he realizes that if it was not for this event, the club-dancing, fashion-conscious young man would have never learned pottery that was recommended as physical therapy for his damaged arm. Shumpei’s natural gift was quickly recognized by Karen Terpstra, Professor of Art at the University of Wisconsin who recommended Shumpei to continue with his ceramics studies. He went on to apprentice under Richard Bresnahan of St. John’s Pottery at the College of St. Benedict and St. John’s University, and eventually received a MFA from the University of Iowa.

Simple and modern wood-fired bowl by Shumpei Yamaki

 

The hallmark of Shumpei’s works are their refreshingly modern and sharp lines, a welcome diversion from wood-fired works that often have a rustic and clunky image. Shumpei’s care to pull out the maximum effects of fire in the kiln are evident in every one of his pieces.

Wood-fired bottle by Shumpei Yamaki

“I started with the presumption that true vessels are made unintentionally” Shumpei says, “so I wanted to learn the skill to be able to throw speedily, eventually without thought. But then I discovered that this style did not work for me. When I make pots, I want to put feelings into each piece and I always aim to create each vessel with sincerity.”

Shumpei takes time to make each piece of pottery with heart-felt sincerity.

Until Shumpei started making ceramics, he assumed that he would end up living in the city, similar to where he grew up in Japan. After all, nature and earth were the furthest away from his interests. But now rural Iowa is his home, where all he can see around him is the horizon and his kiln.

Shumpei Yamaki’s kiln in West Branch, Iowa (Photo Courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki)

Shumpei contemplates the path that he has traveled. “I was sent to nature camps when I was growing up and I couldn’t adapt so I thought it wasn’t for me. But now that I live here [in the countryside], I’m surprised how much I enjoy it”. He is making elegant pots and also continuing to dance, and he’s so good at both because of his extraordinary ability to feel, improvise, and be free.

California Natives: Manzanita “Vandenberg” in a Vase by Bill Geisinger

Bill Geisinger Research Tea

How should I select and arrange flowers in a vessel? For the tea room, Japanese tea master Sen no Rikyu (1522-1591) famously said that “the flowers should be arranged as they are in the field”.

As I walked my dog one fall morning last year and saw the misleadingly iconic imported palm trees and eucalyptuses against the blue California sky, I wondered “so what did Californian fields look like before these exotic plants arrived?”

Palm trees are ubiquitous in San Diego, and they seem to be considered representative of California
Looking out to the ocean from Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve. Natural reserves provide a glimpse of what indigenous California fields look like. The Southern California coast often starts gray in the morning, as seen in this photo, but then brightens as the sun breaks through for the rest of the day.

On one side of our back garden, I have a long strip of planter area that I had been been watching weeds grow for the last two years. My grand plan after all the necessary repairs were done inside the house, was to plant some beautiful flowers like camellias and peonies that are listed as ‘appropriate’ for the tea room. No I don’t have such a room yet, but it is part of my ambitious 20-year renovation vision that I promise to discuss with my husband who will first read about the plan in this blog.

I began researching camellias and read about the care and attention for the one type that I have always wanted. It is called Camellia Wabisuke and is a small single form camellia that I frequently see in photos of tea room alcoves. My desire for this flower was made stronger because of its perfect name, which includes the word wabi!

Japan’s oldest Wabisuke Camellia in Ryoanji temple Kyoto, conveniently labeled for tourists with a sign.

Then, I looked at a photo that I took of Japan’s oldest Wabisuke plant in Ryoanji from a past trip to Kyoto, and realized that I was crazy. Camellias really belong where there is regular rain and sufficient humidity, which is usually where luscious mosses can grow and cover the ground. When I mentioned this to my tea teacher who has been growing tea flowers in San Diego for the last 50 years, she shook her head and confirmed that “camellias are the most difficult to grow and care for” in Southern California.

Single form white camellia that will be close to impossible to grow in Southern California. White camellias are especially difficult to grow according to my tea teacher.

Feeling defeated before even planting a single flora, I looked through my tea ceremony guide book and re-read the seven rules of Sen no Rikyu, which led me to the opening question of this blog.

After some research, I was surprised to discover that there are thousands of plant species in California, many of which can be found nowhere else. Many also bloom with beautiful and unostentatious flowers. I excitedly thought that I should try turning my back-garden dirt strip into a native flower cutting garden and started to investigate which plants I should grow. This was no easy task because the actual plants are not commonly sold in nearby nurseries.

Tree of Life Nursery in San Juan Capistrano

Finally when I attended a native garden workshop I discovered the Tree of Life nursery in San Juan Capistrano that is owned by Mike Evans. I was inspired when he said that “your garden should provide a sense of place and it should be a place where you want to spend time engaging and enjoy caring for”. Tree of Life specializes in native plants suited for Southern California and each plant is provided with a detailed description for the care that it needs, which is very helpful for a novice gardener like me.

The first native flower I planted was an Island Bush Poppy. This should grow to over 5 feet.

So far, I have planted 8 native grasses and flowers and they all seem to be thriving. One of them is the Manzanita “Vandenberg,” so called because it was discovered on the central coast near Vandenberg Air Force Base. The planting direction that I follow is: “dig a hole twice as big as the container, plant with no fertilizer, no soil amendments, just some mulch and native soil.”

Manzanita Vandenberg with deer grass in Bill Geisinger’s wood-fired vase. Its flowers look like lovely upside down vases when looked at closely, its fruit look like mini apples (manzanita in Spanish).

Today, I cut a stem from the Vandenberg and put it in a vase by Bill Geisinger, which is made from California native clay. I do not know what Master Rikyu would have thought about this arrangement, but it was a moment when I realized that the wisdom he had left behind over 400 years ago continues to be relevant as a guide for figuring out a good perspective, and a way of life. Above all,  I am grateful that these plants provide a sense of connection to California, even for a transplant like me.

 

 

Cooperage by Marshall Scheetz: The Keeper of an Ancient Skill

Wood Marshall Scheetz

Coopered vessels by Marshall Scheetz in our shop ->

Until I saw the solid and tightly coopered sea service bucket by Marshall Scheetz of Jamestown Cooperage, I never gave much thought to how, even just 100 years ago, coopered wooden containers were essential for people in their daily lives.

A sea service bucket by Marshall Scheetz. It is so called because it doesn’t tip over easily with the wide base. This bucket has been used outdoors for carrying water and other garden chores for over a year and is still completely watertight.

“It is so interesting to look at 18th century illustrated encyclopedias. Almost every image in every chapter depicts people from all walks of life using barrels, tubs and buckets for their work”, Marshall points out. He is one of only half a dozen or so remaining master coopers in the U.S. with the ability to create and repair all kinds of cooperage using traditional tools. The types of work that Marshall makes include the most difficult watertight casks for carrying valuable liquid like wine to everyday vessels like tubs, buckets and tankards that have now mostly been replaced by plastic counterparts.

Marshall Scheetz at a coopering demonstration in Saratoga in 2016.
Photo courtesy of Marshall Scheetz

Marshall learned his coopering skills during a six-year apprenticeship under master cooper James Pettengell at the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation. Since 1971, only four people completed the apprenticeship under master coopers George and James Pettengell, who were brothers that moved from London to set up the cooper shop at Colonial Willamsburg.

Many apprenticeships failed because of the long-term commitment that is required. Also, people often entered the training program believing (as I did) that other woodworking skills like carpentry would easily translate into coopering skills that, in fact, does not. Marshall explains that coopering “requires equal parts brute strength and graceful manipulation of materials”, so “the physical demands of the trade can use you up.”

Master coopers James (on the far right) and George (in the far back) Pettengell at a traditional initiation ceremony for a cooper who completed the apprenticeship. Since 1971, only four journeymen including Marshall Scheetz completed the cooperage apprenticeship in Colonial Williamsburg. George retired in 2000 and James retired in 2016. Photo courtesy of Marshall Scheetz

With a surge of renewed appreciation and demand for liqueurs like whiskeys, wines and beers aged in wood barrels, there are currently many coopers working in the U.S. I remember reading a few years ago about a barrel shortage in the booming bourbon industry, so the cooper’s trade, in the form of barrels, is thriving. These industrial coopers assemble staves, drives hoops, and repair casks just as traditional coopers do, but Marshall is unique because while he can make and repair casks, he also creates smaller items like buckets, tankards and tubs that require an additional set of skills and tools.

Piggins at the cooperage studio of Marshall Scheetz in Williamsburg, Virginia.
Photo courtesy of Marshall Scheetz

While industrial coopers spend the majority of their time operating machinery, Marshall continues an ancient skill of cooperage using traditional tools taught by his master. As a scholar, teacher, and expert on cooperage history, it is important for Marshall to carry on what was taught to him.

Left: A hogshead sized barrel (63 gallons) just before trussing (bending of the staves to make the barrel shape). 
Right: Marshall heating the barrel staves to soften the wood so they will bend when the truss hoops are hammered down onto the splayed end of the cask.  The fire is contained inside a small metal basket called a cresset.

To make a cask, Marshall uses about two dozen tools. Most of the hand-tools that he uses are antiques from the 19th to early 20th centuries. They are oiled on a daily to weekly basis and grounded or sharpened only as needed on a traditional whet stone wheel with water.

Some of the cooper’s tools used by Marshall Scheetz
Photo courtesy of Marshall Scheetz

Marshall occasionally prepares raw materials from trees, but mostly, he uses quarter-sawn timber from mills so that he can focus his time on honing his coopering skills.  Manually shaping the wood for staves and other parts of the coopered vessel require cognitive skills that are more like sculpting than woodworking. To create a watertight vessel, he measures subtle details by touching the stave and scanning for corrections, and makes them liquid tight simply by the fit of the pieces.

＞＞Click to Watch Marshall demonstrating coopering at George Washington’s Mount Vernon＜＜

The resulting buckets, tubs and everyday containers are high-quality functional items and they carry the intrinsic beauty of the hand and its work.

A sea service bucket that has been tightened, and the bottom has been leveled off with the sun place tool.  The next step is to cut the bottom groove with the croze.  The two hoops on the bucket are heavy “ring hoops” used to build the container, but replaced after all the wood working is finished.  Photo courtesy of Marshall Scheetz

Marshall jokes that “hand-making products by yourself in the modern capitalistic society can be economic suicide”. But Marshall thinks of himself as a keeper of the cultural heritage of an ancient skill, which means that he is constantly researching about cooperage history. Some of the topics that he is currently studying include looking at the production points of Hagley Gunpowder Mills, the whaling industry of New England, and cooperage made by the Shakers in the late 18th and 19th centuries.

coopered bucket
Sea service buckets by Marshall Scheetz

Yanagi Muneyoshi, the Japanese founder of the Mingei movement said, “handwork, because it has nature behind it, has a way of fostering good life.” Marshall clearly has a fulfilling job with a purpose, and that certainly entails a “good life.”

It is not just a bowl, it is a spouted bowl

Ceramics Kazu Oba

Do you use spouted bowls on your dining table? If not, I highly recommend that you do. Don’t be misled by the spout though as these bowls are not just for pouring liquid, but are also great for serving a meal, soup, or even displaying flowers.

An unglazed spouted bowl, or katakuchi, by Kazu Oba

The best way to think of them is that they are a bowl with a “mouth” that has personality and charm. In Japanese, these vessels are called Katakuchi, and there is so much interest and obsession with them that there are stores that specialize in only selling spouted bowls.

Kazu Oba’s white katakuchi with a touch of blue from the salt introduced to the kiln at the last stage of firing.
A double spouted bowl by Kazu Oba

As my regular customers might already know, katakuchi are my favorite types of vessels and I can’t seem to get enough of them. Luckily, I just received a whole bunch of them from Kazu Oba in Colorado, together with other beautiful pots by him. Please enjoy browsing these gorgeous mouthed vessels in my shop today!

Nitta Yoshiko’s Trunk Show at the Mingei International Museum Shop in Balboa Park, San Diego. November 3rd and 4th, 2017

Glass Mingei Nitta Yoshiko

Blown and etched glasswork by Nitta Yoshiko in our shop ->

I am really excited to be able to show over 100 masterful pieces of work by Japanese glass artist Nitta Yoshiko at the Mingei International Museum Shop in San Diego this weekend.

Blown glass bowls by Japanese artist Nitta Yoshiko

I have known Yoshiko for over 5 years now, and I still remember vividly when I first saw her glassware at a craft fair in Osaka in 2012. I had never seen blown glass as thin and comfortable to hold as those made by Yoshiko, and I excitedly asked if she was willing to work with me to introduce her work in the United States. I was so happy when she agreed!

Japanese Glass Artist Nitta Yoshiko (third from left) at a craft fair in Japan in 2012

Almost every day, I use the glasses that I first bought from her back in 2012. Yoshiko’s works are not just beautiful and simple, but also very sturdy. Yoshiko makes her work exclusively with clear glass that demands the highest skill from the glass blower because any unevenness in the thickness can be obvious at first glance.

Glass blowing tools used by Nitta Yoshiko

I asked Yoshiko why she chose to work with clear glass despite these technical difficulties and she gave me this explanation: “The biggest reason I work with clear glass is because it is my favorite type of glass. In my opinion, the most appealing aspect of glass is its ability to let the light through, and its shadow to fall onto the surface that it is placed on. These effects are maximized in clear glass. I also love the appearance of clear glass.”

Nitta Yoshiko chose to work with clear glass because she thinks that the most appealing aspect of glass is its ability to let the light through, and its shadow to fall onto the surface that it is placed on.
Orange supreme in Nitta Yoshiko’s footed bowl. Yoshiko works with clear glass because it shows the true colors of the objects that it is holding.

She continued: “I also want my work to be the vessel that shows the true colors of the objects that it is holding. Food, flowers, drinks all have beautiful natural colors. I think people want to enjoy the subtle colors of their sake, for example.”

The maker’s regard for the end user can be felt in every piece that is made by Nitta Yoshiko.

Yoshiko was planning to be in San Diego for this show but a family emergency made that trip impossible unfortunately. Nonetheless, she is here in spirit, and her regard for you, the end user, can be felt in every piece that she made and sent. I hope that you will be able join me in celebrating her beautiful work at the most fantastic and appropriate venue that is the Mingei International Museum Shop in San Diego.

Wood vessels by Nakaya Yoshitaka: The Legacy of a Tree

Wood Nakaya Yoshitaka

Woodwork by Nakaya Yoshitaka in our shop ->

Woodworker Nakaya Yoshitaka resides in the sprawling foothills of Mt. Fuji in Shizuoka prefecture. Much of the wood he uses is obtained locally, often from families that needed to fell trees on their properties for safety or other reasons.

These trees often have significant meaning for the homeowners because their ancestors may have planted them or they may have played on them when they were children. Nakaya-san feels that by making vessels out of this wood, he is ensuring that the legacy of these trees live on.

Chestnut plate by woodworker Nakaya Yoshitaka
Japanese oak bowl by Nakaya Yoshitaka

Nakaya-san’s wood vessels are shaped before the wood is completely dry and allowed to shrink and warp to provide their distinctive curves. The foot is created after the wood is thoroughly dried to make a leveled bottom. By creating vessels in this way, Nakaya-san thinks that he is letting the wood to speak, and decide the shape that it wants to be.

New work by Kazu Oba, and the Story of Myoga, the Japanese Ginger

Ceramics Kazu Oba Food and Craft

Ceramics by Kazu Oba in our shop ->

Looking back, I realize there were so many things that I disliked eating when I was a child. One of my arch enemies was myoga, the flower buds of Japanese ginger that appeared regularly at the dinner table in the summer and did not go away until October.

Myoga, Japanese ginger

Just like green onions, myoga was served as a garnish in miso soup, cold tofu, and other delicious things that, to a child’s tongue, tasted far better without this cursed topping. These terrible condiments are called yakumi, which means medicinal garnish, and my dream was to move to a world where they served food without them.

The other problem with myoga was that it was also the motif of my family’s crest. When I discovered this fact, I was so disappointed that I wasn’t born into a family with beautiful flower crests like Wisteria or Paulownia. I mean, why a lowly vegetable?

Family crest on my kimono, daki-myoga. The Japanese ginger motif.

Years have passed and now a cold tofu without yakumi would be a let-down at the dinner table. And I even rather like the fact that a hardy shade-loving Zingiber is the motif of my family’s crest.

Cold tofu served with myoga and green onions in a bowl by Kazu Oba

Kindling Emotions: Functional Ceramics by Samuel Johnson

Ceramics Samuel Johnson

Ceramics by Samuel Johnson in our shop ->

Ceramics fired with wood and adorned with their natural ash are one of the most fascinating types of pottery to bring into our daily lives. This is because the color and texture varies throughout each vessel, and new things can be discovered as the user explores the surface while handling the vessel.

A wood-fired spouted bowl by Samuel Johnson. The user will notice the various colors and textures revealed in different lighting conditions.

When Samuel Johnson was inspired to become a potter as a junior at the University of Minnesota over twenty years ago, he says that he fell in love with the concept of “expressing complex ideas and feelings through a limited structure, and was overwhelmed by the creative potential others had found within it”.

The dark clay body of Samuel Johnson’s work brings out the beautiful natural colors of fruit, like these peaches.

Samuel’s work is robust and with a strong feeling of tradition. His creations are simple and powerful, undisturbed by modern motivation. He says his skill and sensibilities were most influenced by his teacher and mentor Richard Bresnahan, whom he apprenticed under for over three years right after graduating from college.

Bresnahan has been the Artist-in-Residence at The Saint John’s Pottery for over 35 years and is renowned for his unique aesthetic and tradition of deriving materials for making pottery from indigenous materials. “I learned my fundamental skills in his studio and developed my sensibilities for both the how and why of it”, Samuel recalls about his time as an apprentice.

Left: Potter Samuel Johnson’s kick wheel and freshly thrown pots. Right: Samuel adding charcoal to the last stage of wood-firing

Samuel is also deeply influenced by the work of Nakazato Takashi, a 13th generation potter in Karatsu, Japan who was the teacher of Bresnahan. Nakazato is one of Japan’s most revered contemporary potters who has helped bridge countless interactions and exchanges between potters of Japan and the U.S. His achievements also include the revival of the powerful Yokino ware, an indigenous and beautiful wood-fired, simple unglazed type of pottery from Tanegashima Island.

A paddled jar by Samuel Johnson. The stunning form is a reference to the Karatsu tradition of pottery where Samuel’s teacher Richard Bresnahan studied as an apprentice. It is important to Samuel that his work represents a lineage and connection to a tradition.

“Having studied within a specific lineage of makers, I feel responsible to them and their aesthetic tradition. Yet, theirs is a tradition of diversity”, says Samuel to explain how his teachers have influenced his work. He also sometimes deliberately makes forms that reference their work, as a mark for the insightful to notice.

Samuel today is an Associate Professor of Art at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University. As a full-time professor and father of four young children, his pottery work is undertaken mostly at night after the children have gone to sleep. Work must be stocked up over several months to fill a wood kiln that he built on the university campus. The firing of the kiln is an event involving students and members of the local community that happens two or three times a year. In addition, Samuel fires his gas kiln several times a year in-between the wood kiln firings.

The wood-firing kiln that Samuel Johnson built on campus is fired 2-3 times a year. “The Sister Dennis Frandrup Kiln” was named after a nun who led the ceramic program for many years at the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University

“I like pots that feel enigmatic, mysterious, and resolute”, Samuel says. He also considers the functionality of pottery as essential, because it is a unique form of engagement that is largely absent in other art forms.

So I invite you to take a closer look at Samuel’s work and experience the emotions that they can evoke. By pouring tea in his cup, serving salad in his bowl, or putting a flower in his vase, you may experience the feeling of encountering an old tree, the tenaciousness of a rock, or the seasons and passage of time. It is like visiting a wonderful garden, right inside your hands.

Guide to Choosing Your Tea Whisk for Matcha

Tea Tanimura Tango

Takayama chasen by Tanimura Tango in our shop ->

At Entoten, we carry a wide variety of the highest quality tea whisks made by Tanimura Tango, the master maker from Takayama Nara. His family has been making bamboo tea whisks for the last 500 years. With many different forms and types of tea whisks to choose from, customers have asked me how to go about choosing the right one for them, so here is my guide to choosing the tea whisk that is most ideal for you.

Entoten carries a wide variety of the highest quality tea whisks made by Tanimura Tango.

Foam or No Foam

I think the most popular way to prepare matcha in the U.S. is with lots of foam on top. This is a thin type of matcha called usucha. If you are new to preparing usucha, then the best whisk is either kazuho or 80 hondate chasen. These whisks have approximately 70-80 tines and they are also the most widely available forms of tea whisks on the market. The curled tips of these whisks allow for the tea to be efficiently stirred to create foam.

The 80 hondate tea whisk with curled tips efficiently stirs the tea to create foam
Matcha prepared with fine foam on top

If you are already an experienced tea whisker, then I urge you to try the shin-kazuho tea whisk. This type of whisk has approximately 70 lightly curved tines, and while it requires a little getting used to, it excels at creating very fine foam and less bubbles. The bonus is that the tines do not break as easily because their tips are not curled. This type of whisk in white (hachiku) bamboo is used by the Grand Master of the Urasenke tea school.

Shin-Kazuho tea whisk has gently curved tines

I also want to point out that, contrary to popular belief, creating lots of foam is not the only ‘correct’ way to prepare usucha. While the Urasenke tea school prefers to make its tea with lots of foam, other tea schools and their masters prepare their tea with less foam, like Omotesenke and Mushakouji-senke for example. Soshuryu whisks used by Mushakouji-senke are straight-tined, precisely to create less foam. Personally, I think usucha with less foam allows for the delightful umami and bitterness of tea to be more clearly tasted, and for the flavor to linger longer in your mouth afterwards.

Contrary to popular belief, making lots of foam is not the only “correct” way to make matcha. The Omotesenke tea school, for example, makes tea with just enough foam so that there will be a ‘crescent moon’ of green lake left on the surface.

Thick Tea

A less commonly prepared but delicious version of matcha is thick tea, or koicha, which is made with a lot of powder and little hot water to create the consistency of a gravy sauce. If you regularly prepare thick tea, then rough tined whisks are recommended. These whisks have thicker tines that do not break while you mix the koicha. If you only occasionally make thick tea, kazuho or shin-kazuho tea whisks may also be used for this purpose.

Rough tined Sohenryu whisk on the left in comparison to the Kazuho whisk

Most Important: Choose Freely

The tea whisk is meant to be regularly used and ultimately the tines will break and the handle may crack, at which point it should be replaced. When you are looking for a new whisk, I hope that you try out many kinds of whisks and not restrict yourself to a certain school or form.

Special edition Shin-Kazuho black bamboo tea whisk with pink string. Tea should be fun and whisks should be chosen freely to match your mood and the seasons.

Black bamboo tea whisks, for example, are less commonly known but their dark austere appearance may perfectly match with your tea bowl. Tea whisks tied with different colors may be chosen according to your mood, the seasons, and your own preferences.

Rest assured that every whisk is made with the utmost care by the Tanimura family. You can read more about the process and attention that goes into the making of these tea whisks in my blog post about Tanimura Tango.

 

The Fabrics of a Craft: Quiltmaker Sarah Nishiura

Design Textiles Sarah Nishiura

Quilts by Sarah Nishiura in our shop ->

When I first saw a photograph of an inventive quilt made by the Chicago-based quilter Sarah Nishiura, I thought I was looking at an abstract painting. The fascinating geometry, surprising lines, and the hues of colors enticed me to feel something completely new.

2017 Quilt by Sarah Nishiura.
Photo courtesy of Sarah Nishiura

Sarah, who is both an accomplished painter and dedicated quilt-maker, distinguishes between the two forms. “A painting is flat,” she observes, ”a quilt on the other hand is never flat. It may be presented that way in a gallery or in an image on-line, but the surface is textured from the stitches. There is always some kind of wave or wiggle to it, and, if it is used on a bed or a lap, it changes constantly as it is folded, draped, or left in a lump on a piece of furniture.”

quilt by sarah nishiura
A quilt changes constantly as it gets used in our everyday life

A quilt has much more purpose than a painting in Sarah’s view. “Quilts are meant to be touched while paintings are generally not. As a painter, the brush was always an intermediary between me and the thing I was making. When I quilt, I touch every inch of my work as it evolves. And similarly, touch is a very important part of the viewer/user’s experience,” she explained.

Sarah was taught to quilt by her mother, whose own mother made quilts by piecing together feed sacks during the Great Depression in the late 1920s and early 1930s. Sarah’s Japanese-American father’s family was held in an internment camp during the Second World War, where they gathered wood scraps to create altars for people.

Sarah hand-quilts all of her work instead of by machine because she likes the way the lines look. It is a slow process but she feels that the pace of quilting is what makes the final product so special.  
Photo courtesy of Sarah Nishiura

By creating beautiful quilts that provide warmth through the piecing together of otherwise discarded fragments from the past, Sarah finds a connection to the ingenious creativity of her ancestors who created useful and beautiful things out of nothing.

Sarah Nishiura and her shelves of inspiration at her studio in Chicago
Photo courtesy of Sarah Nishiura

Sarah gets her greatest inspirations from quilt history. “I love looking at quilts made in the past, analyzing their designs, how they were made, and also thinking about the context in which they were made”. She occasionally takes a deep dive into the collections database of The International Quilt Study Center in Lincoln, Nebraska where traditional quilt patterns can be searched with examples of hundreds of variations of the same pattern.

“One thing I love to do when designing is to challenge the geometric relationships that have traditionally been used in quilting. Figuring out how to warp a grid or shift proportions within a composition is a really fun puzzle and can open up endless possibilities and create some really dazzling effects,” she said. Indeed, a quick Internet image search of Sarah’s name will pull up quilts with numerous innovative designs that she has created. Given Sarah’s gift and passion for geometry, it is no coincidence that her father was a mathematician.

Quilt designs by Sarah Nishiura. She loves figuring out how to warp a grid or shift proportions.
Photo courtesy of Sarah Nishiura

Yanagi Muneyoshi, the founder of the Mingei movement once wrote in an essay titled “Nature of Folk-Crafts” that the most essential quality of folk-craft is its nationality, because it directly reflects the life of that nation. When Sarah remarked that  “a quilt is made of many different materials that all have to be made to play nice together”, this made me think about the openness and inclusiveness of quilts and how synonymous it is with America, where the quilting tradition thrives to the present day with more than 16 million quilt makers.

A quilt’s most special quality is its intimacy. “The desire to play with geometric pattern is only one part of the game” says Sarah Nishiura.

I understand why Sarah does not want her quilts high up on walls, but want you to keep it close and take them into your hands. It is because the most special quality of her beautiful work is in its humility and intimacy.