Category: People

Beginning of Summer
Approximately May 5th – 20th

May 5, 202272 Seasons Essays Chieko (Calligraphy)

Frogs Start to Cry

When I was a little girl, I never saw my father during the week because he left for work before the children woke up and came home after we went to sleep. When he was home on the weekends, he was always very tired. If my sisters and I begged him to play, he would often suggest, “sure, let’s pretend to nap,” at which point we immediately refused and ran off. When we returned, we found our father snoring on the tatami mat with my baby sister on his side. She was a constant victim to his scheme because she quickly fell asleep “pretending” next to my father.

I think many Japanese salaryman fathers in the 1970s were just like mine, overworked and exhausted, because, it seemed, they were on a mission to contribute to Japan’s rapid growth and industrialization. My father couldn’t play with us often and, ironically, that’s the reason I vividly remember the times when he did. We played badminton in the car park and the Reversi board game that was popular in Japan at the time. These times were fun, but out of all the things I did with my father, I enjoyed singing with him the most.

My father had tuberculosis when he was in high school that almost took his life, and he lost a part of his lung through an operation. A big scar remains across his back that always surprised people when we went to the swimming pool together. When we were very young, my father told us that the scar was made by a big cat that clawed at him in a dark alley. So we never went into dark alleys.

After spending two years in the hospital, the doctor suggested to my father to take up singing as therapy to improve his lung capacity and breathing. My father obediently joined a choir for several years and because of this, he loved to sing and taught us many songs.

The Frogs’ Song (kaeruno uta) was one of the first songs that everyone, including my little sister, could sing because it was simple and short. Like the song “row, row, row your boat”, the song is sung in a round and as a child I thought that we really sounded like a group of frogs when we sang the “gwa gwa” part together. Until recently, I was convinced that this song was Japanese in origin but discovered to my surprise that the melody is from a German folk song from the 19th century called Froschgesang.

For my father’s work, our young family moved to the suburban areas of Kanagawa, Fukuoka, and Chiba in a span of a few years. In Chiba, there were many rice paddies close to our apartment. In the early summer when these fields were filled with water, a massive chorus of frogs could be heard. These frogs laid eggs that looked like delicate strings of beads covered in jelly.

Once, my friend and I went to look for tadpoles in the rice paddies after daycare. We loudly sang the Frogs’ Song in an endless loop as we walked in our rain boots because this never-ending song was perfect for our childish persistence, and we were happy that no adult was telling us to stop. When we arrived at the rice paddies, we saw many tadpoles swimming in the shallow warm water.

Some tadpoles had already started to grow legs. We gently scooped a few in our hands and flipped them to look at the spirals in their bellies. We were completely absorbed in our play until my friend tried to take a step and lost her boot in the mud. We pulled and pulled to retrieve it, but the suction of the mud was too strong. Soon the boot disappeared completely into the mud, and we had to give up because the five o’clock song played from the loudspeakers and this was the time that we had to go home.

My friend used my shoulder to hop on her single booted foot, so we trudged very slowly. As darkness began to fall, we started sobbing quietly as we walked. I felt responsible for her boot and hoped that her mother won’t scold her for losing it. I was also worried that my mother would be angry when I got home covered in mud.

I can’t remember my friend’s name now, or what happened after we got home that evening. Shortly after the incident, my friend moved away because her father had to work in Kansai. My father also stopped singing because the opportunities simply disappeared from our lives as we grew up. Now when I hear frogs cry, I think about singing the Frog’s Song with my father, and the little orange rain boot stuck in the rice paddy field.

Essays for the 72 Microseasons with Calligraphy by Chieko

May 5, 202272 Seasons Essays Chieko (Calligraphy)

2022 marks the 10th anniversary of my small business. I was so excited to embark on this endeavor after waiting 8 years for a green card that finally allowed me to work in the US. For this anniversary year, I wanted to push myself to write more as I find the whole writing process difficult. So I was delighted when I found the perfect literary enkindler: the 72 microseasons of old Japan.

When Meiji Japan replaced its calendar in 1872 as it sought to modernize and catch up with the rest of the world, many of the seasons expressed in the traditional version were no longer used in the new Gregorian calendar. In the old lunar calendar called kyureki, the year was divided into four seasons with each season sub-divided into three mini-seasons called sekki. But the most curious aspect of the kyureki were ko or microseasons that further divided each sekki into three, making a grand total of 72 microseasons in a year.

“East wind melts the ice” microseason marking the beginning of spring around February 4th-8th calligraphy by Chieko

The 72 microseasons are fascinating because they have names like “east wind melts the ice” and “barley ripens” that literally depict subtle but distinct phenomenon in the surrounding nature. They are a testament to our farming history and how our ancestors lived close to the land that they depended upon. These days most Japanese have never heard of these microseasons, but in the last decade there has been a renewed interest with numerous books and online content published on the topic.

These microseasons have had the profound effect of triggering my memories in unique and personal ways. From childhood, summer has been my favorite season of the year and since today, May 5^th, marks the start of summer in the Japanese calendar, it is the perfect day to begin recounting them. I hope that you will find my stories interesting and in some way intersect with your own experiences because I feel that it is my lifework to create deeper connections by communicating delicate gradations and subtleties of thought that transcends culture and language.

My essays will be accompanied by the vivid calligraphy of the 72 microseasons by Chieko, the mother of a good friend, who is a contemporary Japanese calligrapher currently residing in Kanagawa prefecture. Chieko first put ink on paper more than 70 years ago and her talent was soon recognized by her teacher who encouraged her to pursue the art form. She later studied under Kumagai Tsuneko (1893-1989), a renowned contemporary calligrapher at Daito Bunka University, who also taught calligraphy to the Japanese Empress Michiko.

Kanamoji calligraphy by Chieko
Hananoirowa utsurinikerina itazurani wagamiyonifuru nagameseshimani
by Ono no Komachi (9th Century poet)
100 waka poems by 100 poets

Some of the100 poems by 100 poets karuta in kanamoji by Chieko

Chieko’s love is for kanamoji calligraphy, a graceful and unique writing style using Japanese alphabets that were developed during the Heian Period (794-1192). However, for this 72 microseasons project, I requested Chieko to write the seasons in Kanji using regular to semi-cursive script, so that they will be legible and entice many people, even beginners learning kanji, to engage.

In creating the 72 microseasons calligraphy, Chieko used three kinds of ink: chaboku (brown ink), seiboku (blue ink), and kuro (black ink), which are rubbed on wet stone to release the pigments. Each piece is created quickly and deliberately because calligraphy is an ephemeral art form with no opportunity to make changes later.

For Chieko, the brushes are extensions of her hand and her work expresses her heart. Her immense focus lets the brush move freely, creating work that powerfully provokes strong emotions.

Calligraphy, while intrinsically imbuing meaning, leaves space for the imagination of the viewer that actual landscape photos do not. It is not necessary to be able to read the characters. Instead, please enjoy the flow, contrast, composition, and grace of the strokes, just like you would enjoy a painting.

Continue to read the 72 microseasons essay “Beginning of Summer” ->

Tsutsu Tea Bowl, Ohinasama Dolls, and the Rhythm of Seasonal Delight

February 18, 2022Topics Tea (Chado) Mitch Iburg

Ceramics by Mitch Iburg in our shop ->

During the month of February, a narrow and deep tea bowl called “tsutsujyawan” is used to prepare thin tea in Chanoyu, the Japanese Way of Tea. The word tsutsu means cylinder, and I was told that the reason for using this type of tea bowl, whose design makes it near-impossible to whisk and create good foam, is to retain the heat of the tea so that guests can enjoy it hot at the coldest time of the year.

Although I’m skeptical how effective the shape is for keeping the tea hot, the tsutsu tea bowl symbolizes “mid-winter,” and also implies that spring is just around the corner. And getting people into the spirit of the season through the use of seasonal utensils is an important aspect in Chanoyu.

Thinking about tsutsujyawan made me a little sad because I realized that I have not been able to practice tea with my teacher for the past two years because of Covid. Another year will pass before I’ll be able to prepare tea in her beautiful Mishima tsutsujyawan, an ash glazed bowl with white slip inlay decorations that comes out of a little paulownia box only once a year.

I’m surprised to catch myself feeling this nostalgia because, when I was growing up, I thought all this seasonal stuff was such a waste of time, especially the Ohinasama dolls decorations that come out of boxes in February to celebrate Girls’ Day on March 3^rd. Families with daughters display dolls depicting a married couple in celebration of the Peach Flower Festival, which is also known as the Doll festival.

My parents originally had a simple Ohinasama comprised of a dressed-up couple already glued in position side by side in a glass case with a fitting box. Then my mother won a spectacular nanadan kazari (seven-tiered Ohinasama) in a giveaway by a radio station in the late 1970s. I still clearly remember the day she won it. We were having breakfast before going to school when the radio host started reading a letter from a mother of three daughters who could not afford a nanadan kazari…, at which point my overjoyed mother screamed, “that’s me!”

A few months later, several large boxes arrived at our house containing the nanadan kazari. The decoration was huge with a total of 15 dolls, equipped with miniature furniture for the bride, and because it took up most of our living room, it was totally incongruous. We were all excited to decorate them for the first few years, then gradually lost interest, except my mother. Her enthusiasm for the hard-won Ohinasama continued and she insisted that we take the whole set to Singapore when my father was transferred there for work several years later.

Nanadan Kazari Ohinasama in Singapore in the 1980s

Year after year, the Ohinasama came out of the boxes in tropical Southeast Asia and went back into the boxes promptly on March 4th. This is due to the superstition that daughters will not be able to get married for a long time if the dolls are left out past March 3^rd. I think I was not alone in questioning if a happy and early marriage should be my primary goal in life, but more than that, I dreaded the task of boxing and unboxing these dolls and wished that they stayed in their boxes forever.

These days the Girls’ Day spirit of the season does not arrive unless I step up to the task of taking out the Ohinasama. My older sister in Japan inherited the nanadan kazari for her daughters, but whether they are out of boxes right now is unknown and I dare not ask.

Amazake, sweet beverage made from rice and malted rice; and sanshokudango, three-colored mochi sweets are some of the foods eaten for Hinamatsuri. I have yet to meet a child who likes amazake.

When I pull out my own little Ohinasama and put it on a shelf, I think back to the time we decorated the nanadan kazari. We could never remember where all the dolls went, and it was fun figuring them out with my sisters. Many friends came over to our apartment to take pictures in front of the dolls because few people had such a display. Over the years, the Ohinasama evolved into a marker of the coming of spring and its subsequent gatherings.

Which brings me back to my Tea teacher’s tsutsujyawan. The winter tea bowl is just one example of many utensils that are taken out and put away throughout the year, just as with my family’s Ohinasama. Like Christmas lights in December, these symbols give support to the traditions that anchor us and provide stability and comfort. I think that perhaps the Way of Tea is also a training in resilience to repeat these traditions. Through the simple act of preparing tea, we are learning to step up and to bring people together. I’m keenly looking forward to resuming the practice with my teacher, which shouldn’t be too far away now. She has been hanging the lights patiently for over 50 years.

That Delicious Steam

February 4, 2022Ceramics Tokoname Yamada Yutaro

Tokoname clay teapots by Yamada Yutaro in our shop->

Tokoname flat kyusu and hohin teapots by Yamada Yutaro

Tea consumption goes up 5 fold during the winter in my house. Hot tea for warmth is only part of the reason, because I’m also in pursuit of the delicious steam during these coldest months of the year.
New Tokoname teapots by Yamada Yutaro for your tea and steam in Entoten shop today.

Tokoname teacup and teapot by Yamada Yutaro

Traceable Cedar Chopsticks from Fukui for The Festive Table

November 28, 2021Wood Food and Craft Style Of Japan

Cedar chopsticks by Style Of Japan in our shop->

Traceable cedar chopsticks from Fukui prefecture (plate by Kazu Oba)

I have only been to the Japanese coastal prefecture of Fukui once when I was still a university student. Having plenty of time but not much money, I remember being excited discovering a cheap pop-up soup shop in a fish market where they served isaza, the small, clear fish that turns white when they are cooked whole in miso soup and served piping hot. That spring was the last time I got to taste the delicious isaza soup because like many regional dishes in Japan, you must be at the right place at the right time to enjoy them.

Fukui is most well known for its nature and dramatic coastal scenery, a nuclear power plant, the high-quality eyeglasses of Sabae City where the titanium type was first produced, and for the chopsticks of Obama City; the kind that are coated with urushi, with patterns created from eggshells and seashells. You may faintly remember that Obama City appeared in the international news in 2008 when the then senator and later 44th U.S. President found support and connections in unexpected faraway places.

You may also wonder why I brought simple cedar chopsticks from the region famous for urushi. It is because I find coated chopsticks slippery and difficult to pick up food, and I also prefer being able to feel the texture of wood that gets obscured by coating.

I was therefore very excited when I discovered Style of Japan (SOJ), a Japanese company that produces chopsticks in Obama, a region where 80% of coated chopsticks in Japan are produced. The local chopsticks are known as Wakasa Nuribashi, but almost none of them are completely made in Fukui. Wood milled abroad but processed in Japan can bare the label “made in Japan” and little is disclosed about where the imported wood comes from.

“We’ve been shifting to source local wood from Fukui for our most popular product lines, mainly by incorporating wood harvested from local forests through conservational thinning and management”, said Omori Kaz, the President and CEO of SOJ. Their popular “OEDO” line of coated chopsticks use wood certified by the Programme for the Endorsement of Forest Certification (PEFC), an international organization that promotes sustainable forest management.

PEFC certified wood harvested in Fukui prefecture. Photo Courtesy of Style Of Japan

This past summer, SOJ introduced the “Yu” line of cedar chopsticks through Makuake, a Japanese crowd funding website like gofundme. The project was fully funded and the chopsticks went into production. “Yu” chopsticks are made using traceable local cedar that are PEFC certified, and they also go further by providing certificates with information such as the age and size of the tree, the region and timing they were harvested, and the woodworker and nushi, the crafts specialist who applies the coating to the wood. “We want to make chopsticks with more transparency in the process, by utilizing local wood and by providing the names of woodworkers and nushi, and also the wood source and the coating material,” Omori san explained.

For me, Yu’s design and finish are its most profound and appealing aspects. The end of a Yu chopstick is square so that it sits comfortably between the index finger and the thumb. The section held with the fingers is octagonal, providing a comfortable grip. The tip is tapered to a circle making it easy to pick up the tiniest pieces of food. They are also coated with beeswax, which I think is the best type of protective coating for any wood used around the table that retains its texture, the most exquisite and often overlooked property of wood.

Applying beeswax to chopsticks. Photo Courtesy of Style Of Japan

Omori san observed that, “as Japanese people now regularly use knives and forks [in addition to chopsticks], I believe that families that mainly use knives and forks will also start to regularly use chopsticks in the future. When that time comes, I hope that people will choose our chopsticks that are sourced responsibly and produces less carbon emissions.”

In Japan, people often use new chopsticks for their new year’s feast so I’m looking forward to opening a new pair of Yu on New Year’s Day that is just a few weeks away. And dream about Fukui’s isaza soup that I hope to taste once more when we can again travel freely. I wish you all a healthy and happy 2022!

The Unfolding: Ceramics by Takahashi Nami

October 14, 2021Ceramics Takahashi Nami

Ceramics by Takahashi Nami in our shop ->

A flower bud yet to open is more desirable to display in a Japanese tearoom than one already in bloom. When a camellia in a vase opened too quickly during practice, my tea teacher exclaimed, “it was closed half an hour ago but it’s already open!”

I find that it is uniquely Japanese to prefer a bud holding its potential within over the prominent display of a blossom in its prime. Ceramic artist Takahashi Nami’s work is an expression of this distinct Japanese aesthetic.

Porcelain vase by Japanese ceramic artist Takahashi Nami. The Japanese prefer displaying a bud holding its potential within than over the prominent display of a blossom in its prime.

“I’m strongly attracted to the beautiful lines and forms of seeds, fruits, and flower buds found in nature,” Nami said, when I asked her about what inspires her work. Nami’s work is created using slip molds by casting plaster models in a ceramics technique called slip casting. “The forms and lines are of utmost importance in my work,” Nami continued, “and slip casting is best suited to create the desired forms and lines in porcelain.”

Nami grew up in Tokyo and vaguely wanted to become an artist at a very young age because she loved drawing. In 7th grade, her art teacher introduced her to ceramics when she became infatuated with clay and decided that she wanted to work as a ceramic artist in the future. She chose to attend Musashino Art University Junior College of Art and Design in Tokyo to study ceramics.

Takahashi Nami’s porcelain vases are asymmetrical from all angles. Each piece is slip cast, and a fretsaw is used to remove excess clay on the surface while it is still leather hard. When they are dry, Nami uses boxcutter blades and sandpaper to smooth out the surfaces and sharpen the edges before bisque firing.

After graduating in 1997, Nami continued to study ceramic sculpture at the National School of Ceramic Art (Istituto Statale d’Arte per la Ceramica) in Faenza, Italy, for two years. “In the Japanese university I mostly learned to make tableware, but I was always interested in ceramic sculptures, so I decided to go to Italy,” she said. She made terracotta sculptures because she liked the clay’s texture and tones. “The colorful and unique forms and free expressions of Italian ceramics was so interesting,” she recalls.

Nami was also exposed to exhibits of prominent Japanese contemporary ceramic artists at the International Museum of Ceramics, which was right next door to her school in Faenza. She saw works by Raku Kichizaemon XV (Jikinyu) and Fukami Sueharu. “Seeing the work of Japanese ceramic artists while studying abroad made me realize the exceptional quality of Japanese ceramics,” Nami said. So after finishing her course in Faenza, Nami decided to return to Japan to establish her studio.

In Japan, Nami started working with porcelain because she had a yearning to work with white clay. She initially made sculptural installations for art galleries, but soon began creating tableware at the request of other galleries. “I made sculptures and tableware but avoided making teaware and tea bowls,” Nami recalls, “because I felt they were very noble types of wares, with many rules, and I was very afraid that people would be critical.”

A kiln loaded with tableware and shelves with slip molds in the ceramic studio of Takahashi Nami
Photo courtesy of Takahashi Nami

But that all changed when Hayashiya Seizo (1928-2017) –the best description of Hayashiya’s work is to use Google translate on this page–a prominent tea master, ceramics expert, and former curator of Tokyo National Museum, became interested in Nami’s work and encouraged her to make tea bowls. Since then, Nami has been working to develop larger vessels for the tearoom while receiving advice from other tea masters.

This development in Nami’s work led to numerous accolades. In 2016, she was selected as The Best New Artist at the 63rd Japan Kogei Crafts Exhibition, and in 2018 was awarded Grand Prize at the 11th Tea Ceramics Exhibition at the Toki City Cultural Promotion Foundation. “To be encouraged by an expert like Hayashiya Sensei was a huge push forward,” Nami explained about her jump into tea ceramics. Through Hayashiya, Nami had the chance to hold some of the most famous historic tea bowls, including Muichimotsu by Raku Chojiro. Hayashiya encouraged Nami to see and touch teaware, insisting that they can only be understood by holding them by hand.

Porcelain tea container by Takahashi Nami

And the most surprising aspect of Nami’s work is the warmth of the matte porcelain with sculptural and crisp lines. “I borrow the capacity of soft white clay to express beauty found in nature,” Nami explained about the power of her material. Her work opened my eyes to the unexpected ability of porcelain to capture the tenderness of a budding flower. When you hold her work in your hands, I guarantee that you will be filled with anticipation for them to unfold.

A close up of a sake pourer and cups by Takahashi Nami

Thank You for Coming to The Den to Meet Potter Kazu Oba

September 7, 2021Events, Workshops and Webinars Ceramics Kazu Oba

Entoten’s craft pop-up at The Den on Laurel Street over Labor Day weekend was a huge success! Thank you for taking the time to come and meet Kazu and to support his work. For those of you who couldn’t make it, here are some photos of the event, taken by our friend Tomoko Matsubayashi.

I hope to organize another pop-up event at the Den this December, so look forward to seeing you then.

Entoten Fundraiser for Mingei International Museum with Limited Edition Tea Whisks by Tanimura Tango

August 21, 2021Mingei Tea (Chado) Tanimura Tango

Mingei Museum Fundraiser Tea Whisks by Tanimura Tango in our shop ->

Museums play a major role in defining a city, and as I await the reopening of the Mingei International Museum on September 3rd, 2021, I have never been as excited for San Diego as I am now.

The reason for my anticipation is because I dream of San Diego becoming a city where people deeply appreciate the social and spiritual significance of craft, and with the fresh energy of the revitalized Mingei Museum, it will become a destination for people in search of design and craft inspirations. I would also like to believe that it is no coincidence that I live in a city where the only Mingei museum outside of Japan is located.

New entrance to the Mingei International Museum from Alcazar garden, Balboa Park

The Mingei International’s management, headed by director Rob Sidner and aided by architect Jennifer Luce, designed the new museum with an open ground floor. It is intended to become a “living room” for Balboa Park where representative objects from the collection will always be on view, free of charge, for anyone to experience craft from many cultures. The space will also be equipped with a café, bistro, and shop: Becoming a museum that serves as a place for people to gather, eat, and drink or to simply be.

Photo of the ground floor of the Mingei International Museum during construction in June 2021. The Margaret A. Cargill Commons aka “The Commons” will have multiple entrances and will be free for all visitors to the park.
Photo Courtesy of Mingei International Museum

Featuring careful use of materials and excellent craftsmanship within the fabric of its design, the newly renovated museum will be an important addition to our local community and cultural identity. But the cost to pay for this grand transformation has yet to be fully funded, so, as an expression of community support for the museum, I asked 20th generation master tea whisk maker, Tanimura Tango in Nara, Japan, to create limited-edition tea whisks (chasen) in the color scheme of Mingei International Museum to organize a modest fundraiser.

Mingei fundraiser limited edition chasen by Tanimura Tango in Navy and Orange strings.

Mingei fundraiser chasen in navy and orange strings (stripes version)

Tanimura Tango’s tea whisk is one of the articles that the Mingei International Museum added to its collection in 2020. His shin-kazuho chasen was also included in the Mingei time capsule this January, together with select Museum publications and other undisclosed objects to commemorate the occasion. This makes his work the perfect symbol for this fundraiser.

Filling the Mingei International Time capsule, January 27th, 2021.
From left, Library & Archives Manager Kristi Ehrig-Burgess, Director Rob Sidner, Deputy Director Jessica York
Photo courtesy of Mingei International Museum

To me, the tea whisk is an allegory for craft that connects us to people across history -over 500 years- and cultures whose collective labor has given it form. In a world that places so much value on speed and immediacy, it is also a powerful reminder that we should strive to build a culture that does not easily forget.

Please help me raise $1000 to donate to the museum that will include all the proceeds from the sale of these limited-edition tea whisks. The whisks are made of white bamboo in shin-kazuho style, a tried and tested design that is highly durable while creating fine foam on top of your matcha when used. It is the same style that is used by the grandmaster of the largest tea school in Japan.

Lastly, thank you very much for your support for my fundraiser. I hope that this blog post will entice you to include San Diego in the list of places that you will visit in the future.

Mingei International Museum reopens over Labor Day weekend
Free admission, September 3rd – 6th
For more information or to donate directly to the museum, please visit their website

Mingei fundraiser chasen in navy and orange strings (Checkered version)

A Unifying Respect: New Ceramics by Mitch Iburg

August 9, 2021Ceramics Mitch Iburg

Ceramics by Mitch Iburg in our shop ->

Minnesota-based potter Mitch Iburg’s latest collection of work is quiet, with simple forms and surfaces. The work reminded me of the unglazed and mostly undecorated Yayoi period pottery in Japan’s ancient history, an era generally accepted to be between 300 BCE and 300 CE. When I told him this, Mitch reminisced about the time we first connected in 2014 and said, “[back then] my interest was more in the very aggressive and bold wood fire surfaces.”

Ceramics by Mitch Iburg made in 2021 with foraged Minnesota clay, sand, and minerals.

Wood fired Tokkuri made by Mitch Iburg in 2014, when Mitch was more interested in melted ash deposits on wood-fired work

I enjoy looking at Yayoi pottery. Whenever I visit Tokyo’s National Museum, I’m one of the few visitors pottering around in the dark and deserted first floor of the museum’s Heiseikan wing where there is a chronologically arranged exhibition of Japanese archeology. I have often wondered what caused the drastic change in the style of pottery from Jomon (14000-300 BCE), which was highly decorated with ostentatious forms, to Yayoi that is very minimal and often with no decorations.

Stem cup from the Yayoi period ca. 100–300 H. 4 3/4 in. (12.1 cm) D. 3 7/16 in. (8.8 cm) Earthenware
Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

“After firing in mostly electric kilns for a few years I get much more joy from the simple qualities of the natural clay,” Mitch explained. “Much of the historical work I find myself drawn to these days has a similar quality.” The Minneapolis Institute of Art has a collection of Chinese Han dynasty vessels, Korean Silla ware, African vessels, and several works from the Jomon and Yayoi periods, and Mitch says he discovers something new from them every time he visits the museum.

Tokkuri with Kaolinitic clay finish by Mitch Iburg, 2021

After learning what inspires Mitch, I realized that the draw of Mitch’s work and Yayoi pottery is the unspoken respect for the character of the surface. Mitch evolved to prefer the natural beauty of the exterior without obscuring it with ash, and perhaps the Yayoi people grew to enjoy the clay surface without decorations. Regardless of the era and background, people can identify simple, unpretentious beauty. And we can all share our fascination for the Earth and its history.

Transparent, Translucent, and Opaque: New Glasswork by Ishida Tami

August 2, 2021Glass Ishida Tami

Glass by Ishida Tami in our shop ->

When I walk my dog before sunrise in San Diego’s Mission Bay, the sky along the Pacific coast sometimes displays spectacular bands of colors. When that happens, I take a picture and send it to the glass artist Ishida Tami because I think of her work.

The sky before sunrise in Mission Bay, January 2021.

“The beauty of what nature creates is unrivaled and there is no way to even imitate it. But I want my work to stir the imagination in people,” Tami explained about what motivates her. Tami creates blown glass with layers of powdered glass coatings that are cut and intensely polished on the surface, a unique technique that she developed while studying the works of ancient Sasanian glassmakers.

Combining colors is the most difficult aspect in creating her work and Tami readily admits that she often makes mistakes. “Glass can be opaque, translucent, transparent, and the sizes of glass powder and their melting speeds and manufacturers can vary,” Tami said in summarizing the complex process and infinite combinations that are possible.

Tami used three different types of black glass in four different grain sizes to create work in the batch for Entoten

For example, Tami used three different types of black glass in four different grain sizes in the latest batch of work that she made for Entoten. “Black goes well with vivid colors so I used black many times in this batch of work,” she said. “I’m happy that delicate expressions of layers can be achieved with them.”

Tami has recently been finding inspirations for colors and layers of glass in natural stones, like agates with patterns on the cut surface. And while researching agates, she stumbled upon “The Writing of Stones,” a book by the late French intellectual Roger Caillois. “I thought that maybe we were inspired in a similar way by these rocks,” she said about the book. “But the vast imagination that Caillois derived from the interior of these stones was astonishing.”

A closer look of the foot of a glass vessel by Ishida Tami

Tami chuckled that she thought she was skilled at fantasizing until she read Caillois’ book and was amazed that he was far better at it. “My thoughts as I create are evolving little by little, even if that isn’t apparent now. But I hope to create work that would reflect this progression in the future,” she said. The transformation is already visible in her current work that are distinctly her own.