Category: Shumpei Yamaki

Wood Firing in ‘Flow State’: New Ceramics by Shumpei Yamaki

ENTOTEN Gallery Event Ceramics Shumpei Yamaki

New ceramics by Shumpei Yamaki in our shop ->

Shumpei Yamaki at Entoten Gallery, San Diego CA,
October 26, 2019, 12:00-5:00 pm

A few months ago, I was communicating with potter Shumpei Yamaki from Iowa about his forthcoming reception and show at Entoten’s Gallery in San Diego in late October. Amid our discussion, he cheerfully wrote: “Oh, by the way, I’m going to fire the kiln without using a thermometer or pyrometric cones this time!”

Unlike many potters that load similar sized items in groups inside the kiln, Shumpei Yamaki mixes the arrangement of vessels without consideration for size and shape.
Photo courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki

Thermometers and cones measure when the kiln reaches the desired temperature, and almost all potters use them to make sure that the firing is progressing as expected.

I did not say this to him, but my immediate response to Shumpei’s audacious decision was why not use the thermometer and cones as reassurance? Was it really necessary to not use them at all? Shumpei though has been firing with wood for the last decade, so there was little doubt that he knew what he was doing, so I kept quiet.

The inside of Shumpei’s fully loaded kiln. Most of the pots are not bisqued.
Photo courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki, September 2019

“I really want to be completely immersed in the firing and ‘be one’ with my kiln”, Shumpei answered when I called him after he had concluded the firing at the end of September. “It was amazing. I now know what it means to meet the ‘kiln god’!” Shumpei said excitedly about the experience.

Usually, between 60 and 70 percent of the pots get covered in ash deposits, glossiness and markings in a single firing, which are the desired effects of wood-fired pots. But this time, almost every piece had these effects. It was the most successful firing that Shumpei had in his entire potting career.

Shumpei Yamaki fires his kiln for 4 days + 4 hrs. The kiln is fired twice a year.
Photo courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki

Shumpei is convinced that this success was due to not using the thermometer and cones. “I knew I was doing everything right, but when I was using the thermometer and the cones, it was difficult to focus. And when I am distracted, I do unnecessary things like opening the kiln door more often to check the surfaces of the pots or stoking for fear that the temperature is falling. It was like I wasn’t really trusting my kiln,” he mused.

The inside of Shumpei’s wood-firing kiln after firing. Photo courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki, September 2019

Shumpei further explained that “usually at the climax of the firing, when the kiln reaches 2,300 degrees or more, things are crazy because we have to constantly stoke. If we space out even for 5 minutes, the temperature will drop. But this time, it was like the kiln fired itself and I just assisted it. It was so peaceful, and when I added wood, I saw the blue flame that indicates that the kiln is very hot. Usually there is a lot of smoke, this time there was hardly any. It was like the kiln took everything that the wood had to offer. It was the most magical experience!”

Now let me briefly offer some scientific perspectives. “Flow-state” was defined by Psychologist Mihály Csíkszentmihályi in his 1990 book as the “optimal state of consciousness where we feel our best and perform our best.” There is a BBC article on the physical and psychological benefits of getting into this state. Shumpei said he wanted to reach this state of mind during the firing and achieved it.

The pots that came out of the firing in September 2019.
Photo courtesy of Shumpei Yamaki

After talking to Shumpei, I also realized that I had experienced something very similar while preparing tea in chanoyu (also known as the tea ceremony – but I personally prefer this word). As I prepared the tea, my body moved exactly how it should, and I could make a bowl of tea without thinking. It took several years of learning chanoyu to experience it, but I felt ecstatic afterwards. This is one of the reasons why I am now completely hooked to tea.

Which brings me back to the earlier question: was it necessary for Shumpei to eliminate the thermometer and cones? Yes, absolutely.

Kintsugi: An Ancient Japanese Repairing Technique Using Urushi Lacquer

Ayumi Horie Kintsugi Shumpei Yamaki

Kintsugi repaired pots in our shop->

Kintsugi is a Japanese method to repair tableware that has its roots in traditional urushi lacquerware making technique. In recent years, I have seen many images of ceramics with golden cracks labeled ‘kintsugi’  on the Internet, but unfortunately many are not real kintsugi.

I appreciate that the Japanese term is getting known in the US and internationally. It allows for people to be more curious about Japanese craft and aesthetics in general, and that is a good thing.  But I also want to clarify that a significant amount of time and expensive materials are needed to master the true kintsugi technique. So for the sake of the skilled craftsmen that practice it, I feel that pots with painted gold color lines, or broken pots repaired with epoxy and gold mica powder should not be labeled as “kintsugi.” 

Kintsugi repaired salt cellar made in collaboration with potter Ayumi Horie and woodworker Blackcreek Mercantile & Trading Co. It took months to organize the collaboration in 2014, because each wooden lid had to be custom-turned to fit each pot.
Small broken pieces of pottery were saved and used in repairing the container. The kintsugi repair was carried out by a 4th generation Yamanaka lacquerware craftsman in Kaga, Ishikawa prefecture. This gold finish is unpolished.
The pot before Kintsugi repair. I was devastated when I broke it while trying to photograph it

In true Kintsugi, the adhesive sap extracted from a lacquer tree (urushi) is used to piece the broken pieces together. In its wet state, this sap can cause severe allergies when touched.

When I was in primary school, I was taught to avoid the low trees with compound leaves on red branches that maybe urushi. And even then, I fell victim to the urushi allergy several times playing in the woods. The acute itchiness that often struck while sleeping was the worst torture that you can experience. This is a risk that every kintsugi craftsman faces while handling their material.

A piece of Urushi trunk and the tools used to collect its sap.

Urushi is also a very peculiar material that dries by absorbing moisture. Many layers must be applied, with each layer requiring time for hardening in a damp environment. Once urushi hardens, it is extremely durable, and can withstand the likes of acids, alcohol, and hot and cold water.

The gold is applied by sprinkling powder gold on top of a layer of urushi while still wet. This lacquerware technique is called makie, an ancient method to decorate the surface with beautiful gold designs that became very popular during the Edo (1603-1868)  period. The earliest example of the makie technique can be seen on the sheath of a Chinese style sword from the 7th to 8th Centuries in the Shosoin collection. Shosoin is a treasure house that belongs to the Todai-ji temple in Nara.

Kintsugi is not about putting the broken pieces together with gold for appearance. It is about repairing something that is irreplaceable with urushi lacquer, a uniquely durable natural material that has been time-tested over many centuries. The layer of gold is to cover its dark appearance, and because gold is a non-reactive metal, the vessel may be used for eating and drinking. Other less-reactive metals like silver can also be used.

Gintsugi, or gin-naoshi repair on the lip of a wood-fired tea bowl by Shumpei Yamaki
The tea bowl had a very beautiful and rare green ash effect with contrasting dark surfaces from the effect of ember. A part of the lip broke when the bowl was removed from the kiln where the ash dripped.

Considering the cost and the time required to repair the vessels, it is obvious that most broken pots are not worth repairing with kintsugi. But I think it’s a unique and appropriate way to repair a special piece of broken pottery that is irreplaceable or of immense sentimental value that you wish to keep and use for many years.

Kabocha in a Black Shallow Bowl By Shumpei Yamaki: Are You Eating the Skin?

Ceramics Food and Craft Shumpei Yamaki

Ceramics by Shumpei Yamaki in our shop ->

When I was 5 years old, a guest stayed at our little apartment in Japan. In the morning, my mother served the usual breakfast of grilled salted salmon with miso soup and rice. Seeing that the guest carefully removed the skin of the salmon and left it on their plate, my young unfiltered mouth blurted out: “wah, you don’t eat the skin? It’s really tasty you know, it’s the best part…what a waste (mottainai)!”.

My mother to this day talks about this episode and how embarrassing it was for her because it was obvious that I wanted the guest to give me the salmon skin if they were not eating it. And for a long time after the incident, there was an uncomfortable glare coming from my mother whenever I sat down with guests at the dining table.

Kabocha pumpkin in a wood-fired black bowl by Shumpei Yamaki. Black is a great background for colorful fall vegetables and fruits.

Speaking of skin, the other food that I like to eat right now with skin are the kabocha pumpkins that are coming into season.

To prepare kabocha, I cut them up into generous chunks with the skin and put them in a shallow braising pan in a single layer. Then I add about ¼ -½ inch of water, drizzle a little olive oil, and sprinkle salt, cover and boil for about 10-12 minutes. The key is that there is enough water to boil and slowly reduce. After turning the stove off, all the water gets absorbed into the pumpkin leaving no liquid. I prefer this simple preparation to the normal Japanese recipe that calls for sake, sugar and soy sauce because I find that recipe too sweet.

Cooking in a braising pan with just enough water to be absorbed back into the pumpkin pieces.

The result are firm chunks of delicious pumpkin pieces that can be eaten hot or cold. And the best part is the contrast of texture between the skin and the pumpkin meat!

Whenever I’m served peeled kabocha, I say loudly in my head “mottainai“! And, you may be surprised that there are things that people eat with skin in the US that almost all Japanese don’t, such as peaches. The first time I saw my husband eat peaches with skin, I was horrified. Japanese generally like to eat fruit without skin, and I should do some research as to why this is for another blog post. In the meantime, enjoy your kabocha with skin, and maybe also your salmon skin? Otherwise, MOTTAINAI!

Kabocha pumpkin. Don’t remove the skin it’s the best part!

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.