Category: Travels

As April comes to an end in San Diego, the parks and beaches have begun to gradually reopen. This marks the beginning of what will be a very long and uncertain journey to ending our physical distancing that began what seems a lifetime ago in mid-March. But the start of Phase One is an opportune reason to celebrate, and I’m delighted to be able to do this with new ceramic work by Mike Martino from Karatsu, Japan.

In this latest batch, I requested mostly pieces with brushwork that include lovely shrimps, which over the years have become Mike’s signature symbol. I find his lovely rhythmical brush strokes very comforting and meditative to follow with my eyes and I hope you do too.

Large Shino Bowl by Mike Martino with his signature shrimp drawings.

I would like in particular to introduce one of Mike’s pieces that seem to capture our current state of being quite nicely. It is a ekaratsu (painted karatsu) bowl that has the calligraphy letters “kochu nichi getsu nagashi (壺中日月長)” written on it. The literal translation of this Zen word is “the sun and the moon shine eternally inside a jar.”

This phrase was derived from an old Chinese anecdote of an elderly medicine vendor who always disappeared into a jar hanging in the front of his shop after the day’s work. Curious about where the old man was going every night, a local official befriended him and was able to get invited into the pot with him. Inside, the official found a vast palace with a large garden where the old man entertained the official with food and drink. After what seemed to be a whole day, the official returned to the real world to find out that decades had passed. The old medicine vender was an immortal ascetic.

Karatsu bowl with the calligraphy words “kochu nichigetsu nagashi” by Mike Martino

In Buddhist-speak, this may be interpreted as “the realm of enlightenment transcends time.” But I simply interpret this as “time is what you make of it” and unfortunately I fell out of making anything of it for a while during the seemingly unending lockdown. This was a sharp reminder that I was spending way too much time endlessly reading the dark news concerning the pandemic on my phone screen and feeling anxious. But I’m now finally crawling back into the jar.

Lastly, I’d like to add that a lot of time was squandered while I stared at Mike’s bowl trying to figure out which part of the calligraphy referred to the jar (壺), inside (中), sun (日), moon(月), and long (長), only to find that Mike wrote the whole Zen phrase in romanized Japanese. So now you can pronounce a sophisticated Zen saying in Japanese, and isn’t this a highly productive way of using your time?

Mike Martino is currently having an online sale of his work on his website in Japan 4/29-5/6/2020
(click here to visit his website).

The Master in the Redwoods: Pond Farm Pottery and the Legacy of Marguerite Wildenhain

March 20, 2020Ceramics Sonoma County Research

This past February, potter Bill Geisinger drove me to the rustic and eclectic town of Guerneville along the Russian river in Sonoma County in Northern California. During our car ride there, Bill related to me the logging history of Guerneville, the Bohemian Club, and its controversial grove retreat nearby, and soon, I found myself surrounded by the tall magnificent trees inside the Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve.

The majestic Redwood trees of Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve

As a transplant generation Xer, I had not heard of Pond Farm and Marguerite Wildenhain until Bill sent me a Wikipedia link about the farm prior to my visit. Upon reading it, I was excited to find out about this post-Second World War Californian colony for artists and to discover more about Marguerite, who was its resident artist and a Bauhaus-trained master potter.

Marguerite Wildenhain (1896-1985) was an American ceramic artist and educator. She was born in Lyon, France to a father of German descent and an English mother. Marguerite trained at the legendary Bauhaus school in Weimar, Germany from 1919 for 6 years under master potter Max Krehan and sculptor Gerhard Marcks. She emigrated to the U.S. to escape the Nazis with the help of American architect Gordon Herr and his wife Jane who wanted to establish an artist community in California.
(Click here to watch footage of Marguerite Wildenhain by Rollie Younger on YouTube)

Bill and I arrived early to stroll in the splendid redwood forest. As we walked, Bill said that he had wanted to bring me here because he thought Pond Farm would be a source of inspiration. He shared the story about his visit with Marguerite in the 1970s at the urging of his teacher James Lovera to learn how to make handles from her. Bill always surprises me with never-heard-of-before episodes like this in his life. After hearing Bill’s story, I complained that he rarely makes pots with handles these days, to which he laughed and agreed with my observation.

Entrance toThe Pond Farm Pottery in Guerneville, CA

Following our stroll, we visited Pond Farm with Michele Luna, the Executive Director of Stewards of the Coast and Redwoods, who kindly took the time to show us the compound. The Stewards are the managing member of a partnership for the preservation and revitalization of Pond Farm.

The barn at Pond Farm

“The barn workshop was where Marguerite taught her two-month summer classes every year, and the rest of the year she worked and lived alone in that small cabin,” Michele explained, as she pointed to a house that was closed for viewing due to its dilapidated state. There was also a guesthouse on the compound that Marguerite had built for her teacher from her Bauhaus days, Gerhard Marcks, for his visit to the farm in the 1950s. The guesthouse was recently renovated and is used to host resident artists in the summer.

The guesthouse at Pond Farm

As I stepped into Marguerite’s barn pottery workshop, I immediately felt I was in a familiar place: a studio built upon the artist’s complete devotion to the craft. Inside the barn, I observed the design of the studio and contemplated the system that Marguerite had developed for teaching to countless students each summer from 1949 to 1980.

Pottery studio of Marguerite Wildenhain at Pond Farm

In the now empty workshop, models of the pottery forms that students learned from Marguerite were still in place. I wondered how closely the classroom was designed to the legendary Bauhaus school where Marguerite had trained under master potters for up to 9 hours each day, 6 days a week, year after year.

The classroom inside the Pond Farm barn

After returning from Northern California, I borrowed “The Invisible Core: A Potter’s Life and Thoughts,” written by Marguerite from my local library. She states in the book that many of the students that came to her summer school were college and high school teachers. She writes perceptively that at Pond Farm, “we take great pains in teaching the basic and fundamental elements that go into making a good piece of pottery […] More than that: We have a stimulating exchange of ideas and often really excellent and exciting discussions about art, integrity, human values, life, pots, what it all means, and how they are related, how all these have to fuse in you to one total concept and to form.”

The forms that students practiced in stages during summer class at Pond Farm. Marguerite conducted systematic learning in a traditional master-to-apprentice training environment

The Bauhaus-style kick wheel at Pond Farm

At Pond Farm, I only saw a small kiln inside the barn. So I asked Michele where all of the pots were fired because Marguerite accepted up to 25 students at a time for her summer workshops. Michele explained that none of the work by the students were fired. I was very surprised to hear this because I could not believe that the students were content just to learn how to make pots and not finish making them.

The kiln used by Marguerite Wildenhain at Pond Farm. None of the work by the students that attended summer school were fired.

But after reading Marguerite’s book, I realized that what she taught, and what the students came from all over the country to learn, was not just about how to make pots but also what Marguerite called “the essential requirements that all valuable work need.” These essential requirements consisted of “work, time, patience, effort, and intense devotion and faith in the validity of this purpose.” She called it the “discipline not to betray the requirements of art.”

I told Bill that I found Marguerite’s words compelling and insightful. He agreed and said that “her book was my bible in the 70s.” Over the years, I’ve met and studied many highly regarded artists, and while they all excelled at their craft, most could only teach a very small number of apprentices in their lifetime, if at all. And even with the best of these artists, master-to-apprentice training can be disorganized and mystifying.

The simple cabin where Marguerite Wildenhain resided. The inside cannot be viewed at this time because of its dilapidated state.

Marguerite’s achievements stand out because she was committed to teaching generations of aspiring artists the essential way of life as an artist, and honing of the necessary skills through relentless training like that of apprenticeships. Her teaching took place in a systematic and enlightening environment. If this method originated from the Bauhaus school, it only existed for a handful of years, but Marguerite kept Pond Farm going single-handedly for over 30 years, so her impact cannot be overstated. Her former students, called Pond Farmers, include the likes of Dean Schwarz of South Bear School, and Professor Dorothy Bearnson of University of Utah.

I hope that this blog post will inspire you to learn more about the work of this extraordinary but largely forgotten American master potter and teacher. Marguerite sums up her life’s work in a short statement in her book:

A Marguerite Wildenhain bowl made in the mid-1970s at Pond Farm, Guerneville, California. This stoneware with colored slip, glaze and sgraffito design was acquired by Barbara Brown and kept on display in her home until 2018. At that time Barbara asked Bill Geisinger to take custody of the bowl until it can be displayed to the public at a museum. Barbara is a potter and the international ambassador for the Association of Clay and Glass Artists of California

“My life as a potter has taught me to know the short-lived values of mode and fashion trends, of prizes and “success.” As fleeting as clouds are publicity, fame and limelight, but the good pot will endure through the centuries because of its integrity, its sound and pure purpose, its original beauty, and especially because it is the indivisible, incorruptible, and complete expression of a human being.”

I am not a potter, but wished that I could have met Marguerite to ask about her thoughts on fostering an enduring culture of crafts. In this uncertain time of social distancing with the coronavirus crisis, I found her words comforting and reassuring about my work at Entoten.

Finally, if you can, please help preserve Pond Farm, an important historic site of California’s Armstrong Redwood State Natural Reserve, by visiting the redwood forest, becoming a member, and/or donating to the Stewards of the Coast and Redwoods.

Browse more images of pots made by Marguerite Wildenhain in the Forrest L. Merrill collection

Forrest L. Merrill Collection Website: A History of Pond Farm in Pictures

Building a Japanese Glassware Tradition: Blown Glass by Floresta Fabrica

February 17, 2020Floresta Fabrica Glass Shizuoka

Blown glasswork by Floresta Fabrica in our shop ->

When people think of crafts from Japan, glassware is probably not the first thing that comes to mind. But even though the craft has a relatively short history in Japan, I personally think Japan boasts many glass makers who create exceptional work, both sculpturally and functionally.

Blown glass pitchers by Suzuki Ai: The spouts are perfectly executed so they do not drip. The downward spout make these lovely pitchers resemble little birds

Glass tea caddy by Suzuki Tsutomu. The stunning blue-green color is added by films of silver and copper on the outside. Tsutomu carried out countless experiments to achieve this effect.

An emerging example of this Japanese glasswork excellence is Floresta Fabrica, a studio of husband and wife glass blowing duo of Suzuki Tsutomu and Ai, based in Mori town of Hamamatsu city in Shizuoka Prefecture. ‘Floresta Fabrica’ is Portuguese for ‘forest factory,’ because Tsutomu and Ai wanted to honor the Portuguese who brought glass blowing techniques to Japan in the 18th century. ‘Forest’ refers to their hometown of ‘Mori’, which means ‘forest’ in Japanese. They established their gallery and residence inside an old Japanese house in 2016.

Suzuki Tsutomu and Ai

Suzuki Tsutomu and Ai’s residence and gallery in Mori town

The view from the gallery of Floresta Fabrica

Tsutomu and Ai’s hand-formed glass vessels have very pleasing and slightly nostalgic forms and textures. “We thoroughly study the forms so that they are pleasing to look at and are comfortable to use” Ai explained. “We try to have the perspective of the user when we design the vessels.”

Glass goblet by Suzuki Ai has a lovely form and slightly nostalgic appeal

They are particular about forming each piece by only using hand tools because they believe that is the best way to convey the beauty of mouth-blown glass. For textured pieces, the mold is only used in the beginning to add the texture but shaping is done with hand tools. Ai said that mastering the use of tools is the most difficult process of glass blowing, and that she sometimes just wants to use her hands, but laughed that “would not end well.”

Some of the hand tools used by Suzuki Tsutomu and Ai

Suzuki Tsutomu creating the foot of a sake cup

The batch, which refers to the raw material for the glass, is also very carefully selected for the transparency of the glasses. “We use batches from Sweden because they are very transparent, and we melt the materials carefully so that very few impurities get mixed up.” Any impurities will affect the clarity of the glass.

A pelletized batch from Sweden used by Floresta Fabrica. The material is lead-free and melted to create clear glass.

Ai studied glass blowing at the Osaka University of Arts. She was among the first generation of students that studied in the newly established department. “It was a very good environment because they had the newest and top of the line equipment,” she recalls. Tsutomu was born into a family of ceramicists in Mori, which is well-known for its Moriyama ware. He learned glass-blowing at the Tokyo Glass-Art Institute, and worked several years in Tokyo. The couple decided to settle in Mori after they got married because they believed it was the ideal location for their studio.

Tsutomu and Ai recently became parents to a baby boy and are very happy to be able to raise him in the beautiful natural environment surrounding their house. “This location works well because people come to town to see the ceramics and they also stop by to see our glass work,” Tsutomu said. They dream that Mori will be known one day for both ceramics and glasswork.

The beautiful natural environment of Mori town

And history is on their side. Moriyama ware has a history of about 100 years, a relatively short timespan for ceramics in Japan. Moriyama was started by Nakamura Hidekichi, a local man who was so impressed by the story of Seto’s potter Kato Kagemasa that he invited a Shitoro-ware potter to establish a kiln in Mori. These days Mori is a well-established pottery town that is home to four families of potters.

Kagamimochi on Ontayaki Pedestal Plate

December 20, 2019Ceramics Onta Ontayaki

Ontayaki in our shop ->

The final addition to the Entoten gallery in 2019 is Ontayaki, which is produced in the small village of Onta, in northern Oita prefecture, by 10 families that are the descendants of its founders dating back to 1705.

For this batch of work, I asked a good friend that I have known for over 30 years who is an expert on Japanese craft to curate the work. I was very excited because I had never seen an Ontayaki pedestal plate until he chose to include it in this collection.

Pedestal plates are not often made in Onta because these vessels warp easily with the application of slip. But they are perfect for serving food for the new year, so I decided to make my own kagamimochi, a traditional Japanese New Year’s decoration made of rice cakes, to present on this special plate. You can find out more about the process in story highlights on Instagram.

Thank you for visiting my website and supporting Entoten for this past year! My best wishes for a happy and healthy New Year to you all.

Kagamimochi New Year decoration on Ontayaki pedestal plate.

New Kohiki Pots by Inoue Shigeru

December 6, 2019Ceramics Inoue Shigeru Tokoname

Ceramics by Inoue Shigeru in our shop December 7th, 2019->

The beauty of the kohiki pots made by Japanese potter Inoue Shigeru are striking because he puts so much effort into acquiring and mixing two types of native clays for the dark base before the white slip is applied. The depth of the white is enhanced by the underlying dark clay.

Kohiki yunomi by Inoue Shigeru

To me, the negative aspects of common kohiki pots are that they are often thick and clunky because the layer of white slip is applied to the surface of the pots. They also chip more easily because of that extra layer. Inoue-san’s kohiki are very different though. They are light with lovely crisp rims and do not chip easily because of the fine nature of the base clay.

Petal-edged small bowls by Inoue Shigeru

Small petal-edged kohiki plates are my absolute favorite pots by Inoue Shigeru

I would like to warn first time kohiki owners though that because kohiki have an extra layer of white clay between the glaze and base, they are vulnerable to spotting and staining, especially when you first start using the ware. A Chanoyu practitioner called this spotting of kohiki as “blossoming”, which I thought was a poetic way to describe what was happening. Over time with use, the spotting will stop and the ware will season. So if you are looking for a pristine white pot, kohiki pots are not for you. But if you are willing to nurture a pot, do give them a try.

A set of four kohiki choko by Inoue Shigeru

As a thank you for all your support during 2019, I will offer sets of beautiful kohiki pots by Inoue Shigeru with free shipping within the U.S. for sale this Saturday. I hope that you will use this opportunity to grow your own kohiki.

Guardian of a Craft: ‘Kata-e-zome’ by Esteemed Textile Designer Yamauchi Takeshi

November 20, 2019Textiles Shizuoka Mingei Yamauchi Takeshi

Kata-e-zome by Yamauchi Takeshi in our shop ->

Entoten is over the moon to be able to introduce a collection of work by renowned Japanese textile designer Yamauchi Takeshi, who has been designing and dyeing textiles for over 60 years in his studio, Atelier Nuiya, in Hamatsu City in Shizuoka.

Soba cups noren door hanger by Yamauchi Takeshi on woven hemp.

Yamauchi-san creates work featuring bold designs of his own creativity, and also motifs inspired by traditional patterns and family crests. His colorful ideas are turned into tenugui towels, cushion covers, furoshiki wrapping cloth, and door hanging noren.

Furoshiki with a circular crane (tsurumaru) motif inspired by a traditional Japanese family crest. The crane logo of Japan Airlines was also inspired by the crest.

Yamauchi-san’s work is known as ‘kata-e-zome’ (pronounced kata-eh-zomeh). You may have heard of the term ‘katazome,’ which means a traditional method of dyeing fabrics by brushing on a resist paste through a stencil.

Thistles patterned tenugui by Yamauchi Takeshi

‘Kata-e-zome’ was coined by the Japanese government to recognize the achievements of Yamauchi-san’s teacher of 6 years, the legendary textile designer Serizawa Keisuke (1895-1984), who was awarded a Living National Treasure title in 1956. Serizawa carried out all of the processes of traditional stencil dyeing himself and created a more pictorial style of textile design, which became known as kata-e-zome, meaning stencil-picture-dyeing.

Yamauchi Takeshi carries out every aspect in the design and production of his textiles
Photo courtesy of Yamauchi Takeshi, Atelier Nuiya

Yamauchi-san, following in the footsteps of his revered teacher, still carries out all aspects of the production processes by himself. This involves highly labor-intensive work routines that includes creating the stencil, applying resist, and finally dyeing the textile. In a traditional katazome studio, the work is divided between several craftsmen.

Yamauchi-san’s daughter, Yoko-san, said that at this time her father does not take long breaks from his work because, “he worries that his muscles can’t keep up if he rests too much.” Yamauchi-san is 81 years old this year.

Kata-e-zome master Yamauchi Takeshi working at his studio
Photo Courtesy of Yamauchi Takeshi, Atelier Nuiya

Despite his age, Yamauchi-san’s enthusiasm to his craft is limitless. He creates the small tenugui towels with many different designs even though the work involved in creating them is no less than making much larger and expensive pieces. “He wants to make sure that there are pieces of his work available for every budget,” Yoko-san said.

Tenugui designed and dyed by Yamauchi Takeshi sold at Atelier Nuiya. Yamauchi-san creates many different patterned tenugui because he wants to make sure there are pieces of work available for every budget.

If you are ever in the Hamamatsu area of Shizuoka, I urge you to visit Yamauchi-san’s atelier, which is within walking distance of Hamamatsu Station. In addition, Yamauchi-san’s door hanging noren of red mount Fuji is on display at the Japan House in Los Angeles as part of the Japan 47 Artisans exhibition that runs until January 5, 2020 coordinated by D&Department.

Kata-e-zome master Yamauchi Takeshi’s Atelier Nuiya in Hamamatsu, Shizuoka, Japan

Being in the company of Yamauchi-san’s textiles brings such joy and comfort to me, and a little part of Yamauchi-san’s creative world can be viewed in San Diego throughout November when his noren will be displayed at the Entoten Gallery. I hope that you will make time to come out to the gallery and see his special work in person.

Visiting Vietnam: Traveling in the Land of my Pottery Crush

February 3, 2019Vietnam

My infatuation with Vietnamese pottery began with an unassuming plate that I saw at the National Museum in Tokyo. It was a white-slipped plate with a flower painted in the center coated with a milky glaze. The loosely drawn flower was joyful and full of life, and I was completely captivated by its charm. When I discovered that the plate was made in Vietnam sometime during the Ly and Tran Dynasty of the 13^th and 14^th centuries, I began to dream about visiting that haunting country someday.

Dish in Tokyo’s National Museum with flowering plant design in underglaze iron, from 13th-14th Century Vietnam.
鉄絵草花紋皿　東京国立博物館にて撮影

The opportunity to turn this dream into reality came suddenly this past mid-January when a Vietnamese-American friend invited me to visit Vietnam together. I quickly agreed. But I soon discovered that there was very little information on where to go and see ceramics in Vietnam.

Two vague tips that I received was the Bat Trang (Bát Tràng) pottery village located southeast of Hanoi on the banks of the Red River, and the National Museum of Vietnamese History in Hanoi (Hà Nội), which was said to have a good collection of historic Vietnamese wares. With these clues, I hopped onto a plane for the 20 hour plus journey to Hanoi.

Bat Trang Pottery Village near Hanoi

Bat Trang pottery village is about 45 minutes on Bus No. 47A from Hanoi’s Long Bien Bus Terminal. A taxi will get you there a lot faster, but I enjoyed the slow ride to absorb the lush scenery and Hanoi’s energy that is topped with traffic chaos. The bus took us to the center of the village.

Pottery shops in Bat Trang ceramic village near Hanoi

Bat Trang was exactly what I thought it would be. A village with ornamental large jars and lots of affordable tableware for everyday use, all in the contemporary styles that are preferred by Vietnamese people today. Most of the pots seem to have been made by slip casting.

Left: Bright colored bowls and cups. Right: A lady packing bright colored ceramic pigs probably for the Vietnamese lunar new year celebrations.

Very low hand wheels with matching tiny plastic seats at a shop where customers can experience making pots.

Multi-chambered climbing kiln in Bat Trang. The kiln did not appear to have been used recently.

Although the bright colors and shiny glazes were not exactly to my taste, it was still fascinating to see that the Vietnamese use so many different types of vessels that reflects the country’s rich food culture, like small dishes for sauces, small lidded jars and cooking pots for fish soups. There were popular soup bowls in various sizes with large curved rims that I have rarely seen elsewhere, so I bought a few to take home.

Little bowls with curved rims from Bat Trang, Vietnam.

National Museum of Vietnamese History in Hanoi

It was by pure chance, which I interpret as destiny, to arrive at the National Museum of Vietnamese History just as an extensive exhibit opened of 13^th-18^th century ceramics excavated from ancient shipwrecks off the Vietnamese coast. This show started on January 18^th 2019 and runs until May 18^th 2019. So if you are in the area, I urge you to visit it.

Left: National Museum Right: Shipwreck pottery

About 500 pieces of pottery were on display, many of which were my favorite Vietnamese blue-and-white ceramics from the 15^th century. In the current Japanese handmade pottery scene, there are many makers who have been heavily influenced by this era of Vietnamese pottery. It was interesting to observe that the current ceramics taste in Vietnam is moving away from these traditional painted styles, while in Japan the “Annam-style”, is having its moment.

Vietnamese blue and white ceramic containers from the 15th Century

As a modern day importer of handmade ceramics, I get cold sweat thinking about a big chunk of my orders sinking in the ocean on its way to the US. But my creative imagination exploded with these remnants from the shipwrecks because they offered a unique window into the aesthetics and lives of Vietnamese people from the distant past. After witnessing the tastes and skills built into these pots, I could understand why they were coveted by people from so many surrounding countries, and such great efforts were made to trade them overseas.

Ho Chi Minh

I had no pointers of where to go in Ho Chi Minh (Hồ Chí Minh) City for pottery, so I took the advice of Professor Matsui, one of Japan’s leading experts on Mingei who told me to “study objects from the past to understand Mingei and the beauty of handmade items for use.” Which meant that I hit the streets to look at antique stores.

Vintage Song Be Ware of Ho Chi Minh

I had never heard of “Song Be (Sông Bé)” ware, but a friend who lives in Ho Chi Minh said it was local, everyday use pottery, that was influenced by the French, who had ruled Vietnam between the 19^th and 20^th Centuries. Indeed I see similarities to the French Strasbourg and Quimper ceramics, along with some Chinese influence, but overall it is distinctly Vietnamese in spontaneity.

Vintage Song Be ware at Kito Shop on Dong Khoi street in Ho Chi Minh

These pots made me think about the resilience of the Vietnamese people, and their long struggle of facing hordes of foreign invaders, which sadly included Japan during the Second World War. Some people said that Song Be kilns are still making pottery, while others told me they have stopped production. I hope to find out definitively what the current situation is soon.

More vintage Song Be ware at Kito shop in Ho Chi Minh

Shipwreck Pottery in Ho Chi Minh

In one of the shops on Antique Street that I visited in Ho Chi Minh, I found a mound of blue-and-white small jars and covered jars that looked very similar to the ones I saw at the museum in Hanoi.

A huge pile of jarlets at an antique shop in Ho Chi Minh. Many had little birds drawn on them.

The shopkeeper told me that fishermen had found these items in the ocean. I was very surprised that precious 15^th century pots were so casually sold! From the pile, I chose a covered container that had a beautiful painting of a flower, drawn in distinctively relaxed Vietnamese strokes together with a few jarlets. I later found similar pots online, with mention of them being “Hoi An hoard”. I’m not sure what this means, but want to find out more about them.

More shipwreck pottery at an antique store in Ho Chi Minh.

After the Trip

In this one week trip to Vietnam, I felt like I did not even scratch the surface of grasping the mystery of Vietnamese ceramics traditions that I am so attracted to. But the visit reinforced my conviction that there is much more to discover and learn in Vietnam. Initially, I was very surprised at how little is published on Vietnamese pottery, despite its long and rich traditions. But as Yanagi Muneyoshi, founder of the Mingei movement once said, “In understanding beauty, intuition is more of the essence than intellectual perception. The reversal of these two faculties stultifies vision. To “see” is to go direct to the core; to know the facts about an object of beauty is to go around the periphery. Intellectual discrimination is less essential to an understanding of beauty than the power of intuition that precedes it.” So I am determined to visit Vietnam again, to see first, and maybe know afterwards.

Ceramics by Inoue Shigeru: The Intrinsic Power of Clay

December 13, 2018Ceramics Inoue Shigeru Tokoname

Mishima Ceramics by Inoue Shigeru in our shop->

Several years ago, I came across an image of a plate that moved me. The plate had stamp marks and lines inlayed with white slip on a rich, dark clay background.

Mishima koyomite plate by Japanese potter Inoue Shigeru

The plate had a restrained and earthy beauty with powerful appeal. I initially thought that it must be old, but it was new and even more surprising was that the plate was made by Inoue Shigeru, who at the time was an office worker living near the city of Nagoya and was making pottery in his spare time.

Arugula and orange salad in a hori mishima plate by Inoue Shigeru

“People said to me, you are crazy,” said Inoue-san, a slight man with gentle manners as he showed me the clay making area in his apartment’s back yard on a visit this past November. “I wanted to make pots like the beautiful Korean Kohiki (Buncheong) wares, but only by using natural materials, and it was horribly difficult,” he laughed. Some professional potters told him such efforts were stupid because it made no significant difference to the results which he disagreed with.

Clay making by Inoue Shigeru

Most Kohiki potters adjust the slip with refined chemicals because a slight incompatibility with the underlying clay can cause the slip to peel off or crack. But Inoue-san was adamant about using natural feldspar, because he believed that pure chemicals, although they are much more stable, “wouldn’t give the same effect as natural slip.” He is also particular about using weathered feldspar that are naturally exposed to rain and sun and harvested in nearby Gifu prefecture.

Kohiki slip can crack or peel off when there is incompatibility with the clay

The red clay body that Inoue-san is infatuated with comes from a clay shop from the nearby pottery town of Tokoname. The shop owners tell him that “you and the brickmakers are the only people who wants this crude clay.”

Predictably, Inoue-san’s Kohiki work failed miserably in the beginning. “Sometimes my pots all collapsed. Then I got a little better and managed to slip the wares, but the slip peeled off or cracked in the firing.” Inoue-san shook his head as he recalled these tough testing years.

Inoue-san holding the collapsed plates with ash glazes that came out of the kiln. The clay he works with has low refractoriness. He jokes that it was a spectacular failure.

After many failures, Inoue-san decided to regroup and instead of completely coating the surface, he started brushing a thin layer of white slip onto the stamped or carved surface of the dark clay and scraping off the excess that made the slip adhere to the clay better. These slip decoration styles are called Mishima because, according to one theory, Japanese tea masters who prized the original 15th Century Korean Buncheong ware in this style thought the patterns resembled the famous Mishima calendars published in Izunokuni (Shizuoka prefecture today) from the Kamakura period (1192-1333).

Inoue-san’s pots shrink by about 20% in the firing, far more than processed clay. He thinks this is because processed clays are pulverized and are much more dense than the natural clay that he’s works with.

Inoue-san’s work slowly became more successful, and as he shared his progress on social media, his work started to receive plenty of support from followers. Inoue-san never thought at the time that he would be a full-time potter. But after several acclaimed receptions at gallery shows around Japan, he decided to quit his office job 2 years ago.

Inoue-san now is creating a truly original body of work unlike anything I have ever seen. No two pots are the same, but each one is a perfect background for serving food. You can see his enthusiastic fans serving up on his vessels through social media.

Matcha in a hakeme (brushed slip) bowl by Inoue Shigeru

On his decision to become a full-time potter, Inoue-san says that “I’m happy if I can earn enough to continue making more pottery. I’m the sort of person that can’t try very hard if it was just for myself, but I get motivated and energized when people tell me they enjoy using my pots.”

Before leaving his studio, I asked Inoue-san why he thinks people have reacted so positively and emotionally to his rather unobtrusive work. He said, “I guess it’s because my pots are born from clay that is usually overlooked and I put them through lots of challenges, like not giving them support by adding chemicals and by firing them in prolonged strong reduction (when oxygen is deprived in the process) for almost 12 hours in a gas kiln. I think clay is just like people. The ones that survive the tough circumstances eventually show their deepest strength and shine.”

A Very Particular Focus: A Love Affair With Tokoname Kyusu by Yamada Yutaro

November 28, 2018Tokoname Yamada Yutaro

Tokoname Kyusu by Yamada Yutaro in the Our Shop ->

On an unusually warm November day in Japan, I visited Yamada Yutaro, a young rising star of kyusu teapot makers in the old pottery town of Tokoname. When Yamada-san graduated from college, he did not appear destined to be a potter as he went to work for a construction company. But he always wanted to make kyusu, so he heeded the advice of a colleague who said that he should follow his ambition sooner rather than later.Yamada-san quit his job after just one year and returned to school to study ceramics.

Tokoname kyusu teapots by Yamada Yutaro

Yamada-san grew up in Tokoname, which is a ceramics town south of the sprawling city of Nagoya. Tokoname is one of the six oldest pottery towns in Japan and dates back to the 12^th Century. The town flourished during a big construction boom in the Meiji era as it became a supplier of ceramic drainpipes.

A street in Tokoname lined with reused ceramic pipes and shochu bottles. Tokoname was once the largest producer and supplier of these ceramic items in Japan.

During the Showa era, Tokoname became widely known for its kyusu. When I was growing up, even in my humble house, we used kyusu from Tokoname to drink green tea because it was the brand to own!

Kyusu making in Tokoname is believed to have started during the Edo period when a local potter called Inaba Shozaemon started creating teapots by referencing drawings of old teapots he found in a book. The fame of Tokoname Kyusu grew further when a Chinese Yixing potter called Jin Shiheng was invited in 1858 to teach red clay (Shudei) kyusu-making techniques to local Tokoname potters by Koie Houju, a prominent Tokoname potter and businessman who made his fortune in the drainpipe business.

The studio of Yamada-san’s father stacked with ceramic planters. The Yamadas have been potters for three generations.

Many families in Tokoname have been potters for generations. In the case of Yamada-san, he follows his father and grandfather into this profession. But unlike most Tokoname pottery families, the Yamadas are very individualistic and each generation has pursued different interests.

Yamada-san’s grandfather made hibachi, while his father is focused on planters. Yamada-san himself is a kyusu maker. “I’m infatuated with kyusu, but my father says he has absolutely no interest in kyusu”, Yamada-san chuckles. But the son always keeps in mind what his father told him when he quit his office job to become a full-time potter, which was that it was not easy to make a living as a potter.

Kyusu maker Yamada Yutaro of Tokoname

Kyusu making is a very delicate and exacting process with each step requiring the utmost precision. The body, lid, tea strainer, handle, and spout are all created separately and subsequently put together meticulously. As kyusu making is so highly specialized, Yamada-san said that the general ceramics training taught in schools was not directly useful to him.

The strainers that will be attached to the inside of the spout. The holes are larger on the edge to allow for the last drop of tea to come out easily from the teapot.

So after his school training, Yamada-san honed his skills by getting hands-on experience from expert local teapot makers like Murakoshi Fugetsu, who learned from Yamada Jyozan III who was designated as an important intangible cultural property (also known as a living national treasure) of Tokoname Kyusu by the Japanese government in 1998. Yamada-san also visits Yamamoto Hiromi, who he refers to as the “god of Kyusu” and is a renowned Banko pottery kyusu artist.

Yamada-san holding his “family treasure” brass hole cutter used to make the strainer. The nail on his right thumb is used for making the knob on the lid.

Kyusu greenware before high firing. The spout is attached slightly turned counter-clockwise, because the clay will pull back and the spout will turn clockwise during the firing.

According to Yamada-san, a good kyusu is comfortable to hold, which means that it should be easily held by one hand without any part of the user’s hand touching the lower body of the kyusu as it can get quite hot. The kyusu should also have a spout that pours smoothly and does not dribble. The strainer should allow for the last drop of tea to come out of the pot easily. And finally, the wall of the kyusu should be very thin so that it is light and easily held with one hand.

A hiragata kyusu by Yamada Yutaro. A good kyusu is lightweight and comfortable to hold with one hand.

From clay preparation to firing, Yamada-san is tirelessly meticulous. It was so refreshing and infectious to see his fascination with the kyusu. “I think good work inherently embodies the passion and spirit of the maker, and I want to make such work,”, Yamada-san observes. Looking at his beautiful kyusu, I think he is already doing this extremely well.

Revisiting the Pottery Village of Onta: The Resilience of Natural Rhythms

May 30, 2018Onta Mingei Ontayaki

Ontayaki in Entoten shop ->
Read my first blog post about Onta ->

On a dreary, rainy May day, I visited the remote pottery village of Onta in Kyushu for the second time as an interpreter for a pottery tour group organized by Bill Geisinger and Ben Horiuchi. It has been 5 years since I last visited this magical place and I was keen to see its current state because the village had experienced a large earthquake in 2016, followed by heavy rains in the summer of 2017 that had flooded the town and surrounding areas. I had read news reports that the rain caused severe mudslides that cut off this already remote village from the rest of the world for a week.

Sakamoto Yoshitaka preparing clay in Onta. The clay is being dried on top of a drying kiln and to the left is a hut where the kara-usu -traditional clay-crushing devices- are to be reinstalled.

The impact of these natural calamities on Onta’s pottery-making infrastructure has been devastating, but the spirit of its potters has been resilient. Many of the kara-usu, the traditional wooden clay-crushing devices that operate like a seesaw and are powered by water from the local river, were destroyed.

This area was flooded in 2017 and all of the clay was lost. The kara-usu, seen in the top right insert of this 2013 photo, were also destroyed.

“Our kara-usu were destroyed and all the clay that we harvested were also washed away”, said Sakamoto Yoichi, a young Onta potter that we visited. He and his father Sakamoto Yoshitaka are the descendants of the original founders of Onta that began in 1705. “We have to go and get more clay”, Yoichi-san smiled and spoke cheerfully as he stood in the rain to show us the newly poured concrete in the clay-making area along the river.

Onta clay drying atop a wood burning dryer.

But “getting and making more clay” is no easy task. In Onta, the clay is prepared through the traditional method of harvesting, pounding, elutriating and drying of the material and this whole process takes well over a month of back-breaking work to complete. Onta’s way of life and especially its way of making pottery has changed little since Yanagi Muneyoshi (aka Soetsu), the father of the Mingei movement, visited in 1931 and recorded this approach in his famous book ‘Hita no Sarayama’.

The front of the Sakamoto Yoshitaka kiln in Onta during a heavy downpour. On a sunny day, the pots will be drying out in the front.

As we walked past Yoichi-san’s wood-firing kiln, we saw finished pots that were left inside of it. Yoichi-san explained that they were fired in the kiln in time for the Golden Week vacation (a week-long vacation in Japan from late April to the beginning of May), but the annual festival was cancelled this year because many Onta families still have not yet recovered from the 2017 disaster. “Even though the festival was cancelled, I was happy that many people came,” Yoichi-san said with a big smile.

The workspace of Onta potter Sakamoto Yoichi. With a kick-wheel, no electricity is required, except for the lighting and radio that he listens to while working.

In his studio, Yoichi-san and his father Yoshitaka-san demonstrated wheel-throwing and slip glazing for our group. “I wanted to demonstrate the tobikan’na (chatter marking), but the pots are not dry enough unfortunately”, Yoichi-san said apologetically, “so I will demonstrate the hakeme (brush patted slip marking)”.

Sakamoto Yoshitaka (left) and Yoichi (right) demonstrating slip-glazing and hakeme for the visiting group.

I was very happy to be able to see this demonstration because even though the chatter-marking is probably the most famous slip decoration of Onta, my personal favorite is hakeme, which is also known as uchi-hakeme. I like hakeme because it involves a simple tool of a brush, and the tapping marks speak of the maker’s rhythm. Some other traditional Ontayaki decorations include yubikaki (finger marking) and kushikaki (comb marking).

Hakeme and kushikaki on fresh Onta clay. Onta potters use very wet clay for throwing.

Cream colored ontayaki with traditional decorations.

Throughout the time our group was with the Sakamotos, I was touched by their kind and gentle manner. Just like the warm cream-colored Ontayaki (ontaware) pottery that they produce, their humbleness and optimism impressed me considering the huge challenges that they have had to deal with in the past several years.

The original Hita no Sarayama by Yanagi Muneyoshi with a stencil dyed cover. Onta was made famous by this small book published in 1942 and was designated as intangible cultural property by the Japanese government in 1995.

After returning to California, I re-read Hita no Sarayama to search for insights from what I saw during my time in Onta. Yanagi wrote, “we want to learn what fosters beauty … if we cannot grasp this important fact, we cannot be proud of our new culture. Just as we cannot indulge ourselves in the past. Hita no Sarayama (Onta) is the direct opposite of today. But that is why there are so many things we can learn from it. Because it has abundant aspects that we lack. It has the strength that is not subject to the aspect of time.”

The one and only main road through Onta is covered in yellow from the clay that is constantly used and transported around the village.

I now feel that I have a better understanding of what Yanagi meant. And if you ever have the opportunity to visit Kyushu, I urge you to make a special effort to visit this exceptional village and its resilient people.