Tag: ceramics

The Saint John’s Pottery in Minnesota: An American Pottery Tradition

By:
Minnesota Ceramics Samuel Johnson Shumpei Yamaki

To understand the story of the Saint John’s Pottery in Collegeville, Minnesota, it is worthwhile going to the studio in person. In July, I visited this legendary pottery studio located inside the serene Benedictine environment of the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University (CSBSJU), accompanied by my photographer friend Tomoko Matsubayashi.

“It’s slightly unusual,” said Samuel Johnson, potter and Chair of the Art Department of CSBSJU, about the fascinating relationship and history between the Saint John’s Pottery and the University.  “Ultimately, the pottery exists because it extends the Benedictine values of hospitality and community.”

I’ve been working with Sam since 2014, and this was the first time we met face to face. I was eager to see him because he is one of the rare breed of potters that went through multiple layers of training that included spending time as a Japanese-style pottery apprentice at the Saint John’s Pottery, going to graduate school, and studying overseas in Copenhagen and Japan.

Samuel Johnson’s pottery studio in Saint Joseph, MN
Kick-wheels at Samuel Johnson’s pottery studio in Saint Joseph, MN

We first met at Sam’s studio by his house located in Saint Joseph, a few minutes away from the college campus. Equipped with kick-wheels and long planks of ware boards, the studio resembled the pottery studios that I visited in Karatsu, Japan.

Many of the characteristics —even the studio’s cleanliness— are testimony to the transmission of knowledge through distance and time. Richard Bresnahan, Sam’s teacher, and the Artist-in-Residence at the Saint John’s Pottery, trained under the renowned Japanese potter Nakazato Takashi in Karatsu, Saga prefecture.  “Through the tradition I was studying I felt linked to the past, to potters from other places and times,” Sam says.

Handmade pots line shelves at Samuel Johnson’s pottery studio in Saint Joseph, MN
Samuel Johnson standing next to long wooden ware boards at his studio in Saint Joseph, MN
Coiled and paddled wood-fired jars by Samuel Johnson

There are two wood-firing kilns on the CSBSJU compound. The smaller kiln is called Sister Dennis Kiln that Sam built in 2012. This kiln is usually fired in the spring and fall, giving opportunities for students at the university to experience the traditional method of firing pottery. Through this experience, the students learn to work together and appreciate the beauty and function of handmade pots. “I studied here, so I thought it was only natural to use handmade pots,” Sam said in explaining the positive impact of being familiar with handmade ceramics. “But many people in the rest of the United States often ask if it’s possible to eat from a plate made in this manner.”

Sister Dennis Kiln at CSBSJU. The kiln is fired for about 76 hours using wood from the college arboretum.
Stoking windows on the side of Sister Dennis Kiln at CSBSJU.
Sister Dennis Kiln at CSBSJU. Once the pottery pieces are loaded inside, the kiln opening is closed using bricks and clay before firing.

In the afternoon, we visited the Saint John’s Pottery located on the west side of campus. Unfortunately, I was not able to meet Richard Bresnahan on this visit because he was traveling to celebrate his birthday with his family. “I lived in that small narrow room,” Sam said, pointing to the upper part of the brick building as we entered from the door below. “It was so narrow that if I stretched out my arms, I could almost touch both walls of the room.”

The Saint John’s Pottery Studio in Collegeville, MN
The upper brick part of the studio building is Saint Joseph Hall, originally built in 1899, which was used to house lay employees and workers. Richard Bresnahan first established the studio in the building’s abandoned root cellar in 1979. In 1992, the University moved the studio by building a new foundation and relocating the whole 4000 sf historic building on top. 

Studio Manager Daniel Smith and apprentice Luke Kiefer welcoming us with tea around the Japanese hearth at Saint John’s Pottery

Current members working at the pottery welcomed us for tea around the famous pottery hearth at the entrance to the studio. They included Environmental Artist-in-Residence, Steve Lemke; Studio Manager, Daniel Smith; and apprentice, Luke Kiefer. Through conversations over tea made with water boiled in a cast iron kettle and poured from handmade teapots, I learned about the many obstacles the studio had to overcome to establish and continue its apprenticeship program. Despite these setbacks, Bresnahan has successfully trained more than 50 apprentices over the last 44 years, and many more artists have come to learn at the pottery as residents of the studio with the help of supporters and grants.

“The Melon Cup” is the first form an apprentice of Richard Bresnahan’s learns to throw on the wheel. The wood kilns at CSBSJU bring out the color of the clay vividly because they are fired at lower temperature than most anagama kilns
Luke Kiefer and Daniel Smith working on kick-wheels at the Saint John’s Pottery.
Daniel Smith trimming the foot of a bowl on a kick-wheel. The kick-wheels are turned clockwise in Karatsu, Japan, but they are turned counter-clockwise at the Saint John’s Pottery, as do most potters in the US

The clay used at the Saint John’s Pottery is made from a nearby deposit that is extracted, stockpiled, and processed as needed in-house using secondhand equipment. The wood used to fuel the kilns is environmentally sustainable, certified by the Forest Stewardship Council, and comes from the nearly 3,000-acre Saint John’s Abbey Arboretum. The apprentices not only master their skills in a deeply immersive setting but also learn to sustainably use the natural resources from the surrounding environment.

Work by Richard Bresnahan, Artist-in-Residence and founder of the Saint John’s Pottery. I hope to meet him in person in the future

Sam says that through his apprenticeship with Bresnahan, he experienced the quality that stirs the imagination in his work. “In cups and bowls that I make, but also in the mundane aspects of work [like] washing ashes or clay, stacking wood,” he said. “This is one of the gifts my teacher gave me.”

The Saint John’s Pottery is a hub that disseminates a deep knowledge of pottery craft. Its apprentices, including Sam and Iowa potter Shumpei Yamaki, are gems of this unique American pottery tradition.

The clay processing area of the Saint John’s Pottery using recycled equipment.

After the tour of the studio, Daniel Smith took us to the other wood-firing kiln on campus, which is the famous Johanna Kiln that was designed and built by Richard Bresnahan in 1994. At over 80 feet, the kiln is the largest of its kind in North America and can hold around 12,000 pieces in a single firing. The kiln is fired once every two years, and as its front chamber is currently being repaired, the next firing won’t take place until October 2024. The labor-intensive firing event lasts for 10 days with the help of 60 volunteers who take turns stoking the kiln around the clock.

The building housing Johanna Kiln on the CSBSJU Campus in Collegeville, Minnesota.
Samuel Johnson inside the large Tanegashima Chamber of the Johanna Kiln

At the end of the day, Sam took us around the CSBSJU campus. The Benedictine monks first arrived in Collegeville in the spring of 1866, and by the end of the 19th Century had constructed the quadrangle building using bricks that they made from the rich clay deposit on site. When I saw these original bricks in the building wall that the monks made, and the durable end-grain wood floor of the Great Hall, it became clear how a remarkable institution like the Saint John’s Pottery was able to thrive here in Minnesota.

Stability, community, hospitality, and dignity of work: these Benedictine standards seem difficult to live by, especially in this modern, economically obsessed world. But what sets Saint John’s apart is that the university has made credible commitments to these ideals that are tangibly demonstrated in the work of the Saint John’s Pottery and its community of potters.

Looking towards Great Hall and the Quadrangle building from the Abbey Church of CSBSJU, Collegeville, MN
Quadrangle Building, CSBSJU, Collegeville, MN
Unevenly fired bricks inside the Quadrangle Building made by Benedictine monks in the19th century. The monks labored to build beautiful buildings, promising stability and durability. CSBSJU, Collegeville, MN
Great Hall (original Abbey) at CSBSJU, Collegeville, MN
The wooden end-grain floor laid in a herringbone pattern conveying stability and dignity of work. Great Hall, CSBSJU, Collegeville, MN
The Abbey Church and Bell Banner by architect Marcel Breuer completed in 1961. The original abbey (Great Hall) can be seen on the right, built to face East, welcoming people arriving from the railway station. The current abbey is facing North towards the road from the freeway, indicating Benedictine hospitality.
“All guests who present themselves are to be welcomed as Christ for he himself will say I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” A sign in front of the abbey woodworking building, CSBSJU, Collegeville, MN

 

All photos by Tomoko Matsubayashi for Entoten

More information about the Saint John’s Pottery at CSBSJU can be found here->
You can also donate to support the Saint John’s Pottery from here ->

A Unifying Respect: New Ceramics by Mitch Iburg

By:
Ceramics 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.

New Kohiki Pots by Inoue Shigeru

By:
Ceramics 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.

Renewal: New Ceramics by Samuel Johnson

By:
Ceramics Samuel Johnson

Ceramics by Samuel Johnson in our shop ->

Exhibition of New Work by Samuel Johnson at Entoten Gallery, San Diego CA,
November 16, 2019, 12:00-4:00 pm

I was tingling with anticipation this fall as I awaited new work from Minnesota potter Samuel Johnson who said that he wanted to return to the roots of his early ceramics training and create altered painted tableware. I had never seen painted work by Sam, so I was very curious to see this style of his work.

Altered and painted bowl with flower motif by Samuel Johnson, 2019

Sam’s ceramics training began after he graduated from the University of Minnesota and became an apprentice to his mentor and teacher, Richard Bresnahan. Richard trained in Karatsu, which is one of the most well-known pottery towns in Japan, and later founded the Saint John’s Pottery at Saint John’s University since 1979. The process of learning under Richard was not dissimilar to how apprentices had learned for generations in Karatsu, which was watching and imitating the techniques of their masters.

Altered bowl by Samuel Johnson 2019. Sam stamped the bottom of the bowls with a waves motif (which he calls “wifi markings”). He applied blue slip, white slip, then painted and glazed the work.

Sam elaborated on what appears to have been a formidable and unforgiving learning process. “At night, after the work of the studio was finished for the day, I would be given a form to study and reproduce. The lessons came swiftly and only once. My teacher would move from his wheel to mine, throw a sample of the form he wanted me to make. This could be a small dish, an altered cup, a bowl with lid, or a bottle. He would say very little about it. The demonstration usually lasted just two or three minutes.”

For the next several weeks, sometimes even months, Sam would work to imitate the form. Eventually, Sam became very proficient at these forms and painted ware known as e-Karatsu (pronounced eh-Karatsu) that were versions of designs passed down for generations from Korea to Karatsu, and onto Minnesota.

Cup with ridge line and impressed cord pattern by Samuel Johnson. I love the corduroy feel of this cup.

But when his three-and-a-half-year apprenticeship was over, Sam decided not to reproduce these forms. He wanted to lean as little as possible on them so that he could open his eyes to new influences and nurture his own personal vision.

The reason he now wanted to return to these forms after a 20-year interlude was because he had been feeling unmoored in recent years as great political and social changes were occurring in the world at large as well as in his own personal life. He wanted to find out what he could create by returning to the place that gave him a sense of grounding, which was where he began training to be a potter.

The result of Sam’s journey to his roots is a set of refreshingly original work that is born from the deep experience and wide perspectives that Sam has acquired over many years of being a potter. His forms have a taste of Karatsu but they ‘feel’ very different because they are more robust. Maybe they carry the spirit of the vast Red River Valley where Sam grew up, well known even in Japan with the familiar tune of original Japanese lyrics about its nature. The restrained drawings of grass and flowers speak of the essence and power of regeneration, and the intentions behind the brushwork are very moving.

Apple crumble on Samuel Johnson’s small side dish. This is a traditional shape I have often seen in Japan, but its generous lip and size feels very American, which inspired me to bake an apple crumble. Sam says that pottery feels most meaningful to him when it can be used in daily life.

Sam explained that what came to the fore when he returned to these forms were not the pots of his apprenticeship but pots born from even earlier experiences. These were experiences of enjoying to throw dishes off the hump and altering them when wet, or loving the feeling of painting on them in a way that felt meaningful to him. “I loved the adaptation of these forms and the way they seemed to come to life through the process. It felt like rebirth. It felt like renewal,” Sam said.

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

By:
Ceramics Shumpei Yamaki

New ceramics by Shumpei Yamaki in our shop ->

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.

“No Bad Clay”: Karatsu Pottery by Mike Martino

By:
Mike Martino

Karatsu pots by Mike Martino in our shop ->

Karatsu potter Mike Martino has always been good with his hands. He believes that this natural talent combined with his exposure at a young age to early native American ceramics helped to set him onto a path of becoming a potter.

Mike grew up in New Mexico, where he frequently visited a native North American pueblo settlement adjacent to his town dating back to the 17th Century. “I remember going out with my parents hiking and coming home with pot shards, and walking home from school, stopping under a bridge to play with friends, and finding arrow heads,” he reminisces.

American potter Mike Martino working at his Gotanbayashi wood-firing kiln that he built in 2010
Photo courtesy of Mike Martino

Mike has been living in Japan for almost 25 years now after meeting his Japanese wife when they both studied at Kyushu University. He has been making functional pottery in the city of Taku, Saga Prefecture, for the past 15 years.

Mike creates work following the Karatsu pottery tradition produced in and around Karatsu that has a history of over 400 years. Historically, Karatsu Port was one of the most important ancient ports for trading with China and Korea. And Karatsu pottery has been directly influenced by Korea because many Korean potters settled in Karatsu after being taken captive following two attempted invasions of Korea by General Toyotomi Hideyoshi between 1592 and 1598.

Mini e-karatsu rice bowl by Mike Martino.
So versatile yet humble, they are perfect for rice, tea, and even small salads as a side dish.

Karatsu pots are earthy, high-fire glazed stoneware boasting numerous styles such as picture Karatsu (e-karatsu), Korean style Karatsu (chosen karatsu), black Karatsu (kuro garatsu) mottled Karatsu (madara karatsu), and stamped inlay Karatsu (mishima karatsu), to name just a few. There are many more variants, and Mike avidly studies their history through old Karatsu pots and shards.

The most basic goal for Mike is to create something beautiful and useful. At first glance, his pots seem like traditional Karatsu ware, but upon closer inspection they carry distinct and sometimes playful flair that uniquely incorporates his American roots. I love that he experiments with traditional forms with a twist, like creating small rice bowls that are half way between a sake cup and a tea bowl. And his large and small pedestal cups (bajohai) with iron drawings are so unique and fun to use on the dining table.

Mike Martino’s stemmed cups. His work is highly functional and fun to use.

As an American, Mike is also not afraid to defy convention. He uses cheaper Douglas fir to fire his kiln while most Japanese potters only use red pine, which is very expensive. This is despite plenty of warnings from fellow potters that Douglas fir would ruin his work. Mike later found out the reason for these dire warnings. When Douglas fir were first shipped from North America to Japan decades ago, the trees spent a lot of time floating in the ocean and were sometimes even dragged behind ships on their oceanic passage. It was the salt contamination that gave the Douglas fir a bad reputation.

Mike Martino firing his wood-fired kiln with Douglas fir. He is helped by his mentor Tsuruta Yoshihisa
Photo courtesy of Mike Martino

When Mike creates his work, he pays most attention to using the material in a way that brings out the beauty of their unique characteristics. His view is that there is no such thing as ‘bad clay,’ just the limitations of the artist’s imagination and ability in its use. If you follow Mike’s blog, you will notice that in 90% of the posts, he talks about the clay, such as their body, texture, color, and behavior. He is a clay geek who is deeply and passionately devoted to its study and application.

The foot of a Karatsu tea bowl by Mike Martino. Mike creates the most beautiful wrinkles on the foot of his work as he trims. This is one of the most revered characteristic of Karatsu clay called chirimen jiwa.  Mike calls this the ‘cookie dough’ effect.
Chirimen jiwa on the foot of an Izumiyama porcelain sake cup by Mike Martino. Porcelain cups are not usually known for this type of trim on the foot, but Mike loves this effect and when he discovered that Izumiyama porcelain can be trimmed like this, he was enticed to work with porcelain.

Mike’s curiosity of the history of Karatsu ceramics is also due in part to the influence of his mentor and teacher Tsuruta Yoshihisa, a well-known maker of ceramics for tea ceremonies and a leading expert of Japanese ceramics. The town of Taku where Mike resides is where Yi Sam-Pyeong (Ri Sampei in Japanese), the presumed father of Arita porcelain who came from Korea in the late 16th century, is believed to have first settled to establish a kiln. Yi later moved to Arita in 1616 after the discovery of Izumiyama porcelain. “Nowadays people think Arita and Karatsu are completely separate traditions because they are such different styles of pottery, but they are all related,” according to Mike.

Sharing tea with Mike at his studio in Taku using his pots. Mike loves the ability of Karatsu ware to change and become more beautiful with use.

Not so long ago, the Japanese word “Karatsu” was used synonymously with “pottery” because so much stoneware was made and shipped from Karatsu Port. But the Japanese ceramics market has been in a slump for many years, and only recently has there been a surge of renewed interest in handcrafted tableware.

Mike says he has noticed many more young customers in the last 3 to 4 years who are interested in and recognize the value of quality handmade work. He says he hopes to continue to play a part in spreading the “Karatsu” name as a pottery destination not only for the Japanese public but also for foreigners through his work. When I asked him about this goal, he smiled and replied that “all the potters in the U.S. know Mashiko but not Karatsu, and I want to put Karatsu on the map.”

Visiting Vietnam: Traveling in the Land of my Pottery Crush

By:
Vietnam

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 13th and 14th 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 13th-18th century ceramics excavated from ancient shipwrecks off the Vietnamese coast. This show started on January 18th 2019 and runs until May 18th 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 15th 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 19th and 20th 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 15th 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

By:
Ceramics 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.”

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

By:
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!

‘Strawberry Milk’ in a Pinched Rim Bowl by Hanako Nakazato

By:
Ceramics Hanako Nakazato Food and Craft

Ceramics by Hanako Nakazato will be available  in our shop on August 15th at 6:00 am  ->

‘Strawberry milk’ in a pinched rim bowlby Hanako Nakazato
(Note: The spoon is an ordinary rounded-bottom variant and not the exotic flat bottom design)

Did you eat ‘strawberry milk’ when you were growing up? It was huge in the 70s in Japan (along with mini-skirts and permed hair), and I begged my mother to buy us the ‘strawberry spoons’ that were perfectly designed to squish the strawberries in the milk with their flat bottoms.

As a little girl, I always believed that “strawberries sprinkled with sugar and squished in milk” was a fancy western way to eat strawberries. But now that I think of it, I’ve never seen anyone eat strawberries in this way in the U.S. or Europe.

According to my parents’ generation, strawberries that first became available to the general public in Japan in the post war Showa era were extremely sour and so the Japanese concocted ‘strawberry milk’ as a way to enjoy this sour fruit.

Eyeing the massive demand for a utensil that efficiently squashed strawberries in milk, the ‘strawberry spoon’ was created in 1960 by Kobayashi Kogyo Co., a cutlery manufacturer in Niigata prefecture, and their ‘Romance’ line of cutlery received the prestigious Good Design Award in 1974. So this company joins the ranks of Japanese titans like Sony and Toyota as the pioneers of Japanese style.

Click here to look at Kobayashi Kogyo’s cutlery catalog. The said spoon is on page. 35, fifth spoon from the bottom in the photo #11617-000 at 850 yen

This marvelous invention lessoned the likelihood of strawberries slipping or flying out of the bowl across the table, which saved the day for a lot of busy Japanese parents.

And the best part is when all the squished strawberries are eaten, you get to drink the sweet strawberry milk straight from the bowl!