Tag: Minnesota

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.

Renewal: New Ceramics by Samuel Johnson

November 14, 2019Ceramics 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.

A Deeper Connection: Ceramics by Mitch Iburg

July 25, 2018Ceramics Mitch Iburg

Ceramics by Mitch Iburg will be available in our shop from 9:00 a.m. July 25th 2018 ->

What sets the work of Minnesota potter Mitch Iburg apart from his contemporaries is a depth and intensity of effort that is profound but not immediately visible. While most potters begin their work by wedging their purchased clay in the studio, Mitch’s starting point is to go through local geological publications, survey maps, mining databases, and walking the terrain from where he acquires his materials to create his work.

Ash-glazed vessel by Mitch Iburg. By coil-building vessels, Mitch feels that he can add a sense of history through layers, similar to rock formations that document the conditions at the time they were deposited.

Many people might consider that going to such lengths of effort that Mitch does is pointless and conflicts with the more pressing need to be productive and efficient. But luckily Mitch doesn’t think so.

“I research and collect rocks, minerals and clays throughout Minnesota,” Mitch says. He gathers, tests, and prepares the clay all year around, which is at the heart of his work. Maintaining this commitment limits how much can be produced, but Mitch believes that it is crucial to know the origins and history of these resources to keep a strong connection to the natural environment that they came from.

Left: A clay exposure near the Minnesota River. Right: Collecting felspathic sandstone
Photos courtesy of Mitch Iburg

Crude kaolin from the Minnesota River Valley. Photo courtesy of Mitch Iburg

Test tiles made from blends of collected, unprocessed clay. Photo courtesy of Mitch Iburg

Mitch’s path to learning about clay began when he first saw Japanese anagama fired ceramics. “There was so much about them that I couldn’t quite grasp or understand, but I felt a strong, visceral attraction to them that compelled me to study wood firing and ceramics”, Mitch said.

It took a long time for Mitch to comprehend the appeal, but he recalls that, “one day, while working in the studio it finally hit me. I realized that it was like watching a tree swaying in the wind. The wind itself is invisible, but its power and movement become manifested and made visible by the branches and leaves. The vessels were similar to the tree in that they recorded the presence of larger phenomena – the passing of time, alteration of materials by heat, and the enduring life cycle of the Earth.”

Mitch views his ceramic process as a tool for translating the sweeping and often unfathomable phenomena that have shaped our world into something tangible. Personally, I feel that the focused intension and stubbornness of Mitch in his approach allows him to create unparalleled work that speaks to us emotionally.

It also reminds me of the philosophy of tea that Okakura Kakuzo describes in his “The Book of Tea“, which is a “moral geometry, inasmuch as it defines our sense of proportion to the universe.” I feel that Mitch’s lifework is a similar effort to grasp that sense of scale.

Sincere, precious, yet humble, the attraction of Mitch’s work is similar to how I feel about the ancient unglazed pottery made in Japan called Sue ware from the 5^th and 6^th centuries. They were the first non-porous types of ceramics made in Japan, using the technique learned from the more advanced Koreans, who in turn learned it from the Chinese. Perhaps it is because in both Mitch’s work and Sue ware, I feel the earnest joy to create something hard and useful out of something that is soft and brittle found in nature.

In the past six years that I have known Mitch’s work, I have often wondered how long he would be able to continue to make pots in the way that he does. So, it is delightful to see that he has expanded his body of work such as the wheel-thrown tableware that intrinsically preserves a sense of connection to nature while allowing him to use a broader range of materials. He also recently was a recipient of the Jerome Ceramic Artist Project Grant from the Northern Clay Center to re-examine the role of natural materials in the field of ceramic art.

Wheel-thrown tea cups by Mitch Iburg. Creating food-safe vessels require the use of commercial silica and feldspar, but Mitch still researches the parent rock and only introduces materials that are closest to the region.

Mitch says that his development was helped by many of his fellow potters in the wood-fire community, which has forged a special symbiotic relationship between established and emerging artists. He points to artists like John Jessiman in Virginia, Nick Schwartz in California, and Samuel Johnson in Minnesota that have played crucial roles in helping his evolution.

I would like to think that Mitch’s approach is proof that nothing has fundamentally changed since the time of the Sue potters. That efforts that are seemingly invisible make all the difference over time, and from the seeds sown by a community that is willing to work together will emerge trees that will grow and sway in the wind for many generations to come.

Northern Minnesota landscape
Photo courtesy of Mitch Iburg

Kindling Emotions: Functional Ceramics by Samuel Johnson

September 27, 2017Ceramics Samuel Johnson

Ceramics by Samuel Johnson in our shop ->

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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