In my previous post I mentioned the Old Karatsu kiln, Fujinokawachi, know for its paddled ware. Here is a picture of some of the old tokkuri unearthed from the Fujinokawachi kiln ruin.
For drinking sake, I’ve always preferred the Katakuchi form (just a bowl with a spout off of one side). Easier to fill from a large sake bottle, and just as easy to serve from as a tokkuri. Where tokkuri excel is that their shape allows for them to be easily submerged in hot water in order to heat sake. Thing is, these days the best sake is made to be served chilled, or room temp. No need for heating as it will in fact ruin the nuances of the sake.
That said, I still have to make them now and then, because not everyone shares my affinity for katakuchi, and because tokkuri are often used as flower vases rather than drinking vessels. I sat down the last couple of days and decided to try to make some Fujinokawachi style pinch and coil tokkuri. Fujinokawachi is one of the more famous kiln ruins from the Old Karatsu tradition. It’s famous in particular for it’s coil and pinch/paddled ware such as fresh water jars and tokkuri forms with madara (rice straw ash mottled white) glazes, and Chosen Karatsu (rice straw ash white cascading down over brown iron ash glaze).
Coil and pinch/paddle is called板起し ‘ita-okoshi’ (to build with coils from a flat base) and 叩き’tataki’ (paddling) in Japanese. It is shown in this sequence of photos from a previous post:
These tokkuri are built in the same way, except that they are not paddled since they are a bit small to get a hand into. Building this way is not as fast as throwing on the wheel, but I like the softness of the forms and the fact that I can get a thinner, lighter pot. I’ll build the pot up to the shoulder, then start tapering and continue building up. Then I’ll lightly water the neck section and throw once to extend it and finish the lip. Last, I go back and finish the neck profile. If you do the spout/lip section last, the neck will collapse. It takes me about 30 minutes to finish one tokkuri.
Here are the finished forms. I had fun playing with the proportions, still always amazed at on small change will do to the overall look of the form.
I put a matchbox in for scale to give an idea of size. Except for the tallest, they all weighed in at 350 – 400 grams, still wet. The tall one was just over 450 grams wet. I’d say the average height is about 20cm. In case you didn’t notice, or wanted a closer look, here’s a close up picture of my cute little winged beast, which was given to me by it’s creator Eva Funderburgh, who makes all manner of wonderful beasts. You can see more of her stuff here.
Last, here are a couple of pics of the one that didn’t make it. Stupid mistake. I finished the whole thing up, then got a little over zealous trimming it off of the wheelhead and under cut it too much, which made one side of the very bottom so thin that it collapsed. I was half finished smashing it, and decided instead to slice it down the side to see how the inside looked. I’d never done that before with tokkuri. Ends up the rim was a bit too thin, but the rest of the neck and body were a fairly uniform 2.5 – 3mm thick.
For anyone interested, if you click on the link below you will find an animation of how to tie the cord (himokake) on wood boxes (kiribako):
This is my pottery mentor’s website. If you look around you’ll find lots of other animations, images, and short movies. Very interesting. Tsuruta sensei will be doing a one day demo and talk during the kiln building workshop at my studio this fall. Workshop link is here:
I got several boxes (kiribako) in yesterday, so it was the perfect opportunity to explain how the boxes are prepared for their pots.
First of all, the pots are measured and I call the box maker, who then makes the boxes and sends them to me, looking like this after the plastic covers are removed.
It’s easiest to do them as a group, so I set them all up and break out my trusty brush, box signing ink, stamps, and stamp ink, and get to work.
Notice I’m too lazy to make my own ink by rubbing the inkstone in the well and adding water. I found this wonderful bottle of ink made for writing on wood boxes and it works better than home made. Something is added that makes it less fluid but still easy to write with, and it doesn’t have a tendency to bleed into the wood grain like straight water made ink does.
Here are all the boxes after being labeled with the type of pot contained, my name, and stamped. The stamp is the Chinese character ‘Ma’ or ‘Man’, which is the first syllable of my (Mike, or ma-i-ku) in Japanese. The character is normally written as 万 or 萬, but I looked up the ancient version and it is what you see on the boxes. If it looks like a bug to you that’s because it is, it’s a scorpion. Funny, the character ‘Man’ means ten thousand, I hope the poor bastard that first wrote that kanji didn’t encounter ten thousand scorpions for inspiration.
I like having the big red stamp on the boxes, as it draws the eye away from the severe case of PPCSD (Piss Poor Calligraphy Skill Disorder) of which I am sorely afflicted. I just repeat my mantra, “I’m a potter not a calligrapher” when I do a particularly bad run of boxes.
After all the signing is done and the brush is clean, I start preparing the paper lid cover, stamped cloth, and cord. Usually I’ve forgotten about the cloth and have cleaned and put away the stamps, so have to get the stamps and ink out again and stamp the cloth pieces. Here are the boxes with the paper, cords, and cloths all done. The whole process takes about 30 – 40 minutes per box, sometimes more if my mantra doesn’t work and I end up deciding to sand off the writing and try again.
And with their respective pots….
When we awoke to white this morning I thought it would be gone by midday. Well was I ever wrong. It’s continued with blizzard like conditions all day and if anything the snow is deeper than this morning. Needless to say, I’ve spent the day indoors rather than getting out and digging the holes for the concrete pilings for my kiln shed, not that I need a really serious excuse not to dig holes in the ground, which is something we’ve gotten a lot of since building the house and making the garden areas, planting trees, etc…
Anyway it was quiet and gorgeous on our walk this morning at 6am. Turns out Raz (the dog) loves the snow and just bounded around in it for the duration.
This has been the ‘best’ snow by far since we started living here. I had to take pictures, because it might be another 6 or 7 years before it happens again.
Here are a couple of things from the last firing. The two guinomi are glazed with an iron glaze and fired in saggars. The plate was fired normally. I was especially pleased with the matte surfaces of the guinomi, but the colors on the plate aren’t too shabby (in my humble opinion 😉 ) Naturally, I won’t post the crappy stuff that got hammered….