|
Momoyama style mino ware designsMr. Watanabe showed a variety of Momoyama style Mino ware. Bowl on the top left, and tea bowls (chawan).
|
|
the story at the bottom of a tea bowl
Tea bowl, Shino type, Azuchi-Momoyama era (16th - 17th century)
The theme of this site is "Tajimi - a Seemingly Ordinary Japanese Town." When I first stepped out of Tajimi Station, everything looked very plain, even unexciting. Most Japanese cities do. But before I’d met a number of people who introduced me to the local world of pottery, I certainly had no idea of how important ceramics are to this town.
What is particular to Tajimi is how solid the infrastructure is for anything related to ceramics. There are a wealth of makers in all genres, shops, exhibitions and fairs, contests, galleries, museums, workshops, courses, and schools. People from all over the country gather here to shop, exhibit, educate themselves, and start a career as professional potters.
There is also a great degree of creative freedom in this city. It's a creator's paradise, in the sense that anything goes here. You can make anything you want, all the resources are in place, and there is an openness to any form of artistic expression. None of this was apparent to me the first time I stepped out of the station. What I saw was a seemingly ordinary, plain-looking Japanese cityscape.
There is not much information on Tajimi or the Mino region available in English. Mino is the old name of the province, and Minoyaki – or Mino ware – is the name for the ceramics produced here. Not only was I ignorant of the culture and history of Tajimi – I also had yet to discover how exciting pottery can be. What sort of thrill can you get from an old tea bowl, after all?
Well, it turns out that there’s a story lurking at the bottom of those dark, murky bowls. The story of Mino ware has more drama, political intrigue, blood, death, and obsession that you could ever imagine. In this first part of my series on pottery in Mino and Tajimi, we will explore how this culture of aesthetic perfection and political power play came into being.
What is particular to Tajimi is how solid the infrastructure is for anything related to ceramics. There are a wealth of makers in all genres, shops, exhibitions and fairs, contests, galleries, museums, workshops, courses, and schools. People from all over the country gather here to shop, exhibit, educate themselves, and start a career as professional potters.
There is also a great degree of creative freedom in this city. It's a creator's paradise, in the sense that anything goes here. You can make anything you want, all the resources are in place, and there is an openness to any form of artistic expression. None of this was apparent to me the first time I stepped out of the station. What I saw was a seemingly ordinary, plain-looking Japanese cityscape.
There is not much information on Tajimi or the Mino region available in English. Mino is the old name of the province, and Minoyaki – or Mino ware – is the name for the ceramics produced here. Not only was I ignorant of the culture and history of Tajimi – I also had yet to discover how exciting pottery can be. What sort of thrill can you get from an old tea bowl, after all?
Well, it turns out that there’s a story lurking at the bottom of those dark, murky bowls. The story of Mino ware has more drama, political intrigue, blood, death, and obsession that you could ever imagine. In this first part of my series on pottery in Mino and Tajimi, we will explore how this culture of aesthetic perfection and political power play came into being.
Trash from a golden age
Broken pottery from the Momoyama era - a golden age for Mino ware.
"I got these pieces of broken pottery when I was young, although I had no interest in them. The man who sold them to me was so insistent that I finally just thought, 'what the heck' and got the trash, hoping it would be useful someday."
Mr. Watanabe
It's not only creators who get fired up about pottery. Their fans can, too. Mr Watanabe, the owner of the Minoyaki-en ceramics shop in Tajimi, is virtually glowing with passion as he talks nonstop about the items on display. He has been walking us around the store for an hour already, picking up item after item, explaining the essence of Mino ware to me, a total beginner. Tajimi is situated in the middle of the Mino area in Gifu Prefecture, a region with an ancient pottery tradition. Mino ware, or Minoyaki in Japanese, is the pride of the people here.
We step into the second of his display rooms, which is underground and contains Mino ware from the Azuchi-Momoyama period, Watanabe's favourite era in the history of Japanese pottery. Watanabe stops by a collection of shards from ancient pottery from this era, looking down at the artifacts spread out inside a large glass box. It's funny to think that these ancient shards of discarded bowls and plates are now on display here when the good pottery from the same kiln vanished centuries ago.
We step into the second of his display rooms, which is underground and contains Mino ware from the Azuchi-Momoyama period, Watanabe's favourite era in the history of Japanese pottery. Watanabe stops by a collection of shards from ancient pottery from this era, looking down at the artifacts spread out inside a large glass box. It's funny to think that these ancient shards of discarded bowls and plates are now on display here when the good pottery from the same kiln vanished centuries ago.
Mural depicting potters in ancient times, Kasahara Town Hall, Tajimi
Who were the people who produced these wares? They were hard workers who endured heat and long work hours, sweated, toiled half naked, and fed the kiln with fire-wood for days and weeks up in the hills. I have to dig deeper to find out more about them, as they have vanished along with the pottery they made. They were men of Mino, the old pottery province, some of whom fled here from battlegrounds in neighbouring areas to settle down and work in peace.
Mino Province (美濃国 Mino no kuni), one of the old provinces of Japan, encompassed the southern part of modern-day Gifu Prefecture.
Firing mud into stone
The history of pottery in Japan goes back all the way to the Jōmon period (traditionally dated between c. 14,000–300 BCE, recently revised to 1000 BCE), when Japan was inhabited by a hunter-gatherer culture. Jōmon pottery is generally accepted to be the oldest in Japan and among the oldest in the world.
Middle Jomon Period rope pottery 5000–4000 BCE
"There is no way someone can look at my work and say 'it's been smooth sailing'. I'm dealing with a solid fuel, a labour intensive tool, and trying to fire mud into stone. [...] The work that goes into the kiln, has to stand up to the demands of wood-firing. The execution therefor is part cerebral and part partner with fire. - Peter Callas in "Wood-fired Ceramics: Contemporary Practices"
With the introduction of kiln technology from China and Korea, new creative opportunities opened up in Japan. Pottery developed over a period of thousands of years, from the relatively primitive Jōmon pottery to more advanced forms, and the appearance of new designs mostly had to do with the technology available (that is, what kind of kilns were used).
In prehistoric days, people simply fired the pottery directly on the ground. After the kiln was introduced and developed over time, it enabled potters to make new forms of pottery. For example, glazing needs high temperatures, and the kiln made these high temperatures – and thereby new forms of expression – possible. Higher temperatures also make possible the decoration of the wares with paint.
In prehistoric days, people simply fired the pottery directly on the ground. After the kiln was introduced and developed over time, it enabled potters to make new forms of pottery. For example, glazing needs high temperatures, and the kiln made these high temperatures – and thereby new forms of expression – possible. Higher temperatures also make possible the decoration of the wares with paint.
Single chamber type climbing kiln (anagama)
- 1: Door about 75cm wide
2: Firebox.
3: Stacking floor made of silica sand. The unfired pots are placed here.
4: Dampers, two - one for firing, the second to tightly shut the flue.
5: Flue.
6: Chimney 3m high.
7: Cast arch, made of heat resistant cement (castable).
"[The qualities of Anagama attracts us because of] the natural colours which blend with and enhance those of nature in a way that cannot be achieved with any other type of firing". - Estelle and Bruce Martin in "Wood-fired Ceramics: Contemporary Practices"
If you hike up into the mountains of Tajimi and its surrounding cities, you will find the remains of ancient so-called climbing kilns and discarded pottery on the ground. By building the kiln on a slanting hillside, the heat inside – up to 1400°C (2,500 °F) – would travel upwards, heating more than one part of the tube-shaped chamber’s interior. Later, the single chamber would be split up into several small ones. The firing of the wares in the upper chambers then only required additional fuel to bring the ware, walls and air to peak temperature. That was a big advantage, not only because it reduced the workload, but also because the supply of firewood was critical. The huge need for firewood led to deforestation around the production area, and the kiln would have to be moved until the forest grew back again, several decades later.
Multiple chamber climbing kiln in Shigaraki. The kiln dates back to the Edo era (1603 - 1868).
Painting with fire
The semi-subterranean anagama (climbing kiln) at the Kobegama in Tajimi was designed according to Momoyama era (1568 - 1615) principles. It is only fired once a year (this video was shot at the 2017 firing). Japanese red pine fire-wood is used, and when the ashes cover the pottery a "natural glazing" occurs. This makes possible the production of classic local styles, such as Shino ware.
These technological innovations and new creative possibilities made possible the creation of ever more refined wares – and the Japanese taste for irregular, nonlinear, natural shapes and lines in any kind of design – and led to the birth of what are now world-famous types of classic Japanese pottery.
In the intense heat of up to 1400°C (2,500 °F) from the burning wood, fly ash and volatile salts are produced, and wood ash settles on the pieces during the firing. Firings take days or even weeks. In the kiln, there is a dance of flame, ash, and minerals on the clay body, resulting in a natural ash glaze forming on the wares.
A multitude of factors plays into the final appearance of a piece. Was it placed close to or far away from the firebox? How close were its neighbouring pieces? How did the ash settle on the piece? Was it immersed in embers? How did oxidation affect it? What path did the flames take past the piece? All this and much more the potter must account for in his mind as he loads the anagama. He must mentally paint each piece with fire, so to speak. And after the firing, the equally long cooling-off cycle will affect its colouring, whether the piece will have a matt, semi-matt or shiny surface, and so forth.
In the intense heat of up to 1400°C (2,500 °F) from the burning wood, fly ash and volatile salts are produced, and wood ash settles on the pieces during the firing. Firings take days or even weeks. In the kiln, there is a dance of flame, ash, and minerals on the clay body, resulting in a natural ash glaze forming on the wares.
A multitude of factors plays into the final appearance of a piece. Was it placed close to or far away from the firebox? How close were its neighbouring pieces? How did the ash settle on the piece? Was it immersed in embers? How did oxidation affect it? What path did the flames take past the piece? All this and much more the potter must account for in his mind as he loads the anagama. He must mentally paint each piece with fire, so to speak. And after the firing, the equally long cooling-off cycle will affect its colouring, whether the piece will have a matt, semi-matt or shiny surface, and so forth.
"檜図 (Cypress Tree)", cirka 1590. Attributed to Kanō Eitoku [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Thousands of years of development of production techniques and kiln technology laid the ground for the golden age of Japanese pottery, the Azuchi-Momoyama era, which spanned about 40 years between the 16th and 17th centuries. During this era, Mino ware reached its greatest heights – in Mino, the old pottery production centre, where Tajimi, my new home town, is located.
FLIGHT OF THE SETO POTTERS TO SAFETY IN MINO
Most potters today prefer gas or electric kilns to wood-fired ones, since the results are much more predictable. Yet the enthusiasm for traditionally produced pottery is still there. I feel it strongly in my interview with Watanabe, who is a Momoyama pottery enthusiast and seller.
"I wish you had come here ten years earlier," he says. "These days, most people can't understand the fine qualities of Momoyama pottery."
"How about the makers?" I ask.
Watanabe replies without hesitation. "They try hard, but there aren't many potters around that can come even close to the old masters."
"Why is that?"
"Well, in the Momoyama era, people wanted the real thing, and potters had to deliver. You can compare this to the katana (Japanese sword). In the Momoyama era, a civil war was raging in Japan. They were dangerous times. You wanted a sword that could really cut, and wouldn't break. Your life depended on it. That's why Momoyama swords are perfect."
Later, during the hundreds of years of peace in the Edo era, sword-makers delivered not a weapon, but a symbol of power to the samurai, he explains. In Watanabe's opinion, that also meant that the sword lost its essence. The essence wasn't in demand any longer, just a beautiful shape. The same goes for pottery. Only original Momoyama-era pottery embodies the essence as well as the appearance of Mino ware.
So who were these people who had such high demands? The equivalent of the warriors that needed truly effective, as well as beautiful, swords?
"I wish you had come here ten years earlier," he says. "These days, most people can't understand the fine qualities of Momoyama pottery."
"How about the makers?" I ask.
Watanabe replies without hesitation. "They try hard, but there aren't many potters around that can come even close to the old masters."
"Why is that?"
"Well, in the Momoyama era, people wanted the real thing, and potters had to deliver. You can compare this to the katana (Japanese sword). In the Momoyama era, a civil war was raging in Japan. They were dangerous times. You wanted a sword that could really cut, and wouldn't break. Your life depended on it. That's why Momoyama swords are perfect."
Later, during the hundreds of years of peace in the Edo era, sword-makers delivered not a weapon, but a symbol of power to the samurai, he explains. In Watanabe's opinion, that also meant that the sword lost its essence. The essence wasn't in demand any longer, just a beautiful shape. The same goes for pottery. Only original Momoyama-era pottery embodies the essence as well as the appearance of Mino ware.
So who were these people who had such high demands? The equivalent of the warriors that needed truly effective, as well as beautiful, swords?
A powerful warlord and an enthusiastic amateur tea man, Oda Nobunaga made every effort to surround himself with tea masters. The image is an artist's rendering of the moments before he meets death at his own hands, in June, 1582, at the Honnō-ji Temple in Kyoto.
Throughout the history of civilization, fine pottery has always been a luxury product. It requires a long, hard, and risky production process. Such expensive and desirable objects naturally attract the attention of the wealthy and powerful. In Japan, pottery came to play a crucial role in high-society social life because of the tea ceremony. And in the relatively short Azuchi-Momoyama era, the tea ceremony came to be closely connected to political life.
The Momoyama era is the final phase of the Sengoku period (Sengoku jidai) in Japan, the years of civil war and destruction. It was a dangerous time, a time of power struggles between mighty warlords. In our story of Mino pottery, too, several key players died gruesome, horrible deaths.
One of them was Oda Nobunaga, the first of the three giants among the warlords who helped unite the country. Apart from being a very successful and ambitious warrior, he was also an enthusiastic tea man who made every effort to surround himself with tea masters. It may be hard to see the connection between such a tranquil activity as a tea ceremony and military ambition and violence. However, if we consider the fact that the ceramic utensils necessary for the ceremony, such as tea kettles and bowls, were very elaborate and expensive status symbols, it's not far-fetched to see how they could be used as tools for persuasion in a political power play. Indeed, Nobunaga did just that. The simple tea bowl became a tool of persuasion, the tea room a space for intrigue.
It was in this context of war and constant danger that the poor potters fled from the battlegrounds of Seto to neighbouring Mino. They arrived with masters such as Kato Kagemitsu (1513-1585), who relocated here in 1574 and introduced some of the styles that would come to be regarded as some of the finest in the world of Japanese pottery.
He was the personal protégé was none other Oda Nobunaga.
The Momoyama era is the final phase of the Sengoku period (Sengoku jidai) in Japan, the years of civil war and destruction. It was a dangerous time, a time of power struggles between mighty warlords. In our story of Mino pottery, too, several key players died gruesome, horrible deaths.
One of them was Oda Nobunaga, the first of the three giants among the warlords who helped unite the country. Apart from being a very successful and ambitious warrior, he was also an enthusiastic tea man who made every effort to surround himself with tea masters. It may be hard to see the connection between such a tranquil activity as a tea ceremony and military ambition and violence. However, if we consider the fact that the ceramic utensils necessary for the ceremony, such as tea kettles and bowls, were very elaborate and expensive status symbols, it's not far-fetched to see how they could be used as tools for persuasion in a political power play. Indeed, Nobunaga did just that. The simple tea bowl became a tool of persuasion, the tea room a space for intrigue.
It was in this context of war and constant danger that the poor potters fled from the battlegrounds of Seto to neighbouring Mino. They arrived with masters such as Kato Kagemitsu (1513-1585), who relocated here in 1574 and introduced some of the styles that would come to be regarded as some of the finest in the world of Japanese pottery.
He was the personal protégé was none other Oda Nobunaga.
END OF PART ONE
About the Mino Ware Styles
Throughout the centuries, four styles of Mino were developed that differ from each other in appearance. These have strong connections to the tea ceremony:
- Ki-Seto ware: Yellow is the predominant colour.
- Setoguro ware: Black is the predominant colour.
- Shino ware: Style is often grey with autumn grasses in white as a prominent theme. This result is achieved by incising through a slip of iron oxide and covered with feldspar glaze. In the oven, the fire would bring out variations in colour through the uneven glaze.
- Oribe ware: Green and black are the predominant colours.
maPS
Discover the Mecca of pottery in Japan
Produced by Mimir LLC, a VR company