A tea bowl made by an experienced potter fits perfectly in the hand and gives a peaceful comfort. Tea bowls are curious pottery. A number of potters have challenged to make tea bowls, and present their work into the world so far. Although I am not specialised in the tea ceremony, encountering a tea bowl as a fine, beautifully made pottery object makes me happy, no matter how old it is or if it is created by a contemporary potter.

What is beautiful is not based on how fine the outer features are. Besides, beauty is not something eccentric, or loud like Basara, the sense of aesthetic that was developed in the Nanboku-cho period. What is beautiful is something that is made within a series of processes: a quiet analysis; physical relationship with clay; creating glazes; intimate communication with the kiln; and having some support from luck. I like the pieces not made overnight but developed over a long period of time, from which the aesthetic of the artist is not loudly yet certainly oozing out.

It was more than ten years ago when I first met the potter, Yoshihiko Yoshida. He resides in a mountain of Kani City located in the former Mino Province, and surrounded by the world of pottery. When determined young Yamada visited Mashiko City in Tochigi Prefecture to see Shoji Hamada, the master potter in folk craft pottery, he was introduced to Toyozo Arakawa, who worked hard for the revival of Shino ware from the Momoyama period. Yamada ended up having two masters to follow, but he was Arakawa’s only apprentice. Yamada has never boasted about it, but this is a known fact by some people. Yamada is now in his eighties.

In his residence, an old Japanese house, there are many items are on display: a collection of dyed fabrics; wooden works from Asian or African countries; earthenwares; Buddhist artefacts; among others. Daily life is in amongst the items of beauty selected by Yamada himself, and far away from the noise of the outside world.

His eyes towards things are gentle but sharp. When you see well, you create well. But only looking at flowers won’t be able to capture their figures and beauty. The same goes for pottery making. The secret is hidden deep in the eyes.

Some contemporary bowls seem to only be shapes. They are not poor, but sometimes they are empty. Bowls but not only bowls. Tea bowls have become a deeply serious form of pottery due to their characteristic, as if they connect with the base of spirits.

Seto-guro (Seto-black) is one kind of tea bowl created in Mino. They were fired in the late sixteenth Century during the Tensho era, hence are also called ‘Tensho-guro’ (Tensho-black). They are characterised as thin, cylindrical tea bowls in jet black. This is one of the potteries that was revitalised by Toyozo Arakawa. Seto-guro are fired after an iron glaze called ‘Oni-ita’ is applied, made by mixing ash of small branches with iron oxide. After firing at a high heat, we take the bowls out from the kiln and put them in cold water. For the best result, it is essential to have sharp eyes and deep experience at the moment of the rapid cooling process.

The best aspect of Seto-guro comes in its old-monk-like appearance.
The artisan use of the potter’s wheel; the standing figure from the base; the harmony within black; the ups and downs in the road of the rim of the bowl. It is a joy to find various landscapes within pottery. When we hold a tea bowl, this precious moment comes to us.

I don’t know if black is a colour containing everything. But playing in an esoteric world is a part of the pondering of life.

Masahito Kurotani, Director, genra art