Here are some wabi-sabi bowls made in the studio, fresh out of the kiln, waiting to be filled with hot, hot soup, or cold, cold ice-cream. There are few things that we use on a several-times-a-day regular basis, over and over and over as we do the vessels we eat, drink and nourish ourselves from. I still remember bowls in the kitchen cabinet from when I was a kid--a mish mash of cheap bowls and platters from the good will of neighbors and Goodwill itself--that have made a significant imprint on my memory from the sheer daily use of them back then. The mere sight of a 70's era Corelle bowl or saucer sitting in a second-hand store today brings me right back to my mom's Vietnamese-Californian garlic and cilantro kitchen, and my childhood.
When I began working with clay and ceramics my first year in college, I also discovered the loveliness of eating from a vessel made by hand, my own hands. Like many things lost to the Industrial Revolution, hand made pots were cherished and celebrated before machines started churning them out of molds. Handmade ceramics go back millennia to Ancient Japan and Iran, even Vietnam (with the finest clay from the Red River Valley), and today, are a revered art form in those countries. Unlike the visual perfection of Chinese ceramics, Japanese and Vietnamese ceramics look to the heart to create. To watch a master Japanese or Vietnamese potter quietly, fluidly, intensely work on a piece, throwing, trimming, glazing, firing, is witnessing a skilled technician who is also totally in tune with the mud of earth, the origin of pigments, the quality of fire, and the Buddhist philosophy of compassion, flow, and appreciation. There is no artistic pretension. A teacher once told me, if you like your art to turn out exactly as you had planned and envisioned, don't do ceramics. But if you can take delight in the totally unexpected and imperfect, this is for you.
It is for me, and for my soup.
It is for me, and for my soup.
Posts
7 comments:
they're so pretty, there's one in the bottom right-hand corner that looks like it has a goldfish in it. or fried egg. hopefully not fried goldfish.
these are bowls that you just made? Impressive! What can't you do??? ukelele playing, writing, parenting, poetry, photography?? lol I assume you have a day job as if all that wasn't enough! Very cool. My dad is a photographer, plays the shakuhachi, and also did some pottery back in the day - your stuff, even though it's more to my liking than his, brings back vivid memories. I dig the philosophy side, too!
How awesome to create something by our own hands! I love the feeling of making and using what we created ourselves. I went to a shop in Santa Cruz called Petroglyph Ceramic Lounge on Walnut Ave. They have already made clay cups, plates, and other figurines where you're able to paint on them. They later put your creations into the "fire?" and gloss them. I don't exactly know how the process works but it's pretty rad. : )
ahem...one of those bowls better be coming to me through the mail service.
hey, whatever happened to the insightful and uplifting comment that i'd made here? did you pull it? hmmm...
anyhow, it is truly amazing watching you know who created one of these amazingly beautiful bowls and how more amazing it is to be a proud owner and displayer of this one of a kind work of arts and love. the immigrant within me would not let me use the bowl for soup. but it is prominently displayed in my living room and gives a beautiful home for my loose change.
btw, my bowl is almost full...ahem!
wow, these are amazing looking! i can think of many soup/noodle soup recipes to go with these bowls! they're perfect for NE winter!
thanks guys! i am not as prolific and good as everyone else in the studio, probably the worst, so there is a lot of good ceramists to learn from. porcupine: as you wish. anita: i didn't see anything earlier?! and you get another bowl only if you use it for food.
Post a Comment