Yesterday, I spent the day with Japanese potter Hatori Yasumi. She demonstrated her processes at Piedmont College in Demorest, GA, north of Atlanta. It was a long drive on a rainy day, but well worth it as I had been in need of her exact type of inspiration. Sometimes, I struggle to maintain a connection with my own voice and sense of purpose with my passion for clay . . . my daily commitment of raising three children can sometimes drown it out.
Observing a potter from another country, especially Japan, is an incredible experience. Potters are revered in that culture and so there exists a feeling a dignity to their work and process that is palpable. Yusami comes from a village of 50 potters who work full time in their craft. The value of the work is such that 100,000 people come over the course of three days to purchase the pottery when her village (pop. 10,000) has their annual pottery sale. Watching her work, there was this peaceful, unhurried acceptance in her process . . . from the rhythmic strokes . . 50 one way . . . 50 another as she knelt on the floor to wedge her clay . . . to the time taken to center one large mound and throwing unmeasured cups off the hump . . . or the marks she left to tell the story of the pot . No smoothing, fixing, or endless adjusting.
In America, we are often consumed with the drive to be “perfect”, or to keep “improving” . . . an endless dissatisfaction and drive to make it “better.” This reflects in everything about our culture, down to and including our pottery tools. I found a beauty in the simplicity of Yasumi few, simple handmade tools, carefully cleaned after each use, and layed to dry on her cloth. I smiled to see her use the same wooden knife to trim the foot of a cup, and cut a rim of a slab built basket. (I have been caught in the trap of thinking I “need” yet another tool. . .)
In Japan, there exists a profound value for the intrinsic beauty of the material . . . and in allowing the process to inform. ”Wabi Sabi” is an important, even essential influence. . . it’s the finding of beauty in the imperfections . .. more even, that beauty cannot be found in the perfect, the blemish free. The appreciation of the pot is in the subtly of the scars or marks that show the journey, from the impuritiies found in the clay dug from the hillside in their local village . . . to marks left by the maker’s hands, a finger print, or a tool mark . . . to the glazing and firing process, perhaps the pattern left in one spot from where the pot rested on rice hulls in a post firing reduction, or the flame pattern from the wood used in the anagama firing). The beauty exists in what some might see as “wrong’ with the pot. It’s found in the intimacy of that information. . . . and the dialog this creates between the pot and the user.
Today I am feeling peaceful with the process. . . . whether it be my struggle to make beautiful pots. . . or my struggle to get to the studio when kids need everything kids need. Somehow, it makes whatever I produce (good kids or good pots) that much more precious and meaningful. Thank you Hatori Yasumi for reminding me. Peace be with you.
Sounds like a great workshop. I’m always fighting between goal & process. I would have gotten a lot from listening & watching her work. Great description – though I felt like I was –almost– there. Hope you get some quality time in your studio this week.