Translator: Hiroko Kawano Reviewer: Kayoko Shiomi
Handling a tea bowl, or "chawan," in your hands
can be like holding a universe in your palms.
These tea bowls are living objects that can draw you into their depths,
just as you may be filled with wonder gazing into the starry night sky.
Inside that universe lies the power of intention,
instilled by the maker.
Some are blessed by names
assigned by either tea masters, Zen priests or even the owners.
They're selected along with other utensils
to enhance the theme of that day's tea gathering.
Normally, they are housed in a custom-made wooden box
signed by the maker, such as these.
Each one has its own history.
Each one has a story to tell.
Functionally, these tea bowls act as a bridge
between the tea host and you, the guest.
Passed from hand to hand, connecting one heart to another,
the tea bowl contains an offering of pure nature:
the whisked green tea we call "matcha."
It is presented to you
in a spirit of harmony, respect, purity and tranquility
for your contentment and your well-being.
It is truly a precious gift of peace.
Today, I have brought three of my "children" to share with you.
This first bowl was made in 2010.
It was inspired by my fascination with the shape of the tea seedpod.
I love the fullness of the form and the lobes -
a sort of perfect imperfection -
a term I often use when talking about asymmetrical tea bowls.
The rounded shape flowed out of my hands when I made it on the potter's wheel.
As I pushed the soft clay out, indented the sides and trimmed the foot
to create a form similar to the three-lobed tea seedpod.
Yet, none of my glazes seemed to fit this piece,
so I put it aside and I forgot about it.
About a year later, in 2011,
I was asked to help make a documentary film for NHK,
after the devastating earthquake and tsunami in Tohoku.
The name of the program was called “An Encounter with Green Tea."
While filming,
I became aware that after the harvesting of the green tea each year,
the prunings were being thrown away.
This seemed to me like such a waste,
so I said to the president of the tea company, Mr. Koyama,
"Please send them to my studio.
I'm hoping to make them into a glaze and recycle them."
To the best of my knowledge,
in the 700 years of tea-ceramics history in Japan,
no one had ever thought of this idea.
Fortunately for me, the gods seemed to like it.
With no time for even a test-firing,
the director of the program asked me to fire a tea bowl
because he wanted to take it out directly out of the kiln
and use it for the finale of the program.
This was definitely a long shot, but I didn't have any choice.
So it dawned on me -
when I was trying to decide what bowl to use -
it dawned on me that I had made this bowl a year earlier,
and it was sitting in my studio, just waiting for the opportunity:
"Ichigo-Ichie," a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
Then, without hesitation, I glazed and loaded it into the kiln,
prayed to the kiln gods.
Fortunately, they were listening.
The results were beyond our expectations.
The new glaze fluxed, but not too completely,
resulting in this unusual surface texture we call "kai-ra-gui."
Even before the bowl had a chance to cool, I took it out of the kiln red-hot
and took it immediately to Kyoto,
to a famous tea room at the Jukou-in Temple,
part of the Daitokuji monastery, and the resting place of Sen no Rikyu.
There I had the honor to make tea for the head priest and Mr. Koyama,
who, upon seeing this bowl,
with a warm smile on his face and sort of a surprised look,
he said, "My, this bowl is in the shape of a tea seedpod!"
Soon after the filming ended,
I took this bowl to Dr. Sen Genshitsu,
the 15th-generation, former Grand Master of the Urasenke School of Tea,
my longtime mentor.
Dr. Sen had also played a major role in the making of this documentary.
He graciously inscribed the box
with a new name for the glaze, "Chabai-Yu,"
and he honored the bowl with the name "Cha no Mi,"
meaning "tea seedpod."
In retrospect, unconsciously creating this organic form,
so intimately connected to the way of tea,
seemed to predetermine my being chosen for the role in this documentary.
It also led me to discover this tea ash glaze,
thus opening a new page in the history of tea ceramics
and one that I continue to experiment with today.
The next bowl I would like to introduce you to
was made about 15 years ago
at my new studio in Concord, Massachusetts.
I had been combining American materials with my Japanese glazes
in hope of creating a new style,
something that would combine unique aspects of both countries.
Little did I know at the time
what a major role this bowl would play in my career.
My intention, which is so essential in the making of every tea bowl,
was to develop a work that would express this idea.
The challenge to make a bowl in America
that would have an aura of timelessness and spirit
similar to the Japanese classics,
one that would hold up to the intense scrutiny
with which tea bowls are subjected to here in Japan.
When this bowl emerged from the kiln,
there was no doubt in my mind that it was destined to go back to Kyoto.
This was a piece that needed to be seen by Dr. Sen.
Dr. Sen Genshitu has spent over 70 years as Japan's foremost cultural ambassador,
spreading the way of tea around the world,
forty of those years as the head of the Urasenke School of Tea.
And he continues today at the youthful age of 95
to tirelessly preach his life's motto,
which is "Peace through a bowl of tea."
From the time of our chance first encounter,
at the Japan House Gallery in New York City back in 1979,
our fates have been deeply intertwined.
I've been honored to share in his quest
for peace through Cha-dou and tea ceramics,
and in my case, in particular, tea bowls.
Almost 35 years ago, Dr. Sen honored me with the Japanese name, "RICHADO."
"RICHADO" uses the kanji "RI"
from his ancestor and the legendary tea master Sen no Rikyu.
"CHA," of course, means "tea,"
and "DO" meaning "clay."
He also named my kiln in Japan "RICHADO Gama."
"Gama" meaning kiln, as you can see above.
One day, late in the summer of 2004,
after bringing this bowl back from America to show Dr. Sen,
I was asked to come by Urasenke to retrieve it.
Coincidentally, that day happened to be the 25th anniversary
of the first day that I was initiated
into the 400-year-old Urasenke tradition of tea.
To my amazement, Dr. Sen had written an inscription on the lid of the box,
naming this bowl with the perfect English word "Canyon,"
written in katakana, the Japanese alphabet for foreign words.
"Canyon" -
the steep inner walls of the interior, looking over the rim,
combined with the flow of multiple glazes,
swirling together inside the base.
The undulating contours of the form
and the shifting layers of glaze colors,
so similar to the beauty of the weathered earth.
Add to these,
the red clay made in America.
Here you can see variations brought on by natural light as well.
This simple yet powerful name, "Canyon," captured them all.
Its scenery was so reminiscent of the great canyons of America,
the land where it was born,
and yet it was christened here in Japan.
You really need to hold this bowl in your hands to fully appreciate it.
When it works, it has an aura that you can feel;
the guests can absorb these features with their senses
as they partake of the pure green tea,
leading them to a spirit of peace within
as well as with their surroundings.
Realizing that this tea bowl had finally bridged the gap between America and Japan,
it felt like the perfect time
to ask Dr. Sen about a name for my new American studio.
Without any hesitation,
he said, “KONKO GAMA, of course,"
and before I even -
as if he had thought of the name before I'd even asked.
And this he wrote out that very same day,
naming the studio.
This name comes from assigning Chinese characters, or kanji,
to the Japanese pronunciation of the word "Concord":
“KONKODO" -
the "DO" at the end is dropped.
And the kanji for "KON" and "KO" can mean "new" and "old"
or "now and then."
Appropriately, the first kanji, "KON," is the same
as the first kanji of the most hallowed space in the Urasenke complex,
"Kon-nichi-an," meaning "tea hut for today."
This is a tea house that has existed for 370 years.
Ironically, the town of Concord, Massachusetts,
was incorporated 15 years earlier, in 1635.
This tea bowl brought together so many things,
and the fact that it was made in Concord,
where I happened to find a new home and a studio and built a studio.
How the Japanese reading "Konko" can be associated with creating new works
in an old town, in a new country,
using an old glaze from Japan with a new glaze from America.
The result -
a magical balance of old and new,
here and there,
now and then -
synchronicity in the world of tea.
The third tea bowl that I would like to show you today
is very different.
Unlike the other two,
it is in the classic black Oribe style
with roots going back over 400 years.
Made in 2008,
it uses traditional materials in glazes,
but I consciously chose to use a Western symbol
meaning "No more"
in place of the usual random geometric designs,
usually seen on black Oribe tea bowls.
The intent was to present my own anti-nuclear, anti-war sentiment.
Coincidentally, this actual form was made in 2008,
when President Obama was first elected on a platform of change.
His determination to move the world away from nuclear weapons and war
encouraged me to make this personal statement.
And this tea bowl seemed to provide
the ideal metaphor for the task at hand.
Similar to any peace process, it has many uneven facets,
no matter which side it is seen from.
Nevertheless, the "No more" symbol is intentionally depicted in black and white
because ultimately, the road to peace requires a choice.
My hope was to present this bowl to Mr Obama.
Its message that a simple bowl for tea can be a powerful vehicle for peace.
After living with the Japanese people for over 40 years,
I truly feel how much they yearn for world peace
and an end to nuclear weapons.
Anyone visiting the memorials in Hiroshima or Nagasaki
painfully understands
what the use of these devastating weapons against fellow human beings meant
and that they can never, must never be used again.
Unfortunately, this bowl's destiny is still a mystery.
It has yet to find a home.
Still, I do maintain hope that someday, somehow
it will play a role in the elimination of these terrible weapons
and encourage us to join together for the benefit of our planet,
and for future generations
in a meditative environment
of harmony, respect, purity, tranquility,
and gratitude.
Thank you very much.
(Applause)