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Japan
Dick Lehman's Japan Travelogue
(Part 2)
JUNE 4, 2002
An 11-Course Meal, Mishima Style
Kohiki Potter Hanaoka Yutaka and Dick Lehman
By good fortune, I arrived at the Kyoto Station at just the right
time to catch the Hikari Super Express Train to Mishima. I arrived
at the Mishima Station at about 4 pm, made a phone call to Robert
Yellin, and within a few minutes we were walking back to his E-Yakimono.Net
office. While Robert completed some end-of-the-day work, I had a
wonderful hour to begin to peruse his extensive library, and handle
the many pots that, up to now, I've only seen as images on Robert's
japanesepottery.com
site and e-yakimono.net.
It was a generous visual feast, and a wonderful initiation to my
time in Mishima. After an hour we walked less than half a block
to continue our feast (Course #2), this time at a neighborhood restaurant,
where choosing from the day's specialties was as easy as selecting
from the freshly made daily entrees positioned in generous bowls
on the bar in front of our seats. And what a timely evening to have
been "in the neighborhood" -- as it was the night of the
Japan/Portugal World Cup Soccer game. The delightfully raucous crowd
seemed a warm welcome to the neighborhood, even though our host
behind the counter felt the need to apologize for their behavior.
"They become like children again," she nodded. I could
only smile.
Later that night at his home, Robert introduced me to a significant
portion of his collection of ochoko sake cups and tokkkuri sake
bottles. The "meal" continued (Course #3) as we spent
several hours learning to know (in the only real way that one can
come to know these sake utensils) a significant number of these
gems -- pouring and sipping with a certain restraint, but enjoying
with abandon. I was particularly moved by the Furutani
Michio and the Kakurezaki
Ryuichi cups, which were sensitively bold and spiritual
little works that spoke of more than sake -- works which told us
about the life and heart and spirit of their makers.
The next morning (Course #4), we unpacked a new shipment of yellow
Seto works that had just arrived at Robert's office, followed by
a hour in the "back room" (Course #5) with permission
to look through the stacks and stacks of paulownia-boxed pots, untying
and retying the silk cords as a ritual pause between each delightful
discovery.
After lunch we went to visit Hanaoka Yutaka (Course #6). Hanaoka
is a potter who makes "kohiki" ware (dark iron-bearing
clay, covered with white slip, and glazed with a clear glaze).
"I'm firing my strange anagama today," said Hanaoka.
"But you may come for a visit." His "strange"
anagama, as it turned out, was designed more like my own unconventional
wood-fired kiln than any other kiln I have ever seen (see below
photos). We shared a laugh when I showed him photos of my equally
"strange" design. However, instead of using it for long
15-day "yakishime" firings as I have been doing, Hanaoka
san was using his kiln for shorter firings, bringing the glazed
pots to 1270 degrees centigrade in roughly 28 hours.
Hanaoka Yutaka's "Strange" Kiln
Dick Lehman's "Strange" Kiln
A large storeroom (Course #7) of these quiet and austere kohiki
works was opened to us. I was nearly overwhelmed with the simplicity
and quietness of a large body of these works, all located in one
place. But I managed to select a few cups, a bowl, a tray and a
sake server to take home with me. And since returning home and having
begun to use these works, I have started (Course #8) to understand
their understated genius. Can you imagine the sublime violet-colored
reflected light emanating from the inside of one of these pearlescent
little facetted cups when filled with my homemade gooseberry wine?
Or just imagine the four-footed rectangular tray offering sauted
zucchini flowers fresh from my garden. Allow yourself the enjoyable
thought of homemade dandelion wine, the color of springtime, being
poured from the sake server.
Five Kohiki Mentori Cups by Hanaoka Yutaka
Supper was portside in Numazu City (Course #9), at a sushi restaurant
right across from the fish docks, where I ordered the local special
(fish caught in local waters). Upon Robert's recommendation, I also
had the freshest sushi I have ever eaten (Course #10). In almost
less time than it takes to read this, the fish was caught with a
net from the tank, scaled, filleted, de-boned, and the resulting
filets cut into bite-size pieces. The remaining head/backbone/tail
was skewered and bent into a basket shape and nestled on a snow-white
pile of shredded daikon (radish), the bite-size morsels nestled
into the "basket," and the plate set in front of me. As
I touched it with my chopsticks to take my first bite, the nervous
reflexes of the moments-ago-swimming-fish, caused its mouth and
gill flaps to open and close, a behavior it "chose" to
continue throughout the duration of my delicious feast!
The evening closed, and my time in Numazu came to an end with a
visit to Brian Baird's Fishmarket Taproom (Course #11), a US-style
microbrewery located portside in Numazu City. I'm not entirely sure
that it was not the effects of my third round of Rising Sun Ale,
but in that moment I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the
idiosyncratic assemblage in which I found myself that evening --
me, an American potter in Japan to study Japanese ceramic traditions
and to help edit a Japanese pottery text, sitting in a Japanese
bar run by an American who brews Japanese beer in the Pacific-Northwest
style (the brewery is modeled after a small brewery just 60 miles
from my house in Indiana), while seated next to me is Robert Yellin,
an American who lives in Japan, runs two web sites, writes for the
Japan Times, and specializes in ceramic education. Together, here
in this place after having eaten the freshest sushi ever consumed!
A truly resplendent evening!
© July 2002 by Dick
Lehman. All rights reserved
Further reading: Kohiki
Ware
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