Studio: international art (46.1909)

The Cha-no-yu Pottery of Japan

which must have an abiding fascination for those
who care to trace the causes which governed their
making.

The simplicity of the Cha-no-yu pottery is not,
as some writers have described it to be, a matter
of mere affectation or pretence, for underlying it
are some of the soundest principles of art—prin-
ciple which have governed the production of all
forms of construction in the greatest periods of
the world’s history. Of these principles Utility
and Truth are the first essentials. A building, no
matter how important or how humble it may be,
that does not entirely fill the purpose for which it is
required in its greatest and its smallest needs, must
be correspondingly imperfect; and one that makes
any pretence of being what it is not in any of its
features fails in an equal degree in its aesthetic value.

What is true of the higher forms of constructive
art is equally true of the less important ones. The
essentials of Utility and Truth are applicable to
the productions of the workers in wood, metal and
clay, as in those of brick and stone; and any
departure therefrom can but result in proportionate
failure. Inordinate pretension is destructive of all
that is best in art. It may please those who are
intent only on new experiences and sensations, but
it will not stand the test of time and can never be
a source of deep and lasting gratification. As we
more carefully study the features which distinguish
the Cha-no-yu pottery, we find that these essentials
of art are carried out within certain limitations, in
a most remarkable degree.

It is impossible to say what were the precise
regulations which the masters of the cult formulated
for the observance of the potter, as they, doubtless,
varied according to the individual views held by
them, but we know sufficiently of the main tenour of
their ideas to enable us to perceive that all that was
false and meretricious was rigidly tabooed, and that
the result of their efforts accorded entirely with
the most severe of Western conventions.

Let us take as an illustration of this point, the
tea bowls of the Chojiro family, commonly known
as Raku ware. I do so because, in the first place,
this ware has been regarded in Japan as one of the
most thoroughly satisfactory ones used in the tea
ceremony; and secondly, because it has probably
been less understood and more completely vilified
in the West than any other class of Japanese
ceramics. The bowl or cha-wan is a most im-
portant item in the function. In it the powdered
tea is thrown and well mixed, by the aid of a little
bamboo whisk, with hot water. It is then passed
round by the guests to each other with some show

of ritual after the manner of a loving cup at a
Lord Mayor’s feast.

Chojiro lived in the sixteenth century in the
days of Hideyoshi, who was a great patron of
the cult of the Cha-no-yu, and who presented to
the potter a gold seal in token of his appreciation
of the ware produced by him. The same class of
ware with slight variations has been made by
eleven successive generations of potters up to
the present day. The example to which I would
now draw detailed attention is by Doniu or
Nonko, the grandson of Chojiro, who died a.d.
1657 (Fig. 1, p. 32). It is modelled in a brown
clay entirely by hand without the aid of a potter’s
wheel. The impressions of the fingers made in
shaping the bowl are carefully retained. The clay
is coarse and soft and the walls of the vessel are
therefore rather thick, but become much thinner
towards the rim, which is slightly inclined inwards.
The whole is covered with a heavy glaze, apparently
black when first seen but after close examination
found to be translucent, with many shades of red,
green and yellow appearing below the surface.
Spots of varying size are left in irregular positions
outside the bowl in which the clay body is uncovered
by the glaze. The seal “ Raku ” is impressed at
the bottom of the vessel. Before examining it in
detail most amateurs would find it to be a some-
what unpromising looking object, and even after
such an examination would still condemn it as
unattractive. And yet this bowl with others of
similar character has received the highest measure
of praise from those leaders of taste who repre-
sented the innate spirit which controlled so much
ol what is best and purest in Japanese art.
Wherein lies its art ? In the first place by fulfilling
satisfactorily the purpose for which it is made. Its
soft, coarse clay is a non-conductor of heat and
allows it to be clasped with comfort by the fingers
although it be filled with hot tea ; its heavy glaze
protects the porous clay from contamination by
the tea; its shape enables it to be held securely
and passed from one person to another without
fear of spilling the contained liquor. In the
second place, its art is displayed in the evidences
which it bears of the human element which con-
ceived and produced it—in the fingering of the
body, in the knowledge with which the glaze has
been applied, in the care which has been taken to
reserve some portion of the clay free for examina-
tion ; and, finally, in its unpretentiousness, in its
frank avowal of subordination, in the open admis-
sion of its humble origin. In the days of the great
Hideyoshi, when war was rife, when luxury was

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