Mock Fish

Advanced skills are elementary skills, just as the greatest joys are the simplest ones. During my many discussions with my friend Hashimoto Touru about Japanese cuisine, he has pointed out that the high art of Japanese Kaiseki cuisine is based on good old fashioned home cooking. Food was prepared to be served to the master of the house and guests, and certain homes became renowned for their hospitality. As more guests came to these homes with gifts, these homes became more prepared for greeting those guests, and so in time places which specialised in hospitality emerged. That is the root of the hospitality industry, and I think that holds true in any culture.

Pottery emerged in a similar fashion from the need for vessels in the home in ancient times, and as different families began to specialize in particular trades, so too pottery became a profession. Perhaps not the oldest, but fairly close!

I began potting when I was about 14, working part time in studios near my home. Even then functional pottery was what I wanted most to do, and it was the lifestyle and the humanistic nature of the art that interested me most. When I was young I found myself in a position where I needed to question conventional values and find answers that would help me achieve my potential. Pottery allowed me to explore art, science and philosophy, while building my physical strength and dexterity, all in collaboration with the basic forces of nature, and then to give that a form that was beautiful and functional, communicating my feelings to others in an intimate way. It is a career that continues to be challenging and from which I will never retire, and the pots that I make will hopefully bring joy to generations to come.

I have been working with chefs since the '90s, and it began with my desire for my pots to be used and to improve the quality and practicality of my work. In order to make good pots one must know how to use them, so I have always enjoyed cooking and serving food on my work. I am not, however a professional chef, and felt that I needed the input of a professional chef. I also needed to "test drive" the results, so the collaborations began. I love the process of making and firing the work, the preparation and serving of the food, and the ultimate enjoyment of sharing a meal with those I love.

There have been many challenges along the way, not the least of which has been trying to gain the understanding both of the public and my family and friends that pottery is an Art and a Career, not just a glorified hobby. Working with chefs and sharing my vessels in a restaurant atmosphere has been a wonderful opportunity to help that understanding, and the photographs of the work with food have helped to communicate that idea. However, I started to find people saying that the food they cook at home could not do justice to the pottery, and was incomparable to the cuisine served by professional chefs.



Which brings me back to my original point, that even the best of cuisine is based on the simplest of origins; enjoying food in the home with the people you love. One of my favourite meals in all the world is a simple dish that my Mum used to make called Mock Fish. It is made from potatoes mainly, and I have memories of Mum making batch after batch while my brothers and I devoured them with lashings of tomato relish. So when a friend brought me some home grown spuds, onions and tomatoes the other day, and eggs were cheap, I cooked up a batch, and served them with a sprig of dill from the garden. I took a photo of it and that has been at the top of my blog ever since. The simplest of foods, served in the simplest of ways, on hand crafted vessels, enjoyed with the people you love. What could be more nourishing for the body and the spirit?

MOCK FISH　(My Version!)

1 Large Onion, diced
5 Eggs
80g Plain Flour
1 Level Teaspoons of Salt
1 Level Teaspoon of White Pepper
5ml White Vinegar
1kg Finely Grated Potato

Olive Oil to Shallow fry

Add the ingredients to a large bowl in the order shown, and mix each potato into the mixture as it is grated. This will avoid the potato oxidizing and turning brown. When thoroughly mixed, fry 100ml dollops of mixture on medium heat for three minutes each side till golden brown. Serve as shown in the photo, sandwiched with a slice of fresh tomato and a sprig of fennel, or with lashings of tomato relish. They're really nice cold too! 　　
　　

Wabi Sabi

Just as in English there is a whole vocabulary available for the discussion of Art and Beauty, so too does such a vocabulary exist in Japanese. There is a tendency among people with a passion for and some experience in Japanese art to use the word “Wabi sabi”, and yet so little understanding of what the term refers to. Leonardo da Vinci said that, “If you cannot explain something, you don’t understand it.” To be anecdotal for a moment, there was one young American anthropologist who had studied pottery briefly in Mashiko, who gave a slide lecture here to coincide with an exhibition of American ceramics. Anything in his slides which seemed even vaguely Japanese influenced he described as possessing “Wabi sabi”. One of the thirty or so professional Japanese potters in the audience enquired, “What do you mean by Wabi sabi?” He laughed as he responded, “Nobody knows what Wabi sabi means!” The entire audience laughed also, but the young gentleman never realized that it was not because they agreed with him, but because of his naivety. Wabi sabi is not some mystical secret, but a basic aesthetic principal. Merely because he didn’t understand it doesn’t mean that it cannot be understood.

Historically “Wabi sabi” was first coined by Sen Rikyu, the founder of the Japanese tea ceremony. Tea was used as a political tool at that time, and the Daimyou, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, often invited political opponents to enjoy tea with him. The sheer richness and lavishness of his style of tea were designed to impress and intimidate. In contrast to this Sen Rikyu proposed a style of tea which was about simplicity and minimalism. Essentially the tea ceremony is about enjoying a nice cup of tea, with all of the five senses. The word for “Delicious” in Japanese is “Oishii” which literally translates as “Beautiful flavour”. So, tea was about beauty. Beauty of sound, of touch, of taste, of fragrance, of vision. If all five senses are to be involved then it is imperative to control the environment in which the ceremony takes place, hence the birth of the tea house and garden. For Sen Rikyu, beauty was not about lavishness. What he proposed was that by eliminating all of the extraneous clutter it was possible to appreciate the essential quality of beauty.

Etymologically, “Wabi sabi” is based on the root forms of two adjectives, both of which are generally translated as “Lonely”. “Wabishii” however focuses on the object which is lonely, where as “Sabishii” focuses on the absence which makes the object lonely. The principal of “Wabi sabi” is therefore; Beauty reduced to its simplest form, and that form brought to a peak of focus by its relationship with the space in which it exists. That is to say, the presence of an object and the presence of the space interacting to strengthen each other.

The idea that space has presence is not new. Two and a half thousand years ago the Greek philosopher Parmenides proposed that it is impossible for anything which exists to conceive of anything which does not exist and that therefore even the space between objects “exists”. This remains in modern English as the concept that “I have nothing”. In Japanese however, it is grammatically impossible for “Nothing” (Nanimo) to exist (aru). “Nothing” (Nanimo) must be followed by “Is not” (nai). The idea of the presence of a space was therefore revolutionary.

To take it one step further, a tea bowl, being a vessel, is defined by the space it contains. It is not the pot which is important, but the space. In the tea bowl it is therefore possible to have the object (Wabi) and the space (Sabi) interacting within the same pot.

There is a story about Sen Rikyu having a hedge of Morning glory planted in his tea garden, and Toyotomi Hideyoshi was to enjoy the tea ceremony when it blossomed. On the morning of the ceremony, the hedge was in full bloom, a swathe of pink flowers. Sen Rikyu came along and clipped off every flower, saving only the single most perfect blossom, which he displayed in the tea house. Had he left the flowers as they were this single blossom would have been lost in the crowd. In the space of the tea house, however, it was beautiful beyond compare. That is the essence of “Wabi sabi”.

Toyotomi Hideyoshi was apparently extremely angry, and it is interesting to note that shortly afterward Sen Rikyu was forced to commit “Seppuku” suicide.

The long and the short of it is that “Wabi sabi” is about simplifying the beauty of nature to its essential elements, and the vitality brought to that beauty by the mutual interaction of object and space, even within the same object. That which is not there is just as important as that which is. This concept has pervaded the Japanese aesthetic and is not confined to pottery, but can be found in any art, including literature and cuisine. It does not exist in every piece of art work, though, and care should be taken in using the term appropriately. It does not mean somber, that would be “Shibui”, nor calm, that would be “Ochitsuita”. There is a whole vocabulary in Japanese to describe art and beauty, just as there is in English. Perhaps we would be wise to use the one we understand the best.

Trees are generally beautiful, but a leaf is beautiful in a very specific way. Having a thousand leaves does not make a tree a thousand times more beautiful than a single leaf.

　　　
　

Really Good Friday

For a number of years when I first came to Japan I would receive a letter from Mum some time in April saying "I thought you would have at least called at Easter." I would then phone to say "When was Easter?" It isn't on any of the calendars here, and as the dates change every year I completely missed it for the greater part of a decade. (The same is true for pancake Tuesday...only more so!)






Since the children came on the scene I have been more diligent in searching out the dates each year, and trying to give the kids their share of Australian culture (which does in fact extend beyond yoghurt).
This year is the first time since the children started school that the Japanese spring holidays have coincided with Easter. It has been a conflict trying to get the "Good Friday" holiday idea through to non Christians, and this year, at last, the kids are at home without any negotiations!


Yesterday Sora and I, with the occasional itinerant help of Sean, Mika, Canaan and the significant absence of Rohan (who was enthralled in a book about another famous Potter), baked five dozen Hot Cross Buns, which should last till Sunday, even in our house!

For lunch we enjoyed Norwegian Smoked Salmon, (Thanks Kei!), Mexican Avocados and French Camembert with salad and crackers, with a cheeky Australian chardonnay. A meal to leave a Carbon footprint in the sands of time, but ....it is Easter after all!


This evening we enjoyed exotic Fish and Chips, with beer batter of course, and extra tasting to make sure that the beer was OK. We're still not sure, so the tasting continues....


















Hot Cross Buns (This years recipe!)


280ml of tepid Water
1.5 teaspoons of Dry Yeast
5 dessert spoons of Sugar
1.5 teaspoons of Salt
3 dessertspoons of Olive Oil
200 grams of Plain Flour
200 grams of Gluten Flour
20 grams of Walnuts
100 grams of Raisins
1 teaspoon of mixed spice


Mix all ingredients in a bowl in the order listed. Mix thoroughly and then knead for seven minutes (It helps if you are a potter!)

Cover with a damp cloth and raise in a warm place for 30 minutes, or half an hour, which ever comes first, until it is about twice in volume.

Measure the dough into twelve equal balls and arrange on a greased baking tray. Cover with a damp cloth again and raise for a further half to three quarters of an hour until doubled in size.

Brush beaten egg over the buns then drizzle a creamy mixture of plain flour and milk in a cross over the buns. Bake in a preheated oven at 190 degrees Celsius for 25 minutes.

Toast or reheat before serving.

Happy Easter to you all, more news when the bunny arrives!
　
　
　　

Legal standards for functional ceramics in Japan

You may remember by blog entry "Safety First" , concerning the food safety standards for functional pottery in Japan. I have been asked by some of you for more information about this, so I have read the notification in the original Japanese and the following is my brief interpretation of it in so far as it applies to functional ceramics. The law applies to Glass, Ceramics, Enamel and other food vessels and packaging, so I won't deal with the full scope of the law. I am, after all, Euan the Potter.

According to notification #416 of the Japanese Ministry of Health, Welfare and Labour, as of the 1st of August 2009, it is required for all manufacturers and importers of ceramics for food to conform to the standards set by the International Standards Organisation for levels of heavy metals, specifically Lead and Cadmium.

These safety levels are based on the amount of Lead and Cadmium which can leech into a liquid from the vessel under set test conditions. These levels and conditions are set out in the second table on THIS LINK.

The levels differ slightly for vessels which are used to heat food and those which are not. However, Sake bottles (tokuri), Chawan Mushi Chawan (vessels for savoury steamed custard) and other vessels which can be used to heat or reheat food by any method not exceeding 100 degrees centigrade, where heating food is not the main function of the vessel, will be treated the same as vessels which are not for heating food.

The notification does not state the method by which these standards will be enforced, but department stores in particular are asking for certification of safety in Japanese before vessels can be sold. This is probably in line with the Public Liability Laws which were introduced a few years ago making the manufacturer and retailer responsible for injury to customers due to faulty or dangerous products. I believe that it is required by customs for imported ware, and as I was required to provide this for Mitsukoshi, and my pots are made in Japan, it seems to be required for domestic sales as well. I have only been asked by department stores, however, so I am unsure of the extent to which certification is required.

It only applies to vessels for food. In particular it is important with low fired lead glazes and on glaze enamels, but it applies to all food vessels. Within Japan testing can be done in a variety of places, but I recommend the Tajimi Ceramic Institute. Their home page outlines their testing methods and costs. One representative sample of work should be sent for testing, and they return it. I do not know whether they accept work for testing from overseas.

So, there you have it. If you are making vessels for food, Japanese law requires that they be food safe according to ISO standards. That sounds fair to me.

Black is Black

My friend and fellow deshi of Shimaoka sensei asked me an interesting question the other day.



"How do you keep your black glaze black in a Soda Firing?"



There are indeed lots of ways of getting a black glaze, but you have to decide what kind of black you want. Many black glazes use an overcharge of several colouring oxides to give a dense black. In my case, I am looking for the warm translucency one finds in lacquer ware. Lacquer is in fact brown, but layer upon layer make it so dense it appears black.





In order to achieve a similar brown based black I turned to the Tenmoku style iron glaze. The base glaze is clear, using only four ingredients; Feldspar, Silica, Whiting, Kaolin. To this I add FeO, or Black Iron Oxide.



Using Black Iron Oxide gives you a head start, as the Iron is already reduced. Using Red Iron Oxide, Fe2O3, will require more work to get rid of the unnecessary oxygen.



There are a plethora of glaze recipes available which are excellent Tenmoku in a gas kiln.


Within any plant there are minerals which have been drawn from the ground, and when burnt these minerals either become gaseous and volatise off into the atmosphere or remain as a solid residue, ash. When firing a wood kiln the gaseous minerals, like sodium, will flow through the kiln with the flame and exhaust gases, combining where it contacts with free silica in the clay or glaze surface to form a soda glass glaze. Ash is blown into the kiln with the flame as a powder, settling on the pottery and glaze, adding a coating of a variety of minerals depending on the plant. At a high enough temperature, usually about 1300 centigrade, these minerals, silica and fluxes, will melt and form a glass coating all on their own. The colour and surface will be affected also by what minerals are contained in the vessel surface and mix into the glaze matrix. At the end of my wood firing I also add some Soda Ash , NaCO3, which becomes a gaseous flux inside the kiln in the same way as the natural vapours from the wood.


So, in a wood and soda firing the glaze gets watered down. The ash adds an extra wash of relatively clear glaze and the gaseous flux Sodium makes the glaze melt even more. You end up with a variety of oatmeal and honey glazes. You can see how the "hidasuki" markings from the "Igusa" straw have left golden veins in the black glaze on this plate. Too much straw and it all turns to golden toffee. That can be nice, but it's not black, and it might not be what you want.



So, you need to make the glaze harder, so that it is a bit short of flux and a bit resistant to soda, raising its melting point. By reducing the Feldspar, for example, it raises the melting point, but also raises the ratio of Iron in the glaze. Iron is resistant to soda. Effectively you adjust the glaze recipe to make allowance for the extra flux which is floating around as a gas in the kiln atmosphere.


Glaze application is also important, as no matter how good your glaze is, if it is too thin the ash and soda are going to win. I apply my glaze at a viscosity of 60 by the hydrometer. Tenmoku is very sensitive to variations in texture underneath, so also be aware that the finished glaze surface and colour are only as good as the finished surface of the vessel.

It has taken me years to get my clay body, glaze recipe, glaze application and firing right, and all of those variables affect the finished result. The same glaze will be different in a different firing or on different clay, so it is necessary to experiment with your own materials and firing. In the end it becomes another inimitable expression of your own aesthetic. Hopefully these principles will help you along the way.

The Real World

Home. After a week in Tokyo I am home. My return was delayed by a late fall of snow on Tuesday night. My friends asked me to stay an extra night rather than driving through a worsening blizzard on dark, icy roads, and I thank them for their kindness and hospitality. The snow had turned to rain by yesterday, and the grey sludge that had made Tokyo's roads so dangerous the night before had washed away without a trace. The congested traffic thinned gradually as I headed out of the city, north into the country. The houses became sparser, replaced by fallow fields not yet sown for spring and an ever increasing number of trees. There was still snow on the ground when I got home, though a drizzle of rain was making it thin. Mika came out to greet me as I pulled into the driveway. The kitchen was warm from the wood stove and by the time the kids came home from school it was snowing lightly again. Home.

This morning the sun rose through the snow covered trees in front of the house. As I went out onto the front veranda to feed the cats, I startled a family of pheasants that had been scratching in our compost heap and they scattered noisily into the bamboo. When I returned to the kitchen the children were busily preparing for school while Mika readied breakfast. We all sat down and enjoyed our morning meal together before they hurried off to join their friends. When Mika returned from taking Sean to preschool we had a cup of drip filter coffee and chatted while I signed wooden boxes. We made a delivery of beer cups and tea bowls to a gallery in Utsunomiya during the day and by the time we returned home it was quite warm out side. We sat on the bench in front of the house and enjoyed the sun for a while.

The exhibition went very well this year, better for me than last year, and I thank my friends and clients for making it so successful. I am, however, glad to be home, away from the constant buzz of the city, the crowded subways, the grey concrete and black tarmac. I am happy to sit in the sun and listen to the wind in the trees, rather than stand in the windowless, artificial light of the department store and the drone of piped music. To know that what I see is what there is, not just an elegant facade. On breaks from the department store I would walk to Ebiya across the bridge and find calm in that little oasis. In the evenings my friends made me welcome in their home. It helped me through the exhibition. But the city and all its artifice distresses me, and I am glad to be here, in the real world. Home.

Takashimaya Exhibition in Tokyo

Today sees the start of an exhibition at Takashimaya department store in Nihombashi, Tokyo.
Myself, Penny Simpson and Peter Seabridge are holding our second exhibition in the 7th floor Kougei Gallery, and we will be there every day till Tuesday the 9th. For several years we exhibited together at the Tokyo Dome Tableware Festival, but from last year Takashimaya has hosted our show.

The timing of the exhibition also coincides with the restaurant G'Drop winter menu which features my vessels. So, if you're in Tokyo over the next week, drop by and see us!