At first glance a traditional Japanese tea bowl might appear nondescript. The pervading style was inspired by the rice bowls Korean peasants used more than 300 years ago. In a Zen Buddhist sort of way, though, the tea bowls are not really about their exterior aesthetic, but more inherently focused on what a tea drinker might see in them.
Every imperfection, each subtle handmade curve, the chips and dings, all of it indicates the human impression on the materials and the connection that the tea bowl has made between the people of that particular moment and all of those who have used it before (and will use it afterward). “The Essence of Tea Bowls” will be celebrated in an exhibition through Nov. 25 in the Louis Pohl Gallery. In addition to showing the work of local potters, it will serve as a way to investigate the enduring nature of the form.
“What makes them special is the eye of the beholder,” said gallery owner Sandra Pohl. “They represent tea, and the drinking of tea, as a sacred time. Even if you drink tea for two minutes, (that moment) is just about drinking tea and drinking that tea in the now.”
When in such a trancelike moment, Pohl said, people often begin to ponder the deeper meanings of life and how those might relate to the artifacts in front of them.
Ceramic artist Yukio Ozaki called that moment “a way of life,” developed over centuries of practice, and a foundation of the “wabi-sabi” philosophy. While that term has many definitions and applications, Ozaki considers its part in the tea ceremony as a reflection on aging and fading power.
“There’s a certain sadness to it,” he said. “When the grandeur of life falls into simplicity, when the utensils, over time, start to have rustic qualities, as time goes on, things start to oxidize, scar and break.”
When experimenting with tea bowls, Ozaki at first focused on achieving perfection, trying to make them perfectly round or perfectly square, but then, he said, “I realized my misunderstanding. Perfection is far beyond physical perfection.”
Another local potter involved in the show, Ken Kang, said he tries to transmit his feelings of the moment into the tea bowl as he makes it. “I’m trying to please myself first,” he said. “The color, the texture, the shape, the feeling of the bowl, the picking up of the bowl, those are all a part of it. But something tells me if I like it or not in the end. It’s a personal thing. I wish I could get the words for it.”
Pohl said the little imperfections of each tea bowl are what make them so distinct and beautiful. When she places the bowls in her gallery, she mixes different artists together, but because of the general restrictions of the form and style, they are difficult to tell apart without looking at the labels. Yet she also has noticed that people tend to gravitate to the same artist, regardless of who else is in the collection.
“I think that’s their spirit, their mana in the bowl,” she said. “This is a mystery to me, what makes one artist more likable to a person than another. I really don’t understand it.”
Ozaki, though, said he does not think the artist actually imbues anything into the bowls. Instead, he thinks the tea drinkers make the vessels what they are, as their lives gradually permeate the materials from which they drink.
He added, “Wabi-sabi only comes from the lives of the people who use (the bowls and utensils). It’s not anything to be made by the artist. Only time and difficulties of life make those things.”
‘The Essence of Tea Bowls’
>> When: Through Nov. 25; 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesdays to Fridays and 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturdays
>> Where: Louis Pohl Gallery, 1142 Bethel St.
>> Info: 521-1812 or louispohlgallery.com
