Yasuhisa Kohyama
Join us at SOFA New York (May 29, 2008) to see works from this artist.
Kohyama (Japanese name: 神山 易久) draws inspiration from ancient Japanese wares, like those of the Jomon Period (ca. 8,000 B.C.-300 B.C.). He does so in a vital and energetic way, creating original sculptured forms that pay homage to his ceramic roots without being carbon copies of them.
Take, for instance, his triangular works with sharp wavy edges. These have no decoration, only the warmth of their own muted orange clay. This allows the form of each to “speak,” as if in a bold whisper. These works lack the ornate decoration of their distant Jomon cousins, fired 10,000 years ago, yet share something of the same verve and temperament. This also goes for Kohyama’s gray, vertical pieces that hark back to the fifth-12th century sueki wares — the first Japanese pots fired in an anagama (a single-chambered tunnel kiln). Introduced via Korea, the anagama reshaped the Japanese ceramic scene.
Kohyama revolutionized Shigaraki in his own way when he became the first potter since medieval times to build an anagama. That was in 1968 and Kohyama was against the trend of the times: Japan was looking forward even as the potter was casting back centuries. The Tokyo exhibition of works from the first firing of the anagama caused quite a stir, with famous potters such as Shoji Hamada coming to see what the buzz was all about. Collectors and museums snapped up pieces; Kohyama’s work is in the permanent collections of New York’s Metropolitan and Brooklyn museums, as well as many other institutions.
And form is the aspect of Kohyama’s work that most impresses the viewer. Some pieces are curled up slabs with an “inner sanctum.” Others are broad expanses with wavy sides where their creator sliced them like a wedge of cheese. In these pieces we can see the radiance of Shigaraki clay: one side pitted with quartz stones, the other face matte, sharkskin-textured. A few do balancing acts, looking as if they might topple over at any time; others resemble clay wings, in which we can “feel” the wind.
His sake flasks are in a kamo-dokkuri (duck form), although they actually look more like turtles. They also make the most fabulous “tok-tok-tok” sound when sake is poured from them, and as any sake vessel connoisseur knows, such an accent is of utmost importance.
