Japan: Its History, Arts, and Literature/Volume 8/Chapter 6
Chapter VI
WARES OF OWARI, OR BISHIU, AND MINO
POTTERY
The province of Owari, or Bishiu, now included in Aichi Prefecture, is full of interest for the student, whether for the sake of its association with the name of Katō Shirozaemon (commonly called Tōshiro), or because its manufactures were sufficiently pre-eminent to become a synonym—Seto-mono—for all keramic productions in Japan. It has already been related how Shirozaemon visited China in 1223, and what improved processes he there acquired. The pieces he is said to have previously produced did not possess one redeeming feature, nor need they be cited except as illustrations of the very small progress Japan had made in keramics up to that time. They were thick, clumsily shaped, and unglazed at the orifice, so that even the Japanese Cha-jin, who treasures them to-day with enthusiasm, is at a loss to point out any merit justifying his affection. Among these specimens of "Koseto" (old Seto), as they are called—though Katō Shirozaemon never worked at Seto until after his return from China—a curious example of the fictitious value attached by subsequent generations to the great master's handiwork is seen in the variety "Hori-dashi-te," or "dug-out ware." It consists of pieces which, having been rejected from time to time on account of technical defects until their inconvenient accumulation suggested the expedient of burying them in the ground, were dug out two or three centuries later and placed among the treasures of the tea-clubs, the faults that originally rendered them worthless several hundred years being subsequently condoned for the sake of their associations. Before his visit to China, Tōshiro's wares, or, to speak more correctly, the wares of his time, were stoved in an inverted position, so that the orifices were unglazed. For this reason they were subsequently called Kuchi-hagi-de, or bared (hagi) orifice (kuchi) variety (te). Another distinguishing appellation was Atsu-de, or thick variety,—a term that explains itself. It is unnecessary to describe these productions at length. They were nothing more than coarse pottery, made of iron-red clay, covered with clumsily applied glaze, sometimes black, sometimes brown, sometimes a reddish grey, and occasionally having a tinge of yellow.
The idea that pottery was manufactured in Owari by Katō Shirozaemon before his visit to China, to supposed specimens of which pottery the term Koseto (old Seto) is now erroneously applied, is one of those curious myths to which dilettanti cling in the face of the clearest evidence to the contrary. Unfortunately, every Japanese tradition about the keramic industry is prefaced by legends that carry the student back to the prehistoric days of this ancient Empire. Conservative Japanese confidently regard Jimmu Tennō, who is supposed to have reigned more than twenty-five hundred years ago, as the first purely human sovereign of their country, and since history, so called, says that this ruler ordered one Shii-netsu-hiko to manufacture earthen jars for sacrificial purposes, the fact is indisputably established, for those having sufficient faith, that the keramic industry existed in Japan at the end of the age of the god-kings. Turning to a venerable record (the Kyuji Honki,) there is found a confident statement that pottery was first manufactured by one Osugi, in the province of Kawachi, whence the industry spread to Izumo, Owari, and elsewhere; and that the earliest Superintendent of Keramics was Izumo no Otodo, whose title in connection with this office was Haji-no-mura-ji, and whose descent could be traced to one of the divine rulers. These circumstances, and others scarcely less apocryphal, are always quoted in the context of Owari pottery, after which comes information that an official of high rank (Saben-kan), by name Chōya Gunsai, visited Owari during the reign of the Emperor Horikawa (1087–1109), and brought back with him to Kyōtō a quantity of earthenware vessels. Specimens said to be as old as that event have been exhumed in the province. They are hard, well-fired pottery, showing marks of the wheel, and having no glaze except where a natural coating of vitreous matter has been produced in the furnace. Such ware could not have attracted much attention, and it is not surprising to learn incidentally that Owari's reputation was quite unestablished when Katō Shirozaemon returned from China.
Katō, whose real name was Fujiwara Masakage, is said to have come in his youth to Kyōtō from his native place (Michikage-mura, in Yamato). There he became a retainer of Kuga Michichika—one of the three principal Ministers of State—and was raised to the fifth order of official rank. Tea-drinking was then becoming a fashionable pastime among the nobles in the capital. The choice utensils used by its devotees—the Ting-yao, Chun-yao, Ju-yao, etc., of the Sung dynasty—were all Chinese, and their immense superiority to everything produced in Japan was palpable. Masakage conceived the ambition of raising the keramic art of his country to a higher level. He resigned his official position and built a kiln at Fukakusa, a village about five miles from Kyōtō. But his wares proving little if at all superior to those of his contemporaries, he determined to visit China in the capacity of a student. By the aid of Doyen (or Dōgen), a Buddhist priest (second son of Masakage's lord, Kuga Michichika), he was enabled to accomplish his purpose. Tradition says that he travelled from one to another of the great Chinese keramic centres, and, during five years' study, acquired a full knowledge of the processes of the Middle Kingdom. If so, the only conclusion is that his ability to utilise this knowledge in Japan was limited by lack of materials. From China he brought back pottery earth which he called Sohoaki (mother's bosom), doubtless in the sense that the development of his art depended upon this material, though a local tradition says that the term was applied to clay found in Owari by the potter's mother and carried home in the bosom of her robe. His first essay after his return was made at his former kiln in Fukakusa. Three tea-jars potted there with Chinese clay were entirely successful. One of them was presented to the Regent Tokiyori; the other two to the priest Dōyen, who bequeathed them to the temple Eiheiji, where they are still preserved. But Japanese material proved as refractory as ever. Katō Shirozaemon—as Masakage now called himself—wandered from place to place in search of suitable clay. At Sakai, in the province of Izumi; at various places in the Gokinai (five central provinces); in Omi, where the much employed Shigaraki earth was afterwards found; and at Kuwana, in Ise, he repeated his experiments. The idea of trying Owari had not occurred to him. So far from having practised the keramic art there before his journey to China, it was only through information accidentally obtained in Ise that he determined to visit the province. Even then his first essay, made at Hantsuki-mura, in the Chita district of Owari, was a failure. Ultimately he came to Seto, and there at last found what he wanted. It is said, indeed, that he pronounced the Seto earth superior to the Chinese Sobokai. The former was certainly the harder, but in closeness of grain the advantage lay with the latter. It may be mentioned here that among tea-jars used in Japan from old times, not a few of Chinese manufacture are to be found. They can generally be recognised at once by the nature of their pâte, which not only is so fine that its grain is scarcely perceptible, but also has a glistening appearance that suggests comparison with moist mud.
The pottery made by Katō Shirozaemon—or Tōshiro, as he soon came to be called—was far superior to any Japanese ware that had preceded it. He produced dainty little tea-jars of close, fine pâte, excellently manipulated. The thick, clumsy character of former specimens disappeared entirely. His pieces were no longer stoved in an inverted position, so that their edges, instead of being bare and fringed with irregular patches of glaze, were smooth and fairly finished. His glazes were lustrous and free from discontinuities and irregularities. Their colours were black, amber brown, chocolate, and yellowish grey. They were not monochromatic, but showed differences of tint, and sometimes marked varieties of colour, as when chocolate brown passed into amber, or black was relieved by streaks and clouds of grey and dead-leaf red.
Very soon this Tōshiro-yaki became the rage. The feudal barons, who had adopted the fashion set by Yoritomo of rewarding the minor services of their vassals with presents of powdered tea, then a rare luxury, chose Tōshiro's jars to contain these gifts, so that the reputation of the Seto potter was quickly established. Connoisseurs decided, and the decision has never been revoked, that his best pieces were those with a purplish pâte; his second-best those with a light-red pâte; his third-best those with a grey pâte, and that the pâte of the least valued was dark red. Another point of merit, scarcely appreciable to foreign eyes, is the ito-giri, or trace of the thread used to cut off the superfluous clay at the bottom of the piece before removing the latter from the wheel. The spiral thus formed is supposed to afford some subtle indication of the potter's skill.
Tōshiro's factory was known as Heishi-gama, apparently because the experimental pieces first potted there were heishi (a species of wine-jar). Extravagantly refined but confused distinctions are set up by dilettanti with regard to his various productions. It has been shown above that the term Ko-Seto is erroneously applied to Seto ware supposed to have been potted by him before he visited China. Other connoisseurs use the same term to designate ware manufactured by him with Japanese clay after his return from China. Then, again, some experts give the name "Karamono" or "Kambutsu" (Chinese thing) to pieces in which they profess to recognise Tōshiro's work and Chinese materials; while others call this variety "Tōbutsu," a term now employed in the sense of "imported article." These subtleties belong entirely to the region of Cha-no-Yu romance.
Tōshiro changed his name in after life to Shunkei, and the pieces he then manufactured are called "Shunkei-yaki." They are accounted his chefs-d'œuvre.
It would be difficult to convey to the reader an adequate impression of the esteem in which choice specimens of Tōshiro-yaki are held in Japan. They are swathed in coverings of the costliest brocade and kept in boxes of superb lacquer. There is scarcely any limit to the prices paid for them, and the names of their fortunate owners are spoken of with respect by Chajin of a proper spirit. Kaempfer tells a wonderful tale about an island called Mauri-ga-shima, in the vicinity of Formosa, where in ancient times there was found a porcelain clay of fine quality. Enraged by the wickedness of the inhabitants, the gods caused the island to sink beneath the sea, and with it all its keramic treasures disappeared. But the beauty of its porcelain was so well remembered that in after years men were wont to search the depths of the ocean for a vase. When they found one, they would remove with infinite care the shells that encrusted it, and sell it for a fabulous sum in Japan, where this ware of Mauri-ga-shima was so much esteemed that none but the Emperor might possess it. Of course this is all a foolish fable. Kaempfer credited it, and Jacquemart gravely made it the basis of a general theory with regard to the keramic productions of the Far East. The probable truth is that the story was invented by some Japanese Swift to satirise the irrational value which the virtuosi of his country attached to rusty old specimens of Korean faience, homely pieces of Imbe pottery, and tiny tea-jars of Shunkei-yaki.
To examine, with anything like becoming accuracy, the subject of tea-jars, tea-cups, and other Cha-no-Yu utensils, of which the wares of Seto may be considered typical, would require a separate treatise. Several treatises have indeed been devoted to the matter by Japanese dilettanti. In every case the authors are faithful to the spirit of their science. They waste no time upon historical details which, however welcome they might be to outsiders, are supposed to be familiar to every duly educated devotee. The information they give is limited to an outline drawing of each cha-tsuho (tea-jar), cha-wan (tea-cup,) koro (censer), mizu-sashi (ewer) and so forth, thought worthy to be included among the meibutsu (celebrities) of the craft; the dimensions of every part of these little vessels; a description of the brocade bags in which they repose; facsimiles of the certificates accompanying them or the inscriptions on their boxes,—certificates and inscriptions, which, as the autographs of renowned virtuosi, add immensely to the intrinsic value of a specimen; the names, sometimes of past, always of present, fortunate possessors of these gems, and finally the names of the chefs-d'œuvre themselves,—names that constitute a curious record of Japanese ingenuity, ideality, and refinement. The Western amateur is bewildered by this extraordinarily elaborate framework of unessential information. He fails to connect it with the merits of the picture itself, being, in fact, incapable of appreciating those merits. Were there question of decorative beauties, of technical excellences, or of wonderful effects of colour, such as those shown by many Chinese masterpieces, there would be something to lay hold of. But the cha-tsubo and cha-wan of Seto, and their Chinese or Korean companions, depend, so far as Western appreciation is concerned, entirely on the peculiar character of their glaze and the accuracy of their finish. The glaze, indeed, is often very beautiful,—rich, lustrous and showing a curious blending or contrast of fanciful and æsthetic tints. The workmanship, too, is sometimes highly skilled. But it by no means follows that specimens possessing these charms are most treasured by the orthodox Chajin. His ideal is frequently a rustic, homely object, incomprehensible, if not actually shocking, to the uninitiated. His inherited perception detects features of refinement (gami), and of elegance (johin) that have no significance for outsiders, and his imagination is moved by associations that cluster round an ideograph. To ridicule such fancies would be presumptuous. They are the finer breath of a civilisation the most ancient, and in many respects the most picturesque, the world has known. Westerners do not fully comprehend them: that is all. If, then, but brief space is here devoted to the old pottery of Seto, of Korea, and of other factories revered by the disciples of the Cha-no-Yu cult, it is not because the right is denied to Japanese virtuosi to credit such wares with charms invisible to duller eyes. Above all, the sincerity of their æstheticism is beyond question. It is recorded in their annals that a Korean, by name Yugeki, on the eve of starting for Japan, received from his Sovereign a cup of Komagai faience to serve as a pen-washer should occasion arise to display his renowned calligraphy; how he presented this bit of white, unadorned, craquelé faience to Takeda, a Japanese doctor who had saved his life; how Takeda ignobly parted with it in payment of a debt, and how in the year 1639 it came into the possession of a Japanese feudal chief for a sum equivalent to £240. It is also recorded that the Abbot Nensei, in exchange for a little tea-jar of Chinese faience, known as "First Flower" (hatsu-hana), obtained (1584 A. D.) a vermilion rescript excusing himself and his descendants from the payment of all taxes for ever. And it is further a fact that amateurs of the present time disburse hundreds of dollars for specimens of Soto-yaki that scarcely seem worth the boxes containing them. No sentiment, wholly spurious, could have established these subtle standards and maintained them through centuries. Even the shock of Western civilisation, unromantic, leisureless, and radical, has failed to lower them appreciably. If they are here left undiscussed, it is not because they excite contempt, but because they baffle comprehension.
Katō Shirozaemon's successor was his son, to whom he gave his own industrial name, Tōshiro. Hence a new source of confusion was introduced. For amateurs who apply the term Ko-Seto to the productions of Shirozaemon himself, have chosen to call his son's pieces Tōshiro-yaki, whereas by other connoisseurs the latter name is understood to refer to the works of the earlier potter. A more correct nomenclature distinguishes the pieces of the first generation as Tōshiro-yaki, and those of the second as Manaka Kobutsu (true middle-period antiquities). The ware is not inferior to that produced by the first Tōshiro, but Chinese clay being no longer used, the purplish pâte of the Ko-seto is not found in the Tōshiro-yaki. Otherwise the two faiences are scarcely distinguishable. To the second Tōshiro, however, is attributed the manufacture of an impure yellow and slightly crackled glaze which is much prized by Japanese amateurs under the name of Ki-Seto, or yellow Seto ware. Tōshiro did not invent this glaze; his father had used it constantly, but not conspicuously. The son made it his principal glaze, and succeeded in producing a better shade of yellow. It has to be observed, however, that the Ki-Seto-yaki of this early period differs entirely from a later faience of the same name. The glaze of the former was lustrous, thick, and only slightly translucid; that of the latter, thin, transparent, and covered with a network of fine but clearly marked crackle. The exact date of the second Tōshiro's death is not recorded, but it probably took place about 1290.
In the hands of Tōshiro the third, grandson of Shirozaemon, the Seto ware attained a high degree of excellence. His pieces are known as Chu Kobutsu (medium antiquities) or Kinka-zan, so called from the name of his factory (Kinkazan-yama): the latter term is, however, referred by some authorities to the golden (kin) lustre of his ware. Soft yellow glazes, others of rich golden brown, others black and chocolate or of flambé description, were among his specialties, and he developed such a mastery of all the technical processes of his art that beyond doubt he would have bequeathed to subsequent generations some specimens of rare merit had not his market been limited by the austere tastes of the tea-clubs. His flambé glazes received the name of Namako-de, in allusion to a resemblance which their surface bore to the sheen of a cuttlefish (namako) supposed to live in a lake at the foot of Mount Kinka in Oshū. Tōshiro the third died about the year 1330.
Tōshiro the third was succeeded by his son Tōzaburo, who flourished during the middle of the fourteenth century. The works of this the last of the four great Seto masters, are called Hafu-gama, because the lower edge of the glaze, which is unusually thick, often assumes a contour like the curve of the Hafu, an opening of pointed-arch shape above the entrance in Japanese houses. Inferior to the productions of his predecessor, Tōzaburo's ware is nevertheless immensely esteemed. In truth, if a list were compiled setting forth all the special names that have been given to particularly prized specimens of old Seto pottery, and all the couplets that have been composed in praise of pet pieces, the result would be a tolerably bulky volume. It is somewhat strange that the history of men whose productions were so highly prized should not have been more carefully recorded. Scarcely anything is known about the lives of the four renowned Seto experts, and of the wares of their successors people speak collectively, calling them all Kodai-Shunkei (Shunkei of later generations), or at best distinguishing among them Sakai-Shunkei and Yoshino-Shunkei; concerning which terms there is nothing to be said except that Sakai-Shunkei refers to faience potted on the borders (Sakaime) of Owari and Mino. Tōzaburo died about the year 1380.
It is an article of faith with Japanese connoisseurs that after the death of the fourth Tōshiro the pottery manufacture of Seto entered a steadily declining phase, and was only rescued from worthlessness by the occasionally exercised influence of such amateurs as Shino, Oribe, Rikiu, and Kobori Masakazu. Here, again, the Cha-no-Yu standard is applied. From a Western point of view the history of the factories reads differently. During the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries the disturbed state of the Empire undoubtedly affected the Owari potters and greatly checked the development of their industry. But from 1600 to 1800 there can be no question that they worked prosperously and skilfully. The remains of twenty-nine kilns can now be traced in the neighbourhood of Seto, and specimens belonging to that era show considerable technical ability. The preparation of the pâte underwent improvement. From somewhat coarse pottery it became hard, close stone-ware. As for the glazes, they offer charming variety. Although limited to a few colours, their richness, lustre, and depth, and the manner of their application are deserving of praise. The commonest body-glaze is feuille-morte, warm yet delicate. Frequently this is splashed or shot with deep claret, honey yellow, or golden brown. There is, also, very dark mahogany, almost black, with flecks of grey, clouds of russet, or bands of amber; iron red, dusted with metallic specks; claret brown passing into pinkish buff with ruddy effects of much beauty, and other combinations evincing taste and skill. Unfortunately these glazes are found only on insignificant pieces—tea-jars, cups, ewers, and so forth—that possess no decorative claims. A faience of quite a different class is craquelé Seto-yaki. The glaze of this is peculiarly vitreous, and so translucid that the brown colour of the pâte shows through it. The crackle is regular and well marked, and some very pleasing specimens have been produced in which the brownish or grey body glaze is relieved by streaks and splashes of colour. These, however, do not date farther back than the end of the sixteenth or beginning of the seventeenth century. Among them may also be placed the yellow Seto faience (Ki-Seto) mentioned above as distinct from the Ki-Seto of the second Tōshiro. The origin of this later-period yellow faience is often attributed to one Hakuan, who is supposed to have flourished about 1470. But in truth Hakuan is a person of whom very little is known. Some authorities assert that he was a physician of the thirteenth century; that he never manufactured any faience himself, and that his name is associated with Seto ware by the accident that, having attended the first Tōshiro in an illness, the latter presented him with six tea-bowls. However this may be, the point to be noted is that craquelé Ki-Seto faience does not appear to have been produced before the end of the sixteenth century. It can hardly be termed a yellow ware, as in the majority of specimens one is perplexed to determine whether the impure yellow of the transparent glaze itself, or the brownish colour of the pâte beneath it, predominates. Occasionally ornamentation is added, generally taking the form of floral scrolls in relief. The collector finds, also, figures of mythical personages and animals in crackled Ki-Seto-yaki.
Until the present century it was not the habit of the Seto potters to mark their pieces. Neither did any of them, after the fourth Tōshiro, attain sufficient distinction to be remembered. It is known only that between 1600 and 1800 the following families, all of which are now represented, were among the principal artists:—
- The Katō Shōzaburo family, with its branch, the Katō Sadatarō family.
- The Katō Enroku family, with its branches, namely, the Katō Monemon family, and the Katō Kanshirō family.
- The Katō Jyōkichi family.
- The Kawamoto Hansuke family (founded 1689).
- The Kawamoto Sukegorō family.
- The Katō Shyūbei family.
- The Katō Gosuke family, descended directly from Katō Shirozaemon.
Wares produced in Owari after the time of the fourth Tōshiro are included in the term Nochi-gama (subsequent kiln). Certain special varieties of these call for brief notice.
ORIBE-YAKI
To the initiative of the celebrated Chajin Furuta Oribe is attributed the establishment (1573–1592) of a factory at Narumi, where were produced, under his personal direction, sixty-six tea-jars of special excellence, one for each province in Japan. To these alone originally belonged the name Oribe-yaki, but the term subsequently received a wider signification, being applied to all pottery manufactured at the Narumi factory. The characteristics of this ware are sugary white, buff, sage green, and salmon pink glazes, used alone or in combination. The varying thickness of the green glaze often produces the effect of blue mottling or streaking. Light brown glaze is also found. There is coarse crackle. Decoration of an archaic character is frequently added, the pigment used being invariably dark brown (shibu). A favourite design is plum petals among latticed bars, that being the badge of the Oribe family. This Oribe-yaki, though never delicate or elaborate, is often striking and artistic. The manufacture is still carried on, but rough, insignificant pieces alone are produced.
SHINO-YAKI
The original Shino-yaki, another variety of the Nochi-gama, is interesting as an example of the exceeding rusticity affected by some devotees of the Cha-no-Yu cult. It is strikingly rude, clumsy faience, or stone-ware. The pâte is coarse; the glaze thick, white, crackled, and glistening; and the decoration—when there is any—consists of the most archaic designs; as banded hedge patterns, rudimentary grasses and blossoms, suggestions of birds, and so forth, dashed on with dark brown pigment (shibu). The style was originated (1480) by Shino Ienobu, a celebrated master of Tea Ceremonials and vassal of the great dilettante, the Regent Yoshimasa. Japanese connoisseurs do not hesitate to pay two or three hundred dollars for an old specimen of this remarkably homely ware. Shino is chiefly remembered in connection with a system of incense burning which he elaborated,—a delicate and refined process, very different from the homely faience that bears his name. Another variety of the ware attributed to Shino's inspiration is known as Mugi-wara-de, or barley-straw pattern, the decoration consisting of lines that are intended to imitate straw.
GEMPIN-YAKI
When the Ming dynasty of China had been overthrown by the Tsung Tartars, four Chinese nobles came (1659) to Japan to pray for aid against the northern invaders. The Japanese were at first disposed to entertain this request, but, reflecting that they should be supporting rulers who fifty years before had sent an army to oppose Hideyoshi's generals in Korea, they ultimately decided to let the Ming fight their own battles. The fugitive nobles were, however, treated with all courtesy. Confided to the hospitable care of Japanese barons, three of them seem to have passed the remainder of their lives in uneventful seclusion, while the fourth, Gempin, residing at Nagoya, in Owari, devoted his leisure to painting and pottery-making. As an artist he was not without ability, but his keramic productions show either that he possessed little technical skill, or that he adapted himself to the severest canons of the tea-clubs. Amongst the recognised chefs-d'œuvre (meibutsu) of Japan there is figured a small incense-burner, the work of Gempin. It is of unglazed pottery. Engraved in the pâte is a single petal of the Nelumbo nucifera, and incised on both the inner and outer surfaces are a number of ideographs executed with wonderful delicacy and precision. Gempin's favourite method of decoration, however, was blue under the glaze. The painting was rough, almost rudimentary; the tone of the blue impure, and the glaze greyish white.
MIFUKAI-YAKI
During the Genki era (1570–1571), the province of Owari was the scene of a war that partially dispersed the Seto potters. At that time the representative of the Katō family was Katō Kagemasa. Accompanied by his younger brother, Nihei, this man made his way to Satonoki-mura, in the neighbouring province of Mino, and there set up a kiln. Some forty years later (1610,) when Tokugawa Yoshinao, Prince of Owari, established himself at Nagoya, he instituted enquiries with the object of reviving the keramic industry of the province. Katō Kagemasa's title to be regarded as the direct descendant of the celebrated Tōshiro having been thus verified, he was recalled from Mino and granted a yearly pension as well as a plot of land in the village of Akazu, where he opened a factory. His kiln was called O-kama-ya (honourable kiln), in recognition of the fact that it enjoyed official patronage. The ware produced was of the usual Seto type, but of such good quality that when, in 1630, Tokugawa Mitsutomo, the then Prince of Owari, desired to establish a special factory to manufacture faience for his own use and for purposes of presentation, he entrusted the work to the potters of Akazu. The result was the Mifukai kiln, within the outer enclosure of the Nagoya castle. It was under the superintendence of Katō Tōzaburo, and its productions were called Mifukai-yaki, or sometimes Oniwa-yaki (honourable garden ware) but the latter term is seldom used, being easily confounded with the name of a wholly different faience manufactured in Kishiu (vide Kishiu-yaki). The Mifukai-yaki includes most of the ordinary Seto glazes, and in these varieties presents no special features, except that the pâte is closer and of lighter colour than the usual Seto-yaki. There is, however, one kind to which the name Mifukai-yaki is principally applied by connoisseurs. Its body glaze is the vitreous, semi-translucid, craquelé glaze of Owari; over this run broad bands of brown ochre, splashed with a glaze like avanturine lacquer, and between the bands are streaks of green and violet. The effect is more bizarre than artistic. The ware is no longer produced. The custom of maintaining a private kiln was long observed by the princely family of Owari. In the grounds of their Yedo (Tōkyō) mansion, at Tōyama a small kiln stood until the beginning of the nineteenth century.
SHUNTAI-YAKI
This is a variety of faience produced at Akazu from about the middle of the seventeenth century. It is of the flambé description, the most characteristic variety having vitreous, grey craquelé glaze streaked with blue showing shades of violet and buff.
Considering the productions of the Akazu potters, especially the Mifukai and Shuntai wares, it will be seen that a comparatively new departure was made by the potters of Owari at the beginning of the seventeenth century. Instead of confining themselves to the solid, lustrous glazes of the Tōshiro school, they turned also to vitreous, craquelé glazes of clear, bright colours, disposed in the flambé or splashed style. There is such a marked affinity between these manufactures and those of Karatsu, in Hizen (vide Karatsu-yaki) that the student is led to suspect imitation. In the annals of the neighbouring province Mino, it is related that a descendant of Katō Shirozaemon came from Seto to Kujiri in 1573, and that, some thirty years subsequently, his son and successor, Kagenobu, by a train of circumstances that will be related in connection with the Mino industry, acquired an intimate knowledge of the Karatsu methods. Reference to the story of the Mifukai-yaki (vide supra) shows that at this time Katō Tagemasa and his brother Nihei—afterwards leading experts at Akazu, in Owari—were working at the neighbouring village of Satonoki. Hearing of the novel processes introduced by Kagenobu, these men, as well as other potters of Mino and Owari, made several efforts to learn his methods. They were unsuccessful, until, one New Year's day, during an entertainment at Kagenobu's house, Nihei secretly climbed into the factory and took observations. The story runs that his temerity nearly cost him his life when, a few days later, Kagenobu discovered what had occurred. Thenceforth the art of manufacturing polychrome glazes received considerable development. Its best examples are the Mifukai-yaki and Shuntai faiences.
TOKONAME-YAKI
This ware derives its name from that of the village where it was first produced (in Owari) during the Tensho era (1573–1591). It is pottery of rude character made to imitate an imported ware called Namban-yaki (southern barbarian ware). Where the Namban-yaki was produced there is difficulty in determining. Some attribute it to Cochin China, some to Korea, and some to Luzon. Its qualities would scarcely repay the trouble of identification. It is coarse, unglazed pottery, having the appearance of rusty iron, and devoid of decoration, unless the term can be applied to impressed cord marks. The Namban-yaki is one of the inexplicable fancies of the Japanese Chajin. He distinguishes it by various names according to the nature of the cord marks—as Nawa-sudare (cord curtain), or Toko-nawa (cross cord)—and he pays two or three hundred dollars for a cylindrical vessel of this semi-savage manufacture. It has been imitated by various Japanese potters, whose original productions are incomparably superior. The Tokoname-yaki is among these imitations. It did not, however, attract the fastidious attention of the tea-clubs until the time of Chōzaburo (1818–1839) and Hachibei (1830–1844). These experts succeeded in prostituting their skill sufficiently to manufacture good likenesses of the Namban ware.
TOYŌSUKE RAKU-YAKI
This is a faience produced at the Hōraku factory in Nagoya, the chief town of Owari. It dates from the early part of the nineteenth century, and owes its origin to an expert called Toyōsuke. It is soft, crackled faience of the Raku type, covered on one side with greenish white glaze, embellished by bold sketches of floral subjects, and on the other with a thin coat of lacquer, carefully applied, and bearing delicate designs of considerable beauty. Lacquer thus employed on small pieces of faience becomes an agent of considerable value in keramic decoration, and is especially suited to the soft Raku ware of Toyōsuke.
NOCHI SHUNKEI
There is some confusion about the use of this term. Mr. Ninagawa Noritane, in his work Kanko Zusetsu, applies it to all the faience produced in the time of Kobori Masakazu (1620–1660), not only in Owari, but also in Tambu and Ise, and says that the most valued specimens were manufactured by the dilettanti Chaemon, Koson, Soi, Tahei, Doyen, and Asakura Domi. Other authorities use it only in reference to the faience of the second Tōshiro. The question possesses no importance from an artistic point of view.
OWARI PORCELAIN
The keramists of Owari, although they enjoyed the reputation of being the first potters of Japan, made no attempt to manufacture porcelain until more than a century and a half had elapsed from the date of its successful production in Hizen. The circumstances under which this notable addition was made to the industrial resources of the province are interesting.
In the year 1798, Tsugane Bunzaemon Taneomi, then governor of Atsuta, the port of Nagoya, received instructions from the chief of the province to reclaim a stretch of the foreshore. The work having been accomplished, a proclamation was issued offering free allotments to farmers. One day the governor visited the place on a tour of inspection, and observed among the new agriculturists a number of men who were evidently without experience in such business. On enquiry, it appeared that these men had come from Seto. The once flourishing potteries of the little town had long suffered from want of custom, and their owners were reduced to great straits. The situation was aggravated by an old law of the fief, forbidding more than one member of the potter's family to devote himself to his father's trade. Under these circumstances the offer of free allotments in the reclaimed district had been gladly embraced by many of the artisans. The governor summoned one of the latter to his residence; reminded him that the province had long been noted for its keramic productions, and urged him to return with his companion to Seto. But the ex-potter, whose name was Kichizaemon, explained that a livelihood was no longer obtainable at Seto: not from choice, but from necessity, he had given up his trade to his eldest son, and had come to the new farms accompanied by his second son, Tamikichi. The governor was still unsatisfied. It was ill, he said, adopting a new profession in mature years. Finally, he offered to become himself Kichizaemon's instructor in the art of porcelain making. The Seto artisan gladly availed himself of this proposal. A kiln was built at the governor's residence, and for several months Kichizaemon worked there. Only a small measure of success was achieved. Coarse household utensils of porcelain were the utmost that could be produced, and even among these the proportion of failures was almost prohibitively large. But the governor and his son Tanesada were indefatigable. They supplied the necessary capital and made arrangements for the prosecution of the industry on an extended scale. The potters of Seto now took alarm. Their head-man, Katō Tozaemon, visited the governor of Atsuta, and being admitted to his sick-room, explained that the results of his project would probably prove fatal to the industries of Seto and the neighbouring villages. The governor did not deny that this forecast might be just, but explained the Atsuta factories were only intended to give employment to potters who were prevented by local regulations from pursuing their trade at Seto. Could this difficulty be overcome, Tozaemon's remonstrance would have more weight. The issue of the interview was that representations were made to the Prince of Owari, and the law restricting the number of potters in each family was repealed.
The potters of Atsuta now returned to Seto, and Katō Tōzaemon, Kichizaemon, and his son Tamikichi combined to establish a porcelain factory there. Their example was followed by fourteen keramists. But the quality of the ware underwent no improvement. It became evident that without fuller instruction the industry had no future. In this dilemma the eyes of the potters naturally turned towards Hizen. Tamikichi resolved to proceed thither,—a tedious journey and one of more than doubtful success. It was known that the secrets of the art were jealously guarded, and that an attempt to acquire them might end disastrously. The story furnishes another instance of the part played by the Buddhist priesthood in fostering and promoting Japanese industries. It was a priest that familiarised the people with the chief mechanical processes of pottery manufacture; it was a priest that enabled Katō Shirozaemon to visit China; and it was a priest that now aided Tamikichi's design. The consent of the lord of the fief was, of course, a necessary preliminary to the journey; but great a noble as was the Prince of Owari, he could do little to further Tamikichi's ultimate purpose. In the island of Amakusa, off the coast of Higo, the temple of Tōkōji was under the direction of an Abbot named Tenchu. This prelate was a native of Owari, had served there as an acolyte, and still continued to visit Seto on his preaching tours. Furnished with a letter to the Abbot, Tamikichi set out in company with a priest called Genmon. The two men left Seto March 10, 1804. They were escorted to the outskirts of the district by all the chief men of Seto, such a journey for such a purpose being regarded as an undertaking of almost solemn magnitude. Arrived in Amakusa, Tamikichi found hospitality and aid at Tōkōji. The Abbot deputed a priest to introduce him to a porcelain manufacturer called Ueda Gensaku, whose factory he entered. Here he soon mastered the mechanical processes of the workshop, but the principles, the nature of the ingredients and the proportions in which they were mixed, remained a sealed book to him. As to these things, Gensaku would teach him nothing. Tamikichi determined to push on to Hizen. Again the priests came to his assistance. From the Abbot of Tōkōji he received a letter enlisting the good offices of the Prior of Saihōji, a temple in the island of Hirado. Leaving Gensaku's factory under pretence of a brief visit to the town of Nagasaki, he found a warm welcome at Saihōji, where the Prior himself had just commenced the diversion of making Raku faience.
The keramists of Mikawachi (Hirado) then enjoyed the highest reputation among their fellow craftsmen throughout Japan. Tamikichi was franked on to another temple (Yakuōji), and by the aid of its priests found himself presently in the service of Imamura Ikuemon, chief potter to the lord of Hirado. He did not remain there long. The local officials were careful to enforce an order prohibiting the residence of any one from another fief. Once more he entreated the good offices of the priests, and after many difficulties succeeded, at last, in obtaining an entry to the factory of Fukumoto Nizaemon, in Sasamura (Hizen). Ten months had now elapsed since Tamikichi left Seto. He worked two years at Fukumoto's factory, and became so skilled that his master made determined efforts to retain his services permanently. The Seto potter could not bear to treat his teacher unceremoniously. He waited patiently until a letter, written at his request by the Abbot Tenchū, rendered the necessity for his departure clear to Fukumoto. On his way back Tamikichi called at Arita, and there, for the first time, saw the factories where the celebrated enamelled porcelains were produced. The Mikawachi potters were incomparably skilled in the preparation of pâte and glazes, in the use of the modeller's and engraver's tool, and in the application of blue sous couverte. But they worked very little in vitrifiable enamels. Tamikichi desired earnestly to master this process. He employed a clever ruse to compass his object, but the Arita potters had too much respect for their lives to be incautious. It was only when, paying a farewell and apologetic visit to his first teacher Gensaku, in Amakusa, Tamikichi told the whole story of his labours and subterfuges, that Gensaku, moved to admiration, consented to reveal the secrets of decorative enamelling.
On the 5th of July, 1807, Tamikichi returned to Seto, where he was treated as a hero and handsomely rewarded by the Prince of Owari. In conjunction with his father, Kichizaemon, he built a kiln, and manufactured a choice piece of porcelain which he presented to his Prince. It would appear that in this first essay he used materials brought from Amakusa. The work was so excellent that Tamikichi was officially authorised to assume the patronymic "Kato." It was also ordered that his ware should be distinguished as Some-tsuke-yaki (ware decorated under the glaze), the term Hon-gyo (original industry) being used to designate the pottery manufacture. Kichizaemon and Tamikichi thenceforth called themselves Kagetō and Yasukata, respectively. The memory of the latter is scarcely less revered in Owari than that of Katō Shirozaemon.
Mr. Korschelt has analysed eleven specimens of modern Owari porcelain masses, and found them considerably different in composition. Here follow the analyses of the two varieties which contain the highest and lowest percentages of silica:—
OWARI PORCELAIN MASS
| Silica. | Alumina. | Iron Oxide. |
Lime, Magnesia, etc. |
Water. | |||
|
65.07 | 025.85 | 0.55 | 6.74 | 1.32 | ||
|
75.48 | 015.14 | 0.10 | 6.11 | 2.20 |
Into the composition of all the porcelain masses examined it was found that there entered a clay called Kaeru-me, obtained from Shimo-shinano, and a stone called Ishiko, obtained from Ishitobi. Occasionally another stone called Gyaman-ishi (glass-stone) is added: it is pure quartz. The Kaeru-me clay differs very considerably in composition. Of eleven specimens analysed, the constituents of the two which least resemble each other are here given:—
"KAERU-ME" CLAY
| Silica. | Alumina. | Iron Oxide. |
Lime, Magnesia, etc. |
Water. | |||
|
48.94 | 036.48 | 0.48 | 1.22 | 12.69 | ||
|
81.88 | 013.15 | 0.39 | 0.35 | 4.37 |
Mr. Korschelt, however, in spite of this great difference, decides that the Kaeru-me clay must be called Kaolin. Now, as this clay preponderates in the composition of the Owari porcelain mass, an important distinction is immediately established between the latter and the Arita mass, which consists almost entirely of Petuntse. It may be interesting to mention here that the first specimen of Kaeru-me clay mentioned above corresponds very closely in composition with the Kaolin used in Cornwall for the manufacture of porcelain. On the other hand, among the various varieties of Kaolin found in Europe, there is not one which contains such a high percentage of silica as the second of the Owari specimens. With regard to the composition of the Ishiko, two specimens out of thirteen analysed gave the following results:—
ISHIKO
| Silica. | Alumina. | Iron Oxide. |
Lime, Magnesia, Potash, etc. |
Water. | |||
|
98.61 | 000.34 | 0.37 | 00.29 | 0.56 | ||
|
65.75 | 018.67 | 0.66 | 14.89 | 0.38 |
If this Ishiko be considered with regard to the quantities of felspar, quartz, and clay substance which it contains, great variations are observed, as will be seen from the following table:—
ISHIKO OF OWARI
| Felspar. | Quartz. | Clay Substance. | |||
|
53.61 | 39.70 | 05.62 | ||
|
35.24 | 49.95 | 14.34 | ||
|
60.72 | 35.81 | 02.02 | ||
|
37.90 | 55.02 | 05.47 | ||
|
71.36 | 24.62 | 02.37 |
These differences are striking. It is plain that the Owari potter, using such a variable material, can never be sure of his results. This, indeed, is at present the great obstacle to the large development of which his trade is certainly capable. However uniform may be the temperature of the ovens, the condition of the baked ware can never be predicted. Warped plates, distorted bowls, and decrepit vases are just as likely to emerge from the furnace as perfect specimens. Ornamental tiles might be a profitable product of the Seto industry. In such a line Owari could defy competition; for where else is art labour available on terms so easy that the decoration of every tile might be an independent conception? But the Owari tiles are practically valueless. They are too crooked to be used in any symmetrical structure, and to employ only those with even surfaces entails the rejection of so many that the price becomes prohibitive. So it is with plaques, table-tops, and other large, flat objects, which the Seto workmen are fond of producing as tours de force. These, when they do succeed, are decorative and imposing; but the percentage of failures is absurdly large, and the cost proportionately high. Difficulties of a cognate nature have always beset the Japanese keramist. Some lack of mathematical regularity is so common in his pieces that ignorant foreign amateurs often regard imperfections of shape as a mark of age and excellence. How is such infatuation to be described? It is true that the morbidly rustic canons of Cha-no-Yu tolerate technical accidents which shock the instincts of less romantic critics. Yet, even by these extravagant æsthetes, such blemishes are not approved, but only condoned for the sake of some real or imaginary excellence in the specimen they disfigure. Apart from the historical utensils of the tea-clubs, an object of art, to be acceptable in Japanese eyes, must before all things possess correctness of form. A lacquer box, however elaborate its decoration, however rich its material, is fatally condemned should its lid deviate by so much as a hair's breadth from perfect fit. So in keramics, the highest test of the potter's skill was to produce a set of rice-bowls, for example, of such correct shape and uniform size that their covers should be absolutely interchangeable. In fact a misshapen vessel has always been as flagrant an evidence of faulty technique in Japanese estimation as in European. The potteries of Owari, with a curiously blind confidence in the balance of chances, continue to use a greatly varying conglomerate of felspar and quartz, trusting to fortunately exercised skill for the result; and that, too, when both of these minerals are to be found in sufficient purity everywhere throughout the province. A workman who exercises his reasoning faculties will naturally endeavour to obtain his raw materials in a state of the greatest purity. That the manifest advantage of such a precaution is not appreciated by the artisans of Seto must be attributed partly to ignorance, and partly to the fact that they find it much easier to pulverise the conglomerate, Ishiko, than to pulverise quartz and felspar separately. The opinion of Western experts does not go so far as to recommend that Ishiko should be abandoned altogether, in favour of pure quartz and felspar, though some such radical measure may appear unavoidable so long as the manufacturer is not in a position to analyse the composition of his Ishiko; and having regard to the conditions that exist in Japanese porcelain districts, as well as to the miniature nature of the factories, it would be extravagant to expect that degree of educated competence for the present at all events. Perhaps the best remedy is to be found in a combination of manufacturers, and the establishment of an institution to analyse, and if, necessary, to procure and distribute, the raw materials. Without some measure of this sort, the immense capabilities of the porcelain industry in Owari must remain virtually undeveloped. On the other hand, such a scheme will scarcely find favour until the potters begin to appreciate the full value of combining resources and economically dividing labour.
CONSTITUENTS OF OWARI PORCELAIN
| No. | Felspar. | Clay Substance. | Quartz. | ||
|
50.72 | 13.65 | 31.63 | ||
|
35.84 | 19.17 | 43.08 | ||
|
59.20 | 25.38 | 13.43 | ||
|
41.50 | 27.38 | 29.30 | ||
|
34.04 | 36.78 | 26.10 |
One of the most difficult feats of the Japanese potter was to produce monochromatic glaze of Mazarin blue (ruri). This could be accomplished only by using the best Chinese or Japanese cobalt. European smalt gives a wholly inferior colour. When to this blue ground white designs in high relief were applied, a rich and charming result was attained. Such a fashion of decoration was successfully followed by the experts of Hizen and Owari in former times. It was generally used for flower-pots, water-vessels, and so forth.
OWARI PORCELAINS DECORATED OVER THE GLAZE
It is difficult to say precisely when the use of enamels and pigments over the glaze came into vogue in Owari. Certainly the potters of Tamikichi's time did not affect this style, from which it may be inferred that the information given by Gensaku of Amakusa to the Seto student was not so full as the latter's annalists claim. According to some authorities, painted porcelain was first produced in Bishiu at the Inagi-mura kiln. This was a factory situated about two miles (English) from the castle of Inu-yama, on the left bank of the Kiso River. It was opened in 1752, and from that time until 1810 the various faiences for which the province was celebrated were manufactured there. These pieces are to be identified only by the mark (Inu-yama). The ware was called either Inuyama-yaki or Kenzan-yaki (Kenzan being another method of pronouncing the ideographs inu-yama). In 1810 the factory was moved to Maru-yama, east of the castle, and the ware was thenceforth known as Maru-yama-yaki. About this time, or a little later, porcelain began to be included among the Maruyama products. It was, however, decorated only with blue under the glaze. Not till 1835 did a potter called Michihei introduce the fashion of sur-couverte decoration. He took as his model a peculiarly rough Chinese porcelain (known in Japan as Gosu-aka-e), which was valued by the tea-clubs on account of its bold designs and antique associations. This variety of the Maru-yama-yaki—or Inu-yama-yaki, as it is popularly but erroneously called—may be described as thick and somewhat clumsy porcelain, having a solid, lustrous glaze, and decorated with archaic designs in blue sous couverte, and red ochre, green, and gold over the glaze. It is not a manufacture of any beauty or merit, and it may be dismissed, as may also the subsequent story of the Maruyama factory, by saying that the recent productions of the latter are faience of the rudest type.
Shortly subsequent to, or perhaps contemporaneous with, this new departure by Michihei at Maruyama, an expert called Kawamoto Jihei (better known by his mark, Sosendo) began to employ vitrifiable enamels. The style adopted bore some resemblance, in point of design, to that of the Nabeshima factories, but the enamels were less brilliant, and, the glaze lacking solidity and purity, the general effect was rather confused than brilliant. A much better conception of the same potter was to add floral designs in green, blue, yellow, and light red (or pinkish) enamels to the dead-leaf glaze of the old Seto masters. Another variety, the manufacture of which dates from 1840, and it is said to have been conceived by the Prince of Owari himself, had cherry-flower and maple-leaf enamelled decoration on slate-coloured, or grey, ground. At that time the best porcelain decorators were assembled at the Sankō temple, and had their kilns within its enclosure. Among them an artist of special note was Kanematsu Shōsuke. Their pieces enjoyed considerable popularity. So rare, however, are authenticated specimens of enamelled Owari porcelain dating farther back than the abolition of feudalism (1868), that this branch of the Seto manufacture may be called a practically recent departure. Even now the work of decoration over the glaze cannot be said to be carried on in Owari itself, the fact being that Owari porcelain is brought to Tōkyō and Yokohama and painted there. Advisedly the term "painted" is here used because in the atelier of the Tōkyō e-tsuke-shi (decorator) vitrifiable enamels are almost unknown; he prefers pigments,—dark brown, black, red, gold, green, pink, and yellow. Sometimes the designs are traced on white ground; sometimes the ground itself is tinted. The pictures are often of high merit,—beautifully executed, cleverly distributed, and full of artistic instinct. Outside Japan such work could only be executed at almost prohibitive expense; in Tōkyō it is done by artists who are happy if they earn half a dollar daily. Pages would be needed to convey an idea of the wealth of fancy displayed in the decoration of modern Owari porcelain. It will suffice, however, to say that the dominant feature of the decoration is pictorial. No other Japanese ware has been so thoroughly and frankly adapted to Western tastes. From the monster pieces of blue and white manufactured in Owari (vases six feet high and garden pillar-lamps half as high again do not at all perplex the modern Seto keramist) to the tiny coffee-cups decorated in Tōkyō with their delicate miniatures of birds, flowers, insects, fishes, and so forth, there is nothing that does not indicate the death of the old order. Seto and the Tōkyō ateliers constitute the Stoke-upon-Trent of Japan, always excepting the triumphs of plastic art for which the latter is renowned.
Owari porcelain is easy to recognise by the peculiarly chalky, soft appearance of its pâte. This feature is more marked in modern than in old ware.
Since 1868 the Owari potters have introduced an entirely novel method of decorating porcelain, by cloisonné enamelling. The art of enamelling upon copper had long been known and practised in Japan. A knowledge of the process is said to have been acquired at the close of the sixteenth century, when the patronage of the Taikō imparted such a marked impulse to all the art-industries of the country. But although the Japanese manufactured cloisonné enamel which was not wanting in evidences of patient dexterity, their work was never really satisfactory. They were unable to produce the beautiful colours of the Chinese experts, and their artistic instinct consequently impressed a different character upon their pieces. The Chinese applied his full-bodied brilliant colours to vessels of solid construction; the Japanese laid his tracery of dull, impure blues, greens, and reds upon bowls and vases thin enough to consort with their weak-toned decoration. It may be briefly stated that before the opening of the country to foreign intercourse the art of cloisonné enamelling never attained much development in Japan. It was practised, indeed, with sufficient diligence to supply a considerable number of specimens; but the best of these were comparatively unattractive. No sooner, however, were foreign markets thrown open than enamellers, like all the other artist-artisans of Japan, responded to this new demand, and with the assistance of imported pigments and Western chemists began to produce pieces of great beauty and brilliancy. The use of cloisonné enamelling for porcelain decoration was among the earliest inspirations of the new school. The porcelain was treated as though it were metal. Its surface was covered with a network of copper cells, into which enamels were filled. There was only this difference between the methods pursued with copper and porcelain: the enamel pastes for the decoration of the latter were soft and easily vitrifiable, so that they refused to respond to the polishing processes subsequently employed. Thus the result was dull and unprepossessing. It would be difficult to conceive a wider departure from the canons of true art than this reckless association of hard metal and brittle porcelain. Such a vitiated industry could never have flourished under purely Japanese auspices. Its only patrons were Europeans and Americans whose tastes lay in the direction of curiosities rather than of works of art. Encouraged by these patrons, the industry is still continued, though on a reduced scale, in Nagoya, the chief town of Owari, by a company called the Shippō-gaisha. (The term Shippō literally signifies "the seven precious things." In Japan it is used also to designate cloisonné, or champlevé, enamel.)
Not by any means on account of its merits, but solely for the information of inexperienced collectors, reference must be made to a faience of which large quantities have been manufactured during the last few years in Owari. It is a counterfeit Satsuma ware, and the perpetrators of the fraud have not hesitated to import materials from Tsuboya itself to make the deception more complete. Medicated and begrimed specimens of this Bishiui-yaki are still successfully palmed off on unsuspecting foreigners to an incredible extent, and will probably continue to find purchasers so long as men are sanguine enough to fancy that the long-since depleted curio market still contains treasures accessible to themselves alone, and so long as the disfigurements of age and the blemishes of wear find people who regard them as beauties. Vases made in Owari with clay from Kiushiu may, of course, be quite as good as anything produced in Satsuma itself, but in point of fact they are not. Besides, Owari materials are generally used in part, at any rate. No difficulty ought, then, to be experienced in distinguishing a specimen, for not only is the Owari clay darker and denser than that of Satsuma, but the ware and the glaze are both thicker, while the latter has a peculiarly dull, viscid appearance not easily mistaken. The crackle, too, is more strongly marked, and, though fine, is often irregular, being for the most part nearly imperceptible on the inner and under surfaces of the piece. Finally, the decoration is so coarse that it does not assort ill with patches of grime and stains of lye added to simulate antiquity.
SETŌSUKE-YAKI
A commonly received tradition says that an Owari potter, by name Setōsuke, having studied the art of porcelain making at Seto, established a factory at Yokkaichi, in the province of Ise, about the year 1770. From what has been written above, it will be seen that this is impossible, since porcelain was not produced at Seto before the beginning of the nineteenth century. Setōsuke was certainly an Owari expert, and he did settle at Yokkaichi about the time mentioned. But the ware he manufactured was not porcelain. It was faience, having a brownish pâte, covered with diaphanous craquelé glaze, and ornamented with archaic designs in white slip, inlaid after the style of Korea or Yatsushiro (vide Yatsushiro-yaki). Setōsuke produced also other faiences not differing appreciably from those of Owari. At a subsequent period he, or his son of the same name, moved to Yedo, and there manufactured coarse porcelain, decorated with colours over the glaze. The designs were boldly executed, but the ware was only adapted to the rustic tastes of the tea-clubs. The materials were obtained from Owari. Setōsuke worked in Yedo as late as the year 1860.
WARES OF MINO
In former times no serious effort was made to distinguish between the keramic productions of Owari and those of Mino. The wares themselves did not present any features of marked dissimilarity, and moreover the pottery district of Mino being included in the fief of the Owari Princes, its products necessarily passed into the hands of officially licensed dealers of Nagoya, twelve in number, by whom they were sold under the generic name of Seto-mono. There is a record that pottery was manufactured in Mino as far back as the beginning of the tenth century (Enki era, 901–922), and presented to the Imperial palace in Kyōtō, but nothing is known as to the character of the ware, and the connoisseur may fairly assume that it did not differ from the generally uninteresting and worthless products of the period. In the middle of the sixteenth century the family of Katō Shirozaemon of Seto was represented by Kageharu, of whose six sons the second, Yosōbei Kagemitzu, moved (1573) to Kujiri in Mino and established a kiln at the back of a hill on which stood the temple Seianji. His principal manufacture was faience having thick glaze of yellowish white colour and called Haku-yaku-de. A tea-jar of this ware is said to have been presented to the celebrated Oda Nobunaga, who bestowed on the maker a red stamp. Kagemitsu had three sons, Shirozaemon Kagenobu, Yazaemon Kageyori, and Taroemon Kagesada. He also employed Goroemon Kagetoyo (called afterwards Shoemon Kagetada), the second son of his elder brother. Kagenobu appears to have been a more skilled potter than his father. His manufactures attracted so much attention that the Prince of Owari bestowed on him the title of Chikugo-no-Kami. He also received a special order to manufacture faience for the ex-Emperor Goyōzei, who gave to the faience the name Asahi-yaki (morning-sun ware) of Chikugo. It continued to be faience of a rustic character, its thick brownish white, or yellowish white, glaze somewhat resembling a Korean product. About the year 1597 Mori Zenemon, a fugitive expert of Karatsu, in Hizen, came to Kujiri, and sought the hospitality of the Abbot of Seianji. Hearing what this man had to tell of the Karatsu productions, Kagenobu visited that place, and on his return to Mino manufactured faience after the Karatsu style. Thenceforth (about 1600) among the wares of both Mino and Owari craquelé variegated glazes are found, differing essentially from those previously produced, but, though more decorative, not superior or even equal in respect of technical qualities to the glazes of the old Seto-yaki. Kagenobu employed every means to guard the secrets of his new processes, but the experts of the neighbouring province were too clever for him. They very soon succeeded in spying out and imitating his methods (vide Shuntai-yaki). At this period the manufacture of faience was carried on at four places in Mino, namely, Kujiri, Tajimi, Kasa-wara, and Shimoishi. A small tax was levied on the industry, and fiscal records show that the total number of kilns at these four places was twenty-four.
Throughout the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the pottery of Mino appears to have undergone little if any change, but being, as has been said above, constantly confounded with the ware of Owari, nothing can be stated about it with certainty. Some doubt exists also with regard to the date of the earliest production of porcelain in Mino. One record gives the year 1804, and says that the industry was started by a dealer of Ōsaka, named Nishikawaya Mohei, who came to Tajimi carrying specimens of Hizen porcelain. It is not impossible that the first attempt to manufacture porcelain took place then, but it is tolerably sure that nothing of any excellence was produced until the potters of the neighbouring province (Owari) had given the initiative after the return (1807) of Tamikichi from Hizen. The materials used by the Mino porcelain makers were identical with those employed in Owari. From the first the decoration was confined almost exclusively to blue sous couverte, native cobalt (kongo) found in the neighbourhood, and Chinese cobalt (gōsū) being used, the latter for all choice specimens. About the year 1830 great technical skill had been developed, especially at the Ichi-no-kura factory, where was produced blue-and-white egg-shell porcelain of wonderful delicacy. Large pieces of this class were not potted, the workmen limiting themselves chiefly to tiny tea-bowls or wine-cups, of which the outer surface was generally plain, and the inner decorated with designs of the utmost simplicity, exhibiting that charming combination of grace and boldness for which Japanese art is remarkable. An outline sketch of Fujiyama, its blue head touched by golden clouds among which floats a flock of cranes; or, it may be, a single branch of plum-bloom, peeping apparently through mists that hide a forest of flowers; or again, the gable of a cottage, its rustic eave overshadowed by a pine-bough—these are among the subjects most commonly found on the egg-shell porcelain of Ichi-no-kura, and in examining them one is disposed to fancy that the artist's intention has been to suggest, not a permanent picture, but rather some transient vision reflected for a moment on the pure surface of the ware.
It was not till the year 1878 that decoration with enamels over the glaze began to be employed by the Mino potters. This innovation is due to the Tajimi factory. The style adopted closely resembles the modern ware of Kaga, that is to say, designs in gold on a red ground, or medallions containing miniature paintings of flowers, birds, landscapes, etc., and separated by solid spaces of red with scrolls and arabesques in gold. Considerable quantities of this ware find their way to China, probably for the use of the foreign residents, though it is said that the Chinese themselves affect it. A wealthy merchant, Nishimura Fuji, promotes the manufacture and exports the ware.
In recent times common porcelain for domestic use in Japan is largely produced at Tajimi, Ichi-no-kura, and other places in Mino. The decoration, blue sous couverte, is no longer the work of free-hand draughtsmen, but is accomplished by the aid of stencil paper. The pigment employed is European smalt. Economy was always a feature of the Mino methods. It is related that the factories at Tajimi were largely patronised by the Government in the early part of the seventeenth century, not so much for the sake of the merits of their ware as on account of its comparative cheapness, for the potters of Seto, trading on their reputation, had gradually raised their prices to an almost prohibitive degree.
It should be mentioned that among the modern enamelled porcelains of Mino there is a variety having gold decoration in relief after the fashion of late-period Satsuma faience.
Apart from the reputation it acquired in connection with the egg-shell ware of Ichi-no-kura, the province of Mino deserves special notice for the sake of an artist called Gosuke, whose porcelain, painted with blue under the glaze, is in some respects the best of its kind now produced in Japan. The colour is pure and very delicate, the outlines are distinct, and the glaze is lustrous and regular.
One of the most remarkable efforts to which foreign contact roused Japan's keramists is displayed in the white porcelain of Tajimi with elaborate modelling in high relief. Even the gossamer egg-shell ware of Ichi-no-kura looks clumsy beside it, and one is inclined to doubt whether the celebrated flowers of Vincennes that deceived King Louis himself can have been more carefully moulded than some of the specimens Tajimi now furnishes. Plum-blossoms, in which neither leaf, petal, nor pistil differs by a hair's breadth from the dimensions prescribed by nature, or racemes of wistaria with every tendril and foliation copied unerringly, may not be very fitting subjects for production in the most fragile form of an eminently fragile material, but as examples of patience and dexterity they cannot fail to command admiration. It would probably puzzle the best artists of Europe to achieve any finer specimens of modelling in porcelain than those sent by the factory of Tajimi to the first Japanese Exhibition of native manufactures (1877). This Tajimi-yaki is, however, quite a modern production, and the great difficulty of transport as well as the expense of manufacture have hitherto prevented many pieces from leaving the country. The colour of the ware, too, is seldom quite satisfactory. A perfectly pure white is difficult to find.
The Mino potteries are scarcely less important than those of Owari as a producing centre. Their scope, however, is different. For while at Owari large, imposing specimens are manufactured and the tastes of the foreign market are constantly consulted, in Mino small pieces for domestic use are chiefly turned out, and the workmen look primarily to sales in their own country. The total number of kilns in Mino (Gifu Prefecture) at the time of the last census was 188, and the number of potters, 1,017. The corresponding figures for Owari (Aichi Prefecture) were 261 and 1,306.