When I am empty please dispose of me properly

In the first part of this series I talked a little about collecting and ended my last post with a discussion of ceramics and several questions about aesthetic judgment. I also mentioned that one of the reasons surveys of art history shy away from ceramics is because they are so often nonrepresentational. That, of course, has not stopped people from talking about nonrepresentational art and artistic movements, such as minimalism.

In this third part, I want to continue with this discussion and stay with ceramics to examine a couple of examples, which were never created to be viewed as “art.” In the next post I will turn to studio ceramics which are produced with the idea of art clearly in mind.

I bought the Seto sakabin illustrated above in a small junk shop located in the valley through which the old road between Fukuoka and Oita-ken passes. There is now an interstate highway so few use this old road except those who find the drive itself pleasant or are looking for a remote onsen. To judge by the condition of the shop few actually stopped there. It was filled with old vessels, perhaps none of great value, but many of them beautiful for the kind of unselfconsciousness that Yanagi Soetsu has found praiseworthy in Korean Yi dynasty Ido wares. The pots in this shop were not created with great care and were never intended to be seen as art. Nor perhaps do they even seem likely candidates to be promoted to the level of found art, if the Kizaemon Ido Chawan is the standard by which they are judged, but for those of us used to paper and plastic they are nevertheless special. They make us think. Having outlived their original function, they petition us to find a new use for them. They persist and resist annihilation.

I have a similar feeling for this green glazed bowl from Antigua, Guatemala, which in 2000 cost about three dollars. It is not old like the sakabin, but to me it and the other pieces that I choose from the kiln are of great aesthetic value not only because of their appearance, but also because they add something to every meal in which they are used. Again part of what makes this bowl special is the experience of acquiring it, of walking along the streets of Antigua and especially of visiting the potter’s workshop.