A cup made of very fine, dark clay, with an evenly smooth surface, so the artist is to blame for all edges and corners of the building. It shows a lyre-shaped contour, with a crease that defines the line between hip (koshi) and body. The steep but prominent base sits on a very cleanly turned and notched foot ring, circling around an regularly domed centre. Nearly impalpable, the helical furrow of the Rokuro-me emerges from the crease and winds irregularly in depth and breadth towards the coda (yes, reminds a tail) of the flared lip. On one side some strokes of daubing have attenuated the structure of the wall, pushed it in and flattened the circular curve of the lip. Before immersing ourselves into the generously open calice, we may enjoy a gentle ride on the swaying rim, not without some centrifugal effects. From here there is no delay to plunge into the expanding hollow, that is contained by the bottom, tapering into the Cha-damari.
No cutting or sharp-edged tool have been part of the shaping, it has only taken sensitive finger work to create a coherent shape of contained, yet distinct gesture, a subtle synthesis of expression and composure (with a little extra swing at the hip).
Another thing is the glazing. It seems to have been done by panning and dunking, that is with next to no arbitrariness. All depends upon thickness, viscosity and reactiveness of the solution, exposed to gravity, topography and heat. Daubing and throwing have provided for topography, the organic components of the glaze for lively reactions during burning, like tiny gas eruptions forming pits. In some places along ridges and at the rim the running glaze retains, swells, finds ways in a braided flow. This casual distribution generates lighter streaks, dark brows and shades, where the dark biscuit shines through, easily creating a natural structure in the image of 'a rainy day in jungle'.
