Sometimes I feel that I must be mad to be here. Relocating to a foreign land where I don’t know the language, or many people at 74, just to satisfy my curiosity about an ancient ceramic iconic white jar ceramic form. The result of which will most likely have no bearing on my career at all.  As, while I’m here studying Moon Jars with some intensity, there is a show of Moon Jars on in Sydney from which I was excluded, even though I have shown my Moon Jar inspired forms in that gallery in the past, and sold them there. But for some reason, unknown to me, my work isn’t thought to be good enough or appropriate for this show. I can’t pretend that I’m not feeling left out from a show I feel I should have been represented in.

But shit happens and life goes on. If this is the worst that can happen to me, I’m incredibly lucky! I know that I am!

I also know that stuff happens to us all at times. We just have to knuckle down and get on with it. Life goes on. Next?

I’ve been here in the Porcelain Village Residency for one month now. Actually, it was one month last Monday, but I was too busy to write anything down till now. In fact, as of now, its only one more week and I’ll be half way. Tempus fujit! This is my 10th visit to this place. A decade of my life circling and returning, just like the moon and earth. The attraction always pulling me back. I always think that this will be my last visit, but…

I’ve just made my 40th Moon Jar, so that’s good. Actually, I’ve made more than that, but smashed a few up. Especially the earlier ones. As they were not up to scratch. They got slaked them down for re-use, as the unique sericite clay here is very special and hard won, so not to be abused or wasted on inferior pieces. If there is no hint of poetry, then they get the hammer. My most important pottery tool is not my hand crafted stainless profile tool, that I would be lost without, nor my kidney shaped modified special throwing sponge, or my razor Sharpe tungsten turning tool. No! My most important tool is my hammer as it turns out. Can’t allow any feelings of attachment for a bad form. No matter how much effort I put in to it. Even if has taken 3 days to make. If there is no joy or love conveyed in the form, no sense of warmth and communication. If there is no sense of flowing, complete lyrical form and balance. If it isn’t speaking to me. In essence, no poetry, then where is my hammer?

I have to feel proud of the pots that I make and take responsibility for them, as many eyes are on me, simply because I’m the foreigner here. The only non-Asian resident. It could be said of me that I shouldn’t really be here making my weird tributary jars based on the traditional Moon Jar form. Which aren’t really Moon Jars at all, as I’m not Korean, and don’t fully understand the culture. I have been told that there was some ‘chat’ online by ‘important’ people, that for ‘others’ to even think of making something and call it a Moon Jar, is some sort of cultural imperialism and miss-appropriation of cultural identity and some sort of theft of an iconic national ceramic form? 

I haven’t seen the discussion, as I’m not on any social media, but it did make me think about what I’m doing here and why. I interrogate myself fairly often about how I live and what I consume, and how I might be more conscientious about my choices. I quizzed myself deeply over a period of some months, before I eventually applied for this position. For several reasons, not only the cultural theft angle, but also the carbon debt incurred in international flights. Added to that the fact that my presence here has robbed some young and talented artist of a place here and a chance to learn, go on and make important work. I don’t brush this off, or take it lightly. I was quite conflicted. Should I be here?

What helped me to decide positively was the remark, made last year, from the director of the Porcelain Museum in the nearby town, when he saw what I was making back in Australia. We exchange emails periodically. In my early exploration of this iconic form. I was calling what I was making an ‘homage to the Big White Jar’. As I’ve always had a fascination for them, but could never bring myself to make a ‘copy’ of one – even for my own use and satisfaction. But after a decade of visits here, getting more deeply connected to this place through its special 800 year sericite history. As it was the stuff of the soil here that brought me here way back then, as part of my 15 year, ‘5 Stones’ ceramic adventure. 

The Museum Director said to me that what I was doing was different from anything else being done there, and that it would make an interesting addition to the canon. So there was an invitation to follow up on. “Why don’t you apply to come and do that kind of work here?”

Because I’m from Australia, I’m in the opposite hemisphere. I live in the opposite seasons, I live apparently up-side-down on the bottom of the world. It got me thinking that the way to look at the Big White Jar, was from the opposite point of view. So I made them black with a coating of black slip. The dark side of the Moon Jar?

Because I have been doing a lot of sgraffito over the last few years, and because Koreans have a long history of the same technique, which they call ‘Buncheong Ware’, sgraffito seemed appropriate! The significant difference for me, as an antipodean, is that I do it in reverse. The Korean wares are made in dark clay and white slip is applied. I was making white pots and applying black slip then carving back to create my images. I think that it might have been this that caught The Directors eye? Who Knows? I don’t!

Emboldened by this positive response though, I decided to apply for this residency. As I understand it, The Director of the Porcelain Museum is not on the board here, or on the committee for the selection of artists for this residency. So I had to convince several other academic and cultural advisors who actually are the ones making the decision. I was quite unsure as to my suitability for this placement, as the application form clearly stated that applicants should ideally be under 40 years of age, and have at least a 4 year degree level. ie masters or better. I fail the first part, but fortunately I was OK on the last bit. I also had to supply 10 images of recent work, not made in an educational institution, or as part of any course of study.  I could tick most of the boxes.

Now since I’ve arrived and started work here, more things have transpired. The Director of the museum has offered me a show in the Museum’s Art Gallery. He feels confident that I will make significant work while I’m here. No pressure! I feel a little awkward about this, as other residents don’t get this offer. They get to show their work here in the Porcelain Village, where the residency is situated. We have a smaller on-site gallery here specifically for our use. The Porcelain Village Residency Gallery. I feel that it has created some sort of barrier between us. Why am I getting special treatment? And I can’t answer that, but I carry a twinge of guilt about it, even though I have made no overtures to be treated differently.

The Director has explained to me that because of the smaller, clean firing, low smoke, wood fired kiln that I built for the Porcelain Museum 2 years ago. There has been some interest in this aspect of the Museum activity. There are now 5 other versions of this kiln built, or in the process of, in Korea as a result, with more in the planning stage. He told me (through his ‘Chat GPT’ interpretation software) that it has had an effect on how some people view the institution now. I assumed that he was talking about the environmental aspects of cleaner wood firing? The Director has his own version of the kiln at his home studio, and has recently had a show of 300 wood fired porcelain bowls in a posh big city Art Gallery. So he is fully onboard with the concept of heavily reduced porcelain created without much, if any, smoke.

He intimated that the fired results from the wood kiln that I built here are significantly different from the traditional kilns. Heavier reduced, with quite a sweet grey/black carbon inclusion that works perfectly against the white porcelain, showing subtle hints of pink to orange flashing, and yet these effects are produced with virtually no smoke. Not many people have seen work quite like this around here before now apparently. 

Two years ago, when I built the kiln. I fired it using the local pine that everyone uses around here, and managed to fire it with a little smoke, however, keeping a clean, smoke free reduction using pine took a lot of concentration, and a lot of effort. I suggested at that time, that my kiln would fire cleaner with the use of hard wood instead of pine. Eyebrows were raised! So we sourced some local oak tree timber. This is not considered suitable for kiln firing here and is therefore a lot cheaper, and as it turned out, It worked very well. I also suggested that the local Acacia species that grows on the hill sides around the pottery, in fact, right outside my studio window, would also be worth trying, but this suggestion has not been taken up – yet!

The use of local oak instead of pine, has allowed us to virtually eliminate smoke, while still creating beautiful reduced effects on the porcelain surface and a lovely ash deposit. These are aesthetic qualities not usually embraced in the traditional Moon Jar aesthetic. In fact there is some push-back from conservative thinkers about this black surface on white porcelain. The Shock Of The New!  They’ll get used to it! 

It is quite lovely in its own right. Not the usual traditional look, but still very beautiful!  I’d like to see some of my large white jars come out of the kiln like this. The Director has encouraged me to follow this route, rather than the black slip train of thought that I started with. So I am now making work that I hope will come out largely flashed with grey to black carbon inclusions, but without slip. Time will tell.

He tells me that as I have created the conditions for this new surface quality to be created. This surface belongs to me when I’m here, so I should make use of it and take delight in making my version of the iconic Korean Moon Jar with an Australian wood fired surface.

So I’m set free from my worries about cultural theft and imperialism. I’m invited, even encouraged, to follow my own interests and ways of working, thinking and making. while adapting to local materials and fuels in my efforts to make the big white jar of my crazy dreams. Whether or not there is, or will be, any poetry in these pots of mine is yet to be discovered. The hammer will decide.

When I arrived here at the end of winter. I was wearing a T shirt, a shirt and a jumper, and feeling a little bit under-dressed. Now a month on, the weather is changing weekly, even daily. One month on, I’m now down to bare feet, shorts and a singlet. I’m told that the rainy season is about to start, half way through June through to half way through August, it will rain almost every day and the humidity will be 100% for most of July. Nothing will dry, everything starts to go mouldy. The only way to dry washing reliably is to use a dryer.

I’ve taken this onboard and decided to make the largest size of jars first and then work down in size to the smaller sizes last. This is totally the opposite way around for me at this time. Usually, I’d prefer to make a lot of smaller pieces first up, so as to get a feel for the sericite clay bodies that they offer here, and get to learn all about their shortcomings. Like photo-sensitivity – cracking if exposed to direct sunlight! Sounds impossible, but it is true. I’ve had to change my habits a bit to cope. The first one that I put out in the direct sunlight one afternoon, split open like a ripe fruit! It isn’t some hitherto unknown life-form, just that if the clay is exposed to direct sunlight, the clay dries out more on that side too quickly, and hair-line cracks form. Sometimes large cracks! This stuff isn’t clay of course. I have to keep reminding myself. It’s ground up rock dust that appears to be plastic in the same way as clay, but actually isn’t. 

Amazingly, I can manage to throw 10 kg lumps of the stuff into 450mm dia. bowls with a small foot, two of which are joined together, one on top of the other, in what potters call ‘top-hatting’. Once joined by pinching the two parts together, I then use the hammer and anvil technique, incorporating a wooden block on the inside of the form and a wooden paddle on the outside, to beat the joint together, compressing it. This should make a secure joint if done well. Or, a horribly distorted wobbly pot if not. It takes a little bit of nuanced practise to get it joined securely, but not altered from its intended form.

A bowl of 450mm. is considered to be the ideal size to throw, or so the potters around here tell me. This should give a finished jar of approx. 400mm dia. The size of some of the ancient archetypes. So that is what I’m doing. 

Throwing larger lumps of 15 kgs can result in a larger jar to impress people. I’ve had a go at it and lost a couple to slumping at the end of the throwing process, this stuff is rather floppy and doesn’t hold up well. I have completed one larger jar of 550 mm dia. to my own satisfaction.

Making really big ware is for the younger testosterone driven youngsters who need to impress to get noticed. I used to do it, but I’m neither young, nor needing to make an impression any more.

These days, I just want the satisfaction of making something elegant and beautiful that I can be proud of. Because, lets face it. All these pots will be staying here. I won’t be carrying a dozen 15kg jars home in my hand luggage on Jetstar!

The other residents here, Museum staff, and Korean friends will be the beneficiaries. My contract states that the Museum has the rights to the first choice of anything that I make here to add to their collection. After that…

I don’t know if my work will be for sale at the exhibition at the end of my stay? I haven’t counted those chickens yet!

I’m slowly filling all the shelving available to me in my studio, then the corridor outside, and finally in the kiln room. 

It’s a race against the on-coming monsoon rains, to get all the big work done and more or less dried in time, before the rainy season. At home I know my clay and its short-comings, as well as its strengths. I have a certain confidence with it. I have a tendency towards the ‘go fast and break stuff’ sort of work schedule. I do usually stop before I break stuff though, but I do get a lot done! Here however, everything is different, from photo-sensitivity, through kidney shape warping if there is a breeze blowing through the studio. and there usually is, because there are no windows in the studio. Just big doors at both ends, so there is usually quite some breeze flowing through. I’ve learnt to leave the freshly potted big jars on the wheel, running on slow to keep the pot rotating and keeping it from drying out on one side only while the initial drying takes place. Also Being a 200# mesh fine porcelain paste body, it has a capacity to blow up if heated too quickly, and then to crack later on in the firing if fired too fast! Temperamental!

If any of these big jars actually survive, I’ll be proud of them.