A second story concerning mouths and spouts
The following represents somebody else’s opinion.
Namely, when considering Japanese pottery, there is no real difference between how its mouths and how the mouths of overseas vessels (including glassware) are made. Such an observation particularly applies to vessels into which a liquid might be placed, and from which such would then be drunk directly. In offering such a bold statement, what is being suggested are the mouths of guinomi, yunomi, and wineglasses, etc. In expanding further, the mouths of the vessels in question represent a boundary line that such liquids transcend as they enter a drinker’s mouth. However, I am of the opinion that such are not in fact a true line of demarcation, but instead a point of separation between a vessel’s content and the human mouth, and that such might be measured and appreciated in terms of representing mere millimeters of thickness. As a potter, in creating those few millimeters, my job is to decide as to just what extent I shall utilize my nerves, and how much I will try and incorporate a sense of expression into such works. Concerning such an idea, I feel that my fellow Japanese potters place quite a weighting on it. To wit, such is an important enough consideration for some of them to throw their whole being into the forming of guinomi and matcha tea bowls.
Although perhaps it cannot be helped in the case of industrial products, with expensive overseas glassware and certain Japanese mass-produced pottery as well, in almost all cases such design elements are seen as representing mere boundaries. While I think that such represents a premise that is good enough for the wares in question, among some Japanese pottery, such elements are not considered so simply. In offering that, I am not merely focusing on whether something can be easily drunk from a particular vessel. Rather, I am touching upon the consciousness that certain potters attempt to imbibe their pieces with.
In one of my previous writings, I discussed the spouts of tokkuri.Concerning that topic, instead of simply focusing on whether or not a piece can be rated on the “classy” aesthetic, sometimes there also exists the desire to drink from something whose execution might be somewhat “coarse,” “alluring,” or even overly “sharp.” Indeed, sometimes a tokkuri whose spout was considered “slovenly” might also seem fitting. Regarding such ideas, I recall an interview conducted with a well-known colleague, in which they were asked to describe what they felt to be a good tokkuri spout. I actually posited as to whether that was a foolish question or even a throwaway line. Whatever the case, the answer offered was of a “spout that a drinker would find difficult to drink from.” Personally, I don’t think such a reply should be considered as excessive if it described a piece that a colleague consciously decided to put everything into.
