Hi Forrest! It’s Angela.

You should see the persimmons that are hanging all over the place. They are ripe! I’ve never experienced autumn in Japan and the seasonal scenery is very exciting. I’m living in a city called Munakata. It’s in northern Kyushu and Kyushu’s the southern most island of Japan. I’m enjoying the new neighborhood very much. It’s rural. And what fun, the apartment I live in is boldly named “Flower Taguma”. “Ta” means paddy (as in rice) and “guma (kuma)” means bear (as in the animal). I haven’t seen any bears with flowers roaming around rice paddies but nevertheless, it’s a charming area. There’s a beautiful old sake brewery right next door and outside my window, there’s lots of bamboo that rustles its leaves. From the veranda, I can see mountains and right in front of the apartment is a park with dirt, swings, monkey bars and a set of old people who play croquet every afternoon.

It’s been five years since I was last in Japan. Things that are new and notable: Fashion (why of course) � clunky shoes for women, clunky shoes for men. Portable phones � everyone has one and they are tiny, tiny, tiny. A mere fraction of what’s considered slick in the States. High school kids carry these powerful tools of convenient communication in their pockets and Hello Kitty even has its own model. Are you familiar with Hello Kitty? Finally, mini discs � these high quality discs that store and record music. They’re about half the size of compact discs and now all stereos in Japan have MD components. People swear that once you hear the quality of MD’s you never go back to listening to tapes. Apparently MD’s are available in the U.S. but are still very expensive and yet to make their big breakthrough. Ah, but perhaps this sheds light on the future...

Things that have not changed: The darn punctual trains � coming from a city where anything goes [Angela is from New York, ed.] regarding subway schedules, the precision and punctuality of the trains here are as unnerving as ever. It definitely stresses one’s own lack of punctuality and apparent tardiness. A friend recently asked what I could use as a house warming gift. Desperately, I answered, “a big clock.” Thanks to this latest addition to Flower Taguma, I’m getting better at catching trains but there’s still a lot of frantic running toward stations. Run, run!

To ease traveling nerves, a potter friend has been kindly driving me around to ceramic sights. One weekend, we ventured over the mainland and went to Hagi in Yamaguchi prefecture. Hagi is known for its smooth creamy white glazes and also for its range of soft glossy pastels. While flipping through a ceramic supplies catalog, I noticed that hagi clay was rather expensive. It’s interesting. Ceramics in Japan is very specific � the clay, the glaze, the style and the geography are clearly defined. Each region has its style, its Human National Treasures and lineage of potters. While at Hagi, one potter asked me, “So what is American ceramics like?” He knew of Voulkos and Paul Soldner. When I’m in Japan, people often ask me what America is like and how Americans feel about certain issues. I try to explain that I cannot speak on behalf of a nation and that America is a big country with many regions and peoples. After that, I try to share with them things I’ve noticed. So, when this potter asked me to tell him what ceramics is like in the U. S., you could imagine the swirls that went on in my mind. All I could say was that Voulkos and Soldner are indeed significant figures but not every American ceramicist is like them. This particular potter said that he once participated in a workshop with Paul Soldner and I got a strong sense that he is under the impression that American potters throw without shirts on. He kept referring to Soldner’s bare torso. I told him that many potters in the States work in cold climates and very much clothed.

On a different note regarding exhibitionism, there was a complex at Hagi which I believe was specifically for tourists. It was made up of a gallery, gift shop, kiln area and this is what really caught me, a large room for people to walk through and watch behind glass panels, potters throwing. It’s the potters in action attraction. It was a very intriguing spectacle and eventually I realized the complex itself exists as a result of people’s interest in ceramics. Since arriving in Japan, I’ve been impressed at how everyday people know quite a lot about pottery. In the past, I’ve tried to systematically learn the looks through books but it never really seeped in. Now, I’m surrounded by the actuals. I’m convinced that anyone who wants to take a survey course in Japanese ceramics can basically learn the material in department stores here. The dining/home areas are stocked with dishes, rice bowls, noodle bowls, chopstick rests, ewers, soy sauce plates, pickle plates, sake cups, sake decanters, it goes on and on. They come in different styles from various regions and the inventory changes with the seasons. And these are not fancy ware. They’re for daily meals. My father’s a cook. Being the fortunate soul that I am, I was always surrounded by wonderful, beautiful, food, but roaming around these department stores really does make apparent the large role ceramics play in domestic life here.

Another pottery town that I recently went to was Koishiwara in Kyushu. Distinct characteristics of Koishiwara ware are transparent honey glazes and clear glazes over white slip. The clay body is dark. There’s also a lot of slip brush work and chattering. This is where my friend trained for seven years. I met the potter he trained under, I met this potter’s neighbors and I met his other neighbors. What was confusing at first was that all the people I met were potters and they all had the same last name, Ota. They did not seem to be blood related and later my friend explained that in the past, potters had to have certain names in order to be respected. Therefore, anyone wanting to be a serious potter took on the appropriate potter’s name of the town. I found this quite interesting. Two of the men I met had fathers who were potters and sons who are potters as well. Another man, who lived in an absolutely amazing house that was over 270 years old and had a thick thatched roof, was himself the son of a potter but only had daughters. The eldest is carrying on the tradition and is working at the studio but I heard they’re hoping a potter man will marry in to the family and take on their name. While trotting around Koishiwara with my friend, I could not help but notice how often he was asked whether he’s married yet. A few times, people asked if we were married. Thinking back, I remember the potter in Hagi (the one I failed to enlighten regarding American ceramics). He too asked my friends about his marital status and when he learned that he was still single at the whopping age of 34, he heartily encouraged him to marry, since having a wife provides stability and a certain peace of mind that bears fruit in the studio. As a woman, this all fascinated me. I met all of the wives of the potters in Koishiwara and I could see how vital they were to their husbands’ “peace of mind”. What I am now most curious about is what will happen to the roles at the Ota No. 3 Household when the eldest daughter marries. Who will be the potter and who will be the spouse? If I hear the clanging of bridal bells in Koishiwara any time soon, I will definitely give you an update on the scene.

Oh, Forrest, please excuse all the tangents my letter has taken! My senses are being provoked in many, many ways. I’m realizing there’s an enormous amount to see. One thing that truly captured me was a small white bottle I came across at a little museum in Koishiwara. I secretly took a photo of it and send you a copy. It’s an old anonymous piece from Kagoshima (southern Kyushu).

I hope all is well in Maine; it must be getting chilly!

I look forward to sharing more with you soon,

Angela