A couple of weeks ago my father-in-law proudly told me that he had given order to repair an old broken birth bord for his daughter 's birthday. "You don't see anything anymore." which I understand is a great piece of Western craftmenship. A couple of years earlier I have been attracted by the Japanese art of Kintsugi. While the goal of traditional Western-style ceramic repair is to make the piece look like it was never damaged, Kintsugi is a four-hundred-year-old Japanese tradition that looks diffently to old broken ceramic: Kintsugi, which translates as "golden joinery" uses a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum, to fix the object in a way that highlights (rather than hides) the damage. It’s a way of repair that celebrates the breakage as part of the object’s history, rather than as the end of the story. The idea behind kintsugi and the elements it used weren’t new, however. The glue is made from the sap of the Rhus verniciflua plant, which has been employed in Asia for about 5,000 years to adhere things, initially the parts of weapons. And the concept underlying kintsukuroi (金繕い ) was already gaining ground in Japan at the time; it stems from the wabi-sabi aesthetic philosophy, which cultivates appreciation for flaws and a belief in the beauty of imperfections. According to legend, the craft was invented when 15th-century shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa broke his favorite Chinese tea bowl and sent it back to China to be repaired. The bowl was returned, fixed, but held together by ugly metal staples. The coarseness of the repair spurred the Japanese craftsman on to find a more elegant repair solution. Kintsugi arose as a way to not merely fix a broken object but to transform it into something beautiful. Kintsugi, or gold splicing, is a physical manifestation of resilience. Instead of discarding marred vessels, practitioners of the art repair broken items with a golden adhesive that enhances the break lines, making the piece unique. They call attention to the lines made by time and rough use; these aren’t a source of shame. In the 16th century, Japanese tea ceremony masters rebelled against the prevailing taste of luxury and opulence, instead prizing simple items marked by time and process. They celebrated irregularity, rough surfaces, asymmetry, and defects in tea ceremony implements and settings. “These qualities often appear in the aging process or result from happenstance during the creative process … It turns a problem into a plus. The golden repair method also corresponds to the Japanese notions of “mottainai,” an expression of regret at waste, and “mushin,” the need to accept change. Kintsugi is the Zen Buddhist philosophy as it’s applied to physical items—emphasizing engaging with reality, the materials on hand. The shogun Yoshimasa could surely have replaced his favorite tea bowl, but he didn’t want to waste it. By making it more beautiful after it broke, the local craftspeople respected the changes that time and use wrought on the bowl, and demonstrated that these can be appreciated and even emphasized rather than trying to hide the wear and tear.
Some artists have embraced Kintsugi to create pieces of art rather than a traditional ceramic repair technique. Let's get to know some of my favourite artists embracing kintsugi: Aaron Scythe Aaron Scythe was born in Auckland in 1971, the year of the wild boar according to Japanese astrology. His wife, Saori, says he is exactly like a boar, running full steam ahead without looking around. Dad is a horse-racing journalist and his mother was a fashion designer who owned boutiques, and the Hadney 5 label. “At home we used white Crown Lynn. Mum explained that since she threw them at Dad, cheaper ones were best.” On the days Scythe ran away from school, it was to a small pottery shop in Parnell. “They sold a lot of mugs. I also had a friend whose mother was a potter who later started Masterworks Gallery. The Binneys lived next door. Don was great; took me to see the Asterix and Obelix play at the university. At 14 I realised I wanted to make pots. My parents were disappointed; they’d wanted me to attend Elam and become an artist. ” At 15 Scythe worked full-time as a slip-caster at Halls Industries for a year, and in 1988, began the Craft course at Unitec. It included pottery, jewellery, glass, fibre, design and drawing. He studied bone-carving and photography at night courses, and continued slip-casting on weekends to pay for his studies. “Every slip-casting task had a window of only a few minutes. It taught me to watch the clock and work fast, and I became obsessive about time.” Childhood wasn’t fun with parents who fought, a school he hated, and an eventual nervous breakdown. In rebellion he changed his name to Scythe. “I thought it sounded nice…especially in Japanese, Saisu.” When the family moved to Sydney, Scythe attended an East Sydney Tech pottery course but left after three months. Peter Thompson, a potter at East Sydney on a post-graduate course, offered to teach Scythe wood-firing if he chopped all his wood. “I eagerly agreed and helped fire the kiln a few times. My previous madness for wood kilns began then, a sickness really. Thompson encouraged me to look at old Japanese and Korean pots to see what sort of work suited wood kilns. When I found 16th century Momoyama Oribe shino pots in a book, their quiet vibrance aroused my artistic spirit, just as Crown Lynn tableware dampened it.” The Momoyama period encompasses rustic and high fine art. “Momoyama pots are artefacts from a cultural explosion of war and art, a redefining period in Japan, both politically and artistically. They express a wonderfully spontaneous use and freedom of clay, and glaze. For me Momoyama is like my obsession and love for Saori: each was love at first sight, and I am certain I can’t live without either.” Scythe rented studio space at Sturt (Australian Design and Contemporary Art School), refined basic throwing skills he already had, and learned the rest from books and passionate perseverance. While there he built and fired an anagama kiln. Later he accepted the opportunity to work with a Japanese potter who had a wood kiln in Dubbo “He helped me get to Japan.” “The moment I set foot on Japanese soil, I knew it was home. In NZ I’d lived with a culture whose sensitivities were totally different to mine; English lacked the nuances to express my feelings. Japanese cultural sensitivity is towards art and beauty, and the language enabled me finally to accurately articulate my sensibilities. I fitted.” Scythe moved to the pottery village of Mashiko in 1996. Mashiko housed approximately 350 registered kilns. Taking into account unregistered kilns, plus students working around registered ones, the village was home to over 600 potters. “Mashiko didn’t espouse traditions like Mino, Bizen, or Shigaraki. It produced lunch-boxes and clay pipes before Shoji Hamada made it famous. Because of the Hamada-Bernard Leach connection, gaijin (foreigners) were welcome. Later I began to become well-known, profiled in magazines, interviewed on television, but that took 15 years of 12-14 hour studio-days. Scythe’s work is unique and Japanese potters approved of it, with many attending his exhibitions. “Philosophically my approach is Oribe, although Saori says it’s also Aaron style.” “Oribe is a free-flowing way of making, and it’s a philosophy around non-pretentiousness. Leaving emotion in the clay and not hiding the soul through technique. It’s almost an anti-technique and takes a certain type of person to make this work, the suiken, drunken master kung fu style of pottery. The word, oribe, comes from the Samurai, Futura Oribe, who developed the style, and today refers to Japanese style ash glaze. Master potter, Koie Ryoji, makes Oribe. It’s a style… a feeling, and doesn’t matter whether you use terracotta, porcelain, or clear glaze. “I’m fortunate that my aesthetics around clay are accepted in this era. People often remark that my work seems happy. I think that’s a function of my oribe style. You cannot hide the soul. If you are unhappy, it comes out in the work.” Having lost everything in the earthquake which destroyed Fukushima, Scythe has taken a while to re-accustom himself to NZ. He says, “We aren’t glowing. We know our children have the chance to grow up without a huge risk of cancer, or damaged DNA to pass onto their children. Life is a struggle, yes, but a struggle towards enlightenment, and that’s not possible without barriers. If Fukushima hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t be making the work I make now.” In re-settling with Saori, and their children, Tsubaki (12), and Maori (8), Scythe’s work has changed to express a blend of Japanese and Maori cultures. “One of my hurdles was finding a new language which held interest and meaning for me, and made sense to New Zealanders. As a Morehu I connect best with the Maori prophets. Since the prophets have largely been forgotten, I use their words to start a new conversation as a bridge to my pottery. “My decorative patterns are extracted from old Japanese and Chinese designs: the sea, or lotus stalks in a pond with birds flying over, or persimmons drying in the sun. Unless buyers understand what the designs are, and where they come from, my decoration is lost on them, especially patterns from 16th century pots applied to the surface of skyscrapers with birds flying overhead. Japanese pottery buyers generally understand the designs I use and distort because they’re imbued in the culture. “I’ve had to reinvent what I learned there with materials available here, amongst a clientele with a different cultural understanding of pots. My work has more originality now.” Despite NZ’s vastly different culture, population base, and wealth levels, Saori and Aaron have been surprised by how well his work has been received. Saori manages the business although she doesn’t yet have sufficient English skills for paperwork. She prices, names pieces, and chooses work for galleries. “When I have creative problems I ask her advice. I won’t necessarily agree, but somehow she makes me move aesthetically in the way I should. “Art should bring inspiration and beauty into life. Pottery does both. It has to be made accessible for the public but you can drink your coffee from it. It’s all about beauty and the communication of beauty. In NZ there’s a tendency to believe artists need a great notion, a philosophy, a statement to make, otherwise it’s not good art. Beauty should stand simply as beauty, without a PhD on what beauty is. It’s an international language which doesn’t need translation.” Scythe is inspired by driving his children to school or netball games, or going shopping. He says, “There’s nothing mundane about life; the beautiful faces of my children, sunshine, rain, river, mountains. I learned by watching the genius, Koie Ryoji, that I could create in the way I wanted but had been taught not to; the freedom to behave as a genius. He showed me how to breathe again. Although I haven’t met Suzuki Goro, his pots are magic. “I love the actual doing of pottery, and I do like looking at a board of nicely decorated pots. It gives me hope that something good will come out, but as soon as they’re out of the kiln I lose interest in them. It’s time to make more and do them better.” Scythe enjoys making tea bowls most, accompanied by TV or Youtube in his studio – Ancient Aliens, or Japanese rapcore music, and pottery mixed. “The tea bowl is the simplest form, about 11cm by 9cm, straight-sided, nothing special, but it contains all you can express about clay and life, your personality, your quirks. It is the easiest, yet the hardest to make. The challenge is to identifiably express yourself while maintaining the set characteristics of a non-changeable form; thinking outside the box whilst remaining inside its’ confines.” He is fast on the wheel, but spends roughly equal time between decorating/glazing, and packing the kiln. Hikidashi is a favourite pottery trick and he says his hikidashi glaze is better than he had in Japan. “In Japan there’s a clay for each kiln and type of pot. You can buy Japanese clay raw, with sticks and stones in it. I like that; warts, pimples and all. Some of the expensive clays are difficult to use with so many non-clay particles – the making is interesting and a challenge, and the end product is interesting and unique. It’s likely to break easily or leak, however this is accepted in the service, and severity, of beauty. In NZ, failing a natural source so far, I mostly use terracotta purchased in plastic bags.” Currently using an electric kiln Scythe started with a gas kiln he considered substandard compared to Japanese kilns made from heavy steel casing and bricks. They fired well in reduction or oxidation, and held their heat, but they had to be craned into a studio. NZ kilns can be moved on a trailer. “I used a gas kiln in Japan for oribe work but I built an anagama kiln with a friend which we fired once a year. The wood came from Fukushima (the concentration of radiation in wood kilns is a big problem now). I also built a gas wood kiln specifically for shino, which disappeared in a cloud of dust in the earthquake in less than a second. I fuelled it with pine off-cuts from a mill but had only fired it once before it fell down. I’d like to work with wood kilns again.” Scythe embraces the natural behaviors and characteristics of plastic clay and in his practice he harnesses what most would consider mistakes. He works at achieving excellence in his soft, yet vigorous forms through constant practice, as he enjoys putting in 10–14-hour days, six days a week. Scythe runs occasional workshops but admits to feeling more comfortable when he has clay between his audience and himself. Workshops are often around hikidashi, and what comes from his hands on the day. He says, “It’s the same in my studio. No matter how many pictures I draw or how much planning I do, as soon as I touch clay I change my mind. It’s what I really like about clay – your feelings go into it, and feelings change daily.” In Japan there is a saying nana korobi ya oki, which means fall down seven times, get up eight times. A daring relentlessness characterizes his work and, perhaps, Scythe’s life. He and his family plan to move back to Tajimi, Japan, in the Gifu prefecture in a couple of years. It is an old pottery town, north of Nagoya, and he has a good relationship with a museum and gallery located there. Scythe adds that they also have the best eel restaurant in town. Regularly exhibiting he often has five solo shows a year. His works are held in many private collections, and are available from Trad Meister, and Ichinokura Sakazuki Art Museum in Japan, and at Masterworks, and The Poi Room – Auckland, Form Gallery – Christchurch, Avid Gallery – Wellington, and through a group of smaller shops and galleries in both Japan and NZ. Aaron Scythe currently lives and works in Whanganui, New Zealand. Yee Sookyung
Korean artist Yee Sookyung constructs massive ceramic sculptures that are crafted from rejected porcelain pieces made by contemporary Korean pottery master Lim Hang-Taek. She uses the kintsugi technique to build, not repair.
Born in Seoul, Korea, in 1963, she received a BFA in Painting from Seoul National University in 1987, and in 1989 was awarded an MFA from the same academy. Since 1992, she has had solo as well as group exhibitions in Korea and abroad. Her solo exhibitions include Paradise Hormone (Mongin Art Center, Seoul); Yee Sookyung (Artemesia Gallery, Chicago) and Getting Married to Myself (Indeco Gallery, Seoul / K Gallery, Tokyo). Her group exhibitions include micro-narratives (Saint-Étienne Métropole, Saint-Étienne, France); Shanghai E-arts Festival, (Doll House, Shanghai, China); and the Gwangju Biennale 2006: Fever Variations (Biennale Hall, Gwangju, Korea). In 2012, she was awarded the Korea Artist Prize by the National Museum of Contemporary Art Korea. The fragile nature of ceramics makes them objects of beauty that can easily show the wear of time. Yee Sookyung has pushed this concept beyond its limits with her ongoing Translated Vase series. Since 2002 the well regarded artist has used discarded ceramics like a jigsaw puzzle, piecing them together one by one. Weaving together both large and small scale sculptures, she seals the cracks with 24k gold—a process similar to traditional Japanese kintsugi. Fittingly, the Korean word for crack also means gold, solidifying the material as the perfect finishing touch to her work. Yee Sookyung lives and works in Seoul.
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Whenever we come along something unusual, we can 't resist to dig into it. That recently happened when we designed a dinner table decoration which should make you feel back into the original Palm Beach regency period. Without wanting to bore you with all the details of our search, we would like to tell you more about the table art of the 80s and especially about Doris De Bois. Doris “Dodie” DuBois Thayer Hawthorn, the daughter of pioneers John and Bessie DuBois, who designed status-symbol Lettuce Ware pottery starting in the mid-1960s. Better known as Dodie Thayer, her pottery, which started as a hobby, was a hit with the likes of Frank and Barbara Sinatra, Jacqueline Kennedy, C.Z. Guest and Palm Beach elites. Queen Elizabeth II even ate lunch on a set of specially ordered Lettuce Ware when she visited a Kentucky horse farm in 1986, according to The Palm Beach Post archives. The unique wares, which she created through the mid-1980s, resembled the real thing: lettuce — or, more accurately, cabbage — with stark white veins and bright green flesh. Thayer was born July 29, 1926 to John and Bessie DuBois. She grew up in the historical DuBois family home with her three siblings and parents. In 1960s-era Palm Beach, the mark of a real woman of stature was an elaborate dining-room table set with lettuce- and cabbage-shaped plates, cups, and tureens handcrafted by local potter Dodie Thayer. Brooke Astor, Bunny Mellon, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, and C.Z. Guest waited weeks to buy her goods, each one molded from real pieces of lettuce and sold exclusively at Harriet Healy’s Palm Beach gourmet food and kitchenware store Au Bon Gout. For years these dishes were hidden in the country homes of the elite and reserved for high-society luncheons. She never wanted to sell her pieces to a mass market and only cooperated with one other company during her life. Fashion designer Tory Burch called her in 2013 to launch the Dodie Thayer for Tory Burch collection which comes in either green or white and is quite affordable compared to how much Thayer’s originals can fetch in auction. Though her clientele included the rich and famous, Dodie herself tended to prefer the quieter and private aspects of life. This included spending time with her family. She died July 19 2018 after a “brief illness” at the respectable age of 91. With the weather warming up even in Europe, we now can express our love of the Palm Beach lifestyle and honor this grande dame of lettuce ware. Although we are collectors ourselves and love to decorate our supper club table with lettuce ware, we regularly offer pieces for sale. Be invited to share our love for vegetable - in this case lettuce - pottery from Italy, Portugal, Germany, France, UK or even the US and get infected by the Lettuce-Collectors-Gene.
Huiskamerrestaurant Villa Zonheuvel is een kleinschalig huiskamerrestaurant voor iedereen die van lekker eten en gezelligheid houdt en graag nieuwe mensen leert kennen.
Bij ons wordt u verrast door eenvoudige huismanskost tot smaakexperimenten met hoofdpijn. Verwacht u geen hippe kookkunst, maar vooral heerlijk gezelschap verfijnd met een snufje excentriciteit. In de monumentale villa - in 1925 gebouwd voor het gezin van de geneesheer/directeur van het Sanatorium Zonnegloren - bent u welkom voor een heerlijk drie-gangen-menu in een gezellige sfeer. Reservering vereist . Beperkt aantal plaatsen beschikbaar. Voertaal Nederlands & Engels Kosten 30,00 Euro Begin: 18.30 stipt Opgeven via http://zonheuvel.fikket.nl/ U bent fan van huiskamerconcerten? Kijkt u dan voor ons programma van maandelijkse muzicale optredens van professionele jonge en oude(re) musici! Een avond vol muziek en lekkernijen. We toveren de huiskamer om tot 'concertzaal'. Vanaf 19.30 tot 22.00 uur bent u welkom. Entree 25,- per persoon inclusieve hapjes en drankjes. 23 oktober verwelkomen wij Siebe Palmen. Siebe Palmen (1989) is zanger/liedschrijver van verhalende Nederlandstalige liedjes waarin pop en kleinkunst harmonieus samengaan. Enkel uitgerust met een heldere, trefzekere stem (zonder het rauwe randje te schuwen) en zijn gitaar doet hij iets bijzonders met het publiek: hij zet ze aan het denken en laat ze vergeten tegelijk. In 2015 bracht Siebe zijn debuut-EP “Onkruid” uit. Op de bekende streamingdiensten is sindsdien meer werk verschenen, onder meer uit zijn eerdere oneman horeca-musical “Is alles naar mens?”. In de zomer van 2019 verdiende hij de 2e plaats in de Nekka-wedstrijd; een Vlaamse wedstrijd voor Nederlandstalig lied. Siebes teksten zijn oprecht, confronterend en hebben een tragikomedische lading. De onderwerpen die hij bezingt zijn uiteenlopend, van de relatie tot maatschappelijke problematiek. Dit alles weet hij in een licht en helder poëtische, originele vorm te gieten. Met sarcasme en (cynische) humor. Toch benoemt hij juist ook de schoonheid. Kortom: Siebe is een zeer veelzijdig liedschrijver. U bent fan van huiskamerconcerten? Kijkt u dan voor ons programma van maandelijkse muzicale optredens van professionele jonge en oude musici! Een avond vol muziek en lekkernijen. We toveren de huiskamer om tot 'concertzaal'. Vanaf 19.30 tot 22.00 uur bent u welkom. Entree 25,- per persoon inclusieve hapjes en drankjes. 24 april verwelkomen wij het Ensemble SAME. Het Ensemble SAME is als een cocktail. Ze mengen verschillende muzikale smaken, stijlen en liedjes waardoor er frisse nieuwe arrangementen ontstaan uit het bekende pop en jazz repertoire. Samen weten zij een warm, compleet en akoestisch geluid neer te zetten. Deze vier jonge musici hebben elkaar in 2019 ontmoet op het Utrechts Conservatorium. Het ensemble ontstond hier vanuit de ensemblelessen en na enthousiaste reacties van zowel docenten als medestudenten, veel plezier tijdens de repetities en de ambitie om meer op te treden, besloten ze door te gaan als band. Met de akoestische bezetting van zang, piano, contrabas en drums stoppen zij nummers uit allerlei verschillende genres in de blender en maken ze er een frisse en fruitige cocktail van, waarin o.a. jazz, pop, folk en klassieke elementen te proeven zijn. Onder meer nummers van Sting, Paul Simon, Jimi Hendrix en the Beatles zullen de revue passeren, maar ook eigen repertoire zal gespeeld worden. Herkenning voor iedereen, maar op geheel eigen wijze.
Elaine Hakkaart – zang Stan Verstegen – piano Anosh ter Haar – contrabas Marc Sentenie – drums We are fascinated by this type of glass art inspired by and named after the Jack in the Pulpit flower. After we bought our first vase and trying to find more information we came accross this text by Pamela Wiggins, an antique expert. "This type of vase is said to be named after its resemblance to the poisonous jack in the pulpit flower, which grows in many woodland areas of North America. While it may resemble a preacher standing in a pulpit to some, the glass vase deriving its name from this flower is more stylized and largely represents the shape of its trumpet. It’s said the term Jack in the Pulpit was first used to describe this type of glass vase around 1900 by Louis Comfort Tiffany, who was greatly influenced by the natural beauty found on his Long Island, New York estate. Tiffany’s studio made a number of these vases in varied colors with beautiful iridescent finishes, and these Favrile pieces are prized by collectors today. Although Tiffany is purported to have named the style, his studio was not the first to produce this type of vase. In fact, it is believed that the first vases in this style were made in England by Stevens and Williams around 1854, according to glass catalog references discovered by glass historian David M. Issitt. Other English glassmakers are also known to have produced Jack in the Pulpit style vases, as well as Czechoslovakian companies, long before Tiffany and other American glass companies made their own versions. Since then Jack in the Pulpit vases have remained popular, and have never entirely gone out of style. Well-known glassmakers producing versions of this fanciful vase are Steuben, Northwood, Loetz, Moser, and Fenton among many others. It’s interesting to note that Fenton originally called their version of this vase “Tulip” and later “Jack in the Pulpit” in its catalogs, according to research done by Issitt. Jack in the Pulpit vases has been made of all types of both opaque and clear colored glass including cranberry, milk glass, peachblow, and uranium glass. Some pieces were decorated with applied glass chains, ropes or ribbons after initially being blown. One of the best aspects of collecting this type of vase is the variety available in all price ranges. While Tiffany's Favrile examples are among the most expensive and out of reach for most shoppers, other antique examples are far more affordable, especially if they aren’t readily associated with a well-known glasshouse such as unmarked examples. The price difference for older pieces can range from several hundred to thousands of dollars. Newer versions of these vases are still being produced as well, and can many times offer the same styling for far less than an antique example." The plant Arisaema triphyllum, in Dutch 'cobralelie' has its origin in the eastern part of the US. The inflorescence consists of a flowering flask and a fleshy ear (the spadix). The basic color is green but the flowers of Arisaema triphyllum sometimes also have dark vertical stripes or spots. Flies are drawn to the flower during flowering. After flowering, small 1 cm large berries appear that are initially green but turn red. Arisaema triphyllum withdrew into the soil in the winter. A striking feature of Arisaema triphyllum is that most of the flowers on the spadix are initially male, but as the plants grow older, more female flowers develop. Yet Arisaema triphyllum cannot fertilize itself. Jack in the Pulpit vases are mostly made from fine glass art but there also exist pieces of pottery and metal which reflect the immense attraction to the voluminous natural inspired lines. Enjoy our beautiful glass & ceramic collection. In case you like to get one piece, let us know!
2020 becomes a great year. Full of style and fresh impressions, lovely patterns and colourful effects. Villa Zonheuvel will surprise you again: don't forget to register for our newsletter or our first living room concert or dining. We are glad to meet you, talk, listen, discuss or just enjoy the VZ lifestyle.
Preparing, connecting, inviting...
We are planning some events for autum and winter. Some music, some dinners, some surprises. We always have too less time and too less hands for all the plans we make. So we do it step by step. We got some fantastic new cabinets, tables and georgious assecoires which you can find in our etalage. The atelier is filled with beautiful projects to go. We need some extra space and are looking for an atelier with storage. We also need to start with a newsletter. In the meantime, enjoy our progress and the wonderful change of seasons. Having an old piece of furniture not knowing what to do with it often is our starting point. A couple of weeks ago we were called with the question if we could deal with old seatings. First we got some pictures, then we were invited to come along. We talked about matching items and styles, about colours and budgets. Finally we made our proposition in a luxury traditional regency style. This is what we came up with, now restoring and collecting all items to refurnish the living room: |
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