Reviving the Legend of Konoha Tenmoku

“A leaf floats through the water, resembling the sky’s reflection in the bowl.”

— Zen master Baiyang Fashun

Over a thousand years ago in China’s Jizhou district of Jiangxi province, a fallen leaf accidentally landed on a Tenmoku bowl waiting to be placed into the kiln.

When it emerged from the kiln, the transformed pottery left everyone awestruck. Exposed to extreme temperatures surpassing 1,200 degrees Celsius, the leaf didn’t disintegrate but went through a surprising transformation, merging seamlessly with the glaze. Its veins turned golden, elegantly adorning the unsuspecting pitch-black tea bowl as if dancing in the night sky.

This surreal event occurred during the Northern Song Dynasty (960–1127 AD), a flourishing era of tea drinking and tea competitions known as doucha (tōcha in Japanese). The resulting Konoha Tenmoku tea bowls brought an iridescent metallic allure of black glaze, evoking a sense of the vast night sky and the boundless universe encapsulated within the vessels. These tea bowls became some of the most coveted teawares by the imperial family and scholars during the Song Dynasty.

Unfortunately, the craft experienced a decline during the Yuan Dynasty (1279–1368 AD) due to turbulent times of war and unrest, causing a hiatus of over seven centuries. It wasn’t until the late 1980s that potters from a Jizhou kiln in Jiangxi province—the birthplace of Konoha Tenmoku—revived its techniques.

However, incorporating organic leaves during firing presented daunting challenges for the potters, resulting in only a rare few, perhaps one out of a hundred, that achieved the highest quality and the desired Zen appearance of Konoha Tenmoku ware.

Today, only a few studios dedicate themselves to crafting the ware. When this art form reached Taiwan more than 10 years ago, visionary Joyce Lin emerged as one of the pioneering artists who dared to bring this centuries-old craft back to life.