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.

Leaves as paintings

A decade ago, on a bleak and dreary autumn day, Lin strolled along a path strewn with fallen leaves, contemplating the fleeting nature of worldly affairs. The golden-hued leaves gracefully fluttered down in the breeze, pirouetting through the air like tiny dancers, eventually landing on the earth.

At that moment, filled with a poignant sense of transience, Lin remembered a Konoha Tenmoku tea bowl she had seen in a museum and reflected on that solitary golden leaf, once delicately swaying in the breeze, that had found its eternal abode within the tea bowl.

In that pivotal moment, Lin’s desire to create Konoha Tenmoku emerged. For over 10 years, she dedicated herself to a quest for these techniques, apprenticing under masters and working tirelessly like an alchemist. The artist diligently adjusted the proportions of natural minerals in her glaze recipe and sent her leaf creations into the kiln repeatedly, carefully recording the results of each firing. Liu persisted until she finally captured the serene and fortuitous Zen beauty that defines Konoha Tenmoku.

Along the way, she discovered that not all leaves were suitable for this technique. Only the weathered and resilient old leaves that withstood hardships in nature could endure the 1,200 degrees Celsius firing needed to transform them into breathtaking masterpieces—a metamorphosis that transcended their lifespan.

Firing a leaf onto Tenmoku is in itself no easy feat, and this challenge is further compounded by the intricate reconstruction and arrangement of leaves of various sizes the artist needs to undertake before firing. Exposed to such high temperatures, the reconstructed leaves are likely to twist and become deformed by high-temperature compression.

These difficulties explain why only a few artisans dare to explore Konoha Tenmoku. Each successful creation is the extraordinary outcome of the artist’s unwavering dedication, a masterpiece achieved in a collaboration between nature and craftsmanship.

“Each of my creations is unique because the designs vary due to the distinctiveness of every leaf. Replicating a similar-looking piece with the same thematic essence becomes nearly impossible,” Lin says.

Azure transcendence

There is yet another facet to Lin’s innovative art. Throughout Chinese history, the elegant and noble colour blue held a special place in the hearts of literati and royalty, whether it was the dark cobalt blue of Ming Dynasty Xuande-era porcelain or the celadon sky-blue of the Song Dynasty’s coveted Ru ware.

Lin carries on a love for the colour blue, driven by a desire to capture a unique shade that represents boundless compassion. She introduces us to the ancient Chinese term, youlan beishui, in which youlan signifies the blue that extends from the depths of the sea to its surface, while beishui translates as “compassionate waters.” The term youlan beishui symbolizes the compassion of the Buddha as it emerges from the depths of His heart to the surface.

In response to Lin’s yearning to produce this colour, an unexpected opportunity arose. While opening a wood-firing kiln one day, she unexpectedly discovered a trace of blue among a collection of black-glazed wares. The ashes from the firewood had fallen upon the raw pottery, causing a reaction with the glaze under high temperatures.

This unexpected blue appeared dark and mysterious against the black glaze, evoking the feeling of diving into the profound silence of the ocean’s depths. The fortuitous encounter sparked Lin’s inspiration, allowing her to capture the shade of blue she envisioned—the blue symbolizing the profound compassion of the divine.

Given the uniqueness and unpredictability of wood firing, reproducing the exact results became highly challenging. Lin embarked on a quest to seek a breakthrough, starting from the traditional recipe for Craig blue glaze. Through thousands of trial and error attempts, she finally achieved the glossy and deep blue glaze that resembled the grand sea, thus marking the birth of her Sapphire Tenmoku series.

Lin also experimented extensively with the leaves to ensure that they harmonized with the blue sapphire shade. Eventually, the golden leaf in the Tenmoku glaze took on a silvery-white hue, evoking the image of a mythical sea maiden floating gracefully amid the deep blue waves.

Ultimately, Lin’s creations lead us to reflect on the eternal quest to find the intersection between human and divine, of natural and man-made creations. It’s a quest that requires purity of heart—for it is only when the artist arrives at this intersection that such magnificent creations are possible.