Masao Kozumi “Dining Table”

“Early summer rains—
Two houses stand
Before the great river” — Buson

This celebrated haiku captures two houses pressed close to the riverbank, their presence fragile as the waters swell and rush past. In my own indulgent imagining, a pale, hazy light glimmers within, rain falls unceasingly outside, and a modest yet harmonious dining table comes into view. I find myself wondering: Is there one person seated there, or perhaps two? What dishes are before them, and in what vessels are they served? Perhaps nothing more than plain, everyday tableware—perhaps the thought of such things never even arose.

Through this mist of images, I began making vessels for the table—cups, bowls, sake cups—and among them, one “deep bowl.” A dear friend I greatly admire told me that in Korea, such a form is called a sabal*. Like a faint light seen far off through fog, it holds an openness, a breadth, a generosity of spirit. And perhaps, I think, it was just such an ordinary, unassuming bowl—like the sabal—that once stood quietly on someone’s table. The idea of “ordinary tableware” remains, for me, a path without end. Yet I go on making, reflecting always on what it means for a vessel to be there, quietly accompanying the everyday dining table.

― Masao Kozumi

*A moderately deep bowl, commonly used in daily life in Korea.