From aspiring lawyer to automatic washing machine salesman to master potter, life has been an interesting but rocky road for Shigaraki ceramist Shiho Kanzaki.

Shiho Kanzaki shapes a pot with his hands as he turns and controls the wheel with his toes

The road is smoother now than the time when he was disowned by his father for choosing the potter's wheel over a lawyer's robe, or when he was swindled out of some pots and money at an early stage in his career.

It was his faith and passion for Azuchi-Momoyama Period Shigaraki and Iga pottery that held his heart steadfast through the bumpy times and he has succeeded in creating some stunning works that have earned him a loyal following around the world.

Kanzaki is showing his pottery in Okayama City at Tenmaya department store's fifth floor gallery until Oct. 30.

Kanzaki has a way of putting that stormy period of his life into perspective, though in a very humble way.

"The truth is," he said in an interview with American potter Dick Lehman, "that because of those encounters I am what I am now. The tree that overcomes severe weather reveals its true beauty. It is the same for people."

Kanzaki has focused on the lessons that he learned and come out of that period without bitterness or self-pity. We all are the better for it: His pots are like jewels thrown down from the heavens.

Shigaraki water jar by Shiho Kanzaki with natural ash glaze

In the past I held a Kanzaki piece in my hand and considered it as valuable as a diamond. Both sparkle and delight the senses, and each is one of a kind.

Kanzaki fires his half-underground anagama kiln for between 10-15 days, which is quite long for Shigaraki. All the pots are placed into the kiln unglazed and come out with a natural glaze (shizen-yu) from the flying ashes. The prolonged firing allows for a slow build-up of ash and melted surfaces into undesigned patterns known as keshiki (landscapes).

"The deep blue reminding us of the sea and green just like that of aged moss," he wrote in a book on his work. Kanzaki's shizen-yu runs the gamut of landscapes from the pleasing natural associations described above to primordial burnt surfaces associated with the birth of the earth. One large tsubo in the current exhibition has a landscape that looks like a satellite photo of Earth.

Other than large tsubo his work consists mainly of chadogu or tea ceremony utensils. Kanzaki is careful not to place his chawan in a part of the kiln where they will collect too much ash on their bodies; that would render them useless. Nobody wants to drink tea from a crusty-lipped vessel.

Instead we find smooth chawan with shizen-yu cascading down the front. Some have the deep browns and purples of desert twilight.

Crustiness does work on the larger forms, though, particularly hanaire (vases) and large platters. A platter with a diagonal patch of shizen-yu on the upper portion has an almost grotesque-looking area of burnt coals on the lower part. The piece demands attention, yet I wonder how food would look on a platter that seems to have been fired on a battlefield.

Iga flower vase by Shiho Kanzaki, natural ash glaze

One long, slender Iga shizen-yu hanaire has the stature of a graceful actress. In shocking contrast, the bottom has a blackened area that looks like it was just blasted out of a volcano. A bronze-colored shizen-yu side complements and balances the proportions and colors.

Kanzaki has a generous spirit. He doesn't shroud his technique or philosophy in secrecy; in fact he wants to share it with the world. He has been featured on the covers of Ceramics Art and Perception (No. 32, 1998) and Ceramics Monthly (summer 1997).

He also has a very attractive Web site that features his own work, old Shigaraki and Tanba pieces and works by his teacher Suketoshi Matsuyama. Also featured is the pottery of a few international potters such as Jeff Shapiro and Dick Lehman, the author of the magazine articles and a respected potter in his own right. The site is at www.the-anagama.com Kanzaki is blazing new trails in Shigaraki and across the globe with his insights into anagama-fired Shigaraki and Iga and his savvy with the computer world.

In Tokyo at the Craft Gallery of the National Museum of Modern Art is an intriguing exhibition titled "Utsuwa -- Thoughts on Contemporary Vessels." Utsuwa is a general term used in the pottery world pertaining mostly to items used at the table; it usually excludes chadogu. In this paper last weekend Linda Inoki wrote a very thoughtful article about this exhibition and I'd like to add a few comments about the ceramic side.

Yo no bi ("beauty through use") is a term that is often heard in the Japanese utsuwa world. A platter comes alive when food is placed within its boundaries. The beauty of a white Shino yunomi is most clearly seen when filled with emerald-green tea.

Many of the pieces in this exhibition fit the spirit of yo no bi. Although they stand alone as wonderful examples of ceramic art, they won't answer the yo no bi call until touched by a user's hand and spirit.

Take, for instance, Kyoto-based porcelain specialist Tozan Miyanaga's set of five ink-spray decoration and underglaze blue plates. They have a lovely color and simple form, but lie flat, begging to be used. Imagine some sashimi artfully arranged on them: yo no bi.

Bowls in clamshell design by Takashi Nakazato, Karatsu Nanban ware, c. 1980

The same holds true for Karatsu veteran Takashi Nakazato's work. A set of solemn, unglazed Karatsu Nanban dishes look lonely and need some culinary treat to liven them up.

Some of the pieces are more on the outer edge of the yo no bi definition and do stand out. Kazuo Takiguchi's colorful tortoiseshell-patterned tiered boxes are a good example, but even though they are dancing with color, imagine the delight of lifting a lid and discovering some tasty tidbit waiting inside.

The same can be said for Takuo Nakamura's work; he refers to it as kirei sabi ("an elegant, colorful loneliness"). Nakamura works with dark-brown clay and inlays it with Rinpa-inspired enamel designs that reflect the cultural surroundings of his hometown in Kanazawa.

Some other potters' work can get a bit garish though. Gen Kozuru was born into an ancient potting family in Kyushu that produced Agano wares. Early in his career he produced some fine Agano pieces and was a master of glazes.

Then he moved to the United States, and I'm sorry to say the influence hasn't been positive. Moving more into a pop-funk art realm, his work, especially the boxes on display, look more like roadside markers than utilitarian pieces. His sake cups, with their exaggerated drinking lips, might make a good dribble glass to act as a practical joke at your next party.

Kozuru is the exception here, and I'm sure that after viewing the relaxed table settings of Keiji Ito or the sleek perfection of Tobe potter Shoji Kudo's white porcelain utsuwa, you'll go home to find just how much pleasure a simple utsuwa can bring to the table.

Interesting to note that out of the 38 artists in the exhibition, which also includes such media as metal, glass and lacquer, 20 are ceramic artists.