Journal of Korean Studies

Unlike other media of Korean visual culture, whole eras of which have sunk into obscurity due to the loss of material, ceramics allow for a fairly comprehensive survey from prehistoric times to the present. Yet, even within this continuous [End Page 222] development, punch’ŏng (buncheong) wares are unique, not only because they form a truly original Korean tradition but because, despite their short span of production on the peninsula, they appear to be inexhaustibly creative.¹ Moreover, successive generations of potters in Korea, Japan, and beyond drew inspiration from punch’ŏng. Whereas other media are historically only represented by those products of artistic creativity that were singled out by the cultural elite and by collection practices of later centuries, punch’ŏng offers a glimpse at early Chosŏn visual culture across social borders. Only so-called folk painting (minhwa) of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries gives us similar insights, and maybe this is why we find some striking resemblances between punch’ŏng decoration of the sixteenth century and, much later, minhwa.

In contrast to earlier publications on Korean ceramics, this catalog does not solely focus on the development of styles and techniques, although these aspects are by no means neglected, but emphasizes the unique characteristics of punch’ŏng ware and contextualizes its evolution on the basis of historical records and evidence from kiln excavations. While giving a general outline, the authors have also singled out a few ceramics for closer observation, thereby inspiring the reader to explore the visual quality of the selected pieces. Moreover, their elegant language matches the aesthetic appeal of the objects as do the excellent illustrations. The catalog includes maps of kiln sites and an appendix with a checklist, as well as paintings by Lee Jong-Sang (Yi Chongsang), Kim Hwan-Ki (Kim Hwan’gi), and Lee Ufan (Yi Uhwan), which enhance the understanding of the modern appeal of punch’ŏng. The catalog also includes, for the first time, a discussion of what might be called the “history of punch’ŏng inspiration” in Japan and the rediscovery of punch’ŏng by contemporary ceramic artists in South Korea. Thus, in contrast to former approaches that emphasized the disappearance of punch’ŏng on the Korean peninsula as a result of the Imjin Wars of 1592–98, also known as the Hideyoshi Invasions and often called the “pottery wars,” this book traces the cross-cultural inspiration between the Korean peninsula and the Japanese archipelago.

In his essay “Buncheong: Unconventional Beauty,” Seung-chang Jeon (Chŏn Sŭngch’ang) sets out to describe punch’ŏng ware by its opposite poles: some ceramics embody the sophisticated tastes of the Chosŏn court and cultural elite, others are representative of the wit and candor of the common people. The term punch’ŏng was coined by early twentieth-century art historian Ko Yusŏp, a shortened version of punjang haech’ŏng sagi (stoneware with white slip on gray-green clay), at a time when Japanese connoisseurs, collectors, and critics had already defined several categories describing the wares they admired. Its close relationship with Koryŏ celadon in design and shape during its beginnings is not only a result of the use of the same clay, glaze, and decoration techniques, but also of a continuation of production at the same kilns, while the change of color (from greenish hues to gray) is due to different circumstances of firing. [End Page 223]

One might also think of it, however, as a reaction to a change of aesthetics, marked by the Confucian takeover at the beginning of the Chosŏn Dynasty and the introduction of an ideology that favored the frugal and pure over the luxurious and flamboyant. Economic circumstances also had an impact, since ceramics were used as substitutes for precious metal ware, such as bronze vessels, for ancestor worship. Hence, a close resemblance in shapes can be found between the different media. One might add that inspiration across media is, in fact, a characteristic of Korean ceramics from Silla times onward, and that the invention of the famous inlay technique of Koryŏ celadon is credited to such cross-inspiration. The emphasis on Confucian ceremonies in the emerging Chosŏn Dynasty led to an increase in demand for ritual ware, and a comparison between an illustration from the Sejong sillok of an elephant-shaped bronze with its counterpart in punch’ŏng is most revealing in that respect (p. 9).

During the early phase, private local kilns produced punch’ŏng and ceramics were levied as tribute from the provinces and used by the court. A large number of these tribute wares have the names of government agencies incised or inlaid in order to prevent theft. These inscriptions allow us to understand who was in charge of the storage and use of the ceramics. In a continuation of Koryŏ practice, government supervisors were dispatched to local kilns. Such close involvement and patronage by the court led to the high technical quality of stamped and inlaid ceramics from the 1430s through the 1460s. Entries in the Sillok also sometimes reveal the function of ceramics, as in the case of the production of flower vases in 1411 (cat. 10, p. 17).

A dramatic change occurred after the founding of official punwŏn kilns around 1466 in the neighborhood of the capital (in present-day Kwangju, Kyŏnggi Province) where porcelain decorated by court painters was produced. Their involvement resulted in exquisite porcelain decoration; however, their employment at the kilns, one might argue, is also an indication of their low social standing. The rise of porcelain production had a severe impact on punch’ŏng in terms of decoration, distribution, and consumption. Without government supervision, tribute levies, and bronze restrictions, demand for punch’ŏng decreased. Kilns thus had to attract a new clientele within their region and concentrate on the production of everyday items. Meanwhile, although the use of porcelain was restricted to the court, late fifteenth-century political stability and prosperity resulted in lavish spending by a wide spectrum of society and even led to the smuggling of Ming porcelain by commoners in the 1470s. Facing the increasing demand for porcelain, punch’ŏng producers invented new and more time-efficient decoration techniques and designs, thereby freeing themselves entirely from the Koryŏ heritage. Incised, carved, and sgraffito designs became popular; slip was generously applied by brush, or ceramics were entirely dipped into white slip and adorned with free, iron-brown painted images and ornaments. The results were irregular, playful, and energetic, both in shape and décor. [End Page 224]

The high regard for porcelain had yet another effect on punch’ŏng, as the brushed-on or slip-dipped stoneware of the sixteenth century sought to imitate it. Punch’ŏng kilns were concentrated in the central and southern parts of the peninsula (Jeon provides a list on p. 27) mainly because of the quality of the soil and abundant resources of wood used to fuel kilns. While Japanese ceramic aficionados had already begun research on kiln sites during the colonial period, major excavations of kilns conducted by South Korean museums and universities began in the 1990s, resulting in a better understanding of the sequences of production and of local characteristics. Following a description of ceramics from different regions, Jeon explains the size and structure of kilns and basic methods of production. He also notes that everyday items from the Chinhae region east of Pusan were considered coarse in Korea but highly regarded for their natural beauty in Japan.

Jeon and Lee further explore the sources of the formal characteristics of punch’ŏng in a co-authored essay on “Decoding Design.” Excavations reveal that the production of punch’ŏng was well organized. Apart from factory-style, well-managed enterprises employing skilled potters, small local kilns also existed throughout the country, producing both everyday items and ritual ware. While some shapes can be traced to the Koryŏ Dynasty, others, such as drum-shaped and flattened bottles, are entirely new. The authors’ comparison of punch’ŏng ware with celadon and porcelain reveal, for instance, how the standard motif of an elegant crane on celadon contrasts with the comical depictions of birds on punch’ŏng (pp. 72–74), or how in the case of the daisy-like wild chrysanthemums the increase of stamped design leads to abstraction (pp. 75–77). The essay closes with a section on “conceptual design and expressionist manner,” thus borrowing terminology from modern art to examine what the authors call “ambiguous” designs. They thereby stress the modern appeal of punch’ŏng ware, but also show that it would be almost impossible to grasp its special quality without modern aesthetics and their terminology.

Soyoung Lee’s essay “Beyond the Original: Buncheong Idioms in Japan, 1500–1900, and Contemporary Revivals” is the first comprehensive discussion in English of the important role punch’ŏng played in the history of Japanese ceramics and as inspiration for modern and contemporary artists. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, punch’ŏng developed in Japan side-by-side the production in its country of origin. Official relations had been established in 1404 and commerce and cultural relations grew throughout the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, with the Sō clan of Tsushima, then the most important player in the exchange between Korea and Japan, being in charge of trade and production of ceramics at the waegwan, the “Japan House” near Pusan. The most important drive behind the Japanese longing for punch’ŏng was undoubtedly a new conceptual approach to the tea ceremony (chanoyu), introduced by Hideyoshi’s tea master, Sen no Rikyū, who found beauty in the simple, imperfect, and natural. Rikyū thus initiated a change in the choice of tea ware, from polished Song ceramics to contemporaneous, mostly non-Chinese ware that also included ceramics from [End Page 225] other parts of Asia. Punch’ŏng thus became part of the “internationalization” of Japanese tea culture.

The first mention of a Korean tea bowl in Japanese tea records occurred in 1537. Interestingly, a bowl with the name of a government bureau inscribed also reached Japan, and the change of its function and meaning is most symptomatic: initially a tributary product for the Chosŏn court and employed as ordinary table-ware, it was used for the tea ceremony and through this became an art object in the shogunal collection (it now belongs to the Tokugawa Museum in Nagoya, p. 101). In the second half of the sixteenth century, tea bowls were already produced as export ware for the Japanese market. Though they were of a familiar, yet from the Korean point of view, already outdated, inlaid and stamped design, they were of a different shape. At the turn of the seventeenth century, tea master Furuta Oribe initiated a new fashion of tea ware with eccentric shapes and colorful designs that also changed the taste of imports, then (between 1639–1718) made at the waegwan near Pusan and supervised by Japanese chanoyu experts.

As is well known, during the Imjin Wars the daimyō, who had joined Hideyoshi in his attempt to conquer the continent, abducted potters from Chosŏn and had them build new kilns and enhance ceramic technology in their domains. Lee gives a list of the different kinds of wares produced in major regions on Kyūshū and in Hagi, an area of Honshū close to the Korean peninsula (p. 105). In spite of the physical transfer of punch’ŏng potters, the development in Japan was by no means continuous or just a transplant from Korea to Japan. Rather, the different origins of the Korean punch’ŏng potters and local Japanese traditions and aesthetic approaches led to a wide range of techniques and styles. Moreover, revivals occurred in different parts of the archipelago at different times, starting in Hizen (now Saga Prefecture) with Karatsu ware. Lee singles out three stoneware producing regions, concentrating on examples from the collection of the Metropolitan Museum.

Takeo Karatsu started in the 1580s and thanks to Rikyū’s impact on tea ceremony aesthetics, acquired fame during the Momoyama period. Although undoubtedly inspired by punch’ŏng, it cannot be regarded as a direct “descendant” since it is often not slip decorated but iron painted. In the 1610s, kilns in the Takeo region began to produce white slip-decorated, inlaid, stamped stoneware, which echoed much earlier Korean wares. As an example of the kilns’ production under the influence of the new fashion initiated by Furuta Oribe, Lee introduces a bottle with a pine tree painted in brown and green over white slip (cat. 60). Kilns in Utsutsugawa (now Nagasaki Prefecture) were founded in 1691, one hundred years after the Imjin War. Although the white slip decoration of their wares can be traced to punch’ŏng inspiration, the dark and thin body and fine transparent design has its own, very different appeal (cat. 61). Yasuhiro wares were produced in Higo Province (today’s Kumamoto Prefecture) from around 1632 under the direction of head potter Sonkai who had been brought from Korea. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, production of inlay ceramics flourished there, an example of a late-Tokugawa period revival (cat. 63, 64). In addition, some of [End Page 226] the punch’ŏng-inspired techniques also spread to kilns that had no direct contact with Korean potters, a trend illustrated by examples from the Kyoto region.

In the twentieth century, as is well known, Yanagi Sōetsu, together with other admirers of Korean ceramics, initiated the folk art (mingei) movement and began an investigation of kilns on the Korean peninsula. In addition, the descendants of Korean potters who had been brought to Japan in the late sixteenth century gained attention. But again, some modern artists who were inspired by punch’ŏng techniques and designs were not directly connected to these movements, as Lee demonstrates by introducing Kondō Yutake (1932–83), who used white-stamped patterns, and Tsujimura Shirō (b. 1947), who creates ceramics covered with white slip. Punch’ŏng techniques have thus been firmly established as part of the repertoire of modern ceramic artists. In Korea, where the ware had gone out of fashion in the seventeenth century, punch’ŏng was revived due to its appreciation in Japan, an appreciation which, according to Lee, had never faded but been kept alive by collectors and cultural critics. She introduces, as major contemporary South Korean ceramic artists, Yoon Kwang-cho (Yun Kwangjo, b. 1946) and Lee Hunchung (Yi Hunch’ung, b. 1967) who again give punch’ŏng ware a most contemporary and personal touch.

This catalog, in its wide range of perspectives on punch’ŏng ceramics, its comprehensive examination of Chosŏn traditions, and its tracing of inspirations across social, geographical, and temporal boundaries, firmly places this unique ceramic genre of Korean origin into a global context. It is undoubtedly a most welcome addition to English literature on Korean art and on the history of ceramics in general.