In the sixties, while trimming the top of one of her closed forms, Toshiko
Takaezu accidentally dropped a piece of clay into the interior. She
could not retrieve it. After the pot was fired, she discovered that this
errant bit of clay added the dimension of sound to her vessel. She
liked this and was inspired to wrap small wads of clay in paper and
purposely enclose them within the inner space of her works, thus making
sound an important part of each piece.
She
is also rumored to have left poems inside her enclosed forms, poems
that cannot be read until the pot is broken. It almost doesn’t matter if
she actually did this or not, the notion of it, the mystery, intrigues.
-text via the BiblioPotter
