Highlights: Kyoto Ceramic Lineage: Work by Mashimizu Zōroku, a distinguished name in Kyoto pottery, rooted in centuries of ceramic tradition and known for refined tea-ceremony wares. Dramatic Crackle Glaze & Wabi-Sabi Form: Luminous white crackle glaze (kannyu) cascades over an intentionally asymmetric form; the rim's organic irregularity and the fiery iron-red base embody wabi-sabi principles of beauty in imperfection. Complete with Signed Tomobako: Housed in its original artist-inscribed wooden box, guaranteeing authenticity and provenance – essential for serious collectors of Japanese studio ceramics. Summary: This guinomi by Mashimizu Zōroku is a study in controlled spontaneity, where technical mastery meets poetic restraint. The form is gently irregular, its walls undulating subtly, the rim shaped with deliberate asymmetry that mimics natural erosion rather than mechanical precision. Over this organic silhouette flows a luminous white crackle glaze – kannyu – its surface shattered into a delicate web of lines that catch the light and deepen with age as tea or sake stains the fissures. Where the glaze thins at the rim, the underlying clay glows warm; where it pools in the valleys, the white intensifies to near-opacity. The footring and base are left largely unglazed, revealing the clay's natural iron-red hue – a fiery terracotta that flares like embers against the cool white above. This interplay of warmth and coolness, roughness and smoothness, perfection and imperfection, lies at the heart of Japanese wabi-sabi aesthetics, and Mashimizu handles it with rare sensitivity. Accompanied by its signed tomobako (wooden storage box), this guinomi offers collectors both functional beauty and documented provenance, a tangible connection to Kyoto's storied ceramic heritage. There is a kind of quiet drama in this guinomi that only reveals itself slowly: at first glance, it is simply a white cup with a crackled surface, modest in scale, humble in demeanour. But hold it, turn it in your hands, watch how the light plays across the glaze's fractured surface, and something deeper emerges – a sense that this object has been shaped not merely by human hands, but by fire, time, and chance. The form itself seems almost accidental: the walls swell and contract irregularly, the rim dips and rises as if worn by centuries of use (though in truth, this is the potter's deliberate shaping). Where the glaze meets the unglazed base, a dramatic transition occurs – the cool, moon-pale white gives way abruptly to a fierce iron-red, the colour of autumn leaves, of fired brick, of earth kissed by flame. This is wabi-sabi made tangible: beauty not in spite of irregularity, but because of it. Mashimizu Zōroku is a name deeply embedded in Kyoto's ceramic history. The Mashimizu lineage traces its origins to the Edo period, when Kyoto's kilns supplied tea masters, nobles, and discerning collectors with wares that balanced courtly refinement and rustic simplicity. Successive generations of Mashimizu potters have carried forward this dual heritage, producing both delicate porcelains and robust stonewares, both polished perfection and calculated roughness. The name "Zōroku" (藏六) has been passed down through the family line, each generation adding its own inflection to the tradition while honouring the aesthetic principles established by predecessors. Works bearing the Mashimizu seal are prized by tea practitioners and collectors of Japanese studio ceramics, recognized for their technical excellence, quiet restraint, and deep engagement with chanoyu (tea ceremony) philosophy. This guinomi exemplifies the lineage's mature style: a vessel shaped by hand, not mechanically thrown but coaxed into being through subtle pressure and deliberate hesitation. The clay body is a warm, iron-rich stoneware – likely sourced locally from Kyoto's surrounding hills – fired to a temperature that brings out its natural red-orange hue. Over this, a feldspathic white glaze has been applied, then subjected to high heat and rapid cooling, causing the glaze to contract and fracture into the distinctive kannyu (crackle) pattern. This is not accidental; crackle glazes have been cultivated in China and Japan for over a millennium, prized for their visual interest and their tendency to "mature" over time as liquids seep into the cracks, staining them amber, brown, or grey, creating a secondary patina that records the cup's history of use. Crackle glazes hold a special place in Japanese ceramic aesthetics, particularly in tea ceremony contexts. The cracks are called kannyu (貫入), literally "penetrating threads," and they are understood as evidence of the glaze's vitality, its responsiveness to temperature, moisture, and time. A newly made crackle-glazed vessel is pristine, its white surface clean and bright; but after years of use – filled with tea or sake, handled, washed, left to rest – the cracks darken, creating a map of the object's life. This gradual transformation is celebrated rather than mourned; it aligns with the Buddhist principle of mujō (impermanence) and the tea aesthetic of sabi (the beauty of age and patina). For collectors, a well-used crackle-glazed cup can be more desirable than a pristine one, its stained cracks testifying to decades of appreciation. The form of this guinomi is as significant as its glaze. It is not symmetrical; the walls are not uniform in thickness; the rim is not a perfect circle. These are not flaws but deliberate choices, reflecting the potter's rejection of mechanical perfection in favour of organic vitality. One section of the rim appears almost chipped, yet the glaze flows smoothly over it, confirming that this irregularity was formed during shaping, not broken afterwards. Such features are hallmarks of the wabi aesthetic – the preference for rough over smooth, irregular over regular, humble over ostentatious. The great tea master Sen no Rikyū (1522–1591) elevated this aesthetic to its zenith, favouring Korean peasant bowls and Japanese Raku wares over Chinese perfection, and his influence permeates Japanese ceramic tradition to this day. A Mashimizu guinomi, with its crackled surface and asymmetric form, stands firmly in this lineage. The footring and base of the cup are left unglazed, revealing the raw clay body in all its fiery intensity. This warm terracotta hue – the result of iron oxide in the clay reacting with oxygen during firing – provides a stunning counterpoint to the cool white glaze above. The contrast is not harsh but complementary, like snow on a mountainside above sun-warmed earth. This technique of leaving the foot unglazed is common in Japanese ceramics, where it is valued for both practical and aesthetic reasons: practically, it prevents the cup from sticking to the kiln shelf during firing; aesthetically, it offers a glimpse of the clay's "true nature," unmediated by glaze. The Japanese term yakishime (焼締) refers to unglazed high-fired stoneware, and even on partially glazed pieces like this guinomi, the exposed clay connects the work to that ancient tradition. In a contemporary European interior, this guinomi functions as both a functional vessel and a sculptural accent. Its scale is intimate – small enough to cradle in one hand, substantial enough to feel grounded and present. Displayed on a minimalist shelf, it offers textural richness and quiet drama: the crackled white glaze catches the light, the iron-red base glows warmly, and the irregular form asserts its handmade authenticity in an age of mass production. Used for sake, it enhances the ritual of drinking – the crackled surface engaging the fingertips, the warmth of the liquor accentuating the clay's warmth, the irregular rim bringing the drinker's attention fully to the moment. For collectors of Japanese ceramics, wabi-sabi design, or simply lovers of craft and beauty, this Mashimizu guinomi represents the best of Kyoto's studio pottery: technically accomplished, aesthetically profound, and deeply rooted in centuries of tradition. The accompanying tomobako – the artist-signed wooden box – is an essential component of the work's value and authenticity. In Japan, a tomobako functions as both provenance document and protective housing; the calligraphy on the lid typically identifies the work, the artist, and sometimes the kiln or production date. The presence of an original, signed box is especially important for works by hereditary lineages like Mashimizu, where multiple generations have used the same name; the box inscription helps pinpoint which Zōroku created the piece, and in some cases provides additional context such as the occasion of its making or its intended use. For collectors and auction houses, a tomobako dramatically enhances a work's desirability and market value, as it offers assurance that the piece is authentic, carefully preserved, and culturally significant. This guinomi is in excellent condition. The glaze is intact, the crackle pattern is well-developed but not overly stained (suggesting careful use or display rather than decades of heavy handling), and there are no chips, cracks, or repairs. The form is stable, the footring cleanly trimmed. This is a piece that has been treasured, and it is ready to be treasured again – whether by a serious collector of Japanese studio ceramics, a tea practitioner seeking an authentic Shipping & Handling We ship worldwide via DHL or EMS with full insurance and tracking. Professional packing ensures safe arrival; combined shipping available for multiple wins. Local customs duties are the buyer's responsibility. Seller Guarantee We specialise in authentic Japanese ceramics and guarantee this piece's authenticity. Questions welcome – we reply within 24 hours.