Teapot artist shares secrets

So many artists in the past 10 years have used the teapot as a canvas for every sort of inventive interpretation. How and why this common household item has morphed into an art object has always intrigued me.

So when I learned a workshop on the teapot form with a premier potter named Fong Choo was offered at the Evanston (Ill.) Art Center, I could not sign up fast enough.

I knew that in 2003 Choo had participated in the 14th annual Teapot Show at Chiaroscuro Galleries, the annual show of artisan-made teapots, from funky to fabulous, organized by Joan Houlehan of A. Houberbocken Inc. in Milwaukee. I called Houlehan who told me Choo “was the stealth bomber of teapot artists. … Learn from the best and get the most out of it.” He is a force, both professionally and personally.

Choo is renowned internationally for his miniature teapots reminiscent of the Yixing style of Chinese pottery that dates to the 14th century — some scholars say even earlier. However, he makes the teapots very much his own with jewel-like glazes and exquisite, sensual shapes. Speaking of his interpretation of the mini-teapots and why he does them, he says, “So much presence in that scale. I use my skills to scale these pieces down.” Some are no bigger than a hen’s egg.

It sounds, even to me now, presumptuous to try my hand at it. But I was curious as to how an artful teapot is made. Or even an ordinary one.

That is how at the crack of dawn one Saturday I headed for the workshop, held in the basement of the art center, housed in a vintage mansion on the north shore of Lake Michigan.

Dressed in bib overalls, Choo, a trim high-energy man, began the session by sitting with us around a large worktable and telling us about his background.

He is of Chinese descent, born in Singapore. He was an aircraft mechanic for six years before he came to the United States in 1983 to study business. As an antidote to his boredom with business classes, he took a pottery class. The moment his fingers met clay, he was hooked.

Today Choo is adjunct professor and artist in residence at Bellarmine University in Louisville. Among the many workshops he gives are those at Penland School of Crafts in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina and at Terra Incognito Studios & Gallery in Oak Park, Ill. He has participated in the American Craft Exposition in Evanston and the Smithsonian Craft Show, the nation’s most prestigious juried exhibit and sale of contemporary American craft.

I was among 10 other workshop participants, all potters. Although I have no credentials as a potter, other than that I ran with the art crowd in college and often hung out in the ceramic studios where I tried throwing pots.

I told Choo I had not touched clay in decades. In his high-energy way, he promised me he “would get me there.” But he added that making an actual teapot might be too much of a challenge for me.

“I teach (my students) the whole philosophy of detachment, especially in clay,” Choo warned. “If you are not used to losing, you are in for a ‘fun time,’ ” he said sardonically. “For every teapot I show, I lose 80 percent (of those I make). I shoot them at my farm. Out of pure respect for the piece. I’m used to losing hundreds of teapots.

“Every firing is like Christmas,” Choo said, when his pots survive the rigors of the kiln.

(this article was taken from pe.com)