The bulk of the repair work involved building a new roof/cap for the kiln. The main material: a reddish clay-soil collected from near Shosanji Temple, Kamiyama.

Logs had already been stacked tightly into the main chamber of the kiln, their ends cut to form a rough dome shape. Straw mats cover the logs. Finally, we add clay-soil and compact it.

The process to compact the clay is laborious but beautiful. Working in a circle moving anticlockwise (everyone was right-handed), the group (of about six) batters the loose clay-soil initially from the side then from the top, forming a flat-topped dense block of smooth clay. It is vital that we pack the clay as tightly as possible but it is quite a tricky technique to get right. This is where working together as a group and moving around in a circular pattern works so perfectly. The more experienced members put right the work of the novice thus the completed dome has no weak points.

The finished dome is a lovely thing, a perfect sculpture. Smooth like fudge and dark like chocolate. Blisters, aching joints, repetitive strain injury – it doesn’t matter so much. Compared to this, when I make art it seems quite selfish. I find the aesthetics, the process, and the purpose of this project more engaging.  Although I don’t believe art should function in exactly the same way, after all, it’s important that art can exist for no reason and with no purpose, but an overlap between the two would be an interesting thing to consider.