5
Chapter 5. Haeoreum Pottery Studio
It was only natural that Han Eun-jeong was taken aback.
“You want to try the pottery wheel? I haven’t even taught you how to use it yet.”
“I feel like I can do it. I’ve seen it a lot in movies and dramas.”
“Yeah, that’s why everyone wants to try the pottery wheel. But you can’t just watch someone do it and expect to copy them without even knowing the basics. It’s much harder than you think. You can’t simply press the pedal. You have to control the rotation speed, use the right angle with your fingers, apply the proper amount of pressure, and...”
She hesitated.
“The wheel! The wheel! The wheel! The wheel! Hurry up!”
Meanwhile, the skull was going berserk.
What an impossible old geezer.
I shook my head at the skull bouncing excitedly in front of me, then spoke to Han Eun-jeong.
“I know it won’t be easy. But I’m in my third year of middle school, right? As you said, I’m already late when it comes to preparing my portfolio.”
“No, that was my mistake. You shouldn’t necessarily think of yourself as being too late...”
“So wouldn’t it be better for me to learn wheel throwing as soon as possible, even if it’s just a day earlier? That way, I can submit a better portfolio, can’t I?”
“Hmm...”
“Even if using the wheel is difficult, you’ll teach me properly, won’t you?”
As Somyeong said this with a bright smile, Han Eun-jeong thought to herself.
That’s not how a third-year middle school student talks. He’s completely convincing me.
He even knew how to finish his sentence by subtly complimenting her. He didn’t sound like a middle school student at all. It was as though there were an adult inside him.
He’s making such a good argument. I might as well let him try. Once he realizes how difficult it is, he’ll stop pestering me.
At last, Han Eun-jeong spoke.
“Fine. It would be difficult to use the wheel right now because it would disrupt the lesson, but I’ll teach you separately after class. Is that okay?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful! Wonderful! Let’s take a look at this modern pottery wheel!”
The old potter was even more excited than I was.
When the slab-building lesson ended, the other children hurried out of the workshop, each busy with their own plans. As a result, only the teacher, me, and the burning skull remained at Haeoreum Pottery Studio.
The teacher brought over some clay from the pug mill.
Thud!
The clay stuck to the pottery wheel with a satisfyingly sticky sound.
That sound... It’s been five years since I last heard it.
“Ah, the sound of clay! I haven’t heard it for hundreds of years. My heart is pounding!”
You don’t have a heart, do you? You’re nothing but a skull.
“It’s just an expression! Don’t ruin my emotional moment by nitpicking!”
Han Eun-jeong carefully prepared water to moisten the clay, a wooden knife, a cutting wire, a trimming knife, a sponge, and other tools on the worktable beside the wheel.
Now I was ready to try wheel throwing.
The teacher sat at the adjacent pottery wheel and demonstrated the process first.
“Let’s start with the most basic thing: a cup. Watch carefully while I show you.”
The old man asked what a cup was, so I explained that it was a large Western-style vessel with a broad size and straight, vertical sides.
The teacher began pressing the pedal.
“Now, when I press it like this, the wheel starts spinning. If I press down harder, it spins faster. If I press lightly, it spins more slowly...”
Whirrrrr.
As the motor hummed and the wheel began rotating, the potter exclaimed in amazement.
“Ohhh! With this, you don’t have to take your hands off the clay while working, unlike with a hand-powered wheel! And you don’t have to pedal like crazy with your feet, either, as you would with a foot-powered wheel!”
Please try to contain your excitement.
“How fascinating! Truly fascinating!”
“Once you’ve managed to center the clay, you can start shaping it. The most important finger is your thumb. Apply firm pressure with your thumb and press down like this...”
The upper center of the clay column gradually sank beneath Han Eun-jeong’s fingers, beginning to take on a U shape.
“Keep your hands moist so the clay doesn’t dry out...”
The simple lump gradually transformed into a shaped vessel. Just as a person receives a name and becomes someone meaningful, the lump of clay took on a purpose as it became a cup under Han Eun-jeong’s hands.
Whether it became a masterpiece or a failed piece depended entirely on the potter. At least on the wheel, a potter’s hands were omnipotent.
Like a creator, the teacher quickly shaped the clay into a cup. Then she placed a cutting wire against the bottom of the cup, separating it from the remaining clay.
“There. Once the piece you’ve cut off has dried properly, you fire it in a kiln once or twice, and it becomes pottery. So, do you think you can do it the way I did?”
“Yes. I’ll give it a try.”
Would my old skills come back?
It had been a full five years since I’d last used a pottery wheel. I was a little nervous.
“Are you worried, young man?”
The old geezer must have read my mind again.
“There’s no need to worry about whether you can do it. Didn’t I promise to pass on my abilities to you?”
I am curious about your skills, old man.
“In that case, let’s briefly assimilate before you start using the wheel.”
“Assimilate? What does that mean?”
“You and I will become one.”
“What?! Become one...?”
“It can’t be helped. This is the only way to pass on my skills!”
“Ah! Wait, old man! Hold on!”
The burning skull latched onto my face.
I couldn’t even begin to explain exactly how it worked. The skull—or, more accurately, the potter’s spirit—seeped into my body. It felt as though I were connecting with an unfamiliar being from another era, not only within my consciousness but also in an even deeper place inside me.
Huh?
The memories and sensations accumulated over the lifetime of a genius potter flowed into me, building up layer upon layer.
All within a very brief span of four or five seconds.
I indirectly experienced the old man’s entire lifetime of pottery-making experience, far more than what I had glimpsed when I touched the incense burner in Arita.
Suddenly, I felt as though I could use at least some of the potter’s skills myself.
At that point, complaining about the unpleasant feeling of becoming one with the skull was a luxury I couldn’t afford. If this was what assimilation felt like, I could do it over and over again. As long as I could draw out the full skill of a legendary potter.
“Did you feel it?”
Yes. I think I understand what you’re trying to pass on to me.
“That’s right. Be grateful to your master.”
Don’t you know that demanding gratitude yourself ruins the emotional impact?
The legendary potter paid no attention to my remark and continued.
“However, even if we’ve assimilated, you won’t be able to use all my skills perfectly from the beginning. For now, you might only be able to use about one-tenth of them.”
I suppose I’ll have to get used to these sensations first.
“That’s right. You catch on quickly.”
Thank you for passing on your abilities to me. Truly.
“Well, it benefits me, too. While we’re assimilated, I can feel the sensations you experience when handling pottery. So it isn’t completely free.”
...
I knew it. There was no way this old geezer would give me something without getting anything in return. Still, it was an excellent deal for me.
“Somyeong? Are you dozing off again? Do you have narcolepsy or something?”
“Oh, no. I was just thinking about something for a moment.”
What would Han Eun-jeong think if she found out what had just happened to me? Would she believe me if I told her that the spirit of a potter who knew how to make both Goryeo celadon and Joseon white porcelain had passed his skills on to me?
“Shall we begin? Do you want to wash your face first?”
“I’m fine without washing my face.”
“Then shall we turn on the wheel and give it a try?”
Following Han Eun-jeong’s instructions, I slowly turned on the wheel and gently pressed down with my foot to make it rotate. I already knew how to do this, but I followed the teacher’s instructions anyway.
The lump of clay on the wheel began spinning in place.
“That’s right, just like that. You’re doing pretty well. It shouldn’t be too fast or too slow, so maintain roughly this speed.”
The skull’s burning gaze fell upon the lump of clay before us. Because our senses had merged, I could feel the intensity of his stare. He looked at the clay as though it were prey he was about to hunt.
“To think that the day would come when I could touch the soil of Joseon again...!”
His tone was so serious that I hardly dared to make a joke.
I reached out toward the clay. I had been doing this for seven years, but my body was still underdeveloped, and this was my first time using a pottery wheel in five years. I needed to concentrate.
“You’ve got a pretty good posture.”
A faint glimmer of expectation appeared in Han Eun-jeong’s eyes. Perhaps she was thinking that I was doing well for a third-year middle school student.
You’re about to be surprised.
I grinned at the thought. The old man might be a legendary potter, but I was also someone who had been aspiring to become a potter for seven years. Shaping an ordinary cup on a pottery wheel should be no problem at all.
“All right. First, let’s center the clay.”
I wet my fingers to soften the clay, then held it with both hands and pulled it upward before pressing it back down.
This was the process of stabilizing the clay so it wouldn’t wobble while transforming it into a column. The width of this column would determine the width of the cup.
“From this point onward, my skills will guide your hands! Just follow me!”
I’ll learn from you, old man!
A tingling sensation, like an electric current, ran through me. The legendary potter’s senses and practiced experience began guiding my hands as they worked the clay. My anticipation soared.
Just how incredible would the old man’s skills prove to be?
Soon, something astonishing happened.
Wrrrraaaack!
“Huh? That’s not right.”
Old man...?
I stared blankly at the lump of clay on the wheel, now crumpled into a shape resembling a giant pile of animal droppings beneath my small hands.
I had failed to center it.
It was absurd. Between the two of us, we had seventy-seven years of pottery-making experience, yet we had failed at the very first step of wheel throwing.
Han Eun-jeong gave a small, amused laugh, letting go of the expectations she had briefly held for the middle school student before her.
“Honestly, I knew that would happen.”
“T-this can’t be right...”
“Somyeong, you thought using a pottery wheel would be much easier than it actually is.”
Confused, I asked the skull what had gone wrong.
What on earth happened? You told me to trust you and follow your lead!
“The wheel is spinning too fast!”
...What?
“I’ve never even used a wheel that spins this quickly!”
Then you’re getting in my way! What was the point of that assimilation thing?!
“Adjust the speed to that of a foot-powered wheel! I need more time to get used to the high-speed wheels of your era!”
How fast is that supposed to be? I’ve never used a foot-powered wheel!
“Slowly!”
That doesn’t tell me anything! How slowly?!
“Hmm. Try turning it and stop when it reaches the speed I tell you!”
Good grief...
At this rate, I wondered whether I might have better results if I simply relied on my own memories and tried using the wheel without his help. Still, I decided to trust the old man one more time. I turned to the teacher.
“Let me try one more time.”
“Really...? Wouldn’t it be better to wait a few more weeks before trying the wheel again?”
“No! Absolutely not! We can’t do that! Right now! We have to do it right now!”
The old man’s desperate shouting, driven by his reluctance to let go of Joseon clay after hundreds of years, was so loud that I felt as though my ears might start bleeding. I tried to persuade the teacher further.
“I was a little nervous because it was my first try, but I’m confident this time.”
“Then give it one more try.”
Han Eun-jeong chuckled as though she found me adorable, cleared away the mangled clay, and brought over a fresh lump.
Thud.
I had been given one more chance. If I failed again, there was no doubt that the teacher would forbid me from using the wheel for a while.
I stared intently at the clay on the wheel and carefully pressed the pedal at its lowest speed.
I’ll gradually increase the speed, so tell me when it reaches the right level!
Whirrrrr.
The wheel carrying the clay began to turn slowly. I gradually increased the pressure from the tips of my toes.
Soon, the old man shouted.
“That’s it! That’s the speed!”
Once the wheel’s speed was adjusted to match that of a foot-powered wheel, the old man’s skills naturally guided my hands.
!
It felt as though I had entered an entirely new world. Under the potter’s hands, the clay moved as if it were a living creature rather than an inanimate object.
“When turning a lump of clay into a column, your dominant hand must guide it toward the center. If you’re right-handed, use your right hand to lead. The left hand is there only to assist.”
The left hand is there only to assist...
His explanation reminded me of a certain basketball manga. The potter continued pouring knowledge into my mind, explaining each movement as we went along.
“When your right and left hands meet, it’s easier to apply force if the opening between them faces north-northeast, assuming the front is north. When lowering the column you’ve pulled upward, you only need to tilt the upper part of your hand and press down lightly like this.”
Ah...
I had been doing pottery for seven years, yet no one had ever taught me the process of pulling up a column in such meticulous detail.
“Let your hands learn this sensation. You need to understand how much force to apply to keep the clay centered without letting it lean to one side...”
Before I knew it, the lump of clay had taken on the shape of a sturdy column.
“Now it’s time to shape the cup. Decide how much of the clay column you want to use for the cup. Once you’ve decided, place your thumb on the top and gently press down in the center...”
Wherever my thumb pressed, the top of the round lump of clay sank inward, gradually transforming into the shape of a cup.
“Now, use these three fingers to smooth the inner surface...”
I pushed the three fingers other than my thumb and index finger farther into the hollow, carefully adjusting the shape and thickness of the sides.
“Feel the clay with your fingers and your palms!”
With one hand, I deepened the bottom of the cup. With the other, I supported the outside of the cup’s wall, preventing the increasingly thin clay from bursting outward.
It was flawless wheel throwing, making the five-year gap seem as though it had never existed.
Han Eun-jeong watched me work and finally spoke in astonishment.
“The wheel is a little slow, but... why are you suddenly so good at this?”
I focused solely on the clay.
The mad potter and I were so absorbed in working the clay that we forgot to answer. The only sounds filling Haeoreum Pottery Studio were the spinning of the wheel and the friction of my fingers against the clay.
...
At some point, even Han Eun-jeong fell silent, watching nothing but the movements of our hands—or rather, my hands.
My hands began to ache. My body was still that of a middle school student and hadn’t fully developed, so it couldn’t keep up with the old man’s guidance indefinitely.
Nevertheless, I maintained my concentration until I had shaped the vessel into its final form.
“Phew.”
Finally, I carefully refined the rim of the cup with my fingers and used a wooden knife to trim the foot at the bottom.
“Could you hand me the cutting wire, please, Teacher?”
“Huh? Oh, yes. Here.”
I took the wire that Han Eun-jeong handed me, still looking somewhat surprised, as naturally as a professional potter would. Holding the wooden handles in both hands, I smoothly guided the wire into the clay in time with the wheel’s rotation.
Swoosh.
With a soft slicing sound, the finished cup separated from the untouched clay beneath it.
“Done.”
“That’s it.”
Perhaps satisfied by the long-missed sensation of touching clay and feeling the pottery wheel spin, the old man uttered just one quiet sentence instead of his usual noisy exclamations.
“How is it, Teacher? Can I keep using the pottery wheel from now on?”
Han Eun-jeong nodded silently before finally managing to speak.
“What are you?”
“Pardon?”
“Are your parents potters, by any chance?”
“No, they aren’t.”
The teacher rubbed her forehead and spoke.
“N-no...? But you seemed so familiar with the wheel. I even got goosebumps.”
Han Eun-jeong showed me the goosebumps rising along her long arms.
“I’ve been told I have a good sense for this kind of thing.”
“Really...?”
“So, can I keep learning wheel throwing?”
“Of course I should let you. How about joining the adult class instead?”
“The adult class?”
“You’ll get far more wheel-throwing lessons there than in the middle school class.”
“Deal.”
Han Eun-jeong watched Kim Somyeong leave the studio, looking like an ordinary middle school student, with an expression as though she had just seen a ghost.
Then she turned her gaze toward the cup Kim Somyeong had just made on the pottery wheel.
“This makes no sense.”
A student who had only just enrolled at the studio, especially a middle school student, should not have been capable of producing something like this on their very first attempt at wheel throwing.
The cup had no dents or distortions. The thickness of its walls was remarkably consistent while still looking natural, and the height of the rim was as straight as if it had been measured with a ruler. It was good enough to fire in a kiln and sell.
“And what about that technique?”
He had even added a skillful finishing touch by slightly drawing in the edge of the rim. As a result, the rim was not blunt or clumsy but had an artistic elegance to it.
“For someone that age to be able to do this, it must be one of two things. Either he’s a pottery genius, or he’s possessed by the ghost of someone who died while firing pottery...”
Han Eun-jeong folded her arms and stared at the cup Kim Somyeong had made once more. Then she muttered,
“There’s no way he’s possessed by the ghost of someone who died firing pottery, so he must be a naturally gifted pottery genius.”
In reality, the truth was the opposite. Unfortunately for her.
“Hehe. If I’d been able to use the wheel that well at his age...”
She swallowed the words she couldn’t bring herself to say aloud: I wouldn’t have settled for being a pottery teacher at a neighborhood workshop.
“That boy absolutely has to pursue pottery.”
Han Eun-jeong picked up her phone and made a call.