【 The Concept 】
A horse pared down to an archaic silhouette — the ancestor-shape of a horse rather than a portrait of one. It stands four-square and monumental, a heavy block of a body carried on four tapering peg legs with a clean arch of space between them, the neck rising as a thin, flat plane to a small, tucked head. Every naturalistic detail has been let go and replaced with sign: the mane cut into a row of deep square notches, a band of key-fret pattern incised down the neck, a single round hole pierced clean through for the eye, a little knotted saddle-ribbon modelled on the back. It reads at once as very old and very modern — the stylised war-horse of ancient tomb figures seen through a mid-century sculptor's eye. As the zodiac horse it carries the animal's old meanings — drive, momentum, success, things that go well and move ahead — but the form reaches further back, to a time when a horse in clay was made to stand guard and carry the spirit onward. Still, grounded, and quietly powerful.
【 The Function 】
A sculptural object with real presence for its size. Upright and solid, it holds a surface on its own — a shelf, a mantel, a console, a broad desk — and reads cleanly from across a room, its strong silhouette carrying at a distance and its incised detail and pierced eye rewarding a closer look. It needs no companion and no explaining; it simply stands, planted and calm, and anchors the space around it. Set it where its outline can be seen against a plain wall or a window.
【 The Texture 】
A deep pine-green reactive glaze, mottled all over as though breathed onto the clay — darker where it gathers, breaking to a paler misted green over every curve, the way a reactive glaze separates and re-crystallises as the kiln cools. The effect is closer to weathered, patinated bronze than to anything smooth or industrial: a living, uneven surface that shifts as the light moves across it. Against that soft mottle, the carved details stay crisp — the notched mane, the key-fret band, the ribbon on the back — the glaze pooling darker in every cut to draw them out. At the very tips of the four feet the glaze stops and the bare pale clay shows through, a small honest note of earth beneath the colour — a reminder that the piece began as clay and came through fire. Weighty, glassy where the light catches, and warm-cool green throughout.
【 Presence 】
Strong, still, and faintly ancient. Where a delicate piece asks to be studied, this one commands a space by sheer silhouette — the thin blade of the neck, the notched mane, the dark pierced eye giving it an archaic, almost totemic gaze. The mottled green carries the gravity of old bronze, and the piece wears it with authority: calm rather than showy, monumental rather than large. It brings a room a note of permanence and quiet power, an object that looks as though it has stood a long time and will stand a long time yet. A horse to anchor a shelf and hold the eye.
Sourced from a private collection in Japan.
【 The Concept 】
A horse pared down to an archaic silhouette — the ancestor-shape of a horse rather than a portrait of one. It stands four-square and monumental, a heavy block of a body carried on four tapering peg legs with a clean arch of space between them, the neck rising as a thin, flat plane to a small, tucked head. Every naturalistic detail has been let go and replaced with sign: the mane cut into a row of deep square notches, a band of key-fret pattern incised down the neck, a single round hole pierced clean through for the eye, a little knotted saddle-ribbon modelled on the back. It reads at once as very old and very modern — the stylised war-horse of ancient tomb figures seen through a mid-century sculptor's eye. As the zodiac horse it carries the animal's old meanings — drive, momentum, success, things that go well and move ahead — but the form reaches further back, to a time when a horse in clay was made to stand guard and carry the spirit onward. Still, grounded, and quietly powerful.
【 The Function 】
A sculptural object with real presence for its size. Upright and solid, it holds a surface on its own — a shelf, a mantel, a console, a broad desk — and reads cleanly from across a room, its strong silhouette carrying at a distance and its incised detail and pierced eye rewarding a closer look. It needs no companion and no explaining; it simply stands, planted and calm, and anchors the space around it. Set it where its outline can be seen against a plain wall or a window.
【 The Texture 】
A deep pine-green reactive glaze, mottled all over as though breathed onto the clay — darker where it gathers, breaking to a paler misted green over every curve, the way a reactive glaze separates and re-crystallises as the kiln cools. The effect is closer to weathered, patinated bronze than to anything smooth or industrial: a living, uneven surface that shifts as the light moves across it. Against that soft mottle, the carved details stay crisp — the notched mane, the key-fret band, the ribbon on the back — the glaze pooling darker in every cut to draw them out. At the very tips of the four feet the glaze stops and the bare pale clay shows through, a small honest note of earth beneath the colour — a reminder that the piece began as clay and came through fire. Weighty, glassy where the light catches, and warm-cool green throughout.
【 Presence 】
Strong, still, and faintly ancient. Where a delicate piece asks to be studied, this one commands a space by sheer silhouette — the thin blade of the neck, the notched mane, the dark pierced eye giving it an archaic, almost totemic gaze. The mottled green carries the gravity of old bronze, and the piece wears it with authority: calm rather than showy, monumental rather than large. It brings a room a note of permanence and quiet power, an object that looks as though it has stood a long time and will stand a long time yet. A horse to anchor a shelf and hold the eye.
Sourced from a private collection in Japan.
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