Once this was done, I was struck by how much even an inexpensive vintage kyūsu, fashioned simply out of unromantic aluminum, can express the Japanese taste.
Here's the kyūsu in question, looking happy after a thorough scrubbing:
The inside of the kyūsu (still stained with tannins - does this mean it was used mainly for kocha?):
The straining basket (after the removal of tannic staining), upturned so that you can get a good look at the patterning of the holes:
A label was still stuck to one side of the pot, telling us that it was manufactured by a company called KINTARO. As it happens, Kintarō is the name of a boy-hero in Japanese folklore:
On the base of the kyūsu, there is a full engraving of the name Kintarō along with a picture of the boy-hero himself, wielding his axe and riding the bear he tamed. (And check out that font!)
Now, here's the part that really charmed me. On the underside of the lid is what, at first glance, looks like an undifferentiated lump of soldering, used for keeping the lid handle in place:
But when you take a very close look... it's another representation of Kintarō!
I'm not sure that I'll keep this humble little beauty... it may end up being donated to a local charity shop... but having had the opportunity to examine this homey workaday kyūsu gave me more happiness than I can tell you.
Kyūsu-s rock - all of them!!
chamekke, not-so-closeted kyūsu addict
P.S. Any opinions on when this was made? I get a 1950's vibe from it, but that is entirely a subjective impression. The book Japanese Teapots (from the Form and Function series) makes no mention whatsoever of aluminum pots.
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