What’s the story behind your kiln and Takatori Pottery?

Takatori Pottery was started by a group of potters from the Kuroda Clan along with potters brought back from Korea during the Japanese invasion of Korea 400 years ago. So, it has a unique historical background. My grandfather was involved in the Takatori Pottery resurrection during the revival of tea ceremony utensils from 1955 to 1965. This was the beginning of Onimaru Setsuzan Pottery. I’m the third generation carrying on this historic Takatori Pottery in the present day.

What I consider important for the current Takatori Pottery is to challenge new things while preserving tradition, as past generations have done. I traveled abroad to see how far Takatori’s sense of beauty can go. I have done six solo exhibitions in Paris and lectured at Oxford University. Recently, I started a JICA (Japan International Cooperation Agency) project in Vietnam, making pottery using natural materials to develop the local pottery industry. I believe that Takatori is a rare pottery that has continued to take on these challenges.

Your ancestors lived in Toho Village where you were born, raised and still live. What makes this place home?

In a word, it’s the support. I feel that everyone supports me here, whether alive or deceased. There are graves here, and not only my ancestors, but past neighbors are all here. I think people who have supported me since I was born are still here. That’s why I take sake, rice, and salt on the first day of every month and go around the entire property to pay my respects to the place.

When I do this, I think about gratitude. I never thought that I would be showing my work in Paris or working in Vietnam. I’m thankful I can live such a dreamy life with a healthy body.

While some people think their house doesn’t represent their identity, in your case, everything is connected to where you live, from your family to work.

I always think about the universal value when I create my work. When searching for how to create something that interests people around the world — regardless of their nationalities, religions, and races — I need to go back to my roots and ask myself, “Who am I?” This brings me back to what I just said about home. If you don’t value your roots, you will never be able to produce values accepted worldwide. That is why I believe we must first cherish our immediate surroundings.

Do you use the tableware you’ve made here for your daily meals?

Of course. But rather than using new dishes, I use a mixture of dishes made by various people, including past artists and apprentices. I pick up what I find easy to use.

I think that when you use good dishes, you come alive. I believe what makes us human is culture. Therefore, if you use cheap plastic containers, no matter how much money you make or how high a position you have, you are not culturally human. In that sense, tools are a barometer of one’s growth.

What’s your favorite place at home?

I guess it’s the dining table. The dining table’s been where everyone’s gathered since I was a child. So I think that’s where I like to be.

You said that, for you, home is “a place where everyone is.” On the other hand, I imagine you spend a lot of time alone in your studio to create your work?

That’s right. At the studio entrance, a sign reads, “鬼手仏心 / kisyu-busshin ” [Cruel operation with the merciful heart of Buddha]. This is a phrase used for doctors. Cutting up people’s bodies is the work of demons, but their heart is Buddha’s because they do that to help people. What my grandpa meant by this phrase is that making pottery is the same thing. Destroying nature, taking clay, and cutting down trees to make pottery is the work of demons, but we must have the heart of a Buddha. To do so, we must not waste resources and must not forget to pass on the Takatori culture to the next generation.

That is why I have to concentrate on my work once I enter the studio. The studio is not a comfortable space, but rather a place of tension. It is where I feel like I’m on a stage. When I enter, I must go deeper to bring out everything in me. The more experience I gain and the more skillful I become, the more people call me a master; I have to do work worthy of being called that. That’s what a craftsman is.