I grew up loving to play in nature—catching insects in the mountains and fishing in the rivers. I was also fond of making things, spending countless hours building plastic models that were popular at the time. After such a childhood, however, I drifted through my youth without a clear purpose, spending restless days moving from one job to another, including daily labor.

The turning point in my life came when I was 22, with the passing of my grandfather, who had cherished me since I was little. In Japan, cremation is the norm, and the ashes are placed in an urn before burial. In other words, the urn is the final resting place of a human being.
Yet my grandfather’s ashes were about to be placed into a mass-produced, machine-made urn that felt inorganic and cold.

At that moment, I felt a strong sense of unease: “Is this really appropriate as the final vessel for a human life? Something feels wrong.” The thought grew within me that when my own parents eventually passed away, I would want their ashes to be placed in an urn I had made myself.

With that conviction, I quit my previous jobs and decided to dedicate myself to ceramics in Seto, a region renowned for its pottery workshops and kilns. I immediately enrolled in the Aichi Prefectural Ceramics Technical School in Seto and began my studies in ceramics.

After graduation, I trained at a Mino ware kiln, famous for Oribe and Shino. During this time, I discovered that my own birthplace once had its own pottery tradition called Atsumi ware. Unlike Mino ware, which flourished in the 15th–16th centuries, Atsumi ware dates back even further, to the 12th–13th centuries (Heian–Kamakura periods), with records showing that it was even used for tiles at Tōdai-ji Temple. I was gradually captivated by the beauty of Atsumi ware, which has since become my lifelong subject of study.

My artistic themes are the “fusion of the medieval and the contemporary” and “harmony with nature.” By fusion, I mean inheriting the beauty and techniques of ceramics made in Japan between the 12th and 16th centuries, while at the same time expressing them through the use of contemporary materials. My aim is to create innovative works that merge these traditions with today’s aesthetics and functions.

My pursuit of harmony with nature stems from a profound respect and admiration for the natural world in all its forms. This means not only using locally sourced materials with low environmental impact, but also valuing the human touch—work that machines cannot replicate. I seek to express in clay the warmth, sharpness, and severity of nature.

My process is one of facing myself, grappling with contradictions, and devoting my whole spirit to creation. Through my pottery, I hope to offer an opportunity for others to appreciate the struggles and richness of craft, as well as the enduring beauty of tradition.

Underlying these ideas is my questioning of modern approaches to objects—mass production, mass consumption, and mass disposal—and of the disregard for the unique cultures, traditions, and techniques of Japan and its localities.

In today’s society, where vast amounts of new information constantly appear and vanish, I feel we are losing the chance to savor cultural and natural values rooted in place—values that, once lost, can never be restored.

In such a time, I feel it is my responsibility as a ceramic artist to pass on, however modestly, the wisdom of the ancients, the culture of the local area, and the power of the earth’s abundance.

There are no borders in the act of making and using pottery. Through continuing my work, I feel the joy of connecting with people all over the world. While I remain rooted in my region, I continue to move toward the ideals I envision—sometimes drawing closer, sometimes drifting further away. This cycle repeats, yet I wish never to stop walking, to keep yearning eternally, and to continue pursuing this path.

 
INAYOSHI OSAMU
 
Japanese