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 passion for “harmony with nature” is rooted in reverence and admiration for the natural world. It also involves using locally sourced materials with minimal environmental impact, valuing handcrafted work that cannot be achieved by machines, and expressing nature’s warmth, sharpness, and severity in ceramics. I hope that the pottery created in this way will help people appreciate the profound charm of handcrafted work and the timeless beauty of tradition.

What shaped my beliefs was a questioning of the modern approach to things—one that disregards Japan’s unique culture, traditions, and techniques, as well as those of specific local regions, in favor of mass production, mass consumption, and disposal.

Specifically in recent years, living in a society flooded with vast amounts of new information that appears and disappears, I feel opportunities to appreciate locally rooted culture and nature—values that cannot be restored once lost—have also become increasingly scarce.

Under these circumstances, I believe that as a potter, I have a responsibility—however small—to convey the ancient, local culture, the richness of nature, and the life-giving power of the earth that I have learned.

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