A once-in-a-lifetime vessel. An encounter with a "one-of-a-kind piece you'll never see again," born from handcrafted artistry.

Mass-produced tableware is readily available everywhere. The same shape, the same color, the same weight. Ten pieces lined up on a shelf are perfectly identical, and whichever you choose, it's all the same. This is the modern "norm," born from the precision and efficiency of manufacturing. However, handmade vessels are fundamentally different. Even if the same artist uses the same clay, the same glaze, and fires in the same kiln, no two finished vessels will ever be exactly alike.

Each piece bears the subtle individuality of the clay, the traces where the glaze flowed, and the expressions carved by the flames. And above all, there are the "marks" of the artist's hands at every moment. This is the fundamental difference between mass-produced and handmade vessels. A handmade vessel is a unique "encounter" that exists only once in this world. In Japan, we call such encounters "Ichigo Ichie."

What is Ichigo Ichie?

A Philosophy of Encounters Cultivated by the Way of Tea

The term "Ichigo Ichie" spread from the philosophy of tea expounded by the 17th-century tea master Ii Naosuke in his book, "Chayu Ichie Shu" (Collection on the Single Encounter in Tea). In a tea ceremony, both host and guest are taught to devote themselves wholeheartedly, with the awareness that "this tea gathering is a once-in-a-lifetime encounter." The idea is that this moment, in this place, with these people, will never be repeated. Therefore, one should pour all their effort into that single instant.

In the world of tea ceremony, the selection of tools is also deeply intertwined with this philosophy. Tea bowls and other tea utensils are individual works imbued with the artist's spirit, chosen with consideration for the season and the relationship with the guests. Even with the same tea bowl, its expression will appear different depending on the season it is used. The color of a kiln change viewed in the morning light tells a completely different story from the same tea bowl illuminated by the twilight glow.

In the world of "wabi-cha" pursued by Sen no Rikyu, the value of a tea bowl was not in its monetary worth, but in its "single uniqueness of life." No two famous tea bowls, known as "Meibutsu-chawan," had the same expression, and this "uniqueness" was the highest value of a vessel in the tea ceremony. The tea bowls made by Chojiro, the first generation of Raku ware, have been carefully handed down to the present day as "unique pieces that will never be born again."

The spirit of "Ichigo Ichie" exists beyond the tea ceremony. The act of choosing a handmade vessel is itself a practice of Ichigo Ichie. The vessel that happened to be on the shop shelf, at that day, at that time. That encounter can never be replicated. Even if the artist kneads the same clay in the same way, creates the same shape, and puts it in the same kiln, a completely identical vessel will not be born.

Regarding the spirit of "wabi-sabi" hidden in Japanese vessels, developed from the history of the tea ceremony, the following article also explains this unique Japanese culture in detail, so please refer to it.

The Esthetics of "Wabi-Sabi" Hidden in Japanese Pottery - Cultivating Vessels

Awareness that "This moment will never come again"

In our daily lives, we make many "choices." We choose groceries at the supermarket, clothes, and furniture. Many of these items can be repurchased. However, the encounter with a handmade vessel is different. The vessel in front of you is a "one-of-a-kind" piece that exists only at this moment. No two patterns are ever the same.

This feeling is similar to encounters while traveling. The people you meet, the food you eat, the scenery you see during a trip. These remain in your memory, but the exact same moment will never come again. When you pick up a handmade vessel, the feeling that "I was able to encounter this vessel at this very moment" carries the same richness as a travel memory.

When we choose a vessel with the awareness that "this moment will never come again," our eyes naturally become sharper. "Does this shape truly suit my lifestyle?" "Will I get tired of this color if I see it every day?" "Is this weight easy to use?" "In what situation do I want to use this vessel?" By carefully asking these questions, we eventually arrive at a sure sense of "this is it." That is the essence of encountering a handmade vessel.

Why Each Handmade Vessel is Unique

Handmade vessels are fundamentally different from mass-produced ones because human hands and the forces of nature are deeply involved in their manufacturing process. From the clay to shaping, glazing, and firing, every step is imbued with "chance" and "individuality."

The Uniqueness of Clay: Even from the Same Source, Clay is Not Uniform

The clay, which is the material of the vessel, has subtle differences in its composition depending on where it was collected. Even within clay from the same region, the amount of iron and silica will differ between clay extracted from deep layers and that from shallow layers. Furthermore, even if the same potter sources clay from the same region, the properties of the clay can vary slightly depending on the year or season it was collected.

Artists, through years of experience, sense these differences and adjust the amount of water and kneading method while observing the clay's condition. However, no matter how much experience they accumulate, they cannot perfectly unify the inherent individuality of natural clay. This "ununiform individuality" directly contributes to the richness of the vessel's expression.

For example, Shigaraki clay, famous for Shigaraki ware, is coarse-grained and highly refractory, allowing natural glaze (glaze that occurs naturally) to beautifully melt and flow during firing. However, even with Shigaraki clay, if the coarseness of the particles or the iron content differs, the texture of the fired product will vary. One vessel might have a reddish hue, while another might have a calm, grayish tone. This is the difference in individuality that the clay speaks of.

Some potters even dig clay themselves from mountains and fields, purify it through a process called "suihi" (levigation), and blend their own unique clay. The clay created in this way carries the "memory of the region and nature" that is unique to that artist's work. Even artists who use commercially prepared blended clay often mix it with local clay to create their own unique base material. In any case, as long as the clay itself has individuality, no two vessels will ever be the same.

Gravity's Flow: The Serendipity of Glaze

Glaze is a material applied to the surface of ceramics to vitrify it. It is made by blending feldspar, lime, ash, and other ingredients, and when it melts during firing, it creates the color, texture, and luster of the vessel. Even slight differences in the thickness or flow of the liquid glaze applied to the vessel can drastically alter its appearance after firing.

Since glaze is liquid, it flows according to gravity. If a vessel is dipped vertically, the glaze will be thinner at the top and accumulate more towards the bottom. The way it flows varies depending on the shape of the vessel, the concentration of the glaze, the angle and duration of dipping, and the speed at which the artist pulls it out. No matter how carefully the same procedure is followed, the flow of the liquid will never be exactly the same each time.

Ash glaze (haiyu) and straw ash glaze (warahaiyu) show this tendency particularly strongly, where the way the glaze melts and flows during firing becomes the "scenery" of the vessel itself. The accumulation of glaze at the tip of a drip, forming a small mound, known as "yudamari," is a sculptural beauty unique to handmade pieces that is never found in mass-produced items. Moreover, when multiple glazes are layered, it is impossible to know how their boundaries will react or what colors will emerge until the kiln is opened.

On vessels with a white surface, such as Shino ware or Kohiki, variations in glaze thickness create expressions called "keshiki" (scenery). The parts where the glaze is thick and raised appear soft and white, while thinner parts are translucent, allowing the color of the clay body to show through. These gradations of color vary from piece to piece, even when the same artist uses the same technique. This "scenery born of chance" is the essence of the allure that collectors of handmade vessels seek for years.

For more on the charm of "keshiki" in Japanese pottery, please refer to the following article.

Reading the "Keshiki" (Scenery) of Pottery: The Aesthetic of One-of-a-Kind Pieces, Enjoying Glaze Drips and Scorching

The Uncontrollable Uncertainty of Firing

Modern electric kilns have high temperature control precision, minimizing deviations from the set temperature. However, the inside of a kiln is never uniform. There are temperature differences between areas closer to the heat source and those further away, and the firing outcome also changes depending on how vessels are stacked and how the kiln is packed.

In wood-fired kilns (makigama) and climbing kilns (noborigama), this uncertainty is even greater. The type of wood, the temperature and humidity of the day, and the experience and intuition of the kiln operator—all these factors influence the firing result. Continuously stoking the kiln and judging the temperature by the color and intensity of the flame. Even with such advanced skills, it is impossible to control everything that happens inside the kiln.

Artists using anagama kilns fire for several days. During this time, ash swirls around inside the kiln and settles on the surface of the vessels. This melted ash, adhering to the vessels like glaze, is called "natural glaze" (shizen-yu) and is a unique "keshiki" (scenery) born only on vessels from that specific kiln, that specific firing, and that specific location. The change in "hi-iro" (fire color) that the flames engrave on the vessel's surface is also something no one can predict until the kiln is opened.

Many vessels taken out of the kiln do not turn out exactly as the artist intended. Whether this is considered a "failure" or a "gift from the kiln" varies depending on the artist's philosophy, but in any case, the kiln is a living thing, a place where something beyond human intention intervenes. This uncertainty gives handmade vessels the character of a "fated unique piece."

Potter's Wheel Marks, Fingerprints, Brushstrokes: The Artist's Touch

The most direct "human traces" left on handmade vessels are the marks of the artist's hands themselves. When forming a vessel on a potter's wheel, the movement of the fingertips touching the clay remains on the surface. This is called "rokuro-me" (potter's wheel marks). The concentric rokuro-me, visible on the inside and outside of the vessel, tell the story of the speed and pressure with which the clay was pulled up by hand.

Vessels made by "tebineri" (hand-pinching) retain the marks of fingers pressing and building up the clay. Their uneven thickness and subtly distorted shapes are proof that they were "made by human hands." Large tebineri pieces, such as Shigaraki's large jars or Mashiko's flower vases, bear the weight of the hours or even days the artist spent working on them.

In the "hakeme" (brushstroke) technique, where a white clay slip called "keshodo" is applied to the vessel, the marks of a thick brush quickly spreading it remain on the surface. The vigor, direction, and width of these brushstrokes are unique to each artist. Even with the same brushstrokes, marks made with powerful, swift strokes will have a completely different appearance from those made slowly and carefully. The hakeme of Koishiwara ware are strong and dynamic, while those of Kohiki are soft and gentle.

Such hand marks are never present in mass-produced items. The surface of molded vessels is uniformly smoothed, and traces of human hands are removed. However, handmade vessels encapsulate the "time the artist spent engaging with that vessel." When you pick up a vessel, touching its surface is also the moment your fingertips meet the place where the artist's fingertips once touched.

The Joy of Finding a Vessel and Feeling "This is it"

Narrating an encounter with a vessel (story-like)

It was an autumn afternoon. I was slowly browsing the vessels lined up on shelves in a small gallery in Kyoto. A Kohiki rice bowl, a celadon small plate, a iron-glazed katakuchi. All were carefully crafted, beautiful pieces. But even as I picked them up, the feeling of "this is it" didn't come.

Then, at the end of a shelf, there was a small bowl. It was Kise-Seto earthenware, slightly distorted, with the glaze flowing unevenly to one side. When I picked it up, it felt lighter than expected, fitting perfectly into my hand. The color of the clay, visible through the glaze, glowed warmly in the autumn twilight. On that one spot, there was a small protrusion where the glaze had wavered and pooled. When I placed my thumb on it, it fit just right.

"I'll put this vessel on the kitchen windowsill," I thought. In the morning, with an orange or an apple inside. In that instant, I clearly saw how that vessel would be used. That was the feeling of "this is it."

Encounters with handmade vessels often come with such "moments where you can see the story unfold." The moment you pick up a vessel, you envision what food it will hold at your own table, what kind of morning it will greet. That future story is imbued within the vessel's expression.

Choosing by "fate" rather than comparison

When choosing handmade pottery, the usual purchasing behavior of "comparing and choosing the best" doesn't quite apply. Instead of comparing which vessel is superior, it's important to sense "which vessel truly resonates with my current lifestyle."

There's a word, "en" (縁), meaning fate or destiny. The feeling that encounters with both people and objects happen "by fate" is deeply rooted in Japanese culture. Handmade pottery is precisely chosen by this "en." No matter how objectively beautiful a piece may be, if it doesn't shine in your own life, perhaps it wasn't meant to be.

Conversely, even if a vessel seems plain at first glance, if you can vividly imagine it in your kitchen, on your dining table, or by your window, then it is "en." The choice is not based on price, the artist's fame, or the origin, but on the pure feeling of "do I want to live with this vessel?"

After buying a handmade vessel, you rarely regret the choice. What you choose by "en" almost always turns into the conviction of "this was the right choice after all" the more you use it. It's also about trusting your own sensibilities through the encounter with the vessel.

The Joy of Choosing Handmade Pottery

Choosing with knowledge of the artist's background

Handmade vessels are created by human artists. Understanding where and with what intentions an artist creates their work deepens your relationship with the piece.

For example, imagine an artist creating pottery in the harsh natural environment of Hokkaido, committed to using local clay. The climate of the region, the color of the gathered clay, and the changing seasons the artist experiences there—all these influence the vessel. When you hold a piece with this background in mind, the amount of stories the vessel tells is different. When you think, "This bluish hue might resemble the winter sky of the northern country," the vessel is no longer just tableware but a conveyor of a story from a specific place, a specific time, and a specific person.

Knowing the artist's career and creative philosophy also enriches the experience of choosing pottery. Was an artist born into a potter's family, touching clay from a young age? Or did they transition from a completely different profession, opening a kiln in their forties? Depending on their background, even pottery from the same region will have different things embedded in the work.

At Nokaze, we provide detailed profiles and production backgrounds for each artist. Where they are from, what kind of clay they use, and what their intentions are behind creating their pieces. Reading such information before choosing a vessel creates a conviction: "I want to use this artist's work." Knowing the artist leads to a deeper understanding of the vessel and enriches your daily experience of using it.

Understanding the origin, clay, and glaze before choosing

Japan has many pottery and porcelain production areas. Shigaraki, Bizen, Hagi, Arita, Karatsu, Mashiko, Kasama, Tokoname, Echizen, Tamba... Each region has its own unique clay, traditional techniques, and distinctive aesthetic. Understanding these differences greatly expands your perspective when choosing pottery.

For instance, highly water-resistant porcelain (white and hard pottery) and earthenware, also known as "dobutsu" (earthenware, rustic and warm pottery), differ in their usage and compatibility with food. Porcelain beautifully showcases the color of soups and suits sharp, refined dishes. Earthenware has excellent heat retention, and its earthy warmth complements stewed dishes and Japanese cuisine. Neither is superior; the choice depends on what you seek for your own table.

Even with glazes, simply knowing basic characteristics such as "celadon glaze offers a bluish beauty," "ame-yu (amber glaze) provides warm, brownish tones," "white matte glaze offers a soft whiteness," and "tetsu-yu (iron glaze) provides deep black or brown渋味" will change how you view pottery. The process of choosing pottery while gradually acquiring basic knowledge of its origin, clay, and glaze is itself a rich journey of learning.

As your knowledge grows, your time at galleries and craft fairs becomes richer. The more you notice things like, "This whiteness is the softness of Kohiki" or "This crazing pattern is characteristic of Hagi ware," the deeper your dialogue with the pottery becomes. And when you encounter a piece that resonates with you after acquiring knowledge of its origin, clay, and glaze, the meaning of that encounter becomes even richer.

For more on the changes brought by pottery materials, please read the following article to gain knowledge and enjoy choosing your pottery.

Pottery vs. Porcelain: Comparing the Differences in Japanese Ceramics

How to Live with One-of-a-Kind Pieces

Even if it chips or breaks: the choice of Kintsugi

Even if you cherish and use handmade pottery, it may eventually chip or crack. With mass-produced items, you can simply buy a replacement. However, with one-of-a-kind pottery, there is no identical replacement. In such cases, Japan offers the beautiful repair culture of "Kintsugi."

Kintsugi is a technique where chips and cracks are mended with lacquer, and the seams are finished with gold or silver powder. The repaired areas are not hidden but become part of the vessel's scenery as golden lines. The idea that "a wound becomes history" truly touches the core of Japanese aesthetics.

A kintsugi-repaired vessel takes on a different expression than before it was mended. The circumstances of the damage, the decision to repair it, the time spent by the craftsman—all these accumulate as part of the vessel's "story." Every time you pick up the vessel, tracing its golden lines, memories resurface: "I dropped it from the shelf that time," "I noticed it after coming back from a trip." This is proof that the vessel has become more than just a tool; it has become a "companion in life."

Kintsugi can be learned independently or entrusted to a professional craftsman. In recent years, kintsugi workshops have increased nationwide, offering many opportunities for weekend experiences. A vessel repaired by your own hands will hold even greater affection. Instead of discarding a broken vessel, repairing it and continuing to use it—this simple choice transforms the relationship with the vessel from "consumption" to "coexistence."

Moreover, the choice of kintsugi offers an answer to today's "throwaway culture." To use cherished items for a long time. To show respect for objects by repairing them. This attitude, through our relationship with pottery, can serve as an opportunity to re-evaluate our overall values in life.

For more on the charm of kintsugi, please also refer to the following:

Kintsugi: How Japan Repairs Broken Ceramics with Gold

Using for a long time with a sense of "nurturing"

Many handmade vessels "grow" with use. Earthenware, in particular, is absorbent, so with continued use, oils and food colors permeate it, giving the vessel's surface a deeper character. This is known as the coloring of "kannyu" (crazing), and in Japan, there is a culture of appreciating it as a sign of long use.

Kohiki ware especially shows this change. A vessel that was pure white when new gradually takes on color with use, becoming uniquely yours. This transformation is also a record of the user's meals. What was served in it, what dishes it accompanied? Such moments quietly reside within the vessel's surface. Even identical Kohiki vessels will have completely different expressions after ten years of use compared to six months.

To care for pottery with a sense of nurturing, it's essential to perform basic maintenance diligently. At the beginning, "medome" (sealing) can be done by boiling the vessel in rice water to prevent stains from penetrating the crazing. However, if the intention is to enjoy the penetration of stains, medome may not be done. It's best to consult the artist or the store where you purchased it.

After use, wash promptly and store after drying thoroughly. Regarding microwave and dishwasher use, it varies depending on the artist and the characteristics of the region, so it's good to check at the time of purchase. Generally, earthenware tends to be vulnerable to sudden temperature changes. Also, when stacking for storage, placing cloth or paper between them can prevent scratches.

Vessels used for a long time possess a "depth" that new ones lack. It's a depth accumulated through time and memories. Every time you take it from the shelf, memories of meals associated with that vessel resurface. Meals shared with someone, seasonal dishes, casual morning scenes. Special dinners spent with loved ones. Handmade vessels are also vessels that hold the memories of life.

And when a vessel that has been used for a long time is passed on to someone else, its story is augmented with a new owner. A one-of-a-kind vessel can pass from one family to another, accumulating the memories of each household, and continuing to live through time. This represents a "life of a vessel" that mass-produced items can never possess.

Frequently Asked Questions about Japanese Pottery (FAQ)

Q1. What is the biggest difference between handmade and mass-produced ceramics?

While mass-produced items all have the same shape, color, and weight, no two handmade pieces are ever exactly alike. Due to the "serendipity" and "human touch" imbued by the unique qualities of the clay, the trajectory of the flowing glaze, the expression carved by the kiln's flame, and the artist's handprints, each piece is a singular "one-of-a-kind" item in the world.

Q2. What do "Ichigo Ichie" and "En" mean in the context of choosing pottery?

It refers to the spirit originating from the tea ceremony, which emphasizes "this moment will never be repeated." An encounter with a handmade vessel is a special occurrence that happens precisely at that day and time. Instead of comparing and choosing the best among others, "en" refers to a way of choosing that values intuition and connection—sensing "does it fit my lifestyle?" and "can I imagine using it in the future?"

Q3. Why does each handmade vessel have a different expression?

This is mainly due to the following four factors:

・Individuality of clay: The components, such as iron content, subtly differ depending on where, when, and from what layer the clay is harvested.

・Serendipity of glaze: Being a liquid, glaze flows under gravity, leading to variations in thickness and dripping (glaze pooling).

・Uncertainty of firing: Temperature differences within the kiln and the position where ash or flame hits the pottery (resulting in natural glaze or "hi-iro") cannot be entirely controlled.

・Artist's touch: Potter's wheel marks, fingerprints, brushstrokes, and other traces of the time the artist spent with the pottery during shaping remain.

Q4. What does it mean for handmade pottery to "grow"? And what should I do if it breaks?

Because earthenware is absorbent, oils and food colors permeate the "kannyu" (crazing pattern) with daily use, causing the pottery to develop a deeper character over time. This is the culture of "nurturing" pottery. Furthermore, if a piece chips or breaks, Japan has a beautiful repair technique called "Kintsugi," which uses lacquer and gold powder. This allows you to continue using the item for a long time, enjoying its "wounds" as part of its history (scenery).

An encounter with pottery is like an encounter with a person

An encounter with handmade pottery is like an encounter with a person. Meeting at the same era, in the same place, at the same time. This convergence of chance creates "en" (fate/destiny). A handmade vessel, too, appears before you as a "single piece," created by a specific artist, working with specific clay, at a specific time, born from the flames.

The convenience and rationality of mass-produced items are indispensable in modern life. However, what handmade pottery offers is a richness on a different dimension than mere convenience and rationality. When you know that the mug you pour your coffee into every morning was made by an artist who kneaded mountain clay. When you know that the glaze flow on the small bowl holding your dinner stew was created by the kiln's flame that day. Each time you pick up a piece, you can connect with the story beyond it.

Choosing pottery with the spirit of Ichigo Ichie means cherishing "this moment, this encounter with this vessel." Instead of comparing and choosing the best, you keep the vessel with which you feel a connection. And you live with that vessel for a long time, repairing it if it breaks, nurturing it through use. Such a relationship with pottery teaches us a new meaning of owning things.

Choosing pottery is also about confronting your own sensibilities. Asking "why am I drawn to this vessel?" leads to asking "what kind of life do I value?" The process of trusting and refining your sensibilities through handmade pottery brings a richness that goes beyond the simple act of choosing a vessel.

The vessel you pick up today is a one-of-a-kind existence in this world. Your fingertips will rest on the same place where the artist's hands touched the clay. Your eyes will take in the scenery created by the kiln's flame. And every day spent with that vessel will eventually become part of your own story.

Nokaze is a place for such "fated encounters." Each piece, imbued with the artist's thoughts and the time spent on their craft, awaits to begin a new story at your table. Please cherish your encounters with pottery.

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