What makes a piece of pottery “Kutani”?

As a potter yourself, what was your image of Kutaniware before you were asked to make this short film?

To be honest, I have had the thought, “What even is Kutani?” I’ll be looking at a piece of Kutani porcelain in a craft store or souvenir shop and see blue and green Japanese paints*, but then you’ll see other pieces in a completely different style. I’d think, “So this is Kutaniware,” and I’d leave without thinking too much about it, but then I’d find myself in the same situation again. That’s been my experience with Kutani.

*Japanese paint is made from several kinds of glossy materials.

While on stage, you said, “The more I learned, the less I understood Kutaniware.” Could you elaborate?

Sure. Of course, the more I study, the more I understand the history, and the more I cover the current situation, the more information I have about which contemporary artists are making what. My general knowledge is increasing this way, but I still needed to find that core of understanding. Kutaniware is so diverse that it’s difficult to define. By the end I felt so lost I could barely use the word “Kutaniware” at all.

How were you able to get past that?

The biggest factor was getting interviewed by Yuji Akimoto*, KUTANism’s supervisor. My focus has only been on Kutaniware, but Akimoto has impressive insight into both western and Japanese art. That is, I realized there are sources out there to revitalize and put the spotlight on Kutaniware, but I don’t have them. I had to enter the maze of Kutani alone.

I decided to rely less on analyzing Kutaniware and instead tried to approach it more instinctually, relying on a kind of poetic sentiment that I had of the people and the region. In a sense, I was bringing on my signature move. [Laughter.] It was this way that I was finally able to develop a sense for how to film Kutaniware.

*Yuji Akimoto is a director and professor at the University Art Museum, Tokyo University of the Arts
and the director of the Nerima Art Museum. He is also the general supervisor of KUTANism.

The “poetic sentiment” of Hokuriku, over time

As someone who is originally from Saitama and has been making films and video actively in Tokyo for some time now, how did you use your “outsider perspective” to capture the allure of Kutaniware?

What amazed me most was how, through an uninterrupted history, the people of this region have been making ceramics from the stone in this land and done well by it.

One might argue, “Well, how is Kutani any different from ceramics elsewhere?” But when I don’t bother with the label “Kutani,” and just look at a piece of Kutaniware on its own terms, I can feel the people’s respect for life and the richness of the land in which they were born.

Has living in Kanazawa for the past four years had any effect on you?

I think it’s convenient for getting out to Nomi or Komatsu. If you’re going there from Tokyo, you might have the sense that, “It’s out in the country, so it must be a rich area.”

But if you’re coming from Kanazawa, you see Nomi and Komatsu through a different cultural lens. I’m glad I was about to understand the history and climate that resulted from the Kaga clan and their castle in Kanazawa during the feudal era; it allowed me to capture the locality of the area.

Kutani, a single “ecosystem”

You are well-known for vetting your interviewees, and this time as well, you interviewed thirty people from throughout the production region, but only selected five for the film. Can you tell us a bit about how you made your selections?

Everyone I interviewed was great. It was difficult to choose the final conversations and works.

I think I could’ve captured “the beauty of Kutani” no matter which interviewee I’d filmed, but when thinking about it cinematically, it’s the people who can tell a good story who fit best. Someone who can tell the story, not simply many times, but also with their gestures and appearance. Actually, the film itself doesn’t settle on a particular instance, and everyone expresses a timelessness in their own way. In the film, Ms. Muta* even talks about losing oneself in the moment, and that’s the structure we hoped to create.

*Yoca Muta is one of the most popular young artists in Japan. Her collection, “Bi no Utsuwa” is
currently available for purchase.

The title, “Kutani Sumu Hitobito” [“The Ones Who Inhabit Kutani”], certainly gives a sense of a perspective on human life, doesn’t it?

The theme of “habitat” came about in the middle of the project. Of course, we also called it “KUTANism.” [Laughter.]

We used the Chinese character that’s typically only used for an animal’s “habitat.” The character for humans “dwelling” in a space is different. But as I was shooting, I gradually began to see this world of Kutani as an ecosystem. In nature, there are individual species with high vitality. Each one has their own diet, and they coexist and thrive will little conflict. So, in the middle of it all, I switched to a feeling of “documenting Kutani’s ecosystem.”

Typically, when a new person is shown on screen, you’d see their name presented in text. However, this time, I did without. When you give someone’s name, the name gains more weight, but I wanted to present a story that wasn’t about who was great or who was successful. Rather, I wanted to tell the story of the people whose very lives are Kutani, as though we are simply looking at the “Kutani ecosystem.”

Powered by fragmented “entropy”

So did your initial feelings of not grasping Kutani change after shooting the film?

I couldn’t find the right words, so that’s why I expressed it that way. But in exposing myself to Kutani, I was better able to comprehend its history as pottery and its place of origin.

Kutani is absolutely inseparable from Hokuriku. People have prospered here for hundreds of years transforming clay into ceramics. Even in the large factories, the same clay has not been altered. No matter how diverse Kutaniware is, its roots are the same. Kutani is interested because its so free form and produces so much.

Being “free” doesn’t mean “without connection.” It seems to me that there’s a higher probability for something to remain in the future if it has a point of convergence. As Mr. Akimoto said, “rather, fragmented entropy* itself is ‘Kutani.” I was able to grasp a perspective of “the joy of Kutani, connecting unique histories.”

Now, when I enter a souvenir shop, the more colorful the Kutaniware is, and the less I understand it, the more interesting it becomes to me. I’ve come full circle, but it’s been an introspective journey.

* entropy: in science, a measure of the degree of chaos and irregularity