I'm drawn to things that are broken. Beauty is brought to you by the traditional Japanese technique "Kintsugi."
A)
I'm attracted to things that are broken. Beauty is brought to you by the traditional Japanese technique of "kintsugi".
The other day, I walked past an antique or second-hand shop where old tea bowls and plates were haphazardly piled up. In the past, when you walked around the shopping area, there were many shops like this. My father sat alone in the back of the shop. The atmosphere is similar to a second-hand bookshop.
B)
The charm of a broken tea bowl found in a Showa-era antique shop
Well, I was attracted by the unusual setting these days, and when I went inside, I saw a variety of dishes. I know nothing about pottery, but one caught my eye for some reason, and I looked at it for a while.
It was a hard bowl. It had flowers painted on it. But... it's broken... A large crack runs diagonally across the thin, strong flower stem. If this were a used car instead of a bowl, the value would be reduced because it has a history of repairs.
However, the cracks look like beautiful line drawings on the bowl, increasing its value. Although the trials run out of control in all directions, disregarding the harmonious overall composition and colours, the gaps are neatly sealed with gold powder, creating a strangely unbalanced equilibrium.
This golden crack-closing technique is called "Kintsugi". It involves repairing cracked or chipped ceramics with lacquer and gold powder so they can be used again.
C)
This technique was widely practised during the Azuchi-Momoyama period, and in the tea ceremony world, many valuable tea utensils were made using this technique.
In the Edo period, a repair method called "Yakitsugi", a relative of the ordinary people's version became very popular. Lead glass powder was sprinkled on the cracks of broken plates and bowls, which were then baked and glued together.
Professional craftsmen called "Yakitsu-Shi" were so popular that they carried repair tools such as seven rings around the city. Still, as the production of ceramics increased and cheap new products became available, they became obsolete. It is said that only a few remained around the Meiji and Taisho eras.
In recent years, "Kintsugi" has once again attracted attention. It is said that the Japanese spirit of "Mottainai" is being pushed well and is in line with the modern sustainable trend. They even seem to be selling "kintsugi kits".
D)
Why I'm attracted to broken things
Why do you say, "I'm attracted to things that are broken"? If you think about it momentarily, you will realise that you feel two things.
First, pottery is an artificial object made by kneading clay and crystallising it as the kneader imagines it. When an artefact is created, it confronts "time" and "nature".
It is a confrontation with time because it is always in danger of breaking once it is finished. Then, one day, it suddenly loses the battle, cracks and breaks. In other words, artificial objects always face the temptation to return to the earth and nature.
This force that things themselves try to return to nature, the fate of the desire for self-annihilation to "break", and people break away, overcome time - rewind a little into the past - and die. The tea bowl I wrote about at the beginning certainly has this "beauty that holds together", the frozen moment of the moment. That is number one.
And number two. "The beauty of rough lines". The way cracks run is a line drawn by nature's will to break. People don't dare to resist but follow the natural shape and gently insert glittering repair materials.
Wild nature and man come to terms here, with gold dust as a mediator. Man, the designer of artificial objects, approaches nature, the god of destruction known as chance, with awe, resignation and kindness. By using chaotic lines, the original restraint of the painting has become even more modest, which makes the broken tea bowl beautiful.
E)
In extreme terms, I'm much more attracted to the broken vessels than the unbroken ones. What I created to make something completely beautiful is damaged but still beautiful. Human feelings are strange.
F)
Another thing more beautiful than any tea utensil
While writing this article, I remembered another broken but beautiful bowl.
It was about ten years ago when I returned home. My father ate Ocha-zuke in the kitchen with Oshinko as a side dish. Suddenly, I looked at the teacup, held in a large, muscular hand, and noticed a large chip where the mouth should be! I said immediately.
"That cup is broken. You should throw it away because of danger."
My father didn't even look at me,
"That can't be."
He said with a grin and started sipping again, ignoring the chipped edge.
My mother told me about it later, and I remembered. That bowl was a gift I had given him for Father's Day a long time ago. I looked for it in catalogues and on the internet and then gave it to him, so I didn't remember what it looked like and didn't even notice it myself.
The owner never threw it away, and now there is nothing left to use it for. When I went to my parents' house, it was sleeping peacefully. I didn't do any repairs, but now I can feel it. For me, this is more beautiful than any other tea set.
I'm drawn to things that are broken. Beauty is brought to you by the traditional Japanese technique "Kintsugi."
https://san-tatsu.jp/articles/265709/
