A Shift in Awareness

Hanada: The motif on this plate, inspired by Tenshō karuta (a predecessor of playing cards), really stands out.

Kotaro Matsuura: I made this around my second year working as a painter at a kiln, after graduating from a training school in Kyoto (this piece is not included in the current exhibition).
I designed the motif myself.
At the time, I was very conscious of demonstrating my skills—using subtle shading to enhance the whiteness, or carefully filling in details—to earn recognition by giving it everything I had. But now, the kind of work I admire most is what Mansaku Nakao does.
There’s a saying, “Great skill appears clumsy,” and I feel that perfectly captures the essence of what I’m drawn to now.

Blue-and-White Loved by the Japanese

Hanada: When one thinks of your work, overglaze enamels often come to mind first, but your sometsuke (blue-and-white) pieces are also very compelling.

Kotaro Matsuura: Japanese people really do love sometsuke, don’t they? Whether it’s early Imari, ko-sometsuke, or gosude, I think Japanese people are drawn to sometsuke because they can sense the smell of the clay.

Hanada: There was even a book titled “The Scent of Gosu.”

Kotaro Matsuura: In the past, one major theme was how to achieve a clean, vivid gosu blue on a pure white, thin porcelain body—but historically speaking, that has already been accomplished.
Rather than that, I find myself drawn to porcelain like that of Mansaku Nakao or Shingo Oka.
I want to paint on a body rich with character, so that the gosu feels alive—almost as if its presence were rising from the surface.

Sometsuke Oval Plate with Floral Motif

Hanada: This oval plate with a peony design feels quite different from your earlier works, even in the quality of the clay.

Kotaro Matsuura: I really like how it feels to the touch as well.
It’s made using an outer mold technique found in ko-sometsuke; because pressure is applied from the inside, the well develops an interesting expression (this method involves shaping the vessel with a plaster mold applied to the outside rather than the inside).
Even among ko-sometsuke, there are thicker pieces, aren’t there? That sense of form is what I had in mind.

Hanada: The tone of the gosu, the expression of the lion—it feels partly like ko-sometsuke… and partly like old Kutani…

Kotaro Matsuura: I think that’s because all of those influences are mixed together in my head as I work toward my own ideal vision of sometsuke.
There are so many historical examples, but deciding what exactly is appealing about each is something you have to interpret for yourself.
I love old works, so I enjoy reproducing them faithfully—but lately, I can’t help wanting to change things, even just a little (laughs).
With both Mansaku Nakao and Shingo Oka, you can sense many influences, yet the work is unmistakably their own.

Hanada: Were there any particular considerations in the composition?

Kotaro Matsuura: The proportions between the motifs aren’t true to life, are they? The lion-and-peony motif is common, but here the lion is brave yet smaller than the peony. I hope it comes across as slightly humorous.

Working with the Hand as It Moves

Hanada: The density in the floral areas is clearly different from your earlier, more strictly trained work.

Kotaro Matsuura: Absolutely. Some of the gosu spills over, and uneven patches are left in the solidly painted sections.
In an essay titled “Learning from Ko-sometsuke” published in an Imari journal, Shunzo Masaki discusses the difference between “trained hands” and “hands that follow their own movement.” I found the phrase “hands that follow” especially illuminating.
He describes ko-sometsuke lines as clumsy but drawn with great effort. comparing them to the calligraphy of Ryōkan—and only someone who has actually traced those brush movements could offer such a precise explanation. I don’t think there’s a clearer articulation of the essence of ko-sometsuke than that.
It’s writing that could only come from someone with truly deep insight.

Hanada: Shunzo Masaki’s work clearly rests on an enormous foundation of knowledge, yet he continues to express it through everyday tableware.

Kotaro Matsuura: “If a trace of the hand remains in the movement—where the brush enters and where it leaves—that is beautiful. Even where unevenness remains, that too is beautiful.” That’s how I interpret Shunzo Masaki’s words.
In the past, I would have tried to erase any unevenness in pigment or glaze marks.

Hanada: His work feels like a refined, elevated realization of exactly that idea—achieved with complete naturalness.

Kotaro Matsuura: The way Masaki connects his lines is extraordinary.
It’s not something you can do easily at all.

Ceramics I Truly Love

Kotaro Matsuura: By the way, I tried making this sake cup in the style of early Imari.
Early Imari itself ranges from opaque to quite translucent, after all.

Hanada: When you grow fond of something, you simply have to try making it yourself.
You can really feel your love for ceramics.

Clay from the Ancient Lake Biwa Stratum

Hanada: I’ve heard that you’re introducing changes to both your porcelain and earthenware this time.

Kotaro Matsuura: With porcelain, I’m aiming for something more rustic, and recently I’ve begun adding raw Shigaraki clay.
Lake Biwa is said to have shifted from around present-day Shigaraki and Iga to its current location, and the strata in those areas are called the Ancient Lake Biwa layer.
So essentially, I’m using clay from what was once the lakebed.
For example, this piece is still bisque-fired, but it uses relatively coarse clay.
I threw it while it was quite soft, then trimmed it gently with a not-too-sharp tool while it was still pliable.

Hanada: And how about your earthenware?

Kotaro Matsuura: When you look at Bizen ware, of course firing quality matters, but the work of true masters is always refined. Their wheel work is completely different. Without glaze, that difference becomes even more apparent.
That’s why I admire Michihiro Domoto—his work is so well composed.
He trained in Bizen, so his tokkuri(Japanese sake flasks) and closed forms are exceptionally skillful.
That’s why I currently have a theme in mind: “boldness in porcelain, refinement in earthenware.”

A Slightly Mean Sparrow

Hanada: These are overglaze plates with sparrow motifs.

Kotaro Matsuura: I took inspiration from old Imari overglaze ware.
Many Imari overglaze pieces are densely painted, but I liked the atmosphere of this sparrow design, so I bought a full set of five.

Hanada: You’ve given the sparrow a bit of an attitude—almost mischievous.

Brush-Washer–Shaped Mukōzuke

Hanada: This brush-washer–shaped mukōzuke has a wonderful cut to it.

Kotaro Matsuura: This one was difficult.
I threw it on the wheel, altered it into a square, and then cut it.
With porcelain, you’d normally use a mold for this shape, but I chose a more earthenware-like approach—altering and refining it by hand after throwing.

Hanada: Just as you said—“boldness in porcelain, refinement in earthenware.”

Exploring Celadon

Hanada: You also work with celadon.

Kotaro Matsuura: I also make several types of celadon. For this one, I applied a glaze similar to ash-glaze celadon over porcelain clay with a high iron content. The decoration uses the paper-stencil technique seen in Imari celadon.
With iron-rich porcelain clay, the white slip patterns come out very clearly. (※This piece is not included in the exhibition)

Hanada: This celadon has a different feel again.

Kotaro Matsuura: I’m aiming for the look of Hisui celadon.
I was influenced by early Northern Song Yue ware and Goryeo celadon.
From there, it takes on the green of Yaozhou ware, a color I really like from that period. It has a wood-ash glaze feel. But it’s not too subdued—it has a restrained brilliance, a quiet elegance combined with subtle liveliness.

For the Exhibition

Hanada: We’re looking forward to your exhibition.

Kotaro Matsuura: I plan to focus mainly on colored and sometsuke pieces, so please look forward to it.

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