The More You Look at It…

Hanada: This time, Mr. Abe will be taking over the production of this hexagonal small plate originally created by Mr. Adachi. This piece is slightly deeper than a typical small plate, which makes it incredibly practical. It is perfect for condiments, of course, but it is also a wonderful item for turning last night’s leftovers into a proper side dish. With a beautiful variety of colors available, it is also a joy to use several of them arranged together on the table.

Haruya Abe : The more you look at it, the more you realize how masterfully crafted it is in every aspect as a piece of tableware. Precisely because the shape is so simple, making it truly your own must be exceptionally difficult. Yet, while it poses a challenge, I believe that if one can craft it well, it is an item that will endure over time.

Kazuharu Adachi : I made several prototypes at the beginning. Even after that, it went through about three minor adjustments before reaching its current form.

Hanada: You also experimented with a few different production methods, didn’t you?

Kazuharu Adachi : In the end, I decided to shape it on the pottery wheel first, and then press it into a plaster mold using the hikiuchi technique.

Haruya Abe : So you shape it on the wheel first.

Kazuharu Adachi : It depends on the clay, but if you use the tatara (slab) method, the piece tends to warp, which is why I chose hikiuchi. Of course, the slab method has its own distinct merits, so it ultimately comes down to the ingenuity of the artist.

Hanada: Much of ceramics involves building upon the past—reproducing historical works, drawing inspiration from them, or transforming their essence. The same applies to this hexagonal plate, but in this unique case, the person who has been making it all this time is right here in front of us.

Haruya Abe : To be honest, from the moment I saw the sample the other day until today, I had a specific production method in mind. But listening to Adachi-san just now has sent me right back to square one (laughs). I will have to go home and rethink it. After all, just because his method works for his clay doesn’t mean it will translate directly to the porcelain I work with.

An Inevitable Transition

Hanada: I am so pleased that both of you readily agreed to pass on the production of this piece.

Haruya Abe : Right now, I feel a deep sense of pressure in taking over something that Adachi-san has crafted for so long, but at the same time, I feel immensely grateful that he has given me his blessing to do so.

Kazuharu Adachi : The gratitude is entirely mine. I remember reading a magazine interview from a long time ago featuring a young artist. When asked what kind of artist they wanted to become, they replied, “I want to create at least one signature piece—something where people look at it and instantly know I made it—and leave that behind.” When I received the email from Hanada asking how I would feel about passing this hexagonal plate on to Haruya Abe-san, that quote immediately came to mind. I entered ceramic school at forty-six and spent twenty-five years working in pottery. In the world of ceramics, that is a very short time. I could never claim to have anything close to a signature piece. No, not a single one. However, if one of the few items I did create can be passed on through Abe-san’s hands and continue to reach customers, then even if it isn’t a signature piece, the act of being “passed on” connects beautifully with that young artist’s words. It made me incredibly happy. Matsui-san’s email seemed filled with a slight hesitation, as if worried I might say, “This is my creation, and I refuse to let anyone else make it.” But from my perspective, that wasn’t the case at all—I am simply profoundly grateful.

Hanada: You saw right through me (laughs).

Kazuharu Adachi : Of course I did (laughs). This plate doesn’t have a grand design; it is a very ordinary, humble piece. Even so, knowing that the next generation will continue to make it brings me immense joy.

Haruya Abe : Now I am starting to feel nervous (laughs).

Hanada: Knowing that you both have your own philosophies and feelings, I did spend a lot of time thinking about how best to propose this. Depending on how one looks at it, such a request could potentially cause discomfort to either side. It is one thing to look to antiques for inspiration, but asking an artist to build upon the work of someone who has only just stepped away can be a delicate matter.

Haruya Abe : Antiques have survived to the present day precisely because they are exceptional pieces. In this case, the time span is simply much shorter, but in essence, it is exactly the same. It is only natural for beautiful items to endure, and I feel very fortunate that I can play even a small part in that process.

Hanada: For my part, rather than seeing an exact visual replica, I hope that the comfort of using this plate and the joy of choosing from its many colors will be carried forward, even as the form evolves slightly over time. It would be wonderful if the spirit and creative energy Adachi-san felt when making this small plate are what truly live on.

Our Respective “Futures”

Hanada: Adachi-san, you entered ceramic school at forty-six. I am forty-eight now, and I cannot imagine my two-years-younger self deciding to pursue a completely different path and going to school to learn it from scratch.

Haruya Abe : I haven’t even taken a step toward a school like that myself (laughs).

Hanada: And then, you chose to step away from pottery just as decisively.

Haruya Abe : I watched the video interview about the closing of your kiln. While I found it incredibly admirable, I also really wanted to ask about the mindset that led you to that final decision.

Kazuharu Adachi : There is really no dramatic story that would shock anyone.

Hanada: Walking away isn’t the only option, and for some, continuing until they reach their absolute limit is a valid path. Rather than the answer itself, it was your way of making that choice, Adachi-san, that felt deeply inspiring to me. It felt grounded in reality yet intensely intuitive—perhaps because you are already looking toward what lies ahead. Because you have things you want to do next, and a strong desire to keep living your life to the fullest. You also mentioned wanting to teach pottery to children.

Haruya Abe : I think your ability to step back and look at yourself objectively is truly remarkable.

Kazuharu Adachi : To put it in slightly philosophical terms, I suppose I just want to be able to feel that I lived my life exactly the way I wanted to. I reached a place of contentment by making pottery my profession, and that kind of fulfillment has nothing to do with age. It doesn’t matter if you are in your twenties, thirties, forties, or fifties—when that moment of clarity comes, it comes. Even in your seventies (laughs). Rather than worrying about whether others see it as a success or failure, I think I have simply always tried to live true to myself.

Staying Mindful

Kazuharu Adachi : Since you have both spoken so highly of me, do you mind if I share two of my past professional envies?

Hanada: Envies… (laughs). Please, go ahead.

Kazuharu Adachi : They were my envy toward those born into pottery families, and my envy toward those with innate talent. First, regarding the former, there were many sons of pottery studio owners or ceramic artists at the school. Compared to an outsider like me, it felt as though they were starting a hundred-meter dash fifty or sixty meters ahead of everyone else. Pottery requires a significant financial investment to even begin. It isn’t like being a novelist, where you can start with nothing more than a single wooden crate to sit on. Beyond the necessary skills, you need a workshop, a wheel, a kiln, and materials—having all of those in place is what it means to reach the starting line. I certainly felt a sense of envy toward those who had those things from the very beginning. Among my classmates, there were some who had incredible talent but had to give up pottery solely due to financial reasons.

Hanada: It seems there are various support systems available these days, though.

Kazuharu Adachi : My other envy was directed toward talent itself. When a truly gifted person creates a jar or a plate, the result turns out completely different from what I made, even though we were supposed to be learning the exact same things. At the time, I believed it was pure, natural talent. However, as I continued with pottery for five, ten years and looked closely at many historical pieces, I began to notice a common thread in the work of those talented individuals. I realized they were looking deeply at historical wares like Old Bizen, Old Karatsu, Yayoi, and Jomon pottery, or even international works, and putting in immense effort to absorb those elements into their own craft. When it comes to whether talent exists, of course it does. But more than that, they were simply working harder than anyone else. My perspective was nothing but envy, and it was a complete misunderstanding on my part. This goes back to when I was living in Seto right after graduating from ceramic school. We had finished firing a kiln as usual, and I was out drinking with my peers, saying how exhausted I was. We were complaining about our seniors and mentors, and criticizing other people’s work (laughs). On my way home after drinking, I passed the studio of an artist who is now highly sought after, including at Hanada. Their studio light was the only one still burning. While we were wrapping up around eight or nine because “it was getting late” and going out for drinks, the light in that studio was always on. They were undoubtedly putting in that level of effort. And what made our drinking group even worse was that by the next day, we had completely forgotten that realization.

Hanada: (Laughs).

Kazuharu Adachi : My belief that they started fifty meters ahead in a hundred-meter dash was entirely wrong. Ultimately, it was a reflection of my own shortcomings for not accumulating that same level of dedication. It really just came down to my own envy. My twenty-five years in pottery were spent wrestling with those thoughts and gradually realizing my mistakes. So, I don’t feel any envy toward Abe-san today just because he is the son of an artist.

Haruya Abe : I am relieved to hear that (laughs). When I went independent, I had to prepare everything myself, so in that sense, I didn’t necessarily have a head start. However, I do feel that I unconsciously learned my approach and attitude toward the craft from my father. The things that make me feel truly fortunate tend to be those that cannot be seen or measured.

The Hexagonal Small Plate Moves Forward

Hanada: I am truly looking forward to seeing how this hexagonal small plate begins its next chapter.

Kazuharu Adachi : As I step away without leaving behind a single signature piece, knowing that one of my daily creations is being carried forward is something I am deeply grateful for.

Haruya Abe : I will give it my absolute best.

≪ END ≫