Marbles

Hanada: Please tell us about your path to becoming a glass artist.

Tomoya Ichikawa: Back then, it was the employment ice age, and I also thought, “Knowing my personality, if I choose an office job where I have to wear a tie, I’ll probably quit right away.”
But I had to work, and I didn’t want to quit easily. I didn’t want to make excuses either.
“So if it’s a job I choose because I love it…”—that was the answer I reached at the time.

Hanada: What were you interested in at that time?

Tomoya Ichikawa: Vintage clothing.
At the time, Levi’s 501XX and the like were very popular.
A classmate from middle school already had a shop in Amerika-mura (Osaka), so I decided to work there.
I enjoyed customer service itself, but the evaluations were not about style—they were purely about whether the item was old.
Even if jeans were oversized or too tight, people would value them just because they were from “the WWII model,” and boots were the same… everyone looked like Mickey Mouse because the sizes were huge. I kept thinking, “This is definitely weird.”

Hanada: (laughs)

Tomoya Ichikawa: One day, while thinking about my future alone in my room, my eyes landed on a large glass bowl full of marbles I used to collect in elementary school.
Even though I had left almost everything at my parents’ house when living alone, for some reason I had brought only that with me…

Hanada: Those things tend to catch your eye at moments like that.

Just at the Level of “I Like Glass”

Tomoya Ichikawa: After that, all I could imagine was myself blowing glass (laughs).
At the library, I found a thick encyclopedia-like book that had “Edo Kiriko,” “Satsuma Kiriko,” and “Hizen Vidro.”
I heard Satsuma Kiriko only accepted local people, so next I contacted Hizen Vidro in Saga, and they said, “Come anytime.”
So I thought, “Saga is okay then!” and the next day I called again saying, “I got a Shinkansen ticket, so I’ll come tomorrow.” Then they were like, “Where on earth are you coming from?”
Apparently they had misheard Shiga as Saga. When I said, “I’m from Shiga,” they replied, “We only take people from Saga.”

Hanada: (laughs)

Tomoya Ichikawa: Then I called what I thought was Edo Kiriko, but it turned out to be some glass-related association, and the conversation kept going nowhere.
They asked, “What do you want to do in glass?” but since I knew nothing, all I could say was, “Well… something with glass,” so they probably thought I was an idiot.
Eventually, they introduced me to a glass factory in Tokyo.
When I arrived, it was a huge factory.
The president looked at the workers and said, “These guys rotate from time to time. Some just disappear, but the total number stays the same, so it’s fine.”
They told me to live in the dorm with those “rotating” people, which scared me, so I desperately searched for the next place and found a factory in Osaka.
At that point, it wasn’t even about “liking glass”—I just wanted a place where I wouldn’t have to quit (laughs).

So Many Shocking People

Hanada: How was the Osaka factory?

Tomoya Ichikawa: When I went for the interview, there were a bunch of intimidating people, but when I returned a week later for my first day of work, all of them were gone.
The president said, “Business is bad, so I fired all of them first.”
They were skilled but unbelievable people.
One said, “My wife left for the public bath three years ago and hasn’t come back.”
And since glass factories use heat, they usually have a big bath, but in the changing room, someone was living there (laughs).
Those guys—Mr. Matsuda and someone named Higashi something—would take me drinking on Saturday nights.
Even though they looked shabby at the factory, they suddenly looked cool with neatly parted hair when going out.
But at the bar, they used different names (laughs).
And they’d get angry: “Don’t call me Matsuda.”
It was my first time meeting someone living under an alias.
Let me tell you the craziest story of them all.

Hanada: There’s an even crazier one?

Tomoya Ichikawa: There was a quiet, skilled craftsman who used to polish crystal in Yamanashi. Compared to that, polishing glass was very easy for him.
He was a thin old man and a twin. The older twin was more skilled but alcoholic… so he came and went inconsistently.
When he didn’t show up, we had to go call him at home. One day, no matter how many times we called him, he wouldn’t wake up, so the president got irritated and said, “I’ll go.”
Then the president didn’t come back either.
In the evening he returned angrily, saying, “He was dead. And at the busiest time!”
Back then I thought, “Someone just died and that’s what you say…?” but now I feel—though it may sound inappropriate—that I witnessed something fundamental about “living.” It was a tough but real world.

Easy to Say, Hard to Do

Hanada: Even with everything, it was a job you chose because you loved it.

Tomoya Ichikawa: Exactly. That’s why I could endure it.
At lectures for young people, they often say, “First, find what you love.”
It’s easy to say but the hardest thing to do. But that’s exactly where I started.
It took time at first, but I was fortunate.

Hanada: It must have been difficult at the beginning.

Tomoya Ichikawa: It was tough.
I couldn’t do anything, so while walking the factory dog or making deliveries, I’d see people my age, clearly new office workers, walking in suits looking lively.
Even though I had chosen not to wear a suit, I envied them terribly.
And then I hated myself for feeling that way.

The Story of the Ponte

Tomoya Ichikawa: The Osaka factory’s business declined after the bubble burst, so I began looking for a glass studio.
Every time I called, they’d ask, “Can you do ponte?”
But the factory I’d been in used molds, so there was no need for ponte, meaning I had no idea what it was.
When I answered, “No,” they’d reject me on the spot.
So I thought, “Apparently ponte is important,” and started saying, “Sometimes I can, sometimes I can’t.”

Hanada: (laughs)

Tomoya Ichikawa: There’s absolutely no such thing as sometimes being able to do ponte and sometimes not (laughs).
They probably thought I was even more of an idiot.
Eventually, while making a custom piece by chance, someone said, “This is ponte.”
And I thought, “Ah, so this is the famous ponte” (laughs).

Hanada: So you could finally pass the phone interviews.

Tomoya Ichikawa: Sometime later, I called Mr. Kuniaki Kuroki’s studio.
“I’m working at a small factory now. I can do ponte,” I said.
Mr. Kuroki himself had worked his way up from factories and was looking for someone like that, so I fit perfectly.
He said, “Come visit.” I practiced ponte desperately, thinking he’d make me do it.
When I arrived, he said, “Let’s go eat,” and despite not being able to drink alcohol, I kept thinking, “When is he going to make me do ponte?”
In the end, he just said, “You should get going to catch your flight,” and I thought, “Wait, there was no ponte!” (laughs).After organizing things, I quit the Osaka factory.

Hanada: The president must have been sad.

Tomoya Ichikawa: He said, “You’re quitting? At the busiest time!?” (laughs)

A New Environment

Hanada: You began working under Mr. Kuroki in a completely different environment.

Tomoya Ichikawa: I wanted to blow glass, but three others were ahead of me. Still, I thought, “I will not lose.”

Hanada: Because you had survived tough environments.

Tomoya Ichikawa: Yes. So whenever Mr. Kuroki said, “Want to try this?” others hesitated, but I felt grateful for any chance and raised my hand immediately, even on days off.
Eventually, after about six months, I was allowed to blow glass.

Hanada: Your attitude toward work was recognized.

Tomoya Ichikawa: I enjoyed it. I always thought, “There is something I want to do here.”
On days off, I could practice, and Mr. Kuroki always acknowledged what we did.
I once dreamed of becoming his right-hand or foreman, but when I thought about the future I wanted, I knew I needed to work under my own name someday.
So I consulted him and decided to move to Toyama Glass Studio.

Hanada: How long were you with Mr. Kuroki?

Tomoya Ichikawa: Fourteen years.

To Toyama

Hanada: And again, Toyama was a new environment.

Tomoya Ichikawa: I had pride in having worked under Mr. Kuroki, and his pieces—even expensive vases—sold one after another.
His fans also praised us apprentices, so it was easy to get the wrong idea.
I knew I shouldn’t let that happen, but I probably had already become that way.
When I tried making my own pieces, they turned out like copies of his, and when I forced myself to change them, they were just… strange.
At the studio’s newcomer exhibition, I was excited to “make whatever I liked,” but my peers’ works were clearly more appealing. I deeply realized that technique alone wasn’t enough.
Two years later, during a glass studio exhibition at a Tokyo department store, you stopped by.
But you asked, “Can you introduce me to another artist?” and left.
I thought, “What, not me?” (laughs).

Hanada: My apologies (laughs).

Tomoya Ichikawa: No, it helped me understand exactly where I stood, and I appreciated the honesty.
A year later, at my solo exhibition, you came again. And now here we are.

Hanada: It has been ten years since then.

Enjoyable and Careful

Hanada: What are the fundamentals you value in making things?

Tomoya Ichikawa: Tableware should follow standard proportions.
For cups, I decide what drink they are meant for, and then design accordingly.
Also: “enjoyably” and “carefully.”

Hanada: What do you mean by “enjoyably”?

Tomoya Ichikawa: Feeling genuinely excited about what I’m making, recalling conversations with customers—things like that.
Being “careful” is easy if you’re mindful. But “enjoyable” is harder.
I finally feel I’ve reached a stage where I can think about such things.

Hanada: Anything technical you think about?

Tomoya Ichikawa: Technically, these methods have existed since the ancient civilizations. They haven’t changed dramatically.
Even if I try something new, most of the time I find it already existed. It’s incredible.

The Sun Series

Hanada: Among the works you’ve made, which hold special meaning?

Tomoya Ichikawa: The Sun Series. After becoming independent, I wanted to create everyday glassware. Even if I removed decoration, I needed a core element, so I made this series.
When I looked inside after finishing one, it sparkled so brilliantly that I thought, “Wow, this is amazing!”
And people who saw them felt the same way.
Feeling that my sense connected with others gave me fulfillment, and I finally felt I had made something I could call my own work.

Hanada: We look forward to your two-person exhibition with Haruya Abe.

Tomoya Ichikawa: I’m considering making 7- and 8-sun plates that would work beautifully with cold noodles.

Hanada: I look forward to seeing them at the exhibition. Thank you.

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