I Wandered Around and Found the Ceramics Club

Hanada: How did you first enter the world of ceramics?

Shigetaka Suzuki: The Tokyo National Museum near my high school was part of my walking route, so I used to drop in from time to time. Especially the permanent exhibitions…
Back then, admission was just 50 yen. I’ve lost count of how many times I visited the Horyuji Treasures Gallery.
Also, on the way from my family home to Nihonbashi Mitsukoshi, there were about three antique shops. My house itself only had junk (laughs), but the surrounding environment was full of interesting things.

Hanada: What did your family do?

Shigetaka Suzuki: We were wholesalers of knitwear, in the same line of business as Etoile Kaito.
Now the area is full of apartment buildings, but back then Bakurocho was a wholesale district.
Brings back memories. Anyway, I only got seriously into ceramics at a university club.
On the day of the entrance ceremony, clubs and circles set up booths in the courtyard, right?
At first I went to the art society, but they were all just painting.

Hanada: That’s not necessarily a bad thing (laughs).

Shigetaka Suzuki: True. But I wanted to work in three dimensions, so I wandered around and came across the ceramics club.
As we talked, I realized I could make whatever I wanted… Though, that’s not much of a story, is it…

Hanada: That’s perfectly fine. What kind of things were you making there?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Whatever came to hand. In that sense, nothing has changed (laughs).

Hanada: What kind of ceramics did you like at the time?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Completely Tang dynasty—Chinese celadon. From there, I came to like pieces up through the Song period as well…

One “A” Short…

Hanada: And that led you to become an apprentice under Kaiji Tsukamoto?

Shigetaka Suzuki: During my job search in my fourth year, I traveled around pottery regions all over Japan. Among them, I felt his studio was the right place for me.

Hanada: Did you ever consider getting a regular job after graduation? Your major was economics, right?

Shigetaka Suzuki: I originally wanted to join a bank and become a businessperson, but there was the oil shock…
Also, to apply to city banks, you needed 20 top grades by your third year, and I fell short.
I had 19…

Hanada: Really? (laughs)

Shigetaka Suzuki: Sounds too convenient, doesn’t it? (laughs) But it’s true. In any case, I just thought, “Well, never mind.”
So I started working part-time to fund my trips to pottery regions across the country.

Fast and Skillful

Hanada: Did you just show up at Tsukamoto’s place out of the blue?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Yes. I had actually been there once before with friends from the ceramics club. We also visited places around there, like Toyozo Arakawa.

Hanada: Would he really meet students who just showed up?

Shigetaka Suzuki: It’s the opposite—he would meet us because we were students.
If you were already working, you couldn’t just go empty-handed without an introduction.
Students get a pass on that kind of thing.

Hanada: A privilege.

Shigetaka Suzuki: Exactly—and he’d even treat us to meals (laughs).
One of the guys I went with was quite bold and kept making requests. Eventually he even said, “Could you demonstrate that carving?”

Hanada: That’s exactly what you’d want to see.

Shigetaka Suzuki: I was like, “Hey, that’s a bit much,” but…

Hanada: While secretly thinking, “Well said!” (laughs)

Shigetaka Suzuki: Exactly (laughs). And Tsukamoto actually did it. I was deeply impressed. I thought, “This person is extraordinary.”

Hanada: Was it the act itself, or his technical skill?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Both. Without drawing any under-sketch, he started carving a peony design straight away. It was incredibly fast—just fast and precise.

Effort and Consideration

Hanada: How was your time at his studio?

Shigetaka Suzuki: At first, I mostly did miscellaneous tasks, but eventually I was allowed to assist with his work.
He often entrusted me with hands-on work like using the wheel.

Hanada: So you were well regarded.

Shigetaka Suzuki: Hard to say. I hope so (laughs).

Hanada: What was his work style like?

Shigetaka Suzuki: He was astonishingly diligent. He probably didn’t think of it as effort himself.
Back then, he was about my current age, and I’m amazed he worked without seeming to tire. Also, he treated guests with genuine courtesy.

Hanada: I sense that same hospitality in you. You always prepare so thoughtfully.

Shigetaka Suzuki: Just by chance (laughs). But I do think consideration for others is important.

The Work of a Professional

Hanada: What did you learn technically?

Shigetaka Suzuki: What struck me as professional was how he always diversified risk.
For example, when mixing glazes, he would use multiple types of silica, lime, and feldspar.
That way, if the quality of one source changed, another could compensate.

Hanada: Always having a Plan B.

Shigetaka Suzuki: In making things, you steadily eliminate the reasons or excuses for failure.

Hanada: That’s professionalism.

Shigetaka Suzuki: I learned a great deal about glazes.
I wasn’t allowed to handle the final mixing, but I learned the process and gained a sense of direction. I still feel confident about porcelain in particular.

Hanada: Trained under Tsukamoto.

Shigetaka Suzuki: It should be close to his formulation.
I also learned carving techniques there, like lotus-petal motifs, as well as glazing methods.
Those fine technical details aren’t something you can grasp just by briefly observing.
I’m glad I had that experience.

The Rationality of the World

Hanada: It sounds like a meaningful time.

Shigetaka Suzuki: I was scolded often too (laughs).
It was an apprenticeship—if the master said something white was black, then it was black.
One day he told me, “We don’t need this clay anymore, throw it away.”
So I did, and later he said, “Why did you throw it away?” (laughs)

Hanada: That sounds familiar (laughs). Something everyone experiences at least once.

Shigetaka Suzuki: That’s when I realized: school is where you learn the rationality of the world, and afterward, you keep learning its irrationality.
At that point, even what you learned as “rational” in school starts to seem less so (laughs).

Hanada: Both are important.

Finally Independent

Hanada: And then you became independent after two years.

Shigetaka Suzuki: From the moment I arrived, the factory manager told me, “What are you doing here? You should build your own kiln as soon as possible.”
In the end, you have to go independent, try things yourself, and learn from your own mistakes.
That said, I didn’t have the money to do so (laughs).
So I worked for three years selling electronics in Akihabara, saved about six million yen, and then started preparing for independence.

Hanada: You’re good at making all sorts of things, too.

Shigetaka Suzuki: It’s not that I could do it from the start—I had no choice (laughs).
I had no money, so to make an abandoned house livable, I had to do everything myself.
Looking back, it was quite enjoyable.

Hanada: And eventually you started building pizza ovens.

Shigetaka Suzuki: Pizza, paella… I think I’ve built around ten kilns in total.
Roofing, baths, toilets—I did everything myself.

Hanada: Ten kilns?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Ready-made ones are fine, but they’re hard to repair or modify.
If you build them yourself, you can easily take them apart.
Especially wood-fired kilns—I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve dismantled them.
Since ceramics are even referred to as “yakimono”, firing is the most essential part. being able to adjust that process yourself is valuable.

Memories of the Half-Moon Plate

Hanada: Is there any piece you’ve made that stands out to you?

Shigetaka Suzuki: If I had to choose, the half-moon plate.

Shigetaka Suzuki: I’ve never made so many of one thing before or since (laughs). They were produced in batches of 500.
Just for Hanada alone, there must have been several thousand pieces. At one point I even said, “I’ve had enough” (laughs).
Then Hanada’s predecessor said something like, “There’s a world you can only see by making a lot.”

Hanada: (laughs) Even after making 1,000, you still can’t see it—so how many does it take?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Normally, 1,000 would already count as “a lot” (laughs).

Enjoying Life

Hanada: What are your thoughts going forward?

Shigetaka Suzuki: I want to keep doing refined work.

Hanada: As expected of someone from Kanda.

Shigetaka Suzuki: And I want to stay relaxed about it. If I stick to one genre too long, my work tends to become overly meticulous and gradually more complicated.
Unless I reset with something different, it becomes less interesting. Not just ceramics—repairing houses, making chopsticks or spoons in wood… Those activities feed back into my work.

Hanada: More on a mental level?

Shigetaka Suzuki: Yes. There’s a technical aspect too, but above all, the sense of “enjoying life” is what matters most.

Hanada: That idea of “enjoying life” is expressed through this place and your work.

Shigetaka Suzuki: Hosting outdoor parties here is one example. It’s fun because the setting differs from indoors.
Guests also enjoy using my tableware. Of course, people casually suggest things like “You should run a guesthouse” or “A cooking class would be great.”

Hanada: Including me, most of those “ideas” are pretty irresponsible (laughs).

Shigetaka Suzuki: If I were in their position, I’d definitely say the same (laughs).

View all works by Shigetaka Suzuki