Not Fired Clay, but Raw Earth

Hanada: What kind of childhood did you have?

Shinji Hidaka: I loved making things freely from a young age and would spend entire days playing with building blocks. Usually, blocks come in sets with a predetermined outcome, don’t they? I ignored that and just kept making whatever I wanted.

Hanada: So it wasn’t clay? (laughs)

Shinji Hidaka: Strangely enough, I was interested in the color of soil. On my way to and from elementary school, I liked observing it. Yellow earth, red earth… I still remember those landscapes clearly.
There must have been many places back then where you could actually see exposed soil. I was born in Toyota City, Aichi Prefecture, near Sanage. There was always pottery on display at the local cultural center, but I didn’t care for it much.

Hanada: So you preferred raw earth (laughs). And being near Sanage, for a child…

Shinji Hidaka: I remember thinking, “Why would anyone display something that smells so earthy?” (laughs) As a child, jars were unsettling. You can’t see inside them, can you? I recall feeling uneasy, as if something might come out from within.

Hanada: You probably never imagined you would end up making them yourself.

In an Empty Atelier

Shinji Hidaka: In high school I was in the science track and liked mathematics, but I was also strongly drawn to painting. I went to art school and majored in oil painting.

Hanada: What was your life studying oil painting like at university?

Shinji Hidaka: It wasn’t a hands-on environment where everything was carefully taught. Other students stopped coming or dropped out, and I remember painting alone in a nearly empty studio.
In the end, I stayed at the university for seven years, including graduate school and a research period.

From the World of Games to Ceramics

Hanada: What did you do after graduating?

Shinji Hidaka: I had aimed to become a fine artist, and alongside that I began working part-time at a game production company, painting and designing backgrounds for games. At the time, the PlayStation was at its peak, and I found it irresistibly engaging. It felt as though my world had suddenly expanded.
Playing a game I had helped create was immensely satisfying, and I discovered the joy of having many people see what I had made. But after about ten years, I began to feel a certain lack in backgrounds that I had constructed entirely myself and fully understood…

Hanada: With real landscapes, after all, we never fully grasp them to begin with. The scenes of raw earth you observed as a child, the empty studio—those seem to overlap, yet not quite, with the worlds you created yourself…

Shinji Hidaka: Each has its own merits, but at that time I found myself craving a stronger sense of tactility. Also, in game development I was responsible for deeply refining just one part of a larger project. I began to want work that I could oversee from beginning to end on my own.
Around then, a friend who makes tableware let me work with clay. It brought back sensations from childhood, and my interest gradually shifted toward ceramics… That’s how I arrived where I am now.

Hanada: How long has it been since you became independent?

Shinji Hidaka: Eleven years. It was difficult at first, though now I look back on it with some nostalgia. I wasn’t yet confident on the wheel, and I couldn’t create what I envisioned with precision.

Background

Hanada: What is most important to you when creating your work?

Shinji Hidaka: I make it a point to define clearly what I will create, down to the details, before I begin. In the past, whenever I started vaguely, I was never satisfied with the result. It’s similar to painting: if you don’t establish clear criteria at the outset, you lose your decisive standard. Starting from emotion alone can be risky. Of course, emotion is important as well (laughs).

Hanada: You are also particular about your materials.

Shinji Hidaka: I use materials whose origins are clearly identified. I have worked with ash glazes made from clay or mixed woods, but I want to know exactly what kind of wood is included. If something happens, I want to be able to determine the cause myself, and to have a clear understanding of what I am doing.

Hanada: It’s clear how important materials are to your practice.

Shinji Hidaka: Materials are like the background to my work. It’s not just about the clay body itself. The materials determine the background—the world—within which I form shapes or apply imagery.
I recall a flower arrangement teacher once telling me, “When you go into the mountains, bring back not only the flowers but also their background.” That resonated deeply with me.

Hanada: From observing soil on your school route to today, “background” seems to be a key word in your work.

Shinji Hidaka: Perhaps it is.

Goryeo Celadon and Black Glaze

Hanada: Is there anything you would like to pursue going forward?

Shinji Hidaka: I have no intention of making the same things indefinitely. I want to approach new work with a fresh mindset at all times.
In particular, I have long admired Goryeo celadon and would like to capture something of its atmosphere.

Hanada: What draws you to Goryeo celadon?

Shinji Hidaka: Perhaps its sense of another world (laughs).
It feels distant, yet somehow close. I am also repeatedly testing black-glazed tableware.

Hanada: Black can be difficult once you begin to pursue it, can’t it?

Shinji Hidaka: Yes. I have a clear image in mind, but I am still struggling to achieve it.

Hanada: Thank you for sharing your thoughts. We look forward to the exhibition.

Shinji Hidaka: Thank you. Please extend my regards to Haruya Abe.

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