Everyone Looked Like They Were Enjoying Themselves

Hanada: You was born and raised in Tobe, a well-known pottery-producing region.

Shoji Yoshioka: My grandmother worked part-time in slip casting, and just about everyone around us—neighbors and acquaintances—was involved in pottery.
I sometimes got to try making things during summer vacations, and everyone working with ceramics seemed to genuinely enjoy it. By the time I was in junior high school, I knew I wanted to work in sometsuke (underglaze blue painting). So after graduating from high school, I came to Kutani.

Hanada: Why Kutani?

Shoji Yoshioka: There isn’t a school in Tobe, so a lot of people go to Kyushu to train. I figured I’d rather take a different path from everyone else.

To Kutani

Hanada: After the Kutani training institute, you joined Myosen Pottery Studio. How did that come about?

Shoji Yoshioka: I applied through the training institute and had an interview. I didn’t even have a driver’s license back then, so I remember walking seven or eight kilometers to get there.
It was around their 20th year since founding, and they told me stories about when the brothers first started the studio, which were fascinating. Right around that time, they were also working on an Imperial Household Agency commission, and I saw firsthand how incredibly demanding that work was. I feel I was shown something truly invaluable.

Hanada: You must have gained a lot of experience there.

Shoji Yoshioka: Getting used to sitting cross-legged was tough (laughs), but looking back, I think I was fortunate in terms of the working environment.
The hours were regular, and the conditions weren’t bad. Compared to now, I might have had it much easier back then… The work never really ends, though (laughs).

Hanada: Is there anything in particular that left a strong impression on you?

Shoji Yoshioka: There was this enormous plate, and the master did almost all the painting himself, but at one point he said, “Yoshioka, why don’t you try painting this part?” and let me work on it.
You hold it with your left arm while painting… Well, I’m a big guy, so it was kind of like in brass bands where the bigger kids end up playing the double bass or tuba (laughs).

Hanada: I think that means he trusted your skill (laughs).

Shoji Yoshioka: He painted a dragon in the center and had me paint the small patterns around it. Since he had already done so much by then, adding my work afterward was pretty nerve-wracking.

Hanada: There was always the risk of ruining it.

Shoji Yoshioka: Exactly. If I had messed it up, it would have been really bad (laughs).

Working with Sometsuke

Hanada: Were you gradually entrusted with more work?

Shoji Yoshioka: You start with wheel lines and frame lines, but even that is difficult at first. After that, you move on to painting the surrounding motifs. The dami (color-filling) was done by the master’s wife and a part-time worker—they filled in everything we outlined with line work.

Hanada: They must have been very fast.

Shoji Yoshioka: I think working at that speed while doing dami is incredibly difficult. Unlike lines, once it goes wrong, the pigment flows, and there’s no fixing it.

Hanada: What kind of brushes do you use?

Shoji Yoshioka: Completely different from line brushes—very thick ones. You use the same brush for both wide areas and fine parts, just swish, swish. Color-filling is an entirely different skill altogether.

Hanada: In such a strictly divided system, what were you aiming for personally?

Shoji Yoshioka: Simply to work as hard as I could until someone said, “This is fine.” To keep working until I could draw lines that others would trust me with.
At Myosen, multiple people finish a single piece together, so rather than improving as an individual, the goal was for everyone to work together so that the final result felt seamless and unified.

Hanada: What does “good” sometsuke mean to you?

Shoji Yoshioka: It may be basic, but I think it’s important that the pigment doesn’t just sit on the surface, but is absorbed into the clay body.

Hanada: Truly “dyeing” the surface, then. Is that the same for both lines and dami?

Shoji Yoshioka: I think dami is more affected by mindset.
Later on, I realized that the master must have been considering many factors, including the bisque firing temperature, not just the painting technique.

At Kutani Seiyo

Hanada: After that, you joined Kutani Seiyo.

Shoji Yoshioka: I had gone independent for a while, working only on painting, but I felt it would be better if I could also make the clay forms myself. When I talked to my master at Myosen, he introduced me to Seiyo. I was very grateful.
And a few months after I joined, he even stopped by to check if I was doing well… I can’t express how thankful I am.
At the time, though, I was still very immature and didn’t understand much. I took that kind of support for granted back then. I only realized later how difficult it truly is to nurture and look after others.

Hanada: What was Seiyo like?

Shoji Yoshioka: At Seiyo, there’s no division of labor—you finish everything yourself. Someone might be waiting for the pug mill to open up while casually reading a magazine… it was very free. There was absolutely no “do this” or “do that.”

Hanada: There are many highly skilled seniors there. Didn’t they teach you?

Shoji Yoshioka: Not really (laughs). If you asked, they might tell you a little—but that’s about it.

Hanada: Mr. Hata, the head of Kutani Seiyo, doesn’t seem like the type to teach step by step either.

Shoji Yoshioka: Not at all. But Mr. Hata conveys a lot with just a few words. Things like “Don’t make mistakes,” or “Don’t practice during work hours.” Practice isn’t work, in other words.
He also says, “Effort doesn’t translate into money.” Putting in time doesn’t automatically make something better, nor does it justify a higher price. Saying “I worked really hard on this, so it’s expensive” simply doesn’t work.
It’s completely reasonable, of course—but since all I can do is put in the effort, I hope that one day I can truly understand what those words mean through my work.
He also often told us to “create something new.” From there, the good and the bad get sorted, and the good ones remain. So even though it’s tough, you have to keep putting out new work—that’s what he meant.

A Phantom Debut

Hanada: Do you remember the first thing you made at Kutani Seiyo?

Shoji Yoshioka: I tried to make something very “Seiyo-like” at the time, painting plovers or something on a flat plate, but if I saw it now, I think it would look pretty awful.

Hanada: Was it released to the public?

Shoji Yoshioka: No, it wasn’t.

Hanada: A phantom debut, then. Too bad we can’t see it.

Shoji Yoshioka: Honestly, I’d prefer it stayed a phantom (laughs).

Hanada: What was the first piece that did make it out into the world?

Shoji Yoshioka: A round-patterned piece. I was making a lot of them at the time, and that really helped my hands get used to the work.

Making Work That Gets Chosen

Hanada: At Myosen, you learned technique and mindset. At Kutani Seiyo, it seems the goal is to become someone who can truly work as a professional.

Shoji Yoshioka: Back then, I thought rather casually that as long as I improved, there would be work. But at Seiyo, my focus shifted from simply “getting better” to “making good work” and “making work that gets chosen.”
Seiyo—and Mr. Hata—were also the ones who first introduced me to antiques as reference material for that purpose.

Hanada: Do you look at them when the timing feels right?

Shoji Yoshioka: No, they’re just placed around casually. He also took us to places like the Nara National Museum and shops in Tokyo.

Hanada: Mr. Hata often brought younger Seiyo members to Hanada as well.

Shoji Yoshioka: Eventually, I went to Taiwan’s National Palace Museum with some of my juniors from Seiyo. Being proactive about seeing things like that is something I learned thanks to Mr. Hata.

Because It’s Yoshioka

Hanada: Listening to you, I strongly sense that both Mr. Yamamoto of Myosen and Mr. Hata of Kutani Seiyo truly cared about nurturing others.

Shoji Yoshioka: They’re completely different types, but both are incredibly caring. When I held my first solo exhibition at Hanada, my master even sent flowers. Mr. Hata doesn’t praise much, but he quietly watches over you—and that meant a great deal to me.

Believing and Continuing

Hanada: You create both classical works and pop, casual ones. You’ve said before that it’s not that you prefer one over the other, but that you want to keep making both.

Shoji Yoshioka: If I had to say what I love most, it’s sometsuke. Within what’s being asked of me, I want to do my absolute best while making use of what I know and what I can do.

Hanada: Is there anything you value most when creating tableware?

Shoji Yoshioka: I want to make tableware that makes meals at home more enjoyable simply by being there. If eating at home is something to look forward to, your spirits don’t sink as easily.

Hanada: And in terms of your process?

Shoji Yoshioka: I keep putting into practice what I’ve learned, in my own way. Once, a senior told me, “Finish chamfering the edge of the foot in a single pass.” I felt that was about decisiveness.
Or someone said, “Try drawing a line slowly, as if it were drawn in a swift motion.” There are a few words like that which really resonated with me at the time. If I incorporate those ideas into my work, I feel the piece naturally takes on that kind of presence.
I can’t say that path is neatly organized in my mind, nor do I know if that feeling is conveyed to those who use my pieces, but I believe in it and continue creating.

Hanada: I truly respect that you continue while holding onto that belief.

Shoji Yoshioka: No, really—it’s because the people I’ve been involved with were so wonderful that I can enjoy the work. I’ve been looked after so much. Now it’s my turn to be that person for my juniors.

I Shouldn’t Have Asked…

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

Shoji Yoshioka: I’m thinking about developing new glazes with a different feel. I think it could really change the overall impression, and I hope it leads to better work.

Hanada: Are there specific materials you’re considering?

Shoji Yoshioka: When I mentioned natural ash, some seniors said, “The materials vary each time, so it’s hard to control.” Others said, “If you’re going to buy a lifetime’s worth at once, natural is fine.” Then when I thought, “I can’t secure a lifetime supply, so maybe I’ll go synthetic,” a junior said, “What, Yoshioka-san, you’re using synthetic?”—in a way that sounded almost mocking. I shouldn’t have asked anyone (laughs).

Hanada: (Laughs.) We’re looking forward to it.