[Lacquer artist: Sachiko Yano] The work of painting time

I visited Shiga Prefecture on a snowy day.

Under the cloudy sky, the cold air clings to your skin, and your breath quickly dissolves into a white cloud.

A thin layer of new snow lay beneath my feet, and with each step, the sensation, rather than the sound, changed slightly.

That day we visited the studio of lacquer artist Sachiko Yano.

The workshop, located on the second floor of their home, was renovated by her and her husband.

Rather than being a special production facility, the production space is an extension of everyday life.

As we climbed the stairs, our pace as visitors also increased.

It felt as though I was gradually blending into the time that passed in this house.

When you open the door, the heat from the kerosene stove reaches your body.

Because it was so cold outside, the temperature was clearly visible.

The faint scent of lacquer wafts through the air,

Before words even begin to speak, we are made aware that this is a place where life and art naturally overlap.

As the shoot neared the middle, Yano prepared rice balls and a warm stew.

There are no explanatory words attached, just what you need, when you need it, placed there casually.

In between, apart from his time as a lacquer artist,

The sense of someone who has raised children in their daily lives was evident.

I too was able to relax and just let myself go.

The shelves are lined with finished soup bowls and vessels in the making.

Delicate designs and intricate patterns are layered on top of washi paper,

The glossy parts and the soft expression were layered in one vessel.

Rather than strongly reflecting light, the texture first absorbs it and then reflects it back from deep within.

The depth of the piece gives a sense of the many processes that have gone into making it.

Lacquer work is not something that can be completed in a day.

It takes about a year from the start of production to complete one soup bowl.

Apply, let dry, sand, and apply again.

As this process is repeated, the vessel gradually takes on a more defined appearance, as if confirming its contours.

When I saw him work, I was impressed by the precision of his brush strokes and the breathtakingly delicate movements.

During this intense period of concentration, layers of lacquer are applied without interruption.

The move you make today will determine how you look in a few months or a year.

This awareness seemed to support the intensity of the work from within.

When you pick up the finished soup bowl, the first thing you notice is the lightness that only wood can provide.

But that's not frivolous at all.

The vessels fit naturally in the hand, and the layers of paint that have been applied over time are conveyed as a definite weight.

The surface seems to stick to your fingertips, and the act of holding it itself becomes a dialogue with the vessel.

It felt like our relationship would deepen even further as we used it at our dinner table every day.

The words exchanged during the production breaks were very similar to the works themselves.

I think, put it into words, and think again. What I speak about is always my own experience.

These words are used to check the other person's condition, but are not words used to adapt to them.

This way of being seemed to shape the atmosphere of this workshop.

Outside the window, the snow continues to fall.

Each piece is so light that it seems as if it would disappear immediately upon touch.

Still, as the snow accumulates over time, the landscape is gradually rewritten.

Before I knew it, the scene was overlapping with the process of layers of lacquer being applied.

Leaving the workshop, I once again found myself in the cold air.

I will notice that the landscape looks slightly different.

Don't rush, wait and do things one by one.

This feeling was quietly reflected in the speed at which the snow piled up and the varying shades of white.

The time spent at Sachiko's workshop will not leave a tangible legacy to take home.

Still, I suddenly remembered,

It adds a little more depth to the scenery you are looking at.

It left such a lasting impression.