[Interview with Ceramic Artist Yusuke Umakawa – Part 1] Letting Thoughts Settle Slowly

— To begin, could you tell us how you first encountered ceramics?

My father was a ceramic artist, so our workshop was right next to the house.
When I was a child, I sometimes played there with my friends—
kneading clay, making small figures out of it.
Only once in a while, though.

I’ve always liked creating things,
so when it came time to choose a path for university,
I simply felt, maybe I’ll give it a try.
But somehow, I felt shy about telling my parents. (laughs)

I still clearly remember the surprised look on their faces
when I finally told them I wanted to study ceramics
and attend an art school.

— So being surrounded by an environment of making things had a big influence on you.

Yes, I think so.

I’ve always enjoyed creating things myself,
but having my father nearby—someone who was constantly making—
definitely had a strong influence on me.

That said, what we make is quite different.
My father’s works tend to be simple and elegant,
with clean, refined lines.

As for me, I’m more inclined to explore
ways of expressing something new—something that feels true to myself.

— What does an ideal vessel mean to you, Mr. Umakawa?

For me, what matters most is whether the vessel can contain my own expression.

So rather than being “a vessel for others,”
it’s more like “a vessel as a form of self-expression.”

When you think about it in terms of pouring your thoughts into it,
there isn’t much difference between a vessel and an object.

I borrow the shape of a vessel,
and within it, I enclose what lies inside myself—
that’s the feeling I work with.

— An object created in the past

— What kinds of themes do you explore in your work?

My themes change from time to time.

In the past, they often revolved around plants or nature,
but recently, the theme has become people.

I’m not a particularly social person (laughs),
so I often find myself wondering what others are thinking.

That’s why I sometimes draw faces or incorporate human forms into my pieces.

When I depict a person, I pay close attention to their expression.
Just by changing the shape of the eyes or mouth slightly,
the entire expression transforms.

Some look as if they’re smiling,
some seem angry,
and others wear faces completely devoid of thought.

As I continue creating in this way,
I feel as though I might eventually find my own answer
to the question, “What does it mean to be human?”

— Cups with a variety of expressions

— Could you tell us about your style of making? I hear you’re particular about hand-building.

Yes, that’s right. I don’t use a potter’s wheel — everything is hand-built, shaped only with my hands and wooden tools.

The wheel moves too fast for me; its pace doesn’t match my own rhythm.

Hand-building takes time, but as I slowly build up the form,
I feel as though my thoughts gradually seep into the clay itself.

I like that sense of harmony —
when the speed at which the form takes shape
and the speed at which my thoughts deepen
align perfectly.

— The clay you use also seems to have a distinctive character.

Yes, that’s true. I like to work with coarse, rugged clay.
It gives the surface a richer expression once it’s fired.

My works often have a lot of color and a somewhat pop-like impression,
so if the clay itself were too refined, it might end up looking like a toy.

That contrast — between the rough clay and the playful decoration —
creates, paradoxically, just the right balance for me.

— Are there any artists who have influenced you?

Yes — Friedensreich Hundertwasser, Tarō Okamoto, and Hayao Miyazaki.
These three have had a profound influence on me.

What they all share, I think, is a deep concern for how human beings exist within nature.
That idea resonates strongly with me,
and it has always been at the core of my own creative process.

 

The second part of this interview will be published tomorrow.