The world’s finest dinner set – for 2,000 guests! Hyaku: Review of over 100 makers from Japan | culture

AIn response to pessimistic speculation about AI dominating human creativity, it is momentarily comforting to count the things that AI cannot do. She cannot throw pot, blow glass, strike metal, weave bamboo, or turn wood. And perhaps, when it assumes absolute control over human consciousness and mass production machines, it will be able to do so. But today, throwing a bowl and weighing its weight with your hand, or carving a tray and determining its size by eye, are still the preserve of skilled craftsmen, using techniques known by their distant ancestors.

On display at Japan House in London are the works of more than 100 pairs of eyes and hands, a profusion of human creativity, assembled in a gallery of succinct simplicity. About 2,000 objects — bowls, trays, cups, metalware, glassware, and some puzzling bamboo cocoons — are assembled, according to their makers, on long, dimly lit display tables. At first glance, you might think you’ve found a special John Lewis homewares section, but then you notice the delicate black and red lacquered work, the shiny gold inside a perfectly shaped sake cup, bamboo intricacies and some eccentrically shaped vessels, such as strange seed pods, which look like ceramic but turn out to be a kind of fossilized skin.

Craftsmanship, which gives raw materials practical and beautiful shape, has been a part of Japanese life for centuries. However, historically, formal craft products e.g Oroshi Lacquerware and metalwork were conceived as expensive artefacts to be admired, beyond the reach of ordinary people. It wasn’t until the 1920s that the popular crafts movement known as Mingi, He refocused attention on the humble beauty of utilitarian, handcrafted objects.

Today, despite the spread of industrial production, craftsmen throughout Japan continue to make everyday tools and utensils, using traditional methods that respond to the special qualities of the materials they choose. No two crafts are the same, and each craftsman brings a unique imprint to the creative process.

In a two-year odyssey, the exhibition’s curator, Nagata Takahiro, traveled throughout Japan, searching for artisans hidden in country barns and city apartments, to shape clay, beat metal and craft wood, and quietly continue to create. The goal was to learn about the numbers and experiences of people involved in preserving traditional Japanese crafts. It turns out to be a vast and thriving network, with artisans using social media to showcase their wares and connect with buyers, fairs, craft fairs and other manufacturers.

Shinichi Moriguchi spends his time crafting chestnut wood trays known as com. wagatabon, Traditional utensils dating from the Edo period with distinctive chisel marks carved vertically into the wood grain. Chestnut wood has special resistance to water and rot, and the carved lines resemble undulating waves, evoking a sense of beauty and strength. No two surfaces are alike. Moriguchi lives in Kyoto and runs a workshop in the surrounding mountains, teaching students the craft com. wagatabon carving. “It only takes simple tools — a wooden mallet and chisels — for anyone to learn,” he says.

Before becoming a blacksmith, Yumi Nakamura worked in interior design, so her approach to the craft is evident in a strong awareness of space and how things appear in settings. Her kettles and tea pots are exquisitely carved, with thin, exaggeratedly curved handles. Although the process of hammering and shaping sheet metal can be tedious, she marvels at how things can be extracted from inanimate matter. “Unlike ceramic or glass, metalwork allows you to still touch the form,” she says. “You can keep hammering forever, so determining the right time to stop is crucial.” Hammer marks reflect different strengths and physiques, but also embody the personality of the maker.

Amplify a cliche now Wabi-sabiwhich has become routinely applied to anything involving weathered natural materials, the exhibition includes a glossary of terms that crystallize uniquely Japanese concepts, such as anbai, Meaning “balance” or “adjustment”. It was originally used to describe the seasoning of food, but here it relates to how the quality of something relates to its shape and color. Shibui (literally “bitter”) means subtly elegant, while ibitsusa It refers to “irregularity”, which should be cherished as evidence of the human hand, imparting an expressive quality that cannot (yet) be reproduced by machines.

Short films document some of the artisans at work, showing how basic materials are painstakingly transformed into elegant artefacts. As with potter’s wheel television periods of the past, there is an enticing ASMR (autonomous sensory response) quality to watching how a bowl or spoon is made, but the films also convey a broader sense of the lives of the artisans, their daily routines and their locales, since the nature of the place also shapes design approaches.

Specializing in ceramics, ceramic artists Yamamoto Ryohei and Hirakura Yuki share a house and studio in Arita, in western Kyushu, where ceramics were first produced in Japan more than 400 years ago. Near their home is the site of the oldest kiln in Arrieta. Discarded pottery shards are scattered about the ground, but despite their age, they retain a surprising freshness. The couple began researching and replicating historical pieces, refining their making techniques and gradually developing a style that became their own. “The human eye is always looking for something,” Ryohei says. “When you’re not sure whether you see a design or not, your imagination kicks in.”

What stands out is how craft is an intrinsic and intimate part of human existence, passed down through generations, and changing more or less unchanged. Programming director Simon Wright quotes a line from 13th-century Japanese writer Kamo no Chōmei: “The flow of a river never stops, yet the waters never remain the same.”