Category: Research

The Master in the Redwoods: Pond Farm Pottery and the Legacy of Marguerite Wildenhain

March 20, 2020Ceramics Sonoma County Research

This past February, potter Bill Geisinger drove me to the rustic and eclectic town of Guerneville along the Russian river in Sonoma County in Northern California. During our car ride there, Bill related to me the logging history of Guerneville, the Bohemian Club, and its controversial grove retreat nearby, and soon, I found myself surrounded by the tall magnificent trees inside the Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve.

The majestic Redwood trees of Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve

As a transplant generation Xer, I had not heard of Pond Farm and Marguerite Wildenhain until Bill sent me a Wikipedia link about the farm prior to my visit. Upon reading it, I was excited to find out about this post-Second World War Californian colony for artists and to discover more about Marguerite, who was its resident artist and a Bauhaus-trained master potter.

Marguerite Wildenhain (1896-1985) was an American ceramic artist and educator. She was born in Lyon, France to a father of German descent and an English mother. Marguerite trained at the legendary Bauhaus school in Weimar, Germany from 1919 for 6 years under master potter Max Krehan and sculptor Gerhard Marcks. She emigrated to the U.S. to escape the Nazis with the help of American architect Gordon Herr and his wife Jane who wanted to establish an artist community in California.
(Click here to watch footage of Marguerite Wildenhain by Rollie Younger on YouTube)

Bill and I arrived early to stroll in the splendid redwood forest. As we walked, Bill said that he had wanted to bring me here because he thought Pond Farm would be a source of inspiration. He shared the story about his visit with Marguerite in the 1970s at the urging of his teacher James Lovera to learn how to make handles from her. Bill always surprises me with never-heard-of-before episodes like this in his life. After hearing Bill’s story, I complained that he rarely makes pots with handles these days, to which he laughed and agreed with my observation.

Entrance toThe Pond Farm Pottery in Guerneville, CA

Following our stroll, we visited Pond Farm with Michele Luna, the Executive Director of Stewards of the Coast and Redwoods, who kindly took the time to show us the compound. The Stewards are the managing member of a partnership for the preservation and revitalization of Pond Farm.

The barn at Pond Farm

“The barn workshop was where Marguerite taught her two-month summer classes every year, and the rest of the year she worked and lived alone in that small cabin,” Michele explained, as she pointed to a house that was closed for viewing due to its dilapidated state. There was also a guesthouse on the compound that Marguerite had built for her teacher from her Bauhaus days, Gerhard Marcks, for his visit to the farm in the 1950s. The guesthouse was recently renovated and is used to host resident artists in the summer.

The guesthouse at Pond Farm

As I stepped into Marguerite’s barn pottery workshop, I immediately felt I was in a familiar place: a studio built upon the artist’s complete devotion to the craft. Inside the barn, I observed the design of the studio and contemplated the system that Marguerite had developed for teaching to countless students each summer from 1949 to 1980.

Pottery studio of Marguerite Wildenhain at Pond Farm

In the now empty workshop, models of the pottery forms that students learned from Marguerite were still in place. I wondered how closely the classroom was designed to the legendary Bauhaus school where Marguerite had trained under master potters for up to 9 hours each day, 6 days a week, year after year.

The classroom inside the Pond Farm barn

After returning from Northern California, I borrowed “The Invisible Core: A Potter’s Life and Thoughts,” written by Marguerite from my local library. She states in the book that many of the students that came to her summer school were college and high school teachers. She writes perceptively that at Pond Farm, “we take great pains in teaching the basic and fundamental elements that go into making a good piece of pottery […] More than that: We have a stimulating exchange of ideas and often really excellent and exciting discussions about art, integrity, human values, life, pots, what it all means, and how they are related, how all these have to fuse in you to one total concept and to form.”

The forms that students practiced in stages during summer class at Pond Farm. Marguerite conducted systematic learning in a traditional master-to-apprentice training environment

The Bauhaus-style kick wheel at Pond Farm

At Pond Farm, I only saw a small kiln inside the barn. So I asked Michele where all of the pots were fired because Marguerite accepted up to 25 students at a time for her summer workshops. Michele explained that none of the work by the students were fired. I was very surprised to hear this because I could not believe that the students were content just to learn how to make pots and not finish making them.

The kiln used by Marguerite Wildenhain at Pond Farm. None of the work by the students that attended summer school were fired.

But after reading Marguerite’s book, I realized that what she taught, and what the students came from all over the country to learn, was not just about how to make pots but also what Marguerite called “the essential requirements that all valuable work need.” These essential requirements consisted of “work, time, patience, effort, and intense devotion and faith in the validity of this purpose.” She called it the “discipline not to betray the requirements of art.”

I told Bill that I found Marguerite’s words compelling and insightful. He agreed and said that “her book was my bible in the 70s.” Over the years, I’ve met and studied many highly regarded artists, and while they all excelled at their craft, most could only teach a very small number of apprentices in their lifetime, if at all. And even with the best of these artists, master-to-apprentice training can be disorganized and mystifying.

The simple cabin where Marguerite Wildenhain resided. The inside cannot be viewed at this time because of its dilapidated state.

Marguerite’s achievements stand out because she was committed to teaching generations of aspiring artists the essential way of life as an artist, and honing of the necessary skills through relentless training like that of apprenticeships. Her teaching took place in a systematic and enlightening environment. If this method originated from the Bauhaus school, it only existed for a handful of years, but Marguerite kept Pond Farm going single-handedly for over 30 years, so her impact cannot be overstated. Her former students, called Pond Farmers, include the likes of Dean Schwarz of South Bear School, and Professor Dorothy Bearnson of University of Utah.

I hope that this blog post will inspire you to learn more about the work of this extraordinary but largely forgotten American master potter and teacher. Marguerite sums up her life’s work in a short statement in her book:

A Marguerite Wildenhain bowl made in the mid-1970s at Pond Farm, Guerneville, California. This stoneware with colored slip, glaze and sgraffito design was acquired by Barbara Brown and kept on display in her home until 2018. At that time Barbara asked Bill Geisinger to take custody of the bowl until it can be displayed to the public at a museum. Barbara is a potter and the international ambassador for the Association of Clay and Glass Artists of California

“My life as a potter has taught me to know the short-lived values of mode and fashion trends, of prizes and “success.” As fleeting as clouds are publicity, fame and limelight, but the good pot will endure through the centuries because of its integrity, its sound and pure purpose, its original beauty, and especially because it is the indivisible, incorruptible, and complete expression of a human being.”

I am not a potter, but wished that I could have met Marguerite to ask about her thoughts on fostering an enduring culture of crafts. In this uncertain time of social distancing with the coronavirus crisis, I found her words comforting and reassuring about my work at Entoten.

Finally, if you can, please help preserve Pond Farm, an important historic site of California’s Armstrong Redwood State Natural Reserve, by visiting the redwood forest, becoming a member, and/or donating to the Stewards of the Coast and Redwoods.

Browse more images of pots made by Marguerite Wildenhain in the Forrest L. Merrill collection

Forrest L. Merrill Collection Website: A History of Pond Farm in Pictures

California Natives: Manzanita “Vandenberg” in a Vase by Bill Geisinger

January 18, 2018Bill Geisinger Research Tea

How should I select and arrange flowers in a vessel? For the tea room, Japanese tea master Sen no Rikyu (1522-1591) famously said that “the flowers should be arranged as they are in the field”.

As I walked my dog one fall morning last year and saw the misleadingly iconic imported palm trees and eucalyptuses against the blue California sky, I wondered “so what did Californian fields look like before these exotic plants arrived?”

Palm trees are ubiquitous in San Diego, and they seem to be considered representative of California

Looking out to the ocean from Torrey Pines State Natural Reserve. Natural reserves provide a glimpse of what indigenous California fields look like. The Southern California coast often starts gray in the morning, as seen in this photo, but then brightens as the sun breaks through for the rest of the day.

On one side of our back garden, I have a long strip of planter area that I had been been watching weeds grow for the last two years. My grand plan after all the necessary repairs were done inside the house, was to plant some beautiful flowers like camellias and peonies that are listed as ‘appropriate’ for the tea room. No I don’t have such a room yet, but it is part of my ambitious 20-year renovation vision that I promise to discuss with my husband who will first read about the plan in this blog.

I began researching camellias and read about the care and attention for the one type that I have always wanted. It is called Camellia Wabisuke and is a small single form camellia that I frequently see in photos of tea room alcoves. My desire for this flower was made stronger because of its perfect name, which includes the word wabi!

Japan’s oldest Wabisuke Camellia in Ryoanji temple Kyoto, conveniently labeled for tourists with a sign.

Then, I looked at a photo that I took of Japan’s oldest Wabisuke plant in Ryoanji from a past trip to Kyoto, and realized that I was crazy. Camellias really belong where there is regular rain and sufficient humidity, which is usually where luscious mosses can grow and cover the ground. When I mentioned this to my tea teacher who has been growing tea flowers in San Diego for the last 50 years, she shook her head and confirmed that “camellias are the most difficult to grow and care for” in Southern California.

Single form white camellia that will be close to impossible to grow in Southern California. White camellias are especially difficult to grow according to my tea teacher.

Feeling defeated before even planting a single flora, I looked through my tea ceremony guide book and re-read the seven rules of Sen no Rikyu, which led me to the opening question of this blog.

After some research, I was surprised to discover that there are thousands of plant species in California, many of which can be found nowhere else. Many also bloom with beautiful and unostentatious flowers. I excitedly thought that I should try turning my back-garden dirt strip into a native flower cutting garden and started to investigate which plants I should grow. This was no easy task because the actual plants are not commonly sold in nearby nurseries.

Tree of Life Nursery in San Juan Capistrano

Finally when I attended a native garden workshop I discovered the Tree of Life nursery in San Juan Capistrano that is owned by Mike Evans. I was inspired when he said that “your garden should provide a sense of place and it should be a place where you want to spend time engaging and enjoy caring for”. Tree of Life specializes in native plants suited for Southern California and each plant is provided with a detailed description for the care that it needs, which is very helpful for a novice gardener like me.

The first native flower I planted was an Island Bush Poppy. This should grow to over 5 feet.

So far, I have planted 8 native grasses and flowers and they all seem to be thriving. One of them is the Manzanita “Vandenberg,” so called because it was discovered on the central coast near Vandenberg Air Force Base. The planting direction that I follow is: “dig a hole twice as big as the container, plant with no fertilizer, no soil amendments, just some mulch and native soil.”

Manzanita Vandenberg with deer grass in Bill Geisinger’s wood-fired vase. Its flowers look like lovely upside down vases when looked at closely, its fruit look like mini apples (manzanita in Spanish).

Today, I cut a stem from the Vandenberg and put it in a vase by Bill Geisinger, which is made from California native clay. I do not know what Master Rikyu would have thought about this arrangement, but it was a moment when I realized that the wisdom he had left behind over 400 years ago continues to be relevant as a guide for figuring out a good perspective, and a way of life. Above all, I am grateful that these plants provide a sense of connection to California, even for a transplant like me.

Hanafuda: Japanese Culture Dealt in a Deck of Cards

March 12, 2014Research

Games that I played while growing up have a special place in my heart and none more so than the humble but elegant game of Hanafuda or flower cards. I loved competing with my grandparents in Hanafuda because the cards were visually stunning and mysteriously old-fashioned. Perhaps the biggest reason for my enthusiasm is that it is a game of chance rather than skill, and offered a rare opportunity to beat the grown ups.

Hanafuda consists of 48 cards in 12 suits. From left, pine (first month), plum blossoms (second month), cherry blossoms (third month), wisteria (fourth month), iris (fifth month), peony (sixth month), bush clover (seventh month), miscanthus grass (eighth month), chrysanthemum (ninth month), autumn leaves (tenth month), willow (eleventh month), and paulownia (twelfth month)

Hanafuda is a set of beautiful Japanese playing cards adorned with plants and animals that became hugely popular in the Edo (1603-1867) period. It is thought to have originated from cards introduced by the Portuguese to Japan in the 16^th century. In Japanese, card games are still referred to as Karuta (from the Portuguese word carta for cards) to this day.

Hanafuda is fascinating because the cards reveal many seasonal motifs and combination designs considered to be “harmonious” in Japanese culture. Similar motifs are portrayed in a wide range of crafts including ceramics, textiles and utensils used for tea ceremonies. So Hanafuda cards are helpful in identifying the elements in nature that are of important cultural value to the Japanese.

Examples of harmonious pairings found in Hanafuda cards.
From left: pine and crane; cherry blossoms and warbler; wistaria and cuckoo; and peony and butterfly.

A set of Hanafuda consists of 48 cards in 12 suits. Each suit represents a month of the year and the corresponding seasons (except for November/willow and December/paulownia). The decorations on the cards are visual representations of the seasonal and natural associations that were developed from Japanese classical poetry (Waka).

Old Japanese lidded soup bowl with lacquer depicting a harmonious pairing of peony and butterfly

For example, plum blossoms and the warbler for the second month’s suit is a major icon for the arrival of spring. The earliest reference to this pairing is found in the 7^th to 8^th century collection of Japanese poems called Manyoshu. “Like plum blossoms and warbler” is an expression used to mean a good relationship.

According to Haruo Shirane in his book “Japan and the Culture of the Four Seasons”, all the suits’ images -with the exception of peony- are from classical poetry dating from the Heian (794 to 1185) period, and reflect urban commoners’ knowledge of the poetic and cultural associations of the months. The tradition of interpreting the four seasons in this highly codified manner began in the Heian court-based culture and became the model of elegance that is called kacho fugetsu (flower and bird, wind and moon).

Wistaria and cuckoo pairing depicted in a vintage stencil. The stencil is from a collection at Saratetsu, yuzen furoshiki dyer in Tokyo.

The Edo pop culture is also reflected in the Hanafuda, most famously in the willow with calligrapher Ono-no-Tofu (894-966) card. The card portrays a well-known Japanese fable of Ono-no-Tofu and the frog. In this tale, young Tofu is taking a stroll by the stream in the rain when he notices a frog attempting to jump onto a branch of a willow tree. After failing many times, the frog succeeds and Tofu, inspired by the perseverance of the frog, worked harder and eventually became a noted calligrapher.

Around the time this willow and calligrapher design was born, a puppet drama known as Bunraku and later a Kabuki performance of Ono-no-Tofu Aoyagi Suzuri was performed that included a more politically inspired version of the Tofu and the frog fable. Many Ukiyoe prints were also produced with willow and Ono-no-Tofu themes.

The 4 cards in the willow suit. Willow with calligrapher card on the left and the mysterious rain and thunder card on the right.

Over four centuries, many regional designs and rules of Hanafuda cards came into existence. The most popular use of the cards was for gambling, so the authorities banned their use repeatedly because they viewed gambling as a vice that ultimately channeled money to criminal gangs. The last ban took place in the late Edo period, which was also around the same time that the current Hanafuda designs were perfected. This is why many mysteries still surround the origins of the designs of the cards.

For example, I could not find any convincing explanation as to what is portrayed in the odd looking “rain and lightning” card that is under the willow suit. It is odd that the willow and the swallow -which is a spring bird- are portrayed in the eleventh month, and paulownia that blooms in early summer was chosen for the twelfth month. In addition, one should bare in mind that craftspeople from the Edo period never seemed to do anything without some clever hidden meaning behind their work so the puzzle can be quite complex.

A deck of Nintendo Tengu Hanafuda. The Japanese characters on the paulownia card explain that the cards are made from a special process of wrapping a thick card with another piece of paper and applying the design on top. The tengu (a long-nosed mythical flying messenger of buddha) is depicted on the case and it is probably not a coincidence that the word nose is “hana” in Japanese.

Hanafuda is entertainment from the ages enjoyed widely by families throughout Japan, and interestingly, they also have connections with contemporary hi-tech entertainment. About 120 years ago, when the Meiji government lifted the ban on Hanafuda, an entrepreneur called Yamauchi Fusajiro opened a Hanafuda shop in Kyoto. His cards became so popular that the brand name of his cards, Nintendo, became synonymous with Hanafuda. Nintendo eventually evolved to become today’s famous video game giant. So we Japanese can proudly say that we have been playing Nintendo for more then a century.

A Simple Tray, A Complex Tale of Progress vs. Tradition in Japan

October 25, 2013Wood Research Kobayashi Katsuhisa

In the frenzy of industrialization and urbanization in Japan in the second half of the 20^th Century, countless villages were sacrificed in the name of progress. Wagatani was one of these tiny hamlets nestled along the banks of the Daishoji River in Ishikawa Prefecture that was swallowed up by a dam in 1965. The village is remembered today through its distinctive style of tray called Wagata-bon.

Oval bowl by Hanako Nakazato on Wagata-style tray by Kobayashi Katsuhisa

Wagatani, which means ‘my valley’, was located above the famous healing waters of the Yamanaka hot springs, which to this day is a popular tourist destination in Japan. The village had been in existence since the medieval pre-Edo period and its inhabitants were mainly woodworkers that made shingles, which was the preferred material for roofs in the Kansai region.

Towards the end of the Edo period, one of the village woodworkers named Nakasuji Tasuke began to carve trays out of the scrap wood that was left over from the shingle-making process. The tray, called Wagata-bon or Tasuke-bon for its distinct style, is typically made of chestnut wood that was abundant around Wagatani. Its rim and bottom are carved out of a single piece of fresh, un-dried wood and there are vertical chisel marks left on the tray.

This style of trays appears to have been made by several woodworkers in the village and came in various sizes that depended on what scrap materials were available for use at the time. Very few of the original trays have been found outside the vicinity of Wagatani, so this suggests that they may have been locally bartered for food and daily necessities by the woodworkers.

Kuroda Tatsuaki (1904-1982), a renowned Japanese Mingei wood and lacquer artist was a collector of these humble trays. He viewed the trays to be a pure example of Mingei because of their unintentional and simple beauty rooted in the daily lives of the local people.

Kuroda sought to let the outside world know about Wagata-bon by writing about the trays in the September issue of Mingei-Techo in 1963, and encouraging the style to be revived by fellow artists. But just as Wagata-bon started to be recognized, the several dozen families that were still living in Wagatani began to move out ahead of the commissioning of the Wagatani Dam and the impending submergence of their village.

The 1960s was an era that saw tremendous growth and prosperity in Japan, which led to considerable improvements in the living standards of a large majority of the Japanese people. But this progress came with a heavy cost to the environment, tradition, and culture. Many villages shared the same fate as Wagatani.

One little known fact is that Japan has more than 3000 large dams, which for a country that is smaller in size than California is a remarkable number. By comparison, the U.S. has 9200 large dams and Canada has a little more than 1000. After the feverish building of so many dams, the public started to question their actual utility and this led to an official review of dam building and other pork barrel public works projects in the 1990s.

Through the enduring efforts of woodworkers and Mingei supporters, a small part of Wagatani’s heritage has been preserved. As we look at the tray that woodworker Kobayashi Katsuhisa has faithfully recreated, we can reminisce about this village along the river in Ishikawa that supported the lives of many generations of woodworkers. Although the village is now gone, the soul of Wagatani village lives on in this unassuming wooden tray.

In Pursuit of Beauty: The Meaning of Mingei and Yanagi Muneyoshi Through a Conversation with Matsui Takeshi of Tokyo University

July 9, 2013Mingei Research

This blog post was originally written for Studio KotoKoto

On a sunny summer morning, Studio Kotokoto (Ai in person and Kathryn in spirit) ventured to the leafy campus of Tokyo University to have a conversation about Mingei with one of Japan’s leading experts on the subject, Prof. Matsui Takeshi of Todai’s Institute for Advanced Studies on Asia.

The famous Akamon (red gate) and green campus of Tokyo University

Since Yanagi Muneyoshi (also known as Yanagi Soetsu) founded the Mingei movement almost 90 years ago, there has been fierce debate about what Mingei means and whether it is still relevant today.

We at Studio Kotokoto firmly believe that the spirit of Mingei is important and relevant to our lives today, which is why we have the word in our tagline. Mingei theory touches on the enriching and integral nature of craft to our lives, so it is as much about the users as it is about the makers. It is about recognizing the social and spiritual significance of bringing practical beauty into our homes.

Prof. Matsui has spent over 25 years studying the thinking and writings of Yanagi and the philosophy of Mingei. He wrote an excellent book on the subject entitled “Yanagi Muneyoshi and Mingei Today” (“Yanagi Muneyoshi to Mingei no Genzai” Tokyo; Yoshikawa Kobunkan, 2005).

On the left is the original 1972 copy of “The Unknown Craftsman” bound in mulberry bark paper. On the right is “Yanagi Muneyoshi and Mingei Today” by Prof. Matsui Takeshi, published in 2005.

Yanagi was a Japanese philosopher and aesthetician who lived in Japan from 1889 to 1961. With a circle of friends that included famous potters such as Hamada Shoji and Bernard Leach, Yanagi called on people to turn their eyes to the beauty of handmade utilitarian objects born out of the tradition of craftsmanship in cultures from around the world. For English speakers, a selection of Yanagi’s writings was translated in a book titled “The Unknown Craftsman” (Tokyo; Kodansha International Ltd.. 1972).

The appreciation of beauty in traditional crafts that are practical in use is the very core of Mingei aesthetics. Yanagi raised some very basic questions to get to the heart of the matter. What is beauty? Should art for enjoyment and craft for practical use be considered to have a different worth? Are craft inferior in value to art because it is spoilt by their practical nature?

Yanagi put forward a long list of criteria that he believed were the conditions for a beautiful object to be born. Some of the most discussed points include:

It possesses beauty that is identified with use.
It is made by hand.
It is simple, natural and healthy.
It is made by a community of uneducated anonymous craftsmen and is unsigned.
It is made in large numbers and is inexpensive.
It is representative of the tradition of its region.

To critics, these criteria are from another era and are too preservationist, unobtainable, and irrelevant in today’s world. Idekawa Naoki highlights many of the contradictions and problems of Yanagi’s theory in his book “Mingei -The Collapse of Theory and The Birth of Style” (“Mingei-Riron no Houkai to Yoshiki no Tanjyo” Tokyo; Shinchosha, 1998) .

An embroidered baby carrier by the Naxi, an ethnic minority in China’s Yunnan province. The mother or the maternal family makes this baby carrier with auspicious patterns that offer good wishes to the child. In appreciating the beauty of craft, Yanagi said that the word “use” should be interpreted to fulfill utility and also the mind.

So is Mingei nothing more than an outdated myth? If it is passé, should we disregard it and move on? Prof. Matsui’s perspective is that it is important to understand the circumstances in which Yanagi came up with his criteria. “Yanagi had an acute eye for beauty, and when he found a beautiful object, he was intrigued to find out how it was born. He absorbed himself into researching the background of the object to find out how that beautiful object came to life,” Prof. Matsui explained.

“Yanagi set those criteria because he found that beautiful objects seemed to be born under those conditions”, Prof. Matsui continued. “However, that is not to say that the object becomes beautiful just because it fulfills those conditions.” In other words, it is a one-way process that starts by looking at the material aspect of an item. The criteria is Yanagi’s attempt to theoretically explain how its beauty came about.

Professor Matsui Takeshi of Tokyo University is one of Japan’s most eminent Mingei experts

This also explains how Mingei as a retail term has developed a negative connotation in Japan. Mingei is often used to refer to the cheap and unsophisticated handmade objects made in large numbers that are found in souvenir shops in rural areas.

Prof. Matsui offered that the way to approach Mingei “is to first simply see beauty in objects and to dig deeper into the thoughts for the reasons of its beauty. That means for the users to see and the makers to create without the binds and restrictions set by our knowledge or experience.” It is the continuous process in which the users select beautiful objects, and the makers strive to improve their work. While many get caught up in the list of criteria for Mingei offered by Yanagi, his contributions are in the research and many inspiring thoughts found in the discussions and explanations of how he reached his conclusions.

Chinese baby carrier basket spotted in Kunming, Yunnan Province, in 2000. Lightweight and cool, these baskets are comfortable for the mother and the baby. These baskets are rarely seen in China now. Yanagi was apprehensive of the loss of beautiful traditional objects that were overlooked and unappreciated by the general public.

While Yanagi does not completely reject industrialization, his belief was that the beauty of craft reached its zenith in the pre-industrial era when people depended on handmade objects in their daily lives. Consequently, studying objects from the past helps in understanding the beauty that Yanagi discussed. “There are many things to be learned by looking at objects made by our predecessors. The users who study them develop better eyes and the makers who study them make better objects.” Prof. Matsui said.

An old, salt-glazed stoneware jug with cobalt embellishment made in New England by an unknown craftsman. Studying objects from the past will train our eyes to recognize the simple and pure beauty that Yanagi attempted to define.

In summing up Yanagi, Prof. Matsui said that “what Yanagi dedicated his life to considering, writing, and carrying out is essential to us now, as a wellspring of resources for creative thinking and constructive criticism towards our present way of life”. This is especially true for us at Studio Kotokoto. By studying Mingei, we have become better thinkers about reconsidering beauty in the context of our lives.

Meeting Prof. Matsui has invigorated our wish to continue the study of practical but beautiful objects, visiting their makers, and exploring the backgrounds of crafts and to continue to evolve our thinking. As the wise professor pointed out, the ultimate goal for students of Mingei is in the practice of seeing “to develop a better eye for beauty”, and this requires a lifelong journey of learning.