Yoshimitsu NAKASONO
What emerges from continuous contemplation
Before creating something, one first thinks. Why create it? Why that particular shape? Why release it to the world now? For Yoshimitsu Nakasono, the creative process might be described as an unwavering commitment to these questions. Instead of succumbing to trends or superficial novelty, he focuses on the inherent essence behind existence. He neither relies solely on intuition nor closes himself off to pure logic. It is through this pendulum swing between the two that his work gradually takes shape.
What struck me in the interview was how every word reflected a pause for thought. His work, the market, his own position – he doesn't dismiss any of these easily, but rather observes them carefully over time. I felt that this accumulation of quiet contemplation has led to his current style and approach.
It wasn't his initial aspiration
After graduating from the Nagoya Zokei University of Art & Design Graduate School, Nakasono began pottery at studio MAVO in Tajimi City, Gifu Prefecture, in 2009. He says that his entry into pottery wasn't a clear-cut decision either. "During my student days, amidst various encounters and environmental flows, I found myself starting to make a living from it. Rather than making a strong decision to pursue this path, it might be closer to the feeling of naturally arriving at my current position through continuous creation," he reflects on his journey.
Perhaps that's why he also says, "I didn't experience the hardships of what's commonly called an apprenticeship." Because his path differed from the usual trajectory of long study under a master, followed by an independent career after years of groundwork, he needed to constantly reaffirm his footing. Was he truly suited for this work? Was he progressing properly? What he liked and what he was good at, what he wanted to do and what he could do – this process of deliberation acts like a backbone supporting his work, giving it depth.
Making good things isn't enough to reach people
"Just because you make good things doesn't mean they'll sell."
These words revealed a clear-headedness in how he approaches creation within reality. No matter how earnestly something is made, it doesn't guarantee it will connect. Just as delicious food alone isn't enough to sell, he believes that tableware and art also require ingenuity in how they are communicated. Therefore, what's needed isn't superficial cosmetic adjustments, but rather discerning the right approach to present one's inner thoughts. "While valuing the thought behind the work, it's about gauging the distance to the recipient and building the work and its surrounding environment," he states, his professional stance unwavering.
The same applies to the concepts embedded in his works; it's not enough to simply explain them exhaustively. He values making things that people genuinely find appealing and that can naturally fit into daily life, while subtly embedding a "hidden intention" beneath the surface. This depth also reflects Nakasono's unique aesthetic sense.
The habit of thinking becomes the core of creation
Regarding his habit of continuous thought, he says, "Because I didn't study much, I developed the habit of thinking for myself instead of just accepting given answers." When he sees something, he first asks, "Why?" He doesn't just pursue its form, but his awareness turns to its origins, structure, and the starting point of its idea.
On the other hand, prefacing with "I have no specific reason," he mentioned Japanese festivals, temple fairs, and the atmosphere of temple approaches as things that have recently caught his attention. They appear to be made up of disparate elements, yet somehow possess balance and a certain coolness. What exists there is a beauty that isn't overly refined. He says he's strongly drawn to that unique sensation, where sophistication and imperfection coexist on a razor's edge. The very fact that he's drawn to it without being able to explain why might be an important premonition for his current creative process.
Placing oneself where things aren't too clear
While also stating that "the ability to keep creating for a long time is also a talent," he acknowledges that the longer one continues, the more fixed one's techniques and values become, which can gradually erode freedom. That's why he avoids over-relying on technique and knowledge, deliberately experimenting from a slightly unconventional stance. Before settling into familiar methods, he prioritizes leaving an unknown space for himself. This attitude felt like a quiet resistance, allowing him to continuously evolve his work.
Listening to him, I felt that for Nakasono, creation is as much about continuous thought as it is about physical work. He doesn't chase trends, nor does he become stubbornly inflexible; instead, he constantly explores his own position between these extremes. I believe this quiet back-and-forth gives his work a unique tension and room for interpretation. It is at the culmination of such questioning that a form finally emerges.
Contrary to their approachable pop aesthetic, Nakasono's works possess a quiet strength that belongs only to those who continuously think.
