Kintsugi art is a unique form of art rooted in Japanese historiography as well as a modern way of looking at the world. As a craft with centuries of tradition behind it, kintsugi presents challenges to artists who are practicing its methods today. Timeless in its appeal, it is also modern in its embrace of both immediate aesthetic experience as well as a look back at time lost.
Specifically, kintsugi is an art form that cherishes memory: the object is a synecdoche or symbol of a family member or a memory of having been with that person. Looking at a broken object, now being repaired by the art of kintsugi, the viewer can recall feelings and thoughts associated with the person to whom it once belonged. By repairing the object, the lost person, the buried emotion, is restored to life. And when an artist provides their interpretation of the object, and the relationship implied by it, new meanings are acquired. All of this is a complex tradition, unique to Japan, which values restoration of people and things seemingly lost. In a world now
in which sustainability is better understood, kintsugi can play a pivotal role in seeing how history is always alive, never just in the past.
Kin in Japanese means, “gold” 金. “Tsugi” ツギ means, “next,” or, “to join.” Put together, the words refer to the restoring what is broken, typically an object made of glass or porcelain. The artist who restores broken objects is working with practicalities, but at some level what is implied by that labor is a belief in impermanence.
Kintsugi has been around as a craft for centuries. Aristocratic families in Japan imported fine household objects from China, and it was inevitable that things broke, and would need repair, rather than replacement, due to their cost. During the Muromachi period, under the shogunate of Ashigak a Yoshimasa (1435 - 1490), this practice of repair became widespread, and turned into a craft with a set of rules that over time became a tradition.
The tradition must be adhered
to in order to demonstrate that kintsugi art today is consistent with its history; there are rules that need to be followed. But the artists of today cannot simply practice their craftsmanship based on what’s been done before. Without experience of the individual artist, the kintsugi art of the 21st century produced would be uniform, nostalgic, or repetitive. The challenge for each artist is to create anew. That renewal is intrinsic to kintsugi itself: taking heritage and allowing for development, change, and commentary on contemporary events that shape art.
As a kintsugi artist, Takeshi Matsuyama approaches the work bearing in mind both the tradition as well as the necessity to make things new.
He knows, for example, that, “First
of all, glassware is the most difficult thing to do with kintsugi.” It is not only the idea of originality in the face of tradition, but that, Matsuyama-san notes further, “Many craftsmen shy away from requests for glass kintsugi. This is because Japanese lacquer has the worst compatibility with glass adhesion.”
Still, with the global matter of sustainability as a pressing concern, Matsuyama-san realizes that, “in order to meet the needs of overseas customers, repair of glass products is inevitable.”
The kintsugi that he creates is a profound, tactile and visual way to help preserve heritage.
“I want to pass on what they have inherited from their ancestors to the next generation,” Matsuyama-san noted.
II
The methods that Matsuyama-san employs are very specific, and here he explains:
“The first glue I tried was an epoxy for glass. It didn’t stick at all, to say the least. The next thing I used was glass epoxy putty from the same manufacturer. It stuck firmly. It was easy to process and the work went smoothly. There were no mistakes along the way.”
Luckily, the photographer Shugo Takemia was present to capture the moment!
“The next thing I tried was to temporarily attach it with another epoxy adhesive and then mold it with an ultraviolet curing adhesive. However, it was not possible to maintain the strength with this method alone. Japanese lacquer was applied over and over again, the surface was polished cleanly, and gold powder was sprinkled and polished. However, when heat was applied during polishing, it broke again.
UV curable adhesives are vulnerable to heat.”
Undaunted, Matsuyama-san forged ahead, he kept trying to get it right. That persistence is fundamental to the process itself, inseparable from the outcome.
“At the third challenge, the glass tilted, so I removed the joint part again and tried again.”
On the fourth attempt, he finally succeeded.
Failed the first time.
III
Matsuyam-san’s technique, and his finished work, differentiates him and what he does from other kintsugi artists. Methodically, he approaches the task with precision. He explains:
“The segments of the broken glass, the fragmented or chipped parts, are glued together, and while the final work does not initially appear different from other things, a closer look yields surprises. I use Japanese washi paper for the joints to increase the strength of the adhesion. I also apply lacquer.
“The lacquer is not only applied by rolling it horizontally, but also by stacking it vertically to give it strength. And instead of simply mending with gold dust, various decorations are added to create a new one.”
Philosophically, Matsuyama-san notes, “I think the biggest difference is that it is finished as if it were reborn.”
That outlook carries tradition forward, and it a literal interpretation of what kintsugi art is about: rebirth.
And through, “repeating trial and error, there is something I understood. There are still many ways to change the texture, and I think the possibilities are endless.”
