After this exciting shincha season, I would like to change the subject a bit to briefly explain the status of the potters specializing in teapots in Tokoname and Yokkaichi (banko-yaki). As usual Westerners often have a somewhat dreamy image of it, an orientalist image based on “great masters” stuff and crafts placed at the top of the great pedestal of Japanese arts.
Let’s be clear, if there is one kind of pottery in great danger of extinction in Japan, it is the Tokoname and Banko teapots (especially Banko, one hand would be almost enough to count the teapot makers still in activity). Indeed, with the increasingly significant drop in tea consumption, the need for a teapot is less and less important, and the difficulties for the sector are all the greater as the kyûsu is an object that is not valued in Japan, considered by most to be a worthless everyday object, which does not deserve to be spent money there. For an average Japanese person, in a big city, the psychological limit is below 5,000 yen, I would say from experience. And again, when I worked in a tea shops chain present in the shopping malls of the stations, this limit was rather at 3000 yen, limiting things to objects made with mold, and not the best, and even to made in China or Vietnam kyûsu.
Here, now that this table is drawn up, we understand why young potters coming to study in Tokoname finally prefer not to take the path of making kyûsu, difficult to manufacture, even more difficult to sell. You have to make five parts, the body, the spout, the lid, the handle and the filter, then assemble these parts: in short, it will be easier to make five mugs or five plates for example, from which in total one can earn more money than one teapot.
Now that we understand the difficult situation, how is this small world of potters specializing in teapots, that is to say in Japanese, “kyûsu-shokunin”, organized?
We can distinguish two types of potters, those that are called shokunin 職人, and those that we will generally call sakka 作家. It is quite simple and correct to translate the first term as “craftsman” or “artisan”. The second genre is more difficult to translate accurately. At first glance, one would be tempted to use the word “artist”, it makes it possible to mark in a simple way the difference in their way of working. But the term artist seems ill-suited to me insofar as it refers to the world of art, a more closed universe operating according to different codes. The Japanese word “sakka” is also used to designate a writer, referring then to the term “author”. We could then speak of artisan teapots and author’s teapots. It seems to me that this brings the right nuances, but is perhaps difficult to understand if you do not know this environment well.
In short, if it is difficult to find a really adequate translation, the important thing is that shokunin, we will say artisan therefore, is a term which in Tokoname designates a particular type of potter. It denotes a potter who basically only works for wholesalers, refusing to sell to retailers, and even more to individuals. They thus work on orders from wholesalers in very large quantities, for catalogs, some being able to manufacture up to 1000 teapots in a month. However, we must not believe that the work is bad, on the contrary, it is precisely thanks to this work in quantity that they achieve great mastery and technical regularity. The typical cases of this type of potters today are for example Shôryû, Gyokkô, Hokuryû, etc. Except very specific things, we are generally between 4,000 and 10,000 yen.
Rather, this is the typical pattern for teapots. Most of the big names that we know today, more expensive, have all or almost all gone through this route, some still considering themselves as shokunin, or even sharing their activity on the two types of work. People like Setsudô or Isobe Teruyuki come from these catalog shokunin, and their incredible mastery comes from the fact that during their long career they have produced an astronomical quantity of teapots. Thus, in the case of these great veterans, the limit is more blurred … their works being in a price range of 20,000 to 40,000 yen. On the other hand, people like Konishi Yôhei have gone completely into the other category.
It is obvious that considering the time, the course of shokunin hardly attracts the young potters, and the rare impassioned who decide despite all difficulties to try their way in the manufacture of teapots choose from the start to work as sakka. That is to say that they do not make kyûsu in very large series, therefore do not fit the catalogs, and rather have retailers and galleries as partners. This does not prevent them from working with talent, especially since in Tokoname they have many elders who can provide them with wise advice, but some still think that in a certain way their training is then incomplete, work in large identical series, very repetitive, providing a more qualitative from a technical point of view.
For my part, I think that the two paths have their own justifications and are necessary. Some choose to divide their time between the two types of activity. It is true that the relatively low prices of Tokoname shokunin’s works compared to their already remarkable quality, can make the work of the sakka more difficult, the higher prices being difficult to justify to an uninformed public. We then see the problem even more exacerbated when the difficulties are greater: in Yokkaichi (banko-yaki), we clearly observe that some catalog shokunin (things are less clear here however, because almost no more wholesalers, almost no more potters either) even quite famous produce things rather mediocre (in comparison with equivalent prices to Tokoname) while their early works were really much better. In short, they have chosen to limit the increase in prices by lowering the quality. A choice that can be criticized, especially when you see the result and the current situation (moreover, there are a number of facts that tipped the scales in Tokoname’s side, both qualitatively and quantitatively, but this is not my point today).
It is also true that given the difficulties, access to shokunin workshops can be difficult for newcomers, while at the same time, with orders from wholesalers, it is this type of activity that should ensure a minimum income. The young people then have to work as sakka, then more left to themselves to sell. Well, of course, the wholesalers support the young sakka as much as they can, by selling their works in retail, which can be a first springboard.
I hope that this clarification will allow many to have a less romantic and idealized view of this difficult work in Japan, and thus a better understanding of things. As is also the case with tea, it’s important to focus on the facts and the products themselves, and not the pretty stories that some people want to sell you.
Categories: Coverage, miscellaneous, Tea ware and works by artisans
Japanese Tea Sommelier 
Great article, Florent! Thank you.
I did a bit of research on the word “sakka,” and saw that two kanji make up the word–作家 . The definition I found, of course says “writer” or “artist.” I split the two kanji apart to see what they mean individually. The first one is the key here: 作 (read as “saku”) means a cultural work or production. 家 (“-ka”) is a suffix for expert, professional, or performer. When using the “artist” definition of “sakka,” an artist can be generally defined as someone who works in the arts. The phrase “performance art” comes to mind since one can create by doing something or participating in something and not only by making something like what a painter or a sculptor would. While irrelevant to the use of “sakka” to refer to an author, a potter who creates tea pots is creating “cultural works” just like the author and the artist are doing when all three occupations are referred to as “sakka.”
My own take on Florent’s distinguishing between shokunin 職人 and sakka 作家 is that a potter shokunin creates pottery for their living while a potter sakka is expressing their culture through the pottery they create. Both a shokunin and a sakka are professionals. They had to train and master their craft. The two aren’t exclusive. You can be one or the other at different times in your life. A shokunin gives tangible contributions to their society simply by doing their craft well while a sakka’s contributions will be nuanced just like many kinds of art can be.
I’m not a Japanese speaker. I just did some simple internet searching. I can’t say I have the experience in properly differentiating between a shokunin tea pot and a sakka teapot by simply looking. I hope others may benefit from my explanation nonetheless whether I’m spot-on or if they see anything inaccurate written above.
Very good to read this. Thank you Florent. I recently ordered a Kyusu online and spent hours researching because so many offers seemed to be of “cheap” quality. I think I was lucky with my choice, but I should have remembered you also offer them on thes-du-japon.
Thank you for this informative article on kyûsu. It is suprising to learn that these beautiful pieces are not cherished in Japan. The photographs in the article make it appear that they are expensive items for retail in boutique shops.
Business is business, nothing new there, especially in Japan. But why can’t a realist dream and romanticize?
Thank you for your enriching article, it is very informative.
I’m wondering if many of the cheaper Tokoname Kyushu’s are slipcast? Or, are they all hand thrown?
Cheapest tokomame-yaki kyusu are made with molds (the five or four parts are made separately with mold but still must be put together by hand, polishing, lid adjusting are also by hand).