Yoshinobu Morimoto.
A world where the self is unconsciously plundered and lost.
Within that world, he possesses an "individual."
An "individual" is "the past," a "call," a "void," "pride,"
And it is "oneself."
While possessing the essence of the solid, it wavers infinitely like a void.
It has the nature to create infinite change and to "evolve."
It is the "individual."
Well, I’ve started off with a strange piece of writing.
Actually, this was written about Mr. Yoshinobu Morimoto by my friend, Mr. Y.T.
I don't really understand it myself, but when I told him I was going to post an interview, he insisted I include it at the beginning.
Now then, this time I would like to write an interview article with Yoshinobu Morimoto.
I often visit his workshop and listen to his valuable stories and funny anecdotes, but because this is an interview, I found myself getting nervous again.
It will be a long piece (condensed from five hours), but I hope you enjoy it.
Me: "Hello. Let's get right into it—could you tell me about what you felt in America?"
Yoshinobu Morimoto (hereinafter "M"): "Hello. Although I say America, I was in New York.
And what I felt was that perhaps Japan never really had 'fine art,' or art."
Me: "What?! That's quite a shocking statement. What exactly do you mean by that?"
M: "A shocking statement, is it? (laughs) No, really, it doesn't exist. Because we don't have religion."
Me: "Religion?"
M: "Art originally began with religion, right? In Christianity, there are paintings of Christ, religious art to pray to or to contemplate. Japan doesn't have that."
Me: "Japan doesn't have it..."
M: "Because there is no concept of a 'God,' Japanese art is rooted in daily life."
Me: "That's true. There's the concept of 'beauty in utility' (yo no bi), isn't there?"
M: "Yes. It has to be something that can be used, I suppose. Calligraphy, for instance, is something to be used. Pottery is also for use. Ink wash painting is the same."
Me: "That's right. It feels less like looking at a painting and more like it's a part of the whole room."
M: "Exactly. It feels like a component of a room. And it makes you imagine: 'Oh, I'm deep in the mountains.' It's something that enriches daily life in that way. It's truly rooted in life."
Me: "I see. And what about the West?"
M: "The West is rooted in God. It's a world apart from daily life—an independent, solitary world. People say things like Ukiyo-e is Japanese art, but at the time, those were essentially seen as pin-up photos of stars."
Me: "Like celebrity portraits, then."
M: "Yes. I don't think they were produced as 'art' back then. Then, foreigners discovered them and said, 'Oh, Japan is amazing.'"
Me: "True. My acquaintance, Mr. O, said the same thing."
M: "Is that so? (laughs) But in Japan, it's really all about daily life. Whereas over there, a painting is truly just a painting. They are completely different."
Me: "Certainly, when you put it that way, Western paintings feel like a different dimension from daily life."
M: "Yes. It wasn't until people like Tenshin Okakura brought it abroad that Japanese people started saying, 'Isn't our country's art amazing?' So it's not that long ago."
Me: "I see."
M: "So the senses are different from that point on. Japanese things are meant to be used, while foreign paintings are like worlds of fiction or the celestial realm."
Me: "True. It's impossible to 'use' a Western painting. Japan has a strong focus on use, such as the practice of 'mitate' (using objects for different purposes). Customers even say, 'I can't use this one, though.'"
M: "Yes. And what I thought about was where to place the focus: on 'Japan' or on the 'West.'"
Me: "That is the question. How are you thinking about that?"
M: "Well, I think just focusing on America won't work, and neither will just focusing on Japan. Whether I place the focus on 'utility' or 'beauty,' I want to balance them well and switch between them."
Me: "I see."
M: "But since I'm human, doing the complete opposite is difficult, but I plan to find some balance and move back and forth between them."
Me: "A good balance sounds ideal. Then, on the flip side, what did you rediscover as being good about Japan?"
That's all for now. Next time, I plan to write about the theme of 'the Japanese perspective.'
Reading it back, I feel like I've begun to understand the meaning of that opening poem.
Holding onto a "core" and changing it without losing its essence.
That feels very much like Yoshinobu Morimoto.
By the way, the photos this time are of the area around the potter's wheel in the atelier.
It's a wonderful place where soft light creates a unique atmosphere.
The light used for the kiln area is also used as general lighting, which became the inspiration for the title 'Moon of the Pottery Workshop.'
That's it for today.