White Porcelain That Ignites the Imagination

When we stand before Maeta's white porcelain, it feels as though its sculptural beauty is speaking directly to us. An unseen landscape, visible only to the mind's eye, seems to emerge from within. These white porcelain pieces are not mere vessels; they are works of art that stir the imagination—and that is precisely Maeta's intention.

"I believe that within the whiteness of white porcelain, there are five colors. Beyond just sensing color, I feel the finest pieces are those that can evoke a range of images as the light and shadows shift from morning to noon to night. I work with white porcelain every day, striving to get closer to that ideal."

Since China's Tang dynasty, the technique of intentionally not painting has been established and highly praised as a form of expression, just as much as painting itself. Maeta believes there is something in the form of a white vessel that allows one to feel the beauty of empty space, enriching the soul.

"For instance, in monochrome woodblock prints or ink wash paintings, artists depict snow-covered trees and mountain paths. It's fascinating how the unpainted 'empty space,' combined with the white of the washi paper, creates the illusion of accumulated snow. It's also wonderful to imagine that beneath the snow, new buds are getting ready to herald the arrival of spring."

The aesthetic of empty space was by no means confined to painting. Maeta realized that the whiteness of the porcelain is, in itself, that empty space, capable of evoking countless images and emotions.

Drawing Inspiration from Tottori's Natural Landscape

To realize his vision for the ideal white porcelain, Maeta's past experience was crucial, but the scenery of his home in Tottori was indispensable. The moment Maeta knew he could dedicate his life to white porcelain, he recalls a breathtaking scene unfolding before his eyes.

"Tottori has many overcast days, and a soft light filters through the shoji paper screens. Watching that light strike the porcelain, seeing the interplay of light and shadow shift with the passing of time—in that moment, I knew that white porcelain was my only path."

But the region's influence on Maeta didn't stop there. The local character and culture are also vital elements in his creative process. For example, if he worked in Okinawa, his pieces would reflect its bright, arid climate and culture. If he worked in Arita, Saga, his creations would inevitably be categorized as a form of Arita ware.

However, Tottori City, where Maeta established his studio, was free from such historical ceramic associations. While this presented a challenge, it also proved to be an advantage.

"This area is rich in folk crafts and overflowing with the earthy, moist feel of earthenware. My desire to create ceramics that felt right to me led me to incorporate the best qualities of both pottery and porcelain into my work.

Its distance from Tokyo was also significant, providing an environment where I could focus on what I love without being distracted by fleeting trends."

To translate the sensuous beauty of nature into his work, Maeta developed what is now his signature technique: 'mentori,' or faceting.

A Technique that Shatters Convention

The secret to the captivating presence of Akihiro Maeta's white porcelain was a technique no one had ever attempted before: "facet-cutting on white porcelain." Traditionally, such bold faceting was considered taboo as it often caused the pieces to crack. Maeta explains that he owes this unconventional, free-thinking approach to his location in Tottori.

"Working with white porcelain on my own was likely a major factor. I had no one around to give me advice, so I simply focused on bringing my creative vision to life. Some pieces would crack, while others turned out perfectly. My current style gradually emerged as I constantly sought ways to improve," he says.

Maeta says he failed so frequently that he began to wonder if he could ever make a living as a ceramic artist. However, he recalls that a major turning point was the realization that "in the creative process, failure isn't necessarily a failure but an essential step toward creating something new."

Choosing a Path Without a Mentor

In the world of traditional crafts, the established path to success typically involved becoming an apprentice to a teacher at a ceramics school or another artist to learn the craft's history and techniques. But Maeta chose not to study under anyone.

Whenever he's asked about this decision, Maeta shares his perspective:

"It's often said that it takes more than 10 years to truly make the skills learned under a master your own. Even when you create your own work, people see it as your master's technique, and breaking free from that is another immense struggle.

In my case, I didn't have that, so I had to start from scratch, taking baby steps. But that's a path everyone must walk sooner or later. I just started walking my own path single-mindedly from an early stage. Ultimately, an artist is someone who creates something uniquely their own—something no one has ever made before."

This conviction seems to have grown stronger over the years. Maeta mentions that in a book he read several years ago, he came across the phrase, "Art is giving form to material," which resonated deeply with him.

"In traditional crafts like porcelain, pottery, and lacquerware, technique is obviously important, but the true test of a great piece is whether you can skillfully draw out the inherent characteristics and beauty of the material. As you continue the process, there comes a moment when the artist's unique personality melts into the work."

Becoming one with the work. This marks a pinnacle of achievement in traditional crafts. When he reached that point, the Living National Treasure Akihiro Maeta was born.