Edo Kiriko: From an Objective to a Means

What types of Edo Kiriko items does Horiguchi Kiriko offer?

We produce hundreds of items ranging from standard products like sake cups, rock glasses, katakuchi, kiritate cups, and plates to bespoke pieces for specific customers. In addition to individual clients, we also receive requests from restaurants like "I'd like a dish to pair with this meal," where we tailor materials and designs to suit their needs.

When creating pieces upon request from restaurants, we make it a point to visit the establishment, observe the lighting, table colors, services, and other tableware they use, and then make suggestions.

What sets Horiguchi Kiriko apart?

Just the other day, everyone in our workshop was discussing, "What makes Horiguchi Kiriko unique?" The points that came up were our company philosophy of "surprising and captivating users" and "attention to detail."

For example, we create earrings using kiriko and possess know-how for the metal parts other than the kiriko. From the boxes for the kiriko to the shopping bags, we are meticulous about all elements, not just the kiriko itself.

It might be difficult to pinpoint something and say, "This part of the Edo Kiriko identifies it as Horiguchi Kiriko," but by being detailed in every aspect, the uniqueness of Horiguchi Kiriko naturally shines through.

The workshop unified in white gives off a sophisticated, non-traditional artisan workspace vibe.

We regard the creation of Edo Kiriko not as an end goal but as a means. It is through Edo Kiriko that we find joy and expression. 

The team working at Horiguchi Kiriko chose this path, among many options, to engage in traditional crafts, specifically selecting Edo Kiriko, and ultimately Horiguchi Kiriko. Therefore, we do what we desire, create in a comfortable environment, and wear what we like. By doing so, the essence of Horiguchi Kiriko naturally emerges in what we produce.

The Approach to Edo Kiriko Learned from My Mentor

Could you tell us about the journey that led you to become an Edo Kiriko craftsman?

My family runs a company that deals with Edo Kiriko, and I naturally liked working with my hands. By the time I was in middle school, I had already decided that I wanted to become an Edo Kiriko craftsman.
 
The name "Shuseki" (秀石) originated with my grandfather, who took it in 1961 as the first generation. After graduating from university, I joined "Horiguchi Glass," founded by my grandfather, and apprenticed under the second-generation Shuseki, Tomio Suda, who was my grandfather's first disciple. Later, in 2008, I took on the name of the third Shuseki and established "Horiguchi Kiriko."

My mentor was a very kind and gentle person. On the other hand, I heard from the employees at Horiguchi Glass that my grandfather was quite strict. They would all happily say, "Grandpa was really tough." So, I think he was a person loved by many, perhaps because he combined gentleness with strictness.

You grew up watching your grandfather and family's work from a young age. Do you remember anything from that time?

As a child, the factory where glass processing took place felt sacred, a place where adult men worked, and not somewhere a kindergartener or a little grade schooler like me could step into.
Because of that, I didn't have a strong image of "I want to be like this" or "If I were to make Edo Kiriko, I would do it this way." In hindsight, not having a fixed image of an Edo Kiriko craftsman may have allowed me to embrace various things flexibly.

Is there any memorable event with your mentor, the second generation Shuseki, Tomio Suda?

From my mentor, I, of course, learned technical skills, but more than that, I feel I was taught how to think and how to engage with Edo Kiriko. He was an honest person who was meticulous and sincerely engaged in glass processing.
 
About two or three years after I started this job, as I was gradually getting the hang of fine cuts and the technical aspects, I was evaluating pieces by saying, "This part is well done, this part is not." At that time, my mentor taught me, "First, take a step back and look at the whole form and balance. Then look at the details."

When you become well-versed in the technique, you tend to focus on the details, but if you start with the details, you might miss the crucial parts. So, it is essential to first observe the overall balance and form of the cuts and then dive into the finer details. This is one of the valuable teachings from my mentor that I cherish.

Being Conscious of "For Whom & What Purpose"

Can you explain the process of making Edo Kiriko?

The main processes in Edo Kiriko are "wari-dashi" (marking), "ara-zuri" (rough grinding), "san-ban-gake" (final grinding), "ishi-gake" (stone polishing), "migaki" (polishing), and "bafu-gake" (buffing).
 
Before cutting designs, the "wari-dashi" process involves drawing vertical and horizontal guide lines on the glass. Next, using these lines as guides, a disk-shaped blade called a diamond wheel is used to make thicker cuts, establishing the rough design.
 
In the subsequent "san-ban-gake" step, finer patterns are cut using a fine-grain diamond wheel with water. For the final cutting step, "ishi-gake," the cut surfaces are polished to a smoother finish using a whetstone with water. Once the glass has been cut, it's meticulously hand-polished using abrasives applied to rotating pads or rubber discs to complete the piece.

Is there a particularly important step in the process?

Every step is crucial, but if I had to highlight one, it would be "wari-dashi." Since Edo Kiriko is shaped by cutting, there's no going back. If there is even one small mistake, it can affect the later steps. Thus, it is vital to execute the initial "wari-dashi" as carefully as possible.

How long does it take to become a fully-fledged craftsman?

Of course, it varies from person to person, but it generally takes about 8 to 10 years to learn everything. Initially, you start by handling the glass, and you gradually step up from tasks that you can correct later on.

For example, once you make a mistake in the grinding process, there's no going back, but with drawing lines using a "wari-dashi," you can erase and retry if you make a mistake, so we start with those kinds of tasks.
 
We not only manufacture but also maintain our tools, clean up, and respond to customer repair requests. If you can't create a piece from scratch, you can't repair it. Because we can create from scratch, we're able to look at a repair request and determine, "We need to return to this process and start from here."

What do you consider important in making Edo Kiriko?

It's about thinking, "For whom and why are we doing this?"

For example, faceting is applied to the part of the glass that touches the lips. It directly affects the mouthfeel, so there are various options for processing methods, including functional and design aspects. If you understand "for whom and why you're creating," you can choose the appropriate processing method from those options.
 
While there are items made for general customers or restaurants, there are times when I create for myself, like my own artwork. In the case of artwork, I'm curious to see what kind of expression the glass would have after processing, so sometimes it might result in something impractical. But that's fine because it's for myself. No matter what the situation, soft faceting isn't always necessary. I always strive to understand and discern the essence.

To Inherit Tradition, You Must Train at Least One Apprentice

I heard that Horiguchi Kiriko has many craftsmen in their 20s and 30s. Considering the ongoing concern about the lack of successors in the traditional crafts world, what's your take on this?

Currently, besides myself, there are five craftsmen in their 20s and 30s working at Horiguchi Kiriko. We have a rule upon joining: "You must train at least one successor."
This stems from the feeling that we are benefiting from what our predecessors built with Edo Kiriko.

For instance, we didn't create tools like the "wari-dashi" machine from scratch. The tools used in the "wari-dashi" process are predetermined, enabling us to work as we do now. Since we're benefiting from it, we need to give back. One way to do this is by training successors.

As a manager and as a bearer of tradition, I feel it's important to be able to pass on my work.

If I don't pass on my work and just keep aging, it will create a tough situation when I'm no longer around, making it difficult for the company and tradition to survive. It's because each person continues to hand down their work that tradition is preserved, and I want to consciously pass on the work.

In a relay, we're never the first runner or the anchor; we're in the middle point.

"Raise a Toast at Twenty with Edo Kiriko"

What does Edo Kiriko mean to Horiguchi Kiriko?

To me, Edo Kiriko is a treasured gift from my grandfather. Entering the world of Edo Kiriko has introduced me to people I've met, things I've seen, and places I've visited. It was given to me by those who came before, like my grandfather, and my desire to pass it on to those who follow remains unchanged.

Are there any challenges you wish to take on in the future?

There's a continuous flow of things I want to do, but among them is the aim to create a culture around "raising a toast at twenty with Edo Kiriko."

I heard a story from a senior colleague. His son is about to turn twenty, and in their family, it's a tradition to have a "one-on-one drink with dad" on their twentieth birthday. My colleague spoke joyfully about looking forward to it. At that moment, I realized that people in their 50s and 60s look forward to sharing a drink with their child when they turn twenty.

We’ve always wanted younger generations to use and know Edo Kiriko, but often struggled to find the right opportunity, so this "raise a toast at twenty with Edo Kiriko" story seemed exciting.

On the day of their twentieth celebration, they can hold Edo Kiriko and realize the beauty of Japan's traditional crafts, and use it to share a drink with their parents.

We place great importance on crafting Edo Kiriko "for the user." It’s when the user pours a drink or gazes upon it that our Edo Kiriko is complete.

Therefore, it's crucial that users can envision how they might use it. It’s not just about making Edo Kiriko; it’s about thoroughly proposing the settings where it might be used so that people think, "I want to do that!" We hope to continue such endeavors going forward.