The Meaning of 'Living National Treasure'

Ask any young baseball fan about their dream, and their eyes will light up as they tell you they want to be a pro or a Major Leaguer. So, when Miyamoto first stepped into the world of traditional Japanese crafts, did he dream of one day becoming a Living National Treasure himself?

"I never even considered it," he says. "There was this incredible master, Tatsuaki Kuroda, right there beside me. I always thought he was the kind of person who earns that title."

Perhaps Miyamoto's humility comes from experiencing the skill and character of a Living National Treasure firsthand from the very start of his apprenticeship. Still, he was chosen. So, what is the selection process actually like?

"You get a phone call. They told me, “We’re in a meeting right now, and your name has come up for consideration as a Living National Treasure.” When they suddenly ask if you want to become one, you have no idea what you’re supposed to do.'"

"I learned that the role is about passing the skills of an intangible cultural property on to the next generation. I told them that if that was the case, I would be honored to accept."

A Passion for University Education

"Passing skills on to the next generation." When Miyamoto heard this, the faces of Tatsuaki Kuroda and his master, Kichisaburo Inui, may have come to mind. It's no surprise he felt it was now his turn to nurture young talent. In fact, after turning 60, he accepted an offer to lecture at Kyoto University of Arts and Crafts and continues to teach there today.

"There are many things I learned from my master. But after becoming independent, I also developed my own know-how. Passing on techniques is important, but I also want to convey the importance of continuing to be creative and innovative on your own."

Miyamoto's creative philosophy was established in his early childhood. As he shared in the first part of our series, his belief that "anything made by human hands can be made by my own" is a core principle he imparts to his students. He stresses the need for a "just try it" spirit.

It's a philosophy he still applies to himself today. "I tell them to just give it a shot, but I have to admit, I was completely hopeless with computers," he adds with a sheepish grin.

It All Begins with 'Thinking'

The spirit of craftsmanship is something only an artisan can truly pass on. But when it comes to passing down techniques, we live in an age of textbooks filled with methods and online videos available with a quick search. Miyamoto, however, sees that as a problem.

"I got to where I am today without relying on books, just by following my master’s teachings and my own thinking. That’s why I believe that if you simply show someone, “Here’s the technique to do this,” their development just stops right there."

"How would I tackle this? If you approach it that way, you can devise methods you won’t find in any book."

For readers who have been following this series, it will be clear that this philosophy is born from Miyamoto's own life. His childhood experiences of creating things he loved from whatever materials and scraps he could find, and the hardships he endured to establish his own style after striking out on his own—this is the real treasure that defines him.

The Importance of Communication Through Dialogue

Having been a woodworker for over 50 years since his apprenticeship, Miyamoto has a mountain of wisdom to share. This makes his core message, "think for yourself," all the more compelling.

But with the recent buzzwords "taipa" (time performance) and "cos-pa" (cost performance), there's a clear trend of people wanting to gain information and skills without investing time, money, or effort. Has Miyamoto noticed this shift himself?

"I always tell my students before class, 'If you don't understand something, please raise your hand and ask.' The students who ask questions improve by leaps and bounds, but a fair number of them just keep working in silence.

Unfortunately, many students seem to believe that the methods they see on YouTube are the be-all and end-all. I'm not saying they shouldn't watch videos, but I feel it's a real missed opportunity when they have skilled, experienced teachers right in front of them and don't ask questions directly."

That said, not everyone has this mindset. Unlike at a typical large university, his classes are small, with about 10 students at most. This creates an environment where Miyamoto can have almost one-on-one conversations.

"I also do a lot of my own creative work in the studio, which naturally piques the interest of some students. Many are very diligent; they not only master what I teach them, but some even pick up skills that go above and beyond. These are the ones who grow day by day and ultimately produce incredible work."

It's astonishing to think of students not asking any questions with a Living National Treasure right in front of them. It suggests that no matter how much information we can get from digital devices, the acts of "asking questions," "learning through dialogue," and engaging in "trial and error" remain fundamental to mastering and passing on any craft.