The Philosophy of Creation: Answering the Call of the Wood

"Some exhibitors create pieces specifically to appeal to the judges. That’s something I’ve never even considered.

At any given moment, I've always submitted what I wanted to express, without worrying about acceptance or rejection.

Every year when I exhibit at the craft exhibition, I have a strong desire to present a piece that can be called my signature piece for that year. I've exhibited in the main exhibition 41 times now, and I consider every single one of them to be a signature piece."

Easier said than done, of course. Creating a new design every year demands an immense well of ideas and daily inspiration. But for Miyamoto, he says the designs emerge from the materials themselves.

"These days, I don't go searching for good materials for a specific project I have in mind. Instead, it's a matter of whether I can see what I want to create among the wood at the lumberyard. It's only when I can interpret what the wood is trying to convey to me that I can begin to shape it into a piece of work."

Because woodcraft is a conversation with nature, he believes it’s crucial to listen to the material rather than imposing one’s own selfish desires upon it.

The Origin of Creation and Thoughts on Traditional Crafts

Miyamoto has spoken about the importance of "creating for someone else" as the true origin of craftsmanship. This belief stems from his own experiences, and he shared a moment that brought this realization into sharp focus.

"Some time ago, there was an exhibition at the Tokyo University of the Arts called \"尊厳の芸術展,\" which featured works made during the war. It left a profound impact on me. It seems that when Japanese Americans were forced into internment camps, they created art from whatever they could find, like bits of wire and dry wood.

When I saw the pieces they made with someone in mind, I thought, 'This is the very essence of creation.'"

"The act of creation is a fundamental human instinct," Miyamoto reflects, recalling the pieces from that era.

"In that sense, today’s artisans are quite fortunate. For example, if you're working on something and find you're missing a tool or a material, you can simply go out and buy it.

But that's only possible because there are people harvesting the timber and other artisans making the tools they use. Traditional craft isn't just about the artists who create the final pieces; it's upheld by the entire ecosystem of people who support their work.

However, we don't know how long this situation will last. While I hope it continues forever, we might face a future where certain materials become unavailable or the toolmakers disappear. But I don't think we need to be pessimistic. As with the wartime art I mentioned, people are resourceful. They will find ways to adapt, discover substitutes, and continue to explore new possibilities."

Miyamoto's perspective on the future of traditional crafts is remarkably bright. Of course, as a Living National Treasure, he might feel a sense of duty to maintain a positive outlook. Even so, for readers familiar with Miyamoto's life story, his perspective is one that will surely resonate.

Two Messages for the Younger Generation

After hearing about Miyamoto's feelings toward traditional crafts as a Living National Treasure, we asked him what message he wants to leave for the younger generation. He told us there are two things he wants to share.

The first is the importance of 'experience.' Miyamoto, who is involved in training the next generation at his workshop and at the university, has always felt that while techniques can be taught, sensibility is something that largely depends on the individual. That's why he urges them to expose themselves to a wide range of arts.

"You can't just study woodworking. It's great to listen to music or travel and enjoy different landscapes. Sometimes, you can gain new insights just by hopping on a bike and zipping around town."

Miyamoto himself has had moments where an idea that became the core of his design came to him while doing water activities; you just never know what will directly connect to your work. That's why he says that accumulating experience is, in itself, a form of work.

And his second message is to 'find something you're passionate about.'

"I want you to pursue what you truly want to do, even if it means sacrificing other things. It might not be easy to find that one thing you can say, 'This is it!'

But still, I hope you'll relentlessly search for something you can pour all your energy into, something you can get serious about right now."

Miyamoto himself was once an unpaid, live-in apprentice. The ten years of his apprenticeship flew by in a flash, simply because he was thoroughly enjoying the process of creating woodwork. He believes that finding that kind of passion can profoundly impact the rest of your life.

This message isn't just for young people or those in the craft world. It's thought-provoking for everyone, from young adults and professionals struggling with their current lives to the older generation searching for a new chapter after retirement.

Throughout this five-part series, we've looked back on the life of Living National Treasure Teiji Miyamoto, and his journey culminates in the messages he shared. Being surrounded by woodworking from birth, his apprenticeship under his master Kenkichi Kuroda, his subsequent quest to find his own style, and his work as an educator—both as a Living National Treasure and a university professor—was all built on the foundation of pursuing what he 'loved.'

And then there's the creative ingenuity that lies at the heart of human craftsmanship. Captivated by the joy of it, Living National Treasure Teiji Miyamoto continues his work today.