My encounter with chanoyu, the Way of Tea, began with the acquisition of a work by Yuki Nara. Guided by my conversations with him, I opened my heart to the world of chanoyu. Through a fortunate connection, I became a disciple of the Urasenke Tradition and eventually established Kankai-an, a tea room within the museum. Another fortunate encounter brought me to a tea bowl by Raku Kichizaemon XVI, through which I came to understand that the tradition spanning more than four centuries since Chōjirō remains alive and continues to renew itself at this very moment.

Nara, who opened the door for me to this profound and expansive world, was born into the lineage of Ohi ware. Moving between ceramics and architecture, he is a rare artist whose practice is rooted in both the history of chanoyu and the context of contemporary art. For me, entrusting this exhibition to him was inevitable.

To look not at the vessel’s outer form, but at the emptiness held within—through this lens, seventeen vessels by seventeen artists, ranging from traditional tea bowls to contemporary sculptural forms, are brought together under this perspective. I hope you will experience, with your own eyes and your entire being, the rich atmosphere held within these vessels.

When Kankuro Ueshima invited me to curate this exhibition, I hesitated. I am, after all, an artist, not a curator.

I am not in a position to offer an authoritative account of tea ceramics or craft.
Rather, as an artist within the lineage of Ohi ware, I have engaged with the history of tea ceramics while pursuing a practice that moves between fields such as contemporary art and architectural design. If my encounter with Ueshima has served as a bridge connecting contemporary art and craft at this museum, then perhaps I, too, am one of the participants in the story that has unfolded here. With that in mind, I gratefully accepted his invitation.

At first glance, this exhibition brings together works created in different periods and cultures, and for different purposes. Yet at the heart of each lies a common concept: the utsuwa, or vessel. The word utsuwa is said to derive from utsuho: emptiness, or the hollow within. Rather than considering a vessel through its external form, let us see it as the utsuho within. When the inner utsuho, enclosed by natural materials, receives water, flowers, food, light, human hands, thoughts, and air, the vessel takes on a soul for the first time.

Everything we can see will eventually change and disappear. Yet the utsuho created by form becomes intimately connected with human bodies, memories, and traces, and eventually embarks on a journey through time and space. Because it is utsuho, it can accept change and welcome something that does not yet exist. Within it lies a richness of possibility that extends beyond completed form. As you move through this exhibition, I hope you will look beyond the works’ outward shapes, surfaces, and contours, and listen closely to the utsuho within them, the utsuho between one work and another, and the utsuho within ourselves as viewers.

These four chapters do not present the history of ceramics as a simple narrative of progress. The seeds of “Release” are present in old tea bowls, while “Silence” also persists in contemporary works. Rather, following the works chronologically reveals changes in the way human beings have perceived “emptiness”.

Emptiness is born through enclosure and begins by receiving something. Its contours then transform, until it is finally released into the world beyond. By condensing several centuries into a single space, this exhibition seeks to trace not the evolution of vessel forms, but the transformations of the "utsuho" within them.

Even as eras shift and materials and forms of expression change, emptiness remains at the heart of the vessel.

I believe that this very “emptiness” is the “bridge” connecting the past and present, and chanoyu and contemporary art. It is the bridge that Kankuro Ueshima, with his singular vision, continually brings before society.