Creating Through Contemplative Wandering and Restless Exploration［Part 2 ］

Yamada clearly distinguishes between his work with the kerosene kiln and his wood and climbing kilns. Yet he explains that each firing method influences the other. We spoke with him about his creative process, which he describes in unpretentious, honest terms.

When asked about his sources of inspiration, our conversation revealed two distinct modes of thought: an "active thinking" that deliberately expands the imagination, and a "receptive thinking" where ideas emerge while engaged in unrelated activities.

"I know very little about how things are made in this world. Even with pottery, I can only imagine how a particular piece was fired. When my own work emerges from the kiln, I can only wonder, 'Why did it turn out this color?' and imagine the movement of fire and temperature changes inside. While contemplating these questions and beginning my next piece, I sometimes have an 'Ah!' moment. This is what I consider inspiration. But I also experience these moments while watching films or viewing other artists' works in museums. My process resembles a pendulum swinging between thought and action, gradually shifting. When the natural phenomenon of 'firing' intersects with this, the work emerges. Therefore, all my pieces exist in a state of trial and error. The more I create, the more possibilities expand, leaving many ideas untouched."

Soft light accentuates the brushwork textures.

Traces of thought returning to earth.

His dynamic pieces, such as sculptural objects, bowls, and flower vases, are also impressive.

When discussing the concept behind his work, Yamada smiles and says, "Yamada creates while wandering (laughs)." His approach to pottery—without a master, without establishing his own definitive style—reflects a resolute commitment to the uncertain path, suggesting he has found conviction in embracing the very act of contemplative exploration.

"Traditional Mino wares like Momoyama ceramics, Shino, and Oribe, each have clearly defined classifications within the Mino pottery tradition. Without such stylistic foundations to rely on, I sometimes feel like an independent musician. I'm less constrained by definitions, allowing formless thoughts to materialize into tangible works. I occasionally feel as though I'm recreating the same thing from different angles. However, I approach my work with the kerosene kiln more professionally, creating well-crafted pieces to sustain my livelihood. As a counterbalance, the climbing kiln offers me personal enjoyment—a space where I freely create sake vessels and sculptural objects that align closer to luxury items. The data and sensibilities gained from the more reproducible kerosene kiln work inform my wood firing, and vice versa. Consequently, I've recently begun approaching my work with greater ease. To be honest, I'd rather spend more time resting and playing with my children," he laughs.

Selected pieces awaiting shipment.

Yamada shows us a mask molded from his own face.

Evidence of the creative process appears throughout the studio.

For Yamada, pottery-making is something he does to sustain his life. Words like "wandering" and "never-ending" might carry negative connotations. When asked why he continues despite this, he smiles and replies, "Every profession has its difficult aspects—they're just varied in each profession. That's precisely why work must be enjoyable to be sustainable." This statement seems to encapsulate the essence of both work and life. He accepts the straightforward reality that a potter is "someone whose life is intertwined with ceramics" and can proudly declare, "I enjoy the pottery-making process itself." In an era that often seeks convenient answers, his determination to continue wandering in uncertainties appears remarkably refreshing. Though he claims he "hasn't reached any ultimate state," the serene atmosphere surrounding him as he works at the potter's wheel suggests a tranquility that only comes with profound understanding.

The tranquil atmosphere involuntarily suspends one's breath.

Nature, life, and art blend into perfect harmony.

"I adore my children. I wish I could dedicate more time to them," he says with a smile.

"My works are everyday tools still midway on their journey, not fine art created for pottery enthusiasts. I hope such vessels might catch the eye of a young person who enters a stylish shop looking for clothing. What I expect from TABAYA UNITED ARROWS is precisely this kind of beautiful serendipity. If people can experience the joy of ownership and the pleasure of using well-crafted tools, just as they do with clothing, that would make me happy. Furthermore, if this serendipity extends internationally, I feel the future of pottery would expand as well."

As he watches his dog Nana, his words—'Above all, I wish to contribute to my customers' wellbeing'—resonate deeply. Ryutaro Yamada, who encountered pottery at a crossroads between life and death, continues to work with his hands while embracing uncertainty. The vessels filled with his energy genuinely seem to possess the power to enrich daily life.

Tools for living, born from earth and becoming part of everyday life.

His dog Nana. The bowl is from "wan," a craft series for "small family members."

The refined elegance of his work is another aspect of Yamada's charm.