In Memory of Tasuku Mitsufuji

On April 25, ceramic artist Tasuku Mitsufuji, whose works we had been privileged to handle since the opening of our gallery, passed away.

When I received the news last weekend from one of his juniors from university, it was so sudden that I could hardly believe it.

The last time I saw Mr. Mitsufuji was at the end of 2024. Behind his home, he had been creating a beautiful space with stone objects and a small pavilion. As we shared tea there, I remember saying,

“When Mitsufuji Park is finished, I would love to bring some of our customers here.”

We continued to exchange messages afterward, and I had been looking forward to visiting him again, wondering whether the park might now be complete.

“I want to keep making pottery until the day I suddenly drop.”

Those were the words that stayed with me most deeply when I interviewed Mr. Mitsufuji, and I used them as the title of the article.

Later, after reading the interview, he laughed as he made coffee for me and said in his Kansai dialect,

“Do I really speak that much in Kansai dialect? Compared to the other artists, I’m the only one who sounds like this. I thought, Mori-san must have made this up.”

I can still see him smiling as he said those words. I never imagined that they would come true in this way, and far too soon. The sadness is beyond words.

Mr. Mitsufuji was someone who studied many things with great enthusiasm, including tea and calligraphy. His learning and experiences, extending far beyond ceramics alone, were clearly reflected in his work. I was truly looking forward to seeing how his work would continue to evolve. To receive this news at such a time fills me with deep regret and sorrow.

The four years since I first met him were not a long time. Even so, I am sincerely grateful to have encountered such a wonderful artist, and to have had the opportunity to introduce his work.

For many years, Mr. Mitsufuji continued creating works through anagama firing, a physically demanding process that must have placed a great burden on his body.

Please rest peacefully for a while.

And one day, I hope that in the heavens, together with the many great ceramic artists whom you so deeply respected, you will once again enjoy making pottery and sharing conversation.

Mr. Mitsufuji, thank you truly, from the bottom of my heart.

We sincerely pray that he may rest in peace.

To his family and all those close to him, I offer my deepest condolences.