【Komachi Engi】 Rui Mito — Where She Stands Now

Following last year’s “Kanwan,” this year we are finally able to present the long-anticipated gathering of female artists, “Komachi Engei.” Five artists who continually enrich the world of Kamatotsuchi will present their latest works together in one exhibition.

On this occasion, rather than simply introducing new works, I wanted to take the opportunity to record where each of these artists stands today — in every sense of the word — as part of Kamatotsuchi’s fifth-year chronicle. How have their styles evolved? How have their techniques deepened? How have their aesthetic sensibilities matured? Beneath the surface beauty lies the accumulation of time, decisions, and lived experience. I hope this exhibition becomes a place where that process can be carefully traced through the works themselves.

Let us begin with Rui Mitō, the Karatsu ceramic artist who has provided four works for this exhibition.

Last year, in addition to exhibiting at Mitsukoshi Nihonbashi, she also presented her work in the Netherlands, steadily expanding her presence both domestically and internationally. It has been nearly three years since I first became captivated by her deep commitment to materials — a practice that begins with searching for clay itself — and by the remarkable depth of her work.

What one feels each time seeing her pieces is a strong artistic will that exists firmly within the established framework of Karatsu ware, yet never remains confined by it. While grounded in traditional techniques, her works carry a cool, contemporary presence that feels deeply connected to the sensibility of living in the present moment. I wondered where this quality came from.

“In recent years, I’ve been fortunate to visit many different places, both in Japan and abroad. Being able to physically feel the air, the atmosphere of a town, and the sense of time flowing there is a great stimulus for me. Each of those experiences becomes a clear motivation for what I want to make next. There are certainly things you can discover by staying in the same place and continuing to work, but sometimes that can also lead to a depletion of ideas. When I go somewhere new, see unfamiliar scenery, and interact with the people there, ideas for what I want to make next naturally arise.”

This perspective — that experiences seemingly unrelated to making ceramics, such as walking through a city or simply being present in a new place, can become the driving force behind creation — feels refreshing.

“After returning from the Netherlands, I had a business trip within Japan. Normally I would have gone to museums or tried to absorb as much as possible, but instead I just walked around the city and spent time normally. That’s when I realized, ‘Ah, my input is full right now.’ I couldn’t take in any more. It was simply time to output.”

Through these experiences, Rui came to a renewed understanding.

“I realized that what I do is take in what enters me and shape it into something to send back out. And in thinking about that, I felt again that what I make is not ‘copies.’ It’s about honestly expressing what I’ve absorbed through my own contemporary experiences. I don’t think that way of thinking will change.”

For this exhibition, I asked each artist how they perceive chance in their work.

“Of course, when firing a wood kiln, you accept chance. But I don’t unconsciously rely on it. For each piece, I have a strong intention for how I want it to turn out. For example, I decide where the front will be, apply glaze accordingly, and place it intentionally within the kiln. I simulate the final result as much as possible, and only after building it up that far do I entrust the rest to the kiln. Take this Kuro-Karatsu flower vase, for instance — the body is thrown on the wheel, but the neck is coil-built, so it naturally distorts. If I were to raise it entirely on the wheel, it would become straight. Whether the distortion turns out exactly as I hope is in the realm of chance, but the desire for distortion itself is intentional.”

Rui rarely speaks extensively about her work on her own, yet when asked, she always answers clearly and precisely. Through new challenges, she absorbs many things; those experiences become works; and those works, in turn, give rise to new challenges. In this positive spiral, her work continues to evolve and gain even greater depth and luster.

Her approach to making — placing her own will consistently between intention and chance — is precisely the essence of Rui Mitō as an artist. Within the tradition of Karatsu ware, this is the place where her present moment continues to be renewed.