A Beginner’s First Kintsugi with the MUSUBI Craft Kit

Repairing ceramics with kintsugi isn’t just for experts; beginners can do it, too. Although I had never done kintsugi before, I wanted to give it a try. And since I’m a writer by trade, what better way to sink into the process than to write about it and reveal both its trials and charms for other beginners to learn from?

With the help of my colleague Shirata-san in Merchandizing, we chose some chipped, cracked, or broken pieces of tableware we thought seemed about the right difficulty for a beginner. Then we readied our Kintsugi MUSUBI Craft Kit and got to work.

This article will reveal the real journey of a kintsugi first-timer, tracking each step from preparation to the final application of shining gold.

The Broken Ceramics Take the Stage

First, we gathered the ceramics that we would repair with kintsugi. We wanted at least one item with a break and one with a chip, preferably with minor damage. An additional item with a crack would be a bonus. More complicated repairs would require additional layers of lacquer and longer curing times, so we chose pieces that seemed relatively straightforward for a beginner to repair.

Slowly, the main players took the stage. First, a porcelain side plate that had picked up a chip. Accompanying it came an Arita ware bowl whose vibrant pattern would make it perfect for welcoming guests—were it not for the chipped rim.

Next came a well-loved Usuki ware mug from Shirata-san's own kitchen, cracked both inside and outside. "This one might be tricky," she warned. On its matte-white surface, any mistakes or shaky application of lacquer would be immediately visible. "But we can just give it a try."

Finding a broken vessel proved trickier than we expected. Most people part with broken ceramics right away. So we put out a call around the office: “Seeking broken ceramics! Contact Rebecca!”

Answering it was Matsumoto-san, who brought in one of her own plates, broken clean in half. It was just the kind of piece kintsugi was made for.

Then, at the last moment, came a bit player with main character energy: a Kyo ware crane by KIZAWA. The poor thing’s beak had broken off on its way back from a trade show. The broken edge was so tiny. Would that make it easier or harder to fix? We would soon find out.

Day 1: The First Brush of Lacquer & Preparing the Muro

Applying Katame Lacquer

First, we gathered our materials: the Kintsugi MUSUBI Craft Kit, turpentine, anhydrous ethanol, tissues, and gloves. Gloves are essential because uncured lacquer can cause an itchy rash similar to that caused by poison ivy. For further protection, I chose a long-sleeve shirt I wouldn’t mind getting lacquer on, and Shirata-san wore arm covers. I switched to arm covers on Day 2, having found that my long sleeves left my wrists exposed.

The first step was to prepare the broken edges with katame lacquer, which sets the edges and helps the next layer to stick better. This is made with a one-to-one ratio of raw lacquer and turpentine. The turpentine has a strong, gasoline-like odor, so good ventilation is essential.

To my surprise, the raw lacquer came out of the tube a pale beige, but quickly turned a dark caramel brown with exposure to air.

After mixing with the spatula, it was time to paint.

The kit comes with a fine-tipped brush, useful for painting narrow cracks and applying later coats of lacquer. However, covering the large broken edges of the plate was challenging. A larger brush might have made the task easier, although keeping the lacquer within the edges was difficult in itself.

With the runniness of the lacquer-turpentine mixture, it took less lacquer than we expected to cover our surfaces. Next time, I would use less.

Once the edges were painted, we blotted them with a tissue. This removes excess lacquer while leaving enough on the surface to help the next layer to stick. I learned not to fold the tissue over, as this could spread lacquer onto the plate’s surface.

Creating Muro for Curing

Next, we prepared two muro, or curing boxes. We wiped down the insides of a wooden box and a cardboard box with a damp towel, then placed the items inside. To keep the large cardboard box moist, we placed a damp cloth inside on a dish. The ideal curing temperature and humidity level for the lacquer in this kit are 20°C (68°F) and 70 percent humidity.

We left the boxes over the weekend to allow the lacquer to cure. When I checked on them on Monday, I found the humidity inside the wooden box was at 90 percent! That’s a bit high. In high heat and humidity, lacquer actually cures too fast.

We had started during Japan’s humid rainy season. Although our office was air-conditioned during the week, the AC was turned off over the weekend, something we hadn’t taken into account. Fortunately, the high humidity didn’t seem to affect our repairs at this stage.

Day 2: Adhering Broken Pieces and Filling in Chips

Cleaning off Stray Lacquer

Our difficulty controlling the lacquer became apparent when we checked the cured pieces. Stray marks had appeared on the large plate, while the mug had smudges, probably from my gloves brushing against it when I placed it in the muro.

Thankfully, there is a way to clean off these stray marks. They can be removed by rubbing them with anhydrous ethanol. I had to rub quite hard with a cotton swab, but it did work.

Fitting the Broken Pieces Together

Adhering the broken pieces started with a surprising material: wheat flour. We mixed it with water until it reached the “consistency of an earlobe.” This may sound unusual in English, but it’s a common Japanese recipe instruction when making mochi and shiratama. Soft and supple is the goal.

To that, we added lacquer and mixed. It took a while to reach the right consistency: like sticky caramel.

The crane only needed a small dab.

We waited about thirty minutes for the lacquer to set slightly before fitting the pieces together.

Where lacquer oozed out, I wiped the excess with a cotton swab or scraped it away with the bamboo skewer to make the surface as flat as possible.

Then I used masking tape to help hold the pieces in place.

When putting the crane’s beak back on, I pushed too hard and broke off a tiny shard. It was a reminder to handle the small pieces carefully. I decided to forgo katame lacquer on such a minuscule shard and instead tried sticking it back on as it was.

Filling in the Chips

I thought filling in chips would be the simplest part of the process, but I actually found it the most challenging.

Filling in chips requires yet another substance mixed with lacquer: water combined with tonoko powder. Tonoko is a fine polishing powder, but the mixture felt surprisingly gritty.

Mixing it on the ceramic tile felt a bit like nails on a chalkboard, so if you’re sensitive to textures, just mentally prepare yourself.

Mixing it with lacquer makes sabi lacquer. Unfortunately, the texture doesn’t improve.

I found it hard to control the sabi lacquer. It wasn’t like shaping clay to fit the area. It was more like dabbing stiff frosting onto a cake and trying to make it a specific shape. Knowing I could make adjustments later, I called it a day.

Day 3: Adjustment and Another Katame Lacquer Layer

The adjustment stage involves filing down rough areas to make them smooth. I went without gloves for this step, because the lacquer had fully cured. I chose from among the three files included in the craft kit, experimenting with what shape seemed easiest to handle for each vessel.

On the large plate, I shaved away the excess lacquer that had oozed out of the repaired break until the surface felt smooth and flat.

I found the chip of the side plate wasn’t filled in enough. I added another layer of sabi lacquer. Shirata-san and I had wrapped our excess in plastic the week before, just in case we needed to make this kind of adjustment.

With the adjustments made, I mixed another batch of katame lacquer. This became another undercoat that will help the naka-nuri, or middle layer of lacquer, to stick better.

Then all the pieces went back in the muro for another round of curing.

Day 4: Middle Coat of Lacquer

Our pieces came out of the muro with more stray lacquer around the edges. Was my mixture too thin? I couldn’t figure it out, so I rubbed off the excess with anhydrous ethanol again.

The middle coat of lacquer is done with bengara lacquer, a red lacquer that brings out the color of the gold applied over it. Shirata-san had the unenviable task of painting the crack on the inside of her mug.

Knowing that the quality of the application of the middle coat of lacquer would largely determine the final look of the piece, I got up really close to the lines as I drew, taking off my glasses to try to focus better on the details.

Keeping the lines thin and even was particularly challenging against the mug’s matte-white surface, where every wavering movement was visible.

Although there were more steps to go, it was exciting to see the progress we had already made on each vessel.

We finished each session by carefully cleaning our brushes and washing our hands. A little oil helped dissolve the lacquer on the brushes, which we wiped repeatedly with a tissue before storing them with oil on their bristles to prevent hardening.

Before the next session, we cleaned off the oil with anhydrous ethanol. Something was soothing about caring for our tools. By our fourth day, brush care had become a familiar ritual.

We followed a separate routine for our hands, wrists, and forearms, wiping them with vegetable oil before washing with dish soap. Although we wore arm covers while working, this routine added an extra preventive measure, which provided peace of mind, at the very least.

Day 5: Applying Gold

Our fifth day of work was exciting. We would finally apply the gold we had been working toward for the past few weeks. It felt like the main event.

First, we applied another coat of bengara lacquer to make the metal powder adhere. Although wet lacquer is brighter than when dry, distinguishing the fresh application from the previous coat was difficult. I recommend working in a bright room for this step.

The next challenge was keeping the repair lines thin. The final coat needed to cover the earlier layers completely, or brown or red lacquer would remain visible around the edges of the gold.

As I struggled to draw my lines, I gained a new appreciation for makers like KIZAWA, who created the crane ornament we were repairing. How these artisans can paint such hair-thin lines so consistently and with so much control is incredible.

The pieces went into the muro for an hour to let the lacquer begin to set, but not harden all the way.

Then, finally, it was the moment we had all been waiting for: applying the gold.

Technically, the kintsugi kit contains brass powder, an “imitation gold” that creates a very similar finish to gold but is less expensive. Real gold powder is available separately. As a beginner, I was relieved to be using brass rather than gold while learning the technique.

We poured some of the brass powder into a small dish before scooping it up onto the gold-dusting brush. Professional artisans use a brushing or flicking motion with one finger under the brush to lightly shake it and let the powder drop onto the surface of the piece. I found that hard to replicate, so I just tapped the side of the brush with my middle finger instead.

The powder built up in a glittering line. Then we rubbed it onto the lacquer with mawata silk floss, which has a lovely, cloud-like texture.

Back into the muro the pieces went. We’ll see how they come out soon.

Day 6: Do-Over

When we took the pieces out of the muro, we discovered that the brass powder hadn’t adhered. The ceramics looked good at first, but as soon as I washed off the excess powder, the gold-colored lines disappeared, revealing the red bengara lacquer underneath. What had gone wrong?

My theory was that the lacquer either was applied too thinly or cured too quickly in the heat, and so wasn’t wet enough to allow the powder to stick. I tested that theory by applying a new layer of bengara lacquer to everything and then setting timers for fifteen minutes, thirty minutes, forty-five minutes, and an hour.

At fifteen minutes, the lacquer was too wet, and rubbing in the powder smeared the lines. Even after thirty and forty-five minutes, the surface had begun to harden, but the lacquer underneath was still too wet.

At sixty minutes, the time specified in the kit instructions, the powder finally adhered without smearing. I suspect the first attempt failed because the room was too hot, causing the lacquer to cure too quickly. We also might have worked too slowly after the hour timer was up.

I still had trouble with the large plate, however. Because the lines were so long, it took about half an hour to fully cover them with a fresh layer of lacquer. As I set the plate in the muro to cure for another thirty minutes, I got called away to do some urgent work and missed the window to add the brass powder. The lacquer had once again dried too much.

Timing, I learned, is crucial when applying the metal powder. Working on one vessel at a time, rather than five, would have made things much easier.

Day 7: The Final Outcome

When we took the pieces out of the muro again after leaving them for a weekend, our efforts were finally rewarded. So how did each piece come out?

The side plate’s chip was filled in, and the color of the imitation gold powder was a good match for the gold paint used in the design. The filled area was a bit lumpy, however. Shirata-san told me it’s best to apply and sand down several layers of lacquer to get the smoothest finish.

The rim of the lidded bowl came out a bit smoother, but you can see where I smeared the lacquer with the mawata when the lacquer was still too wet.

The white mug came out better than expected, considering how hard it was to paint the interior. The lines turned out thicker than we had hoped, and some red bengara lacquer can be seen around the edges of the gold if you look very closely, but I thought it was a good first effort for this kind of crack.

The large plate wasn’t perfect, either. The repaired break dipped slightly below the surface, probably because I had shaved away too much lacquer during the adjustment stage. Shirata-san explained that applying more middle coats would have helped create a smoother finish.

I was happiest with how the crane came out. Not only is its beak back on, but the brass powder also has almost the same color and shine as the gold-painted decorations. The repair almost looked like an original part of the piece.

This time, I completed the essential steps for each repair. Without the pressure of an article and photography deadline, I would have liked to add more layers of lacquer for a smoother finish. But our experience showed me that beginners can complete a kintsugi repair from start to finish and create something they can be proud of.

Most of all, all of this tableware can once again be used to serve food. Regardless of whether the gold looks artistic at the end or not, the materials are safe to eat off of. This is a major benefit of using lacquer, rather than synthetic adhesives, to repair ceramics.

Shirata-san can once again use her side plate and her mug. Matsumoto-san can use her large plate. And the crane ornament can happily decorate a shelf for many more years to come.