Unearthing Kusatsu Ware: Plant Pots Inspired by Nature & Tradition

Plant pots made by an artist who loves plants, using an ancient clay from the shores of Lake Biwa: these are works by Yamamoto Kazuma of Ohmitogei Research Centre. Inspired by an ancient pottery known as Kusatsu ware, created 1,400 years ago from the clay, silt, and mud of Lake Biwa, Yamamoto uses these same local materials to reimagine Kusatsu ware for the modern era, celebrating the beauty of the passage of time.

Combined with characteristics that promote a healthy environment for plants, like breathable clay and thoughtful creation of drainage, the result is a series of works that stand on their own as art pieces while bringing out the best in the plants that are potted within them.

We sat down with Yamamoto to learn more about the ancient vessels and natural motifs that inspired these unique pieces, and delve further into how they work with plants to create thriving, unified arrangements.

The town of Kusatsu rests on the southern banks of Lake Biwa, only about 20 km (12.4 mi) away from central Kyoto—a quick 20-minute train ride in today’s world.

In the late seventh century, the Japanese capital was briefly moved to Otsu, also on the lake’s southern shore, spurring pottery and iron production in the Kusatsu area. The unglazed pottery produced then is known as sueki or Sue stoneware: an early variety of Japanese ceramics. Though its production in the Kusatsu area ceased with time, ancient ruins containing Sue stoneware shards remain.

Yamamoto’s father, also a potter, was involved in excavation surveys of those ruins, inspiring him to reimagine ancient Kusatsu ware—creating with the same mud, silt, and clay used back then.

“It’s not the same style as the original Kusatsu sueki,” the younger Yamamoto clarifies, “but rather, using local materials to make new things for modern life and culture.”

Working from that concept, the Yamamotos don’t apply glaze, but rather a mud local to Lake Biwa called Seta silt. This material melts around 1,100°C (2,012°F), much lower than the temperature of 1,250°C (2,282°F) that Ohmitogei Research Centre uses to fire clay. As a result, the mud melts in the kiln, becoming a natural coloring agent. Adding components like lime separates it into hues of black and brown, while pouring diluted silt over the surface, spraying mud with a mister, or carving patterns adds depth of color and texture. The finishes look rustic, as if the pots truly were ancient things excavated from the earth.

Says Yamamoto, “I personally like things that have aged. It makes me feel as though the time that the object has traveled through is engraved into the vessel itself.” It seems fitting for pieces inspired by Kusatsu-area pottery from fourteen centuries ago.

Also in the service of better drainage are Yamamoto’s intentionally crafted, large drainage holes, and slits in the foot rings of his pots that act similarly to gutters, letting water flow out more effectively.

That has a number of positive implications for plant health: most crucially, reducing the chance of root rot. This is key for plants like cacti and succulents that suffer in wet conditions and are easily susceptible to over-watering.

Yet Yamamoto notes that it’s not only arid vegetation that can thrive in these vessels. “For things like bonsai where you want to retain moisture to some extent, you would handle that by changing the soil to one with better water retention.”

In fact, Yamamoto recalls he had a customer from overseas who said they planned to plant a kuromatsu (black pine) bonsai in one of his plant pots. “Just as how in Japan, sought-after plants include those from South America or dry regions, people overseas are collecting pots for things like bonsai and other Japanese plants. I’ve realized there are people collecting plant pots from that opposite perspective.”

Part of the appeal of pottery to Yamamoto is what he calls “gaining communication with others through clay.” With these pots’ considered design and unique creative perspective, it truly feels like they create a dialogue between potter and user, a whisper across oceans from one plant fan to another.

When it comes to visuals, it wouldn’t be inaccurate to say these plant pots are at once elegant and rustic—two descriptors often contrasted with one another, and yet here they combine effortlessly. So how does Yamamoto do it?

Perhaps the secret is in the use of natural materials and the combination of man-made and nature-inspired forms. The Equator design, for example, involves hand-carved lines influenced by architecture, while the Torch series is shaped like its namesake. Yet their contrasting white and black hues are created by layering two different colors of mud. Likewise, Plump’s column-like lines are contrasted with an earthy brown surface and a rim that is artfully cracked to look natural. Yamamoto uses these cracked rims to also evoke the passage of time, connecting back once again to Kusatsu ware’s centuries-old roots.

Other works more directly take the shape of things found in nature. The Plump series is modeled after a flower, the Spanish bluebell, while the Chalaza works are inspired by eggs. Yamamoto finds in these shapes what he calls nature’s “sculptural beauty and refinement” that he wants to incorporate into his work.

Even within the aesthetics, Yamamoto’s consideration for plants shines through. “The starting point is that these pots are tools to be used. It doesn’t follow if you can't plant in them.” Design merges with function. For example, Yamamoto wanted to create a cylindrical pot to accommodate popular plants whose roots grow vertically, which gave rise to the long and slender Torch design. Likewise, speaking on the broken-looking rims: “If overdone, the sand or soil will spill out. So, I’m conscious of breaking the rims in a way that makes it look like it happened naturally, while also keeping the design easy to plant in.”

Yamamoto notes that when it comes to artistic plant pots, the atmosphere has changed since the Covid-19 pandemic, when many people became newly interested in houseplants—and in the vessels that hold them. Now, a greater number of ceramic artists have begun making these very same vessels. 

“Until the plant pot industry grew,” Yamamoto says, “I had the impression that many people in ceramics tended to look down on making plant pots. But that has really disappeared. Now, these pots are sought after for their artistic or very elaborate shapes. I think it’s been an interesting cultural transition since the pandemic.”

It’s an exciting expansion of the possibilities for the ceramics we invite into our daily lives. Not just the ones that appear on our tables, but the vessels that hold the greenery in our homes, as well.