Meet the Tool Specialists Who Support Seto Ware Artisans

An artisan can’t work without their tools. That holds doubly true in the ceramics studio, with its array of wooden spatulas, metal modeling tools, and myriad varieties of glaze. Though working outside the spotlight, the suppliers and makers of this equipment play a vital supporting role in keeping Japan’s traditional ceramics industry running.

Guided by Seto ware artist Taruta Hiroshi, we went to visit two of these suppliers in the nearly 1,000-year-old pottery production hub of Seto City, Aichi Prefecture. There, we spoke to the owners of a hardware store specializing in pottery tools and a store for glazes and pigments.

A common theme in our conversations was the economic challenges that put pressure on Japan’s entire traditional crafts industry. Yet amid these issues, there also emerged a hopeful story of mutual support, one where both artisans and suppliers help each other as each brings their own passion and expert knowledge to the world of craft.

These are the real people who work behind the scenes, whose expertise helps artisans get what they need to create the beautiful works that adorn our tables and homes.

Our first stop takes us to an unassuming building on a busy street corner, fronted with a bold sign reading “Murakami Hardware Store: Ceramic Industry Modeling Tools.” The moment we step through the glass doors plastered with posters for local pottery exhibits, we are greeted by an artist’s treasure trove. Lining every shelf are mismatched boxes filled with every kind of equipment a potter could imagine: wooden-handled trimming tools, sponges in a dozen different shapes, bisqueware stamps, colorful packets of pigment, and enough brushes to make a painter’s heart sing.

The tools Taruta uses for his linear hotarude pieces—delicate celadon matcha ware and sake cups featuring graceful cut-outs—come from this shop. He’s been going here since his student days.

Taruta puts it plainly. “Without this shop, I’d be in trouble. I wouldn’t be able to do my work.”

He introduces us to the proprietor, Watanabe Takahiro, a good-natured man with a hanten coat tossed over a sweatshirt, tied at the hip with confident flair. The shop’s fourth generation, he is the face behind one of the few remaining ceramic–industry-focused hardware stores left in Japan.

Not merely a supplier, Watanabe's shop also makes and repairs tools, and its expertise is trusted by the community. Yet pressures in the traditional crafts industry threaten the toolmakers, as well—further impacting the craftspeople themselves, part of a cycle of structural challenges.

“Ceramic factories used to be our main clients,” Watanabe explains. But times have changed since the store was established in 1957, a time when the handmade ceramic business was still booming.

“There are still some ceramic factories, but they aren’t doing old-fashioned pottery using the kind of tools we have here. They’ve shifted toward foreign capital and high-purity ceramics. For those, the tools are specialized, and the products are things humans can barely touch with their hands, tiny things.”

“Parts for cell phones or space shuttles,” Taruta clarifies. “Not like what we’d think of as pottery at all.”

The resulting issues of scalability and economic anxiety are palpable. Watanabe gets around this by stocking anything and everything—and sprinkling on top his positive attitude.

For example, he keeps low-frequency items in stock, even if just one person or company uses them. That way, they’re on hand when people come in looking for them. Thanks to this, some items made to order for individual artists have even become strong sellers, because they can’t be found anywhere else.

Watanabe adds with a laugh, “If you keep strange things, there are people who come to get strange things. It’s fun, isn't it?”

Taruta chimes in with his artist’s perspective on Murakami Hardware. “If I’m in trouble, I come here. Because there are so many items, I might find something that looks usable.” Customers come seeking information as well, drawing on the shop’s decades of experience working closely with artisans.

While potters’ tools can be bought online, that can’t replace the personal touch of an experienced supplier—something that became immediately apparent as we watched Taruta consult with Watanabe in detail about which chamois leather strip he should buy for his current project.

Important, too, is the fact that the store carries specialized traditional tools like dami fude, fat brushes with a precision tip that are used to pull underglaze pigments across a bisqueware surface. Watanabe's are made with deer tail hair, whose softness is said to be ideal for these brushes. High-quality items like these are not necessarily easy to source elsewhere.

With such an important position in the ecosystem of Japanese traditional crafts, what keeps the business going and in a position to buoy the potters that work further up the industry chain?

First is word of mouth and the store’s well-earned reputation. Taruta tells us, “A Japanese artist I met in Germany visited this shop with me once. They were so happy, like, ‘Is this the rumored place?’ I don’t know if the information is floating around somewhere, but word on the street is, ‘If you come to Seto, go here.’”

Crucial, too, is the participation of the younger generation. Watanabe points to the young woman standing beside him at the counter as the store’s fifth generation. “I’m glad she’s joined. It had become such a struggle, I thought this would be the end of it.”

“We artists feel relieved too,” adds Taruta. “When there’s a good young person, you think they’ll be there for decades to come, don’t you? You think, ‘The next few decades will be okay.’”

Finally, local initiatives like April’s Land of Pottery: Seto Hands-on Pottery Fair, in which Taruta is involved, work to bring together all parts of the ceramics community, from artists to tool suppliers like Watanabe.

“I’m surviving thanks to everyone’s hype,” Watanabe grins.

Our next stop in Seto brings us to Kajita Pigment Shop, a specialist in glazes and ceramic pigments. Rows of plates painted in a rainbow of shades line the front windows, and the interior is a palette of color—literally. Scores of plywood boards line the shelves. Attached to each are over a dozen test pieces displaying the color range of a single glaze when applied in different mixture ratios and fired in various kiln conditions.

The proprietor, Kajita Shigekatsu, a tall, cheerful man in work-ready overalls, jumps right in. “With ceramics, chemical reactions become essential. The thing is, many people have been a bit stuck ever since studying chemical formulas in middle school. They’re fine with throwing on the wheel, but when chemistry comes up, they tend to become hesitant. If that happens, they can’t make what they want to make. So, for the items we handle, we prepare samples in advance—showing that if you mix this and that, it becomes this—so that it’s easy for the customers to incorporate them into their work.”

What Kajita specializes in, and what makes him so indispensable for professional potters, is an in-depth knowledge of glaze formulas and the ability to give personalized advice to craftspeople. Based on what an artist needs, he is able to suggest different quantities of glaze ingredients like silica, alkali, or alumina, and adjustments based on how hot or how long a potter fires their particular kiln. This is crucial for artists like Taruta, whose work’s success hinges on how the glaze melts during firing.

Kajita gained that knowledge by getting hands-on, doing the painting himself and firing test pieces in his own kiln. “Everything in this room, I made myself. Since my own failures and successes are all stored in my head, I can talk to the customers. I’ve experienced the things they struggle with, so I can say, ‘Oh, I solved it this way.’”

What does that advice look like in practice? “With Taruta-san,” Kajita says, “we talk about how the glaze will cover the areas carved to let light through. It shouldn't be muddy and drip down, but it also shouldn't fail to melt and become too thick. He must have gone through a lot of trial and error.”

Taruta adds, “When I started making my own glazes, I’d create a hypothesis and test it. Once I knew more, the nature of my consultations here changed.”

Kajita also gives lectures around Japan on the science of pigments, including at the Japan Kogei Association, Japan’s premier traditional crafts organization. “If a problem occurs, craftspeople might not have anyone to ask,” he explains. “They understand what their fathers did, but many people don't really know ‘ceramics’ as a science.”

Since Seto ware encompasses such a diverse range of styles, Kajita is perfectly positioned with the know-how to advise others.

As with Murakami Hardware Store, Kajita’s work, too, has developed in response to economic pressures on traditional craft industries.

“It was after the Plaza Accord,” Kajita says, referring to the 1985 trade agreement that depreciated the U.S. dollar in relation to the Japanese yen, among other currencies. “The trade business—making in Japan and selling to America, the Middle East, or Asia—became no longer viable. For us, that was a problem. People in Seto had been specialized in one part of the process until then, but when the volume dropped, they had to start doing everything themselves.”

Used to relying on now-vanishing suppliers and a business model dependent on order volume, Kajita was facing the same challenges. Realizing he couldn’t let his business shrink further, he decided to go back to school to increase the breadth and depth of his knowledge of ceramic science. That’s how he became the kind of supplier who makes everything himself.

“I think few people actually try doing it this way. It takes an incredible amount of time,” he says. Yet the result is a sustainable business that fills a vital niche: a pigment shop that professional ceramic artists trust.