On Kintsugi

Today I received an email from a friend introducing me to the beautiful philosophy of Kintsugi - a Japanese technique used for mending ceramics, which also promotes a profound philosophy.

The technique uses lacquer and gold powder to mend cracks and breaks in ceramic wares, highlighting the repairs rather than trying to hide them. This emphasis and recognition of prior damage is an interesting approach to rebuilding broken objects, attracting attention to flaws and scars by making them the highlight and point of beauty within the work.

I find it interesting that such a philosophy comes from Japan. While this country has a rich philosophical history, the culture strives for perfection in every aspect. From the pristine order of large, densely populated cities, to the slick, modern technology, to the immaculate traditional temples and gardens - perfection is not just goal, it is constantly achieved. I look at women on the train with their flawless hair and make up, I see cleaners sweeping up rubbish before it has time to settle on the pavement. Commuters are neat, orderly, and do not look flustered or fed up in spite of being sardined into uncomfortably close proximately with strangers during peak hour. Food presentation is so exquisite that it almost seems a shame to eat anything, customer service is exceptional, and punctuality is a given. I wonder how this Zen Buddhist philosophy that is born from Japanese history, fits within their world today.

As an artist, of course I find this philosophy fascinating. So much of artistic practice is building up and pulling down elements until it satisfies us.

I often do an exercise with my art classes, where I will ask them to tear up a piece of work they have created, then reassemble it. There are two main reasons for this exercise - the first is to encourage them not to be precious about work, the second is to enable them to look at their work in a different way. While this activity has never been about highlighting scars or cracks, the philosophy fits in seamlessly with what the class aims to achieve. Many participants turn to the art class looking for an activity which promotes mindfulness. While my classes certainly aren’t derived from meditation or art therapy, they do aim to create a reflective space where busy hands can allow for a calm mind. My art classes cater for many, and participants range in varying levels of ability, both physical and intellectual, carrying with them the most incredible stories. What has been interesting working with these gloriously eclectic individuals, is how their experiences impact what they create.

Of course, this is the basis for creating any artwork, be it professional or amateur, but the point of difference that I have noticed here is their honesty, and unpretentious expression of self. So many artists (and I am guilty of this too) get caught up in how something is meant to be. This is, without a doubt, an essential part of arts practice, and is often what separates the good from the great. However, overworking an idea is common, often leading to the heart of the work being lost, leaving the artist (and most likely their audience) wondering what extinguished that original, brilliant spark.

None of these thoughts are groundbreaking or new. They have been written about, discussed, and grappled with many times over. The reason why I return to them, however, is to look at them in a new light. Kintsugi is not only about recognising the breaks in a vessel and making them beautiful, it is about doing so with highly skilled simplicity. To display all our cracks and scars raw and un-edited, is to be a shattered work, and while this is of course one way of making (there are no set rules) it does not achieve the philosophical or physical endeavours of Kintsugi. Managing the strong, clean lines of Kintsugi is a skill that not many possess.

How do you mend something, restore strength and beauty, without compromising the integrity of what it once was? Nelson Mandela spoke about forgiveness as freedom

“As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison”.

Is this an embodiment of a similar philosophy?

Recognise what it is that has happened. Cleanly, clearly realise it as part of growth in order to maintain integrity and strength. The transformation will take care of itself.

Sounds easy doesn’t it?