An incense burner spends most of its life unlit. For those hours it is simply an object on a shelf, so it is worth choosing one you are glad to look at.

A Japanese incense burner can be a heavy bronze vessel with a pierced lid, a painted porcelain jar, or a small leaf of metal that holds a single stick. All of them do the same job, and none of them does it in quite the same way. Which one suits you depends less on the burner itself than on what you plan to burn in it and where it will sit.

This guide follows the order in which you might choose one: what it is called and how it is put together, what you will burn, the bronze of Takaoka and the porcelain of Kutani, Arita, and Kyoto, the motifs and what they mean, the size and the place, and finally how to use the ash and look after the burner. At the end are a few pieces from our collection and some common questions.

1. What a Japanese Incense Burner Is Called

In Japanese, an incense burner is a kōro (香炉), often written koro in English. It began as an implement of Buddhist ritual: incense came to Japan with Buddhism, and a koro still stands on temple and home altars today. Over the centuries it also became an object for the incense ceremony, kōdō, and an ornament for the tokonoma, the alcove of a Japanese room.

A traditional koro has three parts.

The body. A bowl or jar that holds a bed of ash. The ash is what the incense actually rests in.

The feet. Very often three. A three-legged body is the classic form.

The lid. Called a hoya (火屋). It is pierced with holes or openwork so that smoke can rise and air can reach the ash. The name comes from its shape, like a small roofed house over the fire.

Beside the lidded koro there is a simpler object: the incense stand, or kōtate (香立て). It is a small dish or plate with a hole or a holder for one stick of incense, and it catches the ash as the stick burns. Many people outside Japan first meet Japanese incense this way.

2. First, Decide What You Will Burn

The form of the burner follows the incense. It helps to decide this before anything else.

Stick incense, standing. Senkō (線香), the incense stick, is the most common kind in Japan. It can stand in an open koro filled with ash, or in a stand with a hole. A tall stick will not fit under a lid, so if you mainly burn sticks upright, choose an open koro or a stand, or plan to lift the lid while the stick burns.

Stick incense, lying flat. In the Jōdo Shinshū school of Buddhism, sticks are not stood up. They are broken to fit the width of the koro, lit, and laid flat on the ash. A wide, shallow koro, or a long oblong one, suits this way of burning.

Cones. A cone is lit at its tip and sits on the ash or a small plate. Its scent grows stronger as it burns down, which makes it good for scenting a room quickly. A cone is short enough to sit under many lids; if it goes out there, lift the lid.

Fragrant wood and kneaded incense. Small chips of fragrant wood such as agarwood (jinkō, 沈香) or sandalwood (byakudan, 白檀), and nerikō (練香), small balls of powdered aromatics kneaded with honey, are not lit directly. They are warmed by a piece of charcoal buried in the ash. This can be done in an open koro or under a lid; if the charcoal keeps going out under the lid, lift it.

If you are not sure, an open koro or a stand is the easiest place to begin.

3. Bronze from Takaoka

Most of the metal incense burners in our collection come from one city. In 1611, Maeda Toshinaga, lord of the Kaga domain, invited seven casters to settle in the Kanaya-machi quarter of his new castle town, Takaoka, in what is now Toyama Prefecture. Their foundries first made iron pots and farm tools. Over the following centuries the town turned to copper and bronze, to Buddhist altar fittings and art castings, and its work was shown abroad at the Paris Exposition of 1867. Takaoka copperware was named a national Traditional Craft of Japan in 1975, and the city is often said to produce around nine in ten of Japan's bronze and copper castings.

How the shape is made. Takaoka's main method is namagata (生型), green-sand casting. Damp sand is packed around a pattern in a frame, the pattern is lifted out, and molten metal is poured into the space it leaves. A single pattern can make many pieces, and many Takaoka incense burners are made this way. For very fine, small figures, such as a frog the size of a fingertip, makers use lost-wax casting (rōgata, 蝋型): the figure is modeled in wax, packed in clay, and the wax is melted out before the metal goes in. It is the most precise of the methods, and the most costly.

How the color is made. The color of a Takaoka bronze is not paint. After casting and finishing, a specialist colorer treats the surface with solutions or heat so that a thin layer of color forms on the metal itself, and that layer also protects it. The Takaoka cooperative names many such finishes. A few you will meet on incense burners:

• Niiro (煮色), "boiled color": the piece is simmered in a copper solution, and the result is a clear, translucent finish whose hue depends on the alloy.
• Ohaguro (おはぐろ): a liquid aged with iron is brushed on while the metal is heated, giving reddish-brown to near-black tones.
• Tokuiro (徳色): the reddish shades of "antique bronze." The cooperative lists incense burners and flower vessels as its typical use.
• Seidō-shoku (青銅色): a green patina like that of old bronze statues, brought out on purpose.

What it feels like. A cast bronze koro is heavier than it looks, and it sits steadily on its feet. Its surface is not meant to stay exactly as it left the workshop: Takaoka's makers say that wiping it with a dry cloth over the years deepens its color and luster.

4. Porcelain from Kutani, Arita, and Kyoto

Porcelain and stoneware are as traditional for a koro as bronze. The small burner used in the incense ceremony is itself a ceramic piece, and porcelain incense burners from the Edo period are kept in museum collections today.

Kutani. From Ishikawa Prefecture, Kutani porcelain is known for painting in its "five colors": red, yellow, green, purple, and deep blue, sometimes with gold. On a koro, the painting wraps all the way around a round body, so it reads from every side of a shelf. Kutani was named a national Traditional Craft in 1975, the same year as Takaoka copperware, and a lidded Kutani incense burner from the nineteenth century is in the collection of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

Arita. From Saga Prefecture, one of Japan's oldest porcelain towns. Some Arita incense burners are made with sukashi-bori (透かし彫り), openwork carved through the walls of the vessel, so that the body itself becomes a lattice.

Kyoto. Kyo-yaki and Kiyomizu-yaki burners from Kyoto run from crystalline glazes to small figures of owls and cats that hold a stick of incense.

A porcelain koro is lighter than bronze and can be washed. If you want color, or a burner that matches tableware or a vase you already have, it is often the place to start.

5. Iron, Tin, and Small Stands

Not every burner is a lidded vessel. Takaoka also casts in iron, and small iron koro shaped as owls are among the most approachable pieces in the craft: weighty and plain. Incense stands, meanwhile, are often where Takaoka's makers are most playful. A bronze frog sits on a lotus leaf and holds the stick in its arms; another sits on a long bamboo leaf; a ripple spreads across a small square plate around the hole.

The Takaoka maker Nousaku also makes stands in pure tin, a soft, bright metal. Nousaku advises keeping tin away from flames and sources of heat, since it melts at a low temperature, so set the stick so that its glowing tip and falling ash stay clear of the metal.

A stand is the simplest way to burn a stick of incense, and it takes up almost no room. For a desk or a narrow shelf, it is often the right choice.

6. Motifs and What They Mean

Japanese incense burners are rarely plain. The motif on the lid, the body, or the stand usually carries a wish.

• Chrysanthemum (kiku, 菊) — long life. Chrysanthemum sake was once drunk on the ninth day of the ninth month to extend life and keep misfortune away.
• Carp (koi, 鯉) — perseverance and success. A carp that swims up the waterfall called the Dragon Gate is said to become a dragon.
• Crane (tsuru, 鶴) — long life, and a happy marriage, because cranes are said to keep the same partner.
• Pine (matsu, 松) — steadfastness and long life, because it stays green through snow and cold.
• Dragon (ryū, 竜) — a bringer of clouds and rain, and in Buddhism a guardian of the teaching.
• Lion-dog (shishi, 獅子) — protection. Pairs of these lions guard the gates of shrines and temples, and a shishi on a koro lid keeps watch in the same way.
• Rooster (niwatori, 鶏) — the coming of light. In the Japanese founding myth, roosters crowed to draw the sun goddess Amaterasu out of her cave.
• Owl (fukurō, 梟) — good fortune, through wordplay: fu-kurō can be read as 不苦労, "no hardship."
• Frog (kaeru, 蛙) — safe return, because kaeru also means "to come back."
• Swallow (tsubame, 燕) — a thriving business. A house where swallows nest is said to be a lucky one.

If a burner is a gift, the motif is often the easiest way to choose: an owl for a life without hardship, a frog for a safe return, a crane or a chrysanthemum for a long and well-lived life.

7. Size and Where It Goes

On a home altar. On a Buddhist altar the incense burner stands in the center, with a flower vase to one side and a candlestick to the other. This set of three, called mitsugusoku (三具足), is the basic arrangement. Altar koro are usually open burners for sticks, and the school a family follows decides whether sticks are stood or laid flat.

On a shelf or in an alcove. Here the koro is as much an ornament as a burner, and a lidded bronze or porcelain koro is at home. The lidded burners in our collection run from palm-sized pieces about 5 cm tall to alcove pieces of about 30 cm. One of around 10 cm sits comfortably on a shelf beside books or a small vase; a larger one can stand on its own in an alcove.

On a desk or a windowsill. A small stand or a palm-sized koro is enough, and leaves room for everything else.

8. How to Use a Koro

Fill it with ash. Ash is what holds a stick upright and lets air reach the burning tip, and it shields the body of the burner from a hot charcoal. Incense ash is sold for the purpose; washable beads of glass or stone are a modern alternative for stick incense. Japanese guides suggest filling the koro roughly two-thirds to four-fifths full and smoothing the surface flat.

For sticks. Light the tip of the stick in a flame until it catches, then put out the flame and leave a glowing ember. At a Buddhist altar, the custom is not to blow on it, but to fan the flame out with your other hand or draw the stick quickly away. Set the stick in the ash, standing or laid flat.

For wood chips and kneaded incense. The Kyoto incense house Shoyeido describes the method this way: light a piece of incense charcoal and wait about five minutes for it to catch, then bury it shallowly in the ash or rest it on top. Place two or three chips of wood, about 2 mm thick and 1 cm long, or a ball of kneaded incense, on the warmed ash near the charcoal rather than directly on it. If the charcoal keeps going out under the lid, take the lid off; the lid limits the air.

Keep it safe. Japanese fire departments ask that incense be set on a heat-resistant surface and kept away from anything that can burn, and that you stay nearby while it burns, because a fallen ember can smolder without a flame. A heat-resistant tray or stand under the burner is a sensible habit.

9. Caring for the Ash and the Burner

The ash. Pick out the stubs of burnt sticks regularly. From time to time, sift the ash through a fine mesh and stir it to let in air, which keeps it from caking. When it clumps, will no longer hold a stick upright, or begins to smell stale, replace it. Do this outdoors or over newspaper.

Bronze. Wipe it with a soft, dry cloth. This is the care Takaoka's makers recommend, and over time it deepens the color and luster. Do not use metal polish, abrasive cleaners, or scrubbers: on a colored bronze, they remove the very layer that gives the piece its color. Bright, uncoated brass altar fittings are a different matter and are sometimes polished; a Takaoka koro is not one of them.

Porcelain. The incense house Shoyeido suggests wiping away incense residue often with an alcohol wipe, and soaking the piece in mild dish soap for anything more stubborn. Avoid bleach. Residue that has soaked into unglazed clay, or into the fine crackle of some glazes, will not come out, so on those pieces it is better to keep the ash and the stick away from the walls.

Tin. Wash with mild soap and dry well, and keep it away from heat.

10. Pieces in Our Collection

A few examples of the burners described above. These are examples, not recommendations; the right burner is the one that suits what you burn and where it will sit.

A lidded bronze koro — Zuisho. A round Takaoka bronze koro on three short feet, in a deep green patina, with a pierced lid and a small curling knob. Its name, zuisho (瑞祥), means a good omen. About 7.9 cm across and 9.7 cm tall, it comes in a paulownia wood box. (Takaoka bronze incense burner, Zuisho)

A painted porcelain koro — Kutani, flower arabesque. A round Kutani porcelain koro painted with purple flowers on winding green stems over white, with a pierced lid. About 9.6 cm across and 10.2 cm tall. (Kutani incense burner with flower arabesque)

A stand for one stick — frog on a bamboo leaf. A Takaoka bronze incense stand in the shape of a long bamboo leaf, with a small frog, cast by the lost-wax method, holding the stick. About 15 cm long. (Takaoka bronze incense stand, frog on a bamboo leaf)

11. A Note from the Shop

More of the incense burners we carry come from Takaoka than from anywhere else, and many of the rest from the porcelain towns of Kutani, Arita, and Kyoto. Each listing gives the material, the size, and how the piece was made, and those three lines tell you more than the photograph does.

If one thing stays with you, let it be the incense. Decide what you will burn, and the shape of the burner follows. The material and the motif you can choose by eye, for the hours when it sits quietly on the shelf.

12. Frequently Asked Questions

Q: What is a Japanese incense burner called?
A kōro (香炉), usually written koro. A small stand that holds a single stick is a kōtate (香立て). The lid of a koro has its own name, hoya (火屋).

Q: How do I use my incense burner?
Fill it about two-thirds to four-fifths full with incense ash and smooth the surface. Light a stick, put out the flame so the tip glows, and set it in the ash. For wood chips or kneaded incense, warm them on the ash beside a lit piece of incense charcoal instead of lighting them. Always set the burner on a heat-resistant surface and stay nearby while it burns.

Q: What is incense ash for?
It holds a stick upright, lets air reach the burning tip so the stick keeps burning, and protects the burner from the heat of charcoal. Sift it from time to time and replace it when it cakes.

Q: What is the best material for an incense burner?
There is no single best. Cast bronze is heavy, steady, and long-lasting, and its color deepens with care. Porcelain is lighter, easy to wash, and can carry painted color. Iron is weighty and plain. For a single stick, a small metal or ceramic stand is all you need.

Q: Which end of an incense stick do you light?
Either end will light. Hold one end in a flame until it catches, then put out the flame, without blowing on it, and let the tip glow.

Q: What is traditional Japanese incense?
The most common form is the stick, senkō. Others are cones; fragrant woods such as agarwood (jinkō), with kyara as a top grade, and sandalwood (byakudan), which are warmed rather than lit; and nerikō, kneaded balls of powdered aromatics. Awaji Island, in Hyōgo Prefecture, is Japan's largest incense-producing area.

Thank you for reading.

— from Osaka, Team Manekineko-Ai

PIECES IN THIS ARTICLE

Three burners from this article

LIDDED BRONZE Zuisho bronze incense burner, Takaoka US$ 320 VIEW THE PIECE

PAINTED PORCELAIN Kutani incense burner, flower arabesque US$ 280 VIEW THE PIECE

FOR ONE STICK Frog on a bamboo leaf incense stand US$ 130 VIEW THE PIECE

CONTINUE READING

MORE IN KOGEI →

KOGEI Takaoka Metalwork — Where Temple Bells and Tea Vessels Are Born Four centuries of casting in Takaoka, where temple bells, incense burners and tea vessels come from one tradition. KOGEI What Is Kutani Ware? A Textbook-Style Guide to Its Features, History, and Making The five colors of Kutani porcelain, how it is made, and how its styles changed over three and a half centuries. KOGEI How to Use a Rin Bell: The Calming Power of Buddhist Sound The small bowl-shaped bell of the Buddhist altar, and how to strike it.

← BACK TO JOURNAL VISIT THE HANDBOOK →

A calligraphy brush looks simple: a bamboo handle and a tuft of hair. Almost everything about how it writes is decided inside that tuft.

Two brushes can look nearly the same on a shop shelf and write in completely different ways. One leaves a soft, wet line that swells and fades; another snaps back after every stroke and holds a sharp point. The difference lies in the hair, in how long the tuft is, and in how it was made.

This guide walks through a Japanese calligraphy brush the way a brush maker might hand one to you: what it is called, how a Nara brush is made, what each kind of hair does, how the length of the tip and the size of the brush change the line, and how to prepare a new brush and look after it. At the end are a few examples from our collection and some common questions.

1. What a Japanese Calligraphy Brush Is Called

In Japanese, a writing brush is a fude (筆). For calligraphy, or shodō (書道), brushes are usually spoken of in two broad groups.

Futofude (太筆), the large brush. Also called ōfude in its biggest sizes. This is the brush for the main characters of a piece: two to six characters across a sheet of hanshi, the standard practice paper, or a single bold character on a larger sheet.

Hosofude (細筆), the small brush. Also called kofude. This is the brush for small characters: your name in the corner of a practice sheet, a letter, or the flowing lines of kana, the Japanese syllabic script.

Between the two sit medium brushes, and at the far end are very large brushes, some held with both hands, made for long vertical scrolls and for calligraphy performed in front of an audience.

2. Nara Fude: Where Japanese Brush Making Began

Nara is traditionally regarded as the birthplace of brush making in Japan. Brushes first reached Japan from China, and it is said that the monk Kūkai (Kōbō Daishi), after studying in Tang-dynasty China in the early ninth century, brought back the methods of brush making and taught them to a man of Yamato Province named Sakaina Kiyokawa. Whether every detail of that story is history or legend, Nara, the old capital, had what a brush trade needed: the great temples, with their constant copying of sutras, and a thriving ink-making industry of its own.

An even older witness survives in the Shōsōin, the imperial treasure house at Tōdai-ji. Among its holdings is a large brush, known as the Tenpyō brush, used in 752 at the ceremony that opened the eyes of the Great Buddha.

In October 1977, Nara brushes, or Nara fude (奈良筆), were designated a Traditional Craft of Japan. They are made today in Nara City and Yamato-Kōriyama.

All of the calligraphy brushes in our collection come from Akashiya, a Nara brush maker founded in 1716.

3. How a Nara Brush Is Made

What sets Japanese brushes apart is the blending of hair. Chinese brushes are typically made from two or three kinds of hair; a Japanese brush maker may combine around ten, choosing each for its spring, its strength, and its length. Even within one animal, the hair differs with the part of the body it comes from, the season it was cut, and where the animal lived.

The work is divided into a long series of hand steps. A few of them explain a great deal about the finished brush.

Sorting the hair. Raw hair is sorted by thickness, softness, and length.

Preparing it. The hair is rubbed with rice-husk ash and heated, then combed again and again.

Blending, or neri-maze (練り混ぜ). The different hairs are laid out flat, spread thin, folded together, and spread again, many times over, until no part of the tuft holds more of one hair than another. Akashiya describes the selection of hair and the blending as the steps that take the most care.

Shaping and wrapping. The blended hair is shaped into a core, and a thin outer layer of hair is wrapped around it. The base is bound with hemp thread and sealed with a hot iron.

Fitting and finishing. The handle is hollowed out, the tuft is glued into it, and the hair is soaked in funori, a paste made from seaweed, then pressed into its final point and left to dry. That paste is why a new brush arrives stiff, which we return to below.

4. The Hair: What Each Kind Brings to the Line

Most of the character of a brush comes from its hair. Product pages for Japanese brushes, including ours, list the main hair, and it is the most useful single line to read.

Goat hair (羊毛, yōmō). Written with the characters for "sheep hair," but in brush making this means the long, fine hair of goats. It is soft, white, and holds a great deal of ink, so it lays down a rich, wet line and changes easily with pressure. This rewards a confident hand. Many large brushes for bold, expressive work are pure goat hair.

Weasel (鼬, itachi). Brown, springy, and resilient. A weasel tip comes back to a point after each stroke, which makes clear, controlled lines easier. It is used in small kana brushes and also in larger brushes; Akashiya's Kansho brushes for kanji on hanshi are pure weasel hair.

Horse (馬, uma). Strong and stiff, especially hair from the tail. Horse hair gives a brush backbone. Akashiya's Tenka brushes, made only of red horse-tail hair, are rated as firm.

Raccoon dog (狸, tanuki). A stiff, springy hair that adds firmness to blends.

Mixed hair (兼毫, kengō). Many brushes are blends, combining a springy hair with one that holds ink. A blended brush writes with less effort than a pure soft brush and is often the most forgiving place to begin. One of Akashiya's kana brushes, Azusa, pairs springy weasel hair with cat hair, which brush makers value for its tenacity; despite its full tuft, it writes very fine lines.

Stiffer brushes are easier to control. Softer brushes give more variety of line, and ask more of the hand. Neither is better; they simply suit different hands and different kinds of writing.

5. The Tip: Long, Medium, or Short

The second thing to read is the length of the hair outside the handle, set against its thickness.

Long tip (長鋒, chōhō). A long, slender tuft that holds plenty of ink and bends easily. It can produce lively, varied lines, and is often chosen for running and cursive scripts and for kana. It is the hardest of the three to control at first.

Medium tip (中鋒, chūhō). The balance between the two, and the most common. Most brushes in our collection are medium-tipped.

Short tip (短鋒, tanpō). A short, sturdy tuft that stays where you put it. Strokes come out crisp and even, and it is easy for a beginner to manage, though it holds less ink and offers less variation.

6. Size: Matching the Brush to the Paper

Brush makers sort their large brushes by the work they are meant for, and the paper sets the scale. Akashiya, the maker of every brush in our collection, labels each one with its intended use. Read alongside the measurements, those labels give a good picture of what each size is for. The figures below are the diameter of the handle at its base, which is roughly the width of the tuft where it leaves the handle.

Hanshi practice (半紙). Hanshi is the standard practice sheet, about 24 × 33 cm (9.5 × 13 in), usually filled with two to six characters. Akashiya's brushes for kanji on hanshi in our collection measure roughly 9.5 to 14 mm across. This is the size most people begin with.

Names and kana. The small brush for writing your name beside your practice characters, or for kana, the flowing Japanese script, is much slimmer. The kana brushes in our collection made for writing on vertical scrolls measure about 6 to 10 mm.

Kakizome (書初め). At the New Year in Japan, people write a short phrase on a long, narrow sheet of paper, a custom called kakizome, "first writing." Akashiya's kakizome brushes in our collection run from about 13.5 to 30 mm, larger than a hanshi brush to fill the taller sheet.

Scrolls and large works. Brushes for kanji on long vertical scrolls, called jōfuku (条幅), range widely, from about 8 mm for smaller characters to 30 mm for bold ones. The large brushes made of stiff horse-tail hair start at about 18 mm and reach 75 mm, and the largest performance brushes are held with both hands.

When in doubt, choose for the paper you will actually write on. A brush that is too large for the sheet crowds the characters; one that is too small makes every stroke a struggle.

7. How to Tell a Good Brush

Japanese brush makers often describe a good brush with four qualities, an old standard handed down from China.

Sharp (尖, sen). When wet and gathered, the tip comes to a fine point.

Even (斉, sei). Pressed flat, the hairs spread evenly, with no stray or broken hairs sticking out.

Round (円, en). Seen from the tip, the tuft is round and full, not flattened on one side.

Strong (健, ken). The tuft springs back after it is pressed and released, and feels solid near the base rather than hollow.

The first three are easiest to see on a new brush after it has been loosened and wetted. The last is something you feel over the first weeks of writing.

8. Preparing a New Brush

Most new brushes arrive hard, their hair set in a point with funori, the seaweed paste. The paste protects the shape of the tip until the brush is used. Before writing, it needs to be loosened, a step called fude-oroshi (筆おろし), "opening the brush."

• Large brushes are usually loosened all the way to the base. Soak the tuft in lukewarm water, never hot, and work the paste out gently with your fingers until the whole tuft is soft.
• Small brushes are often loosened only part of the way, so that the base keeps some firmness. Some makers mark how far to open a brush; Akashiya, for instance, suggests opening its Shūten small brush up to where the brown hair at the tip ends.
• If a brush comes with its own instructions, those come first.

9. Washing, Drying, and Storing

• After writing, rinse the brush in lukewarm water until the water runs clear. Pay attention to the base of the tuft, where ink collects; ink that dries there hardens and can spoil the brush.
• Do not leave a brush standing in water for long periods. Water that reaches the handle can loosen the glue that holds the tuft.
• Shape the tip back to a point with your fingers, gently pressing out excess water on a cloth or paper.
• Dry it hanging tip-down, or lying flat, rather than standing upright, so that water does not run back into the base.
• For long storage, keep fine brushes in a box, away from dust and insects.

10. Pieces in Our Collection

A few examples of the brushes described above, all made by Akashiya in Nara. These are examples, not recommendations; the right brush is the one that suits your paper and your hand.

For kanji — Bangyoku No. 3. A blend of horse, raccoon dog, cow ear, and goat hair with a long tip, made by Akashiya as a large brush for kanji. Somewhat firm, so it keeps its point while still giving lively lines. (Bangyoku No. 3 calligraphy brush)

For kana — Kana brush No. 3, weasel and goat. Weasel hair blended with goat hair, with a medium tip, made for kana on vertical scrolls. The weasel hair gives spring; the goat hair carries ink for longer lines. (Kana calligraphy brush No. 3, weasel and goat hair)

For large characters — Kōzan Fūgetsu No. 10. A large brush of white horse-tail hair, firm enough to keep its shape under its own weight, for big characters on large paper. (Kozan Fugetsu No. 10 large calligraphy brush)

11. A Note from the Shop

All of the calligraphy brushes we carry come from one maker in Nara. On every one of them, the most useful lines are not the name but the hair, the length of the tip, and the use the maker gives for it.

If one detail stays with you, let it be the paper. Decide what you will write on, and the size of the brush follows. The hair you can choose by feel, and you will learn more about it from a month of writing than from any description.

12. Frequently Asked Questions

Q: What is a Japanese calligraphy brush called?
A fude (筆). Calligraphers speak of the futofude, or large brush, for the main characters, and the hosofude, or small brush, for names, letters, and kana. A complete brush is often called by its maker's name for it, such as Tenka or Shūten, much as a fountain pen might have a model name.

Q: What is a famous Japanese brush?
Nara brushes are regarded as the oldest tradition of brush making in Japan. Brushes are also made in other regions, among them Hiroshima and Aichi prefectures, each with its own history.

Q: What brush should a beginner use for Japanese calligraphy?
For practice on standard hanshi paper, a medium-tipped large brush of blended hair is a forgiving start, together with a small brush for writing your name. A stiffer brush is easier to control at first; softer, longer-tipped brushes reward more experience.

Q: Is goat hair good for calligraphy brushes?
Yes. Goat hair is soft and holds a great deal of ink, and it is the hair of many fine large brushes. It is less springy than weasel or horse, so it responds to every change of pressure; some people find this expressive, others find a blended brush easier to begin with.

Q: Can I leave a calligraphy brush soaking in water overnight?
It is better not to. Long soaking lets water reach the handle, where it can loosen the glue that holds the tuft. Rinse the brush, shape it, and hang it to dry instead.

Q: How can I tell if a brush is horse hair?
The product description is the most reliable guide. By feel, horse hair is stiffer and springs back more firmly than goat hair. Many brushes are blends, so the label matters more than the look.

Thank you for reading.

— from Osaka, Team Manekineko-Ai

PIECES IN THIS ARTICLE

Three brushes from this article

FOR KANJI Bangyoku No. 3 calligraphy brush US$ 99 VIEW THE PIECE

FOR KANA Kana brush No. 3, weasel and goat hair US$ 59 VIEW THE PIECE

FOR LARGE CHARACTERS Kōzan Fūgetsu No. 10 large brush US$ 400 VIEW THE PIECE

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A matcha bowl is the one piece of teaware you hold in both hands and look straight into. It is worth knowing what you are looking at.

Choosing a first matcha bowl, or chawan, can feel like choosing from hundreds of quiet variations: tall and short, wide and narrow, glossy and rough, porcelain and pottery and glass. The differences are not merely decorative. Each one changes how the bowl sits in the hand, how the whisk moves, how warm the tea stays, and what color the tea appears to be.

This guide walks through a chawan the way you might turn one over in a shop: its parts, its size, its shape and season, the clay behind it, and the inside you will be looking into every morning. At the end are a few examples from our collection, and a few common questions.

1. What a Chawan Does That an Ordinary Bowl Does Not

A serving of thin matcha (usucha) uses only a small amount of water. Yet the bowl it is made in looks generous, almost too large for what it holds. The extra room is for the whisk. A bamboo chasen is moved quickly back and forth through the tea, and it needs a wide, open floor and walls high enough to keep the tea from splashing over the rim.

The bowl is also made to be held. In the tea room, a chawan is lifted with both hands, one palm beneath it and the other at its side, and its walls carry the warmth of the tea to the fingers. Many bowls are thicker than a rice bowl of the same size for exactly this reason.

And the bowl is made to be looked into. After the tea is finished, there is a moment of looking at the inside: the glaze, the color left behind, the small hollow at the bottom. This is why the interior of a chawan matters as much as the outside.

2. The Parts of a Chawan, and What Each Tells You

Japanese tea culture has a name for almost every part of the bowl. Knowing a few of them makes it easier to see the differences between one chawan and the next.

Kuchi-zukuri (口造り), the rim. This is where the lips meet the bowl. Some rims are thin and even; others are thick, softly rounded, or gently uneven so that the line rises and falls around the bowl. A thicker rim tends to feel warmer and softer to drink from. A thin rim feels precise and light.

Dō (胴) and koshi (腰), the body and the lower wall. The body is the wall you hold. The koshi, literally the “waist,” is where the wall turns toward the base. A bowl with a full, rounded koshi sits deep in the palm. One with a sharp turn feels more upright.

Mikomi (見込み), the inside. The whole interior surface, the part you look into. Its color and texture decide how the green of the tea will appear, and how the whisk feels as it moves.

Chadamari (茶溜まり), the tea pool. A small, slight hollow at the center of the interior floor, where the last of the tea gathers. Some bowls have a clear, deliberate chadamari; in others it is barely there.

Kōdai (高台), the foot. The ring the bowl stands on. It is where the fingers rest when the bowl is lifted, and it is often where the maker’s hand shows most freely: carved, notched, left rough, or marked with the potter’s seal. On many pottery bowls the foot is left unglazed, and the bare clay shows its true color here.

Shōmen (正面), the front. Most decorated chawan have a front, usually the side with the main design. In the tea room, the host sets the bowl down with the front facing the guest. The guest, out of modesty, turns the bowl slightly before drinking so as not to drink from the front, then turns it back before setting it down. At home, no one needs to follow this, but knowing where the front is helps you see the bowl the way its maker intended.

3. Size: What the Numbers Show

Rather than quote a single “standard size,” we gathered the measurements listed on our own product pages. Of the 298 matcha bowls in our collection with dimensions listed, the middle half measure between 11 and 12.5 cm (about 4.3 to 4.9 inches) across the rim, and between 7 and 8 cm (2.8 to 3.1 inches) tall. That range is a good picture of an everyday chawan: wide enough for a whisk to move freely, small enough to cradle in two hands.

Two other sizes are worth knowing. At the small end are bowls of around 11 cm or smaller, some of them sold under the name hime (“princess”) chawan. They suit smaller hands and lighter, quicker servings. At the other end are the wide, shallow summer bowls, which in our collection run 14 to 15 cm across but only 5 to 6 cm tall.

If you are unsure, a bowl around 12 cm across and 7 to 8 cm tall is a forgiving place to begin. Hold your hands as if around a bowl of that size before you choose; it is usually clear at once whether it will feel right.

4. Shape and Season

The shape of a chawan affects how quickly the tea cools, how easily it is whisked, and how it feels in the hand. Over time, certain shapes became linked with certain seasons.

Wan-nari (椀形), the rounded bowl. The familiar shape, close to a deep rice bowl, with a curved wall and an open mouth. It is used all year, whisks easily, and is the shape most first bowls take.

Hira-jawan (平茶碗), the flat bowl. Wide and shallow, with a large surface of tea open to the air. The tea cools more quickly and looks cool, which is why flat bowls are brought out in summer. They need a little more care when whisking, since the walls are low.

Tsutsu-jawan (筒茶碗), the cylindrical bowl. Tall, with straight sides and a narrower mouth. Less surface means the tea holds its warmth, and the tall wall warms the hands, so this shape belongs to the coldest months. Bowls between the rounded and cylindrical shapes are called han-tsutsu, “half-cylinder.”

Kutsu-gata (沓形) and faceted bowls. In the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries, bowls made in the Mino region in the taste of the tea master Furuta Oribe were pushed out of round on purpose, into an uneven shape likened to the lacquered wooden shoes (kutsu) once worn by court nobles. Today you will also see bowls with flat facets cut into the wall, called mentori (面取). These are less about season and more about how the light falls across the surface.

Painted bowls follow the calendar in their own way. Cherry blossoms appear in spring, morning glories and goldfish in summer, maple leaves in autumn, and plum blossoms in late winter. A seasonal design used in its season is part of the pleasure. Used out of season, it is still a beautiful bowl; it simply speaks a little more quietly.

5. The Clay Behind the Bowl

The material and the place a chawan comes from shape its weight, its warmth, and how it changes over the years. A saying long repeated among tea people ranks the most prized tea-bowl wares as “first Raku, second Hagi, third Karatsu” (ichi Raku, ni Hagi, san Karatsu). It is a matter of taste rather than a rule, but it is a good place to start.

Raku (楽焼), Kyoto. Raku bowls are shaped by hand rather than thrown on the wheel, and fired at a comparatively low temperature. The technique began in Kyoto in the late sixteenth century with the potter Chōjirō, working under the guidance of the tea master Sen no Rikyū. The result is a soft, light body that is often described as holding heat well, so the bowl feels warm rather than hot. Red raku and black raku are the two classic types; black raku is pulled from the kiln while still glowing and cooled in the open air. Many Kyoto potters today also make bowls in the raku style, in the same red and black.

Hagi (萩焼), Yamaguchi. Hagi clay is soft and coarse, and its glaze is covered in fine crackle. Over years of use, tea slowly enters those fine lines and the color of the bowl deepens and shifts, a change tea people have long called “the seven transformations of Hagi.” The foot is often left unglazed and slightly rough. More about this is in our guide to Hagi ware.

Karatsu (唐津焼), Saga. Plain, earthy bowls with simple brushwork or none at all, valued for their directness. In our collection there are Karatsu bowls as well as bowls made in the Karatsu style by Arita kilns.

Mino (美濃焼), Gifu: Shino and Oribe. In the late sixteenth century, the Mino kilns produced bowls shaped by the tea taste of the time. Shino (志野) is covered in a thick, milky white glaze, often with soft pinholes and a warm blush where the glaze thins. Oribe (織部) is known for its deep green copper glaze and bold, uneven forms. Both are still made in Mino today, alongside many modern glazes. More on the region is in our guide to Mino ware.

Kyoto and Kiyomizu ware (京焼・清水焼). Kyoto potters work in almost every style, but they are especially known for painted bowls: seasonal flowers, auspicious figures, fine overglaze color. If you are looking for a bowl with a clear picture on it, Kyoto is where much of that tradition lives.

Porcelain: Kutani, Arita, Hasami. Porcelain bowls are thinner, smoother, and lighter in color than pottery. They are less common in formal tea, where pottery bowls are traditional, but they are well loved for everyday matcha. The white interior shows the green of the tea brightly, and the hard surface does not absorb color. Kutani bowls in particular are known for rich overglaze painting and gold.

Glass: Edo glass and Tsugaru vidro. Glass chawan are a summer tradition. Tea in a glass bowl looks especially fresh, and the bowl itself feels cool. Edo glass comes from Tokyo, and Tsugaru vidro from Aomori, where the glass is often colored to suggest the seasons. Some glass bowls are made from heat-resistant glass and others from ordinary soda glass, so the product notes for each piece are worth reading before pouring in hot water.

6. Looking Inside: Color, Texture, and the Green of the Tea

Because you spend the most time looking into a chawan, the interior deserves its own moment.

Color. A dark interior, such as black raku or a deep brown glaze, makes the green of the tea look rich and almost glowing. A white or pale interior, such as Shino or porcelain, makes it look bright and fresh. Neither is better. They simply show the same tea in two different lights.

Texture. A smooth interior lets the whisk glide. A very rough or gritty interior can catch on the fine tips of the bamboo, which is one reason most chawan are glazed inside even when the outside is left more natural.

Crackle. Crackled glazes, common on Hagi and some Shino, slowly take on the color of the tea. Some people love watching a bowl change over years; others prefer a bowl that stays as it was the day it arrived. If you are in the second group, a porcelain or glass bowl, or a pottery bowl without crackle, will keep its color.

7. Weight and the Hand

Pick a bowl up whenever you can, or read its measurements closely when you cannot. Raku is usually the lightest for its size. Thick pottery bowls from Mino or Shigaraki feel more grounded. Porcelain is often thinner but dense.

There is no correct weight. A heavier bowl feels steady and calm; a lighter one feels intimate and easy to lift. Look also at the foot: a taller foot gives the fingers something to rest on, while a low foot makes the bowl sit closer to the palm.

8. Living with a Chawan

Every bowl comes with its own needs, and the maker’s notes are the best guide. A few things hold for most:

• Before first use, rinse the bowl in warm water. For absorbent pottery such as Hagi, some makers suggest soaking it in water before its first use; follow the note that comes with the piece.
• Before each use, many people warm the bowl with hot water and then empty it. A warm bowl keeps the tea from cooling too quickly, and with absorbent pottery, a damp surface takes up less color from the tea.
• After use, rinse with warm water. Mild dish soap is fine for most glazed and porcelain bowls; for absorbent pottery, follow the maker’s guidance.
• Dry fully before putting away, especially pottery with crackle or an unglazed foot, which hold moisture longer than they appear to.
• Microwave and dishwasher use depends on the piece. Some glass and porcelain bowls are labeled as suitable; bowls with gold or silver decoration are generally kept out of the microwave. Check each product’s notes rather than assuming.
• A crack or a leak is a sign to stop using the bowl for drinking. A bowl can still be kept and enjoyed as an object.

9. Pieces in Our Collection

A few examples of the shapes and wares described above. These are examples, not recommendations; the right bowl is the one that feels right to you.

A smaller bowl — Mino ware. An 11 cm bowl sold as a Hime Chawan, in a turquoise-blue glaze sold as Ao Shino (“blue Shino”), sized for smaller hands and lighter servings. (Mino ware Ao Shino Hime Chawan)

Red raku in the Kyoto style — Kiyomizu ware. A red raku bowl by a Kyoto potter, 11 cm across, with the marks the fire leaves on its surface. (Kyo Kiyomizu ware Aka Raku matcha bowl)

A faceted Oribe bowl — Kiyomizu ware. Coarse clay cut into strong facets and finished in Oribe green, 12 cm across and 9 cm tall. (Kyo Kiyomizu ware Oribe Mentori chawan)

A wide glass bowl — Tsugaru vidro. A wide glass chawan from Aomori, made from heat-resistant glass according to its product notes. (Tsugaru vidro glass matcha bowl)

A Hagi bowl that changes with use — Hagi ware. A crackled Hagi chawan by Kunisuke Nakamura, its white glaze drawn into a pebbled, shrunken texture known as kairagi, with the clay showing through in places. (Hagi ware Kairagi chawan by Kunisuke)

10. A Note from the Shop

We carry more than three hundred matcha bowls, and looking across them, one thing is clear: there is no single correct bowl. A bowl from a famous kiln and a simple bowl made for daily use whisk the same tea. What changes is how the bowl feels in your hands, and what you see when you look into it.

If one detail in this guide stays with you, let it be the size. A bowl of about 12 cm that you reach for every morning will teach you more about matcha than a perfect bowl kept in its box.

11. Frequently Asked Questions

Q: I’m new to matcha. How do I choose my first bowl?
Start with size and shape rather than ware. A rounded bowl of about 12 cm across and 7 to 8 cm tall gives the whisk room and sits comfortably in two hands. A pale interior makes it easier to see how well the tea has been whisked. After that, choose the clay and design you enjoy looking at.

Q: Is an inexpensive chawan worse for making matcha?
Not in itself. A well-made everyday bowl of the right size whisks just as well as a costly one. Price usually reflects the maker, the kiln, hand work such as painting or shaping, and sometimes a wooden box. What matters for daily use is size, a smooth interior, and how the bowl feels to hold.

Q: Are chawan still made and used in Japan today?
Yes. Tea bowls are made in almost every major ceramic region in Japan, from Kyoto and Mino to Hagi, Karatsu, Kutani, and Arita. They are used in tea ceremony practice and, more and more, simply at home for a daily bowl of matcha.

Q: Can I pour hot water into a glass matcha bowl?
It depends on the glass. Some glass chawan are made from heat-resistant glass and are labeled for hot water and even the microwave; others are made from ordinary soda glass and are better suited to cooler or iced matcha. Each product page lists the material, and that note is the one to follow.

Q: Can I make a matcha latte in a chawan?
Yes. Many people whisk the matcha in the chawan with a little water, then pour it over milk in a glass or cup. A bowl with a slightly wider mouth makes pouring easier.

Q: My Hagi bowl is changing color. Is something wrong?
No. Tea gradually enters the fine crackle of the glaze and darkens it. This slow change is one of the reasons Hagi bowls have been treasured by tea people for centuries. If you would rather slow it, warming and wetting the bowl before each use is often said to help.

Thank you for reading.

— from Osaka, Team Manekineko-Ai

PIECES IN THIS ARTICLE

Three bowls from this article

THE ONE TO START WITH Kiyomizu ware Oribe mentori chawan US$ 112 VIEW THE PIECE

THE ONE FOR SUMMER Tsugaru vidro glass matcha bowl US$ 45 VIEW THE PIECE

THE ONE THAT CHANGES WITH USE Hagi ware kairagi chawan, Kunisuke US$ 530 VIEW THE PIECE

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MORE IN KOGEI →

KOGEI Kyo-yaki and Kiyomizu-yaki: A Guide to Kyoto’s Many-Styled Pottery How to read Kyoto’s many styles, from overglaze color and gold to kōchi, crystalline glaze and raku. KOGEI Hagi Ware — A Guide to Japan’s Slowly Changing Pottery Pale, crackled glaze that slowly changes color with use, and how to choose a piece. KOGEI What Is Mino Ware? The Everyday Japanese Ceramic You Probably Already Own The region behind Shino and Oribe, and much of the everyday tableware made in Japan.

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Set ten pieces of Kiyomizu-yaki side by side and they may look as if they came from ten different places. That variety is the craft itself.

Many Japanese pottery regions are known for a signature look. Bizen is unglazed and fire-marked. Hagi is soft and crackled. Arita is often associated with white porcelain painted in blue. Kyoto pottery, known as Kyo-yaki (京焼) or Kiyomizu-yaki (清水焼), does not work that way. A Kyoto teacup may be painted in fine gold, covered in a glaze full of frost-like crystals, outlined in bright yellow and green, or glazed to look like a bowl from another region entirely.

This guide is about reading that variety. It begins with what you notice when you hold a piece, explains briefly why Kyoto pottery turned out this way, and then walks through the styles you are most likely to meet. After that come pottery and porcelain, choosing and giving a piece, and everyday care, with a few examples from our collection and common questions at the end.

1. What You Notice When You Hold a Piece of Kyo-yaki

The first thing is that there is no single “Kyoto look.” In our own collection, more than a thousand pieces are listed as Kiyomizu-yaki, and they range from cobalt-blue teacups to black raku tea bowls to rice bowls in a milky white slip. What they share is not a color or a clay, but a level of finish.

Look closely at the painting. On a hand-painted piece, the lines are fine and confident, and the color sits exactly where it was meant to. Petals are shaded, leaves have veins, and a narrow band of gold may run along the rim. Kyoto pottery has long been described as delicate and elegant, and it is in this small, careful work that the description becomes clear.

Then feel the weight. Because Kyoto potters make both pottery and porcelain, two cups of the same size can feel quite different. A pottery cup is usually thicker and warmer in the hand. A porcelain cup is often thinner, harder, and cool to the touch. Both are Kiyomizu-yaki.

2. Why Kyoto Pottery Looks So Varied

The short answer is clay, or rather the lack of it. Kyoto does not produce its own pottery stone or clay in any quantity, so its potters have long brought in materials from other regions, such as Amakusa in Kumamoto and Shigaraki in Shiga, and blended them for each kind of piece.

A region without its own clay cannot become known for the color of its earth. Kyoto became known instead for design and skill. For centuries the city was home to the imperial court, great temples, and demanding tea masters, and its potters worked for them. They learned to paint, to glaze, and to borrow and refine techniques from other kilns. That habit of drawing in skills from elsewhere is the reason a Kyoto piece today can look like almost anything.

3. A Short History: From Tea Rooms to Porcelain

Kyoto pottery grew up alongside the tea ceremony. Around 1600, tea bowls and tea utensils were being made in kilns around the eastern hills of the city. In the mid-1600s the potter Nonomura Ninsei, working at Omuro in the northwest of Kyoto, perfected a style of richly painted pottery in overglaze enamels and gold.

In 1699 Ogata Kenzan, who had learned from Ninsei, opened his own kiln and brought a painter’s freedom to the surface of the pot, often working with his brother, the painter Ogata Kōrin.

In the late eighteenth century, Okuda Eisen began firing porcelain in Kyoto, and the potters who followed him, including Aoki Mokubei and Ninnami Dōhachi, made porcelain part of the Kyoto tradition. In the Meiji era, Kyoto invited the German scientist Gottfried Wagener and took in new techniques from abroad.

The name Kiyomizu-yaki is said to come from the slopes leading up to Kiyomizu-dera temple, around Gojōzaka, where many potters gathered. Broadly, “Kyo-yaki” refers to Kyoto pottery as a whole, especially before the modern era, and “Kiyomizu-yaki” is the name more often used from the Meiji era onward. Today the two are joined: in 1977, “Kyo-yaki and Kiyomizu-yaki” was designated a traditional craft of Japan.

Production has spread from the eastern hills to Yamashina, to the Sumiyama area of Uji, and to other towns in Kyoto Prefecture, and much of the work is still done by hand in small workshops.

4. Reading the Styles You Will Meet

Here are the styles that appear most often among Kiyomizu-yaki pieces, with a few clues for recognizing each. Many pieces combine two or more.

Iro-e and gold (色絵・金彩). Painting in colored overglaze enamels, applied after the main firing and fixed in a second, lower firing. This is the style most closely tied to Kyoto’s name, the line that runs back to Ninsei. Look for soft reds, greens, and blues sitting slightly raised on the glaze, often with gold or silver added. Seasonal flowers, autumn grasses, and auspicious motifs are common subjects.

Sometsuke (染付). Painting in cobalt blue under the glaze, so that the blue lies beneath a clear, glossy surface. On a Kyoto piece, sometsuke is often loose and painterly rather than strictly patterned: a grapevine curling around a cup, or a combed blue line around the foot.

Kōchi (交趾). Bright, low-fired glazes in yellow, green, purple, and blue, kept apart by thin raised lines of clay, so that each color sits in its own small compartment. The original wares, sometimes called Cochin ware in English, were made in southern China; the name comes from Kōchi (交趾, Cochin), an old name for a region of present-day Vietnam through which they are said to have reached Japan. Kyoto potters were making pieces in this style by the late eighteenth century, including Okuda Eisen, and the Eiraku family of potters later took it up as well. Kōchi pieces are vivid, and they are often small: sake cups, chopstick rests, incense burners.

Crystalline glaze (結晶釉). A glaze in which crystals grow as the kiln cools, leaving patterns like frost, flowers, or snowflakes spread across the surface. No two pieces form their crystals in the same way. Crystalline glazes are among the most common finishes in our Kiyomizu collection, especially on teacups and sake cups.

Kohiki and Mishima (粉引・三島). Both use white slip over a darker clay. In kohiki, the whole piece is covered in slip, giving a soft, powdery white with the darker clay showing faintly at the edges. In Mishima, small patterns are stamped or carved into the clay and filled with white slip, so the design sits flush in the surface. Both feel gentle and earthy, and both are pottery rather than porcelain.

Raku style (楽). Raku ware began in Kyoto in the late sixteenth century, shaped by hand without a wheel and fired at a relatively low temperature. It is light for its size and warm to hold. Many Kyoto potters also make pieces in the raku style, in the classic red and black, from tea bowls to small chopstick rests.

Tenmoku (天目). A dark, iron-rich glaze, from deep brown to black, that turns amber or rust where it runs thin over the rim. Some tenmoku glazes break into streaks or spots of color as they fire. It is a quiet style, often chosen for sake cups and tea bowls.

Glazes borrowed from other kilns. You may find a Kiyomizu tea bowl in the soft yellow of Ki-Seto, the milky white of Shino, or the deep green of Oribe, all glazes first made famous in the Seto and Mino region. This is not a labeling error. Kyoto potters have long worked in the manner of other kilns, a practice called utsushi (写し), and many Kiyomizu pieces carry it on. The piece is still made in Kyoto; it simply speaks in another region’s voice.

5. Pottery or Porcelain: Telling Them Apart

Because Kyoto makes both, it helps to know which one you are holding. The difference affects how the piece feels, how it sounds, and how it should be cared for.

Look at the foot. On the underside, many pieces leave a ring of clay unglazed. On pottery this ring is usually tan, gray, or reddish, and slightly rough. On porcelain it is white and fine-grained.

Feel the weight and the wall. Pottery tends to have a thicker wall and feels soft and warm. Porcelain is usually thinner for its size, hard, and smooth.

Listen. Tapped lightly with a fingernail, porcelain usually gives a clear, high ring. Pottery gives a lower, softer sound.

Hold it to the light. Thin porcelain may let a little light through. Pottery does not.

When you cannot hold a piece, the product page is the place to look. Most of our Kiyomizu listings state whether the piece is pottery or porcelain, and that note decides much of the care described below.

6. How to Choose a Piece

Start with how you will use it. A yunomi teacup, a rice bowl, a sake cup, or a set of chopstick rests will each be held and used in a different way. Kyoto pottery is made in all of these, so the use narrows the choice more quickly than the style.

Choose pottery or porcelain by feel. If you like a cup that is warm and soft in the hand and changes slowly with use, pottery is the natural choice. If you want something thin, hard-wearing, and easy to keep bright, porcelain suits better.

Read the painting. On a hand-painted piece, each line varies slightly, and a set of cups will differ a little from one cup to the next. Some everyday pieces are decorated with printed or stamped patterns instead, which are more uniform. Both have their place; the listing usually says which it is.

Check the measurements. Kyoto pieces are often smaller and finer than tableware made for Western tables. A Japanese teacup holds less than a mug, and a rice bowl is sized to be lifted to the mouth. The listed size is more reliable than a photograph.

Let the season guide you, if you like. Cherry blossoms for spring, morning glories for summer, maple leaves for autumn, plum or camellia for late winter. A seasonal piece used in its season is a small pleasure; a piece with a year-round motif, such as autumn grasses or arabesques, can stay out all year.

7. For Whom, and as a Gift

Kyoto pottery suits people who enjoy detail: those who notice the shading in a petal or the line of gold on a rim, and who like their everyday things to be a little more considered than they need to be. It also suits tea drinkers, since so much of Kyoto’s tradition grew up around tea.

As a gift, Kiyomizu-yaki carries the quiet refinement of the old capital. Pairs of teacups or rice bowls in two sizes, known as meoto (夫婦), are traditionally given for weddings and anniversaries. Auspicious motifs such as cranes, mandarin ducks, and pine, bamboo, and plum carry wishes for long life and lasting partnership. And small pieces such as chopstick rests, often sold in sets with seasonal or lucky shapes, make a light gift that is easy to send.

8. Using and Caring for Kyo-yaki

Every piece comes with its own needs, and the notes on its product page are the best guide. A few things hold for most:

• Wash gently by hand with warm water and a soft sponge. Avoid abrasive pads, which can wear away gold, silver, and overglaze painting over time.
• Gold and silver do not go in the microwave. Pieces with metallic decoration should also be kept out of the dishwasher. For other pieces, check the listing; some are labeled as suitable and many are not.
• Pottery absorbs a little water. Let it dry fully before putting it away, especially an unglazed foot. Some people rinse a pottery cup in water before use so that it takes up less color from tea.
• Expect small differences. Hand-painted lines, the size of crystals in a glaze, and the spread of a raku glaze vary from piece to piece. These are part of handwork, not defects.
• A crack or a chip is a sign to stop using a cup or bowl for food and drink. It can still be kept and enjoyed as an object.

9. Pieces in Our Collection

A few examples of the styles described above. These are examples, not recommendations; the right piece is the one that suits your table.

A crystalline glaze teacup. A sencha cup in white and blue, with crystals spread across the glaze like flowers. Each cup forms its own pattern in the kiln. (See the teacup) — Kiyomizu-yaki yunomi, crystal flower, white and blue — $65

A pair of rice bowls with mandarin ducks. Two kohiki rice bowls in a larger and a smaller size, painted with mandarin ducks, a traditional image of a devoted couple. (See the pair) — Kiyomizu-yaki kohiki pair rice bowls, mandarin ducks — $152

A tea bowl in the manner of Ninsei. A pottery matcha bowl decorated with bamboo and gold leaf, in the painted style that runs back to Ninsei. (See the tea bowl) — Kiyomizu-yaki matcha bowl, bamboo, Ninsei style — $298

10. A Note from the Shop

Kiyomizu-yaki is one of the largest parts of our collection, and also one of the hardest to describe in a single sentence. When we look across it, what stays with us is not one style but a habit of care: a potter who could have stopped at a plain glaze, and chose to add one more line of gold.

Even a small teacup shows the painting, the glaze, and the hand of the maker as clearly as any larger piece.

11. Frequently Asked Questions

Q: What is Kiyomizu ware?
Kiyomizu ware (Kiyomizu-yaki) is pottery and porcelain made in Kyoto, named after the area around Kiyomizu-dera temple where many potters gathered. It has no single look: it is known instead for fine painting, gold, and a wide range of glazes and styles. Today it is designated a traditional craft of Japan together with Kyo-yaki.

Q: What does “Kiyomizu” mean?
Kiyomizu (清水) means “pure water.” Kiyomizu-dera temple takes its name from the clear water of the Otowa Waterfall on its grounds, and Kiyomizu-yaki in turn is said to take its name from the temple and the slopes leading up to it.

Q: What is the difference between Kyo ware and Kiyomizu ware?
Kyo ware (Kyo-yaki) is the broad name for pottery and porcelain made in Kyoto, especially before the modern era. Kiyomizu ware is the name more often used from the Meiji era onward. Today they are treated as one craft, designated together as “Kyo-yaki and Kiyomizu-yaki.”

Q: Is Kiyomizu ware still made in Kyoto today?
Yes. Potters work in the Higashiyama area near Kiyomizu-dera, in Yamashina, in the Sumiyama area of Uji, and in other parts of Kyoto Prefecture. Much of the work is still done by hand in small family workshops, with tasks such as throwing, painting, and firing often divided among specialists.

Q: Is Kiyomizu ware valuable? Is an inexpensive piece lower in quality?
For a new piece, price usually reflects how much of it is done by hand, how much gold or detailed painting it carries, the kiln, and whether it comes in a wooden box. Some everyday pieces use molds or printed patterns, which keeps them affordable and uniform; they are still made in Kyoto and well suited to daily use. The value of an older piece depends on its maker, age, and condition, and is a question for a specialist in antiques rather than a general guide.

Q: How can you tell if a Japanese piece is raku?
Raku is shaped by hand without a wheel and fired at a relatively low temperature, so it tends to feel light and warm for its size, often with a soft, slightly uneven form and a thick, gentle glaze in black or red. (In English, “raku” can also mean a Western smoke-fired technique; this answer is about Japanese raku.) Many Kyoto pieces are made in the raku style, and the product name usually says so.

Q: I’m new to Kyo-yaki. Where should I start?
With a piece you will use every day, such as a yunomi teacup or a rice bowl. Choose pottery or porcelain by the feel you prefer, then choose the style you most enjoy looking at. A daily piece teaches you more about Kyoto pottery than a special one kept in its box.

Q: Is Kiyomizu ware dishwasher and microwave safe?
It depends on the piece, so the notes on each product page are the ones to follow. The care section above covers the general points.

Thank you for reading.

— from Osaka, Team Manekineko-Ai

PIECES IN THIS ARTICLE

Three pieces from this article

THE ONE FOR EVERY DAY Kiyomizu-yaki yunomi, crystal flower US$ 65 VIEW THE PIECE

THE ONE TO GIVE Kiyomizu-yaki pair rice bowls, mandarin ducks US$ 152 VIEW THE PIECE

THE ONE FOR TEA Kiyomizu-yaki matcha bowl, bamboo US$ 298 VIEW THE PIECE

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KOGEI What Is Arita Ware? A Guide to Japan’s Oldest Porcelain How Arita porcelain feels in the hand, its main styles, and why it is also called Imari. KOGEI What Is Kutani Ware? Kutani’s rich overglaze colors, its history, and how a piece is made. KOGEI Hagi Ware — A Guide to Japan’s Slowly Changing Pottery Pale, crackled glaze that slowly changes color with use, and how to choose a piece.

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What would you reach for first: a warm skewer, a cool piece of tofu, or the last slice of rolled omelet? A few small dishes sit between the glasses, each offering a different bite. There is room for another plate, and no particular reason to hurry.

An izakaya is a casual Japanese drinking and dining place where food and conversation share the evening. At home, try several dishes to share, something refreshing to drink, and small plates for making your own combinations.

Start with food you enjoy and know how to prepare. The pleasure comes from moving between flavors and textures—and noticing a familiar ingredient when it arrives in its own little bowl.

1. What belongs on an izakaya-at-home menu?

For a first evening, try one vegetable dish, one soft or delicate dish, and one warm centerpiece. Add rice if you want a fuller dinner. Think of this as a starting point to adapt to your appetite.

Edamame, chilled tofu, and grilled chicken make one possible trio. Cucumber, rolled omelet, and sautéed mushrooms make another. Think about the contrast between bites rather than collecting as many recipes as possible. If two dishes are rich and strongly seasoned, a simpler vegetable dish gives you somewhere else to go next.

Let the warm dish be the only thing that needs your attention near serving time. Simple accompaniments leave you more time at the table, where you can enjoy the food too.

For two people, picture a shared plate in the middle and a few small dishes around it. For more guests, repeat the dishes along the table so everyone can reach, adjusting quantities to their appetites.

2. Five dishes that bring different bites to the table

Edamame: a green beginning

Edamame are young soybeans, often served in their pods. They make an inviting first dish: bright green, lightly salted, and easy to return to between other bites. The beans are eaten; the pods are left behind.

Choose a bowl with room to lift a pod, and set an empty bowl nearby for the shells. That small detail keeps the shared plate pleasant as the meal continues. Frozen edamame can be an approachable starting point; use the preparation directions on the package.

Hiyayakko: cool tofu and a little sharpness

Hiyayakko is chilled tofu served with toppings. A simple version with scallions, grated ginger, and soy sauce offers a soft bite with a sharper finish. It is also a lovely place to notice the bowl: pale tofu, green scallions, and a little dark sauce against the glaze.

A small bowl gives the tofu and sauce somewhere to settle. Keep extra seasoning separate so each person can decide how much to add. For a plant-based table, choose plant-based toppings too; bonito flakes, a familiar tofu topping, are made from fish.

Tamagoyaki: a few golden slices

Tamagoyaki is a Japanese rolled omelet. Its cut edges reveal layers, making a few slices feel generous in detail even on a compact plate. Depending on the recipe, the flavor may lean sweeter or more savory.

For an easy evening, a prepared omelet can sit alongside something cooked at home. A narrow plate gives the slices a clear place on the table; a plain round plate works too. Leave space to lift a piece without disturbing the whole row.

A warm plate: chicken or mushrooms

Yakitori means grilled chicken, commonly served on skewers. If skewers are the dish you want to make, choose a recipe suited to your cooking equipment. You can also build this home menu around a familiar chicken dish without calling it yakitori.

Cooked mushrooms offer another warm centerpiece, with browned edges and savory juices beside the cooler tofu and vegetables. Give them a serving dish with a little depth if you want to keep those juices with each portion. The contrast is part of the pleasure: a warm, savory bite followed by the clean taste of tofu or the crunch of cucumber.

A fresh, crisp contrast

A small cucumber dish brings crunch between softer bites. Japanese pickles are another possibility; they are called tsukemono, a broad name covering different pickled vegetables and methods.

For a first spread, purchased pickles are perfectly reasonable. Serve a little, taste them with the rest of the food, and add more if wanted. A tiny dish keeps their seasoning separate from the omelet or tofu. A few pieces can also bring a new color to a table that otherwise leans golden and brown.

3. Let the evening arrive a plate at a time

An izakaya-inspired dinner does not have to appear as one perfectly synchronized spread. At home, you might begin with the vegetable dish, then bring the warm food when it is ready. The next plate gives the conversation a small interruption: something new to taste, pass, or compare.

Keep the sequence simple enough that you can sit down too. Begin with one freshly cooked dish, and bring another warm plate later if you enjoy making more.

Rice can make the evening feel more like dinner when the smaller dishes are not enough. Plain rice leaves the side dishes in the foreground. For another evening, the shop's onigiri article offers ideas for filled Japanese rice balls.

Tea or sparkling water works for a home version; alcohol is optional. Choose glasses or cups that suit your drink, with room to put them down comfortably between the dishes.

4. Small plates, small bowls, and a place for each person

The serving dishes hold the shared food. Each diner also needs somewhere to put a portion. In izakaya dining, an individual side plate is often called a torizara: a plate for taking food from a shared dish.

A little plate filled with pickles is already doing a job; someone taking chicken needs a separate place for it. Set out a personal plate for each diner and add serving utensils where they make sharing easier.

A small bowl—kobachi in Japanese—is a helpful companion for tofu, a dressed vegetable dish, or anything with a little liquid. A flatter plate gives omelet slices or other relatively dry bites an open surface. Start with what the food needs, then enjoy choosing the pattern.

For a first addition to your cupboard, consider the dish you make most often. If you regularly serve tofu or dressed vegetables, browse the Small Bowls / Kobachi collection. If you want a place for a few pickles, a small accompaniment, or a separate portion, explore Small Plate. Check individual dimensions: a category can include several sizes and shapes, and a tiny sauce dish will not do the same job as a personal side plate.

One repeated color can connect different patterns: a blue line on one plate, a blue flower on another, and a plain bowl between them. Try it if you like a mixed table; matching everything is optional.

5. A smaller spread can be the better evening

It is tempting to recreate a photograph with ten dishes and barely a patch of table showing. For an ordinary evening, three foods you enjoy may be more inviting—and leave you time to taste them.

Leave space for the warm plate before it arrives. As dishes empty, bring the remaining bites closer together so they are easy to share.

You can make the table colorful without adding more cooking. A patterned rim around plain tofu, a green vegetable beside golden egg, or a small dish of pickles gives the eye somewhere to pause. Let some of the ceramic remain visible rather than covering every surface with food.

Use your everyday plates and add a small bowl where you need one. After a few evenings, you will know which shapes earn their place.

6. FAQ: izakaya food and your table at home

Q: What is izakaya food?

Izakaya food is the varied food served in casual Japanese pubs, often ordered as dishes to share alongside drinks. It is not one particular dish. A home version can bring that variety to dinner with a few contrasting bites, such as edamame, chilled tofu, and a warm grilled dish.

Q: What are some popular dishes at izakayas?

Common choices include edamame, yakitori (grilled chicken skewers), karaage (fried chicken), sashimi, and pickled vegetables. Menus differ by restaurant. For the home spread in this article, start with the dishes you feel comfortable preparing and add a ready-made accompaniment if it makes the evening easier.

Q: What is the difference between izakaya and yakitori?

An izakaya is a type of drinking and dining establishment; yakitori is grilled chicken, commonly served on skewers. Yakitori may be one dish on an izakaya menu, and there are also restaurants that specialize in it. Your home menu can include chicken skewers without making every dish grilled.

Q: Do I need special plates for an izakaya-style dinner at home?

Everyday side plates and small bowls are enough to begin. Give each diner a personal plate for taking portions from shared dishes. Choose a small bowl for tofu or dressed vegetables with liquid, and a flatter plate for omelet slices. Check dimensions when choosing new pieces so they suit the portions you actually serve.

Q: Can I make a vegetarian izakaya-style menu?

Yes. For a home version, combine edamame, chilled tofu, mushrooms, vegetables, and rice. Check stocks, sauces, toppings, and prepared foods: a vegetable dish may still contain fish-based dashi or bonito flakes. Choose ingredients that match the dietary needs of everyone at the table.

A little room remains between the plates. Someone takes another piece of omelet; the mushroom dish passes back across the table. Perhaps that is the part of the evening worth bringing home—the pleasure of a few different bites, with time to enjoy them.

Explore our Small Plate and Small Bowls / Kobachi collections →

PIECES TO START WITH

Three pieces to start with

PICK 1 Shigaraki mamezara, blue Tsuyukusa glaze US$ 45 VIEW THE PIECE

PICK 2 Arita serving plate, black seigaiha US$ 59 VIEW THE PIECE

PICK 3 Shigaraki small plate, turquoise blue, 10 cm US$ 39 VIEW THE PIECE

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RECIPES & TABLE SETTING Japanese Hot Pot at Home: From One Pot to Your Own Bowl One pot on the table, from yosenabe and shabu-shabu to the donabe, the dipping sauce and the udon at the end. RECIPES & TABLE SETTING How to Plate a Japanese Meal at Home — Vessels, Placement, and Space A practical guide to plating Japanese food at home: which vessels do the work, where each one goes on the table, and how space, height, and odd numbers shape a Japanese meal. RECIPES & TABLE SETTING The Culture of Japanese Ramen Ramen is shaped not only by its recipe but by the bowl that holds it.

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What would make everyone linger over one more bowl? Steam rises from the pot in the middle, with small bowls waiting beside each pair of chopsticks.

Japanese hot pot at home begins with that shared space. There is something to pass, something to dip, and room for the next helping. The pot draws everyone toward the center; the bowl in front of each person makes the meal their own.

Nabe is the word you will meet for Japanese hot-pot dishes. For a first evening, three names offer useful starting points: yosenabe, shabu-shabu, and sukiyaki. Each suggests a different flavor, and a slightly different place for the small bowl beside your plate. Choosing the one that sounds good is a more inviting beginning than assembling an entire new cupboard.

Three kinds of nabe for a shared table

Picture a light broth with fish, tofu, and vegetables. A cod yosenabe recipe from Japan’s Ministry of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries brings those ingredients together with mushrooms and greens. Soy sauce and salt season the broth; ponzu is an optional addition at the table. It is one example of yosenabe, a mixed hot pot, rather than a fixed list every household must follow.

For a reader drawn to broth and a varied bowlful, that is an appealing place to start. Imagine a piece of fish, a fold of cabbage, and tofu sharing the same little bowl. The pleasure is in the contrast within that one serving: soft tofu beside leafy cabbage, a piece of fish, then a spoonful of broth. There is room to notice each ingredient.

Shabu-shabu offers another direction: thinly sliced meat, vegetables, and tofu in a clear broth, with ponzu or sesame sauce alongside. Here, the dipping bowls are part of the picture from the beginning. One holds a sharper, citrus-led flavor; another offers sesame richness. The interest lies partly in moving between the pot and those separate tastes.

Sukiyaki takes a sweeter, more savory route. Beef and vegetables meet a seasoning of soy sauce, mirin, and sugar, often called warishita. Its darker sauce makes a different visual impression from the clear broth of shabu-shabu. There are regional approaches to preparing it, but a first introduction need not become a map of every variation.

These three names are invitations to choose a mood: a mixed bowlful, a meal with dipping sauces, or sweet-savory richness. Once a dish has caught your attention, a dedicated recipe can supply its quantities and cooking directions. This is the table around that recipe: the pot, the bowls, and the space between them.

Do you need a donabe?

A donabe is a Japanese earthenware cooking pot. It can be a lovely centerpiece, but it is not a requirement for enjoying nabe. A suitable pot already in the kitchen may be the starting point for the recipe you choose. The shared meal does not depend on everyone owning the same kind of cookware.

It helps to keep the two words separate. Nabe names the meal here; donabe names a type of vessel. A picture of a clay pot may capture the atmosphere you want, without becoming a shopping list that has to be completed before dinner.

For anyone considering a donabe, the product’s own directions govern heat-source compatibility, seasoning, and care. Appearance alone cannot tell you whether a particular pot suits your setup. The Donabe & Clay Pots collection is a place to explore the vessel as part of your table, with those individual details in mind.

There is also a visual choice to enjoy. A dark pot can give pale tofu and greens a strong outline. A lighter one may sit quietly beside patterned bowls. Neither needs an elaborate surrounding display. A pot with room around it, a serving utensil, and a few bowls already give the table a sense of welcome.

Explore our Donabe & Clay Pots collection

A bowl for every place at the table

The large pot gets the first glance. The small bowl is where the meal comes closer.

Tonsui are small Japanese hot-pot bowls, often recognizable by a single projecting lip or handle. In this setting, they receive a portion from the shared pot. Their shape becomes part of the meal as soon as they hold a little broth and a few pieces from the pot.

Think of a serving of tofu and vegetables, with a little broth visible around them. A bowl’s interior is now part of what you see: a pale surface beneath dark mushrooms, or a darker glaze beside cabbage and tofu. The food and the vessel introduce each other without a separate explanation of pottery.

A familiar small bowl can also serve a place at the table. If choosing something specifically for hot pot, the useful question is what that person will receive: a portion with broth, a few dipped pieces, or a separate sauce. Those are different arrangements, and there is no need to crowd them into one tiny dish.

The Tonsui, Hot Pot Bowls collection offers a way to consider that personal part of the meal. A matching set can keep the table quiet; different bowls can give each place its own character. This is a styling choice, not a rule about the proper way to eat.

One filled bowl in front of you, with the shared pot still in reach, changes the scale of the dinner. The pot belongs to everyone; this helping belongs to you. A little space beside the bowl leaves room for chopsticks, a spoon, or a sauce dish without making the place setting feel crowded.

Which dipping sauce suits the pot?

For shabu-shabu, ponzu and sesame sauce provide two familiar starting points. Ponzu brings a citrus note; sesame sauce offers a richer, nutty direction. Separate dishes keep those choices visible and let the meal’s different tastes have their own space.

A mixed hot pot may already have a seasoned broth, so a dipping sauce need not be the center of every bowl. The cod yosenabe example includes optional ponzu, grated daikon, or shichimi, a Japanese spice blend. That small detail leaves room for contrast without suggesting that every nabe requires the same accompaniments.

Two little sauce dishes beside a serving bowl can make an inviting place setting. A dark sauce against a pale glaze, a beige sesame sauce in a deeper bowl: small differences give the table interest. The dishes do not have to match perfectly to belong beside each other.

Sukiyaki’s sweet-savory seasoning is already part of its identity. A portion of beef, tofu, and vegetables can take the foreground in its serving bowl. The arrangement need not repeat the two-sauce setting of shabu-shabu. The dish itself gives the table a different character.

The last of the pot: rice or udon

The pot need not disappear as soon as the main ingredients are gone. Shime is the closing part of a meal; for some hot pots, rice or noodles make that final bowl.

MAFF’s white-fish dumpling hot pot suggests rice for zosui, a rice soup, or udon as a finish. It is one way for the same meal to take another form, with the broth still at its center.

Imagine udon in a little remaining broth, with one small serving beside the pot. Earlier, the bowl was full of vegetables and tofu. Now there are broad, pale noodles, a little green garnish, and a spoon for the broth. The table has grown quieter, but the meal is still unfolding.

Rice and udon are alternatives here. There is no need to show both, or to imply that every kind of nabe finishes in exactly the same way. The finish can be small. It only needs to make sense with the pot you have enjoyed, leaving the evening with a final taste rather than a whole new course.

Japanese hot pot FAQ

Q: What is Japanese hot pot called?

The broad Japanese term is nabe, used for both the pot and the meal shared from it. Donabe names a clay cooking pot. It is one possible vessel for nabe, not the name of every Japanese hot pot.

Q: What goes into Japanese hot pot?

There is no single ingredient list. One MAFF yosenabe example brings fish, tofu, mushrooms, and vegetables together in seasoned dashi. Shabu-shabu and sukiyaki make different choices, so let the style of pot guide what you set out.

Q: Is shabu-shabu Japanese hot pot?

Yes. MAFF describes shabu-shabu and sukiyaki as two hot pot dishes. Shabu-shabu pairs thin slices of meat and vegetables with a relatively light broth and individual dips such as ponzu or sesame sauce.

Q: Is Japanese hot pot spicy?

Not by definition. The examples here range from a seasoned yosenabe broth to shabu-shabu with chosen dips and sweet-savory sukiyaki. Whether your bowl has heat depends on the broth and condiments you choose.

Q: How do you eat Japanese hot pot?

Serve cooked food from the shared pot into a small individual bowl, such as a tonsui. Use a separate sauce dish when the style calls for one. Keep utensils that handle uncooked ingredients separate from those used for eating.

A table to return to

Perhaps the first thing that caught your attention was the steam, or the glossy sauce of sukiyaki. Perhaps it was a small bowl with a shape you had not noticed before.

The evening can begin with that one detail. A dish that sounds inviting, a pot suited to it, and bowls that leave each person a little space of their own. The next helping is close enough to share.

May there be another bowl, and time to stay for it.

Explore our Tonsui, Hot Pot Bowls collection →

Explore our Donabe & Clay Pots collection →

PIECES TO START WITH

Three pieces to start with

PICK 1 Mino tonsui bowl, Musashi US$ 49 VIEW THE PIECE

PICK 2 Seto tonsui bowl, reed pattern, 12 cm US$ 49 VIEW THE PIECE

PICK 3 Shigaraki donabe, amber glaze US$ 140 VIEW THE PIECE

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RECIPES & TABLE SETTING Izakaya at Home: Small Plates for a Japanese-Style Evening Simple dishes, shared plates, and small bowls shape a relaxed izakaya-inspired evening around the table. RECIPES & TABLE SETTING Onigiri Fillings: 6 Japanese Favorites to Try at Home Six classic onigiri fillings by taste and texture, and how to shape a rice ball by hand. RECIPES & TABLE SETTING How to Plate a Japanese Meal at Home — Vessels, Placement, and Space A practical guide to plating Japanese food at home: which vessels do the work, where each one goes on the table, and how space, height, and odd numbers shape a Japanese meal.

← BACK TO JOURNAL VISIT THE HANDBOOK →

A Yamanaka bowl begins before the lacquer.

Before the black, red, or transparent surface catches the light, a craftsperson has already chosen the direction of the wood, mounted it on a lathe, and shaped the vessel from within. The thinness of the wall, the balance in the hand, and the line of the rim are decided at this stage.

1. In the Hand

A turned wooden bowl often feels lighter than its size suggests. That lightness is especially noticeable when the bowl is lifted repeatedly during a meal, or brought close to the mouth for soup.

The rim tells you something as well. A finely turned rim can feel almost quiet against the lips, with none of the heaviness of a thick edge. In a soup bowl, that small difference changes the way the bowl is held and how the warmth of the contents reaches the mouth.

A lidded bowl adds another kind of pleasure. The lid should meet the body with a calm, precise fit, so that opening it becomes part of the meal rather than a purely practical action. The covered form holds a little pause before the food is seen.

Then there is the wood itself. Grain may appear clearly through a transparent finish, or remain only as a suggestion beneath a darker surface. Either way, the shape of the vessel has already been decided before the lacquer is applied.

These are things you can notice without knowing the names of the techniques. Hold the piece if you can. Look at the rim, the balance, the way the lid settles, and the movement of the grain. The history of Yamanaka begins there.

2. What Yamanaka Lacquerware Is

Yamanaka lacquerware is made in and around the Yamanaka Onsen district of Kaga, Ishikawa Prefecture. In the local description of Ishikawa's three major lacquerware centers, Wajima is associated with lacquering, Kanazawa with maki-e, and Yamanaka with kiji — the wooden body beneath the finish.

That description is a way of pointing toward each region's particular strength. It does not mean that Yamanaka makes only wooden bowls, or that Wajima and Kanazawa do not make other kinds of work.

The name Yamanaka can refer to traditional wooden lacquerware and to modern lacquerware made with molded resin and contemporary coatings. The material line for each piece is therefore useful. A regional name tells you where the work belongs; it does not, by itself, tell you what is underneath the surface.

3. Why This Town

The tradition is generally traced to the late sixteenth century, when groups of woodturners settled at Masago, upstream from Yamanaka Onsen. They made turned wooden vessels for everyday use, using the surrounding mountains as a source of timber.

The connection with the hot spring town developed later. By the middle of the Edo period, vessels made in the area were being sold to visitors as souvenirs. Lacquering and decorative techniques were then introduced from other centers, including Aizu, Kyoto, and Kanazawa.

The order matters. The wooden body came first. The lacquer and decoration widened what those forms could become, but they were added to an existing culture of woodturning.

Yamanaka is now known for the scale of its turned wooden production. The region's own trade association describes it as having the largest production of turned wooden bases in Japan.

4. What the Lathe Decides

In Yamanaka, hikimono means a wooden object shaped while the material turns on a lathe. A blade is brought steadily against the rotating wood, cutting the form from the outside and inside.

One of the region's important practices is tategidori, or vertical wood selection. The vessel is laid out in the direction in which the tree grew. This can reduce distortion as the wood dries and gives the finished piece a stable structure.

The process is not always completed in one sitting. A blank may first be roughly shaped, left to dry, and then returned to the lathe for its final dimensions. Allowing the wood to respond before the last turning helps the maker control the shape that will remain in use.

The region is also known for usubiki, or thin turning. Some pieces are made thin enough for light to pass through the wall. That degree of thinness is not a requirement for every Yamanaka vessel, but it shows the control that the material and the tool demand.

Kashokubiki, or decorative turning, cuts patterns directly into the rotating wooden surface. Fine lines such as sensuji and broader grooves are made by controlling the tool while the wood is moving. The pattern comes from the turning itself, rather than from a design painted onto the finished surface.

These names are useful when they help you see the piece. Their importance is not that they make the object sound complicated. It is that they explain why a bowl can feel light, why a rim can be so even, and why a pattern can follow a curve with such regularity.

5. The Decoration

Once the wooden body has been shaped, the surface may be finished in several ways. Some pieces are left with the grain visible through a transparent finish. Others receive layers of lacquer or a colored coating before decoration is added.

Traditional maki-e is made by drawing a design in lacquer and sprinkling gold, silver, or colored powder over it while the lacquer is still wet. The powder settles into the lacquer and is fixed as the surface hardens.

There are several forms of maki-e. In hira-maki-e, the decoration remains relatively level with the surrounding surface. In taka-maki-e, parts of the design are built up so that the raised areas can be felt with a fingertip. National craft records name this raised decoration among the region's characteristics.

Modern Yamanaka lacquerware also includes printed and powdered decoration. The region's official production description identifies screen printing as the center of this process, while also describing color layering, metal powder, and hand-applied elements. It is therefore too simple to divide every decorated piece into "handmade" or "machine-made."

The practical guide is to read the maker's description. If a maker names hand-drawn maki-e, a particular artist, or a specific decorative process, that information tells you more than a photograph can. If the description gives only a general name, let the technique remain open rather than guessing from the appearance or the price.

The decoration should still be understood as part of the object's use. A pattern on a tray is seen from above as it gathers small bowls and cups. A pattern on a hair ornament moves with the wearer. A wave on a pen appears each time the pen is picked up. The surface is not separate from the life of the object.

6. A Tradition That Adapted

Around 1958, producers in Yamanaka began incorporating plastic materials into what is known as modern lacquerware. Molded resin made it possible to produce forms at a different scale and price, with different handling requirements.

This did not erase the older wooden tradition. It created another branch of production alongside it. The same region could continue making turned wooden vessels while also producing objects with molded cores and contemporary coatings.

The distinction is useful, but it does not need to become a judgment. A turned wooden bowl offers grain, lightness, and the small variation of a natural material. A resin piece may offer a consistent form and an easier fit for a particular setting. The right question is what the object is made to do, and whether that suits the way you will use it.

Yamanaka was designated a traditional craft of Japan on May 10, 1975. The designation has specific requirements, including natural urushi, particular types of wood or equivalent material, and shaping with a lathe and turning tools. Modern resin products and synthetic coatings fall outside that designation, even though they are made in the same region and may be sold under the Yamanaka name.

That distinction helps explain the range of objects available today. It also shows how a craft region can preserve an older foundation while responding to changes in daily life.

7. Choosing a Piece

Begin with the use rather than the label. A bowl that will be lifted during a meal should feel balanced in the hand. A tray should have a surface and size that fit what you expect to place on it. A lidded bowl should feel comfortable to open and close.

Then read the material description. Look for the maker's own wording about natural wood, resin, urushi, urethane, or another coating. Natural wood and turned wood are separate claims: an object can be made from wood without having been shaped on a lathe.

This matters for our current Yamanaka selection as well. Most of the pieces we carry are contemporary lacquerware. Natural-wood pieces are more limited, and those we have are mainly chopsticks rather than bowls or trays.

The photograph is useful, but it is not a material specification. Grain can be reproduced by a surface treatment, and a dark glossy finish can cover more than one kind of core. When the listing is clear, use the listing. When it is not, leave the material unconfirmed.

You may also want to consider how much ceremony you want the piece to bring into the room. A bowl used every day becomes familiar through repetition. A New Year's set appears less often, but its appearance becomes part of the memory of the occasion.

If you are comparing several kinds of Japanese lacquerware, our beginner's guide gives a broader explanation of urushi, resin cores, and modern coatings.

8. Who It Suits, and as a Gift

Yamanaka lacquerware suits someone who notices small physical differences: the weight of a bowl, the warmth of a rim, the way a lid meets its body, or the change in a wood grain from one piece to another.

It can also suit someone who does not yet know much about craft. A first bowl does not require specialist knowledge. It only needs to feel right when held and useful when placed on the table.

For a host or a cook, a covered bowl or serving tray gives the meal a sense of order without asking for display space when it is not in use. For someone who enjoys New Year customs, a tiered otoso set carries a seasonal rhythm into the home.

A small lacquered object can be a quieter gift. A hair ornament or fountain pen brings the surface into daily movement, where the decoration is seen in changing light rather than under a fixed display lamp.

A gift does not have to announce its value. Sometimes the better choice is something that will be taken out at a particular time each year, used carefully, and remembered when it returns from storage.

9. Living With Yamanaka Lacquerware

Follow the care instructions supplied with the piece. As a general habit, wash gently by hand, avoid leaving the object submerged, and dry it rather than allowing water to stand on the surface.

Keep lacquerware away from strong heat, prolonged direct sunlight, abrasive scrubbers, and sudden changes in temperature. A resin core does not automatically make a piece suitable for a dishwasher; that depends on the finish and the maker's instructions.

For more detailed guidance, see our article on washing and caring for Japanese lacquerware. For wooden or lacquered chopsticks, our guide to wooden and lacquered chopstick care is more specific.

Because wood is a natural material, grain and color can vary from one piece to another. Those differences are part of the object's character rather than a defect to be corrected.

10. Editor's Picks — Five from Yamanaka Today

Five pieces from the modern side of the town's production, for five different jobs. The materials given are the makers' own.

Pick 1 — For the table: a lidded zoni bowl. A covered bowl with cranes across the lid and a gold pine branch around the body. It is made for zoni, the New Year soup with rice cake, but it can also hold broth or another dish that benefits from arriving covered. The maker lists the material as phenolic resin. It is a piece for someone who enjoys the small ceremony of opening a bowl at the table. (See the zoni bowl) — Zoni bowl, Tamari Gold Crane — $79

Pick 2 — For New Year: an otoso set. A black set including a spouted server, three nesting cups, a small tiered box, and a tray. Otoso is spiced sake traditionally served on New Year's morning, with the cups taken in turn. The maker lists ABS resin and urethane. It is a seasonal set, suited to a household that enjoys bringing out a familiar object once a year. (See the otoso set) — Otoso set, pine leaf motif — $199

Pick 3 — To wear: a lacquered hair ornament. Two cranes in gold and white cross a purple ground. This is a two-pronged kanzashi rather than a comb. The maker lists acrylic resin and urethane. Its decoration is experienced in movement, catching light as the wearer turns. (See the kanzashi) — Kanzashi, flying cranes — $65

Pick 4 — For serving: a round tray. A gold ground carries autumn grasses, chrysanthemums, and two small quail. The red rim closes the circle. The maker lists phenolic resin and urethane. It is a serving piece that gives a group of small vessels a clear place to gather. (See the tray) — Round tray, Gold Miyabi — $110

Pick 5 — For the desk: a fountain pen. The black barrel carries a wave in silver and gold, with small plovers on the cap. It comes in a presentation box. The maker lists aluminum with a urethane coating. It is a modest way to bring a lacquered surface into the daily rhythm of a desk. (See the fountain pen) — Fountain pen, wave motif — $98

11. A Note from the Shop

The Yamanaka name covers more than one material and more than one kind of finish. Some pieces begin with a turned wooden body and natural urushi. Others are made with modern materials and contemporary coatings.

We give the maker's material description wherever it is available. That is the most reliable way to understand a particular piece. The important thing is not to make every object answer to the same standard, but to know what kind of object you are holding and what kind of use it invites.

12. Frequently Asked Questions

Q: I'm new to lacquerware — how do I choose my first piece?
Choose something that will be used often and held comfortably. A small bowl, tray, or pair of chopsticks can teach you more about lacquerware through daily use than an object that stays in a cabinet. Look at the material description, then pay attention to weight, balance, the rim, and the way the surface feels in the hand. You do not need to identify every technique before choosing a piece.

Q: Is a less expensive piece lower quality, or harder to use?
Not necessarily. Price can reflect the material, the amount of handwork, the scale of production, the decoration, and the form of the object. It does not provide a reliable way to identify the technique used. A less expensive modern piece may be made for regular handling and easy care. A more expensive wooden or highly decorated piece may offer a different experience. Read the maker's description and choose according to the use you have in mind.

Q: Is Yamanaka lacquerware still made and used in Japan today?
Yes. Yamanaka continues to produce both traditional wooden lacquerware and modern lacquerware made with resin cores and contemporary coatings. The objects are used as tableware, seasonal items, gifts, accessories, and desk objects. The tradition remains active because it has continued to make room for different materials and different forms of daily life.

Q: Is every Yamanaka piece made from wood?
No. The regional name includes traditional wooden pieces and modern products made with molded resin. Check the material line for the individual item. Natural wood and turned wood are also different descriptions: a wooden object is not necessarily a turned object.

Q: Can Yamanaka lacquerware go in the dishwasher?
Only when the maker specifically says that it can. A resin core does not, by itself, determine whether the coating can withstand a dishwasher cycle. When the instructions are not clear, gentle hand-washing is the safer choice.

Q: How is Yamanaka different from Wajima?
The difference is one of emphasis. Yamanaka is especially associated with the wooden body, woodturning, and the techniques used to shape it. Wajima is especially associated with layered lacquering and reinforced groundwork. Both regions make a wider range of objects than these short descriptions suggest.

Q: What is otoso?
Otoso is spiced sake traditionally drunk on New Year's morning. It is served from a small spouted vessel and taken from nested cups in turn, with the order varying by household and region. An otoso set usually includes the server, cups, a tray, and sometimes a small tiered box.

13. In Closing

The first thing to notice in Yamanaka lacquerware is often the surface. The deeper story begins underneath.

A light bowl, a fine rim, a well-fitted lid, or a line of grain that follows the curve of the vessel all carry the decisions made by the woodturner. The lacquer and decoration add another layer of expression, but the character of the piece has already begun in the wooden body.

Yamanaka has changed over time. It has made room for new materials, new uses, and new kinds of decoration while continuing to value the work of shaping a vessel well.

If you would like to continue from here, you may also enjoy our guides to Japanese lacquerware, lacquerware care, wooden and lacquered chopsticks, Takaoka metalwork, and placing vessels for a Japanese meal.

— from Osaka, Team Manekineko-Ai

PIECES IN THIS ARTICLE

Three ways to start with Yamanaka lacquerware

FOR THE TABLE Zoni bowl, Tamari Gold Crane US$ 79 VIEW THE PIECE

FOR NEW YEAR Otoso set, pine leaf motif US$ 199 VIEW THE PIECE

TO WEAR Kanzashi, flying cranes US$ 65 VIEW THE PIECE

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