Unwavering Natural Beauty Depicting Birds and Flora in Realistic Detail 

“Plants thriving in the wild surpass imagination, brimming with movement and intrigue. Even the same plant can have countless patterns. Insect-bitten holes in leaves, for instance, are truly fascinating. When I sketch, I realize that no two things are the same. Each leaf, every tiny insect hole, is different. Transferring these differences onto a vessel gives it flavor and character,” Yamada explains.

Even the same plant changes its expression depending on the season, time of day, location, and viewing angle. His sketchbooks are filled with numerous variations of the same species.

In his painting workspace, sketchbooks packed with observational drawings line the shelves.

From Sketch to Vessel: The Trial and Error Behind Finalizing a Composition

How does one transfer a flat sketch on paper onto the three-dimensional form of a vessel? Yamada cuts paper into the shape of the intended vessel and then arranges his sketched elements on it to consider the composition. He experiments with where to place leaves and berries to balance the empty spaces, often combining multiple observational sketches of the same plant into a single work. “For some pieces, I draw seven or eight rough compositions before settling on one,” he says.

A paper draft with the finalized composition

He draws the design with “kairo-bai” (a mixture often used to transfer sketches) onto paper shaped like a round plate, then presses it onto the vessel. Like a stamp, the kairo-bai transfers a faint outline onto the vessel, which then guides the painting process.

The blurry, faint line transferred by the kairo-bai contrasts with the clear, bold outlines drawn with “gosu” (a cobalt pigment), known in Kutani ware as “kotsugaki” (bone-drawing).

After outlining with gosu, he adds shading (bokashi) and layers colored pigments.

Other color samples take on intriguing shapes as well. One such sample, shaped like a leaf, is painted with various hues. These serve as references for pigment mixing.

Once painted, the vessel is fired to completion.

Entering the World of Kutani Ware by Continuing the Family Business

Yamada began working in Kutani ware around the age of twenty, starting by helping with the family business. “Back then, we were incredibly busy mass-producing ‘hanko-mono’—pieces decorated using stamps rather than hand painting,” he recalls.

A stamp-decorated vase produced at that time

“In my hometown, Sano, aka-e (red overglaze) Kutani is well-known, and we mass-produced it with stamped designs. It was the bubble era, with the economy climbing steadily, so these pieces sold very well,” he says.

As he immersed himself in the work of Kutani ware, a change of heart came at age 25 after he married and had a child the following year. He wondered, “Is it okay if I spend my life only making hanko-mono?” Spurred by this thought, he began studying hand-painted techniques.

The First Turning Point: Learning Ao-Kutani (Blue Kutani) and Hand-Painting Techniques

To study hand-painted decoration, he sought the guidance of a master: Yamanaka Takeshi, who would later be hailed as a master of Iroe Kutani (colored Kutani) known as Ao-Kutani. After finishing his day’s work, Yamada would attend lessons for two hours each night, five days a week. “At the time, Yamanaka-sensei was also a schoolteacher, so after teaching at school, he would teach me. I’m truly grateful.”

The first Ao-Kutani piece he painted

Over two years, he mastered the handling of traditional pigments and the fundamentals of painting. His skills improved to the point where he could submit work to exhibitions. “From that time on, I gradually increased the amount of hand-painted work,” he says.

The Second Turning Point: The Encounter with Observational Sketching

Captivated by the work of Takegoshi Taizan III, Yamada sought his instruction. Under Takegoshi’s tutelage, he delved deeply into sketching from life, which greatly influenced his current style.“Back then, I didn’t paint on vessels, but on shikishi (square art boards) with ink,” he says, showing us one of those early pieces hanging on the wall.

An example of the shikishi from that time

“By sketching like this on shikishi, I came to truly appreciate the importance of blank space. Skillfully using white space results in elegance and beauty. But making effective use of empty space is challenging,” he reflects. Even now, he finds working with empty space both a goal and an aspiration.

Not Filling Every Inch: Emphasizing Empty Space and a Crisp Finish

When thinking of Kutani ware, you might picture styles like Ko-Kutani or Yoshidaya, where every inch of the vessel is richly adorned. Yet Yamada says, “I prefer a clean, uncluttered style over filling the surface with detail.”

Your eyes become fully captivated by the simple presence of the wildflowers. The spacious backdrop enhances the beauty of the depicted plants. At the same time, it’s an accomplishment possible only because of Yamada’s exquisite painting and color work.

Venturing into Tableware: Leaving Room for Cuisine

When asked what he would like to create next, he replies, “Lately, I’ve been challenging myself with tableware.”

“This is quite difficult,” Yamada admits. Unlike vases or decorative plates, which can be complete artworks in themselves, tableware only achieves completion when food is placed upon it.

“Tableware is finished when it’s plated with food,” he explains. Until now, he focused on balancing the painted motifs of flora and fauna with empty space. But with tableware, he must also consider the appearance of the food that will sit there.

Though he repeatedly calls it “difficult,” he seems to find it enjoyable. Transitioning from the pleasure of purely viewing to the joy of functional use, the world of Yamada Yoshiaki’s vessels continues to expand.