How the Japanese art of kintsugi can not only repair bowls, but people
CBC Radio | Posted: September 8, 2023 8:48 PM | Last Updated: 15 hours ago
Kintsugi is ceramic restoration style that highlights imperfection through an often gold-dusted lacquer
Naoko Fukumaru found the art of kintsugi at a moment when she'd least expected to find it.
She'd hoped that moving to Powell River, B.C., would bring her closer to her husband and repair a troubled marriage. Eventually she decided she had to leave that relationship and, along with her two children, moved into a women's shelter.
"I thought my life was going to get better but I started [feeling] trauma and grief," Fukumaru told Tapestry.
"I actually went to the very bottom of my life and into a very dark place."
As she attempted to rebuild her life, Fukumaru received a surprising email from a stranger asking when she was going to host her next kintsugi workshop.
Fukumaru had long been an expert in ceramic restoration. She'd grown up around fine antiques in her family's auction house in Japan, and eventually became a professional ceramic and glass conservator at places like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. But she'd never practiced kintsugi.
Kintsugi is a kind of art restoration that tries to accept a broken object's imperfections. Instead of trying to bring a vase or a plate back to the exact state it was before, hiding all evidence of cracks and shattered fragments, kintsugi asks you to accept the damage done to the object.
And though it is literally about repairing bowls, plates and all kinds of ceramics, more people view kintsugi as a way of life. Enthusiasts and artists believe it's a means to heal past mistakes and traumas by accepting what went wrong.
The 500-year-old Japanese technique mends ceramics with urushi natural lacquer — a kind of tree sap — dusted with powdered gold, highlighting all the imperfections. As a Japanese artist, Fukumaru had heard of kintsugi, but it had never been her specialty.
Still, she felt somehow drawn to fulfill this person's request.
"When you are in a very dark place, with no hope, crying every day and someone is needing my help, you feel like, 'OK, this is the reason I am alive,'" Fukumaru said.
She asked her father for all the kintsugi books he could find and studied the art form for six months. Then Fukumaru asked for a residency at qathet Art Centre, and after nine months, held the workshop the stranger had asked for.
Discovering the power of kintsugi
Fukumaru was surprised to feel like kintsugi was repairing her, just as it had the ceramics. She describes the experience almost like yoga — while at first you feel the pain and your weakness, over time you grow stronger through practice.
"Instead of ignoring our pain or trying to forget, we have to work on it," she said.
"Kintsugi is giving us permission. We can be ourselves. We can transform brokenness, imperfection through beauty."
We can appreciate life better if we go through this harder journey. - Naoko Fukumaru
Makoto Fujimura is an artist and the author of Art + Faith: A Theology of Making. He told Tapestry host Mary Hynes that this kind of relationship with kintsugi is becoming more common, even with artists in other fields.
He said he's met everyone from film editors to music producers who see kintsugi as the true practice behind their art form.
"It is really the message of our time," Fujimura said. "I believe this generation coming up [is] experiencing so much trauma and fracture, they need to have this metaphor and understanding in their lives."
Fujimura said the impact of COVID-19 is one example, which he believes has left mental scars on people around the world.
"So it's an important opportunity to not ignore that, but to behold each other in our sufferings and brokenness, but also in our longings — that we want to see something beautiful come out of broken places," said Fujimura.
Healing through repair
As Fukumaru has gotten deeper into her practice, she said the act of doing kintsugi can be healing not just for the artist, but the recipients of her kintsugi restorations.
"My first client told me that, 'Oh, I'm so happy I broke my plate.' And I was like, 'What did you say?'" she recalled.
People come to her with a shattered plate or bowl and a sense of regret or disappointment for breaking the piece. Fukumaru points out that these objects can be especially important because we use them every day, or they are family heirlooms.
But kintsugi can both acknowledge that mistake and allow the person to move on, she said.
Even couples benefited from a bit of kintsugi, as the restoration offered a reminder of a partner's responsibility to the other person, and an acknowledgement of harm.
Fukumaru believes that people often try to avoid these feelings, because they sound negative. She sees kintsugi as a way of working through those feelings, however.
"This process is a painful journey, but we know we can be stronger, that we can get better and we can be nicer to others," she said.
"We can appreciate life better if we go through this harder journey."
Written by Arman Aghbali. Produced by Arman Aghbali, McKenna Hadley-Burke, Theo van Beusekom, Rosie Fernandez and Mary Hynes.