Among the many definitions of wabi-sabi, there is one expression that stands out: hieta, meaning ‘cold’ or ‘chilled’.
In the classical world of Noh theatre, there were certain sections of a play where a restrained performance – rather than a dramatic climax – could move an audience profoundly. Such moments were described as ‘hieta’.
This unusual term emerged during the Muromachi period (c. 1336–1573), when the highest form of beauty was thought to be found in an austere, wintry landscape, rather than spring blossoms or autumnal colours. This was a beauty marked by tension and severity, like a barren field that, just beneath the surface, holds the dormant vitality of spring.
A passage from the time, by the Buddhist poet and priest Shinkei (1406–75), illustrates this distinct Japanese sensitivity to beauty:
One should pay attention to the faint and subtle. A single white plum blossom blooming amongst the bamboo, like the moon glimpsed through the clouds, is captivating. But an abundance of blossoms, like a full moon at its brightest, is less moving.
Another important concept is honka-dori, originally a term from classical poetry. It refers to the practice of borrowing elements from earlier works and weaving them into new creations. In craft as in poetry, makers reinterpret fragments of the past, creating something contemporary while acknowledging what came before. Different generations select different sources and reinterpret them in new ways.
The artists featured in this exhibition stand at the forefront of this long tradition of honka-dori. Their works embody what has been passed down through the generations, including the sensibilities of subtle beauty such as wabi and hieta, yet are reframed for the present. These nuances are not shown overtly but scattered delicately within the ‘faint and subtle’ details of their creations.
If craft is something that changes with time, it mirrors the words of Kamo no Chōmei in his Hōjōki (‘An Account of My Hut’ written in 1212):
The flow of the river never ceases, and yet the water is never the same.
In that spirit, let us share in this moment together, to experience how craft lives in our own time. One day, we may look back on this era as a distinct chapter in the story of craft. May the piece you encounter, or even acquire, today remain with you as a quiet witness to this time.
坂本大 Sakamoto Dai
Lapin Art Gallery, Tokyo