The Disappearing Art: Rediscovering Japan’s High-End Craftsmanship Through misora
In a workshop nestled in Kyoto, lacquered pieces shimmer under delicate lighting, reflecting a vibrant heritage. This is the world of misora, a collection that blends Kyoto’s urushi techniques with modern materials. Created by Hyosaku the Third (Masaya Suzuki) and his daughter / apprentice Hyosaku the Fourth (Saeko Suzuki), misora aims to promote these art pieces to a wider range of international patrons.
However, misora represents more than a brand—it is a movement. It aims to not only preserve traditional craftsmanship but also challenge how we value art in a modern, consumer-driven society. It highlights a pressing question: Which aspects of tradition should we fight to preserve? And how do we keep centuries-old art alive in a world driven by mass production and consumer convenience?
Dwindling Art Form: The Case of Kyoto Urushi
The Kyoto urushi lacquer tradition, which has its roots in the Heian period, epitomizes high culture. Techniques such as makie (sprinkling of gold and silver powder) and raden (inlaying mother of pearls) gave rise to exquisite objects meant not for daily use, but to adorn aristocratic homes. During the Edo period, Japanese lacquerware became a global phenomenon—Marie Antoinette was known to collect it, and the Portuguese and Dutch eagerly traded for them. Urushi lacquer became synonymous with beauty, durability and Japan’s artistic prowess. In the West, as porcelain pieces were called “China”, lacquer pieces were aptly called “Japan”.
But in contemporary Japan, lacquerware is largely associated with simpler items: bowls, chopsticks and trays—everyday-use objects often mass-produced to meet market demand. According to Yoshiyuki Satake, the director of Mishima Mold Inc. and creator of the misora brand, this narrow focus overlooks the intricate and ornate side of the craft. Through his eyes, Japan’s traditional crafts seem to be stuck in the realm of practicality. While preserving them is noble, it leaves little room for high-end, one-of-a-kind creations that express the full depth of our culture.
Unseen Decline: Fewer Craftsmen, Fading Skills
While the concept of preserving tradition remains a priority in Japan, it has ironically leaned toward mass production. Simple fabrics, ceramics and tableware, though valuable in their own right, have dominated the marketplace, leaving more elaborate, artistic crafts such as Kyoto urushi in the shadows.
The misora brand has encountered challenges in finding recognition. At one exhibition, the lack of an appropriate category for their lacquer-acrylic works left the brand classified under “side pieces,” an afterthought in a world driven by standardized products. This underscores a troubling reality: truly one-of-a-kind craftsmanship often doesn’t fit neatly into the commercial frameworks designed for mass production.
Yoshiyuki laments that many artisans today are hesitant to create unique pieces due to the high costs, time investment and uncertain market demand. “In the past, artisans would have five or six apprentices and work on large-scale projects for three to four months. But now, due to the lack of income to support apprentices, it’s no longer possible,” he explains. As these opportunities become scarce, young artisans struggle to sustain themselves on such challenging crafts.
Struggle for Survival: Challenges Facing High-End Craftsmen
Japan’s traditional craft industry faces a paradox: while mass-produced crafts thrive, high-end handmade works are dwindling.
A lack of economic incentives discourages many artisans from pursuing one-of-a-kind creations. The market rewards functionality, leaving little space for experimentation. As a result, materials once used for elaborate works, such as finely woven Sanada himo cords (durable, flat-woven cord traditionally used for securing tea boxes and armor) or rare lacquer pigments, are disappearing. “When Hyosaku the Third was alive, there were 40 varieties of Sanada himo. Now, they don’t have the craftsmen to create special tailor-made Sanada himo for special uses.”
Sustainability trends have also impacted the availability of high-end traditional materials. Shell inlays used in raden may soon become unavailable due to environmental restrictions. Yoshiyuki points out the similarity to the decline of fur fashion. “Places that sell fur coats are having a rough time as they are seen as promoting animal cruelty. The changing times might be part of the reason,” Yoshiyuki reflects.
“Materials for mass-produced products live on, but materials used for one-time art pieces are fading away. Should we only protect crafts that can be mass-produced? We must pass down the craft of creating one-of-a-kind items. I wonder how many people can make these kinds of products now.”
Spiritual Dissipation of Shokunin-Damashii
The problem isn’t only on the business and materialistic side of things. Shokunin-Damashii (職人魂 ) refers to the creation of something just for the sake of crafting something exquisite, and Yoshiyuki fears that this core essence of Japanese craftsmanship is fading away.
“People are now motivated by profit and loss… The truth is, due to the hassle of creating one-of-a-kind items and their poor profitability, artisans tend not to want to make them. In the past, if you had the spirit of a craftsman, you could manage. When we communicated what we wanted to create, those receiving the message responded with that same craftsman spirit.”
If the material makers, product artists, buyers and sellers all lose this raw ambition, what drives creativity? Innovation and the creation of high quality can only emerge out of pure passion and the stubbornness of aiming for perfection. There is something uniquely Japanese about this inefficiency, but it seems to be fading in the modern age.
Redefining Preservation: What Should Be Saved?
Yoshiyuki challenges the notion that only functional crafts deserve preservation. “Tradition should not just mean what people use every day. It should also encompass bold, artistic expressions—things that inspire and challenge us.” For him, the future of misora lies not just in creating objects but in creating meaning, inspiring others to engage with Japan’s cultural heritage in new ways.
The key, Yoshiyuki believes, lies in finding patrons—individuals and institutions willing to support artistic experimentation. “There are patrons that support Japanese painters, but these types of companies are very few in number… People or companies that allow artists to create freely and will ensure the purchase of these pieces. I want to find these patrons.”
Yoshiyuki envisions a future where misora not only preserves the works of established artists but also nurtures emerging talents. The company’s goal is to build an international network of buyers and patrons, offering artists the freedom to experiment, grow and innovate. For Yoshiyuki, it’s not just about sustaining the third and fourth generations of the Suzuki lacquer family, but about fostering a new generation of artisans who can evolve the craft and be rewarded for their creativity.
Looking Forward: Tradition as a Living, Breathing Entity
The story of misora asks us to contemplate a broader question: What traditions are worth preserving, and how should we preserve them? Should tradition be defined by utility alone, or should it also include the ephemeral beauty of art and craftsmanship?
For Yoshiyuki and his collaborators, the answer is clear: tradition is not just about repeating the past but about creating a future where artisans are free to experiment, innovate and thrive. Perhaps artistic craftsmanship will only survive if people see its value—not just in monetary terms, but as something that enriches the human spirit.
In a world where consumer trends often dictate the survival of art forms, misora offers a glimpse of what it means to preserve tradition as both heritage and innovation. It invites us to rethink our relationship with the past and to ask: What legacy do we want to leave behind?
We must act now to support these artisans if we want to keep the intricate side of Japanese craftsmanship alive for future generations. If we find ways to support these artists, the tradition can evolve and remain alive—bold, beautiful and uniquely Japanese.
About misora:
Urushi lacquer, a timeless companion to humanity for more than 12,000 years, meets acrylic, the synthetic marvel born in the 20th century.
The world shaped by these two materials shifts with every change in perspective, revealing ever-new impressions and nuances.
It is precisely the stark contrast between these elements that unlocks limitless possibilities for artistic expression, forever inspiring the imagination of the creator.
We hope that those who bring color to their works and surroundings find a spark in misora, one that encourages them to explore the boundless potential within themselves.