“No other country has pursued the art of imperfection as eagerly as Japan.”

Sōetsu Yanagi made it his life’s mission to raise awareness of the cultural relevance and beauty of handicraft, in particular Japanese and Korean. In this collection of essays, spanning over several decades, his main arguments often run as a red thread, even when the original texts were published several decades apart.

One such theme is Yanagi’s appreciation of the traditional Japanese aesthetic as grounded in a deeper philosophical, Buddhist worldview.

According to Yanagi, European art and architecture celebrate what he calls the aesthetics of “even numbers”, or the praise of symmetry, while in Japan, “odd numbers”, or organic imperfection, historically has been lauded.

This, he claimed, has made much of Western art and architecture appear artificial, while Japanese aesthetics on the other hand reflect the organic materials found in nature. Japanese culture is thus a translation of nature, while in the West, nature is often suppressed by culture.

This “translation of nature through culture” is most apparent not in Japan’s fine art but in its handicraft, in the objects made for everyday life:

”Particular attention should be paid to the material used, for good craftsmanship is built on natural foundations, and nature assures the material’s quality. Rather than the craft object finding the most suitable material, it can be said that the material finds the right object.”

In many of the essays that he wrote throughout the years, Yanagi returned to this argument: The most beautiful expressions are the ones you can find in nature.

If we follow the rules and rituals of traditional handicraft, this beauty will appear. In fine art on the other hand, as well as in many parts of contemporary design, including fashion and architecture, the complete freedom to explore new expressions is at the core of contemporary discourse.

In Yanagi’s view, this is why so much of modern design is ugly.

Creative freedom does not lead to more beautiful things, but instead, it leads people away from what the natural materials are trying to communicate.

In addition, it places focus on the individual ideas and whims of certain people, leading away from the natural beauty found in authentic materials.

Real creative freedom is to be found in constraints, which is why Yanagi favours patterns:

“When a pattern conforms to the structures of utility, materials, and technique, its beauty is freed from human error; a good pattern owes a great debt to the helping hand of nature. Put in a different way, patterns are dependent on an otherworldly power (tariki). The greater this force, the more solid the pattern. From this we can understand the extent to which pattern depends on universal laws. The way of the patter is the way of this transcendent force.”

Patterns mirror the secret structure of the universe, and has the potential to bring us closer to the force of God. Great handicraft can express this closeness by letting the material lead the way, allowing the human craftsman to function as a mediator for nature.

This is also why Yanagi preferred soft and muted expressions, as they allow the observer, through the nuances, to become aware of the complexities of the divine. When aesthetics refrain from shouting, real beauty can be heard.

 Another theme that is recurring through the collection is the idea that knowing and seeing should go hand in hand.  

Already before Yanagi’s essays on this subject, Socrates suggested that knowing and doing are two sides of the same coin. Yanagi recognized that it is great to have knowledge of the history of arts, and it is also good to be able to appreciate aesthetic quality. Combined, the two ensure a profound aesthetic experience, but while the former can be learned, the latter is innate.

Anyone with a bit of patience can learn the foundations of art theory, but to able to truly understand and assess artistic quality is a trait you either have or you don’t. However, seeing art, without knowing its cultural context, is to only appreciate it on a superficial level. In order to understand art and handicraft in a complete way, you also have to know its history.

Further reading:

Sōetsu Yanagi

The Beauty of Everyday Things

London: Penguin, 2018