A few years ago, a few guys from the Rolling Stones staff came to Shotoku-an. We enjoyed tea together, and the next day a gift and a letter arrived; and in that letter they spoke of their travels around the world with the Rolling Stones for the last 25 years, and they spoke about traditional cultures losing ground everywhere they went. They said they just want to support this dojo, as a study place for traditional culture. It was quite wonderful at that time; and today it was again quite wonderful, because at a small shop, Wa-Hin-Do,
a young Japanese guy is keeping alive the traditional art form call "Kin-tsugi." And I too felt like these visitors to Shotoku-an. So very touched that at Wa-Hin-Do, Hattori-san is one of the very few people still repairing cracked and chipped pieces with pure gold-powder and natural urushi lacquer from the urushi-tree.
In his hands, something once beautiful becomes more beautiful. Something damaged becomes whole. What was, becomes what is. These pictures are the five-step process he follows to bring new life into a broken sake-cup.
These are the same five-steps he followed to bring "KOSMOS" back to life. #1 lacquer is used to glue the pieces back to together. For "KOSMO," he did this three times for about two weeks, applying urushi-lacquer, scraping, polishing, and again applying urushi. #2 is a different kind of urushi, to build-up the base coat. For "KOSMOS" he did this five times times for severaal weeks. #3 is the first layer of gold powder. #4 is the second layer of gold powder. #5 the final layers of gold powder. For one month, Hattori-san applied clear urushi and gold powder. And again and again he polished the gold and applied urushi. This is a critical step which includes the problem of dust; so traditionally this was done in a boat out on a lake. In the case of "KOSMOS," did he do this? The gold powder is not the usual type, but very finely ground by special gold-smiths. Today's price is one gram for 7000¥. Mr. Hattori-san worked on "KOSMOS" everyday for about three months,
and listening to him and looking into his eyes, we could see his deep feelings for this chawan. Usually he does not feel this way, but he spoke of almost crying when he first looked at the broken pieces. Immediately for him this was a very special chawan, and he was almost afraid to start the repair process, which would take three months, and skills he was not up to. He was very touched by the fate of this chawan, because the break was not from the top or bottom or the left or right. The impact point was perfectly from the front. Directly and head-on. Not surprisingly, it was right on the point of greatest beauty. For him this was not some coincidence; he felt something about her fate, that this was not a surprise but was bound to happen.
"If it breaks again," he said, "you must bring her back to me at once. Must!"