The town of Arita is synonymous with pottery. My first visit was during the annual Golden Week ceramics festival, but I couldn’t find it and drove around the town feeling a bit disappointed. On one narrow lane, however, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a few crates on the roadside with the magic word, “Free!”
Behind this offer of myriad-shaped teacups and dishes appeared a nearly abandoned ceramics factory, soon to close, but open for exploration. Spanning a small river, the left bank housed the shop, showroom, workshop, kiln, one welcoming old man, and one friendly old hound. On the right bank, a smaller studio was already being reclaimed by time and nature. Walking the grounds and workshop my mind blended the scene from my eyes and my imaginative vision of years past when energy from living artists thrived here.
