Encountering lost time. Antiques teach me about living a cultural life

The usual path, the usual scenery. Just there, the ordinary places and people.

Moments when we hesitate to stop, passing by without touching. Prudence as a form of reserve, or hesitation to take a step forward.

Time flows mercilessly, days turn, seasons change. In our lives, where we are often preoccupied with daily tasks and objectives, chasing after new things, some things are quietly forgotten.

But perhaps, with just a small step, a new landscape might open up in our daily lives.

 

The Usual Path and a Small Conflict

There was an antique shop on the street I always took.

Its appearance conveyed that it had been watching over this town for a long time.

At the entrance, a mannequin in a remarkably neatly arranged kimono stood quietly, and my heart fluttered every time I passed by this shop.

This was because, having once worked in the fashion industry, I had acquired a mysterious special skill: I could somehow gauge the motivation of the people working in a store just by looking at the mannequin.

 

"Surely, there's something special about this shop."

Such was the feeling of conviction.

But the reality was – I had no immediate reason to enter this store.

I don't wear kimonos, and my home interior has no Japanese elements. I couldn't think of anything I needed. With these excuses, days turned into weeks as I kept passing by the store, and time simply slipped away. Still, the flutter in my chest never disappeared.

 

I had long felt that "Japanese traditional industries are often undervalued despite their quality," and this issue had been bothering me for a long time. I sensed there might be a hint in this store, but I felt somewhat apologetic about opening the glass door, taking off my shoes, and browsing the raised tatami platform without a specific purpose.

Once, during yukata season, I had the opportunity to buy an antique item and spoke with the shop owner. As the mannequin suggested, she was an old woman full of love for kimonos. However, when the conversation turned to inventory and distribution, her face clouded over a little.

That made sense. Even someone like me, who was so interested in the store, had somehow grown distant from Japanese traditions and culture, unsure how to incorporate them into daily life. It wasn't just this store; I wondered if antique shops in any town faced similar struggles. The thought suddenly crossed my mind.

However, in reality, I only thought, "What can I do?" without ever grasping the full picture. My feelings remained unformed, and before I knew it, several years had passed.

Then one day, the moment finally arrived. I encountered the MCKK project.

Tradition, culture, connections with the local community.

Finally, I had a "reason" to confidently enter the shop.

 

Holding Culture in Hand – Rediscovering Lost Time

Armed with a reason, I started frequenting the antique shop like a fish in water.

For me, someone who can't help but delve deeply into things, this small shop was like finding a treasure chest.

Initially, it was for work research. As I chatted with the owner, my eyes naturally drifted to the other antiques displayed, and I found myself gently picking up items that caught my interest.

These were items that were difficult to sell in modern times, priced affordably despite their quality and craftsmanship. Without reason or purpose, an intuition told me, "I want to welcome this into my life." I bought these items with a feeling of "rescuing" them.

What's strange is that these items were not necessarily lacking in quality or design; on the contrary, they all possessed advanced craftsmanship and beauty. From an artistic European perspective, there was even something akin to what luxury brands pursue.

 

Yuzamashi (Water Cooler)

A vessel for cooling water when brewing tea.

It has a carved indentation on one side for resting a finger, making it exclusively for right-handed users. The spout is also angled to fit comfortably in the right hand. Holding it with the left hand feels significantly awkward.

In Japan, inverse movements were once considered "disorderly" or "inauspicious," and being left-handed was seen as undesirable. While today left-handed people are sometimes said to be more "creative," the small indentation on this yuzamashi quietly conveys a remnant of such values.

Today, we often pour boiling water directly into the teapot, and the existence of such vessels has almost been forgotten.

Though not its original use, I suddenly thought of using it to water my plants in the room. As I did, the feel of the indentation for my finger naturally prompted me to straighten my posture.

It was a moment when the casual act of watering plants every morning felt like a small ritual to compose myself.

 

Bizen Ware Single Flower Vase

A small vase, only a few centimeters tall.

It is made using the "Hidasuki" technique of Bizen ware, characterized by patterns created by wrapping straw around it before firing.

Without glaze, the linear patterns created solely by earth, straw, and fire possess a mysterious warmth within their rough texture.

However, its opening is less than a centimeter, making it difficult to find small flowers that fit this vase in an urban lifestyle.

I believe the reason why it has craftsmanship and beauty but few buyers is this "smallness."

Perhaps we have unknowingly lost the sensibility to carefully cherish the small "beauty" around us. Gazing at the vase that fits perfectly in my hand, I quietly reflected on this flow of time.

 

Early Showa Period Portable Calligraphy Set

A small calligraphy set, about the size of a notepad. Mini brushes, ink, and an inkstone are neatly tucked into a vibrant tie-dyed cloth case.

According to the antique shop owner, it seems to have been made in the early Showa period for writing letters while traveling.

Grinding ink and taking up a brush in a ryokan room. Writing a letter to someone far away, conveying the current scenery while gazing at the view from the travel destination. A quiet and tasteful moment from an era before instant sharing and immediate sending via SNS.

Inspired by the past scenes this tool revealed, I too ground some ink. As I moved the brush, a quietness descended, as if time had momentarily paused amidst the hustle and bustle of modern life.

 

Life with Culture – New Sensations Taught by Antiques

The way I've used the antiques introduced in this article might differ slightly from their original traditional uses. However, at a time when "original uses" are fading, I felt that embracing culture in daily life through such new forms also holds value.

Fitting it into a mold. Cherishing it in small ways. Focusing on the present.

By gently touching the history and the makers' thoughts behind these antiques, the past and present are softly connected.

These moments, slightly deviating from our efficiency-driven daily lives, are also instances of the richness that Japan once cherished.

Indeed, after incorporating antiques into my life, I found a warmth and gentle spaciousness in my heart that I didn't feel when using mass-produced mugs and vases.

By welcoming culture into the palm of my hand, a new "richness" emerges in daily life. Antiques quietly taught me this subtle change.

Photography協力：桜花園（湘南・辻堂）→ Map