25 Years Since Encountering Bamboo:
Reflections on Continuous Change
MIN GALLERY will host a solo exhibition by bamboo artist Toru Hatsuta, his first in two years, from Friday, April 10 to Sunday, April 19, 2026.
This will be Hatsuta-san's sixth exhibition at our gallery. In 2024, he presented a collection of works brimming with rich sensitivity under the theme of "Jizai ni" (Freely). Using bamboo, a simple material, he creates a diverse range of works, from rough, powerful flower vases to intricate masterpieces that evoke the history of bamboo craft introduced from the continent, and modern confectionery picks that one would want to use daily. What has Hatsuta-san focused on in his creation this time? Although it has been two years, we anticipate a collection of powerful works that recall his long journey. Please look forward to it.
On this day, we visited Hatsuta-san at his studio in Setagaya, where his creative work was finally entering its peak phase.
A quiet space set up in a detached house in a residential area. The artist's personality can be seen in the antique lights and the neatly arranged tools.
The Quiet Daily Life of an Artist Charmed by the Beauty of Bamboo
So commonplace, so familiar. Many Japanese people likely think of bamboo as such a presence.
Bamboo shoot dishes, which herald the arrival of spring, are edible bamboo. There's also bamboo used as building material for ceilings and walls in Japanese houses, and bamboo used for tools like ladles and chopsticks. Woven, it becomes baskets and furniture; as fuel, it's used in "Dondo-yaki" bonfires. Bamboo, a versatile plant, has been an integral part of our lives throughout history.
From around the late Showa period, the value of "bamboo craft," an art of living using bamboo, began to be recognized, primarily by overseas collectors, leading to a surge in popularity. Works by renowned bamboo artists have been acquired as permanent collections by museums, drawing keen attention as art pieces, and bamboo art increasingly adorns the spaces of high-end hotels and fine dining establishments in Japan.
However, for bamboo artist Toru Hatsuta, the existence of bamboo seems to be slightly different from any of the aforementioned. If anything, it is his life itself, suggesting a relationship like comrades living together. On the day I visited his studio, the way he wielded a knife to cut bamboo with his supple, slender fingertips, though unspoken, was as if he were conversing with the material.
Shaving bamboo in the workshop. As soon as he started shaving, small bamboo fragments quickly began to scatter around. There was no hesitation in his cuts, and he carved out shapes with mechanical precision.
Immediately captivated by the charm of bamboo from the moment of encounter
"I decided to enter the world of bamboo craftsmanship during my university days. I had no prior connection to it, but one summer, while preparing to enjoy nagashi-somen (flowing noodles) with friends, I stopped by a bamboo craft shop and encountered bamboo. It was an epiphany, like discovering a whole new world," says Hatsuta-san.
At the time, Hatsuta-san was struggling with the question of whether he should get a job at a general company, if that was truly what he wanted, or if it was the right path. He decided to pursue bamboo craftsmanship on a whim, and perhaps it was those around him who were surprised. Even when told, "If you want to do crafts, it doesn't have to be bamboo," or "It's really difficult to make a living from bamboo craftsmanship," his resolve remained unshaken, and he has spent the 25 years since that summer with bamboo.
As mentioned at the outset, Toru Hatsuta's works do not conform to a single shape or genre. From meticulously woven baskets to fluid tea scoops with free-flowing curves, and confectionery picks with clean forms adorned with foil, his creations are truly diverse. Yet, despite utilizing every technique—weaving, carving, splitting, and bending—his bamboo works mysteriously convey a consistent style. While one might want to articulate what that is, Hatsuta himself, though dedicated to the path of bamboo, says he has often taken detours along the way. Not losing his way, but taking detours.
In 2010 and 2011, he was selected for the "East Japan Traditional Craft Exhibition." He still cherishes the catalogs from that time and showed us intricately woven bamboo basket works.
Even as I blindly push forward, there's a part of me observing from above.
“When I chose this path, I was told there was no guarantee I’d be able to make a living from bamboo in ten years, but I didn't mind that at all. However, I also believe that simply training blindly isn’t quite right. In my case, there's a part of me that pushes forward with passion, but there’s also a part of me that observes from above, thinking, ‘This isn’t good enough,’ and tries to correct it. In this way, I’ve wandered in various directions, continually changing course in pursuit of what was right at the time,” says Hatsuta-san.
The somewhat ethereal atmosphere in Hatsuta-san's speech and demeanor makes him seem more like a novelist or a painter than an artisan. One reason for this might be his unconventional freedom as an artist. After acquiring a certain level of skill in handling bamboo, I believe Hatsuta-san's approach is to constantly question himself—how to engage with bamboo, what he wants to express, and what he hopes to discover beyond that—and eventually try to create even his training style.
This is epitomized by Hatsuta-san’s engagement with the tea ceremony. In 2008, for Hatsuta-san, who was then also making tea utensils, “touching the way of tea” was an unavoidable path. Having an interest, he enrolled in the Urasenke school. He diligently attended lessons for about three years, learning the various aspects of the tea ceremony necessary for an artist, until he suddenly paused.
“The more I learned, the more I felt a sense of ‘fault-finding’ rather than creativity in my work. Of course, through repeated practice, I learned the essential practicality and reasons for making tea utensils. However, I am a bamboo artist. I am not aiming to be a tea master. As an artisan whose mission is to master craftsmanship, distinct from those who should dedicate themselves to and master the way of tea, I need to align the spirit of the tea ceremony with my own sensibilities and creative activities,” says Hatsuta-san.
Several tea scoops were lined up by the window. Some were works in progress. Each had a different expression, from form to size, and seemed to be quietly awaiting the day they would be chosen by a user.
My training is to stick to the themes I set for myself.
"Perhaps from this time, bamboo became a kind of filter for me," says Hatsuta-san. Many things pass through his mind via this filter (bamboo), and Hatsuta-san is the one who then takes the small remnants, considers "why these accumulated within me," and incorporates them into his creative activities.
Hatsuta-san decided to distance himself from tea ceremony practice for a while and to approach his sensibilities as a creator from a different angle. He decided to refrain from carving tea scoops. Instead, he set himself the challenge of "carving a thousand confectionery picks" and accomplished this over three and a half years.
“There was no particular big reason for ‘a thousand,’ but I felt that this number was necessary as I intended to relearn the basic techniques. At the time, few people focused on confectionery picks, so I was able to find my own significance and value in it. I even dared to name these nameless tools ‘Sasanoha,’ and approached them as works of art, despite their small size. I also thought that if I completed a thousand, opening an exhibition with them might reveal new horizons,” says Hatsuta-san.
These are the confectionery picks that marked a turning point for Hatsuta-san. Simple yet elegant, these everyday tools are still beloved by many fans.
I want to delve into the world that lies beneath the broadened base.
The thousand confectionery picks brought Hatsuta-san unexpected benefits beyond just improving his technical skills. One of these was the opportunity to find new connections with many people other than tea practitioners. “I think it also contributed to my own mental and physical well-being,” says Hatsuta-san.
“From 2018, I once again put my efforts into making tea scoops. Continuously carving confectionery picks—a familiar tool without a specific name—gave me many insights, such as time to think about my relationships with others and my own way of being. In that year, I rented a space independently and was able to hold my first exhibition focused solely on tea scoops.” (Hatsuta-san)
Despite their small size, Hatsuta-san cherishes his confectionery picks from the "thousand-piece ascetic training" as "works of art." The "Sasanoha" series and the gilded bamboo soot ones were given the name "Yūzore." However, in 2023, he declared that he would stop producing the standard "Sasanoha." Hatsuta-san speaks of the necessity of letting go to move towards a new world, exhibiting a clean break, similar to when he transitioned from the tea ceremony to the "practice" of making confectionery picks, always willing to abandon the present to find a new star.
"Through the confectionery picks, I was able to meet many people. Perhaps I expanded my base. And rather than aiming for greater heights after expanding the base, I feel a desire to see what kind of world lies deep below that expanded base," says Hatsuta-san.
In the corner and on the ceiling of the workshop, Hatsuta-san's carefully collected bamboo materials were stored. The range of colors was astonishing, each telling a story of the long years that had passed since the bamboo was born, with an elegant luster.
The theme that continuously flows within my heart may be "continuation."
After hearing this story, I feel that the work of a bamboo artist is incredibly ascetic. It's more a way of life, a style, than just a job. It's said that whenever he gets a significant amount of money, he immediately seeks out bamboo materials. Sooted bamboo and old bamboo were born into this world decades ago, and after watching over people's lives in old houses, they finally re-emerge as material when houses are disposed of. Considering the history of bamboo, like a long, thin thread of fate, and how it happens to pass into Hatsuta-san's hands at a certain moment to take on some form, a tremendous amount of time lurks behind each piece.
“Sometimes I get scared if I don’t stop and look around. If I, who am still in the process of growing, keep making and selling cultural tools like tea scoops, won’t I suffer later when I become capable of making even better ones?” (Hatsuta-san)
Hatsuta-san speaks this way, not out of modesty, but with genuine conviction. This exhibition will feature a wide range of works, including baskets and flower vases, in addition to tea scoops and confectionery picks. Some archival works from the past will also be on display.
This will be Hatsuta-san's sixth solo exhibition at MIN GALLERY. At first glance, his quiet bamboo works may not seem to have changed much compared to past ones, but from the artist's inner eye, time is definitely moving forward. Change and continuity. I hope you will come and see these miraculous bamboo works, born from his relentless detours.
An old book about bamboo placed next to the workbench. Old books, materials, conversations with new people, and tea time in the park — everything seems to be spiritual nourishment and creative fuel for Hatsuta-san.
Toru Hatsuta
Born in Tokyo in 1980. While attending Hosei University, he was struck by the beauty of bamboo at a bamboo craft shop he happened to visit, and decided to pursue this path. He was selected for the "East Japan Traditional Craft Exhibition" in 2010 and 2011 consecutively, and has since gradually gained recognition as a young bamboo artist. In 2017, his work was acquired by the National Gallery of Victoria in Australia. He is dedicated to expressing history and culture in his own way, based on his motto of "connecting and joining fragments of bamboo."
text by mayuko yamaguchi
photo by yumiko miyahama