The first bite is rich and creamy; the second is smooth and refreshing. “Milkoro Aging Yogurt,” a two-layer bottled yogurt, is a popular product that has won numerous awards, including the Minister of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Award. Yusuke Oyabu, the mastermind behind the product and a dairy farmer himself, is creating a place where cows’ lives shine through “product development that wins consumers’ hearts.”

Hearing my father express his vulnerabilities for the first time, I decided to take on the family business.

Koshishi, a bedroom community of Kumamoto City, continues to see population growth. “Ooyabu Dairy Farm” is located in one corner of the city.

Founded in 1975, the farm began by raising Holsteins—a breed that accounts for more than 90 percent of Japan’s dairy cattle—and milking and shipping the milk. Yusuke Ooyabu, the current president, took over the family business and began farming in 2001. However, it wasn’t simply a matter of being forced into the family business; rather, he was inspired to become a farmer after meeting a dairy farming couple who traveled abroad every year for training in the United States. He was deeply moved by their way of life—one in which they used “dairy farming” to enrich and shape their own lives—and this encounter became the catalyst for his decision to enter the industry. He had long harbored doubts about the traditional dairy industry structure, but upon witnessing firsthand a standardized industrial system that no individual could possibly change—even if he were to rise to a high position within the industry—he gradually lost motivation and spent his days in a state of frustration.

What dealt the final blow to Mr. Oyabu’s morale was the nationwide production adjustment of raw milk. Production adjustment is a government policy implemented—for example, when dairy product inventories become excessive—that requires producers to curb raw milk production. It takes two years from the time a calf is born until it can be milked. Once the number of dairy farms or the herd size is reduced, it becomes difficult to restore production levels in the short term. For this reason, rather than limiting herd size, inventory levels are adjusted by requiring producers to discard raw milk.

The emotional state of producers who work tirelessly to raise their cows, only to be ordered to discard large quantities of the raw milk they have finally managed to produce, is not something others can easily put into words. Moreover, production adjustments are repeated multiple times depending on inventory levels, and each time, producers bear not only a psychological burden but also the heavy financial burden of declining profits.

In fact, in 2006, a massive surplus of raw milk occurred, and in Hokkaido alone, the equivalent of 900,000 cartons—approximately 900 metric tons—of raw milk was discarded.

That said, cows must be milked every single day; otherwise, they develop mastitis and, in the worst cases, die. It is precisely because of their sense of responsibility and love for these animals that farmers continue to care for them and milk them daily, even when they know the milk will be discarded.

Furthermore, it takes about three years from a calf’s birth until it can be milked for the first time. If we were to limit herd sizes now—for example, by culling cows—simply because there is a surplus of milk, there is a risk that supply would fall short in a few years if a nationwide heatwave were to cause milk production to drop across the country.

Furthermore, dairy farming is a “capital-intensive industry” requiring initial investments ranging from tens of millions to hundreds of millions of yen—covering barn construction, milking robots, tractors, and the dozens of cows themselves. Much of this is financed through long-term loans, so simply saying, “It’s too hard—I’m quitting tomorrow,” is rarely an option.

Overwhelmed by despair, Ms. Oyabu heard Masakatsu voice his frustrations for the very first time. It was a moment when her father’s figure seemed small to her. And she realized that, without even noticing, she had been averting her eyes from the harsh realities of dairy farming.

Ms. Oyabu decided to confront the family business head-on. There was no future in continuing with the same methods. In a dairy farming system where milk is simply shipped to the agricultural cooperative, they have no control over either the price or the volume of their shipments. If they remained trapped in a system where their efforts went unrewarded, it would be difficult to support their family or pass the farm on to the next generation. Feeling a strong sense of crisis about the farm’s current situation, Mr. Oyabu decided to make a major shift—moving away from a dairy farming model focused solely on shipping milk to one where they would create value on their own.

Original Yogurt That Only Dairy Farmers Can Make

What, exactly, could they do? How could they ensure that the lives of the cows born at “Ooyabu Daily Farm” were not wasted, but instead allowed to shine? As he searched for an answer, Mr. Ooyabu arrived at the idea of creating highly original dairy products under the farm’s own brand. Around that time, the farm had also begun raising Jersey cows, which have higher nutritional value than Holsteins and whose raw milk is relatively rare. Mr. Ooyabu learned yogurt production techniques from experienced dairy farmers and bacterial testing methods from a technical support agency in Kumamoto Prefecture. In 2012, he built a small, 2.5-meter-square processing facility on the farm grounds and began producing yogurt using raw milk from his own herd. This is how “Milkoro Aging Yogurt” was born.

“Milkoro Aging Yogurt” has only two ingredients: raw milk from our own Jersey cows and beet sugar. Generally, raw milk undergoes a process called homogenization to uniform the milk fat and stabilize quality, but at “Ooyabu Dairy Farm,” we do not homogenize the milk; instead, we use it as is. As a result, the fat separates and rises to the surface as a layer of cream. Because Jersey cow’s milk is high in fat, the cream layer becomes thick, resulting in a two-layered yogurt—one layer of cream and one layer of yogurt. Believing that this uniqueness adds to the product’s value, they chose raw milk from Jersey cows rather than Holsteins. The two layers have distinct flavors: the cream layer is rich and velvety, like a rare cheesecake, while the yogurt layer offers a smooth, refreshing taste. It possesses such complex aromas and umami that it’s hard to believe it’s made with just two ingredients. Furthermore, the cream layer acts as a lid, allowing fermentation to continue daily within the yogurt layer, where lactic acid bacteria multiply and the flavor evolves over time. That is why we call it “Aging.”

But these aren’t the only features of “Milkoro Aging Yogurt.” Jersey cows are raised on a diet primarily consisting of flaxseed—which is rich in omega-3 fatty acids, an essential component for various bodily functions—and their raw milk naturally contains high levels of omega-3 fatty acids. Furthermore, through repeated selective breeding on the farm, the Jersey cows at “Ooyabu Dairy Farm” have been bred to produce beta-casein A2 milk. Beta-casein A2 milk is said to have a structure similar to that of human breast milk; it is easily absorbed and less likely to cause inflammation in the digestive tract, so it is said to be less likely to cause stomach rumbling when consumed.

“Ooyabu Dairy Farm’s” product development capabilities, which leverage the unique characteristics of its milk, have been recognized nationwide, earning the farm numerous awards, including the Minister of Agriculture, Forestry and Fisheries Award at the 2019 Sixth Industry Awards. The farm has significantly expanded its sales channels, with its yogurt now served at breakfast on JR Kyushu’s luxury train “Seven Stars in Kyushu” and at some of Japan’s leading luxury hotels.

I don’t want to turn a blind eye to the fact that there are lives whose births are not celebrated.

It goes without saying that cows have genders. Female dairy cows produce milk, while males do not. Therefore, males are raised for beef. However, male Jersey calves are often culled shortly after birth because they are smaller in stature and grow more slowly than Holsteins, resulting in lower profitability.

The probability of a male calf being born is about 50%. Mr. Oyabu had long been troubled by the fact that he couldn’t bring himself to feel truly happy from the bottom of his heart when he learned that a calf born on his farm was a male. He didn’t want to turn a blind eye to the reality that there are lives whose births are not celebrated simply because of human convenience. Since they had been born anyway, he wanted to create a place where the lives of male calves could shine. Driven by this desire, he began an initiative to raise male calves until they were one year old—just barely within the break-even point—and then process them into meat. By incorporating this meat into the menu at “MILK’ORO LAB.”—a new café opened on the ranch grounds—he has created a system that carries the baton of life forward.

It was discovered that by raising male calves on a diet primarily consisting of flaxseed—which is rich in omega-3 fatty acids, just like the female calves—the meat contains “ALA (alpha-linolenic acid),” a type of unsaturated fatty acid that aids in anti-aging. Furthermore, the meat is tender and has excellent flavor. If it is not only functional but also delicious, that becomes a reason for consumers to choose it. These efforts have attracted attention even outside the industry, and in June 2025, the farm won second place at the “Japan’s Treasure Legend Grand Prix,” an event held at the Osaka Expo venue to honor outstanding regional foods.

“Developing Products That Stand Out” Will Be the Key to the Future of Dairy Farming

At “Ooyabu Daily Farm,” we actively conduct food education activities centered around “MILK’ORO LAB.” We offer hands-on experiences—such as milking and dairy processing—that allow participants to feel the warmth of life and understand the cycle of food, welcoming approximately 2,000 visitors annually, primarily local children.
Through dairy farming experiences, we hope visitors will feel the warmth of life, and through manufacturing experiences, we hope they will realize that we all depend on others for our survival. However, even if such complex concepts don’t immediately sink in, Mr. Ooyabu believes that simply stepping onto the farm and seeing the cows with their own eyes will allow visitors to feel something meaningful. He also believes that, so that children who develop an interest in cows and the farm will see dairy farming as a promising career, it is crucial for “Ooyabu Dairy Farm” to first establish a sustainable business model. To that end, “developing products that consumers choose” will be the key to the future of dairy farming. As he spoke passionately about his future vision, his eyes were filled with the determination and strength needed to carry the reality of life on the farm into the future.

The post “My mission is to create a place where the lives of cows shine.” Yusuke Oyabu of “Oyabu Dairy Farm” / Koshi City, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

In Hirosaki City—where it is said there were over 100 blacksmith shops during the feudal era—the Nigara family is known as a “prestigious” blacksmithing lineage that has carried on a 350-year tradition since first being commissioned by the Hirosaki Domain to forge swords. The Nigara family’s philosophy, embodied in the motto “Fine craftsmanship speaks for itself,” continues to guide their blade-making to this day.

From Sword Smithing to Farming and Fishing Tools, and On to Kitchen Knives

Japanese swords are primarily made of tamahagane, a type of steel with a higher purity than ordinary iron. While Western swords “cut by striking,” Japanese swords “slice through”—this is the key difference. Japanese kitchen knives have inherited this sword-making technique.

The Nigara Blade Forge was originally located near Hirosaki Castle. In 1949, the fifth-generation master blacksmith, Mr. Nigara Kunitoshi, transformed the family blacksmith shop into a limited liability company and moved it to its current location. At that time, in addition to farming tools such as sickles and hatchets, the forge also produced blades used on fishing vessels for Pacific salmon and trout; however, as demand for these products declined, the company began manufacturing kitchen knives around 1965.

Meanwhile, Mr. Kunitoshi is known nationwide as a swordsmith and has been designated as a Prefectural Intangible Cultural Property. Sword-making reportedly continued until the sixth-generation head, Mr. Shun Nigara.

The 6th-generation owner who laid the foundation for the “Nigara” brand

To create high-quality kitchen knives, Mr. Shun established his techniques not only through a craftsman’s intuition but also by grounding them in academic research. He studied metallurgical engineering and various theories, leaving behind a legacy of modernized knife-making techniques. When he began producing and releasing the Japanese kitchen knife brand “Yoshihisa,” infused with the techniques and spirit he had cultivated over the years, its popularity soared. He laid the foundation for the “Nigara” brand. This was born from the spirit of the Nigara family, whose motto was “Quality speaks for itself.”

Furthermore, in 1974, he established a steel division specializing in construction materials and incorporated the business as a corporation, which led to the refinement of welding techniques.

Since Shun had no heir, his nephew, Toshihisa Yoshizawa, succeeded him as the seventh-generation head of the family. “The Shun I remember was a man of few words. During the ‘Uchi-hajime’ Shinto ritual held on the second day of the New Year, he would forge knives alongside my father,” says Tsuyoshi Yoshizawa, the current president and eighth-generation head of the family.

“The act of creating things and the craft of making blades are a culture. This craft is born from tradition—it was created by our ancestors—and we cannot let it die out.”

Mr. Yoshizawa has expanded the company’s product range to include custom-made kitchen knives tailored to individual users and outdoor knives. He is also the driving force behind preserving the Nigara brand and its spirit to this day.

Judging the browning while navigating through 24 steps

“Knives are made by combining two materials: jigane and tamahagane,” says Mr. Yoshizawa. This is done to compensate for the weaknesses of each material, but he explains that it takes as many as 24 steps to complete the process.

The process begins at the First Factory, where a special powder is applied to bond the two materials together, and the blade is then placed in a 1,200-degree furnace for about 2 to 3 minutes. Once the iron turns orange, it is removed with tongs; Mr. Yoshizawa explains that judging the color of the heat at this stage is the most difficult and crucial step.

The iron is removed from the furnace and gradually shaped into a knife by hammering and stretching it with a mechanical hammer. Subtle adjustments are then made by hammering it further, followed by heating it to a high temperature and quenching it in water. To create a knife with both hardness and toughness, it is then tempered again at a high temperature.

Once this stage is complete, the next step is sharpening. “I’m not particularly dexterous, so it took me more than twice the effort of others, but it takes at least a year—though it varies by person—to get to the point where I can shape a knife to a certain degree. But it’s very rewarding,” Mr. Yoshizawa says firmly.

Light Edging to Improve Sharpness

Once the knives have taken their final shape, they move on to the sharpening process at Plant No. 2. The grinding machines used here were reportedly manufactured by the welding department of the Steel Structures Division.

First, hold the knife with your finger against the grinding wheel, starting from the end known as the “chin” and working toward the tip. While doing so, tilt the knife at an angle of about 25 degrees and sharpen it by sliding it sideways in small increments, taking care not to apply excessive force. Once both sides have been sharpened, the process moves on to “koba-zuke.” “Koba-zuke” involves sharpening the tip thinly on both sides to create a double-beveled edge, which improves the knife’s sharpness—an entire process that requires master craftsmanship. The finished knife features a pattern that stands out, resulting in a gleaming finish.

“Currently, we have a total of 30 employees across the Steel Structures Division and the Cutlery Division. While their levels of skill vary, we generally have each craftsman take sole responsibility for finishing a single knife. Of course, a senior craftsman performs the final inspection.”

A major characteristic of Nigara Cutlery Forge is that each craftsman is free to experiment with designs and other creative aspects. This freedom serves as the foundation for the “Nigara Brand.” Another defining feature of their in-house brand is the consistent quality of their products.

A facility dedicated to crafting specialized knives for cakes and pies, as well as preserving and passing on the skills of master craftsmen

“Fortunately, overseas demand from Asia, Europe, and the United States has been growing in recent years, and about 95% of our production is exported,” says Mr. Yoshizawa. “Most of these exports are thin, lightweight stainless steel knives that are known for their sharpness.”

Stainless steel knives are also made by combining two types of materials, but they are difficult to process and require nearly twice as much time to craft as iron knives. However, their main features are that they are lightweight and resistant to rust.

Furthermore, another major project has come their way: a collaboration with the French outdoor brand Opinel. This appears to be a first in Japan; the handle is designed by Opinel, while the blade is crafted by “Nigara Brand,” and the knives are part of a limited edition of just 2,500 pieces worldwide.

“Going forward, I’d like to take on the challenge of creating knives that can slice through cakes and pies cleanly,” says Yoshizawa, his dreams expanding. “Also, in the future, I hope to establish a facility dedicated to passing down the craftsmanship of master artisans, a tradition that is gradually being lost.”

The post “Nigara Cutlery Forge,” Carrying on a 350-Year Tradition of Cutlery Making / Hirosaki City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

“Sharaku,” which has gained popularity among local sake enthusiasts nationwide for its high quality, and “Aizu Miyaizumi,” which has been beloved locally since the brewery’s founding. “Miyaizumi Meijo” continues to pursue its ideal of sake brewing through these two brands. Amid abundant water sources and a climate ideal for sake brewing, fourth-generation brewery owner Yoshihiro (the older brother, pictured right) and Managing Director Yamato (the younger brother, pictured left) take on the challenge with a passionate desire to “create even better sake.” While meticulously monitoring the ever-changing temperature, humidity, and aromas within the brewery to refine the quality of their sake, the team—led by the Miyamori brothers—works as one to craft their sake.

A sake brewery in Aizu, a region renowned for its sake, that has carried on a 400-year history

Aizu-Wakamatsu City is one of the leading sake-producing regions in the Tohoku region. The Aizu Basin, surrounded on all sides by mountains, experiences significant seasonal temperature fluctuations. With cold winters that keep bacteria at bay, it is blessed with a climate and environment ideally suited for sake brewing. Furthermore, having flourished as a castle town, the area has a long history dating back to the Edo period, when numerous sake breweries were established and competed to refine their brewing techniques.

Located near the famous Tsuruga Castle, the charming brewery “Miyaizumi Meijo” was founded in 1955 (Showa 30). While there are many breweries with hundreds of years of history, this one might seem relatively new—but that is not the case. Miyaizumi Meijo is a brewery that branched off from “Hanaharu Shuzo,” one of the oldest and most prestigious breweries in Aizu-Wakamatsu, founded in 1718 (Kyōhō 3). Although its history as a company is short, it carries on a 400-year tradition of sake brewing.

The exterior, which blends seamlessly into the atmospheric streetscape of this castle town, is designated as a historic landmark, and the brewery grounds themselves are filled with charming spaces. Although it was originally a small facility, it has taken on its current form through a series of expansions. The varying heights of the roofs and the different materials used for the walls add to its unique character, giving the building a rich variety of expressions.

As the fourth-generation head, he is taking on the challenge of revitalizing the brewery and pioneering new brewing methods

The older brother, Yoshihiro, and the younger brother, Yamato, have an unusual background: after graduating from college, they both worked as systems engineers (SEs). In 2002, Yoshihiro quit his job as an SE and returned to Fukushima to turn around the family business, Miyaizumi Meijo. He was 26 years old at the time.

“We completely reevaluated our sake-making methods and production environment from scratch,” Yoshihiro recalls. “Although we had won gold medals several times at the National New Sake Competition, the techniques we’d honed for our competition entries weren’t being applied to our other sakes at all. So I became increasingly determined to apply the knowledge gained from making those competition sakes to our regular retail products and revitalize our lineup.”

At the time, the president was responsible for management, while the head brewer handled production. However, Yoshihiro believed that “if the business leader were also involved in the brewing process, we could get closer to our ideal flavor.” He traveled around the country visiting breweries he believed produced high-quality sake, incorporating their excellent techniques as he pursued a new flavor profile.

The bond between brothers has brought a breath of fresh air to the sake brewery

After working as a systems engineer, Yamato became a secretary to a member of the Diet. One day, his older brother Yoshihiro—who had already returned to their family home—asked him, “Yamato, why don’t we make sake together?” “I’d always wanted to work with my brother someday, so I didn’t hesitate for a moment,” Yamato says with a beaming smile.

“I wanted to produce sake of a consistently high standard, and as the number of stone vats was gradually increasing, I felt I needed my younger brother’s help to improve the quality of our local brand, ‘Aizu Miyaizumi,’” says Yoshihiro. From that point on, a new chapter in sake brewing centered around the brothers began.

In recent years, Yoshihiro has primarily been in charge of brewing “Sharaku,” while Yamato has focused on “Aizu Miyaizumi,” and together they continue to pursue their ideals through these two brands.

Reviving “Sharaku,” Which Once Nearly Disappeared, to Reform the Warehouse

Originally, the “Sharaku” brand belonged to Higashiyama Shuzo, a brewery that traced its roots back to Miyamori Bunjiro Shoten—the original main branch of the Miyamori Shuzo family. Although it was popular among the people of Aizu, Higashiyama Shuzo regrettably went out of business in 2009. Consequently, Miyaizumi Meijo, which shares the same origins, took over the “Sharaku” brand.

“Although we took over the ‘Sharaku’ brand, I wanted to create a sake that would be recognized nationwide, so I poured the sake-making expertise I had cultivated over the years into crafting a new sake,” says Yoshihiro. As a result, “Sharaku”—whose history had once nearly come to an end—has grown into a sake that enjoys nationwide popularity. In 2014, at the “SAKE COMPETITION”—an event that determines Japan’s most delicious commercially available sake—it won first place in both the Junmai and Junmai Ginjo categories, proving its exceptional quality to the nation. Since then, the brewery has continued to strive for even higher quality, and “Sharaku” has become such a renowned sake that it is now a regular gold medal winner at various competitions.

“Aizu Miyaizumi”: Continuing to Take on Technical Challenges

“Aizu Miyaizumi” primarily ships its products within Fukushima Prefecture. Considered a premium sake on par with “Sharaku” in terms of flavor and quality, it achieved remarkable success in 2018 by winning first place nationwide in the Junmai category at the “SAKE COMPETITION” and earning numerous awards at international sake competitions, thereby gaining national attention. Driven by a single-minded desire to “cherish the brand that has been safeguarded by generations of brewers,” the brewery has consistently raised the bar for brewing quality.

“Aizu Miyaizumi will continue to pursue technical challenges as we strive to create the ideal sake,” says Mr. Yamato. The brewery is not content merely to “preserve tradition”; its pursuit of new brewing innovations knows no bounds. Using sake-brewing rice varieties developed by Fukushima Prefecture—such as “Yume no Ka” and “Fuku no Ka”—as well as “Wataribune No. 2,” “Yamada Ho,” “Yamasake No. 4,” and “Oyama Nishiki,” the brewery has produced a diverse range of sakes. “There are still many brewing styles and techniques I’d like to try in the future,” Mr. Yamato says with a delighted smile.

Uncompromising Sake Brewing with High-Quality Water and Rice

The brewery is highly regarded not only for the quality of its sake but also for its strict hygiene standards. Beautifully polished wooden corridors, imposing tanks, and koji quietly maturing over time. While many breweries store their sake at room temperature or in tanks, Miyasumi Meijo strictly adheres to immediate bottling after pressing and refrigerated storage of the entire batch in bottles to prevent oxidation from air exposure and deterioration at room temperature.

“Starting with the process of drawing groundwater to create the brewing water used throughout every stage of sake production—from managing raw materials and the moromi (fermenting mash), to pressing (the process of separating the finished moromi into sake and lees), storage, and shipping—we make no compromises in the work and environment necessary to improve the quality of our sake,” says Mr. Yamato.

Aiming for High-Quality Sake Through Data Management and Accumulation

Inside the brewery, there is a space that exudes a unique atmosphere, much like a laboratory. In the “Analysis Room,” lined with various analytical instruments, there were analyzers capable of measuring data—such as alcohol content, acidity, and Sake Meter Value (sweetness)—necessary for assessing the fermentation progress of the mash before it becomes raw sake.

Both Mr. Yoshihiro and Mr. Yamato majored in science in college, so they are meticulous about collecting data. This is to ensure that they can verify their findings at any time. Believing that “good sake can only be achieved through accumulated experience,” they manage all data related to their research aimed at further advancing sake brewing, as well as data on every batch of sake they actually produce. Through this approach, Miyaizumi Meijo pursues the production of delicious, high-quality sake at the highest possible standards.

With our sights set on the world, we’ll keep taking on new challenges while having fun.

“Our brewery has now reached the ideal scale,” says Yoshihiro with a smile. “We used to be a small brewery that didn’t even produce enough to fill 10 tanks, but now we’re making 150 tanks’ worth. A brewery of about 2,000 koku is ideal because we can keep a close eye on everything.” He goes on to share his new dream: “Going forward, we want to deliver sake that people around the world—not just in Japan—will find delicious, so we’re also considering venturing into exports. I hope our sake will be discovered by people all over the world.”

“Working alongside my brother is incredibly fulfilling,” says Yamato, his eyes sparkling. “I look forward to exploring the exciting world that lies ahead together with my brother, the president.” He reaffirms his resolve: “As the population continues to decline and the number of drinkers shrinks, I believe it’s crucial to reach out to the world. I want to keep taking on new challenges so that people will say, ‘Miyaizumi is doing something fascinating again.’”

As long as these positive challenges continue, the future of Miyaizumi Meijo looks set to become even more exciting. Just imagining what kind of sake they’ll create makes my heart race.

The post Preserving tradition while continuing to take on new challenges. Yoshihiro and Yamato Miyamori of “Miyaizumi Meijo,” who captivate customers with two brands that linger in the heart and memory / Aizuwakamatsu City, Fukushima Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Hiroyuki Kadowaki (pictured right), owner of “CAFE ROSSO,” who took second place at the “World Barista Championship,” one of the world’s largest barista competitions. A barista who has taken on the world from Shimane, he has pursued his own unique cup of coffee through in-house roasting. His younger brother, Yuji (pictured left), who runs “CAFFE VITA,” has also won numerous awards in domestic competitions, including championships, and is active as a seminar instructor and judge. The two are based in Shimane Prefecture, where they were born and raised. Why do they continue to brew coffee here, despite possessing the skills to succeed on the world stage?

My vision of the future was inspired by everyday life with coffee

The ground floor of his family home was a coffee shop, where his father, Yoshimi, brewed coffee every day. He always passed by the shop on his way to and from school. It was a scene he took for granted.

“When I was in eighth grade, the shop switched to in-house roasting, and the coffee became much better,” recalls Hiroyuki. “As I visited various shops with my father to compare the flavors, I found it fascinating that ‘only my father could create that particular taste.’”

Watching his father at work, a future in the coffee business naturally began to take shape. However, as he started to think more concretely about his career path, the feeling that “I can’t surpass my father’s coffee” began to take root. Rather than taking over the shop, he decided he wanted to open his own place, expressing himself in a way that only he could. Driven by this desire, after graduating from high school, he took a job at a Western-style pastry shop in Osaka to learn how to make desserts. He worked as a pastry chef for six years, laying the groundwork to expand his creative expression as a café owner.

In search of my own unique flavor, I headed to Italy

In the mid-1990s, foreign coffee chains began entering the Japanese market. Espresso machines—still a rarity at the time—along with diverse menus and bright, open-concept stores, spread primarily in urban areas, introducing a new way of enjoying coffee. Until then, drip coffee—made by pouring hot water over ground beans—had been the mainstream in Japan. Espresso, brewed under high pressure, was still virtually unknown. “I felt like the possibilities of coffee had suddenly expanded, and I was convinced that ‘this is going to catch on.’” Upon learning that its roots lay in Italy, Hiroyuki traveled there to experience the authentic taste firsthand. He had found the style he wanted to pursue.

Create and nurture your own sense of direction

Espresso is the standard in Italian coffee culture. Yoshi traveled from northern to southern Italy, visiting countless bars (cafés). He gradually developed his own vision for coffee by observing not only the flavors but also the layout of the shops and how customers relaxed. After returning to Japan, he mastered the operation of espresso machines while learning the art of in-house roasting at his father’s shop. Then, in 1999, he opened his own shop, “CAFE ROSSO,” in Yasugi City, the same town as his father’s. Watching his older brother, Yuji naturally decided to pursue a career in coffee as well. Like his brother, he worked at a pastry shop and explored his own style in Italy. He later opened “CAFFE VITA” in Matsue City.

Taking on the Barista Championship

A few years after opening, a turning point arrived. A business partner asked them, “There’s a contest coming up—would you like to enter?” The competition in question was the “Japan Barista Championship,” organized by the Japan Specialty Coffee Association. It is one of the largest barista competitions in the country, held with the aim of promoting a culture of high-quality coffee. Specialty coffee refers to high-quality coffee that meets specific evaluation standards, and a barista’s brewing skills are essential to bringing out its full flavor. The competition evaluates participants comprehensively on factors such as flavor quality, technical skill, and hospitality. They entered the 2003 competition simply to test their skills. To their surprise, Hiroyuki won first place and Yuji took second. It was the moment their skills were objectively recognized.

Runner-up at the World Championship. The decision to roast their own beans that led to this achievement

In 2005, Hiroyuki competed in the World Barista Championship. This global competition, open only to winners of the aforementioned national tournament, marked his debut as a representative of Japan. The judging criteria included not only taste but also service skills and presentation. At the time, it was no easy feat for an Asian to take on the espresso culture of Europe and the United States.

However, Hiroyuki took second place with a unique presentation featuring beans he had roasted himself. “Back then, almost everyone used commercially available beans. But I used beans I roasted myself and competed with an original flavor profile.” He established the foundation of the flavor through roasting and maximized that flavor during extraction. This choice, made to create a taste unlike any other, is undoubtedly still alive in his coffee-making today.

Our Commitment to Roasting: What Defines the Taste of Our Coffee

Even with the same beans, the flavor of coffee can vary greatly depending on the roast. Slight differences in heat and time can affect the acidity, sweetness, and body. “I once drank coffee brewed by a top-tier barista and was amazed by the depth of flavor. I thought, ‘I want to aim for this taste,’ but I realized that brewing alone wasn’t enough—I needed to create the flavor through roasting. That’s when I decided to seriously pursue roasting,” he says, recounting his beginnings. He wants to take full responsibility for the flavor, right to the very end.

Designing the flavors we want to deliver

Since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, more people have been enjoying coffee at home. At the shop run by the two of them, they also sell coffee beans and drip bags. Authentic ways of enjoying coffee, such as grinding the beans and brewing them yourself, are becoming increasingly popular. “To ensure our customers can enjoy delicious coffee, we deliver beans that have been carefully roasted to bring out their full flavor. While our baristas bring out the maximum flavor in the shop, it’s difficult to replicate that at home. That’s why we’re researching the timing of the roast and the proportion of the bean’s outer layer to ensure it tastes great no matter who brews it,” says Yuji. Their current goal is to achieve a rich, reddish-brown crema (foam) and a body that holds its own against milk.

Hiroyuki, too, remains unwavering in his pursuit of the ideal flavor, saying, “I want to convey the thrill I felt when I drank coffee in Naples, Italy.”

They aim to bring happiness through coffee. Roasting is simply one means to that end.

We continue to create coffee that complements any occasion

In recent years, there has also been growing interest in specialty coffee that emphasizes specific origins. Single-origin coffee, made from beans produced in a specific region, stands out for its distinct character. On the other hand, the appeal of blends—which combine beans from multiple origins—lies in the diverse flavors they offer depending on the mix.

The shop carries two types of coffee beans: Arabica and Robusta. While Arabica beans have a vibrant aroma and fruity acidity, Robusta beans are characterized by their strong bitterness and deep body. By carefully assessing each origin and its unique characteristics, they create the optimal flavor profile.

With coffee bean prices continuing to rise, they suggest a variety of ways to enjoy coffee: “For everyday life, enjoy a wide range of flavors with an affordable blend, and on special occasions, treat yourself to the luxurious experience of single-origin coffee.”

The coffee they serve isn’t meant to impress with its “greatness”; rather, it’s a cup that naturally makes you say, “This is delicious.”

In a town where the tea ceremony culture runs deep, we are dedicated solely to coffee

The Matsue area is also known for the fact that during the Edo period, the feudal lord Matsudaira Fumai promoted the tea ceremony. In this town, where the culture of the tea ceremony has taken root, a daily cup of tea has always been cherished. Coffee, too, is something to be enjoyed naturally as part of everyday life. What they seek is not a taste that surprises, but one that makes you want to have another cup.

When asked about their future plans, Hiroyuki says, “We want to pursue our own unique coffee and share it with the whole country. We aim for a flavor that makes people think, ‘I didn’t know coffee could taste this good.’” Yuji adds, “We want to offer ways to enjoy coffee from various angles. We don’t just run a café; we also hold coffee machine demonstrations and seminars.”

Hiroyuki refines the “flavor,” while Yuji spreads the “culture.” While their approach of staying close to everyday life is a common thread, their individual passions are guiding coffee-infused living in a positive direction. The cup of coffee born in Shimane will continue to enrich the daily lives of many people.

The post In pursuit of the perfect cup of coffee that enriches everyday life. Hiroyuki and Yuji Kadowaki / Yasugi City and Matsue City, Shimane Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Izumo Taisha is known as the shrine of matchmaking. The massive shimenawa rope displayed in its Kagura Hall is an iconic sight that draws visitors’ eyes upward. The organization responsible for crafting this grand shimenawa is the Tonbara Branch of the Izumo Taisha Kan’no-kō Society, located in Iinan Town, Shimane Prefecture. The craft of shimenawa-making, which supports this land of myth, has been passed down as a source of pride for the town.

Giant Shimenawa Ropes Crafted in a Mountain Village Workshop

Iinan Town, located in Shimane Prefecture, is surrounded by the mountains of the Chugoku Range. It is a quiet place where snow falls in winter and is blessed with clear water and fertile fields. The “Izumo Taisha Kanno-kōsha Tonbara Branch” is responsible for crafting the large shimenawa (sacred straw ropes) at the “Oshimenawa Creation Hall” in the town. Mr. Wada serves as the branch’s representative, supporting the long-standing tradition of offering these ropes in this region.

The Tradition of Making Shimenawa Passed Down in the Mountains

The Tonbara Branch of the Izumo Taisha Agricultural Promotion Society is responsible for crafting one of the largest sacred straw ropes in Japan. Its destination is the Kagura-den Hall at Izumo Taisha, which attracts worshippers from all over the country. It measures approximately 13.6 meters in length and weighs about 5 tons. Its sheer scale is so impressive that first-time visitors instinctively stop in their tracks and look up in awe. However, the place where this magnificent shimenawa is created is a workshop located in a mountain village, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the tourist area.

The Connection Between the Giant Shimenawa and Iinan Town

The connection between Iinan Town and the giant shimenawa dates back to the 1950s. At that time, a branch of Izumo Taisha was located in the area. It is said that, as a result of this connection, local residents and worshippers began crafting shimenawa to dedicate to the shrine.

Later, in 1981, when the Izumo Taisha Kagura Hall was constructed, a request was made to create a new shimenawa. The result was a massive shimenawa measuring approximately 13.6 meters in length. To create a shimenawa of a size befitting the Kagura Hall, local residents joined forces to undertake the project. Work on the shimenawa continued, moving from the auditorium of Tonbara Elementary School to the gymnasium of the junior high school. Finally, in 2015, the “Great Shimenawa Creation Hall” was completed as a dedicated facility for shimenawa production.

The “Great Shimenawa Creation Hall,” which preserves the tradition of shimenawa to this day

Essentially, shimenawa serve as a “barrier” separating the realm where deities dwell from the world in which we live. Since ancient times, they have been displayed at shrines, household altars, and home entrances, becoming deeply ingrained in Japanese daily life. At the “Oshimenawa Creation Museum,” visitors can view photographs and materials that trace the history of shimenawa and learn about the local tradition of shimenawa-making that has been passed down through the generations.

Shimenawa woven with skilled craftsmanship

As you proceed further inside, a workshop opens up before you. There, artisans are busy weaving shimenawa ropes. Some weave, others prepare the core, and still others craft small components. The work progresses as each person fulfills their specific role. The scent of dried rice straw fills the air, and the soft sound of twisted straw bundles echoes quietly. The artisans take the straw in their hands and twist it with all their strength, shaping it into a single rope.

At first glance, making shimenawa may seem like a simple task, but creating ropes of uniform thickness requires skilled craftsmanship. How much force to apply when tightening the bundles of straw, and at what angle to twist them together—these nuances are acquired through years of experience.

Making a giant shimenawa to be hung at the Kagura Hall

While the creation of standard shimenawa ropes usually takes place in the back room of the Creative Center, the atmosphere inside changes dramatically when crafting the giant shimenawa to be hung at the Kagura Hall of Izumo Taisha. To create this massive rope, which measures approximately 13.6 meters, the entire building is utilized for the production process.

The giant shimenawa is not made from a single rope. It is completed by braiding multiple thick ropes and combining them. The process of bundling straw, twisting it together, and then assembling the structure requires a great deal of time and manpower.

Rice cultivation for rope-making also takes place in Iinan Town

The production of the giant shimenawa begins in the spring, with the rice planting. The basic principle is to use materials produced locally in Iinan Town, and there are rice paddies within the town specifically designated for shimenawa. The variety of glutinous rice grown here is called “Akaho Mochi.” It is stickier than ordinary glutinous rice and is characterized by its resistance to breaking when twisted into a rope. Such sturdy rice is essential for making massive ropes like the giant shimenawa.

Unlike rice grown for consumption, the rice used for shimenawa is harvested before the grains mature. This is because the stalks, while still green and with strong fibers, produce a stronger and more beautiful rope. The harvested rice is dried, bundled, and eventually twisted into rope. Freshly made shimenawa retains a faint hint of the rice’s green hue. Over time, the color fades, eventually transforming into the familiar, subdued brown seen at shrines.

The Kagura Hall will be renovated this summer

Toward the end of the production process, there is a stage known as “grand twisting.” This involves bundling together numerous thick ropes and twisting them into a single, massive rope. Since this is difficult to accomplish with machinery alone, it requires the combined strength of many people. In Iinan Town, volunteers are recruited to participate in this stage, and local residents and other willing helpers work together to complete the rope. It is said that a total of 800 people are involved in the creation of the giant shimenawa. The massive shimenawa is completed not only by the craftsmen but also through the efforts of the townspeople.

Shimenawa Making: From Iinan Town to the Whole Country

Once the craft center was established and the production process was opened to the public, the technique gained widespread recognition. Today, the center reportedly receives orders for shimenawa from shrines and facilities across Japan, as well as from overseas.

As a result, shimenawa production continues year-round at the center, even during periods when large shimenawa are not being made. The ropes come in a variety of sizes and serve various purposes; from those displayed at shrines to those used for decorating public facilities, the ropes woven in Izumo are shipped to locations all over the country.

Sharing our local pride with all of Japan and future generations

“Making shimenawa is a source of pride for this region,” says Mr. Wada. The shimenawa-making techniques developed here in Iinan Town have now spread throughout the country, becoming an integral part of places of worship across Japan.

At the same time, Iinan Town is facing an aging population. How to pass on the art of shimenawa-making to the next generation is a major challenge. Nevertheless, even today, straw is being bundled and ropes are being twisted in this town. This traditional craft, along with the pride of the community, is being passed down to all corners of Japan, overseas, and into the future.

The post The Tradition of Shimenawa Making Passed Down in Iinan Town, the Birthplace of Japan’s Largest Shimenawa—Izumo Taisha Kan’nōkōsha Tonbara Branch / Iinan Town, Shimane Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Located on the main island of Okinawa, in Naha City, Shuri is a district known for its particularly historic, old-fashioned streetscape. Right in the heart of Shuri Castle, Tamanaha Miso Shoyu has been crafting miso for 170 years. Using the same methods as when the company was founded, they continue to produce their miso through natural fermentation in well-seasoned wooden barrels.

A miso brewery in Okinawa that makes its own miso from scratch using koji—a rarity even in Okinawa

Until about 120 years ago, Okinawa was a single kingdom known as Ryukyu. Shuri, home to Shuri Castle, served as the capital of the Ryukyu Kingdom. This area was once lined with samurai residences. In fact, it was here—on the site of a former samurai residence—that Tamanaha Miso & Soy Sauce began producing miso and soy sauce between 1855 and 1860, during the final years of the Ryukyu Kingdom.

The koji mold that survived the ravages of war

As you walk up the hill, you’ll come across an old stone wall that exudes a sense of history. This imposing, stately wall dates back to before the war. Although the building itself was destroyed during the Battle of Okinawa, the pillars that survived the fire were preserved in an air-raid shelter, and it is said that the koji mold that grew on them helped preserve the distinctive flavor of Tamana.

Even within Okinawa Prefecture, miso breweries that make miso from scratch using koji are rare. Although they used to brew soy sauce as well, production was suspended about 10 years ago due to aging equipment.

Even after the transition to U.S. military rule, there were reportedly quite a few breweries producing miso and soy sauce in Shuri alone. However, following the reversion to Japanese sovereignty in 1972, products from outside the prefecture flooded the market, causing most of these breweries to go out of business.

The “entirely handmade” miso-making tradition upheld by the fifth-generation master

The current head of Tamana Miso Shoyu is Yumi Oshiro, the sixth-generation head of the family. She is the eldest daughter of Arinori Tamana, the fifth-generation head, who passed away in April 2025.

Brewed in well-seasoned wooden barrels, with careful maintenance

We use traditional wooden barrels to make our miso. We mix steamed whole soybeans with rice koji and Okinawan sea salt, then allow the mixture to ferment and mature.

As he opened the door to the koji room, a wave of muggy air poured out. Inside the room, where the temperature hovered around 36°C due to the fermentation of the koji, the plant manager was intently studying the rows of koji boxes lined up before him.

The photo shows the starter culture prepared two days ago. The rice koji, made from domestic rice used in the company’s miso, turns yellowish about four days after the starter culture is added. As fermentation progresses further, the temperature inside the fermentation room reportedly reaches around 40°C.

In Okinawa’s hot and humid climate, microorganisms are highly active, making fermentation progress more easily than on the mainland. After fermenting and aging for about 3 to 4 months in the summer and 6 to 7 months in the winter, the miso is ready.

Our signature product, “Dyōcho Miso,” is made with soybeans from Kyushu. It has a mellow flavor with a subtle sweetness from the rice and soybeans. We also produce “Shuri Miso,” made with soybeans from overseas; “Uchin Miso,” which contains turmeric; and “Special Selection Miso,” a blend of rice and barley miso.

In addition to selling directly from their store, they have sold their products at local supermarkets and online. At one point, production couldn’t keep up with demand, and they had to stop accepting new online orders, but they have now resumed sales at a pace of once or twice a month.

“Our miso costs 1,000 yen, but there are people who are willing to pay 1,200 yen in shipping just to buy it from the mainland. We’re truly grateful,” says Yumi.

The ideal environment for bacteria

Okinawa, where temperature fluctuations are relatively mild throughout the year, provides an ideal environment for bacterial activity. Inside large barrels, lactic acid bacteria and yeast are actively at work as the miso matures. The rows of well-worn barrels may be misshapen or have leaks, but they are carefully repaired time and again to ensure they can be used for as long as possible. By minimizing the need to replace them, the shop has preserved the same flavor it has offered since its founding.

Although they could have opted for easier-to-maintain enamel or reinforced plastic tanks, they chose to keep the wooden one because wood provides excellent insulation and heat retention, allowing it to maintain a consistent temperature regardless of the weather. As a result, they have been carefully maintaining and using it for decades.

Even though production can’t keep up with demand, we never compromise on efficiency; we continue to follow the traditional methods that have been carefully preserved over the years.

Although Tamanaha Miso and Soy Sauce remains in short supply, we ensure a steady supply of our miso for the school lunches at a nearby daycare center. We support the daycare’s food education program and want the children to grow up eating local foods made right here in our community.

New wooden barrels for the first time in 80 years

In fact, in February 2026, we just acquired a brand-new wooden barrel for the first time in 80 years. Crafted by one of the few remaining traditional wooden barrel makers on the mainland—a profession that is becoming increasingly rare in Japan—it was assembled using no metal whatsoever, relying solely on cedar planks, bamboo nails, and a bamboo hoop. We are now beginning to brew miso in this brand-new wooden barrel, which is said to last for 100 years.

Miso is a fermented seasoning that represents Japan’s proud culture of fermentation. Nationwide, the number of miso breweries that make miso from scratch using koji has dwindled, and those that ferment it in wooden barrels can be counted on one hand.

The unique flavor of this miso is the result of a combination of traditional, unchanging handcrafted methods and the environment unique to this location. To preserve the flavor that has been carefully passed down through generations, the challenges of this small miso brewery continue.

The post Naturally brewed in wooden barrels since the days of the Ryukyu Kingdom: Tamanaha Miso Soy Sauce / Naha City, Okinawa Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Hirosaki Park is known as one of the premier cherry blossom viewing spots in the Tohoku region, with many saying, “When it comes to Aomori Prefecture’s most famous cherry blossom spots, Hirosaki Park is the place to go.” The park is also known as Ouyouen and stands on the site of Hirosaki Castle, the seat of the Tsugaru clan, which ruled over a domain of 100,000 koku. Spanning a total area of approximately 50 hectares, the park features remnants of the castle, including the main keep, moats, watchtowers, and castle gates. During cherry blossom season, some 2,600 cherry trees bloom in spectacular fashion.

The History of Hirosaki Castle

The main keep of Hirosaki Castle is one of 12 keeps built during the Edo period and is the only surviving keep in the Tohoku and Hokkaido regions.

The castle ruins are designated as a National Historic Site, and the surviving main keep, turrets, and castle gates are also designated as Important Cultural Properties. Hirosaki Park is located in the center of Hirosaki City. It covers a vast area of approximately 600 meters east to west and 1,000 meters north to south, with a total area of about 50 hectares. Within the park, in addition to the castle keep (the Tatsumi Yagura in the Honmaru), six bailey areas surrounded by moats and earthen ramparts, three turrets, and five castle gates remain.

“I believe it’s rare even nationwide to find such a large-scale castle complex open to the public as a park while retaining its original appearance,” said Kokoro Shōji, Chief of the Hirosaki Castle Maintenance and Utilization Promotion Office in the Hirosaki City Parks and Green Spaces Division.

The History Leading Up to the Construction of Hirosaki Castle

By 1590, Tsugaru Tamenobu had secured confirmation of his lands in Tsugaru from Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and in 1603, he decided to build a new castle, selecting the site at Takaoka. However, progress on the project was slow, and Tsugaru Tamenobu died of illness in Kyoto in 1607 without ever seeing the castle completed. He was 58 years old. Subsequently, his third son, Nobuhira, who became the second lord of the domain, completed Takaoka Castle (now Hirosaki Castle) in 1611.

Why Hirosaki Castle Was Reduced from Five Stories to Three

“The castle tower originally had five stories and was located in the southwest corner of the inner bailey when the castle was first built, but it was destroyed by a lightning strike in 1627,” says Mr. Shōji. “After the castle tower burned down, there was a strong movement to rebuild it, but the plans stalled midway. Later, when the Hirosaki domain’s rice yield reached 100,000 koku, the 9th lord, Yasuchika, rebuilt it in 1810 under the pretext of constructing the Tatsumi Turret of the Honmaru; this structure remains as the castle tower today.” The town’s name was changed from “Takaoka” to the current “Hirosaki” the year after the fire, reportedly as a way to ward off misfortune.

From the turmoil of the Shogunate’s fall to a symbol of the people of Hirosaki

Eventually, the Meiji Restoration led to the dissolution of the Hirosaki Domain. Hirosaki Castle came under the control of the Ministry of the Army, and during the war, it was used as a branch of the Army Ordnance Depot—a regional office responsible for the supply, storage, and management of weapons and ammunition. Although some facilities, such as the Honmaru Palace and the Treasure House, were dismantled, the castle keep, gates, and turrets were preserved. Furthermore, because many of the ruins escaped damage during the Pacific War and remain in their original state, the site has been designated a valuable National Historic Site.

Amidst these developments, the area excluding the Sannomaru—which had been used as an Army powder magazine—was opened to the public as Hirosaki Park in 1895. The three-story main keep stands approximately 15 meters tall, offering a magnificent view that takes in the entire park and Mount Iwaki, known as “Tsugaru Fuji.”

This historic site has evolved from the “Kan’ōkai” cherry blossom viewing party to the “Hirosaki Cherry Blossom Festival”

Just as people begin to feel the weight of winter lift, some 2,600 cherry trees of 52 varieties—including Somei-Yoshino, double-flowered cherry, and weeping cherry—bloom beautifully across the park’s expansive 50-hectare grounds. Within the park, which offers views of snow-capped Mount Iwaki, countless circles of people gathered for drinking parties—those who have longed for spring—spread out, and the sounds of Tsugaru folk songs can be heard from all around. Even now, more than 400 years after its construction, Hirosaki Park, home to Hirosaki Castle, continues to be cherished by the citizens as the first place that comes to mind when they think of a place to relax.

The post “Hirosaki Park,” overlooking the ruins of Hirosaki Castle—the only surviving castle keep in the Tohoku region / Hirosaki City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

The creators of large-scale Nebuta floats, known as “Nebuta masters,” are the artisans who shape the face of the Aomori Nebuta Festival. Among them, Hiroo Takenami is one of only seven people ever to have been awarded the title of “Nebuta Master”—a distinction granted to creators who have contributed to the Aomori Nebuta Festival through their exceptional skills over many years. While preserving the centuries-old tradition of Nebuta as a folk festival, he is also an artist who pushes the boundaries of Nebuta as a sculptural art form.

One of Japan’s premier fire festivals, a source of pride for Aomori City 

The Aomori Nebuta Festival is a summer festival held annually in Aomori City, Aomori Prefecture, from August 2 to 7. More than 20 large Nebuta floats parade through the city streets, accompanied by dancers known as “Haneto” who perform wild dances to the chant of “Rassera,” as well as musicians playing flutes and drums. During the festival, the city attracts more than 1 million visitors.

From a Local Folk Event to a Major Festival

Although it is now one of Japan’s most iconic festivals, its origins lie in a folk tradition. Throughout Aomori Prefecture—excluding the Nanbu region—various local festivals known as “Nebuta” or “Neputa” are held. While the names and forms vary by region, they share the same roots and are believed to have evolved from Tanabata customs. While there are various theories, one suggests the influence of “nemuri-nagashi” (a ritual to dispel drowsiness that hinders farm work), and that the name evolved from “neputē” (meaning “sleepy” in the Tsugaru dialect) to “Nebuta” or “Neputa.”

As for records of the Nebuta in Aomori City, an ancient document remains indicating that Nebuta floats were paraded in Ohama (present-day Aburakawa, Aomori City) in 1730 (the 15th year of the Kyōhō era). While this is considered the first recorded appearance of “Aomori Nebuta,” it is believed that the festival had actually been held as an annual event long before that, even if it was not formally documented.

“The Nebuta festivals throughout the prefecture, including Aomori City, have been passed down for hundreds of years solely through the dedication of the townspeople. I believe it is a truly rare and precious festival,” says Mr. Takenami. Over the long course of time, even as social conditions and the shape of the town have changed, Nebuta has been passed down and has continued to evolve. Behind this must surely lie the passionate dedication of the people of this land.

In modern times, while each neighborhood created and paraded its own Nebuta floats, the trend toward commercialization led to increasingly larger floats. Although the traditions of local Nebuta remained, the focus of the festival shifted to the “Aomori Nebuta Festival,” which is organized by corporations. Regarding the float builders, while the floats were originally crafted by skilled, Nebuta-loving locals, the larger floats came to be created by specialized builders—known as Nebuta-shi—who had honed their technical skills.

“Nebuta masters,” the creators of large-scale Nebuta floats

In the past, Nebuta and Neputa floats were made of washi paper and bamboo, with candles lit inside. They came in both doll-shaped and fan-shaped varieties, with the Aomori Nebuta primarily featuring the doll-shaped design. After World War II, as national highways were widened, the floats gradually evolved into their current wide, horizontal shape, and the materials used also advanced. Today, washi paper is attached to a wire frame, and LED lights are used for illumination.

As of 2025, there are about a dozen “Nebuta masters” who create these floats, and Mr. Takenami is one of them. Mr. Takenami says he begins thinking about the theme for the following year even before the current festival ends. The themes are primarily drawn from Kabuki, history, and legends. He coordinates the theme with the sponsoring company, researches literature and historical materials, develops a concept, and then draws the original artwork. Mr. Takenami describes this process of creating the original artwork as “the most important part of a Nebuta master’s work.” “Even with the same subject or scene, the expression varies depending on the creator’s individuality. It requires sensitivity in turning a captured scene into a painting, as well as a sense of color,” he explains. He completes the pencil sketch of the original artwork by around New Year’s and prepares the details, such as the face and limbs, in advance. In May, he moves to the “Rasseland,” a workshop dedicated to Nebuta. They build a framework using square timber pillars as a base, install lighting, apply Japanese paper, and proceed to the “kakigiri” stage, where they draw the faces and outlines in ink. The kakigiri stage is also a crucial part of the process; Takemura says that drawing the facial expressions, which determine the character’s look, “makes me nervous no matter how many times I do it.” Once this is finished, they apply patterns with wax and then use a mixture of paints and dyes to color the float using brushes, paintbrushes, and spray cans to complete it.

The Nebuta master does not perform all the work alone; carpentry, paper application, and lighting installation are handled by specialists and staff, with the Nebuta master serving as the on-site supervisor during these phases. The moment when the Nebuta, completed through the efforts of so many people, is loaded onto a cart—known as “taage”—is said to be exceptionally moving. From conception to completion, it takes a full year to create a Nebuta. While Mr. Takenami is one such example, there are also masters who handle multiple floats, and being a Nebuta master demands that level of skill.

“I was born to make Nebuta floats.” A life captivated by Nebuta

Mr. Takenami is originally from the former town of Kizukuri (now Tsugaru City). That town also had its own small, community-based Nebuta Festival, and the neighborhood association where Mr. Takenami was born and raised would send a float every year. He was captivated by those Nebuta floats from a young age. “I think it started when I was three. Apparently, I was a child who talked about nothing but Nebuta, Nebuta. Eventually, my family took me to see the big Nebuta floats in Aomori. And that’s when I became completely obsessed.”

At the age of 19, he began visiting the nebutah workshop of Chiba Sakuryu (the fifth-generation master) and started helping out. “Among the many creators, Mr. Chiba’s nebutah floats looked very stylish and fresh. So, I wanted to try assisting him. When I knocked on his door, he accepted me.” From then on, he devoted himself entirely to the craft, making his debut with a large-scale Nebuta float in 1989 at the age of 30. Since then, in addition to creating floats for the Aomori Nebuta Festival every year, he has played a central role in the industry, including working on Nebuta floats for tours to Budapest in 1996, the Tokyo Dome in 1998, and Los Angeles in 2007. In 2010, he established the “Nebuta Research Institute” to facilitate year-round activities. In 2023, at the age of 63, he was certified as the seventh-generation Nebuta Master.

“The things that were as precious to me as toys when I was a child remain just as precious to me even as an adult,” says Takenami with a smile. “Perhaps my values haven’t changed since I was three or four years old.” He adds, “Now, I believe I was born to make Nebuta floats.”

The three-dimensionality and colors breathe life into the Nebuta floats

Mr. Takenami says he doesn’t particularly like to depict battle scenes. “Most of my work features guardian deities that ward off evil and drive away demons, such as Kongo Rikishi and Nio statues,” he explains. Even when he depicts figures holding swords, he says they are often held not so much as weapons but to ward off evil. This is Mr. Takenami’s unique style and artistic expression. “It’s really hard to decide on a theme every year,” as Takenami says. Since approximately 23 Nebuta floats are produced for the Aomori Nebuta Festival each year—amounting to about 230 over a decade—it’s inevitable that themes will overlap with past floats, and scenes may repeat. “In the world of creation, where everyone has idols and ideals, the challenge lies in how to express my own unique voice,” he confides.

Amidst this, Takenami’s “sense of self” lies in creating a sense of depth and three-dimensionality in the Nebuta floats. “How do I arrange and fit the characters’ body parts within a cube measuring 9 meters wide, 7 meters deep, and 5 meters high? The way they’re placed completely changes how they look, so I’m particularly meticulous about that aspect,” he explains. Furthermore, he notes that the arrangement of colors is crucial. Takenami explains that he uses a single primary color—such as his favorite red—as a core, then arranges other hues around it as if scattering them out from that point. He uses color to convey a sense of power so that, during the actual festival, the Nebuta floats appear vigorous as they sway slowly toward the spectators lining the streets from afar. “I also make a conscious effort to draw ink lines that have a strong presence,” he adds. While painting the colors is often a collaborative effort with my staff, I draw every single ink line myself. That’s because the ink lines are what give the design its distinctive character.” It can be said that the heroic grandeur of the approaching Nebuta floats is brought to life through the ingenuity and hard work of the Nebuta masters.

It’s better not to lose to yourself than to lose to others

At the 2025 Aomori Nebuta Festival, Mr. Takenami won the Nebuta Grand Prize and the Best Creator Award for the Aomori Ryoyukai’s float, “Kaiō.” “Kaiō” will be on display at the Aomori City Culture, Tourism, and Exchange Facility, Nebuta no Ie Wa-Rasse, until August 9, 2026, when it will be replaced by the next award-winning float.

The year 2025 marked the 400th anniversary of the opening of Aomori Port. With this theme in mind, the float depicted the majestic figure of Poseidon, the guardian deity of the sea, rendered in a traditional Japanese style, as a way to reflect on Aomori City’s history—a history shaped by the sea—and to express hopes for its continued prosperity. Surrounding Poseidon, dressed as a Japanese warrior, are shachi (mythical creatures with the body of a fish and the head of a tiger) and fish-bodied dragons. At the rear, dolphins—which inhabit the waters off Aomori—were placed to emphasize that the setting is the Sea of Aomori. “The contrast between the color of the waves and the yellow tones of the shachi creates a strong visual impact,” said Takenami. “Additionally, for the ink-wash sections, I deliberately drew the lines representing Poseidon’s arms and ribs to be strong and rough,” said Takenami. Upon receiving the award, he commented, “I was able to express something truly powerful and impactful—this is what Nebuta is all about.” The award was a testament to Takenami’s unique artistic vision.

The Grand Prize-winning Nebuta float is placed in the most prominent spot in Wa-Rasse’s “Nebuta Hall.” Standing in front of “Kaiō,” Mr. Takenami said, “Every time I come here, it motivates me to return to this spot again next year. I create a Nebuta float every year, and I really struggle with it every time, but that struggle is also part of the fun. It’s not like a sport where you get clear, numerical results, so rather than aiming to beat others, I set a goal for myself: not to lose to myself. I refuse to compromise on anything when it comes to what my intuition tells me I want to create. I don’t tell anyone this, but I hold that principle—not losing to myself—in high regard.”

Thinking of the future, we’re giving Nebuta a new look

When Mr. Takenami first entered this field, being a Nebuta artist was not yet established as a profession. Even if he spent a year on a single piece, he couldn’t make a living from it. However, Nebuta has continued to grow and has become something we can be proud of on the world stage. People even come to Mr. Takenami, willing to relocate just to make Nebuta. “The people who come to us are the ones who will support the future of Nebuta. To ensure Nebuta’s legacy lives on, we must establish it as a profession so that these people can make a living as Nebuta artisans. By recognizing Nebuta’s value not just as a festival prop but as a work of art, can’t we expand its possibilities?” It was this conviction that led him to establish the research institute.

However, he says the institute faced strong opposition when it was first established. Many argued, “Nebuta is not art; it is, after all, just a festival.”

Nevertheless, Mr. Takenami continued to explore new possibilities for Nebuta based on the concept of “sculptures of paper and light.” He launched “NEBUTA STYLE,” a brand featuring interior goods and apparel made using Nebuta techniques, and created decorative objects for restaurants and hotels. By embracing this role as a sculptor, he built a sustainable livelihood. Moreover, these new products help spread the appeal of Nebuta. Mr. Takenami feels that as his dreams gradually come true, the attitudes of those around him have also begun to change.

Mr. Takenami’s goal for the future is to promote Nebuta more widely around the world as a form of Japanese culture and as a work of art crafted from washi paper. “When I’ve taken Nebuta to places like the United States and Budapest, the crowd gasped in awe the moment the lanterns were lit. Everyone was truly amazed and delighted. I’d like to take it to other countries, such as Europe, where people aren’t yet familiar with Nebuta.” As he spoke, Mr. Takenami’s eyes shone brightly, as if the eyes of the young boy who had always admired Nebuta were still there.

The post Carrying on tradition while embracing creativity. Nebuta artist Hiroo Takenami / Aomori City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Koganezaki Farm produces more than 30 varieties of vegetables—including leafy greens, potatoes for processing, and seed potatoes—on one of the largest plots of land in the country. Its client list includes major corporations, and in 2025, its cabbage became the first in Aomori Prefecture to receive JGAP certification. The farm continues to demonstrate the true potential of locally grown vegetables and support the next generation of farmers.

Agriculture that embodies the spirit of Aomori, making the most of its vast land and convenient location

Koganezaki Farm, which operates on 500 hectares of land (equivalent to 100 Tokyo Domes), supplies over 30 varieties of seed potatoes—as well as potatoes, cabbage, daikon radishes, and other crops—to customers across Japan. Its client base spans from Hokkaido to Okinawa and includes major companies such as Calbee and Koikeya, as the farm continues to cultivate crops that take full advantage of Aomori’s unique soil and climate.

Beyond its scale and quality, the farm boasts advantages unique to Aomori. It was these advantages that caught the attention of founder Kimio Sasaki and three other farmers. They aimed to establish a sustainable agricultural business by leveraging the climate, which resembles that of Hokkaido, and the convenience of the land.

Farmers earning salaries comparable to those of office workers

Mr. Sasaki founded the company in 1976, when he was in his twenties. Concerned about the instability of the weather and vegetable prices, he and four colleagues discussed the idea of “whether it was possible to run a farm with a stable income, like that of a salaried employee,” and established a corporate entity. They believed this would allow them to expand their operations and reduce costs, and that any profits generated would translate into salaries.

From the very beginning, they adopted land-intensive agriculture. Land-intensive agriculture is a farming method that utilizes vast tracts of land and incorporates large-scale machinery and smart farming to improve operational efficiency. It also aims to mitigate the effects of crop rotation problems—where continuous cultivation of the same crop in the same field leads to changes in the soil environment and poor growth—by rotating crops. Their goal was to create a large-scale farm modeled after those in Hokkaido. One reason they envisioned a scale similar to Hokkaido’s was the similarity in climate. Many potato varieties thrive in cool regions, and Aomori’s significant temperature difference between day and night is said to be ideal for producing high-quality potatoes.

Furthermore, Aomori’s greatest strength is the ability to distribute produce via land transport. Since it is crucial to deliver leafy vegetables as quickly as possible—even by a single day—this gives them an advantage over Hokkaido when dealing with clients in the Kanto region. They planned to leverage these climate and distribution strengths to establish large-scale farms unique to Aomori.

With the characteristic drive and speed of young entrepreneurs, Sasaki and his team quickly found a plot of land and immediately launched their corporate farming operation. The land they found was on the hills of Koganezaki Cape in Fukaura Town, facing the west coast. They spent their days clearing the land from morning to night while intensively studying cash flow management. Although the instability of farmers’ incomes has always been a challenge, they pressed forward with the goal of resolving this issue and fostering the next generation of young farmers.

From “Profitable Farming” to “Farming That Doesn’t Lose Money”

They cleared the land and grew a variety of vegetables—including potatoes, carrots, melons, and watermelons—which they took to market, but the income didn’t meet their expectations. Compounded by cold snaps and other setbacks, they found themselves in a situation where they could barely make ends meet. Faced with a critical decision, Mr. Sasaki and his team chose to stop shipping their produce to the market. Rather than being at the mercy of market prices, they decided to set their own prices and sell directly to consumers. This was about six years after they had started their business.

One of Japan’s highest-quality seed potatoes

Along with expanding their customer base, they also began producing high-quality seed potatoes. Seed potatoes are potatoes planted for propagation; initially, they had been producing potatoes for processing, but the quality of the seed potatoes they used was poor, and they reportedly couldn’t achieve satisfactory results. That’s when they decided to start growing their own seed potatoes from scratch. The quality of the seed potatoes is crucial for growing high-quality potatoes.

However, it is often said that “growing seed potatoes is even more difficult than growing potatoes,” as disease management is extremely strict, and preventing infection by viruses and bacteria is an absolute requirement. Furthermore, thorough quality control is essential, including selecting a cool location with a low risk of natural disasters and maintaining sufficient distance between different varieties to prevent cross-contamination. Although it was a challenge in a difficult field, they persisted through trial and error, driven by a desire to protect the quality of domestically grown potatoes.

Among their strengths, their vast land proved particularly valuable. It minimizes the risk of cross-contamination even when planting different varieties of seed potatoes and helps prevent crop rotation problems.

Those efforts gradually bore fruit, and today, Koganezaki Farm supplies seed potatoes to potato farmers across the country. Since there are very few farms that cultivate such a wide variety of seed potatoes, it may not be an exaggeration to say that they are supporting Japan’s potato production.

“Koganezaki Farm has become so well-established that some people now associate the name directly with potatoes,” says Masahiro Higashi, the current President and CEO. “However, we also need to understand the characteristics of each variety and have facilities capable of air-drying and cold storage.” He explains that they are continuing to build a system for stable supply by collaborating with corporate representatives and seeking their advice.

A Legacy for Future Generations

“Last year, our cabbage for processing obtained JGAP certification. I believe this will help build trust among both businesses and consumers,” says Kazunori Okura, Senior Managing Director. JGAP is a Japanese agricultural production process management certification system, an acronym for “Japan Good Agricultural Practice.” It is a set of standards designed to reduce risks in agriculture—such as pesticide management, foreign object contamination, and workplace accidents—and to ensure the stable production of safe and reliable agricultural products.

The cabbage the company primarily ships for cut vegetables is the “Okina” variety, which is also used in shredded cabbage commonly found in supermarkets. Its firm leaves retain volume even when finely chopped for dishes like coleslaw, offering a crisp texture and satisfying bite. It is reportedly also used in the gyoza served by nationwide chain restaurants.

“Soil preparation is crucial, but given the size of the fields, it takes a lot of time. With large fields of about 18 hectares each, we have to make numerous passes with the tractor, so I’m considering whether we can automate that process using AI or similar technologies,” says Mr. Okura. While there are cost considerations, he explains that precisely because of the large scale, he wants to actively adopt drones (delivered on May 7, 2026) and machinery to build systems suited to the times and improve the farming environment.

Furthermore, the vast expanse of land offers the advantage of allowing him to experiment with various crop varieties. Although the onions he tried growing last year did not turn out as well as he had hoped, Mr. Okura remains enthusiastic: “There’s always a reason for failure, and I believe that if we can solve it, we’ll succeed. Someday, this might even become a major production area.” It may be this attitude—one of learning from failure rather than fearing it—that has allowed Koganezaki Farm to grow to where it is today.

The Future of Agriculture, as Envisioned by Mr. Sasaki

In fact, Mr. Okura moved here from Ibaraki Prefecture and decided to join the company because he was drawn to Mr. Sasaki’s vision. “I used to work in sales for about 30 years. But I came here because I was attracted to Mr. Sasaki’s character and his passion.”

Mr. Sasaki’s long-standing dedication to securing the future of farming and his tireless efforts to build a bridge to the next generation seem to have touched the hearts of many people. Although Mr. Okura passed away shortly after joining the company, it is said that Mr. Sasaki entrusted him with his vision, hoping he would pass the baton on to the next generation.

“There may still be challenges facing agriculture, such as labor shortages and an aging population. Nevertheless, I want to contribute to the development of local agriculture to help support Japan’s food supply and highlight the importance of domestically grown vegetables.”

The dream of farming that Mr. Sasaki envisioned has been firmly passed down to the current generation. The creation of systems that allow those who support Japan’s food supply to continue their work looks set to expand even further in the future.

The post “Koganezaki Farm”: Looking Toward the Future of Farming and Aiming for Profitable Agriculture / Hirosaki City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

In the gallery of “Mifune Kiln,” nestled in the mountains, two types of pottery crafted by twin brothers are on display: “yakishime,” in which clay and fire create a powerful texture, and “seiji,” which captures light within its layered glazes. The younger brother, Hitomu Tsugane, chose the path of seiji, considered the most difficult form of pottery.

My Father’s Kiln: The Era of Everyday Tableware

The Mifune Kiln is located in a forest nestled in the mountains, a short distance from the city center. About 40 years ago, my father left his corporate job to study the techniques of Takada-yaki—a ceramic tradition with a history of some 400 years in Yatsushiro City, Kumamoto Prefecture—and eventually struck out on his own. That was the beginning of his journey, when he built his kiln here. While Takada-yaki is known for its celadon, my father did not pursue celadon. Instead, he focused on creating everyday tableware, such as ash-glazed pottery—using glazes made from plant ash derived from straw and wood—and powder-coated ware. It was an era when pottery studios were springing up everywhere amid a pottery boom, but my father’s pieces gained popularity, and on weekends, so many people visited the kiln that the parking lot could not accommodate them all.

From Pottery Studio to Artist: The Gamble of Celadon 

Raised in such an environment, Mr. Tsugane studied the fundamentals of ceramics at the nation’s only vocational school specializing in ceramics, located in Arita, Saga Prefecture, and returned to his hometown after graduation. Following graduation, he worked as his father’s right-hand man, producing dozens of tea bowls for daily use and receiving a lump-sum payment once the exhibition was over. It was a “craftsman”-like way of working, producing the required quantities in a predetermined form. However, the times had changed, and it had become difficult to sustain the kiln by simply making everyday tableware in a kiln nestled in the mountains and waiting for customers, as had been done before.

“We can’t go on like this.”

Realizing this, Tsugane began to consider a path focused not on quantity, but on engaging with the works themselves.

“If so, what should I do as an artist?”
When he asked himself this question, he arrived at celadon. It is considered one of the most difficult genres in the world of ceramics, and few potters attempt it. That is precisely why he wanted to master it. The origins of celadon date back to ancient China. When a transparent glaze is applied to the clay body and fired in an oxygen-deprived kiln, the iron in the glaze reacts to produce a blue hue. However, since glazes made from natural raw materials have unstable iron content, the final color varies depending on the clay body and the conditions of the fire. Producing the exact shade of blue one envisions is no easy task. Due to this difficulty, celadon was once said to be a craft that “ruins your livelihood if you try it.” With virtually no formal training available, Tsugane collected books and, supplementing his understanding of difficult concepts with other texts, pursued his research into celadon entirely on his own.
“I started working with celadon because I felt I couldn’t go on as I was, but once I began, I found myself becoming more and more engrossed in it.”

Thick Glaze, Thin Clay—The Art of Crafting Celadon 

At first, things went surprisingly smoothly. I even won an award at a regional exhibition. But when I entered the world of the Japan Craft Association, I was told, “That’s not celadon. Have you ever seen the real thing?”

In the world of the Japan Crafts Association, the evaluation criteria are completely different from those of regional exhibitions. It is a world where “whether it is authentic craftsmanship” is rigorously scrutinized, taking into account not only the quality of the work but also the materials, techniques, and historical context. Tsugane’s understanding was completely overturned. Celadon is not simply about appearing blue or green. Its defining characteristic is the application of an astonishingly thick layer of glaze. While the glaze on ordinary pottery is less than 1 millimeter thick, on celadon it is 2 millimeters or more, and in some cases exceeds 4 millimeters. Within this thick layer of glaze, light reacts with the iron content to produce that deep hue.

Because the glaze is so thick, the underlying vessel must be made extremely thin to achieve the desired elegance. However, the thinner the vessel, the more likely the clay is to collapse or warp during firing.
This is where the process of creating the clay itself becomes essential. Mr. Tsugane tested clays from all over Japan, gradually adjusting factors such as strength to withstand firing, ease of shaping, and stability in the finished piece to develop his own unique blend. Even when he thinks, “This is good,” he feels compelled to make further adjustments. It is a constant cycle.

The lines drawn by time. An expression called “crazing” 

Applying the glaze is just as labor-intensive. Three coats on the inside—drying and building up each layer—and three on the outside. Before firing, the piece looks so far from the finished product that one might doubt it will ever truly become celadon. Moreover, even the slightest change in conditions inside the kiln can easily throw off the color. “Depending on the oxygen levels alone, celadon can even take on a yellowish hue. It’s not about creating the color; rather, it’s about drawing out the coloration of the iron within the thickly applied glaze. That, I believe, is what celadon pottery is all about,” says Mr. Tsugane.

Among Tsugane’s works, the most distinctive are those known as “crazed celadon.” Crazing refers to the fine cracks that form on the surface of a piece as it cools after being removed from the kiln. In celadon, slight differences in the shrinkage rates of the clay and the glaze cause fine cracks to appear in the glaze. Some pieces look as if a thin layer of ice has formed, while others feature red lines created by rubbing vermilion into the cracks. Generally, these cracks are considered to occur by chance. However, Tsugane meticulously adjusts the thickness of the glaze, as well as the firing and cooling conditions, to deliberately shape the pattern of the cracks themselves into an integral part of the work’s expression.
Crackling does not necessarily occur the moment the piece is removed from the kiln. Sometimes, several days or even a month later, it may appear with a sudden “crack.” The red lines that emerge and the transparent lines that appear later—their interplay transforms the vessel’s appearance the more it is used.

What Defines the Quality of Celadon

Since being selected for the first time for the “Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition”—Japan’s premier open-call exhibition organized by the Japan Crafts Association—Tsugane has gained increasing recognition, with his works even being purchased by the Imperial Household Agency. Furthermore, through achievements such as winning the “Japan Crafts Association Award,” he has established a solid reputation in the field of celadon. At the same time, however, he notes that attitudes toward awards have changed significantly over the past decade or so. In the past, winning an award would attract department store events, and customers would visit specifically to see the winning pieces. Now, however, more people choose tableware based on their personal taste, and Tsugane notes, “We are no longer in an era where awards decide everything.”
Nevertheless, what remains unwavering for him is the “dignity” expected of celadon. His goal is to achieve a water-like, clear blue known as “Uka-tensei” (the blue of the sky after rain). To approach this ideal, he studies the lineage of Chinese celadon and travels to China. He believes that understanding the roots provides a solid foundation for new forms of expression.

He uses a gas kiln. His philosophy is not to be particular about the type of kiln, but to choose the flame that best suits the work. For celadon, a strong, stable flame with few impurities is essential.

Furthermore, in recent years, the raw materials themselves are becoming scarce. Fewer people are digging for clay, and he has even been told that the clay he has used for many years “can no longer be obtained.”
Tsugane secures whatever clay he can while searching for new sources, and he meets with suppliers on-site to build relationships. “If there are no longer people digging for clay, we won’t be able to make our work either.”

It is perfected through use

My goal is to become a potter who makes people think, “Tsugane celadon is beautiful. I’d love to own one.” I don’t want to make pieces that are simply displayed in a box; I want to create tableware that is actually used at the dinner table—the kind that makes someone ask, “Whose is that?”

Celadon is understated, and the apprenticeship is long. The yield rate is by no means high. Yet, drawn to the dignity that lies beyond the difficulty, I never gave up. “Even master craftsmen over 70 have mountains of failed pieces in their scrap piles.” When I heard that, I felt the tension melt away.

“I’ll do this for the rest of my life.” I quietly savor those words.

A piece of pottery isn’t finished once it comes out of the kiln; it is gradually completed through use. Tsugane’s work, too, is being built up slowly in that same way.

The post “Mifune Kiln”: Where Light Shines Through in a Mountain Kiln / Mifune Town, Kamimashiki District, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.