A Lake View kintsugi class shares valuable lesson about the beauty of imperfection

I’ve never been one to excel at visual art-making.

I’m pretty sure my mother built most of a miniature castle I turned in for an elementary school assignment.

In junior high, I enlisted the help of my sister to do a little shading on my sketches for art class.

As an adult at a paint-and-sip party, I’m inclined to focus more on the beverages than the brushstrokes.

So, it wasn’t surprising that I initially raised my hand for the easiest task during a beginner’s kintsugi class at the Japanese Culture Center.

Known as the Japanese art of repairing broken ceramics with lacquer and gold powder, kintsugi is popular in the U.S.

Instructor Mami Takahashi’s classes at the Lake View facility are always packed, and sometimes sold-out. During my session, my classmates and I waited excitedly for our small, broken ceramic plates, organized by difficulty, to repair. Eventually, our dishes would be gleaming with gold lines obscuring the cracks, but we had to learn to be patient and trust the not-so-simple process.

“I’ve had a couple people cry in this workshop,” Takahashi said at the start of the class. “Nowadays, many people think after a two-hour workshop, they should make something beautiful that they can post on Instagram. But this is just your first day of kintsugi. And you can’t design [the plate]. It’s not your choice where the lines go; the break has already determined that for you.”

She also explained that kintsugi, more a craft than an art practice, is part of the philosophy of impermanence in Japanese Buddhism. And that even masters call themselves students because they are always learning.

Perfection is the goal, but “the process of trying is most important,” she said.

Reflecting on her words, I decided to upgrade to a ceramic that was harder to repair.

In the traditional practice of kintsugi, artisans use urushi, a waterproof, adhesive resin produced by Asian lacquer trees. If handled incorrectly, it can cause a rash. So, to prevent any mishaps, Takahashi provided us with ceramic glue and epoxy putty.

We used tape as a makeshift hinge to hold our broken pieces together while we applied the glue. Once the tape was removed, we filled the cracks with the putty. Because my bowl was missing one of its pieces, I had to use the putty to mold a new section of the dish. I definitely need more practice; the result was a bit lumpier than I’d like.

As we worked through those steps, we had to scrape off excess glue and putty, and use sandpaper to smooth the surface.

Authentic kintsugi practitioners combine gold powder with urushi, but we used gold powder mixed with brass and turpentine. After painting over our mended cracks and gaps, we were instructed to let our new creations dry for 10 days. (Note: I had to use soap, water and a small scrub brush to remove the putty from my fingertips at home.)

“I loved the class,” said my fellow student, Eva Niewiadomski, 63, of Edgewater, who visited Japan last year. “I thought the pacing was good, and it was nice to actually see the step-by-step approach.”

Niewiadomski brought along her own colorful box of broken ceramics, thinking she might mend one of them during the class. But Takahashi said it’s important to practice first. After completing the beginner’s workshop, students can sign up for a three- or four-week advanced class. There, they can work on their own pieces and handle authentic urushi.

“Some people mention that it’s very relaxing,” Takahashi said of kintsugi. “In the advanced class, it’s almost like meditation, because it’s a slower process.”

Originally from Tokyo, Takahashi, 53, studied Japanese painting at Joshibi University of Art and Design, also attended by her great grandmother, grandmother and great auntie. She went on to earn her master’s degree in contemporary studio practice from Portland State University.

Now living in Lake View, she teaches multiple arts and crafts courses at the Japanese Culture Center.

“Learning about other cultures opens our minds,” she said. “Widening our perspective is important.”

One of my other classmates, Jeanne Lambin, has also taken calligraphy and Aikido (a Japanese martial art) at the center. When asked what she enjoyed about kintsugi, the 55-year-old Edgewater resident reflected on a couple elements.

“Just to spend time making something and being really bad at it and still doing it,” she said. “And the process of thinking about repair. It’s much easier to break this [dish] than it is to repair it. And then, culturally, especially in the U.S. right now, it feels like everyone wants to break things. I wish we were just taught to repair.”

Lambin also encouraged others to sign up.

“As adults, it’s so hard to try and learn new skills,” she said. “I have had two hours of reflection and discovery and connection, and I have something now that I did and it’s beautiful in its own imperfection.”

To learn more about class offerings at the Japanese Culture Center, 2940 N. Lincoln Ave. Unit 2, (prices for classes vary) visit japaneseculturecenter.com. This story is part of a series highlighting new skills you might want to explore.