We speak to Namika Nakai, a ceramic artist represented by TARO NASU. This year, her work will be shown in one of Tokyo Gendai’s anticipated special exhibit, Tsubomi ‘Flower Bud’ – a showcase focusing on female artists who use traditional Japanese craft techniques, exploring the rise of artisanal methods within the contemporary art scene.
Here, she talks about the power of sharing small ideas, the challenge of finding the right space to create, and how studying psychology has shaped her approach to ceramics.
Those random thoughts or things I’ve found interesting – might not seem immediately useful at first glance– may, perhaps, be something someone else can relate to.
What’s the most enjoyable aspect of being an artist?
Those random thoughts or things I’ve found interesting – might not seem immediately useful at first glance– may, perhaps, be something someone else can relate to.
For example, ceramics can become warped, cracked, or have the glaze peel off. To prevent that from happening, we study the ceramic techniques that have developed as an industry. However, when I find those distortions, cracks, or peeling glaze interesting or beautiful, I feel that it’s difficult to fully process that realization within the idea of utsuwa—ceramics meant to have a practical use. Lately, I’ve come to feel that the most fascinating moments are when I incorporate those realizations into my work, and when something is conveyed to someone else even without words.
What’s the most challenging part of being an artist?
Right now, I’m in the middle of setting up a new studio. I’ve been feeling that creating a “base” for my work and building an environment for making art and keeping my practice going, is something that deeply affects my life itself, in which I feel challenging.
Since graduating from high school, I’ve lived a life where I’ve moved places every few years, so this is my first time actually “creating a base” for myself. That’s why there have been many moments where I’ve had to make big decisions that make me reconsider my entire life, and I’ve felt a lot of anxiety, too.
But when I think about it carefully, I feel that “putting down roots in one place and growing a strong trunk like a tree” and “freely choosing where to live my life” are things that, with some creativity, can coexist in this day and age. Because of that, I’ve come to feel that setting up a studio itself feels like creating a work of art.
17 x 28 x 11.5 cm © Namika Nakai, Courtesy of TARO NASU
Can you tell us about an aspect of your practice that you hold sacred?
The important thing for me is to always ask myself why I chose it or why I like it.
It’s about always asking myself, “Why did I choose this?” and “Why do I like this?”
When creating, there are many choices I have to make, and each time, I make sure to ask myself, “Why did I make this choice?” For example, why am I drawn to matte textures or rough, grainy surfaces? In my own work, there are layered traces left from hand-building, and I wonder why I find those marks beautiful.
Lately, I often trace back my childhood memories as I reflect on why I feel the way I do. Starting from something that catches my inner “sensor,” I expand my thinking and discover new things. I find that process both fascinating and important.
Throughout the whole process – from selecting the clay and glaze to exhibiting at galleries – what is the most joyful moment for you?
When I’m completely absorbed in making things, it can feel as tough as running a marathon, but even so, once I’m finished, I immediately want to start creating again. So I guess the time I spend making art is probably the most joyful moment for me.
I also feel joy during exhibitions. In my studio, I keep producing new pieces one after another, and the space becomes so crowded that the studio itself gets messy, and I sometimes worry about the works. In that kind of environment, I prepare for exhibitions while imagining in my head how to arrange each piece in the exhibition space.
An exhibition is the moment when those mental images actually “take shape,” and that makes me really happy. On the first day of the exhibition, I’m often more filled with anxiety or relief than with joy, but as the end approaches, I often find myself thinking, “I’m glad I did it, and I want to do it again.”
How can we know if the blue I’m seeing is the same blue that you’re seeing?
You also studied psychology. Is there anything you learned in psychology that feels useful now?
I feel that my background in studying psychology is deeply connected to the way I create my work today.
I was taught that psychology is a field that brings to light things that certainly exist but without clear boundaries. This sense of giving shape to things that can’t be seen feels like something fundamental to my artistic practice.
Recently, I’ve been creating pieces while making references to the thought experiment known as “Mary’s Room.” I actually only learned about this thought experiment recently, but when I look back, I remember having a conversation with my mother when I was in the lower grades of elementary school. I asked, “How can we know if the blue I’m seeing is the same blue that you’re seeing?” I remember how much I enjoyed having those “why is that?” conversations with my mother.
My classmates weren’t interested in talking about such things, but I think I’ve always loved pondering those kinds of questions. It didn’t help me much on school tests, but for me, it was something very important. Then, when I first encountered art in Denmark, I took a class called “Experimental Glass Work,” and for the first time, I felt a connection to the idea of “expressing”. I think that’s what has led me to where I am today.
©Namika Nakai, Courtesy of TARO NASU, Photo by Keizo Kioku
You’ve lived in very different countries – your native Japan (Hokkaido), Australia, and Denmark – each with completely different languages and cultures. What did you find to be the most interesting similarities or differences?
The other day, when I was staying in New Zealand, I had the chance to talk with people there about education. I found it interesting to hear that awareness and understanding of dyslexia—a condition that hinders reading and writing—are spreading.
For example, I heard that in history tests, even if a student understands the content but can’t spell proper names of events or people correctly, they might still receive partial credit or be given specially designed tests. I’ve heard similar stories in Australia as well. If there’s a world where people aren’t evaluated properly, or lose their confidence, simply because they can’t write words accurately, then I think learning about these differences amongst countries can prompt us to reconsider what we should truly value. I feel that’s one of the fascinating things about getting to know different cultures.
On the other hand, I feel that cultural or linguistic differences amongst countries aren’t as clear as they used to be for me. When you belong to an organization, like a company or a school, you may encounter rules shaped by cultural and historical backgrounds, or come across things that are different from your own experiences. But in the short stays I often do, it’s actually the encounters with individuals that leave the strongest impression on me. It feels less like differences between cultures and more like differences between individuals.
Whether it’s in France or Denmark, even when cultural backgrounds differ, or even if we’re speaking in broken language, if we’re of a similar generation or we just click, our worries and thoughts about society can be surprisingly similar. I think the fact that everyone now has access to the same information through the internet plays a big part in that. In fact, I sometimes notice bigger differences in values and concerns about society when I’m talking with my own grandmother or father. I find that contrast very interesting.
Do you have a favorite place in Japan?
Lately, I’ve really fallen in love with the area around Lake Toya, and I visit once or twice a year. Of course, the lake itself is beautiful, but there are so many other things I love, like the rich nature and the incredibly delicious food. On top of that, this region has also been designated as a global geopark.
In 2000, Mount Usu erupted, but fortunately, there were no fatalities. Places like the kindergarten that was damaged at the time, and roads with concrete that buckled upward, have been preserved just as they were and are maintained as disaster heritage sites, with walking paths set up around them. Around Lake Toya, I’ve heard that with every eruption, the forests are lost and then regenerate again, creating unique vegetation over time. Even in places damaged by the 2000 eruption, plants are now sprouting again, filling in the gaps around collapsed buildings.
I feel deeply moved and inspired by the power of the earth, the regenerative force of nature, and the efforts of so many people who have chosen to coexist with nature and continue working to protect the environment. Whenever I can take a long break, I try to stay there as long as possible to fully enjoy the natural surroundings. I really love spending time there talking with different people, and the Nishi-Iburi region has become a very special place for me.
<Thank you very much! We look forward to seeing your work in September.>
Portrait photo courtesy of Masami Ono, Public Record
Namika Nakai
Born in Hokkaido, Japan in 1993. Graduated from Hokkaido University of Education in 2016. Inspired by her experiences in Australia and Denmark, she entered the Tajimi City Pottery Design and Technical Center (Ishoken) and graduated in 2019. In 2022, she completed a course at the Kanazawa Utatsuyama Kogei Kobo. She is known for her unique technique of molding stretched clay by hand and rolling it into ribbons. Interested in the creation process itself within ceramic art, she uses clay and glaze, which have different melting points, to create powerful, delicate, and beautiful tensions in space focusing on reinterpretation. Major exhibitions include: “Evidence of Time, Record of Action” PUBLIC RECORD, Auckland (2025), “Diving into sea” THE BRIDGE – Le Point de Ciel, Osaka, “Float” TARO NASU, Tokyo (2023), “5th Triennale of Kogei in Kanazawa—Crafts Visions”, “The 78th Kanazawa City Craft Exhibition” (2022), “The 9th Kikuchi Biennale”, “Kasama Ceramic Award” (2021) , and more.
