REVIEW: Urushi Now - Contemporary Japanese Lacquer at the V&A Museum, London
written by Alex Whittaker, June 2025
Urushi Now: Contemporary Japanese Lacquer at the V&A London is a survey of decorative, functional objects and contemporary sculpture, all made within the lacquerware tradition of Japan. The show includes various historical examples which help to inform and contextualize the more recent works, yet the focus here is on living, breathing artists and craftspeople; those who are continuing to transmit the ancient craft of lacquerware production and project it into a new future. The exhibition has been curated by Dr. Masami Yamada from the Asia Department at the V&A, and runs until Friday 30th April, 2027. Visiting will reward those seeking out a specialist display of this unique material, as well as those encountering it while passing through the Toshiba Gallery for their own reasons.
Inrō (tiered container) 1800-75, Japan. Black urushi with mother-of-pearl and gold foil inlay and red, gold and silver maki-e.
Lacquer, it is useful to note here for those not familiar with its origins, is extracted from a tree in the form of sap, notably the species Toxicodendron vernicifluum which also known as the ‘lacquer tree’. The sap is refined through a process of filtering to remove any impurities. It is then dehydrated to reduce moisture content and refined again by kneaded to control the viscosity. A final stage of ‘resting’ to settle the material and allow any air bubbles to rise out of the liquid is vital to produce a highly controlled natural resin mixture – or urushi (漆) as it has become typically known in Japan. While the term urushi originates from a native Japanese word, in its written form as Chinese character it is pronounced qī, meaning simply ‘lacquer’ or ‘lacquer tree sap’. It is usually found in either black or deep red colours in its natural form, but pigment can be added – a practice more commonly found in contemporary urushi. This organic, highly pigmented material is not to be confused with modern synthetic versions of lacquer, the difference between which can easily be discerned by smell alone.
Tea Caddy circa 1977, Kuroda Tatsuaki (1904-82), Kyoto, Abalone shell and urushi on wood core
Lacquerware has a long and distinct history in both China and Japan. The earliest examples from China date back to the neolithic period and the cultures of the Hemudu (c. 5000 – 4500 BCE) and Liangzhu (c. 3300 – 2300 BCE). These fragmentary, early finds of simple vessels such as bowls, cups and ladles precede an extensive history of highly skilled craft. Lacquerware eventually became associated with elite tastes and the imperial courts and what once began as a practical solution and protective coating, developed into intricately carved and decorated art objects, ranging from bowls and writing boxes, through to screens, furniture and ceremonial items.
Scroll box, 1650-1700, Japan, Black urushi with gold hiramaki-e (low relief maki-e) on wood core.
Given the long and independent history of the craft in Japan, it was with a sense of excitement that I approached the urushi exhibition at the Victoria and Albert Museum. I knew that I shared Dr. Masami Yamada’s enthusiasm for curating contemporary objects in direct relationship with their historical precedents. An act that makes total sense in the broader museum context of the Toshiba Gallery. At the time of visiting, I was not aware who had curated the exhibition, but there I discovered a strong suggestion in the form of exhibit No.1 in the maki-e themed vitrine; an un authored scroll box dated to between 1650-1700. Made from black urushi with gold hiramaki-e (low relief maki-e) on a wooden core, I had been fortunate enough to handle this object three years prior at a session hosted at the museum. I also recalled it being described by Dr. Yamada as one of her favourite objects in the Asian collection. However, it also remained in my mind as remarkable for the fact that its entire surface is covered in a repeat wave pattern, immaculate and uniform in its rendering. The design would have required an extremely high level of technical skill to keep the individual lines of the waves distinct from one another. One false micromovement of the maker’s hand might have resulted in disaster. This early example of Maki-e technique (literally meaning ‘sprinkled picture’) later became a central type of urushi art once cultivated by patronage and the elite. Formed by sprinkling various metal powders - commonly gold - into the wet surface of the lacquer, motifs and designs often reflected the period of their making, referencing literature, stories and responding to ever changing aesthetic trends.
In direct juxtaposition to the scroll box is Massive Flower (2012, Tokyo), a contemporary maki-e box by the artist Murose Kazumi. While the exhibition vitrine attempts to portray a chronology of development in the genre of maki-e, scroll box here is no less impressive than Massive Flower, and it is compelling to think of them as materially related, as well as formally in the sense that pattern is endlessly repeated to the point of abstraction. As with many of the refined maki-e pieces, lustrous visual sensation becomes as important as any intended figurative description. One can’t help but be reminded here of Takashi Murakami’s kitsch, end-game concept he calls superflat, whereby all, colour, line and form are pressed towards the surface of the image, merging traditional Japanese ‘flat’ painting with more contemporary pop culture. However, Massive Flower is an extremely accomplished example of contemporary maki-e lacquerware, demonstrating why Murose Kazumi is considered a ‘Living National Treasure’ – a designation which began in the 1950s to support intangible cultural heritage and the preservation of traditional craft skills in Japan. The exhibition display here is particularly successful and suggests that as much as the history of craft practice can shed light on the contemporary world, so too can the present help us to understand the past with fresh eyes.
Massive Flower, box, 2012, Tokyo, Japan - Murose Kazumi
Further bridging the worlds of classical and contemporary lacquerware and, arguably the standout artwork in the adjacent ‘shell inlay’ themed display is a piece by the maker Terumasa Ikeda titled Order, 2024. Made in Kanazawa, a regional centre known for lacquerware, the work brilliantly blends contemporary iconography and techniques with a medium which is steeped in rich cultural history.
Order, 2024 Kanazawa, Ishikawa Prefecture, Black urushi with abalone and great green turban shell inlay on wood core - Ikeda Terumasa (born 1987)
Shell inlay, or Mother-of-pearl as it is often called, is the inner layer of mollusc or abalone shell. The shells have been used as inlay material to lacquerware in Japan since the technique was introduced during the 6th century from China. Now commonly practiced and termed raden, shell inlay developed in tandem with the ‘sprinkled picture’ or maki-e technique and the two were often employed together as localised methods which later became regional styles.
Like many of Ikeda-san’s works, the lacquer finish here is jet black and highly polished, recalling in some way the screens or surfaces of our technological devices – the now commonly carried ‘containers’ of modern-day society. Fragmenting across the surface of these containers are hundreds, if not thousands of numerical digits, stretched out in a linear fashion, almost as if arranged by machine. These digits, each laser cut from iridescent abalone shell or mother of pearl, shimmer and catch the light in an otherworldly fashion. So much so, that one is simultaneously reminded of Aldous Huxley’s notion of the ‘antipodes of the mind’ and the iconographic, digital rain of the popular film, The Matrix. The reference to digital rain is hard to ‘unsee’ and the almost holographic quality of the abalone shell under museum lighting brilliantly recalls the sensation of a pixelated screen, with the form of the numbers appearing mysteriously from the black mirror-like surface. Rather than honing the object to a level of complete perfection, the artist has chosen to include abrupt ‘errors’ or disruptions to the otherwise perfect surface. A technique known as kawarinuri, the disruption serves to break up or artificially weather the surface, creating the impression of an unwritten future event which has perhaps since past. There is a feeling of happenstance or beauty in imperfection here, a concept with widely permeates various other Japanese craft traditions.
Other highlights of the exhibition include a small vitrine at the entrance dedicated to four artists who have been designated Living National Treasures for kyūshitsu or urushi application. The designation of the act of lacquer application is revealing in the sense that it emphasises that the process itself is of value, as much as the material artefacts that remain. After all, without the performative act of making, there is no opportunity for the transmission of these valuable craft skills. The status of Living National Treasure for kyūshitsu requires mastery of urushi application, along with the creation of the underlying base materials. There is a sense then, of the baton being passed to the next generation with the transmission of the skills required to successfully execute the craft, which leads us into questions of how heritage truly functions; is it something which is bestowed upon us, or rather are we active participants in it; heritage as performance through the act learning of traditional craft practices ?
On a final note, I have chosen to highlight the work of one further artist. Mine Tanigawa, who at 36 years of age has found a voice entirely of her own within this historical medium, which has been curated here as ‘sculpture’. These contemporary lacquerware artists have been deemed to be pushing the limits of the material, into a realm of abstraction where the function of the object is less important than the formal qualities of the piece itself. In Urushi Now, this curatorial conceit reveals some interesting results, as well as the restrictions of categorising craft objects in this way. Indeed, part of the success of many of the works in the show is precisely how they intersect with historical precedents, rather than abandoning references to history entirely. There are very real formal limitations to the construction of large-scale objects using the medium of lacquer, but this is where the work of Mina Tanigawa excels. Where we might expect to see an entirely abstract, functionless form, a reference to the very act of making reveals itself.
flowing_dg/b/o, lacquer wall hanging, 2024, Kyoto, Japan -Tanigawa Mine (b.1988)
Made from spontaneous marks laid out on paper using a brush and ink, Mine selects, edits and then enlarges these marks to create a support structure for the application of lacquer. Due to its scale and nature, this support is extremely brittle and fragile, requiring large amounts of sensitive preparation and reinforcement before it can be worked upon. Once complete, various pigments are tested and adjusted. A balancing act entirely of its own, due to the unstable nature of the lacquer and the variations in tone that occur throughout the drying process. The results speak of an effortless, spontaneous beauty that belies the labour-intensive process of making. Where we might expect to see a static, functional object we see fluid forms that shimmer and undulate through space. Where we might expect to see an impeccably crafted surface, instead we experience an image that celebrates this wonderfully diverse and rich medium, yet never really breaks from it entirely. Perhaps this is the greatest success of Urish Now more generally, that the cumulative skill of the makers both young and old, push this remarkable medium in new and exciting directions, yet never really abandon reflecting upon it entirely. It is a simultaneous acknowledgment of and break with tradition itself.