EVERYDAY OBJETS D’ART

By SHAGORIKA EASWAR

The objects that fill our everyday lives are our constant companions. As such, they should be made with care and built to last, treated with respect and even affection, wrote Japanese philosopher and folk-art pioneer Soetsu Yanagi.

They should be things of beauty.

Soetsu Yanagi (1889-1961) was a philosopher, art historian, aesthete and poet. He evolved a theory of why certain objects made by unknown craftsmen were so beautiful. The founder of the Japanese folk crafts movement, Yanagi coined the term mingei – a combination of min, meaning the masses and gei, meaning craft, to describe these objects.

Literally, the word means the ‘crafts of the people’. It is meant to stand in contrast to aristocratic fine arts, and refers to objects used by ordinary people in their daily lives. These objects include household effects such as clothing, furniture, eating utensils and stationery... In this beauty there is neither inordinate colouring nor notable decoration. The shape of the objects is simplicity itself... There is not the least effort to surprise or astonish, no straining to overachieve or striving for a particular form; they are simply quiet, calm, and tranquil.

I think of the barnis or large jars in my nani’s (maternal grandmother’s) home. Filled to the brim with spicy pickles – various kinds of mango, stuffed red chillies, lime – they sat sunning on the terrace. Made in industrial quantities, enough to feed a large joint family and to send home with visiting daughters. My mother always returned with smaller jars filled with these pickles that we enjoyed until we returned for another visit – and a refill.

These were large ceramic pots in cream or ecru with a honey-coloured glaze around the top and on the lid. They were unembellished and utilitarian, but I was drawn to their simple elegance nonetheless. Thus, I was delighted to discover similar ones used by my mother-in-law, two of which were passed down to me many years later.

I didn’t inherit the pickle-making gene and wouldn’t know what to do with such vast quantities anyway, but the jars’ beauty continues to bring me joy. One is filled with Chinese lanterns and greets friends as they enter our home. Both the Chinese lanterns and the barni never fail to elicit admiration and questions from first-time visitors. The other, smaller barni has been repurposed as a cookie jar and occupies pride of place on my shelf.

They may not be everyday objects in this day and age, but they were once upon a time and are redolent with happy memories.

Yanagi describes simple objects he used or came across with much affection. A simple lacquer tray, a stoneware jar, a fabric called bashofu used to make cool summer clothing, a tea bowl... they all make the honour roll.

What I would like to do, if it were at all possible, would be to visit abandoned houses in the countryside. Salvage their dust-covered tea bowls, and prepare a fresh serving of tea. Doing that, I could return to the roots of tea and commune with the earliest tea masters to my heart’s content.

As I read that, I yearn to return to the railway stations of old where one was served tea in clay mugs called kulhads. Or slake my thirst with water cooled in clay matkas or surahis, and once again inhale the fragrance of damp earth.

The essays are a heartfelt call for us to deepen our relationship with the objects that surround us.