HORI Takaharu (ceramic artist)

Written by TOMIKAWA Kyōko

 

Latest work (June 2025): “ELEC Actuate Mantis” (W500×D580×H430mm) in white porcelain

 

 

The first time I encountered a work by HORI Takaharu (堀 貴春) was at the Tableware Festival 2019. His debut-exhibition piece, “Shiromushi (白蟲)”, which won the Grand Prize, instantly evoked the image of a bug—the handles, spout and feet of the teapot and teacups, and the contrast between rough and smooth textures made it intuitively clear. The combination of a bug motif on tableware left a vivid impression on me.

Three years later, in 2022, I came across another of his works at the 16th Ceramic Art Grand Prize Exhibition in the Paramita Museum, Mie Prefecture—this time, it was a praying mantis. Again, it was pure white with flawlessly smooth skin. The way the mantis appeared to quietly rise was beautifully rendered. But this mantis was an imposing nearly one-meter-tall sculpture. I could not help but wonder: How does one make such an enormous piece? How many parts are there? How is it fired? And how can those slender legs possibly support the entire weight?

 

With its slender legs supporting the weight of its body and head, the mantis stands 95 cm tall. The number of individual parts exceeds 400. “A mantis appears to rise lightly due in part to how it interacts with gravity. If the legs aren’t thin, we can’t feel that quick, agile motion.” Although slightly abstract, the work is instantly recognisable as a mantis.

 

 

To find the answers to those questions, in 2025 I visited HORI Takaharu’s atelier in Kanazawa, Ishikawa Prefecture.
Inside his atelier stood a special electric kiln capable of both oxidation and reduction firing, a pottery wheel turntable for hand-sculpting moulds, and drawers in a large desk neatly filled with self-customised hard metal ‘kanna’ (Japanese trimming tool), grinders, needles, and sticks. Insect sculptures and tableware were in the process of drying on shelves. At first glance it looked like a white world. Amidst it all, HORI, dressed in a white lab coat, was immersed in creation.

 

The atelier, located in the nature-rich surroundings of Kanazawa, is a world of pure white throughout.

 

 

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Click to skip the production process and continue reading the article >>

 

 

 

 

The white porcelain works of HORI Takaharu are created using a method called slip casting.
Beginning with the creation of male and female plaster moulds for casting, prototypes are first shaped by hand. Since a single work may consist of several dozen parts, many original prototypes are needed. Each prototype is half embedded in oil clay, a wall is built around it, then plaster poured in. After about two days of natural drying, the hardened plaster mould is carved with kanna trimming tools to bring out crisp and sharp lines. Using the same procedure, the part that had been embedded in oil clay is also cast in plaster.

To prevent any unevenness on the surface of the finished mould, it is crucial that bubbles be completely removed from the plaster. When creating large works, specialised machines are sometimes used to stir the plaster and remove air blisters.

Next, the completed male and female plaster moulds are bundled together and a liquid clay called slip—made by dissolving “water glass” in porcelain clay—is poured in. As the plaster absorbs water from the slip, it is topped off repeatedly until the cast is completely full.
After natural drying, the plaster mould is removed. While the clay is still relatively soft, seams and burrs are trimmed off with kanna tools, and the shape is further refined using a water-dampened brush.

 

 

 

The work is then bisque-fired at 900℃.
Since the piece naturally shrinks during firing, it is laid on a clay plate inside the kiln, and the delicate legs are supported by clay pillars to prevent them from collapsing—this is a unique feature of HORI’s process.
After unglazed firing, the pieces become about as hard as a brick. They are then trimmed again to sharpen the edges even more precisely.
After this, the parts are assembled and glazed.
The hallmark of white porcelain lies in its pure white body, finished thinly and gracefully. When fired again, the glaze melts completely, becoming fully translucent and resulting in an elegant finish.
The specific white porcelain that HORI seeks is a type called yingqing porcelain (bluish white ware, seihakuji in Japanese), which is fired with a reduced air supply, and a glaze that contains a trace amount of iron. This technique gives the surface a subtle bluish hue.
To enable “strong reduction firing”, the temperature inside the hybrid kiln that HORI uses is raised to 1270℃ over a 12 hour period, and then a gas burner is inserted. After firing, the kiln is cooled slowly over 24 to 25 hours before the work is finally removed.

 

1. The piece is fired in a hybrid kiln.  2. Supports are placed to prevent the insect legs from collapsing.  3. Delicate parts are supported by these small legs to prevent collapse during firing.

 

 

Although slip casting allows for replication, much of the process lies in the mould-making itself.
And because HORI, an insect enthusiast since childhood, insists on capturing the lifelike postures of insects in his works, the moulds are incredibly complex.
“I prioritise the beauty of the form over how easy the mould is to remove,” he says.
His deliberate choice to work with complicated moulds is also a reflection of his deep affection for insects—the very creatures that inspire his art.

  

Slip casting requires both male and female moulds. This is how many moulds are needed to create just one artwork. As different sized moulds dry at different speeds, they must be carefully monitored at all times.

 

 

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“I definitely wanted to become an artist.”
HORI had already made up his mind when he was a child.
With a love for making things, he attended an arts high school in his hometown in Chiba Prefecture, and then enrolled into the Aichi Prefectural Seto Pottery Senior High School. Throughout that time, he consistently made vessels using the potter’s wheel.
But at the age of 19, he encountered a major turning point at the Crafts Fair Matsumoto in Nagano Prefecture.
“There were so many pots just like the ones I was making. And they were being sold for around 3,000 yen. Many people were already making a living doing this. That’s when I realised—if I kept on doing this, I’d be nothing more than a copycat.”
Yet he still wanted to become an artist.
What should he create?
“I asked myself, what do I truly want to make? What could I continue making for the rest of my life and still enjoy? That’s when I remembered my love of insects.”
From a young age, he had been obsessed with bugs. He wondered if he could somehow incorporate them into his ceramic vessels.
He first tried using pottery clay to shape an insect—but it did not produce the lines he was aiming for.
“That’s when I realised for the first time that what I loved about insects was their sharp forms—the beauty of their edges and armour”.

  

The body of the “Mantis”. Its form evokes armour or cutting-edge gear. Smooth curves contrast sharply with pointed components.

 

 

He found that the sharp lines of insect exoskeletons could not be properly expressed with ceramic clay. With porcelain, however, it might be possible he thought. Especially with pure white porcelain—its shadows would be well defined, and the lines would surely stand out. However, hand-building resulted in excessive thickness or warping during firing. Therefore, he decided that slip casting would be the way to go.
Just three months before graduating from Seto Pottery Senior High School, HORI’s path suddenly came into focus.
“I felt a tinge of anxiety about switching to an entirely different style of expression, but I thought—this is something I could keep creating for the rest of my life without ever getting bored.”

 

1&2. Figurines of Insects are casually displayed in the atelier.  3. Only three true insect specimens are framed. On the right an elephant beetle, and on the left, a golden stag beetle (Allotopus moellenkampi babai). 

 

 

That is when HORI began learning in a way that truly reflects his Generation Z sensibilities.
“I learned almost everything by myself. I watched videos and tutorials on social media and investigated tirelessly.”
Because slip-cast porcelain is mostly used for industrial products, detailed information on how to make complex moulds was not widely available. HORI spent his days researching and experimenting by himself.
Amid all this, a new challenge came his way: applying to the Kanazawa Utatsuyama Kogei Kobo in Ishikawa Prefecture, a place that aspiring craft artists all over Japan dream to enter.
“When I graduated from technical school, I knew that just saying ‘I want to be an artist’ wouldn’t get me anywhere. To become a professional, you need to understand not only how to create works, but how to sell them—how the system works. That’s when one of my teachers told me about the Utatsuyama workshop.”

There, only a few individuals are selected each year as technical trainees in fields such as ceramics, urushi-lacquering, dyeing, metalwork, and glass. Many of them already earn a living with their craft.
“I realised that if I joined the workshop, I could focus on the kind of creative work I really wanted to do, while also learning directly from successful seniors in the field. I intensely wanted to enter the Utatsuyama Kobo, so I applied.”

The year HORI applied to the ceramics division, there was only one available spot. Out of many applicants, just three made it to the final round.

“I brought both my slip-cast porcelain insect teapot and a tea bowl made on a potter’s wheel using the shinogi technique, which involves carving parallel grooves. They were completely different works—the bowl was simple and easy to use, while the teapot had a unique form but was harder to use. I told the interviewers that I wanted to create pieces that combined both qualities—distinctive shapes that were also functional.”

The mentors at Utatsuyama recognised his talent.
“After joining the workshop, I worked nearly every day from 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. I didn’t want to waste a single minute, so I kept experimenting day after day, from my first year until the third. My seniors saw how serious I was and introduced me to a gallery.”
His debut came through the gallery Enishira (縁煌) in Kanazawa. From there, HORI’s work gradually began to spread. A fan who had supported him from early on encouraged him to submit his work to the Tableware Festival 2019.
Since then, his work has expanded—from functional vessels to fully-fledged art pieces.

 

HORI made his debut at the “Tableware Festival 2019”, and became the youngest recipient of both the “Tableware Grand Prize” and the “Grand Prize / Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry Award”. His award-winning piece, Shiromushi (白蟲), gained attention for its innovative form—beautiful and humorous in design, practical to use.

 

 

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A consistent theme of HORI’s work is not to faithfully replicate actual insects, but rather to create insects of the future.
“If the Earth were to become a desert, or transform into a wetland, today’s 10cm mantis might grow to a massive size. Naturally, the shape of its legs or antennae would evolve as well. When I imagine ‘insects of the future’, I picture the environments they would live in as well.”
The absence of colour and ornamentation—leaving pieces pure white—is also key to expressing his futuristic insects.
“If I made the mantis green, for example, it would imply that it lives in a green environment. But I want to create a ‘future mantis’ that leaves room for the viewer’s imagination.”

 

The piece Stag Beetle, nominated for the 2022 Paramita Grand Prize, measures a striking 110 cm in length. “I made it abnormally large to stimulate people’s imaginations,” HORI explains. The legs are sculpted “like solid masses of clay” to ensure structural strength, while the body is hollowed out to a thickness of just 3 to 5 mm to keep it as light as possible.

 

 

The latest work (June 2025), “OS2 Actuate Stag Beetle” (W480 × D1120 × H260 mm), crafted in white porcelain. While it shares the same stag beetle motif as the piece nominated for the Paramita Grand Prize, it reveals a distinct evolution in form.

 

 

From the Transformer Series, which HORI has been working on over the past year or two: Ichirin-zashi Tsukuri-mushi. When the beetle’s legs are folded, it transforms into a single-flower vase (ichirin-zashi). This piece fuses the functionality of a vessel with the intriguing form of an insect and the refined beauty of white porcelain.

 

 

Holding the Ichirin-zashi Tsukuri-mushi, its scale becomes clear.

 

 

HORI is currently working on his “Transformer Series”, based on the idea of future insect forms.
“Even if humanity were to go extinct, the vases and tea bowls we created would remain. If insects were to mimic those remnants, what would they look like? That’s the concept.”
One of his vases has legs, which when spread, becomes an insect; when closed, it is simply a flower vase. These works imagine insects camouflaging themselves as porcelain vessels.
“I’ve always wanted to make insect sculptures that move. At the same time, I’ve been searching for the deeper meaning behind creating insects in ceramic form.”
That is why he is meticulous about capturing insect realism.
“Instead of a smooth, long, elegant neck you often see on bud vases, I might add the edge of a Japanese rhinoceros beetle’s head horn, or make the mouth of the vase slightly oval instead of perfectly round. These are things only someone who truly understands living insects could do—adding just the right amount of ‘insect reality’.”
HORI believes there is always a reason behind the forms of insects. The structure, size, and balance of each body part evolved naturally in response to each insect’s environment. That logic must be reflected in his work.
“It might be a flower vase, but I want to create it within the anatomical logic of an insect.”
His vases are a remarkable fusion of functionality as ceramic objects and the imagined forms of future insects.

 

 

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1. An abstract work in progress at the time of the interview: “Rebooting-000” (inspired by the back of a stag beetle). The form is a distilled interpretation of the insect, created through subtraction. “If I were to choose a praying mantis as a motif, it might be just the sickle-like arms,” HORI says. “This abstract series is about identifying the one form I most want to preserve from each insect.”  2. HORI, fully immersed in his work.  3. After shaping with a hard metal kanna (Japanese trimming tool), the surface is further refined using progressively finer grits of abrasive paper.

 

 

Alongside his figurative works inspired by insects, HORI also creates abstract pieces that aim to ‘convey beautiful forms rather than fine techniques’.
“It’s true that insects are the core of my work, but when I focus too much on figurative sculptures, I start thinking things like, ‘The antennae should be thinner,’ or ‘The spines on the legs should be sharper’, and the level of intricacy keeps escalating. But that can end up being just a ‘Wow, that’s detailed and impressive’. What I truly want to share is not the intricacy of my technique, but the beautiful forms I discover in insects, and the sense of empathy those forms can evoke.”
Instead of adding more detail, HORI now chooses to subtract. By thoroughly eliminating specific details, a form emerges that captures the essence of the subject. And in that form, there is a palpable vitality.

 

 

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1. A custom-made terrarium designed to allow the chameleon to live more naturally. Compared to commercial enclosures, the chameleon began to exhibit more natural movements.  2. A larva of the Giant Dead Leaf Mantis (Deroplatys truncata), born through crossing.

 

 

At HORI’s home, there is a room dedicated to his insects. The temperature and humidity are carefully controlled, and in this space, he raises chameleons, mantises, frogs, crickets, and more. He has been keeping insects since childhood, and observing their growth and movements forms the foundation of his creative process.
“My knowledge, my passion, and my love for insects—those are things I won’t lose to anyone,” he says confidently.
Insects remain the unshakable axis of HORI’s work.
As he moves fluidly between the figurative and the abstract, it seems he is in pursuit of the “pure form” of insects.
In Aristotelian philosophy, the concept of pure form—“actus purus”—refers to the unmoved mover, something beyond all things in the ever-changing world, and the ultimate purpose of existence.
Perhaps the “insects of the future” that HORI creates are, in fact, his interpretation of that pure form of insect life.

 

HORI, who is left-handed, covered in white porcelain dust as he polishes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LINK:


Homepage:
utsuwamushi.com

 

 

Photographed by TODOROKI Azusa (轟 あずさ)

 

 

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