When you think of beauty, what comes to mind?
Perhaps intricate design, elaborate decoration, or the masterpiece of a famous artist?
But one hundred years ago, in 1925, a movement emerged in Japan that challenged these assumptions and invited us to rediscover beauty in the everyday. This was the beginning of the Mingei Movement.
In 1925, Japanese philosopher Yanagi Muneyoshi (Yanagi Soetsu in English, hereafter Yanagi), together with ceramic artists such as Kawai Kanjiro and Hamada Shoji, spearheaded what became known as the Mingei Movement. These figures formed the core of the movement, which also drew on the contributions of other contemporaries.
At the time, society regarded beauty as something found in fine art: works made by renowned masters, marked by technical virtuosity, elaborate decoration, and traded at high value. By contrast, the functional, modestly decorated crafts created by ordinary people for daily use were dismissed as “getemono“ literally meaning ‘inferior things’ with little cultural worth.
Yanagi challenged this perception. He argued that within these everyday handcrafts lay a “healthy beauty”, a beauty born from sincerity, functionality, and the absence of pretension. Their simplicity and practicality embodied an aesthetic balance no less profound than that of elite art.
The Mingei Movement sought to recognize and celebrate this hidden beauty in the so-called getemono, to bring it into broader awareness, and to affirm that aesthetic value resides not only in museums and masterpieces but in the fabric of daily life.
What, then, makes an everyday craft a true expression of Mingei? Yanagi pointed to several qualities. These objects were first and foremost practical, created to be used, not simply admired. They were usually made by unnamed artisans rather than celebrated masters, produced in sufficient numbers to meet everyday demand, and offered at a fair price, accessible not only to the wealthy few but to everyone.
They carried the imprint of labor and skill, refined through repetitive and often strenuous work, and they reflected the climate and character of the land through their colors, forms, and materials. Many were the result of cooperative processes, with several hands working together to create what no single artisan could achieve alone. Above all, they were supported by tradition: techniques and wisdom carefully handed down through generations.
For Yanagi, the beauty of these works did not come from individual genius, but from what he called “tarikisei” or ‘forces beyond the self’, such as nature, community, and history. He often spoke of many kinds of beauty in Mingei: the beauty of use, of selflessness, of naturalness. Together, these revealed that true beauty was not confined to art galleries or the names of great masters, but could be found in the sincerity of ordinary life.
A century later, why does Mingei speak so strongly to us once again? In my view, there are three reasons.
1. A Moment to Re-examine Ourselves and Our Lives
Our daily lives are filled with an endless stream of things and information. Social media amplifies this constant flow, leaving little time to pause and ask: What truly matters to me?
Mingei objects, shaped slowly and sincerely by human hands, offer such a pause. Their simplicity and integrity become a mirror, reminding us to look inward and rediscover what gives our lives meaning. Just as people turn to Zen to find clarity in a noisy world, Mingei invites us to reflect through the quiet dignity of ordinary tools.
2. Beyond Black and White Thinking
Yanagi spoke of “funi no bi”, or “non-dual beauty”, which resists dividing the world into simple categories like beautiful and ugly. True beauty, he argued, exists in the wholeness of life, in the connections that bind opposites together.
This way of seeing resonates deeply today. In a world where opinions are often polarized into right and wrong, good and bad, Mingei reminds us that beauty can be found in the spaces between, in the imperfect, ambiguous, and interwoven. It offers a language for appreciating complexity in an age that often demands oversimplification.
3. The Enduring Value of Human Hands
At a time when AI and machines are increasingly shaping our world, the value of handcraft becomes clearer. A handmade bowl or woven textile carries something a machine cannot reproduce: the rhythm of the maker’s breath, the subtle variations of touch, the continuity of tradition. These qualities give us not only an object, but also an experience, one that heals, comforts, and connects us.
In an age moving away from mass production and mass disposal, repairing, restoring, and treasuring objects are becoming new forms of luxury. Mingei embodies this shift, showing that the future of sustainability is inseparable from the enduring creativity of human hands.
This article marks the beginning of our Mingei Series on the Takumi Blog. Future essays will explore:
Mingei began as a call to see beauty in ordinary life. One hundred years later, it invites us again to ask:
What do we call beautiful, and why does it matter now?
