Curator's Notes

There is something wonderfully deceptive about shuki.

At first glance, these are small objects. A guinomi held in the palm of the hand. A tokkuri resting quietly on a table. Yet their presence far exceeds their physical size. They are, in many ways, the precious jewels of the ceramic world—small but mighty, carrying within them the full expression of an artist's creativity, philosophy and relationship with the kiln.

Some of the most rewarding collecting journeys I have witnessed, and experienced myself, have begun with shuki. There is something uniquely compelling about objects that sit at the intersection of function and artistry. They are made to be used, but their beauty ensures they are treasured. They move effortlessly between the everyday and the exceptional.

For me, the true magic of shuki begins when they are brought into life.

I would encourage every collector not simply to admire these vessels from a shelf, but to use them. The gentle tok tok of sake being poured from a tokkuri, the warmth of the vessel in the hand, the way nihonshu becomes almost a lens through which the interior of a cup is revealed—all of these moments allow the character of the piece to emerge. The vessel changes. The experience changes. The relationship between maker, object and user becomes complete.

At home, I often find myself taking time to carefully choose a pourer and cup before enjoying a drink. It is a small ritual, but a meaningful one. The selection itself becomes part of the pleasure—the anticipation, the consideration, the appreciation of why one piece feels right for that particular moment. After use, the vessel returns to its place, once again becoming an artwork, carrying with it the memory of the experience.

This is why shuki continues to fascinate me.

This year's Summer Shuki is not simply a celebration of ceramic excellence. It is also a celebration of friendship, generosity and hospitality. Behind every piece in this exhibition is a relationship: with the artist who created it, with the place where it was made, with the traditions that shaped it, and with the people who welcomed us into their worlds. Every visit to Japan, every studio conversation and every shared moment over a cup of sake contributes to the story behind these works.

Perhaps this is why Summer Shuki requires such commitment to bring together. It may involve more time, more travel and more conversations than many exhibitions, but the rewards are found in many different forms. Not least among them is the opportunity to introduce you to new artists, welcome back familiar favourites and share the discoveries that continue to excite and inspire us.

Over the years, Summer Shuki has become a bonding experience—not only between ourselves and the artists, but between the gallery and all of you who collect, enjoy and engage with these remarkable vessels. For that, we are profoundly grateful.

In Japan, the sharing of sake has always carried a special ability to soften boundaries. Around a table, over a few cups of nihonshu, invisible hierarchies and formalities begin to dissolve. Conversations become more open, relationships become more personal, and connections are formed. In this sense, shuki is not simply a vessel for sake; it is a vessel for human connection.

For me, collecting shuki is a lifelong pursuit. There will always be one more cup, one more pourer, another artist to discover. With each addition comes renewed excitement, another opportunity to pause, to appreciate, and to connect with the person whose hands brought the piece into existence.

That is the enduring beauty of shuki.

And that is why I am so delighted to share Summer Shuki 2026 with you.

Howard Clegg

Director

The Stratford Gallery