AN ART BOTH GOLDEN AND GREEN

The first thing I learnt about economics as a student was that it exists because resources are scarce and hence need to be rationed. At current times it won’t be an exaggeration to comment that nations in order to achieve their economic goals, are exploiting these scarce resources haphazardly. With recent global emphasis on sustainability, “Green GDP” is quite garnering attention and rightfully so. While there’s no perfect definition of what makes anyone– a person, business, government or enterprise, “green”, it’s time we view Japan, the third largest economy in the world, as the beacon light in terms of balancing economic growth and sustainable development.

Japan’s environmental initiatives and cultural roots in nature are rich topics of discussion. However, I’d like to focus here on an interesting art form of Japan that has been capturing the hearts of many in our recent Pouls.of.art events across the capital and beyond.

Kintsugi is the art of golden joinery, in which broken objects, usually ceramics, are mended with gold-dusted lacquer. Kintsugi’s exact origins are unknown, but some historians date it as far back as the late 15th century. As the story goes, a Japanese shogun sent a one-of-a-kind chawan or tea bowl back to China for repairs. The bowl returned in one piece, but was awkwardly stuck together with unseemly metal staples. Local craftsmen, aware of the shogun’s displeasure and eager to please him, improvised a more appealing repair. Thus, Kintsugi was born.

Kintsugi transforms broken pieces into a new object; the mended cracks become part of its unique history and enhance its beauty. Its implications and symbolism can be interpreted in several ways. However, the ideas of “Mono no aware” and “Mottainai” speak to me the most.

Mono no aware is a core sentiment of Japanese culture and deeper minimalism. It literally translates to “the pathos of things.” But more loosely, it could also mean “the beauty of things passing.” In essence, mono no aware means internalizing the reality that everything in life must pass one day. And yes, this reality implies melancholy and sorrow. But also serenity, peace, and lightness. In kintsugi, the visible repairs symbolize the idea that damage and decay are natural parts of life, and that beauty can be found in this natural cycle of creation, destruction, and renewal. Kyle Chayka writes in The Longing for Less: “Mono no aware is the beauty of transience, the way a falling leaf or sunlight gliding the edge of a rock at the end of the day can incite a sudden gut-punch awareness that life is evanescent.”

This is the idea of avoiding waste and cherishing resources. Mottainai encourages the reuse and repurposing of materials rather than discarding them. Kintsugi, by repairing broken objects and giving them new life, embodies this principle, transforming what would be considered waste into something precious and functional again.

Instead of discarding broken objects, Kintsugi inspires us to embrace the pieces, both literally and metaphorically. It wants us to create something meaningful out of them. This objective resonates deeply with the contemporary discourse on sustainability and resource management, where renewal and reuse of scarce resources are essential.

Anne Shirley Cuthbert, one of my favourite literary characters, admiring the beauty of a broken neck piece says, “After years of stories and triumph and tragedy infused into them, they can be much more romantical than new things that haven't lived at all.” Indeed, in a world with mass production and consumerism, we forget how important it is to look at beauty in old things. Kintsugi embodies and advocates the shift from the quick, accessible, capitalist approach toward repair and regeneration.

A broken vessel is not replaced but reimagined, its cracks gilded to reveal a new kind of art. In doing so, kintsugi teaches that restoration is not about returning to an untouched past but about evolving into a future that integrates memory, resilience, and creativity.

The practice also reflects ecological principles: ecosystems regenerate by integrating loss and damage into cycles of renewal. Forests regrow after fires, rivers carve new paths, and communities heal after disruption. Similarly, kintsugi makes visible the history of an object while allowing it to function again, bridging utility with aesthetics. This approach challenges the linear model of consumption and disposal, offering instead a circular vision of sustainability rooted in care, patience, and reverence for material.

Stories are at the heart of our brand. It’s something that is reiterated by all of our workshops, events and activities. Poulomi Bose, the founder and director of Pouls.of.art, has reinforced the powerful spirit of regeneration through the Kintsugi workshops that are being organised.

Poulomi believes and so do we, that regeneration, whether ecological or personal, asks us to honor our struggles, our stories, no matter how imperfect, not-according-to-plan, silly or serious. We must deliberately thrive to see the value in continuity, in not giving up, in resilience rather than finding a replacement at the first instance. Kintsugi is not merely a metaphor but an art form and practice that aligns with sustainability, that we must inculcate in a fragile word that fears brokenness.

Hemleena
Dearest gentle readers,
One thing about this author that you might’ve already guessed and rightfully so, is that she’s passionate about art and literature. She handles the position of “Research Head” at Pouls.of.art and is always in the pursuit of research ideas, themes, and the silly in the seriousness.

Keep your inspiration alive!

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