You’ll step into a quiet Tokyo studio where you’ll learn kintsugi from friendly local instructors—maybe even meet Master Taku if he’s around. Repair beginner pottery with gold resin, hear stories behind this Japanese art, and bring home your own imperfect creation as a memory you can actually hold.
I was late — classic me. The train stopped for ages at Shibuya and I half-jogged through the backstreets to the kintsugi studio, still clutching a convenience store coffee. My socks squeaked on the tatami as I slid off my shoes (should’ve worn something less embarrassing). But nobody seemed to mind; one of the assistants just smiled and handed me an apron, like this happened every day. The whole place smelled faintly of wood shavings and something sweet — maybe lacquer? There was a quiet hum from the other guests, but it wasn’t awkward. Just soft voices and little clinks of plates.
Our guide (I think her name was Emi?) explained how kintsugi is more about honoring the break than hiding it. She showed us these chipped plates prepared for beginners — no pressure to fix anything precious. When she poured out the gold powder, it caught in the sunlight and looked almost fake, like glitter you’d find in a kid’s craft set. But when we started mixing it with resin and tracing over our cracks, everyone got weirdly focused. I tried to copy Emi’s brushstroke but mine came out wobbly. She just laughed and said that’s part of it: “Imperfection is beautiful.” Someone asked about Master Taku — apparently he sometimes pops in for the 11 o’clock class if you’re lucky (we weren’t), but they told stories about him winning some big art award this year for his charity work too.
I kept thinking about how different this felt from buying a souvenir at a shop. You get your own repaired plate to take home (they warn you not to eat off it though). It’s not perfect — mine definitely isn’t — but there’s something honest about seeing those golden lines up close. The class only lasted an hour but I left feeling oddly calm, like I’d been let in on some small secret about Japan that doesn’t show up on postcards or Instagram feeds. Still can’t pronounce “kintsugi” right, but I’ll remember that feeling every time I see my plate on the shelf.
No, personal ceramic pieces aren’t allowed; you use plates provided by the studio prepared for beginners.
No, Master Taku may attend some 11 o’clock classes but his presence isn’t guaranteed.
The lesson lasts approximately 60 minutes.
Children under 6 years old cannot enter the atelier for safety reasons.
Yes, all areas and surfaces are wheelchair accessible.
You’ll take home your repaired plate as a souvenir; it’s not suitable for eating or drinking.
Yes, all necessary equipment and materials are included in your booking fee.
Your experience includes all equipment needed for kintsugi—plates prepared by the studio for beginners, gold resin materials, instruction from local guides (sometimes even Master Taku), plus your finished piece to keep after class; taxes and handling fees are covered too.
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