The Smoke and Spirit of Onda Ware (Ancient Japan)

High in the hills of Kyushu, Japan, tucked between rice paddies and cedar groves, sits the quiet village of Onda (also spelled Onta). Here, for more than 300 years, potters have fired their work in climbing kilns, fed by whole communities working in rhythm with fire and earth.

Onda ware isn’t flashy. These are workaday pots — humble, functional, and tough enough for everyday use. But they carry something ancient in their bones: a sense of place, of persistence, and of time stacked like wood beside a kiln.

The process begins not in the studio but at the kara-usu, massive wooden hammer mills powered by flowing water. These rhythmic, thudding beasts pound raw stone into clay — a sound so distinctive, it's been designated an "Intangible Cultural Asset" by the Japanese government. The whole village sings with this beat, the echo of the clay's origin.

Once formed, each pot is wood-fired in a noborigama, or climbing kiln, for multiple days. The flames lick and kiss the pots in unpredictable ways, leaving behind swirls of ash glaze, scorch marks, and the fingerprint of fire itself. Nothing here is rushed. Everything is seasonal, community-bound, and infused with quiet pride.

Onda ware reminds us: pottery doesn’t have to be perfect — it has to be alive.

Next In Clay Lore: Pueblo-inspired Ancient Americas - Earth and Fire, Pueblo Pottery and the spirit of the land. (Ancient Americas)