​Ten years ago, on a trip to Japan, I had the opportunity to meet a venerable elder, Keiko Nakamura, in Kyoto. Born in 1923, she had trained as a ceramist from a very young age and, at that time—aged 92—she was still producing sublime pieces, remarkable for their simplicity, balance, and beauty. Keiko spoke about her work with fascination, describing imperfection as a desired quality, for its ability to confer uniqueness and character on each piece.

 

We spoke in French, as she had learnt it during the war in order to read Madame Bovary in the original. She mentioned Tanizaki, whom she had met in her youth: “You have to read his stories to understand my country better.” I remembered that in one of them, a character collects lacquered wooden bowls for miso soup, like someone collecting mirrors—because when you look inside, you see yourself reflected, as if it were one.

​

We talked about the contrasts between Western and Eastern cultures—both in grand ideas and in everyday life. About mirrors, she told me something very touching: “Traditionally, since ancient times, here in Japan, the reflection in a mirror has been considered a representation of the soul or spirit. Carefully observing this image allowed for deep introspection and a better understanding of oneself…”

​

Keiko passed away last autumn, after 101 years devoted to reflection and beauty. This collection of “mirrors” is the result of those conversations and of my profound admiration for this remarkable woman.

​

“Miroirs de Keiko Nakamura” is a tribute to her person.

​