VESSEL, Unusual shaped earthenware, Jomon Period（10000–300BCE）

On the Japanese archipelago, the Jōmon period, which began around 16,500 years ago, fostered one of the world’s oldest known pottery cultures. A symbol of this era is Jōmon pottery. The name derives from the technique of pressing ropes or cords into wet clay to create patterns, with the earliest known examples discovered at sites such as Ōdai Yamamoto in Aomori and Shino-no-uchi in Nagano. These vessels were not merely cooking tools; they served as “monuments” that bridged nature and human activity.

Jōmon pottery was made without a potter’s wheel. Instead, artisans built up coils of clay by hand, leaving behind visible traces of their labor—thickness, slight undulations, and the texture of the clay body still palpable today. To withstand the low firing temperatures of 600–900°C, materials such as shell, plant fibers, and mica were often added to the clay for added durability.

In the Early Jōmon period (ca. 16,500–5,000 BCE), vessels with deep bodies and rounded bottoms were prevalent, designed for practicality in boiling and storage. As sedentary life took hold, flat-bottomed forms gradually emerged for better stability on the ground.

The Middle Jōmon period (ca. 3,500–2,500 BCE) is considered the golden age of Jōmon culture. Vessels with bold, three-dimensional designs such as flame-shaped or crown-shaped rims became widespread, and over 70 regional styles were established. These vessels became symbols of local communities, spirituality, and nature worship. The Dogū clay figurines, too, reflect beliefs in fertility and ritual prayer.

By the Late Jōmon period (ca. 2,500–300 BCE), a shift toward daily utility occurred once again. Spouted jars and thin, board-like Dogū became common, reflecting the shrinking of settlements and possible effects of climate change—marking a transition toward the Yayoi society.

Across these three periods, Jōmon pottery followed a unique cycle: evolving from “practical tools” into expressions of “ornament and spirituality,” and then returning to a focus on the “everyday.” When touching a fragment of Jōmon pottery and inhaling the scent of clay, one can sense a layered dialogue between people and nature, seasons and memory. That familiarity may be a sign that the unbroken thread of life woven over more than 10,000 years on these islands still resides within us. Jōmon pottery, in this way, stands as a grand signpost of history, quietly asking where we have come from—and where we are going.