The Medium Moves

Urushi, the traditional Japanese lacquer, is derived from the sap of the Toxicodendron vernicifluum tree. With a history extending over 7,000 years, it occupies a singular position in East Asian material culture — prized not only for its durability and aesthetic refinement, but also for its deep ritual and spiritual associations.

Urushi is also a medium that remains largely enclosed within the cultural traditions that produced it. This is not simply due to reverence for heritage or aesthetic convention, which holds particular strength in East Asian societies. The medium itself enforces its boundaries. In its raw state, urushi is poisonous — skin contact can cause severe allergic reactions. This toxicity, combined with the medium’s climatic sensitivity, long curing times, and technical complexity, means that it cannot be handled casually or experimentally. It must be entrusted to the hands of a specialist artisan.

Yet the very properties that define urushi resonate with the values of conceptual and minimalist practices — process, surface, and seriality. This alignment suggests that urushi carries an untapped potential for exactly this contemporary context.

Harmen Brethouwer seeks to unlock this potential. In a collaboration with master urushi artisan Sergej Kirilov, sustained over many years, he repositions the medium within a framework of minimalist discipline. His signature square panel provides a stable ground — a constant that allows urushi to unfold in subtle, iterative variations. Crucially, Brethouwer introduces a new idea to the history of urushi: the possibility of allowing the medium to operate with autonomy. The lacquered surface becomes both a record of its making and a conceptual proposition, where meaning is carried by the medium itself. Through this, urushi begins to articulate a position in contemporary art.

The proposition is intensified even further by the collaboration itself. It is not simply the pragmatic cooperation between artist and artisan, but a meeting of two distinct value systems: the ethos of the master craftsman and that of the conceptual artist. It is here that the project acquires its second dynamic.

Kirilov’s discipline is rooted in an inherited craft. His relationship with urushi is one of fidelity: the surface must be immaculate, the process inviolable. A speck of dust, a minor flaw — these are grounds for rejection. Brethouwer’s interest, by contrast, lies not only in the finished object, but in the layers of making itself. For him, the process is a form of inquiry, where each stage of making — including deviation or accident — holds significance.

The collaboration demands ongoing dialogue. Neither position concedes authority; instead, the work emerges in between. It takes collaboration to the edge, holding artistic and artisanal values in productive tension, and in doing so, opens a space where something singular can unfold — something that neither party could arrive at alone.

E.V.F.