In the castle city of Matsumoto, Nagano, surrounded by beautiful nature, the dignified presence of the Matsumoto Castle, or the "Crow Castle," adds a refreshing tension to its clean, quiet air. The Itos originally migrated to the city to work in the construction of the castle and has been running their family business, Ito Masonry, for over a hundred years. The current owner, Hirotoshi Ito, is also an internationally recognized "stone artist."

I heard you just came back from exhibiting your work overseas.

Yes, I've been doing that for about six or seven years, in the U.S. and in other countries. At first I was invited by a gallery who saw my work online, and then more opportunities came in. I enjoy meeting people who collect my work at these exhibitions. They are from all age groups. My work is usually pretty compact, so some of them even bring their "collection" and tell me things like, "This is my favorite piece by you." It's always amazing to meet people who love your work more than you ever thought. Since I started exhibiting abroad, I've grown more fascinated with stones as a material. It seems anybody from anywhere in the world can relate to my work because stones are the earth itself.

Do people abroad see your work more as art than craft?

When we say "craft" in Japan, we are mainly focusing on the functional, not artistic, aspect of the products. It seems different, say, in the U.S., because their lifestyle itself is different from ours. They seem to prefer items with character even for practical use, you know, something like a "functional sculpture" that you can enjoy as a piece of art and use in your daily life. I guess you could say they are good at integrating art into everyday life. I find it pretty intriguing.

I like how you have a gallery in the upstairs of your store. It's rare to see a masonry with an art gallery.

I guess you are right. It all goes back to the time when they built the Matsumoto Castle. My ancestors first came here to work on the construction. Our business then was founded in Meiji 12 (1879), so it's been around for more than a hundred years. We mostly make gravestones and such, but sometimes we get orders for sculptures and dosojin (stone markers). I don't know if you've noticed, but there are many dosojin statues around here remaining from the old times.

Dosojin statues are a part of the Japanese indigenous traditions. Some of them are regarded as deities of the road who protect villagers and travelers, while others are worshipped as deities of marriage and fertility.

The tradition was and still is very strong around here, especially areas around Matsumoto and the next city, Azumino. There's quite a variety. You can find ones with images of a couple holding hands or even ones that look like genitals. In some areas they have festivals where they let kids paint dosojin statues in their favorite colors. I guess the people of this area have somehow developed a custom of expressing their prayers and wishes through stones. In our yard, we still have statues of Thousand-Armed Avalokiteshvara and Cetaka made by my grandfather. Growing up, it was such a common sight to see him chiseling stones that it was just natural that I started making things out of stones aside from business.

It's thrilling how your work challenges the way we view the world. Some of your pieces have such a soft texture like fabric or water. Others look like living creatures. They hardly look like they are made of stones.

I've always loved stones as my art material. I hope to make the most of their characters in my work, but my style is different from my grandfather's. His was rather a simple and straightforward expression of what he saw as the truth. For me, realism just isn't my style.

Where do you get inspiration for your work?

Well, when you work with stones all day, every day, you just start thinking about them a lot. You start saying things like, "What if this stone burst out laughing?" Or, there was this one time when I was cutting rubble and the surface looked like wool and I said to myself, "Why don't I make a sweater out of this stone?" That's how I get inspired.
To me, one of the greatest things about Japanese craft is that there's always a playful aspect in its functionality. There is, for example, a moon-shaped dinner plate. I also found this lidded lacquered bowl the other day. On the lid was a peaceful silver grass field painted in gold lacquer, and when I lifted the lid and looked inside the bowl, I saw the same field but with a bird about to fly out into the sky. It's almost as if there was a storyline. Such playfulness seems common in Japanese craft, and I find it really appealing.

I'm still amazed by how your pieces don't look like stones. That actually makes us feel more intrigued with the material.

I'm glad you feel that way. Stones are such a tangible material that there's almost no need to represent them in painting or any other art forms. Just by being there, they pose such powerful presence. All I do is add a little touch, and they start stirring up the audience's imagination.
Imagine a gallery where stones are casually laid out on tables. They are simple, ordinary stones, nothing special. But then, you see people smiling as they pick up or listen to them. Maybe there are stones that give out light when touched. But from a distance, they only look like regular stones thrown around. Wouldn't it be cool? That's what I'd like to do in my future exhibitions.
Imagine a gallery where stones are casually laid out on tables. They are simple, ordinary stones, nothing special. But then, you see people smiling as they pick up or listen to those stones. Some stones might even give out light when touched. From a distance, they still only look like regular stones carelessly thrown around. Wouldn't that be cool? That's what I'd like to do in my future exhibitions.