Black has always known something the other colours don’t.

In the late 16th century, Sen no Rikyū asked a tile-maker named Chōjirō to create a bowl without
decoration, without ornament, without anything that was not necessary. What came from the kiln was kuro-raku — a black so deep it seems to hold darkness rather than reflect it. Rikyū understood immediately: this was not absence. This was presence at its most absolute.

Five centuries later, the tradition continues in Kyoto’s studios, passed down not through family
lineage alone but through the act of making — hand forming clay, applying iron glaze by brush, firing alone at low temperature, and letting the kiln decide the rest.

A black Raku chawan made at a kiln in Kyoto. Its reddish marking brings warmth and character to the deep black surface, giving the bowl a quietly expressive presence.

The maker is unknown and the signature remains unidentified. Accompanied by its tomobako.

Only one exists.