Timi Lantos, Small sculptural containers, 2024. Mashiko red clay with kohiki slip, fired in gas kiln.

Liliana Morais writes about a Hungarian potter who moved to the legendary craft town of Mashiko to learn from its soil and people.

Last April, accompanied by a profusion of blooming flowers, I visited my long-time friend, Timi Lantos, a Hungarian potter based in the town of Mashiko, Japan, who taught me (a craft researcher) the importance of listening closely to the voice of materials in the process of learning a craft.

Born in the small town of Kecskemét, about 80 kilometers south of Budapest, Lantos began her journey with ceramics at the young age of fifteen, when she joined the ceramics department of a local vocational school. Later, at the Moholy-Nagy University of Art and Design, she worked mostly with porcelain—molding, slip casting, and hand building the highly resistant material into factory-produced utilitarian items and conceptual installations. Among these was De|construction, a composition of tall, delicate porcelain structures resembling plants, corals, and seaweeds, created as an analogy for society, human relationships, and the layering of time. Her brief experiences with wood-firing during school kindled her interest in Japanese traditions, particularly the wabi-sabi aesthetics of the tea ceremony, where imperfection and spontaneity, rather than the homogeneity and predictability typical of factory production, are pursued.

In 2011, the late potter and celebrated kiln designer Masakazu Kusakabe (1946–2023) gave a workshop at the International Ceramic Studio in her hometown of Kecskemét and invited Lantos to help him at his studio in Miharu, Fukushima, for three months. During that time, Lantos worked as his assistant, building and rebuilding wood-fired kilns at various sites around the country. One of them was Mashiko, where Living National Treasure Shoji Hamada (1894-1978) had built a noborigama (climbing kiln) almost one hundred years before, contributing to bringing new ideas (and people) from around the world to the small rural town.

After returning to Hungary, Lantos, who had experienced making ceramics mostly within the highly controlled environment of industrial production, still yearned to improve her throwing skills and deepen her understanding of the “Japanese approach to making things”. For her, this meant cultivating a close intimacy with materials through touch and pursuing technical excellence as a foundation for creative freedom—something she felt had been lacking in her training as a designer.

In 2016, after gaining a scholarship from the Kanbe Foundation, which provides financial support for creative activities related to ceramic art,  Lantos returned to Mashiko, known as the Mecca of folk craft in Japan. There, she joined the Mashiko Ceramic Club as a volunteer staff member, working in exchange for accommodation and access to an equipped studio to practice during her free time, while doing her research on local ceramics.

At first, her teacher became clay itself

At first, her teacher became clay itself, particularly local clay filled with stones, sand, and other impurities—initially a source of great distress for someone accustomed to the purity of porcelain. It was through collecting raw materials, experimenting with them, and engaging with clay at every stage—preparation, kneading, wheel throwing—that Lantos learned an essential lesson: clay teaches you to understand it, to let it form itself. This humility, this willingness to let materials shape her as much as she shapes them, has deeply influenced her approach to making, as well as her way of relating to others.

At Mashiko Ceramic Club, a hobby pottery school that also offers accommodation in a 150-year-old traditional Japanese farmhouse (kominka), the whole town became her teacher. The club is frequented not only by hobby potters who come on weekends for hands-on ceramic experiences, but also by young and aspiring potters without studios or kilns of their own, as well as international volunteers—many themselves also potters or pottery aficionados. The school often hosts day-long workshops with veteran potters from Mashiko and beyond, providing valuable opportunities for staff to learn by watching masters at work. This rich environment of sharing and exchange contrasts with the common stereotype of Japanese craft as an exclusive world where household secrets are tightly guarded from outsiders.

After several years of learning from the ground up and alongside others, Lantos opened her own studio, located about a ten-minute drive from central Mashiko, where she now fires her works in a gas kiln, under the close supervision of her dedicated companion, her cat Mia. Although it has become more challenging make a living from pottery in Japan today (many potters recall the 1970s and 1980s—an era when economic growth made handmade crafts cherished household items among the middle class), Lantos continues to work with local clays, exploring shapes and design patterns that connect to her rich Hungarian heritage and Japanese potting traditions while providing everyday pleasure to her customers.

In addition to creating utilitarian items such as plates, bowls, and mugs, she also crafts jewelry boxes, flower vases, and sculptural forms of protective figures, such as angels and the Buddhist deity Jizo, protector of children and travelers.

You can find Timi Lantos’ work at Lou&Deco in Setagaya, Tokyo; at Hotel Mashikokan and Michi no Eki, in Mashiko, Tochigi prefecture; or on her website. Alternatively, you can find Timi Lantos’ and her stand at the Mashiko Pottery Festival every Spring and Fall (see the website of Mashiko Town Tourist Association). Follow @timilantosceramics.

Liliana Morais ✿ A barefoot scholar between Brazil and Japan

Liliana Morais offers a humanist perspective on Japanese craft, where she finds a joyfully made beauty.

See also Morais, Liliana. “Western Potters in Japan: Identities, Traditions and Histories from a Cosmopolitan Perspective”. Ph.D. diss., Tokyo Metropolitan University, 2019.

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ceramics | Hungary | Japan | Liliana Morais