In’ei: A Journey of Shadows and Transformation

In’ei: A Journey of Shadows, Clay, and Transformation
By Khushali Chawda

"To do good work means to be curious about the world and to wonder at the materials one works with." — Richard Sennett, The Craftsman

At Cumulus Studio, we have always been drawn to the idea of constant change—of things evolving, shifting, and taking new forms over time. Like clouds, nothing remains static. This philosophy finds its way into In’ei, a piece that is deeply personal to us, shaped by our understanding of material, craft, and the way life itself molds us. The journey of making In'ei reflects a fundamental truth: that our hands, minds, and experiences shape the objects around us, just as they shape who we are.

Clay as a Metaphor for Growth

Working with clay has always felt like a conversation. When we first touch it, it is soft, pliable, without a defined form—much like us as children, untouched by experience. The Kurinuki technique, which involves carving directly into a solid block of clay, feels like a metaphor for growth. With every cut, excess is removed, just as life’s experiences shape us, chiseling away what isn’t essential and revealing who we are meant to become.

Richard Sennett, in The Craftsman, describes craftsmanship as “an enduring, basic human impulse, the desire to do a job well for its own sake.” This resonates deeply with us. The process of shaping clay by hand is not just about the final form but about deep engagement with the material—learning its resistance, understanding its limits, and working with it rather than against it. Sennett emphasizes that true craftsmanship is about developing an intimate relationship with the material, where skill and knowledge emerge through practice and repetition. The marks left behind by our hands are not just evidence of labor; they tell the story of time, patience, and transformation.

In The Craftsman, Sennett also discusses the idea of material consciousness—the deep awareness of a material’s properties and its behavior in different conditions. Clay teaches us patience; it requires a rhythm of work, where the right amount of pressure, moisture, and fire determine the outcome. If rushed, it cracks; if neglected, it hardens beyond repair. These qualities are not limitations but lessons—reminding us to work with care, to listen, and to respect the medium as a living entity.

The Beauty of Imperfection

The philosophy behind In Praise of Shadows also speaks to this process. Tanizaki writes about the beauty of depth, of shadows, of imperfection. We see In’ei as an extension of this idea. The rugged ceramic base, marked by intentional cuts and grooves, holds stories of process and patience. The smooth brass top reflects light softly, a contrast to the textured base—just as our journey is a balance between raw experiences and the wisdom we gain over time.

Sennett suggests that craftsmanship is not about flawlessness but about a deep respect for the imperfect beauty that comes with handmade work. He writes, “All craftsmanship is founded on skill developed to a high degree, but skill itself will not be understood unless we consider the conditions in which it develops.” True mastery is not about achieving an idealized perfection but about understanding the nuances of the process—embracing the irregularities, the asymmetry, and the marks of the maker’s hand.

The Kurinuki method itself embodies this philosophy. Unlike symmetrical, machine-cut objects, each piece is shaped uniquely, its form emerging intuitively through the act of carving. No two In’ei tables are identical, just as no two lives follow the same path. The marks, textures, and subtle differences tell a story of the hands that created them, a narrative of time and touch woven into the very structure of the object.

In’ei: An Invitation to Pause

For us, In’ei is more than just a table. It is a reflection of transformation, an invitation to pause, to embrace imperfection, and to find meaning in the spaces between light and shadow. It reminds us that, like clay, we are always being shaped, always evolving, always becoming.

In a world that often rushes toward efficiency and mass production, In’ei is a reminder of the beauty of slowness, of hands shaping something meaningful, of allowing time to leave its imprint on an object. As Sennett beautifully articulates, “Making is thinking.” In working with clay, we think not just with our minds but with our hands, our instincts, and our lived experiences.

Through In’ei, we hope to share this journey—a journey of material, of light and shadow, of transformation. Because in the end, it is not just the objects we create that define us, but the process, the care, and the stories embedded within them.