Words from Akiko: 

"This exhibition takes its title from Jacques Prévert’s poem Déjeuner du Matin (Breakfast). The works themselves are tableware intended for the rituals of breakfast, but the title carries another meaning. 

I have long admired Prévert’s poetry. In Déjeuner du Matin, there is almost no psychological description. Instead, the poem simply records a sequence of ordinary actions: coffee is poured, a cigarette is lit, a raincoat is put on, someone leaves. Yet through these quiet observations, profound emotion emerges. Nothing is explained, and nothing dramatic happens, but something deeply human is felt. 

I find the same quality in the novels of Marguerite Duras, where emotional states are rarely described directly, but are revealed through atmosphere, gesture and the passing of time. Some European films are often criticised as films "in which nothing happens." Yet it is precisely within these uneventful moments that a subtle fluctuation begins to appear—a slight shift in balance that quietly touches our emotions. 

This sense of fluctuation is what I seek in my ceramics. 

I first encountered it in antique Korean ceramics, particularly everyday vessels from the Goryeo and Joseon periods. Their beauty lies not in precision but in balance achieved through imperfection. Their irregularities are the result of materials that were less refined than those available today, guided by the sensitivity of the maker's hand. They possess a physical instability that feels alive. 

I cannot reproduce those works, nor do I wish to. Instead, I try to create my own form of fluctuation. I mix some kind of impurity in my clay and throw it. During throwing, impurities within the clay move unpredictably, resisting an even pull and allowing the form to shift. During firing, the same clay responds differently to oxygen-rich and oxygen-starved flames, producing subtle variations of colour across a single vessel. In many ways, I intentionally reintroduce the irregularities that commercial ceramics have spent centuries eliminating. 

Today, much of industrial production values consistency, precision and control. My work moves in the opposite direction, embracing variation as an essential part of making. 

I am currently researching why certain forms of fluctuation and irregularity resonate so deeply with some people, while leaving others untouched. What was once an intuitive feeling has gradually become a more focused line of enquiry. The works in this exhibition are part of that ongoing investigation. They are quiet objects, but within their stillness I hope a gentle fluctuation can be felt—one that, like Prévert's poem, communicates not by explanation but by presence."