Untitled (standing form)
Glazed ceramic, placed on the cabinet in the main room. Built by hand over many sittings, the surface keeps every pressure mark from the making.
Every work in this house came from somewhere specific — a studio, a table, a pair of hands that returns to the same gesture week after week. Nothing here was bought to fill a wall.
選んだのであって、飾ったのではありません。
We hang the work. We don't explain the maker.
Outsider art is work made outside the art world's usual channels — without art school, without galleries in mind, often without any intention of being seen at all. It is made because the person making it cannot not make it.
Most of the pieces here were acquired directly from studios across the Kansai region, where artists work daily and their output rarely travels beyond the studio door.
We put them where you would otherwise hang a clock. Above a bed. Beside a stairwell. In the room where you drink your first coffee. Not as a statement, but because good work deserves to be lived with rather than filed away.
If you want to know more about a piece, ask. If you'd rather simply live alongside it for a few days without explanation, that is entirely the point.
Glazed ceramic, placed on the cabinet in the main room. Built by hand over many sittings, the surface keeps every pressure mark from the making.
A group of vessels that guests are welcome to use. They were made to hold things, and they hold up better for being handled than for being admired.
Hung low on the timber wall, beneath a ceiling of original beams. Small against the height of the room — which is why it holds your eye once you find it.
The building was already here — a Showa-era residence that had spent part of its life as an architectural studio. What changed was not the structure but the decisions made inside it: what to keep, what to leave bare, where light should be allowed to land.
Those decisions were made by an artist, not a contractor. Which is why the timber was left visible, why some walls were never finished, and why the rooms are lit for the evening rather than for photographs.
Living here for a few days is the closest thing to seeing the collection properly. The works were placed for this house, and the house was shaped for them.
A small book by the entrance carries notes on each work in English and Japanese. If something catches you and the book doesn't answer it, write to us — we would rather tell you properly than leave you guessing.
Several pieces in the house can be purchased. Proceeds go directly to the artist and their studio — we take nothing. If you'd like to know which works are available during your stay, just ask.
The whole house, one group at a time. Three bedrooms, up to nine guests, and a rotating collection you'll have entirely to yourself.
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