The history of silverwork in Tokyo dates back to the mid-Edo period. Silversmiths (shiroganeshi) who specialized in making silverware, as well as kinkōshi artisans who crafted combs, hairpins, and fittings for portable shrines, emerged, and silverware became popular among townspeople.

In fact, the familiar place name “Ginza” originates from the sites where silver coins were cast and bullion was traded during the early modern era.

Tatsuaki Kamikawa (art name: Sotatsu Kamikawa) was born into a family of silversmiths. In 1998, he apprenticed under his father, Muneteru Kamikawa (the second generation), and began learning the techniques of tankin (hammering). Later, he was deeply moved by the inlay works of Hōseki Okuyama, a Living National Treasure, and became his apprentice.

“Standing before his work, I couldn’t move for about 30 minutes. I just wanted to keep looking. I felt, ‘I want to make works like this,’ so I personally asked to become his disciple,” recalls Sotatsu.

The words he received then—“Train your human strength”—remain with him. Okuyama taught that “because these are objects made by people, the thoughts and character of the maker are reflected in them.” This teaching has been deeply engraved in Sotatsu’s own way of thinking.

At age 30, he became the youngest to be certified as a Traditional Craftsperson in silverware. In 2023, he exhibited at Tokyo Teshigoto GINAME and won the “President of the Japan Association of Traditional Craftsmen Award” at the 48th National Traditional Craft Exhibition.

There are three main silverwork techniques: tankin (hammering), chōkin (engraving), and chūkin (casting). Sotatsu has continually evolved his own approach to tankin. Its defining feature is that hammering increases the density of the metal. For example, a 3D printer may replicate a shape, but it cannot enhance density, which gives tankin pieces their unique strength.

Another advantage is repairability: if a silver vessel is dented, it can be hammered back into shape, allowing for long use. To form silver objects, artisans place the metal against an anvil-like tool called an ategane and hammer it.

When Sotatsu first trained under Okuyama, he was not allowed to touch silver at all—he began by making ategane. “If you can’t make tools, you can’t make proper silverware. By refining your tools, your individuality comes through,” Okuyama taught. Sotatsu continues to value toolmaking today.

“If you only use store-bought tools, you can only create within their limits. But if you make your own tools, they inspire new designs, and the possibilities expand infinitely,” he says with a smile, holding an ategane.

Tokyo silverware embodies the Japanese aesthetic of yo no bi (“beauty in utility”), combining practicality with artistic elegance. For example, the spout of a kettle and the body are made separately and later joined. This is because the spout protrudes and is most likely to be damaged if dropped, so it is forged thicker and sturdier than other parts. Each process is designed with both beauty and usability in mind.

“Handmade means no two are the same. Unlike copy-and-paste, the information contained is different. The beauty of handwork lies in its natural 1/f fluctuation—a comforting irregularity within uniformity. Anything that cannot be explained as needing to be handmade should be made by machines instead.” With this philosophy, Sotatsu continues to pursue the possibilities of craftsmanship.

The silver used by Sotatsu is 999 fine silver—99.9% pure, nearly 100%. It is not labeled 1000 because the Mint of Japan has declared that 100% pure silver does not exist.

Globally, sterling silver (92.5% purity) is the standard, but the higher the purity, the softer the metal. Thus, pure silver is normally unsuitable for accessories. However, through Sotatsu’s careful craftsmanship and the hardening effect of hammering, the unique appeal of high-purity silver is revealed.

He chooses silver 999 for three reasons: it does not oxidize and tarnish because it contains no copper; it is less likely to cause metal allergies; and it allows people to experience the true natural color of silver.

In Europe, silver has long been used for symbolic objects such as Dracula’s cross and the Holy Grail, originally to ward off evil. Sotatsu’s fascination with silver extends beyond technique to history and the chemistry of silver (Ag).

“I am drawn to the depth of silverwork, found at the intersection of ‘technique,’ ‘history,’ and ‘chemistry.’ I want to spend my life exploring it, becoming more knowledgeable than anyone else.”

Through constant inquiry, he shares the beauty of silver with the world—conveyed through the “true color of silver.”

“The best outcome is when someone buys something simply because they find it beautiful, only later realizing it is traditional craft,” says Sotatsu. “That shift—‘Ah, no wonder I thought it was good, it’s made by a traditional artisan’—is what I hope for.”

Rather than prioritizing formality, he believes the true value lies in the inherent quality of the object itself.

His vision is to create silverware that, like the music of Southern All Stars, resonates across generations. With an eye toward appealing not only to existing customers but also to younger generations, his workshop also includes a shop displaying accessories, cutlery, kettles, and more. Observing which items are overlooked provides him with hints for creating works that connect with all ages. Through constant refinement of balance between price and appearance, he continues to question and define what truly makes something good.

“Now is an age of selective use. It’s not about filling your home entirely with traditional crafts. Some items from 100-yen shops offer great cost performance. It’s better to combine the best of both worlds. But the ultimate goal is to make tools that, though simple, would bring you to tears if lost.”

“For me, it’s not about making things with the burden of ‘preserving tradition.’ It’s about enjoying it. When you enjoy it, you naturally think of the user and find ways to innovate.”

Blending lightly into the lifestyles of all generations while passionately carrying forward tradition, Sotatsu envisions a vibrant future for Tokyo silverware.