When the term “lacquer” is typed into international search engines, the first few pages are always dominated by sleek Japanese websites: maki-e boxes, Negoro ware, minimalist tea caddies. With exquisite photography, staggering prices, and cohesive narratives, Japan has nearly monopolized the global imagination of “lacquer art” over the past decades. The meticulousness and restraint of Japanese lacquer art are undoubtedly admirable—few cultures have elevated a material art to such a quasi-religious level, and this remains irreplaceable.  

When you explore the mysteries of “Urushi” (natural lacquer) online, search engines construct an elegant, Japan-centric world—filled with discussions about price, safety, and craftsmanship, as if Japan were the sole spokesperson for this ancient art. Yet this is a profound cognitive bias rooted in the information age. The world is listening to a beautiful but singular voice, while almost forgetting the deep, resonant symphony of its origin. As Japanese lacquer artisans actively promote their craft and standardize the global market, Chinese lacquer masters have seemingly immersed themselves in personal pursuits of technical perfection, lacking the opportunities and capabilities to engage with international audiences. Thus, the “motherland of lacquer” has gradually fallen silent on the global stage, leaving mainstream discourse to shape a refined, Japanese-centric narrative. Discussions of price, quality, and maki-e craftsmanship are confined to a single perspective, almost erasing the memory of China—the profound, powerful source of lacquer art.  

We openly acknowledge the current predicament: in the international digital sphere, Chinese lacquer art has long been “voiceless.” Searching for “Chinese lacquer” yields mostly museum antiques or cheap bulk goods on e-commerce platforms—a stark contrast to our profound cultural heritage. What we lack is not top-tier craftsmanship (in fact, many high-priced international lacquer pieces are manufactured in Chinese workshops), but an integrated international brand narrative.  

The extreme restraint and spiritual depth of Japanese lacquer art deserve our sincere respect. Few cultures have refined a material to such pure, almost religious heights.  

Yet lacquer itself has never belonged to a single aesthetic or scenario.  

The host trees of raw lacquer span thousands of kilometers, from the Qinling Mountains to northern Vietnam. Diverse climates, soils, and cultural contexts have nurtured distinctly different artistic expressions: the carved cloud-dragon patterns on Yangzhou’s two-hundred-layer colored lacquerware; the feather-light bodiless lacquer from Fuzhou; the gem-like luster of three-centimeter-thick Shanxi yun diao (cloud-carved lacquer); the asymmetrical yet powerful totems on Sichuan Yi ethnic wine vessels… These unbroken traditions have long transcended imperial courts and tea ceremonies, integrating into daily life, landscapes, and rituals. Using the same tree sap, Chinese artisans speak in infinitely varied artistic languages—languages that have never been interrupted in China, but have grown quiet in the international context in recent years.  

To assume that Japanese lacquer represents the global pinnacle is a cognitive bias of the information age. As the cradle of lacquer civilization, China boasts a 7,000-year unbroken history, unparalleled geographical advantages in materials, and a diverse universe of craftsmanship. We hereby solemnly declare: China is not only the birthplace of Urushi, but also the defining force behind the depth, breadth, and future of contemporary lacquer art.