Japan has at least six distinct pottery traditions, all producing teapots — and almost no two of them work with the same clay, the same firing temperature, or the same intended use. That's not coincidence. Each region developed its pots from what was locally available: a particular geology, a particular wood, a particular tea. Once you understand these differences, you stop buying a teapot by chance and start choosing deliberately. The Shudei Hira Kyusu by Seiji Ito from Tokoname is a good example of what that means in practice.

Tokoname (Aichi): The reference for Sencha

Tokoname in Aichi Prefecture is Japan's best-known centre for teapot production, with a history stretching back over a thousand years. The characteristic clay is called Shudei — literally "red clay" — and owes its colour to an exceptionally high iron content. During firing, that iron oxidises into a palette ranging from brick red through rust brown to dark chocolate.

The iron content is functional, not merely decorative. Iron(II) ions form complexes with the tea's tannins during brewing, measurably reducing their bitterness. Anyone who brews the same Sencha side by side from a Tokoname pot and from porcelain will notice a sharper astringency in the porcelain. This is not imagination.

Tokoname pots are left unglazed on the inside: the porous clay interacts directly with the tea. Over time, tea oils deposit in the micropores — the process known as seasoning. A well-seasoned pot lends a little more depth even to a modest Sencha.

Which teas? Sencha is the natural partner. Shincha, Fukamushi-Sencha, Kabusecha — anything that benefits from tannin management. Gyokuro in a Tokoname pot is possible but less ideal, since Gyokuro has so few tannins to begin with that the iron effect is barely measurable.

Tokoname teapot workshop — UNEARTHED Gallery Munich

Banko (Mie): Japan's answer to Yixing

Banko ceramics come from Yokkaichi in Mie Prefecture, south of Nagoya. The local clay is called Shidei — a violet or grey clay — and contains different minerals from Tokoname's Shudei. Banko clay is fired at higher temperatures than most other Japanese pottery traditions, giving it a dense, near-stoneware structure.

The comparison to Yixing clay is not accidental: mineral-rich clay, unglazed, purpose-built for tea preparation, with the conviction that the pot improves through years of use. Banko is somewhat more neutral than Yixing — less mineral and earthy — but similarly temperature-stable, and it handles boiling water better than Tokoname. That makes Banko the better choice for Hojicha and for Chinese-style Gongfu teas: if you want a Japanese pot for Oolong or Pu-erh, Banko is the one to reach for.

Banko pots are easy to recognise by their darker, often slightly violet or anthracite surface and their somewhat heavier, more compact build. Many Banko potters use metal mesh strainers rather than the traditional ceramic Sasame.

Tokoname Hohin teapot — UNEARTHED Gallery Munich

Hagi (Yamaguchi): Beautiful, porous, impractical

Hagi ceramics from Yamaguchi Prefecture use a soft, highly porous clay — more absorbent than Tokoname or Banko. The consequence is straightforward: a Hagi pot absorbs aromas and releases them in subsequent brews, which makes it unsuitable for rotating between different teas. In Japan, Hagi pots are therefore treated more as ceremonial objects or collector's pieces. Hagi Chawan occupy second place in the classical Chado hierarchy, just below Raku. For everyday use, they are not the practical choice — but as objects that age visibly, they occupy a category of their own.

Arita and Hasami (Saga / Nagasaki): Porcelain for Gyokuro

Arita in Saga Prefecture is Japan's historic porcelain centre, active since the early 17th century — initially founded by Korean potters who had been brought to Japan. Arita porcelain is smooth, non-porous, chemically inert. It does not interact with the tea. And that is precisely its advantage.

When drinking Gyokuro, you want no influence from the vessel. Gyokuro has a delicate sweetness with Umami, very little bitterness, and a pale emerald colour. Porcelain shows that colour perfectly; an unglazed iron clay would distort it visually and alter the flavour through mineral reactions.

Hasami, in the neighbouring Nagasaki Prefecture, produces plainer, more everyday porcelain — larger pots, clean design, less decorative. Both are well suited to Gyokuro and to any tea where you want a direct, unmediated flavour. One note: porcelain retains heat less well than dense iron clay. For short, precise steeps this is no disadvantage — for longer, more leisurely sessions, worth bearing in mind.

Sado / Mumyōi (Niigata): The rare iron clay of the gold mines

The island of Sado sits in the Sea of Japan off the coast of Niigata Prefecture, historically famous for its gold and silver mines. From the spoil heaps of those mines comes Mumyōi clay — literally "nameless" — an iron-oxide-rich, reddish-brown clay that resembles Tokoname visually but is chemically distinct. Mumyōi contains more iron oxide than almost any other Japanese clay and is burnished after firing until the surface takes on a silky sheen.

Mumyōi pots are made almost exclusively by a handful of masters on the island and are rare even within Japan; outside it they are nearly impossible to find. Functionally, Mumyōi resembles a very dense Tokoname pot — suited to Sencha and premium green teas, with a similar capacity for patina development. The main difference is not one of flavour but of provenance and feel: smoother, heavier for their size, and carrying the knowledge that the raw material from those exhausted mines is finite.

Tokoname Shiboridashi — UNEARTHED Gallery Munich

Handle forms: Yokode, Uwade, Ushirode

Three handle forms dominate, each built for a different use case:

The Yokode handle (side handle, set at a right angle to the spout) is the most common form and the one optimised for green tea. The hand rests stably, the wrist rotates in a controlled arc — you tilt the pot only slightly rather than tipping it, which keeps the lid in place and allows precise pouring. Almost all Tokoname Kyusu are Yokode.

The Uwade handle (top bail handle, like a European teapot) is designed for larger pots and fast pouring into multiple cups. You tilt the pot more steeply — appropriate for Bancha or Hojicha, where four to six cups are filled at once and speed matters more than precision. Typical for pots from 400–500 ml upward.

The Ushirode handle (rear handle, opposite the spout) is the rarest form and derives from the Chinese model. It allows one-handed pouring but offers less stability. You encounter it occasionally on very small pots intended for concentrated Gyokuro infusions.

Strainers: Sasame, metal mesh, ball strainer

The strainer determines which tea leaves work and which will clog:

The classic Sasame is ceramic, formed directly into the pot wall from the same clay as the body. It adds no off-flavour, works well with standard Sencha and Bancha leaves, but poorly with very fine or broken leaves (Fukamushi-Sencha, Kukicha fragments). Always clean it with a soft brush under running water — never push anything hard through it.

The metal mesh strainer is a removable stainless steel insert. Finer than most Sasame, easier to clean, and better suited to finely cut or broken teas. Quality stainless steel adds no flavour. The ball strainer — a perforated ceramic sphere — is found in handleless pots (Hohin, Shiboridashi) and is the most elegant craft solution, though the least practical for daily use.

Size: what works when

Small pots force concentrated infusions with little water and short steeping times — right for Gyokuro and premium Sencha. Larger pots for quick, everyday brews:

  • 50–100 ml — Concentrated Gyokuro style. Often handleless (Hohin or Shiboridashi). Multiple short steeps.
  • 150–200 ml — The ideal single-person size for Sencha. Two to three small cups per steep, fine control possible.
  • 300–400 ml — For two to three people. Still manageable with a Yokode handle. Sencha, Shincha, Kabusecha in company.
  • 500 ml + — Everyday teas: Bancha, Genmaicha, Hojicha. Uwade handle almost always. No precision required.

The leaf-to-water ratio stays constant: a 400 ml pot needs twice as much tea as a 200 ml pot to produce the same result. If you want to be economical with good tea, buy small.

Finding the right pot

A simple decision framework: if you drink Sencha daily, you need an unglazed Tokoname pot at 150–200 ml with a Sasame or metal strainer. If you also brew Chinese teas or Hojicha with boiling water, Banko serves you better. If you drink exclusively Gyokuro and care about visual clarity, take porcelain from Arita or Hasami. Everything else — Hagi, Mumyōi, Shigaraki — is either a specialist tool or a collector's object, worth exploring once you know what you want.

The Japanese have a dedicated word for teapots: Kyūsu (急須) — literally "prepare quickly." It's there in the name: these are not objects for a display cabinet, but things meant to be used regularly, to season, to age, to improve. Buy one that suits your tea, and use it every day.


At UNEARTHED in Munich we carry a curated selection of Japanese teapots — Tokoname Kyusu from potters we know personally, alongside selected pieces from other regions. If you're unsure which pot suits which tea, you're welcome to ask us in person or handle the pots in the gallery. For online orders, leave a note at checkout with the teas you mainly drink — we're happy to help with the selection.

Marcel Karcher