While it rings with the feeling of the modern design, this plate is, in fact, an example of ko-Imari (old Imari) ware. Though it lacks the fastidious ornamentations of the later wares produced for the export that often Imari is distinguished by, these early examples are the most desirable among connoisseurs. Ko-Imari relates to Imari ware like the Renaissance does to the heavy ornament of the Baroque, or as an early Greek Kouros statue does to the grand flair of Hellenistic sculpture. That is to say, ko-Imari were among the first of their kind in this style, rich with simplicity and ingenuity before it calcifies into the convention. The plate feels vibrant and fresh because it is one of the oldest, the first, and it still contains that curious energy of discovery.

One notices the excellent brush strokes of waves and leaves sketched in a delicate blue glaze on the plate. Like the object’s imperfect surface, the patterns recall their construction, making no efforts to conceal the fact that they were rendered through the movements of the human hand. The designs don’t cohere into rigid ornamentation; instead, they unfurl and flow in fluid wisps against the plate’s surface. The surface of the plate begins to appear as if in flux, defined by the design’s rhythmic asymmetrical flow.

So many different songs are waiting to be written against the surface of this ko-Imari plate. Just a few slices of ripe persimmons could bring it to life, humming with bursts of orange flesh. All they require is one who finds every meal to be an opportunity to create harmony between food and its container.

How about serving a dessert to share on the plate after dinner for two or three?