Living examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold

If you want real examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold, you have to start in the tearoom. Kintsugi was born inside the world of chanoyu, the Japanese tea ceremony, where a chipped bowl could carry as much emotional weight as a family heirloom.

One often-cited example of kintsugi comes from Raku tea bowls in the 16th and 17th centuries. These bowls, prized for their earthy, hand-molded forms, were used by tea masters who cared more about character than perfection. When a Raku bowl cracked, it wasn’t thrown away. Instead, a craftsperson filled the fractures with urushi lacquer mixed with powdered gold. The repaired bowl re-entered the tearoom not as a lesser object, but as something richer in story. Some of the best examples show long, lightning-bolt veins of gold running down the interior, directing your eye to the bowl’s history rather than away from it.

Another historical example of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold involves imported Chinese porcelain. During the Muromachi and Momoyama periods, Chinese ceramics were luxury items in Japan. When a treasured Chinese bowl or dish shattered during a tea gathering, it was a small disaster. Instead of replacing it, tea practitioners commissioned kintsugi repairs that combined Japanese lacquer work with Chinese porcelain. These hybrid pieces—Chinese clay, Japanese gold-filled cracks—became some of the earliest and best examples of cross-cultural art repair.

Even Japanese museums today quietly display examples of kintsugi in their ceramics collections. The Tokyo National Museum and Kyoto National Museum, for instance, hold bowls where the repair lines are as visually dominant as the original glaze, a reminder that in traditional aesthetics, damage could be transformed into a feature rather than a flaw.

Everyday examples of kintsugi in modern homes

Not all examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold live behind glass. Many of the most moving examples include the kind of objects you might find in your own kitchen cabinet.

Think of a wedding gift bowl that cracked during a move. Instead of replacing it with a new one from the registry, a couple might send it to a kintsugi artist. When it returns, the fracture is traced in gold, turning a stressful break into a visible reminder of what they’ve survived together. That bowl now sits on the table at every anniversary dinner, a quiet, glittering witness to arguments, reconciliations, and everything in between.

Or imagine a tea mug inherited from a grandparent, the handle broken and glued back on years ago with clumsy hardware-store adhesive. A growing number of contemporary kintsugi practitioners—some in the U.S. and Europe—offer to re-repair these sentimental pieces using a modern kintsugi style. They may use epoxy mixed with metallic powder instead of traditional urushi, but the philosophy is the same: the crack becomes a line of bright metal, and the mug becomes a daily ritual of remembrance.

There are also DIY kintsugi kits sold online, especially popular since 2020, when people stuck at home turned to crafts that felt meditative and meaningful. Social media is now full of real examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold (or at least gold-colored resin)—plates mended after clumsy baking experiments, bowls dropped during long Zoom calls, vases broken by bored indoor cats. None of these pieces are museum-grade, but they’re emotionally charged. They show how the practice migrated from rarefied tea culture into ordinary apartments and suburban kitchens.

Contemporary art and design: best examples of kintsugi-inspired work

If you look at design trends through 2024 and 2025, you’ll see kintsugi everywhere—sometimes literal, sometimes metaphorical. Designers and artists have turned examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold into a visual shorthand for resilience.

One of the best examples in contemporary design is the wave of kintsugi-style tableware created by artists in Japan, the U.S., and Europe. Some makers intentionally crack their own ceramics during firing, then repair them with gold lacquer as part of the design process. The break is not an accident but a collaboration with chance. The finished plate or bowl is sold not as a “fixed” item, but as a story-bearing object, often highlighted in product descriptions as kintsugi-inspired.

In the broader art world, sculptors have adopted the approach for large-scale installations. There are artists who cast concrete forms, deliberately break them, and then reassemble the pieces with gold-painted seams that zigzag across the surface. These works echo the idea of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold on a monumental scale, inviting viewers to walk around the fracture lines and think about damage at the level of cities, not just cups.

Fashion and product design offer more subtle examples. Some jewelry designers create rings and pendants that mimic kintsugi cracks in metal and stone, framing gemstones with jagged, gold-filled lines. Others use fragments of broken porcelain, the edges gilded, set into necklaces. These are wearable examples of kintsugi, making the philosophy part of everyday style.

Even big brands have flirted with the aesthetic in limited-edition collaborations, using gold-veined patterns on sneakers, phone cases, and furniture. While purists might argue these are only surface-level interpretations, they still reflect how widely the idea has spread by 2024–2025.

For context on how traditional arts like kintsugi influence contemporary design thinking, institutions such as the Smithsonian and major universities regularly publish material on Japanese aesthetics and craft traditions. The Smithsonian’s Asian art collections, for example, offer background on tea wares and Japanese ceramics that help frame these newer interpretations in a longer history.

Psychological and healing examples: kintsugi as metaphor

If you talk to therapists, coaches, or wellness practitioners in 2024, you’ll hear kintsugi referenced almost as often as mindfulness. While psychology journals may not be filled with formal kintsugi studies, the metaphor has become a favorite way to talk about recovery.

Therapists sometimes use kintsugi-style workshops in group settings. Participants may take simple ceramic pieces, intentionally break them, and then repair them together, talking about trauma, grief, or illness as they work. The finished bowls become physical examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold, standing for the idea that healing can leave visible marks without reducing a person’s worth.

This resonates with broader research on resilience and post-traumatic growth from organizations like the American Psychological Association (APA) and health-focused institutions such as the National Institutes of Health (NIH). While these organizations typically talk in terms of coping strategies, social support, and meaning-making, kintsugi gives people a concrete, visual way to hold those ideas in their hands.

In some hospital and mental health settings, art therapists adapt kintsugi-inspired activities—not always with real lacquer or gold, but with safe materials. Patients might decorate drawings of broken vessels with metallic pens, or assemble paper collages that echo gold-filled cracks. These are not traditional examples of kintsugi in the strict craft sense, but they are very real examples of how the art of repairing with gold has migrated into emotional and spiritual healing.

Health resources like Mayo Clinic and NIH emphasize the importance of creative outlets, social connection, and meaning in recovery from stress and illness. Kintsugi, in practice and metaphor, often becomes one of those creative outlets.

Digital and pop culture examples of kintsugi

By 2024, kintsugi isn’t just a quiet craft; it’s a pop culture reference.

On social media platforms, you can find short videos of people repairing bowls with gold-colored resin, often paired with captions about heartbreak, burnout, or starting over. These clips are some of the most widely shared real examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold, even if the technique is simplified for speed.

In film and television, writers increasingly use kintsugi as a visual metaphor. A character might drink from a gold-cracked cup during a scene about reconciliation, or a repaired vase might appear in the background after a family crisis. These subtle examples include a kind of visual hint: the household has been through something, and the repair is ongoing.

Authors of self-help and personal development books also lean heavily on kintsugi imagery. Chapters about recovery from divorce, illness, or addiction often reference the idea that “your cracks can be filled with gold.” While not every example of kintsugi use in these books is technically accurate from a craft standpoint, it shows how deeply the concept has entered Western emotional vocabulary.

Even branding and logos have picked up kintsugi-inspired lines—golden fractures across a wordmark or emblem that signal resilience and rebirth. These may be among the most abstract examples of kintsugi, but they confirm that the art of repairing with gold has become visual shorthand for bouncing back.

Learning from examples of kintsugi in your own creative practice

You don’t need a studio or a traditional training to learn from examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold. You can start by paying attention to how artists and craftspeople treat damage and imperfection.

Ceramic artists who practice kintsugi often talk about the moment of the break as a collaboration with chance. The kiln cracks a piece unexpectedly; a slip of the hand drops a bowl. Instead of seeing this as the end, they treat it as a prompt. The eventual gold line is a drawing made by circumstance. If you’re a painter, writer, or designer, you can treat mistakes the same way—highlighting the “cracks” in your process rather than hiding them.

Look at the best examples of kintsugi repairs and you’ll notice something: the gold lines are not randomly thick or flashy. They’re thoughtful. The craftsperson respects the original form of the vessel, allowing the repair to follow the natural path of the break. In other words, the repair honors what happened instead of trying to overwrite it. That attitude translates easily to creative work and even to personal growth.

Educational institutions and museums sometimes host workshops and lectures on kintsugi and related Japanese arts. Universities such as Harvard and other academic centers with East Asian studies programs often share online resources about Japanese aesthetics, including wabi-sabi, which pairs naturally with kintsugi’s celebration of imperfection.

If you’re looking for a practical example of how to apply kintsugi thinking without touching a single shard of pottery, consider how you handle a failed project. Instead of hiding it in a folder, you might annotate it with what you learned and share it with peers, letting the “cracks” show. That’s a psychological version of tracing your fractures with gold.

FAQ: Real-world examples of kintsugi and how it’s used

Q: What are some famous historical examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold?
A: Classic examples include repaired Raku tea bowls from the 16th century, Chinese porcelain dishes mended in Japan for tea ceremonies, and cracked tea wares in museum collections where the gold seams are prominently visible. These pieces show how kintsugi emerged inside the culture of tea and slowly became an art form in its own right.

Q: Can you give an example of kintsugi being used outside traditional Japan?
A: Many contemporary ceramic artists in the U.S. and Europe use kintsugi-style repairs on their work, sometimes with modern materials. A potter might intentionally fracture a finished bowl, then repair it with epoxy and metallic powder. The result is a modern example of kintsugi philosophy applied with updated tools.

Q: Are all examples of kintsugi made with real gold?
A: No. Traditional kintsugi uses urushi lacquer and real gold, silver, or platinum powder, but many modern examples include brass, copper, or synthetic metallics. DIY kits often rely on resin and gold-colored pigments. The visual effect is similar, and the underlying idea—honoring the break—remains.

Q: Is kintsugi safe for food use?
A: Traditionally, once urushi lacquer is fully cured, it becomes hard and stable. However, food safety depends on the materials and methods used. Modern quick-fix kits may not be food-safe. If you plan to eat or drink from a repaired vessel, check the materials carefully and consult reliable health information sources such as FDA.gov or guidance from organizations like NIH for general safety standards.

Q: Are there examples of kintsugi being used in therapy or mental health work?
A: Yes. Some therapists and art therapists organize kintsugi-inspired workshops where participants repair broken ceramics or create symbolic versions of kintsugi in drawings and collages. These activities are used to talk about trauma, grief, and healing, turning the repaired object into a metaphor for personal recovery.

Q: How can I find the best examples of traditional kintsugi to study?
A: Museum collections and academic resources are your best starting points. Look for Japanese ceramics collections at major institutions, and explore online archives from museums and universities. These sources often show high-quality images of repaired tea bowls and dishes, along with historical context that explains how and why they were mended.

From a 400-year-old tea bowl to a cracked mug on your desk, examples of kintsugi: the art of repairing with gold all tell the same story: breaking is not the end. The lines of gold, whether literal or metaphorical, invite you to look at damage not as a disqualifier, but as part of the shape of your life.