Japanese artist Rui Sasaki turned a public bathhouse into an art space that captures local memories with glass and plant installations.
In the quiet, historic town of Seto City, where low-rise buildings and traditional houses line the streets, one might walk past an abandoned bathhouse without a second glance. Yet behind its unassuming façade lies an unexpected treasure. As visitors step inside and allow their eyes to adjust to the dimness, they are met with a mesmerising sight: dozens of glowing green glass forms suspended from the ceiling, draped across empty bathtubs, or shaped into everyday objects like buckets and bars of soap. On closer inspection, each glass pane encases a delicate leaf or flower, some marked by the subtle wear of time—traces of erosion, dust and memory. From a distance, these fragments seem frozen in space and time, quietly breathing with the light that filters through them.
This is Unforgettable Residues (2025), an installation by Japanese artist Rui Sasaki, presented at the Aichi Triennale, which runs until November 30, 2026. In it, Sasaki transforms a disused public bathhouse into a contemplative space of light, transparency and forgotten histories, inviting viewers to reflect on the fragile connections between nature, memory and human presence.

Above Rui Sasaki with her installation ’Unforgettable Residues’, which is a bathhouse-turned-art-space in Seto City, Japan (Photo: Tatler Hong Kong)
Sasaki’s fascination with glass is deeply rooted in her early enchantment with water. As a child, she was captivated by its movement and reflective surface, and later recognised a similar quality in molten glass during a family trip to Okinawa. That moment, she recalls, was when she discovered a material that could embody ambiguity: at once solid and liquid, transparent and opaque, fragile and strong. Glass, for her, became a metaphor for the human condition—beautiful, transient and capable of preserving traces of time.
Her education at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) in the US further deepened this relationship. In Japan, glass is often approached through the lens of kogei, the tradition of craftsmanship and technical perfection. At RISD, however, Sasaki encountered glass as a conceptual medium—one capable of expressing thought and emotion rather than merely form or function. This perspective opened her practice to explorations of memory, place and narrative, transforming technical mastery into conceptual depth.
For Unforgettable Residues, Sasaki found inspiration in Nihon Kosen, a disused public bath in Seto City. The site’s history of communal bathing and daily interaction resonated deeply with her interest in the social and sensory qualities of shared spaces. Bathhouses, she says, serve as microcosms of community life, places where privacy dissolves into shared intimacy and where the residues of human presence—the warmth of water, the condensation on glass, the echo of voices—speak quietly of coexistence.
Read more: Glass art: 7 handblown glass pieces for your home

Above ‘Unforgettable Residues’ by Rui Sasaki, who turned a closed-down bathhouse into art space in Seto City, Japan (Photo: Tatler Hong Kong)

Above ‘Unforgettable Residues’ by Rui Sasaki, who turned a closed-down bathhouse into art space in Seto City, Japan (Photo: Tatler Hong Kong)
Seto’s identity as Japan’s renowned “ceramic city” also shaped the project. The region’s clay-rich soil has sustained its pottery culture for over a millennium, linking the community to its landscape in material and spiritual ways. Yet Sasaki finds that many locals had grown estranged from this natural origin. “Everyone forgets clay originally came from nature,” she says, a sentiment that became central to her installation. Unforgettable Residues seeks to make visible these invisible threads between nature, human craft and time—what she calls “the layers of hidden memories behind ceramic culture”.
In transforming the bathhouse into an art space, Sasaki repurposed window glass salvaged from abandoned homes and factories across Seto. Each sheet bears its own patina of use: dust, fingerprints, rain streaks, stickers and bird droppings—marks of daily life left suspended on the material. These traces, trapped between transparency and surface, have become witnesses to the city’s history. When fired in a kiln, the accumulated dust turns a surprising pinkish-red, producing what Sasaki describes as “the beautiful residue of time”.
Through these glass fragments, she experiences a kind of temporal displacement. “The time of window glass made is various,” she says, “and I feel that I am time-travelling through the glass.” The installation thus becomes both archaeological and poetic, inviting viewers to peer not only through but into the material, to sense the layers of existence it carries.
Read more: Wong Kar-wai meets art and heritage at Prada Rong Zhai, Shanghai’s historic mansion

Above ‘Unforgettable Residues’ by Rui Sasaki, who turned a closed-down bathhouse into art space in Seto City, Japan (Photo: Tatler Hong Kong)
Alongside glass, Sasaki integrated plants collected from around Seto, foregrounding the city’s overlooked ecological richness. Many species, she finds out, survived thanks to the peculiar relationship between humans and the ceramics industry. Wetlands once threatened by urban development remained intact because they supplied clay, while mountains denuded by clay extraction were later replanted to heal the land. Around temples and shrines, where clay-digging was forbidden, ancient flora still thrived.
The process of gathering these plants became a form of shared storytelling. One local resident guided Sasaki to the site of her long-demolished school, recounting childhood memories as they picked plants together. Such encounters transformed Unforgettable Residues into a collaborative act of remembrance, in which personal and environmental histories intertwine. The plants are not decorative but mnemonic, embodying continuity amid disappearance.
Sasaki’s artistic language is one of subtle contrasts—between the visible and the concealed, the natural and the constructed, fragility and endurance. In the bathing space, light filters through the repurposed glass panes, refracting off the surfaces of water and plant matter. The viewer’s reflection mingles with the lingering marks of others, merging past and present in a quiet choreography of transparency. This interplay captures what the artist sees as the essence of glass: its ability to record yet distort, to reveal yet withhold.
In that sense, Unforgettable Residues has extended her ongoing exploration of glass as a custodian of memory. Just as glass preserves fingerprints and breath, so too does it preserve emotion and time. The bathhouse has become a vessel of collective remembrance, where residues—of touch, of clay, of dust—formed a new kind of landscape, one not of ceramics or architecture but of traces and reflections.
Topics





