Amid the sensationalism of much contemporary art, it is refreshing to sense honest artistry in metal, clay and wood. "Thoughts on Contemporary Vessels" at the Crafts Gallery of the National Museum of Modern Art is an exhibition centered on the humble cup, bowl or jar. And it reveals crafts that are as beautiful, fresh and challenging as they can be.

Instinctively, it is easy to enjoy the work of makers who clearly delight in their chosen materials. Intellectually, the combination of artistry and utility triggers a timely debate about the direction of contemporary crafts.

It is no coincidence that the exhibition opened as the popular Japan Traditional Art Crafts exhibition started its annual tour of the country. Tens of thousands of visitors will admire the crafts displayed at the latter, an event which has done much to encourage interest in crafts. Yet there is a downside to our museum mentality, and that is the trend of many craftspeople to design for display, rather than use.

Is this a betrayal of Japan's great tradition of integrating art into daily life? Or is it simply a sign of freedom? Defenders might argue that such craft artists are breaking away from stifling traditions, where colors, forms and motifs have been recycled for too many years. Anyway, does it matter if a textile artist displays a kimono that cannot be worn? Or if a ceramic artist produces obscure "installations" rather than sake bottles?

This is a debate that William Morris would have joined in with relish. At the end of the 19th century, which was as changeable a time as our own, this champion of handiwork, beauty and utility said, "I love art, and I love history, but it is living art and living history that I love. If we have no hope for the future, I do not know how we can look back on the past with pleasure."

And that very hope and pleasure is at the heart of this exhibition.

Curator Masanori Moroyama said, "The artists range from 31 to 78 years of age. There is so much freedom here, yet at the same time a good sense of designing for contemporary life."

The variety, even within one medium such as lacquer or ceramics, reflects the profound changes Japan has undergone in a century, from a homogeneous culture to an increasingly affluent society with diverse lifestyles.

In his catalog essay, Moroyama is outspoken on the failings of craft artists who aspire to fame merely through novelty, frivolity or provocation. This trend, he claims, has lowered skills and broken the delicate connection between producer and user. Large-scale, expressionistic works may attract attention in an exhibition gallery, but where is their all-important link to life? Far from being liberating, he says, the break with tradition and all-out pursuit of diversity means that contemporary crafts "seem almost to have reached a dead end."

As an antidote, this exhibition shows people digging into the very origins of their craft -- the utilitarian vessel -- and finding a rich vein of inspiration. Bowls, vases, tables, trays: The exhibits show the artistry that can ensue when technique is mastered, tradition respected, and imagination engaged.

The first and second galleries show vessels that conform to tradition in terms of materials and methods, as well as the very free forms of craft artists who have taken wing.

"A Small, Little Thing," bronze box by Koji Hatakeyama

Metalwork is not always the most appealing of crafts, but here there is a tantalizing range of textures and forms. The bronze boxes of Koji Hatakeyama sit, as their name says, "doing little," yet they contain and emit mystery, like the monoliths of Stonehenge. Then there are rippling silver vases by Yukie Osumi, and deliciously glossy dishes by Yasuki Hiramatsu.

Two iron kettles by Morihisa Suzuki convey a satisfying sense of their own weight yet their form is extremely elegant. Their dignified patina and restrained decoration, like the hailstone ornament on a sake bottle, brings out the ancient warmth of the iron.

Contrast this treatment to the brittle brilliance of Masafumi Sekine's tin plates. Although his style has flown away from tradition, there is the same fascination for the metal itself, and the same dedication to exploring its qualities. One can almost hear the fire roar and the patient mallet tapping away to create these kettles, bowls and plates.

Incidentally, Suzuki is the descendant of a long line of metal casters, while Sekine is a respected jewelry designer.

Wine glasses and decanter, by Shizuho Funaki

Glass is a relatively new material in Japanese crafts, and Ruri Iwata studied metal casting for lack of a specific course in glass. However, anyone who has seen a craft artist take a dollop of glass out of the furnace will know that it has similar qualities to molten metal, before it sets into cold fragility. Here, Iwata's flower vases are neither cold nor fragile. Instead, they capture the fluid glass in continual, beautiful motion. Her large vase is sculptural, with hints of nature in the abstract, such a fundamental aspect of Japanese art.

The most ancient crafts of ceramics and lacquer are also strong features of this exhibition. Ceramic fans will find ashy, rough-textured Bizen ware by Kosuke Kaneshige, witty, splashy blue-and-white plates by experimentalist Satoshi Sato, and cookie-textured Shino and Oribe dishes by Osamu Suzuki that look good enough to eat. The matte-black ceramic vases of Rokubei Kiyomizu VII are intriguing, and somewhat unnerving. They hint of the epic journeys that many of these artists undertake to reach the heart of their craft. Taizo Kuroda's unglazed white porcelain vase is superb; a timeless, serene piece with the natural loveliness of a bird's egg or a seashell washed thin by the ocean.

Then there is the lacquer. Stark, noble, and banded with metal, Isaburo Kado's stacking lacquer boxes are as simple as Shaker work, with equally compelling depths. Kado was born in the lacquer town of Wajima, on the windswept Noto Peninsula. These contemporary boxes spring from the old skill of applying multiple layers of lacquer, while his soup bowls and tray are rougher, revealing drips of lacquer and the underlying grain of the wood.

In contrast, the bowls of Mutsumi Suzuki are like deep pools glimmering in moonlight. The restrained richness of his work speaks of his Kyoto heritage and interest in creating wares for the tea ceremony. A set of five bowls in deep red with a subtle design of cherry blossoms tread a delicate path between familiarity and surprise. The lilting movement of his sake cups, trays and large bowl in black Akebono ware make one want to pick them up.

That, after all, is the essence of living crafts. Not to keep them in a museum, but to hold them in our hands and touch the mystery of art wrought from earth, wind and fire.