Pen & Design

Design The Pilot Vanishing Point is designed with a staid focus on functionality. There’s a brass body, a solid ‘clicker’, and - most controversially - a clip at the top of the body, right near the nib. I found the Matte Black Vanishing Point to be a stunning edition, but your view of the pen and its colour schemes may very well depend on your taste in design. The satiny finish on the Matte Black Vanishing Point also adds to its sophistication, and makes it appealing to hold and use to write. Yet the special finish on the pen is also severely flawed in its implementation: the Matte Black finish has a tendency to scratch off easily, and leave noticeable lacerations exposing the brass body. I don’t yet know if Pilot has a solution to this issue, and will update this review if they contact me  or if I come across any more information.

The weight and feel of the Vanishing Point are hard to fault. The heaviness of the brass body will likely appeal to many, and while some have said that the weight distribution - which favours the front end of the pen - means that the nib is likely to get damaged if the pen should fall, I can’t critique Pilot’s design choices in heaviness and feel. I’ve tried many Pilot pens, and they’re all designed in a way that values the feel of a pen when in one’s hand. They’ve got this down to a science.

The VP uses a standard proprietary Pilot-Namiki cartridge, and can also be used with a converter. For a while, I thought that my pen or converter was leaky, but this doesn’t appear to be the case anymore. The ink cartridge is relatively capacious.

The clip of the Pilot Vanishing Point is, surprisingly, the most controversial aspect of the pen. It is located at the top of the pen, right under the face of the nib. This makes holding - and writing with - the pen different, and, depending on your style of writing or level of fatigue, difficult. While many, including myself, adapt their writing grip so as to be able to use the VP, it’s far more uncomfortable than a normal pen would be when in use. Sometimes I decide not to use the VP simply because using it would give me a particularly exhausting cramp. This is the VP’s greatest flaw, yet also one which could be easily corrected if Pilot released a clipless model. I’m not sure why they haven’t done so already. I would near-immediately buy one if they did.

Writing and Functionality The Vanishing Pint features a custom partially-hooded 18K gold nib available in a range of colours and sizes. Interestingly, you can often order an entire nib unit for about half the retail price of the pen, allowing you to switch colours and writing qualities when you so choose. I chose a Medium nib with my pen, and was not disappointed: the nib is smooth, and writes consistently. It is also springier than many other nibs in the price range, which adds some character. Apart from this spring, the Vanishing Point nib is pretty standard, and equally hard to fault as the weight and feel of the pen. It has little tooth, and does not glide across the page as other pens sometimes do.

Yet it’s precisely this docility that makes the nib so well-suited to such a variety of writers. You might want Pilot to add some characteristics to the nib and its writing quality, but you’d be hard-pressed to suggest an aspect that should be removed or subtracted. Once again, it feels like Pilot has this down to a science, all encapsulated in a formula that it can - and does - follow to create a well-writing nib.

Disconcertingly, I did find that sometimes, the tines seem to overlap one another and create a weird clicking sound. This often remedied itself, however, and when it does arise while writing, I just keep on writing until it goes away. The Vanishing Point handles most inks well, and, as I mentioned before, while I did sometimes find ink stains from apparent leaking between the cartridge/converter and nib unit, the pen never leaked ink from the nib or seams between the two halves of the body. The VP actually has a trap door mechanism for guarding the nib when retracted.

It’s obvious that a lot of work and, just as importantly, refinement went into creating a retractable mechanism that allowed the Vanishing Point to be used as a normal ballpoint pen. This is where Pilot’s work yields its greatest results. The Vanishing Point has an excellent feel and solid writing quality, but the ability to be used and clicked into action with one hand, and to be operated without the constant fear of losing a cap provides the Vanishing Point with one advantage that few other pens can claim to posses: true portability. The Vanishing Point just needs a pocket into which it can be clipped. From there, it can be pulled out with a single hand and clicked into use. While the care that must be taken to prevent the Matte Black model from scratching and losing its matte black finish counters this portability (I sometimes carry it in a pen case, which means I need a second hand to pull it out or put it back), I’m impressed by what the retractable features of this pen allow it to accomplish. The Vanishing Point’s suitability as a daily carry pen is a significant draw, and one which provides the portability of a ballpoint with the writing experience of a fountain pen.

The M1 is a calculated and thoughtful interpretation of the modern watch. Designed by Frank Nuovo, almost every aspect of the timepiece bears a certain sophistication and complexity. This is immediately evident upon opening up the packaging and observing the polished casing complete with six buttons (each with its own ornamentation), a set of rotating lugs, and glass screen under which the bezel and black-and-white display. This is a watch you’ll be proud to wear, and it really doesn’t conform to any design style I’ve seen yet. It’s at once a throwback to the first digital watches, a small microcosm of the luxury materials (styles range from rose gold and crocodile straps to a stunning brown leather combination), and an evolution of Nuovo’s previous work. Meta has radically changed nearly every element from their previous work. The pixels are no longer reflective, and are of a higher resolution. The available colour options are attractive and diverse. The metal casing is heavy and feels solid. The glass is flush with the bezel. Even the charging clip has been improved. I'm shocked at how much the watch has changed within a single year; most standard technology simply iterates year-over-year; last year’s MetaWatches are simply not comparable to this year’s model.

The Meta’s battery life is similarly spectacular. I might be idiosyncratic, but I tend to sync my watches with my phone once every few days, the leave the Bluetooth off. The M1 lasts between two and three weeks with this configuration, and gives about a day's worth of warning before it runs out of battery. The battery should last between three and five days for those using it with Bluetooth on a daily basis.

The M1 is compatible with iOS and Android, and the app is well-made. It is clear that Meta has put a lot of thought into the applications, and they allow for a seamless connection to be made between watch and phone (or tablet). One of my favourites features is how the watch vibrates to let you know when it has been disconnected.

The operating system behind the M1 is unlike anything I've ever seen on a watch, with perhaps the exception of the original MetaWatch. Unlike other smart watches, I haven't heard any plans for an app store, though developers are free to experiment with the watch as they please. Rather, Meta had focused on creating and curating their own selection of miniature 'programs' and watch faces. The watch faces range from replicating the rounds shape  of a dress watch to displaying a digital read-out of the time with the silhouetted skyline of a city in the background. My favourite face was simply a readable, digital display rendered in a fantastic font. I'd love to see over-the-air updates include new watch faces (such as classic world skylines for the silhouette face, and some more minimalist time readouts). Speaking of updates, the Meta M1 app is able to deliver them to the watch wirelessly in a matter of minutes. This allows for iterative updates fixing bugs and adding new features to be easily transmitted, and I hope to see it used to good effect.

The M1 also has a small suite of mini-apps that allow for quick and generally practical functions of be accomplished. There is a Bluetooth music control program, and a small timer. There is a a weather app and a useful calendar app. Pleasantly, most of these apps can be modified to look or work differently, often containing an array of screens and functions. The Meta is easy to operate, and I found screens like the calendar view to be genuinely useful. The weather app images were also gorgeous, although I'd really prefer if it were able to display the temperature in degrees Celsius (I always get excited when I think that Canada is suddenly warmer than usual; the frequent snowfall outside brings me back to reality).The M1 notification system is also well thought-out. A notification on your phone or tablet yields small vibration and screen on the watch. It doesn't incessantly beep or bother you, but rather presents itself once, discreetly.

Little details about the M1 indicate how much attention has gone into the watch. This is absolutely a product for those looking for a smartwatch that is closer to a timepiece than a miniature computer. The build quality is equivalent to that of many similar-priced watches, and far beyond most smartphones and other gadgets.

Seemingly minuscule features like the glaze-like polish of the case, and the manipulable lugs elevate the style and finesse of the M1 far past most other watches - smart or not! - in the price category. Frank Nuovo's refined style coupled with Bill Geiser's prescient vision results in a watch which, in my opinion, will eventually be seen as the first smartwatch worth collecting as a 'vintage', and allows a glimpse of what tomorrow's personalized technology sector will be able to offer. The M1 is one of my favourite daily-wear watches; when I reviewed the Strata, I said I was excited for what came next. With the M1, my feelings have changed. I don't know what's next for Meta, but that's ok: I'm delighted with what they have available right now. The Meta M1 is the first classic smartwatch.

Aesthetically, the Vac is in keeping with TWSBI's 'flagship' pen series, the Diamond piston-fillers. The pen features translucent plastic with added visual weight provided by polished chrome accents. Interestingly, the cap of the pen is made of matte steel, unlike the rest of the glossy, bright cap and knob additions. The pen is also pretty large, and hosts one of the largest nibs I've ever seen (apart from the Montblanc 149 and Danitrio nibs, whose respective widths are commensurate to their size and design language). The TWSBI's silhouette is also distinct, as the faceted cap is punctuated by a large, glossy, ring-like centre band. The body of the pen gently slopes inward until the faceted, geometric piston knob is introduced by another, slimmer chrome ring. The design isn't minimalist, but it is far from ostentatious either. It's big, bold, and features an eclectic mix of design elements. I quite liked the smoke grey plastic that I purchased the pen with, yet I'm equally inclined to recommend the crystal-clear demonstrator model, just so you can better see the ink contained inside. All of the Vac's colour options are translucent, and let you see how much ink is stored within, so you really can't go wrong with any option. If I do have one reservation, however, it's that the steel accents trigger a terrible allergy for me (due to their nickel content, I'm assuming). While the Vac isn't the only pen that causes this reaction, TWSBI is the one of the most receptive companies in the pen business, and I really, really hope they introduce a ruthenium, titanium, PVD, or hypo-allergenic option. A black finish would be particularly fantastic if coupled with the smoke colourway. 

The Vac is a reliable writer that provides a consistent and moderate flow. While I've seen many pine for flex-nibbed TWSBIs, or custom nibs that are unique, I'm satisfied by the integrity of the nib. It writes, and it always seems to write well. There's little springiness or variation in flow, and while doesn't lend any character to the nib, it also prevents from a spotty, sporadic flow. At times there were problems getting the TWSBI to start and write, but once I learned to leave the blind cap open, they were all immediately remedied.The nib itself features the TWSBI logo with some accentuation, and I'm partial to its polish and size.  

TWSBI also has one of the best customer service departments/policies in the stationery industry. The cap on my Vac broke a little while ago, and they were quick and gracious in immediately offering to ship me another one. Likewise, when they changed the nibs from Bock to Jowo in late 2012, TWSBI didn't just offer to sell the new nibs, or even exchange them with customers, but provided the second nib to early adopters free of charge and - for a short time - decided to sell the pen with both nibs.

The Eclipse watch case is moderately sized, in both face size and thickness. I think that most people will be able to wear this watch without finding it too small or too large - especially when compared to the influx of massive modern watches. The Eclipse case is made of aluminium, and feels sharply crafted. While I'm partial to the matte black PVD coating of the Black model, I like the 'raw' finish of the Snow model's casing, too. The Eclipse also has a replaceable strap; the included silicone strap works just fine, but if you want to change the strap (hint: I think a leather band would look fantastic on the Snow model), you do have options.

The Eclipse's watch face design is inspired by, well, an eclipse, with a black center being surrounded by a blue or white circular outline above which the hour and minute hands rotate. At first, the hands may be difficult to read: it often took a few seconds of looking at the watch to prompt my memory and remind me that the black hand was the hour hand, and the white hand was the minute hand. Nonetheless, reading the watch grew easier, and I began to become accustomed to its way of telling time. One aspect of the watch that particularly intrigued me was how a lack of any markers made telling time a cerebral process. It was quietly exciting to realize that I could sometimes discern the time to within a minute, even without any lines or markings to indicate the exact position of the hands. Even more rewarding, however, was how the watch treated the very concept of time. The Eclipse is not a watch that should be used to ascertain time with millisecond-based precision. Instead, its lack of temporal resolution almost seemed to highlight the vagueness and subjectivity of time, or at least how we perceive it to transpire. Instead of it being 21:36:01, it was 9:35-ish. The Eclipse was precise enough to be able to determine the time to within 5 minutes, and that, I found, was just fine for everyday usage. The uniqueness of the Eclipse's time-telling was one of its most endearing aspects.

One of the Eclipse's signature features is its luminescence. The Eclipse uses Super-LumiNova pigment, a common lume applicant that has a long lifespan and is charged by artificial or natural light. While the lume on the Eclipse is bright after being exposed to a direct source of light, like a bright light or outdoor glare, I found that - when I forgot to consciously 'charge' it - the hands could sometimes be difficult to read, simply because it was difficult to distinguish where the hour and minute hands were on the face. An LED backlight that could have been activated via a button or accelerometer may have been a possibility, but, realistically, would have added extra thickness and been unnecessary.

I really liked the design of the ZIIIRO Eclipse. Similarly, I was impressed with the minimalist and sharp styling of the casing and face. I know that the Eclipse might not appear to traditional watch purists, but its design is truly unique and beautifully minimalist. I'm impressed with what ZIIIRO has been able to craft - both in terms of the design of the watch face and execution of the actual casing - and look forward to seeing what their future holds. The Eclipse won't be easy to (ahem) eclipse.

 Martin's pens can be viewed here. Martin's other urushi works would also interest those who enjoy urushi wares.

What is urushi, and what can it be painted on? How long does it take to create an urushi pen? 

Urushi is a precious natural material and the most important material in Japan lacquer art.

Only 150 g of sap can be collected from each mature lacquer tree over ten years old. In comparison to the world’s annual yield of diamonds which is about 30 tons, only 1.5 tons of the highest quality Japanese urushi can be obtained in a year.

Urushi is very robust. An urushi-coated bowl can withstand the extreme temperatures of being used for hot soup every day. Its chemical resistance is also so high that even aqua regalis (nitrohydrochloric acid), which melts gold, cannot erode it. Urushi has a hardness of 6 on the Mohs scale, which is the same as that of glass. Lacquer-ware pieces have been found that date back 7000 years. The fact that they survived shows how durable urushi is.

In Japan, urushi is derived from Rhus vernicifera tree. Urushi differs from other varnishes and paint media in that it sets much harder and is resistant to abrasion, all common solvents, and even high concentrations of acid. These properties have led to its use as a decorative and protective coating on a wide range of artistic and utilitarian objects, as well as on architectural structures.

It can be successfully applied to a variety of substrates, including ebonite, wood, metal, basketry, leather and textiles, and can be built up into layers of sufficient thickness for carving. Urushi does not dry in the air as other lacquers do, but hardens under moist and warm conditions. Therefore urushi artists use a drying chamber - a 'furô' - with a constant temperature of 25 to 28°C and humidity of 65 to 80%.

Coloured urushi is made by the addition of finely ground pigments, but until the 19th century the palette was limited by the fact that urushi reacts with the majority of pigments and turns black or grey.

Before c. 1840 the main pigments used in urushi ware were 'shû' cinnabar for red, orpiment for yellow, and lampblack or iron salts for black. Azurite was occasionally used for blue and indigo for a darker blue. A mixture of indigo and orpiment or gamboge was used to make green.

A red or reddish yellow was sometimes prepared from an extract of afflower and a brownish red from red ochre. Brown is made by mixing a lower proportion of cinnabar with the urushi, although with Rhus a deep, lustrous brown can be produced simply by using multiple layers of lacquer.

In the late Edo period the Japanese broadened the palette by developing several new colours or shades, including a good white, which was made by mixing the finest transparent urushi with ground shells or lead white.

A wide variety of techniques and materials are utilized in the manufacture of urushi ware, but since the majority of techniques differ only in their final finish, they are usually treated in eight major groups: carved, incised, inlaid, sprinkled, painted, dry, moulded and gilt. Two or more techniques may be used on the same object, for example shell inlay may be combined with carved urushi or hardstone and bone with painted or gilt urushi.

All of these techniques, with the exception of dry urushi, are mostly carried out on wooden substrates. However, metal can be decorated with painted, carved or inlaid urushi, leather with painted and overlaid urushi and basketry with painted, overlaid or moulded urushi. The durability and finish of urushi ware is dependent on the quality and preparation of the substrate, and it is this more than any other factor that determines the quality of the finished product.

To produce the finest fountain pens many stages of coating and polishing may be required, with a drying period of one to five days between each one. 

Urushi lacquering rough steps include:

1. Suikomidome: raw urushi, called 'seshime urushi', is applied on the ebonite body

2. Suikomidome: a second layer of raw urushi ('seshime urushi') is applied on the ebonite body

3. Shitanuri: the first layer of black 'nakanuri urushi' lacquer is applied with a brush evenly on the surface, then dried in the furo for 48 hours

4. Shitanuri-togi: the surface is smoothed with fine charcoal

5. Nakanuri: the 3rd, 4th, and 5th processes are repeated

6. Uwanuri: a layer of 'kuro roiro urushi' (high quality urushi) is applied with a brush, then dried in the furo for 24 hours

7. Uwanuri-togi: the surface is ground and flattened with charcoal and water

8. Uwanuri: the 6th and 7th processes are repeated twice more

9. Roiro sumitogi: the surface is smoothed with fine charcoal and water

10. Dôzuri: the surface is smoothed by polishing it with a polishing paste (a mixture of oil and tonoko [clay]) powder using a soft cloth

11. Roiro migaki: 'uwazuri' of the highest quality, and transparent 'Kijômi-urushi' are rubbed on the surface, and wiped off with a special paper before being dried in the furo for 24 hours

12. This process is repeated five to eight times

13. Roiro-migaki: rapeseed oil and finest polishing powder 'migako' polishing powder are used to micro-polish the surface with the artisan's finger tips

14. Roiro migaki: 'uwazuri' of the highest quality, and transparent 'Kijômi-urushi' are rubbed on the surface, and wiped off with a special paper before being dried in the furo for 24 hours 

15. Roiro-migaki: rapeseed oil and finest polishing powder 'migako' polishing powder are used to micro-polish the surface with the artisan's finger tips

16. Roiro migaki: 'uwazuri' of the highest quality, and transparent 'Kijômi-urushi' are rubbed on the surface, and wiped off with a special paper before being dried in the furo for 24 hours

17. Roiro-migaki: a hard polish is finally accomplished with 'migako' and polishing using the palms of the artisan's hands, or soft deer skin

To make a urushi pen as described above in my atelier in Switzerland takes me personally one month.

How durable is urushi? 

Urushi is a very durable material. Well-preserved objects have been excavated in tombs several thousand years old. Urushi is resistant against almost all well-known acids and caustic solutions. It withstands temperatures up to 300 °C.

How can one take care of an urushi pen, and can an urushi pen be used on a daily basis (or does UV radiation and skin oil cause staining and discolouration)?

A urushi pen can be used daily. Urushi must not be cleaned with cleaning solution or wiped with oils. The oil of the writer's hand will build a patina over the time that helps to protect the urushi surface and to make the urushi much more beautiful.

In Japanese aesthetic world there is an important term called 'Yo no bi' , or "beauty through use." It is a term that is often heard in the Japanese art world. A lacquer dish comes alive when food is placed within its boundaries. The beauty of a lacquer bowl is most clearly seen when filled with misô soup or white rice.

Among connoisseurs of 'negoro mono', Yô no bi is an important aspect describing the beauty that appears on a red lacquered object which, after many years of use, has a red top coat that is worn down to reveal the black colour under the coat.

The same concept is true with urushi pens. With years of use, it will gain beauty, elegance and - since colors change through the years - its colors will become more transparent and intense.

A urushi pen should not be exposed to intensive light too often because the pigments can fade (as on any other lacquer or paint). Oil paintings are also not recommended to be exposed to intensive light.

Are there different quality urushi and maki-e products available?

Urushi is not urushi.

There are indeed different qualities of lacquer wares on the market.

Traditionally lacquer process is very time consuming and therefore costly.

During the Moromachi Ara (14th to 16th century) an export trade was developed to produce export lacquer objects, 'Namban-mono', for European traders and customers (especially to Portugal and the Netherlands). Even from that time, Europeans weren't willing to pay the price for high quality lacquer, and Japanese artisans thus developed new techniques to shorten working time and lower prices.

For example, instead of a traditional foundation that includes many steps of application, drying and grinding a thick layer of pig blood foundation was applied as used in China. Instead of many layers of high quality urushi, only a few were used, or oils and other substances were mixed into urushi to shorten the time used for working and drying.

Even today this trend is going on. Cheap dark Chinese urushi is used, and made more transparent by mixing in chemicals. In some industries and trades, urushi is diluted with chemicals and sprayed on products with the effect that the surface does not need to be polished. Also, cheap maki-e is produced using silk-screen printing methods.

And many "secret" ways have been developed to make things cheaper. I have always wondered how pen manufacturers can make a polished black "roiro shiage" pen with gold nib for $ 550.-, while pens with some of the most simple techniques like "ishimeji" stone surface cost more. Roiro is considered "the" most complex, time consuming and labor intensive urushi technique of all techniques.

However, there might be no visual difference at first sight between a traditionally and semi-industrialized urushi product and we have to leave it over to the consumer to decide what he or she is willing to pay for, and I hope the information provided here will help collectors of urushi fountain pens to think and reflect about plausibility and truth of information, price, and quality.

Take into consideration that Japan is a highly developed industrial nation with taxes, duties, regulations and wages similar to Switzerland, far higher than those of USA or even Germany.

I've heard of two idiosyncratic aspects of urushi pens, the first of which is an urushi rash. What is this rash, and are urushi pen users likely to be affected?

Fortunately, I don't have any problems with urushi rash but it is said that 80% of humans react to urushiol with varying levels of rashes. I have fellow lacquer artists in Japan who told me about their problems when they started their apprenticeship as urushishi. Some suffered rashes a few months, and some were affected several years later.

But it is important to note that urushi rash is caused by liquid lacquer. Once urushi is dried/cured/hardened properly after a few months, it is completely safe. In Japan, urushi is applied on almost everything from kitchen ware, soup bowls, dishes, PC mouses, iPhone covers, music instruments, wallets, belts, buckles, pens, etc.

Once dry, urushi is said to have antiseptic effect. In China, urushi has been applied on the walls of drinking water cisterns since ancient times due to its sterilizing effect.

A urushi rash is not life-threatening. Rash mostly cause small blisters, which disappear after a few days. Of course, it is recommended that one does no scratch. After working with urushi all day long, I clean my hands with acetone, and I cannot remember one instance in which my family or someone among my friends has suffered a rash from a handshake or so.

If you get a little rash, it is considered a blessing in Japan.

I've also heard that urushi pens change in colour and shade as time passes. Is this true?

Correct. As time passes, urushi becomes more bright and transparent. As described earlier, as per 'Yô no bi', even the highest quality 'roiro' black urushi blackened with iron oxide changes to a slightly brownish tone, while black pigmented urushi changes less.

What is your personal favourite urushi or maki-e design?

I work with urushi daily, and also constantly experiment with old and new urushi techniques. But for me, the most beautiful lacquer techniques are still the simple glossy black 'roiro shiage' and red & black 'negoro nuri'.

A bit of a personal question, but one urushi technique/colour that I have always been enamoured with is the tamenuri finish. How are layered finishes like tamenuri created?

Tame-nuri is a technique often used on table ware. It is a transparent so called "nuritate" finish in which "Shûai urushi" is applied on a colored urushi surface without polishing. "Shûai urushi" is a high quality lacquer mixed with oil for making the urushi more liquid and easier to distribute with a brush. Since it is not polished, this final layer has to become smooth without "nuri ashi" brush marks and inclusions. After filtering and application, the urushi artisan picks out dust and other small remains with a "fushiagebô" a bamboo stick to make the layer flawless.

Mostly we see red tamenuri which is a transparent "shuai urushi" applied on a red "suû nakanuri" intermediate coat.

Traditionally, black urushi was also achieved by mixing with black ink.

I have personally mixed urushi with colored inks like red, yellow, blue and purple. This is possible if the color pigments of the specific ink are accepted by the very aggressive urushi. Most of the known pigments today turn black if mixed with urushi.