The lines are broad because the ware is thick. Tobe ware is white porcelain painted in gosu, a cobalt blue, and what distinguishes it is the weight of both: thick bodies made for daily use, and brushwork wide enough to hold its own against them. The kilns are scattered across the town rather than lined up along one street, and the trade association lists more than a dozen of them, which means seeing the range takes a car or a good deal of walking.

At the creative centre visitors can try painting and throwing. Drawing gosu onto a white body yourself is the quickest way to understand the proportion: a fine line on a wall that thick simply disappears. Matsuyama is about thirty minutes away by car, there are jobs at the kilns and workshop premises for sale, so it is possible to be part of the industry while living in the city. Around the doll festival each spring an exhibition brings the kilns together, and that is the one occasion when the differences between them can be compared in a single room.

Thick ware is harder to break and heavier to carry, and a household notices the second property every day. Tobe accepted the weight because it has always made vessels that get used, washed and stacked every day, and under those conditions the trade-off is obvious. The painting followed from the body. A fine line loses against that much white and that much curvature, so the brush got wider to compensate. The character people now recognise as Tobe ware was therefore decided by how the pots would be handled in a kitchen, rather than by anyone's preference in drawing.