Japan – America Society of the State of Washington celebrated its centennial anniversary on November 28. For that occasion, I was asked to make a large ikebana arrangement to welcome guests at the entrance.
The first thing I decided was the colors of the flowers I would use – no other than bright red and snowy white! The only two colors to represent Japan’s national flag. At the wholesale flower shop, a bunch of amaryllis, just about to bloom. That’s it for the red! For the white, I chose orchid and baby breath.
The next step was to select the vase. The round container with a smaller mouth. With this shape of the vase, you can place two long branches to cross each other inside it, enabling a large structure.
The photo above shows when I placed two long branches in the round vase. Both branches are dry, and I spray-painted one of them for a change. These dry branches come in handy when creating a large structure, so I keep them in the garage. My husband thinks I hoard so much junk in the garage. Well, honey, somebody’s junk is a treasure for somebody else.
The arrangement was well received at the celebration party. I really liked it too, so when I brought it home I rearranged it, took a photo, and also made this year’s greeting card.
Finally, the whole process of Yuzen 友禅 kimono dyeing process was complete. Now time to sew both the kimono and the obi.
Mamiya-san, my kimono retailer, said that ideally I should see the final status of the kimono and obi fabric before they were sewn respectively. He also told me it would take about a month to complete sewing. I couldn’t stay in Japan that long, so I asked him to go ahead and start sewing.
Please make sure that both the kimono and the obi are completed by the time I go back to Japan. Then I can bring them back to Seattle. He agreed. At least Mamiya-san sent me photos of the kimono fabric hung from the Iko and placed my obi on top of it.
So here is the final kimono and obi.
What do you think? Do I look fine? I’m just honored to be wearing this piece of art. So many craftspeople were involved in making it. So much love and devotion are poured into it.
This is the end of We Love Kimono Project. Thank you for reading till the end. I’m not sure if or when I can have my kimono and obi made in this process again. I know for sure, that I will cherish this jewelry of silk.
The dyeing process is over, but the Yuzen 友禅process is not complete yet, said Mamiya-san, my kimono retailer. What else is there, you may wonder. So did I.
…
According to Kosaka-san, the kimono maker, there are two more processes. One is Kinsai 金彩, and the other is Shishu 刺繍.
Kinsai 金彩 literally means decoration with gold. On top of the design colored with Yuzen resist dyeing, a craftsman applies ultra-thin gold film or paste mixed with fine gold powder. Nowadays, not only gold but silver, platinum, and other metalic colors are added.
Shishu 刺繍 is a Japanese word for embroidery.
Both Kinsai and Shishu add three-dementional aspect to the colorful but flat design of Yuzen dyeing. If you fill with too much Kinsai and shishu, however, the design will lose its original elegance and turn to a flamboyant but ungraceful pattern.
Where to apply Kinsai and Shishu, how much, and how, so that the design achieves the ultimate depth without losing its elegance… every Yuzen kimono maker strives for the perfect combination.
Kosaka-san’s choice was to add some silver paste and embroidery with silver thread on top of the Islamic design. Culculating how the light reflects on the kimono design when worn, he knows exactly which part should be decorated with such shiny objects.
There is no manual, textbook, or algorithm for this work. I doubt if Artificial Intelligence can ever perfect this work.
Mamiya-san told me that this design on the photo is not the actual design that will be on my kimono. When Kosaka-san dyed the kimono fabric, he drew the same design on the edge of the kimono fabric, which usually has some buffer in length.
Knowing this edge will be cut off and not used when the kimono is finally sewn, Kosaka-san is using this pattern as a place where he can experiment. The final design shown on the kimono may be slightly different from this, said Mamiya-san.
…
By the way, did you notice that the kimono fabric has fine stripes across it? This fabric type is called ro絽. After every odd number of weft, like 3, 5, or 7, two warp threads are crossed over, creating small gaps between the weft.
The summer in Japan is hot and humid. You want the fabric to be as airy as possible. Ro is one of the solutions for keeping you cooler.
Jizome 地染, the process of dyeing the kimono fabric with the base color, is complete. The Fuse-nori 伏糊, the paste applied onto the designs to resist the base color to penetrate the fabric, has been washed away. The Itome 糸目, the finely drawn design, is still intact on the fabric. At this stage, the craftsman moves on to the next step: Irosashi色挿し.
Irosashi 色挿し
Iro 色means colors. Sashi 挿しmeans to apply. In this process, the craftsman directly applies different colors of dye onto the fabric using small brushes. Bordered by Itome, one color is not mixed with the neighboring color. Like freehand painting, the number of colors to be used is almost limitless. That’s the distinct characteristics of Tegaki Yuzen 手描き友禅.
With the medashi of my obi right next to the Itome design of the kimono fabric, the Yuzen craftsman decides which color to apply where.
Depending upon the size of the area, s/he uses different sizes and shapes of the brush. For creating gradation, s/he uses a flat-tip brush. Since this Islamic Flower design is so fine, the craftsman mainly uses brushes with pointed tips.
Once the irosashi 色挿し is complete, the fabric is again steamed and then rinsed with water. This time Itome is washed away along with the excess dye. The lines created with Itome are now shown in white.
I placed the photo of the medashi of my obi (left) and the one of the Yuzen pattern of my kimono (right) next to each other. The shape of the design and the color gradation are almost identical, but the outer circle is more prominent on the kimono fabric. This subtle difference gives the illusion that the two designs are somewhat different whereas harmony is still maintained. Very cool, Kosaka-san. I like the way it turned out.
Once the Itome-oki 糸目置 is complete, the craftsman moves on to the process called fuse-nori 伏糊.
Fuse-nori is a mixture of sticky rice, rice bran, salt, and water. Its texture is thick like a paste. The craftsman applies the fuse-nori evenly to cover the whole area where the Itome-oki, the paste-dyeing, is done.
S/he then sprinkles sawdust on the fuse-nori. The covered area with fuse-nori and the sawdust is left intact when the rest of the fabric is dyed with the basic color.
Jizome地染: Dyeing the basic color
The next step is to dye the fabric with the base color. This is called 地染jizome.
The standard length of a kimono fabric is about 12 – 13 meters, or forty feet. The craftsman first clamps both ends of the fabric and hangs it across. A very long room is needed for this process.
S/he places bamboo sticks in an arch shape across the short side of the fabric, so that the tension of the sticks keeps the fabric straight. About two hundred sticks are used. Once the fabric is hung long with its surface stretched flat, it’s ready to spread the dye.
Using a flat brush, the craftsman swiftly spreads the dye so that the color is spread evenly all through the fabric. Mamiya-san’s design has this river-like flow. The craftsman implements a special technique called bokashi暈しto shade off the wisteria color at the border.
Both spreading the dye evenly across the long fabric and shading off the color naturally require a high level of skills, acquired only with experience.
The craftsman spreads the dye on both the front and the back side of the fabric. On the back side, you can see the bamboo sticks spreading the fabric with the tension.
Mushi 蒸し：Steaming
Once the basic color is applied, the fabric is left to dry. Then the fabric is folded loosely and put into a small enclosure where it is steamed at a high temperature for twenty to fifty minutes. The darker the color, the longer it takes to steam. This way the color of the dye seeps into the yarns of the fabric thoroughly.
Mizumoto 水元 : Rinsing off with water
Once the fabric is steamed, it’s time to wash away the excessive dye and fuse-nori.
In the old days, one would see kimono craftspeople washing their kimono in the Kamo River and other rivers around Kyoto.
Contamination of the river water, however, became a major concern. In 1971 washing out the kimono fabric on the river water was completely banned. Yuzen makers had to create an alternative method.
The photo above shows how the washing-out process is carried out today. Kyoto has abundant underground water. Now the water is pumped through the well into an indoor pool. The water used to wash the kimono fabric is treated before it flows back into the wastewater system.
With the Medashi of my Obi complete, Kosaka-san, the kimono maker using Tegaki Yuzen, a hand-dyeing method, started his work of making my kimono.
Tegaki Yuzen 手描き友禅 is a resist-dyeing technique that became fashionable at the end of the seventeenth century in Japan. Applying paste dye directly to fabric to prevent color transfer to other areas, Yuzen technique enables freehand designs with multiple colors.
Sketch the Design
The first step is to sketch a design on the white fabric using aobana ink. Extracted from commelina communis, also known as Asiatic dayflower, aobana ink is soluble in water. The two photos above are Kosaka-san’s sketches on the kimono fabric.
Following the Islamic Flower design of Katsuyama-san’s medashi of my Obi, Kosaka-san adds his own interpretation to the Yuzen design.
It may not be obvious from the photos above, but did you notice that the white fabric is already sewn together?
Kimono fabric is long and narrow. It is cut into eight pieces and sewn together in the shape of a kimono. The design pattern of a Homongi runs through different pieces. In order to make sure that the design patterns align perfectly across the different fabric parts, the eight pieces are temporarily stitched together before sketching the design. After the sketch with aobana ink is done, the pieces are disassembled and stitched back together to the original long, narrow shape.
The sketch with aobana ink is complete. Kosaka-san disassembled and stitched back the kimono fabric into the long narrow shape.
Itome-oki 糸目置
The next step is to directly place paste dye on the lines of the aobana ink sketch.
Similar to how a baker uses a pastry bag to decorate a cake, the craftsman squeezes the paste dye out of the nozzle. The very small nozzle makes it possible to dye very thin lines with precision. Unlike aobana ink, the paste dye is, literally, dye. It can’t be washed away once placed on the fabric. One fumble can mess up the whole thing.
It requires years of practice to squeeze out paste dye in a consistent way to dye such fine lines. This process is called 糸目置Itome-oki. Itome means “thread pattern,” depicting the very fine lines like a thread. This is the most distinctive feature of Yuzen technique.
In response to Dancing Elephants Press Prompt week 51/52
“What is your name?” “My name is Akemi.”
In Japanese, however, the question doesn’t end there. Always there is a second question: “How is your name written?”
The Japanese input method editor I use on my computer lists the following different combinations for a name “Akemi.”
明美, 昭美, 朱美, 暁美, 曙覧, 朱海, 明見, 曙美, 朱実, 明海, 曙海, 朱見…
The list is not exhausted, but is only of examples of how “Akemi” is commonly written.
That’s because there are many Kanji characters with different meanings that are pronounced the same way. Depending upon which Kanji character is used, the meaning of the name is different.
Let’s break down my name… It’s Ake + Mi. The first part has one Kanji character, and the second has another.
Ake 明 … This character means bright.
Mi 美… This character means beautiful.
Yes, my name literally means “bright and beautiful.”
Although my name was not that unusual, whenever I was asked to explain how my name is writen in Kanji characters. I always had to answer with sarcasm. Who would introduce oneself as “I’m bright and beautiful?”
Do I live up to my name? I don’t know. But at least I’m assured that my parents had some kind of expectation of me…
In early August 2020. Mamiya-san, my kimono retailer, received a “medashi 芽出し” from Katsuyama-san, the Obi maker. What is it? I had no clue.
Medashi is a trial sample that an obi maker weaves. Before making the complete obi, the maker weaves the main design pattern using the sample yarns. This way, any further requests or changes from the customer can be reflected in the course.
Mamiya-san tried to snail mail the medashi to me just like he did with the base color sample of the kimono fabric. (See We Love Kimono Project 3). However, due to the worsening pandemic, all the airmail from Japan to the US was suspended. Surface mail would take three or more months. We had no choice but to fall back on relying on digital photos this time.
The photo above is a close-up of the medashi. I noticed some light pink and gold colors were included together with the wisteria blue that was used as the anchor color. Starting in the center of the Islamic Flower design, different patterns radiated one after another. The yarn of the raised part looked thicker than the recessed part, but can it be? I was mesmerized by its complexity.
The back side shows you how many different yarns are used for making this one design.
I thought it was beautiful. Shall we move on? No, was Mamiya-san’s feedback. According to Mamiya-san, Katsuyama-san was overusing the colors. Is the gold thread really necessary? What about pink?
Since Mamiya-san has worked with Katsuyama-san many times before, Mamiya-san didn’t hold back his candid opinion. Let’s make it simpler, he suggested. That way Katsuyama-san’s true graceful design will be more prominent. Mamiya-san convinced Katsuyama-san to make a second try.
I asked Mamiya-san if I could still keep the first medashi. Sorry, Akemi-san. This is Katsuyama-san’s important property. He is to keep it so that he can reference it for his future work. It is less likely he will make exactly the same one. But it’s important that Katsuyama-san keeps all the medashi as his portfolio.
Soon after Mamiya-san sent me a photo of the first medashi, he sent me this photo. What is this? Are these the colors that Mamiya-san chose for my obi? I was horrified.
Don’t worry, Akemi-san. They are not the final colors, Mamiya-san assured me. These colorings are a necessary part of the weaving process.
The Nishijin district in Kyoto implemented Jacquard looms from France in the late nineteenth century. Katsuyama-san’s weavers are trained in this technique. Katsuyama-san first draws and paints the obi design onto a paper grid. The photo above is of hand-painted grid design paper. Each column represents one warp yarn, and each row represents one weft yarn. In order to make sure that the weaver doesn’t get confused, the convention is to use distinct colors for each different color thread. The colors on this paper have nothing to do with the real colors.
This is the closeup of the grid paper.
Once drawing and painting on the grid paper is finished, Katsuyama-san scans it to a computer for two reasons. One is to create Jacquard punch cards; the other is to create another paper for weavers to use as a guiding source when s/he weaves this pattern.
This is the closeup of the Jacquard punch cards. Each card is narrow and long, indicating how each warp should be lifted so the weft can go through. Each card has eight rows, which are meant to control eight weft yarns. The cards are bound together with the white thread as shown.
I remembered a photo I took when I visited Katstuyama-san’s studio. The long rail of punch cards was hanging from the top of the loom. I never knew then, but that’s how they control the warp. I asked Mamiya-san how many cards were punched and put together like this for my obi. He replied: 9200 cards!
This is the reference paper that the weaver uses. She has a table that indicates which color on the paper corresponds to which color of the real yarn.
When I visited Katsuyama-san’s studio, the weaver was working on the obi with the diamond design. The paper shown here must have been her reference paper.
I heard that the Jacquard punch cards are replaced with computers nowadays. Why still use the physical punch cards, I asked. Because if a mistake is made, it is easy to find it with the punch cards and correct it right away.
Why hand loom instead of using a machine? According to the book Nishijin Ori – Nihon no Senshoku 11 published by Tairyusha (p. 77), a machine can handle up to ten different colors. If the obi uses more colors, a hand loom is a must. Some obis use over fifty different colors!
The book was written in 1976. Machine looms must have advanced quite a bit since then. But Katsuyama-san still chooses handloom, because this way each obi looks slightly different and has its own beauty that can’t be replaced with any other.
About four months after I received the first medashi photo, I got a photo of the second one.
The second medashi had no gold thread, no pink, but more subtle variations of blues and wisteria colors. The outer rim of the design is now a much lighter color. Mamiya-san said, let’s go with this one.
Mamiya-san will show this medashi to Kosaka-san so that Kosaka-san can determine the base color of the kimono. Kosaka-san will draw Yuzen design on the left shoulder and the bottom front of the kimono based on this medashi.
I asked Mamiya-san if Katsuyama-san always makes two medashis for an obi. Not normally. Since this project was an unusual collaboration, it was necessary to take an extra step. I appreciate the craftsman’s attention to detail. I bet Katsuyama-san pursues efficiency in his process. But sometimes efficiency gives way to the pursuit of perfection. I’m learning how a craftsman works.
Silk kimono is categorized into two groups based on how the fabric is made.
One type is called Sakizome先染or Ori 織. The yarns are dyed first, usually the warp and the weft yarns separately, then they are woven. The most famous Ori kimono is Oshima Tsumugi 大島紬. With the intricate patterns and painstaking process, Oshima Tsumugi is one of the most expensive kimono fabrics in Japan.
Another type is Some 染. The undyed yarns are woven first, hence making natural-white color kimono fabric first. The fabric is then dyed in different colors and patterns.
Some 染 kimono is always considered more formal than Ori 織 kimono. For formal tea gatherings, Ori kimono is too casual, no matter how expensive it may be.
Once he had sketched a rough design of my kimono, Mamiya-san, my kimono retailer, selected the dyeing method of the kimono fabric. His choice was Yuzen hand dyeing 手描き友禅, and approached Kosaka-san, a Kyoto-based Yuzen kimono producer.
According to Mamiya-san, Kosaka-san’s name came to his mind right away when we agreed to launch We Love Kimono project. While Kosaka-san has a long experience of working with traditional Yuzen craftsmen, he tries to incorporate contemporary elements in the design. Kosaka-san will be willing to take up this challenging project, Mamiya-san thought.
What is Yuzen hand dyeing? A short video below shows you its process.
With the rough sketch he drew and a photo of Katsuyama-san’s Islamic Flower obi, Mamiya-san met with Kosaka-san. Mamiya-san’s idea was to replicate the obi’s Islamic Flower design onto the kimono. How large, where, and how similar the design should be on the kimono, was left up to Kosaka-san.
Kosaka-san getting introduced to the obi and kimono design.
After meeting with Kosaka-san, Mamiya-san went on to meet with Katsuyama-san to further discuss the project.
Mamiya-san showed Katsuyama-san the rough design of the kimono as well as the base color. The obi’s basic design is already selected, but the color combination is limitless. Does Katsuyama-san want to use the same color on the kimono and the obi? Or does he want to choose a matching, but slightly different color? Or will he choose contrasting colors?
Mamiya-san told me that it is not easy to dye the obi thread exactly the same color as the kimono. With obi, they dye the thread first then weave. With Yuzen kimono, they place colors onto the white silk fabric that is already woven. Since the order of dyeing and weaving is different, the final look of the color varies even though they use the same pigment.
For this project, Katsuyama-san would weave the obi first using the base color as the anchor color. Once the obi is woven, Kosaka-san would dye the kimono fabric while closely looking at the completed obi.
After talking to both Kosaka-san and Katsuyama-san, Mamiya-san slightly altered the kimono design. I had no objection. I was just thankful that I had these experienced craftsmen taking the time and effort to make my kimono and obi.
For a change, I didn’t have a problem choosing flowers. Chrysanthemum was the one I picked at the wholesaler.
The Japanese Consul General in Seattle is going back to Japan at the end of this month, and a farewell party was scheduled with a short notice. As the current president of Ikebana International Seattle Chapter, I was asked to create a couple of Ikebana arrangements. My pleasure!
Although no formal law exists, chrysanthemum is widely accepted as Japan’s national flower. On the front of the passport as well at the entrance of the Consul General’s official residence, the emblem of the chrysanthemum flower occupies the prominent space.
I chose white and yellow chrysanthemums, to be the main characters for my arrangements. For the arrangement placed next to the podium in the garden, as shown in the photo on the top, I added lily buds to add an accent color. The oak branches shaped the basic structure of the arrangement, horizontally spread.
Next to the gold screen inside the room, I used the long calla lily to accompany the yellow chrysanthemum, to match the shape of the vase.
Thank you, Consule General, for all the work in Seattle. Please have a safe trip, and wish you the best of luck in the new assignment!
