Category: Japan’s Traditional Arts & Crafts

Gallery of Kyoto Traditional Arts & Crafts

Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

You don’t want to miss Kyoto when traveling to Japan. What exactly do you want to see there? 

Yes, you can visit the impressive stage of Kyiyomizu Temple.  Yes, you can take a selfie in that famous shrine with so many red torii gates. And yes, you may encounter real geishas who are wearing beautiful kimono.

But beyond its buildings or beautiful komono, what really makes Kyoto so special is those master craftspeople who are trained to make all the things you may admire. 

For example, have you ever seen how those intricate Buddha statues are created?  How the colorful kimonos are dyed?  How the meticulous design of the bamboo basket is formed?  You can see real people creating these beautiful items firsthand in the middle of the city of Kyoto.

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On the third floor of Gallery of Kyoto Traditional Arts & Crafts building, students or alumni of Traditional Arts Super College of Kyoto (TASK) take turns to demonstrate what they have been learning at school. 

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When I visited the gallery, Ms Takako Nagasu was sitting cross-legged.  Her samue jacket looked comfortable.  On the right side of her laps were several wood carving knives with different shapes of tips.  On her left side were photos of wooden statues.  She was working on something, but when I approached her, her hands stopped and she greeted me with a warm smile. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“I’m carving a small buddha statue.”
“Is this what you do for a living?” 
“Yes, I learned Buddhist sculpture in college, and now I usually teach there.  Today I’m here demonstrating how these statues are made.”

This statue that she made for her graduation exhibition won first prize in 2016.  The Buddha statue is made of a single piece of wood (except for what he holds in his hands), the aureole of a separate piece, and the platform of another.

Carving Buddhist sculptures requires not only skills but also a wealth of knowledge of history.  Ms. Nagasu told me that one of her highlights during her college days was studying the details of Japan’s Buddhist art history. 

Her work is not merely a copy of old statues, however.  Based upon her knowledge, her understanding, and her interpretation, a new Buddhist sculpture is born.

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Not only watch the students’ work, but you can also ask any question regarding his/her work.  The more you learn about the detailed process of how things are created, and how much precision and attention are devoted to creating the work of art, the more you appreciate their work.

Gallery of Kyoto Traditional Arts & Crafts is open to the public from 10 am – 5 pm except for Tuesday and Wednesday.  I highly recommend visiting this place if you would like to enjoy a richer, deeper experience in Kyoto.

An innovative way to pass Japan’s traditional arts and crafts on to the next generation

Buddha statue made by Ms. Nagasu of TASK: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

Traditional Arts Super College of Kyoto, TASK for short… Not only its name but the 10 courses it offers are also unique. 

They are:
ceramics, wood carving, Buddha engraving, woodcraft, Urushi (Japanese lacquer) craft, Makie lacquer work, metal craft, bamboo craft, Japanese paper craft, and Kyoto tegaki yuzen (kimono dyeing)

For centuries, people used to get trained in these arts and crafts through apprenticeship.  At an early age, they would live with their master, and do menial jobs like cleaning and running errands for years before learning the respective skills.  Only after decades of training would they become master craftspeople. 

Such apprenticeship, however, became harder to carry on.  The compulsory education system in the modern days doesn’t allow kids to start early.  Young people don’t have enough patience to go through such rigorous years.  Many master craftspeople are getting old with nobody to take over.  Once the master is deceased, the craft is forever gone.

In order to preserve traditional craftsmanship and pass it on to future generations,  there should be an innovation on how to train people.   TASK was the solution.

When I learned out TASK, I was determined that Five Senses Foundation* should focus on supporting TASK.

*Five Senses Foundation is a non-profit organization that I founded.  Its mission is to promote Japan’s traditional culture in the US. 

My selfie challenge

Photos property of Author Akemi Sagawa

Looking back through my photos in my early years, I noticed that they have become great archives documenting how people used to be dressed in Japan half a century ago! 

I must have been 3 years old. Circa 1965.   On New Year’s Day, I was dressed in a girl’s kimono, holding a hagoita, a decorative racket-like toy.  Quite traditional.  But the Western culture was already influencing our lives.  Commercialism to celebrate Christmas with a fake tree was already there.

A field trip with my kindergarten class, circa 1966.  My mother accompanies us.  I wonder how long it took her to set her hairstyle.    

Photo Property of Author Akemi Sagawa

The first day of my elementary school, on April 1^st, 1968. The tallest one with a red hat is me.  The mothers of my classmates were all in kimono and haori, a jacket, on top of it, the most common formal wear among married women.

In 1970.  My mother, my grandmother, and I, standing in front of my father’s car.  As far as I can remember, my grandmother was always wearing kimono. 

I was the tallest in the class until the 6^th grade.  Local clothing stores didn’t have children’s dresses large enough to fit me. So my mother’s good friend and also a mother of my classmate sewed almost all my clothes. My mother also made me like simple skirts. There was no Uniqlo back then.  Making clothes at home was not uncommon.    

I’m wearing the summer uniform of my middle school.  In 1975. We had school on Saturday morning.  Ironing the uniform every morning was my chore.  I really liked that blue color. 

My high school uniform, in 1977. I hated this uniform, and missed my middle school one.  No matter how cold it was, girls were to wear skirts.  Pants were only for boys.            

On the morning of my college graduation day, in 1985.  My mother wore her kimono and haori, still considered the most formal wear.  I wore hakama, a pair of pants, on my kimono.  It was quite trendy to be dressed in hakama for graduation in those days. 

After the graduation ceremony, I took off the hakama to attend the more casual graduation reception. 

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I don’t know how many middle and high school students in Japan still wear uniforms today.  I have no idea how people dress up for their or their children’s graduations these days. 

Right now I’m wearing blue jeans, the world’s defacto uniform!  So comfortable, so convenient.  But I can’t help but feel nostalgic remembering my old clothes…  

Obis are wearable art!

Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

If you see a woman in Japanese kimono, you also see a long, broad sash tied about the waist over it.  The sash is called obi.  Its function is to secure a kimono and avoid it from falling open.

Obi used to be a simple narrow sash, but over time it became wider.  In Edo period (1603 – 1868), many different ways of tying obi emerged.

Now that western clothes are dominant in Japan, vintage obis are so abundant.  Visit a second-hand kimono store, you will find a pile of colorful silk obis sold dirt cheap.  If the craft person who painstakingly wove that obi sees his/her work in that pile, how would s/he feel?  My heart hurts whenever I think about that.

People in the US, on the other hand, are fascinated by the intricate designs and colorful patterns of obi.  Some use an old obi as a table runner and others hang it on the wall as a decoration.

How can I give these vintage obis a second life?  What can I do to keep the original length but present it in a much more interesting way than merely folding It into two and hanging it?

I began trying to tie the obi the same way as we would wrap around the kimono and make it a hanging art.

What do you think?

Now whenever I go back to Japan, I purchase a couple of vintage obis and bring them back to Seattle.  I make these obis into ranging arts and donate them as auction items at Holiday Dinner of Japan-America Society. 

The obi is no longer worn, but its beauty remains on the wall in somebody’s house, thousands away from the original maker.   

What a Kanji Character tells us

In Japanese, we use three different types of characters: Hiragana, Katakana, and Kanji.

Both Hiragana and Katakana are phonetic, and each has only 46 characters. 

Kanji, on the other hand, is ideogramic.  Just like English words, there are thousands of Kanji characters, and each Kanji character has a certain meaning. 

How was the Kanji character developed?  What is the original meaning? 

Each character has its own story to tell and learning its story is one of the fun for learning Kanji characters. 

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Snow is written as 雪 in Kanji.

My dear friend Shizu Usami is a professional calligrapher and has deep knowledge of Kanji’s history.  Recently she created a Youtube video explaining how the character “雪” was developed over time.

When I found out about this week’s prompt in Dr. Preeti Singh’s article on Reciprocal, I thought it is a great opportunity to introduce Shizu’s video.

Not only will you learn about this Kanji’s story, but you will also get to learn how the Kanji character is written in calligraphy. 

Shizu’s beautiful brush strokes, her straight posture, her focus, and her serenity while she moves the brush on the paper… When she writes the character, maybe she feels as if she becomes part of snow herself?

Here is Shizu’s video.  I hope you will enjoy it!

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My happiness doesn’t come from consumerism

An antique sewing box: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

Kyoto Art and Antique’s twice-a-year warehouse sale in Seattle is a great treasure hunt.  Tea bowls, lacquerware, haori (kimono jacket) … I always find a precious item there.

In the fall sale this year, I bought this antique sewing box. 

On the neck, a yard stick is stored.

When I took out the yard stick, I found something was written on the back of it.

三越呉服店　大阪支店 (Mitsukoshi Gofukuten,  Osaka Shiten)

According to the website of now Isetan Mitsukoshi Holdings, the company was called Mitsukoshi Gofukuten between 1904 and 1928.  This sewing box once belonged to its Osaka branch, and is between 95 and 118 years old!

Despite its age, the box is perfectly functional.  Made of paulownia wood, which is very light, fine-grained, and warp-resistant, all the drawers open and close just as smoothly as brand new.

Each wooden piece is meticulously planed and carefully joined together… Great workmanship. 

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After transferring all my sewing items (threads, scissors, pins, and needles) to this wooden box, a new motivation to mend and repair my old clothes emerged.  I found some tears on the kimono I plan to wear early next year.  OK, I will mend it tonight!

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How many T-shirts and socks did I throw away just because there was a hole or small tears?  How long have I been brainwashed that mass production and mass consumption are the only way to conduct our lives? 

This 100-year-old sewing box made by a skilled craftsman has given me an opportunity to change the direction of my life, no matter how small it may be.

What is Urushi?

My urushi lacquered jubako boxes: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

Urushi lacquerware was all around me in my daily life in Japan.  I loved urushi lacquerware then and I still love it today.  I often use wooden jubako boxes and plates coated in Urushi lacquer to decorate food for parties.

Jubako with party food: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

Appetizer on Urushi lacquered wooden plate: Photo by Author Akemi Sagawa

What is Urushi

Urushi (漆) is Japanese lacquer, a varnish obtained from the urushi tree (botanical name: toxicodendron vernicifluum).  For so long Japanese people have been using items coated with urushi.  Some items show a natural wood grain through a translucent urushi coating.  Some items have a shiny black or red finish.  Some have intricate designs decorated with gold and silver.  Urushi lacquer is used in a variety of ways in Japan.

Japanese kanji characters are ideogramic. The names of trees have a kanji character that means tree “木”  on the left side.   For example, 桜cherry, 松pine, 楓maple, 梅plum, 柳willow. 

The kanji for urushi 漆 tree, however, has the character for water on the left. It is the only exception among trees. The character indicates that it is the sap of the urushi tree that is most important.

Some people might say that anything civilized in Japan originally came from China. But the facts tell a different story when it comes to urushi. The oldest urushi object in the world was discovered at Kakinoshima “B” Excavation Site in Hokkaido, Japan.  It is a decorative item woven with red thread, coated with urushi. The object is over 9,000 years old, about 2,000 years older than the oldest urushi object found in China.

It is widely thought that the urushi tree originated in China and came to Japan.  However, the urushi branch discovered in Torihama Shell-Mound in Fukui Prefecture is about 12,600 years old, making it the world’s oldest record of an urushi tree.  We can’t eliminate the possibility that urushi trees didn’t come from China but originated in Japan.

Benefits of Urushi

Urushi sap, known as Urushiol, causes an allergic reaction in many people.  Only after urushi has hardened completely does the danger of a skin rash disappear.  How and why did the people in ancient times start using urushi in their lives?  There are several reasons.

Durability: Once hardened, urushi is such a durable coating material.  The fact that we can still trace a 9,000-year-old object is powerful evidence. The woven decorative item found in Kakinoshima survived from decomposition because the threads were protected by urushi.  Research shows that urushi is highly resistant to both acidity and alkali. 

Adhesiveness: Urushi is a powerful adhesive.  Have you heard of kintsugi? It’s the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi dusted or mixed with gold, silver, or platinum.  Neither gold nor silver has the ability to glue together broken pieces.  Urushi is what glues together the broken parts.    

Antibacteria: It is scientifically proven that hardened urushi is antibacterial.  Place e.coli bacteria on a surface coated with urushi, and the bacteria eventually disappear.  In the subtropical and temperate climates of Japan, when no easy refrigeration was available, food containers coated with antibacterial urushi were valuable.   

Its durability, its adhesiveness, and its antibacterial nature…. I’m still awed by the intelligence of ancient human beings for having discovered the wonderful utility of this rather poisonous sap.  And I’m awed by the creativity of human beings in making so many beautiful things out of this useful material.

The Future of Urushi

Sadly, both consumption and production of Urushi lacquerware is decreasing in Japan.  Many craftspeople are getting old, and they are having a hard time finding young people to take over their centuries-old skills. 

Why is this trend a problem?  Why does it matter to preserve such old crafts?  What can we do to avoid such crafts from extinction?

Those questions occupy my thoughts.  I’m hoping Medium is the right platform to share my thoughts. 

You might call it a reverse discrimination, but celebrating twice was better than once.

Photo of me and my mother in 1965

I totally forgot about this photo, but Diane Neill Tincher’s article on Medium has inspired me to time travel to 57 years ago!

Shichi-Go-San — The Day of Happy Shrine Visits for 3, 7, and 5 Year Olds

If you see the photo above, you might doubt if I was really three years old, but I was.  Since after 3 months I was born until 11 years old, I used to be the tallest kid in the class. 

I’m not one of these who have picture memories of very young age, so I have no recollection of what I saw, where I went, or how I felt on that day when I had my picture taken.  By looking at those photos in my album, I can only imagine what it was like back then. It’s hard to believe that my mother was once so young (no wrinkles!).  She must have been 26 then.

Another photo of me in Shichi-Go-San

Even my mother doesn’t remember which shrine we went.  It must have been an inconspicuous, a small local shrine somewhere eastside of Osaka Castle. 

My other photos from those days indicate that most of the road in the neighborhood was not paved yet.  As you can see in the picture above, houses were humble.  Back then Japan was experiencing high economic growth, but most people were poor or modest. 

Diane’s article mentions that both boys and girls celebrate at age 3, but as far as I remember,  only girls celebrated at age3.  In my memory, girls celebrated both at age 3 and 7 as boys celebrated only at age 5. 

I remember that I felt great that only girls get to celebrate twice in life whereas boys had only one chance to celebrate Shichi-Go-san. Maybe political correctness might have altered this “reverse gender discrimination”.

This kimono has been passed down for four generations

The photo by Author

This kimono is the shortest I ever had, and the hardest to wear properly.  Still this is the kimono I cherish most.  Because my great grandmother wove the fabric.

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This is the first kimono that my mother got when she came of age, maybe 18 or 19 years old.  Using one role of kimono fabric that my great grandmother had woven, my grandmother made this kimono for my mother. 

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Before World War II, many farmers in the countryside of Japan used to be pretty much self-sufficient.   My mother’s village in Tokushima Prefecture was no exception.  My mother remembers the sound of handlooms in the neighborhood. 

Where my great grandmother lived was further deep in the mountains, and it’s no wonder to guess that my great grandmother used to grow her own mulberry trees, grow silkworm, get silk threads, and weave the fabric by hand at home. Such home-made silk fabric is called jiginu 地絹.

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When my mother was born in 1938, my great grandmother was already dead. My grandmother was born 1903.  I can’t trace back when my great grandmother was born, but it’s safe to say that this kimono fabric is well 100 years old. 

If you touch this fabric, you feel slight unevenness. Far from the perfect smoothness you can get from the fabric woven by a skilled craft person in Kyoto. But you know, no other kimono can win my soul as much as this one. 

The design of the kimono is different from when it was originally made.  My mother had it redyed to much subtler colors years later.  Being able to redye is another secret to wear kimono for a long time. 

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I’m trying to get more kimonos to support those skilled crafts people.  But how beautiful they may be, my favorite kimono will always be this short, uneven kimono.  Great grandma, thank you so much for making it!