With its vivid and bold colors and patterns, Ryukyu Bingata is a dyeing technique passed down in Okinawa since ancient times. Bingata was originally crafted and presented as garments for the royal family of the Ryukyu Kingdom. Toma Chinen, the 10th-generation head of the Chinen Bingata Research Institute in Naha, engages with Bingata every day while infusing it with a fresh perspective.

One of the three leading families of Bingata, which used to present Bingata textiles to the royal family

Bingata is a traditional craft unique to Okinawa and the only form of dyeing practiced there. In ancient times, it was produced exclusively as clothing for the royal family of the Ryukyu Kingdom, but today it is widely enjoyed in the form of kimonos, obi sashes, and accessories. Originally, it was written in hiragana as “bingata,” but it is said that during the Showa period, it came to be written in kanji as “Bingata.”

During the Ryukyu Dynasty, which lasted until about 120 years ago, Bingata was crafted as a tribute to the royal family by the three Bingata master families: the Shirogane family, the Takushi family, and the Chinen family.

The Decline and Revival of Bingata Due to the War

However, with the abolition of the feudal domains and the establishment of prefectures, as well as the invasion of Satsuma, the monarchy was dismantled, and the work that had been passed down through generations for some 450 years came to an end. Although they could no longer sustain it as a livelihood, some families continued to produce Bingata after the Meiji era, determined not to let the technique die out. The Chinen family, while making a living through other work, continued to carefully preserve their Bingata tools and materials. As time passed, during Okinawa’s postwar reconstruction in the Showa era, Fuyuma’s grandfather, Sadao, learned the Chinen-style Bingata from a relative who had kept the tradition alive and revived it as a family business.

Artisans began producing Bingata for Ryukyu dance costumes and souvenirs, reviving it as an Okinawan craft. Around 1972, orders began coming in from the mainland for use as Japanese-style clothing, bringing new vitality to the Bingata industry. Consequently, in 1984, “Ryukyu Bingata” was designated as a Traditional Craft by the Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry.

The 10th-generation successor to the historic Ryukyu Bingata tradition

The Chinen Bingata Research Institute is located in a workshop near Naha Airport. The current head of the institute, Fuyuma Chinen, studied graphic design in Kyoto and worked as a designer in Osaka before moving to Milan, Italy, to further his studies in art. There, surrounded daily by works of art and historic buildings that have stood the test of time, he realized, “I want to create things that endure rather than being consumed. I want to express my own world.” The Benibana craft, the family business he had always intended to inherit one day, perfectly aligned with the vision he had arrived at.

With that resolve in his heart, he returned to Okinawa, and his days of dedicating himself to Benibana at the Chinen Benibana Research Institute began. Returning home at the age of 22 was sooner than she had anticipated, but considering that honing her skills was her top priority, it was the best choice. However, shortly thereafter, her grandfather, who had been running the workshop, passed away suddenly, and within just a few months of joining the workshop, she found herself having to take over its management. Looking back, she recalls those years as a time when she was truly struggling.

Chinen has received numerous awards, including the Newcomer Award from the Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition and the Japan Crafts Association in 2021. She currently serves as a director of the Ryukyu Bingata Promotion and Preservation Consortium and as vice director of the Ryukyu Bingata Business Cooperative.

The Process Behind Okinawa’s Unique Bingata

Bingata is created using stencils carved with the designed patterns. The stencil is placed on the fabric, and resist paste is applied over it. After drying, pigment is applied in layers to the areas not covered by the paste. Next, resist paste is applied to the dyed areas, and finally, the base color is applied to the remaining areas. To set the colors, the fabric is steamed, rinsed, and dried to complete the process. While this is a general overview, there are actually more than 10 distinct steps involved in the process.

There are no strict rules regarding the fabric material, but silk and cotton are commonly used. Because there are no restrictions, a wide variety of dyeing techniques can be employed.

This beautiful indigo-colored pattern is called “Amefibana.” In the Okinawan language, this means “rain flower,” and the design features morning glories. The blue background is dyed with Ryukyu indigo. Ryukyu indigo is characterized by a deeper, more intense blue hue than the indigo found on the mainland.

The background color is created using natural dyes derived from plants, while the pattern itself uses pigments; the vivid pigments are used to express the boldness of Bingata. Since the dye is water-soluble and penetrates deep into the fabric, it blends seamlessly with the base material, while the pigment adheres to the surface as particles, allowing for vivid colors. The contrast in colors, which leverages the distinct properties of each, is a key focus.

Chinen explains, “The pigment comes to the forefront, while the softer dye recedes slightly into the background. This creates a dynamic three-dimensional effect, resulting in a work with great depth.” She uses a variety of pigments and blends the colors specifically for each design.

When she returned to Okinawa and began working with Bingata in earnest, she was strongly motivated to create her own original designs that differed from her grandfather’s. While she did experiment with various approaches, she says that as she continued her daily work, she increasingly came to appreciate the ease of dyeing the traditional patterns passed down through generations and the beauty they exhibit when colored.

Since many people still love the classic patterns that have been popular for generations, she continues to create these historic designs. In addition, she consciously incorporates modern patterns that appeal to younger people, aiming to produce products that will be cherished for a long time as the times change.

This involves a process called “katazuke,” where a stencil is placed on the fabric and resist paste is applied with a spatula. The paste acts as a mask to prevent the dye from penetrating the areas covered, ensuring the pattern remains intact. The artisan scoops up the paste, spreads it evenly, gently peels off the stencil, and places the next one adjacent to ensure the pattern connects seamlessly. If the process is too slow, the paste dries too quickly and clogs the fabric, or the stencil may tear, leaving holes in the design. Chinen’s movements are fluid and smooth. She explains that when she first returned to Okinawa, she could only complete one roll of fabric per day, but now she can produce as many as 15 rolls a day.

The resist paste, made by hand from glutinous rice and rice bran, is mixed with blue pigment. Apparently, this enhances the color intensity when the fabric is dyed later.

“Color application,” the process of layering fine colors, is performed by holding two brushes simultaneously. Pigment is applied with a dipping brush, and then a rubbing brush is used to work the coarser pigment into the fabric to help it penetrate more easily. In the next step, to emphasize the design, color is applied further while blending with the brush to create a sense of depth.

There are several types of brushes, and the one used varies depending on the fabric. Many of the tools are handmade.

Every year, I take on the “Oboro-gata,” a major project that requires twice the effort

This kimono, named “Island of Falling Flowers,” is made using a technique called “oborogata,” in which two stencils with different patterns are layered and dyed together. Since this process takes twice as much time and requires a high level of skill, few artisans attempt it. Although it’s labor-intensive, Ms. Chinen loves this oborogata technique and often works with it. The fabric used is a thin silk known as “kakujou-nuno,” produced in the nearby town of Haebaru.

Growing the Bingata Fan Base Through Social Media

She also actively pursues collaborations with other industries, working on projects that combine Okinawan specialties—such as transferring Bingata patterns onto local pottery or incorporating Bingata designs into Awamori bottle labels. She believes this creates opportunities for people who aren’t interested in dyeing to discover the art, and vice versa.
Currently, Mr. Chinen is actively posting on social media. He shares content designed to spark interest in Bingata, such as videos showcasing the production process. He reportedly handles not only the posting but also all video editing himself.

Perhaps as a result, the number of visitors to the workshop continues to grow, and it seems that our social media posts are reaching younger generations across the country who were previously unfamiliar with Bingata.
I also frequently visit the kimono shops on the mainland that carry our products. While interacting with customers there, I’m able to directly hear about their preferences—which differ from those in my hometown of Okinawa—tailored to each specific region. I often bring these insights back to incorporate into my work.
Currently, about 10 people work at the Chinen Bingata Research Institute, ranging from seasoned artisans to young people who have come with the goal of becoming Bingata artisans, and they all work briskly at their respective stations.

Looking Toward the Future of Ryukyu Bingata

“It’s not about it being culture or tradition—it’s not something special. We’re continuing it as a profession. I believe that’s how it becomes part of our history and culture,” says Chinen. His words convey a sense of determination to look ahead to the future of Ryukyu Bingata and carry that responsibility.
“If it isn’t fun, you can’t keep it up, and because there are challenges, you don’t get bored and can take on new ones. I want to show my staff that I’m taking on these challenges myself, and I want to keep pushing myself to create a form of Bingata that fits the modern era,” he says with sincere conviction.
As he continues to pass down the craft to ensure Ryukyu Bingata’s ongoing development, he will likely continue to take on challenges with a light yet stoic spirit, brightly leading the way for the Ryukyu Bingata community.

The post Toma Chinen of the Chinen Bingata Research Institute, who creates works with an eye toward the future of Ryukyu Bingata / Naha City, Okinawa Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Iyogassuri, one of Japan’s three great kasuri weaves and a traditional craft of Ehime. Kuniko Murakami, an Iyogassuri artist who began weaving around age 54. Her challenge to participate in traditional craft exhibitions and her approach to Iyogassuri truly embody the philosophy that “to live is to weave.”

Weaving and Iyogassuri: A Meeting in Her 50s

　Born in 1948, Ms. Murakami works as an Iyo Gasuri artist. Surprisingly, she only began weaving after turning 50. She had long worked as an art flower instructor, but wrist injuries made creating pieces difficult, leading her to leave that path. She then distanced herself from “teaching others” and began searching for a new form of expression she could genuinely enjoy herself.

　While trying new crafts like pottery and woodcarving, weaving captivated her most. “As a child, there was a kasuri factory along my school route. They worked right there on the embankment along the Ishite River, stretching threads.” That scene became a primal landscape within her.Memories of secretly watching the indigo-dyed thread weavers at work, and the childlike sense of wonder it sparked, stirred something deep within him years later. Fortunately, the motions of weaving suited his impaired hand movements, making it a craft he could continue. He enrolled in the dyeing and weaving classes at Iori Kogei, led by contemporary Iyo Kasuri artist Nobutoshi Shirakata, studying there for five years.

The charm of kasuri, born from time and effort

　In the Iyo region, including Matsuyama, cotton was once cultivated. Within this culture where cotton was woven into daily life, “Iyo Gasuri” developed.

　Kasuri is a woven fabric characterized by a blurred, faint appearance along the outlines of its woven patterns. This is achieved by partially tying off warp or weft threads to create areas that resist dye absorption, then applying indigo dye. The resulting contrast between white and indigo creates the unique, beautiful texture characteristic of kasuri.Iyo Kasuri is counted among the “Three Great Kasuri of Japan,” alongside Kurume Kasuri (Fukuoka Prefecture) and Bingo Kasuri (Hiroshima Prefecture). However, it is noted for its composition centered around the “Yokokasuri” pattern, where the kasuri threads are used primarily on the weft threads.

　”When setting up 17 meters of thread per bolt, the weft threads alone can require tying over 1,000 points,” explains Mr. Murakami. Consequently, while tying the warp threads takes about a month, tying the weft threads takes two to three months, making it an extremely labor-intensive process.Horizontal kasuri allows for delicate, regular pattern expression because the design unfolds continuously in the horizontal direction. However, this requires advanced skill and considerable time. This characteristic is closely linked to Iyo kasuri’s simple, approachable design aesthetic, creating its appeal as a practical, everyday fabric.

Shaping Curiosity, Meticulously Woven

　Murakami-san’s early Iyo-kasuri designs often featured floral motifs. However, as she continued creating, she began incorporating elements that moved her in daily life. As she says, “I finish each piece while gazing at it repeatedly,” her works vividly reflect her curiosity. In recent years, motifs related to Earth and space—such as the fault lines at Dogo Park and the asteroid probe Hayabusa2—have emerged as new themes.

　Once the design is complete, the process moves to meticulously calculating and designing the position and amount of thread ties to ensure the pattern is woven precisely. “I strive to avoid any misalignment during finishing. While some say misalignment is part of the charm of kasuri, I find it sad when something I calculated doesn’t turn out exactly as planned. I suppose that’s just my personality,” Mr. Murakami says with a smile.

The workshop is at home, where daily life breathes with handcraft

　Murakami operates without a dedicated workshop, handling every step of the process alone at home. Weaving accounts for only about 20-30% of the total work; most time is spent on dyeing and preparing the threads. She conceives designs in her bedroom and dyes fabrics using fermented indigo in her garage.Maintaining the indigo in optimal condition is crucial, requiring constant monitoring of humidity, temperature, and the pH level of the dye bath to indicate its acidity or alkalinity. The dyeing process is repeated about 40 times, taking roughly a month to complete. Afterward, she takes time to unravel the yarn and shape it.

　Then, weaving progresses on the loom placed in the living room. Surprisingly, this loom was handmade by the couple themselves. After closely observing a loom at the Iyo Kasuri Hall, Ms. Murakami drew the design plans, and her husband built it to fit her height.

Challenging Traditional Craft Exhibitions and Passing on Iyo Kasuri

　Working on multiple processes simultaneously, Ms. Murakami completes only 2 to 3 Iyo Kasuri pieces per year. She says her heart races with excitement when a piece woven over such a long time is finally finished.

　In 2011, her Iyo Tsumugi woven kimono “Time of Fragrant Winds” won the Sanyo Shimbun Award at the 45th Japan Traditional Crafts Dyeing and Weaving Exhibition. Since then, she has actively exhibited her completed works at dyeing exhibitions and the Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition. Challenging the Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition, which tours nationwide, is a valuable opportunity to spread awareness of Iyo Kasuri. Continuing to take on these challenges is what connects to its preservation.

　In 2021, she was certified as a full member of the Japan Craft Association. In 2025, Iyo Kasuri was designated as an Intangible Cultural Property of Ehime Prefecture, and Ms. Murakami was recognized as a holder of this technique. She will continue to engage in her craft while promoting Iyo Kasuri as a cultural asset.

“Housewives work on it between kitchen chores and cleaning,” Mr. Murakami says calmly. “Alone, bit by bit, enjoying it. It’s a blessing to have something to pour myself into at this age.”

　Starting in her 50s, she arrived at Iyo Kasuri while seeking “something she could truly enjoy.” For Ms. Murakami, the process of engaging with thread in daily life and gradually completing her work is life itself. “How many fine pieces I can leave behind is also a challenge,” she says. Her words reveal a steadfast spirit of inquiry and a clear determination to carry the inherited skills of traditional craftsmanship forward into the future.

The post Iyo Kasuri woven in a home workshop. Connecting traditional craft to the future. Iyo Kasuri artist Kimiko Murakami / Matsuyama City, Ehime Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Curves softly illuminated by light. Their texture evokes the moment a flower blooms or fabric layered with supple grace, making you want to reach out and touch them. Lacquer artist Fumie Sasai explores “shapes you can’t help but want to touch,” creating unseen forms while conversing daily with lacquer.

Shapes Made of Lacquer That Invite Touch

In her home and studio in Mukō City, Kyoto Prefecture, the lacquer drying cabinet, the “lacquer room,” holds pieces with a mysterious presence. Soft, airy swells, or forms as plump and juicy as ripe fruit. Their surfaces catch the light with a moist luster, tempting you to bring your fingertips closer.

Sasai’s three-dimensional lacquer works are not completed with a single coat. By layering lacquer and polishing after each application, she refines subtle irregularities to create an even, uniform surface. Furthermore, lacquer only hardens in spaces with controlled temperature and humidity, requiring time for drying. Only through this repeated process, layered many times over, do these smooth textures and soft forms emerge.

“I decide the coating and form while imagining the sensation when touched,” explains Sasai’s creative approach. As he coats, polishes, and coats again, the lacquer’s thickness builds into volume, and the precision of the polishing creates smoothness. The forms nurtured bit by bit carry the layered time Sasai spent engaging with the lacquer, confirming its state with his fingertips.

He chose “works that won’t lose their form”

Sasai was born and raised in Yao City, Osaka Prefecture. Growing up in a working-class neighborhood with a father who was a company employee and a mother who was a homemaker, his family had no particular connection to the arts. He became drawn to the path of art in high school and went on to study at an art university in Kyoto.

“I painted in high school, but as I continued, I started thinking maybe I was better suited to creating forms within my hands rather than working on a flat surface. What about becoming a ceramicist? I jumped into an art university with the mindset of ‘Let’s just try it first.'”

Upon entering university, he first experienced dyeing, ceramics, and lacquerware. Among these, lacquer captured Sasai’s heart. “With ceramics, the pieces shrink when fired, which I found a bit sad,” he explains. Conversely, lacquer gains fullness and substance with each layer applied. He was drawn to how its expression changes with each application, allowing him to slowly decide the form while observing these transformations.

Forging a path no one has walked before, with my own hands

Having chosen lacquerware, Sasai initially envisioned a future crafting vessels in a workshop. Yet as she worked, she transcended the boundaries of vessel-making, pursuing forms that were true to her own sensibilities. Following her heart led her to lacquer objects—a medium where she could freely explore the shapes she loved.

At that time, the world of lacquer art was still dominated by practitioners working as “craftsmen” making vessels and Buddhist altarware. Precisely because of this, he reasoned that by deliberately pivoting into the realm of art, he could forge a new path where no one had ventured before. This realization became the major catalyst for steering his course toward becoming an artist and beginning to explore his own unique form of expression.

Dialogue with nature and people close at hand became the source of creation

Since encountering lacquer, Sasai has consistently engaged with “form.” This journey has also been one of continually seeking how to entrust the sensations arising in his heart to lacquer. His work reveals a core strength that enjoys time-consuming processes and steadfastly upholds his aesthetic sensibility.

Plump forms of life born from everyday observations

One of Sasai’s representative series is “Bilabdo.” Its rounded, soft forms evoke the appearance of infants and children—the period when humans receive the most affection—and inevitably bring a smile to the viewer’s face. These plump contours succinctly express Sasai’s theme of “forms you want to touch.”

Another representative series, “Sky Fish,” beautifully harmonizes the characteristic plump curves and overlapping ridges found in Sasai’s work.

These works share a common thread: they convey Sasai’s curiosity, focused on small, everyday observations and the nature close at hand. The freshness of a child’s skin, the suppleness of a fish swimming on the water’s surface. The charm of Sasai’s work lies in how these forms of life are expressed through the unique, deep texture of lacquer.

Time spent with students fuels creative energy

Alongside his own artistic practice, Sasai has served as a professor at Kyoto City University of Arts, teaching students the creation of three-dimensional lacquer works. He finds the time spent interacting with the younger generation at the university to be a significant stimulus for himself. “If I had devoted myself solely to creating, I might have hit a wall. Interacting with the students provides balance and gives me energy.”

Dialogue with the younger generation broadens his perspective, enriching Sasai’s creative process.

A new world opened through collaboration

“Collaborations” with artists from different fields have also been a major catalyst for expanding Sasai’s expressive range. Encountering materials and approaches entirely different from lacquer has given birth to new possibilities.

A prime example is the collaborative work “Boat of the Sun” with bamboo craftsman Tanabe Chikunsa IV.While Sasai used blue lacquer to express the sun floating on the sea surface with a sharp, circular form, Tanabe wove bundles of bamboo into the blue ring, capturing the moment sunlight spreads across the ocean. The fusion of lacquer’s sharp lines and bamboo’s softness creates a new charm in craftsmanship.

The collaborative work “Glass Fish” with kirikane glass artist Akane Yamamoto is another piece where the two artists’ individualities merge.”Kirikane glass” is a technique original to Yamamoto Akane, where patterns are drawn using thin, thread-like strips of gold leaf, which are then sealed within molten glass. Inspired by the glass eyes Yamamoto creates, Sasai gave birth to a vivid blue fish that seems to leap across the water’s surface.

“Through collaborations with various craftspeople, I’ve seen worlds I never could have reached working alone. Of course, it benefits me personally, and I can pass it on to my students, so I believe it’s creating double or triple the positive impact.” These collaborations with diverse artists also became an opportunity for Sasai to unravel the unconscious assumptions she had unknowingly formed about “how lacquer should be.”

Freer, farther. Believing in the potential of lacquer.

Sasai’s works have been exhibited in museums, solo shows, and various themed exhibitions. Additionally, her pieces are permanently displayed as part of the artwork collection at The Ritz-Carlton Kyoto. It’s a special space where visitors can encounter her creations during their stay or dining experience.

In recent years, his new challenges showcased in the 2024 solo exhibition “Gentle Breeze, Sudden Thunder” were recognized, earning him the Minister of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology New Artist Award in the Fine Arts category at the 75th Arts Selection Awards. Furthermore, he will realize his first solo exhibition in the United States in the summer of 2025, significantly expanding his creative horizons.

“I truly believe Japanese crafts possess exceptional quality. That’s precisely why increasing opportunities for more people to see them should spark greater interest overseas. In fact, international visitors do come to see my work, and I believe the potential is immense.”

In 2026, an exhibition introducing Japanese lacquer art is scheduled at the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, UK, and Sasai’s work has been selected for display. As an individual artist, she stands at the gateway to introducing Japanese craft to the world. Her determination and hope for the future were palpable in her words.

What new encounters will come next, and what new expressions will emerge? The works born from these encounters will surely stir our hearts once again.

The post What I seek is “a form that invites touch.” Lacquer artist Fumie Sasai, who shapes the tactile essence of life / Mukō City, Kyoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Pearls have traditionally been valued in the market for their “perfect roundness.” Nami Yamashita, who crafts her own cultivated pearls into jewelry and sells them under her original brand “L’ de pearl,” creates unique value by discerning the individual character of each pearl and bringing out its charm, rather than focusing solely on market value.

Yamashita Pearl: Three Generations of Pearl Cultivation in a Nationally Renowned Production Area

Founded in 1963, Yamashita Pearl Co., Ltd. is a long-established pearl farming business in Uwajima City, one of Japan’s premier pearl production areas, where the family has cultivated pearls for four generations. Nami Yamashita, the fourth-generation head, initially had no clear intention of joining the family business. After graduating from university, she took a job at a general company in Hiroshima Prefecture. However, around that time, the novel coronavirus began spreading, making it impossible not only to go to work but even to return to her hometown.Amidst this, casual remarks from her boss and business partners—things like “Having a family business is really something, isn’t it?”—became the catalyst. She began thinking about returning home to help with the family business. Around the same time, her younger brother, Yuhei, who had been working as a salaryman outside the prefecture, also returned to Uwajima. This led the family to join forces and dedicate themselves to pearl farming.

One day, Nami was asked by a friend, “Where can I buy pearls from Yamashita Pearls?” That casual question made her realize she didn’t know where or how the pearls they cultivated were being sold after being processed into jewelry by manufacturers.”We want to deliver the pearls we cultivate with our own hands.” Driven by this desire, they resolved to handle everything from accessory processing to sales themselves. Then, in 2023, while continuing to assist with pearl farming, they launched their own jewelry brand, “L’ de pearl,” using their company’s pearls. They create and sell accessories that showcase the inherent beauty of pearls, free from conventional values.

We want to convey the true beauty of pearls, something only producers can understand

Pearls are natural gems nurtured over time within the Akoya oyster. No two pearls share the same color, shape, or luster. Yet, pearls have long been judged by a standard that prioritizes perfect roundness above all else. No matter how beautiful their sheen or luster, or how uniquely shaped, pearls that don’t meet this ideal are not recognized as valuable in the market.Through her work in pearl cultivation, Nami grew to feel sympathy for these pearls, which in a sense have been treated unfairly. Her desire for others to recognize their charm led to the founding of “L’ de pearl”.

The name “L’ de pearl” originates from the German word “erde,” meaning “earth, land, or specific territory.” It was chosen to embody the belief that the pearls, nurtured robustly and beautifully in the waters of Uwajima—blessed with ideal conditions for pearl cultivation—carry within them the life force of the Akoya oyster and the deep affection of the people who carefully cultivate them.

Her grandfather, the first generation, was a pioneer of pearl cultivation in this region.

The Yamashita family began pearl farming here about 65 years ago, dating back to Nami’s great-grandfather and grandfather. Pearl farming originated in the Ise-Shima region of Mie Prefecture and gradually spread nationwide, including to Uwajima City.Pearl farmers from Mie Prefecture ventured into the Uwa Sea. Starting with mother-of-pearl harvesting work, Nami’s grandfather later learned pearl farming techniques, becoming part of the first generation of pearl farmers in this area.

In recent years, the Uwa Sea area, including Uwajima City, has seen a decline in production compared to its peak due to issues like mass deaths of Akoya oysters, an aging workforce, and a lack of successors. However, new business developments are also advancing, such as pursuing even higher quality and implementing brand strategies.

Amid these environmental changes, Yuhei Yamashita is now the pillar supporting the Yamashita family’s pearl farming.

Currently at the center of the Yamashita family’s pearl farming operations, Yuhei says, “Even with the same mother oyster, the same nucleus, the same sea, and the same cultivation methods, differences emerge depending on the producer. In the past, techniques and know-how were kept secret, but that trend is fading now.I’m a rookie in my fourth year of pearl farming. With the fearlessness of a newcomer, I’m eagerly asking questions everywhere,” he says with a laugh. It is precisely because they are diligently cultivating pearls through their own trial and error that they can sensitively perceive the unique beauty of each individual pearl.

Rich hues and beautiful luster created solely by nature’s power

Generally, pearls are valued for being perfectly round, free of blemishes or dimples, and possessing a strong luster. However, such pearls account for less than 1-2% of the tens of thousands harvested annually. Therefore, “L’ de pearl” actively uses pearls with unique individuality, even if they lack conventional market value, transforming them into jewelry.While occasionally using near-round pearls, the collection primarily features uniquely shaped pearls like baroque, drop, and feathered varieties. Furthermore, only the processing necessary to preserve the pearl’s quality is applied, allowing the wearer to enjoy the rich, natural hues with their subtle variations.Because these distinctive pearls are designs in themselves, we consciously use small, delicate components to highlight their beauty. This reflects Nami’s vision: “Precisely because these aren’t pearls that easily grow into conventional beauty, I want them to be pieces cherished and passed down across generations.”

To convey this vision directly, she has carefully crafted her sales approach. While primarily sold through her online shop, she also participates in pop-up stores and events. Her semi-custom service, where customers select their favorite pearl from a variety of colors, shapes, and sizes to be made into jewelry, is particularly popular.

While driven by a desire to bring recognition to previously undervalued pearls, Nami maintains the pride of a professional from a long-established pearl farming business, working with pearls daily. She insists on uncompromising standards for the deep luster, sheen, and color beauty characteristic of Akoya pearls, even if their shape is irregular.”Seeing customers select each pearl individually—whether for themselves as a one-of-a-kind treasure or as a gift for someone special—brings me joy. It’s a moment of pure happiness,” says Nami. She continuously experiments with designs and pricing to make pearls accessible not just for formal occasions, but also for everyday wear.

Transforming a pearl, one of a kind in the world, into someone’s special radiance

“There are countless pearl accessories in the world. That’s precisely why defining our unique selling point is challenging,” Nami reflects. “But I believe our greatest strength lies in using pearls we’ve cultivated ourselves. Because of this, we deeply understand the inherent beauty of pearls and know how to bring it out.” Guided by this philosophy, she began with online sales via social media, gradually expanding her reach through pop-up events, temporary sales at rental spaces, and limited-time pop-up stores.

Amid these efforts, the brand has also expanded, launching the “NAMIOTO COLLECTION.” This line features deeply blue pearls selected from the diverse array of pearls they cultivate, the name blending Nami’s name with the Japanese word for ocean waves.

This shift has also impacted the pearl farming operations. Yuhei shares, “I used to be desperate to cultivate perfectly round, white pearls with excellent nacre. But after my sister started making jewelry, I realized I didn’t have to be so fixated on existing standards of value. Knowing they could be utilized in new ways made me feel more at ease. At the same time, it also fueled my desire to cultivate even better pearls.”As times change, so do the nature of fishing and people’s values. In this era of diversity, L’de pearl’s accessories may well become cherished by many, regardless of age or gender.

The post Preserving nature’s irreplaceable beauty. Yamashita Pearl Co., Ltd. L’ de pearl Uwajima City, Ehime Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Shizuoka City, located in central Shizuoka Prefecture, is blessed with a commercial sphere along the Tōkaidō route connecting Japan’s major cities: Tokyo, Nagoya, and Osaka. While this city is famously known as a mecca for plastic models and scale models, home to Tamiya Co., Ltd., one of the world’s leading comprehensive model manufacturers, its other facet as a longstanding “hub of traditional crafts” is surprisingly less known.

Suruga lacquerware, Suruga maki-e, and Suruga woodturning are designated as prefectural folk crafts, while Suruga bamboo filigree, Suruga hina ornaments, and Suruga hina dolls are designated as national traditional crafts.The development of such diverse crafts in this region stems from the presence of Lord Tokugawa Ieyasu and a specialized division of labor network cultivated over many years. Standing on this foundation of tradition, a workshop has proposed a new type of hina doll, “Kioku Hitoe,” designed to fit the modern family structure, attracting attention nationwide. This is “Ningyo Kobo Sakyo,” a doll workshop with over 100 years of history since its founding.

From “Play” to “Display”: The Roots of Hina Dolls

While there are various theories about the origins of hina dolls, one traces back to the Heian period and the “Hina-asobi” (doll play) enjoyed by young girls in the imperial court. “Hina” means “small and lovely,” and for the children of nobility at the time, it was an everyday play similar to what we now call “pretend play.”

A dramatic shift occurred in this “everyday play” during the early Edo period. When the Edo shogunate designated March 3rd as “Joushi no Sekku” (the formal name for Hina Matsuri), an event wishing for girls’ healthy growth and happiness, it sparked a leap in doll-making techniques. The kimonos and facial features evolved into lavish and splendid forms, leading to the hina dolls we know today.

While Kyoto is often associated as the production center for these elegant dolls, Iwatsuki Ward in Saitama City, Saitama Prefecture, actually holds Japan’s top spot for doll shipment value. Shizuoka City in Shizuoka Prefecture boasts the top position as the production center for hina accessories.

Craft Culture Rooted in Sunpu, the City Beloved by the Ruler

Sakyo has its workshop in Shizuoka City. The contributions of Lord Tokugawa Ieyasu to the city’s craft history are immeasurable.

In the early Edo period, when Lord Ieyasu retired to Sunpu Castle (present-day Aoi Ward, Shizuoka City), he summoned skilled artisans from across the nation—master carpenters, joiners, lacquerers, and metalworkers. These artisans settled in the castle town, and their techniques were passed down through generations, forming the foundation of Shizuoka’s crafts today.

Among these, the “Suruga Hina-gu” items—such as folding screens, chests (wooden boxes for storing bridal trousseaus), and sanpo (square stands for offering items)—were overwhelmingly significant. Made using the same processes as genuine furniture and furnishings, they dominated the domestic market, accounting for about 90% of production at their peak.

Furthermore, Shizuoka Prefecture held about 70% of the national market share for producing the torso (torso handles) of hina dolls, which became the foundation for the development of “Suruga Hina Dolls” as a craft.This differs from the origins of Suruga Hina-gu. Its roots are said to lie in the “Tsuchitenjin” clay figurines depicting Sugawara no Michizane, used during seasonal festivals in Shizuoka Prefecture’s Shida District (now parts of Shimada City, Fujieda City, and Yaizu City), where Tenjin worship flourished since the Edo period. These figurines were dressed in costumes. A key feature was the costumes being divided into upper and lower parts.Unlike Kyoto-made hina dolls with one-piece costumes, this design enabled the division of labor in costume production, leading to mass production and increased output.

Since 1994 (Heisei 6), when “Suruga Hina Accessories” and “Suruga Hina Dolls” were designated as National Traditional Crafts, their status as a brand has been established. However, prior to this, the production was primarily characterized as OEM, supplying individual parts to wholesalers nationwide. Consequently, despite its significant production share, the region’s recognition as a production center was relatively low.

“Shizuoka had many artisans specializing in each component,” explains Kazuhito Mochizuki, the company’s third-generation chairman. “People who made the wooden bases, applied lacquer, painted maki-e designs, crafted metal fittings. Wholesalers would go around collecting these parts and assembling them into finished dolls.”

Sakyo’s roots also lie within this artisan ecosystem; its founder was a metal fittings craftsman for furniture and mikoshi portable shrines.

“Hina doll accessories include nearly 40 types of items like chests and trunks, all requiring intricate metal fittings. However, since fittings are just parts, the work could disappear depending on the wholesaler. I thought if I became the wholesaler coordinating the entire set of hina accessories, the business would stabilize. That was the start of Sakyo.”

Thus, the first generation built his fortune as a wholesaler coordinating hina doll accessories with artisans in Shizuoka City. Yet, he always knew the main attraction of the hina display was the dolls themselves, and he eventually wanted to handle those too.

To that end, he first sent his son to apprentice under craftsmen in Iwatsuki City, Saitama Prefecture (now Iwatsuki Ward, Saitama City), a major production center for dolls.

That son was the father of the second-generation president, Kazuto. While learning hina doll making at his apprenticeship, the second-generation president began thinking, just as the first had intended, “Why not handle hina dolls themselves, not just the accessories?”

This was because, when the second-generation president joined the family business, the torso parts of hina dolls were typically sourced from Shizuoka Prefecture, where Tenjin dolls (festival dolls depicting Sugawara no Michizane) were thriving.The “head” (kashira), which forms the face of the doll, was typically sourced from various production areas like Iwatsuki, and the dolls were assembled into complete pieces at wholesalers in Tokyo. If they could assemble these components themselves, they could handle both the accessories and the dolls as a complete package.

For the second-generation owner, who had closely observed and learned from the first-generation’s work as a wholesaler, recognizing the demand for this was a natural progression.

However, ideas and inspiration alone don’t make a viable business. This is where the founder’s vision came into play: “Through apprenticeship, we could build relationships with hina doll artisans and with Iwatsuki, the major production center.”

“My father used connections from his apprenticeship to arrange direct purchases of doll heads from Iwatsuki artisans. That was crucial,” says Chairman Kazuto.

Thus, Sakyo became the first wholesaler in Shizuoka City to handle complete sets of hina doll displays.

The second-generation president’s distribution strategy—to bypass Tokyo wholesalers and deliver complete sets directly to Kansai retailers, thereby targeting market share in the Kansai region—proved pivotal. “Our proximity to Kansai (compared to Kanto) is definitely a geographical advantage,” he reasoned. This strategy, aligned with the era’s context, propelled Sakyo’s significant growth.

The Benefits of the Second Baby Boom

The era coincided with the onset of Japan’s high economic growth period. Fueled by the second baby boom, hina dolls flew off the shelves.

It was an era when seven-tier displays were mainstream, and amassing volume was the top priority. By wholesaling complete sets of hina decorations—which were often purchased separately—Sakyo significantly reduced the expenses and burden on retailers.

“Come year-end, wholesalers from the Osaka area would arrive in huge trucks to stock up,” recalls Chairman Kazuto, looking back on those days. “They’d stuff their belly bands with stacks of cash, all scrambling to get first dibs.”

The Era of Variety and Small Quantities: The Third Generation Pursued “The Hina Dolls He Wanted”

Later, when Chairman Kazuto took over the family business as the third generation, the period of high economic growth had settled down, and the lives of the people were about to change significantly.

Around this time, across all industries, the trend shifted from mass production to high-mix, low-volume production to meet consumer needs.

Chairman Kazuto reasoned, “Most buyers are my generation. So I should just make what I want.” He broke with convention by altering traditional color combinations for doll costumes, using materials like Shizuoka’s traditional Enshu cotton corduroy and pure white Nishijin-ori silk. He dedicated himself to developing “the hina dolls I personally desired,” unconstrained by old frameworks.

The times also saw the rise of nuclear families. Along with changes in housing conditions, the main product shifted from the lavishly decorated tiered displays (“dan-kazari”) to the simpler “prince and princess displays” (featuring only the male and female dolls). Giving the central male and female dolls distinct personalities proved successful, achieving differentiation.

However, becoming more compact meant fewer dolls and accessories per set, leading to lower unit prices.

Despite achieving differentiation, amid the increasingly pronounced decline in birthrates, there was a sense of crisis that unless more distinct branding was pursued, the business would eventually become unsustainable.

It was the fourth generation, currently serving as President and Representative Director, Takuya, the son, who dispelled the third generation’s sense of crisis.

Passing the Torch to the Next Generation: The Fourth Generation Discovers New Possibilities

Takaya Mochizuki, the fourth-generation head, took over the family business during his sophomore year of college.

“I originally went to university with no intention of succeeding Sakyo. But when my older brother decided not to take over, the baton was passed to me in a casual way, like ‘Well, then, it’s you.'”

With the workshop and his home separated, Takuya rarely set foot in the workshop and had little understanding of the industry’s situation. Hina dolls were not a familiar presence in his life.

“I entered the field without even knowing traditional industries were in decline. All around me were companies with no successors, saying things like ‘Maybe we should close in five years.’ That’s when I first felt a sense of urgency.”

After graduating from university, he spent two years working in sales at a real estate systems company in Tokyo to gain social experience before returning to Shizuoka. What awaited him, however, was a workplace that was incomparably more analog than his previous job.

That’s when Takaya started using social media to share information. As he was practically a novice when it came to being a craftsman, his drive was to find ways to contribute to the company without spending money. His experience working in Tokyo, where he had also been involved in digital work, proved valuable.

At the time, using Instagram for business was still rare, and he gained 10,000 followers in just four months. By consistently sharing the company’s unique approach through easy-to-understand visuals, inquiries from media outlets also began to increase.

Giving shape to cherished memories: The birth of “Kikuhitoe”

As a unique business vision for the fourth generation began to take shape, a new turning point arrived. It came from a proposal by the Creative Director at Hakuhodo’s group company, SIGNING: “Many people have sentimental attachments to children’s clothes and don’t want to throw them away, but they can’t display them either. Could we combine this problem with the concept of hina dolls?”

He himself was a father of a three-year-old, making this a challenge rooted in personal experience. Thus, after about a year and a half from the initial concept, “Kiyoku Hitoe” was born in 2024.

Its defining feature is transforming cherished children’s clothing into costumes for hina dolls. T-shirts, dresses, undershirts—any fabric can be used for the dolls after being reinforced with backing.

Memorable clothes are reborn as hina dolls. The stories woven into each and every one of these dolls are the very essence of “Kioku Hitoe’s” value.

For the doll’s costume—composed of multiple layers like the outer robe (omote-ginu), underlayers, single layer (hitoe), karagoromo, and collar—we decide together with the customer which fabrics to use and where to place each pattern.

“(We) cut into items dear to the customer’s heart, reshape them, and present them anew. Since we’re entrusted with precious memories, we always proceed with the utmost care and consideration, approaching each individual’s memories with genuine thoughtfulness.”

Prices start at around ¥150,000 for a set of male and female dolls. While not inexpensive compared to market rates, it is a fair price for a one-of-a-kind custom piece. Considering the added value, it likely holds even greater worth for the customer.

Recently, they introduced a new initiative: a plan where customers can create their own “Kiyoku Hitoe” (a single-layer memory piece).

This experiential plan goes beyond online or mail-order interactions. Customers bring cherished clothing or fabric directly to the workshop and collaborate with the company’s artisans to complete the dolls on-site.

Typically, creating a Kiyoku Hitoe takes 4 to 6 months from start to delivery. However, with this plan, the entire process—from consultation to completion—takes only about half a day.

To significantly shorten the schedule, artisans who normally handle multiple tasks simultaneously prioritize the experience plan, working as a team of 4-5 people exclusively for that day. Additionally, intricate parts and sewing that are usually outsourced are handled entirely by the artisans within the workshop.

All of this stems from a desire to avoid wasting the precious time of participants who make the effort to visit the workshop in person, and to provide an immersive, moving experience.

To halt regular production and concentrate significant artisan resources on this plan, pricing is higher than standard single-layer kimonos. However, it allows real-time consultation with skilled artisans on intricate pattern placement and color balance, enabling meticulous attention to detail within a short timeframe—truly the pinnacle of custom-made products.

The experience of personally adding touches to a hina doll that weaves memories further heightens its special feeling.

Between tradition and innovation. A father pushing his son forward.

However, new challenges like “Kiyoku Hitoe” naturally attract criticism.

The Mochizuki family remains unfazed by the stinging remarks from fellow artisans.

“People who wouldn’t buy traditional hina dolls might buy ‘Kiyoku Hitoe’ because it’s different. Even if it strays a little from convention, if it sparks renewed interest in hina displays, isn’t that a good thing?”

Creating new demand is what opens the future for traditional industries. Kazuto is convinced of this regarding Takuya’s challenge. That’s why, as a parent and as a mentor, he decided to support him no matter what criticism came.

Expanding to the next generation. From celebration to everyday art.

Having successfully launched “Kiyoku Hitoe,” Takaya’s next goal is to establish demand for “Hina Dolls” as “art.”

To do this, he must overcome Japan’s deep-rooted animism—the belief that all things possess souls or spirits. This unique spirituality persisted precisely because monotheistic religions never took root in Japan.

“Japanese people can’t just throw away dolls. Even when letting them go, it’s not a simple toss in the trash—they’re ritually burned at shrines or temples as a form of mourning.”

However, Takuya had heard from his predecessor that “during the Edo period, there were many stalls selling hina dolls around the hanamachi entertainment districts. People would buy a doll as a gift before going to meet their favorite performer.”

While surprised to learn there was demand beyond seasonal festivals, he also saw potential for hina dolls, considering the current boom in figures and their soaring global trading prices.

That’s precisely why Takuya wanted to elevate their cultural value beyond just being ceremonial items.

His benchmark is Hiroshi Nakamura, the fourth-generation master dollmaker at Nakamura Ningyo, a long-established Hakata doll shop in Fukuoka City, Fukuoka Prefecture. Nakamura is currently attracting global attention for his unique approach to expressing Hakata dolls through themes like sports and monsters.

“I think Mr. Nakamura’s work exemplifies this perfectly. I want to dispel the image that ‘dolls = scary’ and make them something you can display as art or interior decor. Ideally, I’d like to elevate them to the level of collectible art, like BE@RBRICK or LLADRO.”

He has already begun challenges toward this goal.

For the 400th anniversary of Lord Ieyasu’s death, he commissioned Osaka University of Arts, an authority in figure production, to recreate Lord Ieyasu’s face. This led to the completion of a hina doll depicting Lord Ieyasu. He also envisions using AI-synthesized faces of parents, instead of commercially available heads, to create 3D-printed dolls representing future children.

In this way, Sakyo preserves the tradition and essence of hina dolls while flexibly incorporating the trends of the times and technological advances. In the artisan town nurtured by Tokugawa Ieyasu, they have pursued innovation suited to each era for over 100 years. From parts to wholesalers, from wholesalers to manufacturing and distribution, and now to personalization.

“Hina dolls have yet to break free from their role as tools for staging Japan’s traditional celebrations. While enhancing their inherent value is important, their appeal will grow even more by presenting them as art to the world and creating pieces that earn ‘likes’ from people overseas.” Takaya’s words carried a strong determination to forge new value.

The post Hina dolls embodying the artisan spirit of Sunpu. The challenge of “Doll Workshop Sakyo,” which layers time and emotion over generations. / Shizuoka City, Shizuoka Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Located in Yahata Higashi Ward, northern Fukuoka Prefecture, the Yū Dyeing and Weaving Studio is a workshop dedicated to Kokura-ori, a traditional craft of which Kitakyushu is proud. Studio founder Noriko Tsuki continues to create vibrant Kokura-ori textiles, dyeing threads with plants and weaving them by hand. What is the source of this creativity that captivates people both in Japan and abroad?

Thick and durable. Captivating with beautiful vertical stripes.

Kokura-ori is a simple weave created by crossing warp and weft threads one by one. Its distinctive feature, however, is the high density of warp threads—used in greater quantity, approximately three times that of the weft. This makes the weft threads less visible, allowing the vertical stripes to appear sharply defined and radiate a captivating beauty.It is a unique fabric with a smooth texture, creating a three-dimensional effect through the gradations of thread color.

During the Edo period, it was used for hakama and obi. In the Meiji era, it circulated as student uniforms.

Originating in the Edo period in the Buzen Kokura domain (present-day Kitakyushu City), Kokura-ori emerged. As this region was a cotton-producing area, samurai women began weaving textiles using cotton yarn.Its thick, durable fabric gradually led to its use for samurai hakama and obi, spreading nationwide. It gained fame when Tokugawa Ieyasu wore it as a haori during falconry, earning the praise “Kokura-ori that even a spear cannot pierce” and becoming highly valued.

During the Meiji era, the gray fabric “Shimofuri Kokura,” made by twisting black and white threads, became popular nationwide as the summer uniform for male students. However, as cheap machine-woven imitations began appearing in various regions, production in Kokura waned, overwhelmed by this trend.Furthermore, Kokura flourished as an “iron town” with its steelworks, and by the early Showa period, the last Kokura-ori factory closed, leading to the discontinuation of the fabric.

A Fateful Encounter with a Scrap of Kokura-ori at an Antique Shop

Nestled in the quiet foothills of Yahata Higashi Ward, Kitakyushu City, lies the Yusei Dyeing and Weaving Studio. Its director, textile artist Noriko Tsukiji, is the person who revived Kokura-ori. Born and raised in Kitakyushu, Tsukiji, who loved literature, became captivated by the beauty of Noh costumes while studying classical performing arts like Noh and Joruri at university.

While visiting a Nishijin-ori weaving workshop in Kyoto, Tsukiji was moved by the mastery of the artisans. Yet she realized that what she truly wanted to express was not patterns, but “color.” She boldly dropped out of university and threw herself into the world of dyeing and weaving.After mastering the fundamentals of yarn dyeing and weaving at a textile research institute in Kitakyushu, he traveled to Kumejima Island in Okinawa. There, he learned tsumugi weaving by assisting elderly women at a workshop producing Kumejima Tsumugi, a fabric passed down since the Ryukyu Kingdom era.Kumejima is considered the birthplace of tsumugi, the weave that spread nationwide from there. Kumejima tsumugi is also designated as an Important Intangible Cultural Property of Japan, making it an essential place to learn dyeing and weaving techniques. However, he struggled to create a piece he felt truly satisfied with.

One day, a shocking encounter came to Tsukiji. At an antique shop she happened to visit, she found a scrap of Kokura-ori fabric. This small piece, about 10 centimeters, showed only vertical stripes despite being woven. When the shopkeeper told the astonished Tsukiji, “This is Edo-period Kokura-ori,” she only associated Kokura-ori with the gray student uniforms of her youth.The beautiful gradient of the vertical stripes, the substantial yet silk-like texture, appeared to Tsukishiro as something incredibly fresh, hard to believe it was from about 150 years ago. “To discover that the very fabric I aspired to weave existed right in the land where I was born and raised! It was such a happy encounter,” Tsukishiro says, his eyes narrowing with satisfaction.

Reviving and Regenerating Kokura Ori 

At the time, no one around him knew about Edo-period Kokura-ori. Tsukishiro had the scraps sent to the Industrial Research Institute for weave analysis. There, he learned that while most textiles have a 1:1 warp-to-weft ratio, Kokura-ori had a 2:1 ratio, meaning it had more warp threads.She immediately tried weaving with that ratio, but couldn’t achieve the smoothness of the old scrap. Further investigation revealed that the smooth texture came from years of use.

Tsukishiro sought to create fabric with a smooth texture from the start, not through aging. By using finer threads, increasing the number of threads, and raising the density, he achieved a lustrous sheen reminiscent of silk, despite the fabric being cotton. This can be seen as Tsukishiro’s “recreation” and evolution of the historic Kokura-ori. Thus, in 1984, Kokura-ori was revived. Tsukishiro began presenting his work as Kokura-ori, paying homage to his predecessors.It was precisely the instantly recognizable, vibrant striped patterns that made it widely accepted. His first work was selected for the Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition.

However, even after successfully restoring the technique, it took three years to fully master the design of the satisfying Kokura stripes. Driven by a desire to use color more freely, unbound by traditional color schemes, he wove the pale pink obi “Plum Blossom Season,” which won the Asahi Shimbun Award at the Western Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition in 1991.To date, she has produced over 600 pieces. Today, Kitakyushu is recognized as a center for Kokura-ori weaving, and several new artisans have emerged.

Borrowing the power of plants to express translucent colors 

Tsuki dyes cotton threads using natural materials like plants found around her workshop. “Dyeing with plants is incredibly fascinating. For example, rosemary dyes a yellowish color before the flowers bloom, but once they bloom, it dyes a stronger olive hue. Even the same plant changes color depending on the season.”

Unlike chemical dyes, plant-based dyeing takes time and doesn’t happen instantly, making it ideal for creating gradations. You can add more thread later to achieve lighter shades, and it easily reflects whims or moods, perfectly aligning with human rhythms. “Above all,” Tsukiji says, “the soft, naturally derived colors have a translucent quality.”

Preparing thousands of warp threads before weaving

Due to its characteristic of raised vertical stripes, Kokura-ori fabric has many constraints—it cannot form check or horizontal stripe patterns. “But that also means Kokura-ori’s distinctive character remains consistent. Since only the warp thread colors show, the thread’s color is directly reflected—that’s its strength. So the key is how many ‘paints’ you possess, which is why we constantly dye threads.”

Preparing these threads in advance according to the design, known as “warping,” is also a crucial process. The warp threads are arranged on the warping machine, rotated, and combined into the necessary colors while considering factors like length and tension before being wound onto the beam. Preparing around 2,300 warp threads for a single obi involves this painstaking, mind-numbing work. It is precisely this effort that produces the delicate colors.

Textiles suited to the climate and character of Kitakyushu

When Tsukiji weaves Kokura-ori on her loom, it’s not a light “tick-tock” sound that resonates, but a loud “thud-thud!”It’s a surprisingly intense sound, hard to imagine coming from such a delicately beautiful fabric. “I weave with strong force to increase the thread density. If I weave gently, the fabric becomes fluffy and lacks firmness. If I slack off, irregularities in the weave become noticeable. So once I start weaving, I just focus intently and keep going.”

“It’s a very stubborn fabric,” Tsukiji-san says with a smile. “This region, even after the tradition once faded, has stubbornly woven this difficult fabric for 400 years. It’s inflexible and clumsy—a fabric that’s quintessentially Kitakyushu.”

Modern, refined textiles captivate the world

Hand-weaving yields limited production, so to introduce Kokura-ori to more people, Tsukiji launched the machine-woven brand “Kokura Shima Shima” in 2007, which she oversees. This allows for the creation of wider fabrics impossible with hand-weaving, enabling larger-scale works like furniture, interiors, and art.Collaborations with global creators like architect Kengo Kuma and Kunihiko Morinaga of the fashion brand ANREALAGE consistently draw the attention of highly discerning individuals.

However, Tsukiji’s core focus remains hand-weaving in the workshop. “No matter how many colors overlap, I aim for a world where colors respect each other, playing a symphony,” Tsukiji states. While he has expressed abstract worlds through Kokura weaving until now, over the past two or three years, he has been challenging himself to incorporate concreteness within them. For example, within vertical stripes, a single diagonal line like rain falling…”Inorganic vertical stripes and organic natural elements seem incompatible, but I want to bring that into the world of vertical stripes. I’m still in the prototyping phase, but I hope to complete it someday.”

Tsukiji-san restores and revives Kokura-ori while seeking new forms of expression. The world eagerly awaits what new beauty will emerge from Tsukiji-san’s meticulous, refined Kokura-ori, woven with such expansive sensibility.

The post Ogura-ori, expressing delicate colors through vertical stripes. Yusei Dyeing and Weaving Studio, Noriko Tsukishiro / Kitakyushu City, Fukuoka Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Long ago in snowy Aomori, cotton cultivation was difficult, so cloth was used with great care. Worn-out kimonos were eventually cut into strips and woven on a floor loom to make work clothes and other items. This later became known as Nanbu Saki-ori. Teruko Kobayashi carries on the founder’s vision and is striving to spread the appeal of Nanbu Saki-ori in the Reiwa era.

What is Nanbu Saki-ori?

The historical background of Nanbu Saki-ori, truly unique to this land

Born from the wisdom of women who cherished their possessions, Nanbu Saki-ori boasts a tradition spanning over 200 years, tracing its history back to the Edo period.In snowy Aomori, cotton was difficult to grow. Cotton and old cotton cloth transported by Kitamae ships were extremely precious, so farmers at that time wove the natural fiber hemp they cultivated into cloth for clothing. They didn’t discard scraps either; they layered them for sashiko stitching or, finally, tore them and joined them to create a single piece of cloth. This was the prototype of Nanbu Saki-ori.

When the railway opened in 1893, worn cotton fabrics began circulating in this region. Farmers started weaving them on floor looms, using threads from unraveled hemp sacks as warp threads and thin strips of worn cloth as weft threads.The thick, coarse-textured saki-ori weave was well-suited to this region’s harsh, cold winds and was used for work clothes and kotatsu covers. “In this way,” Kobayashi explained, “the people of this area have lived by devising various ingenious methods to overcome the cold.”

Diverse yet each a one-of-a-kind piece

Despite being a very simple weave—”hemp yarn and old cotton shredded into strips about 1 cm wide woven on a floor loom”—the variety of weaving techniques is by no means limited.The most basic plain weave, the saguri weave where cloth and thread are interwoven alternately, the ichimatsu weave and ajiro weave created by warping two colors of thread, the interesting diagonal pattern of the hikikaeshi weave, the tsuzure weave that creates patterns within the fabric, and many other variations exist.

Today, while utilizing traditional techniques on floor looms, it’s possible to create a wide range of items suited to modern life—such as vibrant kotatsu covers, tote bags, bedspreads, tapestries, and slippers.

One of the major charms of Nanbu Saki-ori is that “you can create original items found nowhere else in the world.” “Even if you use the same fabric, the texture changes completely depending on when you weave it in and how much force you apply while weaving,” laughs Kobayashi. “Even if you try to make the same thing, you can never make it twice.” This is why each piece of Nanbu Saki-ori is said to be one-of-a-kind.

The Beginnings of the Nanbu Sashiko Preservation Society: A Miraculous Encounter

It all started when Kobayashi’s sister, Eiko Kanno, then 35 years old in 1971, attended the distribution of her beloved aunt’s belongings.A purple sash made of split weave lay in a corner of the room, seemingly worn out and unwanted. Yet Kanno was deeply drawn to its rich color and the meticulous texture of its weave. “If no one wants it…” she thought, and took it home. The more she looked at that sash, the more captivated she became by the warm, handwoven character of the fabric, and she grew increasingly eager to learn about split weaving.

However, by that time, Nanbu Sashiori was already on the verge of extinction, as people considered “weaving worn-out clothes and rags shameful.” Persistently searching for someone who could teach her its roots and techniques, she eventually found Ms. Kiyé Higashiyama and Ms. Mise Akasaka in Towada Lake Town the following year.Both women initially refused, telling her, “You won’t earn a single penny doing rag weaving,” but through her sincere and repeated visits, she finally gained permission to learn.

A Life Devoted to Nanbu Saki-ori with Burning Passion

Kanno-san reevaluated the value of Nanbu Saki-ori, learned its techniques and spirit to become an inheritor herself, and established the Nanbu Saki-ori Preservation Society on July 7, 1975, Tanabata Day. She started a “Saki-ori Classroom” at her home, pouring her heart and soul into promoting the weaving. Her contributions were highly recognized, earning her the title of “Aomori Prefecture Traditional Craftsman” and many other honors.

Driven by his desire to “introduce Nanbu Saki-ori to as many people as possible,” he lobbied Towada City for years. His efforts culminated in 2002 with the opening of the Towada City facility, the Master Craftsman Workshop “Nanbu Saki-ori no Sato,” adjacent to the Towada Pia Roadside Station.The sight of about 75 looms lined up is spectacular, most of which were collected by Ms. Kanno. “She gathered them not only within Towada City and the Nanbu region, but also traveled to places like Fukushima Prefecture whenever she heard about them,” Mr. Kobayashi told us, gazing fondly at the looms.

After successfully organizing the Nanbu Saki-ori Festival in Towada in October 2003 to commemorate the 30th anniversary of the preservation society’s founding, Kanno passed away in March 2004. He had been suffering from cancer but kept it hidden until the very end. He was 67 years old.

Sister Carries On the Legacy

Kobayashi-san explained that in an era when weaving rags was considered shameful, she initially faced social disapproval and was against Nanbu Sakiori. However, about ten years after Sugano-san began working with Nanbu Sakiori, Kobayashi-san tried it herself on a whim and was immediately captivated. “Sitting at the loom, touching the fabric, and weaving was truly enjoyable. It was a real healing experience for me, who was exhausted at the time.Before I knew it, working until 1 or 2 in the morning became normal. That’s when I truly began to take Nanbu Saki-ori seriously,” Kobayashi says with a smile.

Today, the Nanbu Sashiko Preservation Society has 130 members, most of whom are housewives. While women face various worries and hardships, like raising children, the society strives to embody the founder’s vision: “Leave all that behind when you come here.” They make every effort to ensure no one accumulates stress while participating.About 50 students attend the weekly Wednesday classes, which have no set start or end times. The group gets along so well that laughter is constant. They work to complete one item per year for the city’s cultural festival, ensuring everyone can submit their work.

Beyond the regular classes, they offer experiences, attracting many foreign visitors and groups of children and students. “It seems especially fresh for the kids; they weave with such enjoyment,” Ms. Kobayashi says, her eyes crinkling. She recalls one child who came for an experience and then pleaded, “Daddy, I want this loom. Please buy it for me.” The number of people who have experienced weaving here has surpassed 11,000.

Preserving the Founder’s Vision for Nanbu Saki-ori

The used cloth used for the weft threads comes from donations nationwide, including yukata from hotels and inns, and even sumo stables. “Some people send us cloth, saying, ‘My grandmother passed away,’ or ‘My mother passed away,’ but it feels wasteful to throw it away, so could you take it?'” says Kobayashi. “That’s why we’re supported by everyone.”

While Kobayashi wishes to spread Nanbu Sashiko with this widespread support, he also states, “This isn’t a facility for training artists. Passing on sashiko to future generations and keeping it alive is the most important thing.”Back when Ms. Kanno was still running the workshop, other municipalities with growing numbers of enthusiasts apparently offered, “We want to hold a contest. Please plan it and judge it for us.” However, Ms. Kobayashi firmly refused, believing that裂織 is absolutely not something to be competitive about. “裂織 isn’t about competition,” Ms. Kobayashi told us. “Everyone is a first-place winner. You should just do it freely, following your own sensibilities. That’s one of the strong convictions I inherited from my sister.”

The Society’s Half-Century Journey and Future Initiatives

In 2025, the Nanbu Saki-ori Preservation Society will celebrate its 50th anniversary. As part of the commemorative events, themed “Connecting to the Next Generation,” they are holding a commemorative exhibition and free hands-on sessions. They are showcasing over 500 pieces demonstrating the inherited techniques, displaying a 50-meter-long woven fabric created collaboratively across all their classrooms, and attempting various other challenges.Driven by the belief that “Nanbu Sashiko is a cultural treasure our region can be proud of and has the potential to become a future local industry,” the association is producing and selling not only traditional pieces but also sashiko designs suited to modern tastes. They even received an order from a Japanese designer living in France for indigo-dyed sashiko fabric to be used in men’s suits.

“Nowadays, everything runs on electricity with the push of a button. I feel it’s essential to teach children that, just like in the past, their own hands and feet can be the energy to create things.The reason Nanbu裂織 remains timeless is probably because everyone shares that feeling of cherishing things. My mission is to make more people aware of it,” says Kobayashi. Carrying on the tradition of Nanbu裂織 and the founder’s vision, and striving to create a society where everyone has a place, Kobayashi and her team continue weaving today. They weave, one step at a time, using colorful warp threads and strips of fabric as weft threads.

The post Carrying on the Founder’s Vision: Teruko Kobayashi, Southern裂織 (Setsuori) Weaving Tradition Bearer / Towada City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

Quietly facing the wood and carefully working with his hands. Eita Kitayama, a woodworker in Ishinomaki City, Miyagi Prefecture, quietly continues his work. He spares no time or effort in each of his works and spends his days honestly tackling each one. Mr. Kitayama’s woodworking tools for daily life, dyed with plants and trees, are not only beautiful in form, but also warm and practical in some way. Behind this is a deep understanding of materials and a strong desire to create tools that will continue to be used in daily life.

A Career Traced Back to a Yearning for Craftsmanship

Mr. Kitayama grew up in a family that ran an ironworks. His grandfather, with whom he often played as a child, was a crafty man who could make anything, including bamboo-copter, stilts, and fishing rods. Kitayama says that he admired his grandfather’s skills and naturally fell in love with making things. The surrounding area was thick with plants and trees, an environment that stimulated his creativity.

Mr. Kitayama’s career began in the clothing industry, and he eventually became a furniture maker, remodeler, and store interior decorator, experiencing a variety of “making” workplaces. At the root of his seemingly disparate career paths lies a longing for craftsmanship that began at an early age.

Self-taught craftsmanship and the path to becoming an artist

While working as a furniture craftsman, Kitayama made frames and other small items from scrap wood and sold them at a marché. As he began to make connections with other artists, he began to receive orders to make stands for exhibitions. As he worked on various works, he taught himself to use machines such as lathes for cutting and processing.

At first, I couldn’t cut anything, no matter how hard I sharpened it, and the lathe kept rejecting my work,” he says. But as I continued to use them, I finally got the hang of it.

The skills he honed in this way eventually paved the way for him to become an artist. One day, an artist acquaintance asked him if he would like to participate as a guest in a private exhibition, and he exhibited a compote dish with legs that he was making at the time. The response he received was unexpectedly positive, and he decided to pursue his career as an artist.

Beautiful and Practical for Everyday Life

Kitayama’s works are characterized by graceful curves and rich colors. They are also highly practical as daily necessities. They are filled with his thoughts for daily life.

Wooden tableware has an image of being vulnerable to water, but Kitayama’s pieces are coated with glass and can be handled just like tableware made of water-resistant materials. Even if the water repellency wears off with continued use, it is no problem to recoat. The color also changes little by little, giving it an aged appearance. Some of them are used in restaurants, and the more they are used, the deeper the gradation becomes, which some customers say is cool.

Kitayama’s products can be used without inconvenience and also have interior design qualities. While blending into everyday life, they gently add color to the scenery of daily life.

New colors of wood dyed by plants and trees

The rich hues of Kitayama’s works are created by dyeing with plants and trees. While it is common to dye cloth and thread with plants and trees, Kitayama dares to dye wood, which is vulnerable to water.

When I decided to become an artist, I wanted to do something that no one else was doing. I happened to see a camellia near my parents’ house, and it hit me. I knew camellias could be used for dyeing, so I tried it and the color came out beautifully, and I thought, ‘This is it! I thought, ‘This is it!

The dyeing process differs depending on the wood, type of plant, and water quality, and it took countless trials and errors until he was satisfied with the color. Since this was not something that someone else had practiced, there was no way to do it somewhere else. He continued to try everything by himself.

The main wood used in the production process is Japanese maple. The bark is white, and the dye comes out the best among the various woods I tried. For dyes, I often use the fruit and leaves of pomegranate and camellia petals. I feel at home with these familiar materials, so I continue to use them, even now, while having them sent to me from my parents’ house.

Because it is a natural material, no two are alike. The wood has a rich individuality in texture, color, and form.

The future pioneered by the connections between people

Kitayama was fascinated by craftsmanship under the influence of his grandfather, and chose to become an artist after an acquaintance approached him. At the root of his quest for monozukuri was “connections with people. And even now, new challenges are born from his connections with people.

Breathing life back into thinned wood from the Oshika Peninsula

On the Oshika Peninsula southeast of Ishinomaki City, abandoned virgin cedar forests have become a problem. However, a recent immigrant is thinning the forest and using the cedars to make vessels. I would like to create new value by dyeing with the cedar.

While confronting local issues, Mr. Kitayama never stops moving forward with his “just give it a try” spirit. The day is not far off when he will breathe new life into thinned wood.

Creating a gallery that connects makers and users with his own hands

In addition to his work, Mr. Kitayama has another dream in mind.

There are not many people involved in crafts in Tohoku, and there are almost no galleries in Miyagi where you can exhibit your work. So I would like to set up my own gallery and create a place that connects makers and users.

Kitayama says he loves his work and sometimes finds himself working until 9:00 or 10:00 at night. I never thought I would become a writer. I’ve had many jobs, but this is the most fun I’ve ever had,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

As Kitayama says, he is sincerely devoted to wood, plants, and lathes.

The post Eita Kitayama, an enterprising woodworker who “wants to challenge what no one has done before” (Ishinomaki City, Miyagi Prefecture) first appeared on NIHONMONO.

The Aokigahara Forest, formed when lava flows from Mount Fuji’s eruption about 1,200 years ago cooled and solidified, overgrown with trees.At the workshop “Maro” in Fujikawaguchiko Town, Yamanashi Prefecture, nestled at the foot of Mount Fuji amidst expansive primeval forests, delicate glass works crafted through meticulous carving are displayed. The patterned and richly colored glass brings a soft light that blends into the lives of those who hold it.

Each piece is meticulously crafted over time.

The works of glass artist Ichichō Matsuo showcase delicate details and textures created using a technique called “cold work.”Cold work is a technique applied to chilled glass without heat, involving polishing, decoration, and carving. Edo Kiriko, where patterns are applied by cutting the glass, is one such example. The glass surface is finished with a matte, frosted texture by removing its shine through “sandblasting,” a technique that blasts sand-like abrasives onto the surface.Expressions vary by piece: some blend seamlessly to highlight the smooth, gritty feel of frosted glass, while others feature carved marks like sculptures. While coldwork is primarily a finishing technique, Matsuo’s distinctive “extra touch” is also evident in the processes leading up to this stage.

The expressive potential of glass’s unique properties

Matsuo’s works vary widely, including “guinomi” (sake cups), “shuhai” (sake bowls), and “futamono” (lidded containers). In these pieces, colored lines or floral-like patterns are created by inserting heated, rod-shaped colored glass into transparent glass and fusing them together. The colored glass rods can be straight or spiral-shaped, and when fused with the transparent glass, they create patterns that seem to float within it.

In contrast, for the “Honeycomb Pattern” series, white glass powder is applied to the colored rods during preparation to create a distinct boundary and sharp pattern against the clear glass. The term “honeycomb” refers to the hexagonal structure formed by the glass rods pushing against each other as they fuse, resulting in beautifully aligned hexagons.To create perfect hexagons, Matsuo meticulously selects materials by measuring rod thickness beforehand. He then arranges cross-sectioned rod pieces in a regular pattern, melting and solidifying them into a sheet in an electric furnace. Matsuo handles nearly every step himself, from component creation to final finishing.His meticulously crafted pieces, characterized by their texture, color, and transparency, have garnered a loyal following. His work was featured in the 2023 Tokyo glass exhibition “Containers of Light,” drawing large crowds daily.

Discovering the Feel of Glass

Matsuo first became interested in glass craft 31 years ago. Encouraged by his parents, he left his hometown of Fujikawaguchiko Town in Yamanashi Prefecture to attend a private middle-high school in Saitama Prefecture. It was there, in the school’s glass craft club, that he encountered glasswork for the first time, setting him on his current path.When he first touched glass, Matsuo recalls, “I found each change fascinating—how it melted, stretched, and curved.” He melted glass using a burner in the science lab and explored pattern-making techniques by studying books. Immersed in these fulfilling activities with his clubmates, his world was suddenly shattered when his father passed away unexpectedly during his second year of high school.

He realized he would have to make his own way from then on. He agonized over his future and what path to take after graduation. “I loved glass, and I was happy when people enjoyed the things I made,” he says, explaining his decision to pursue glass craftsmanship. Aiming to enter an art university, he spent the year after high school graduation studying drawing at a preparatory school.

Lacquer: What I Learned in College

Even while studying drawing, his passion for glass only grew. He reflected, “I was so absorbed in glass that I hadn’t paid attention to other materials.” To gain a deeper understanding of different materials first and broaden his perspective on glass craft, he deliberately applied to Kanazawa College of Art and Crafts in Ishikawa Prefecture, which didn’t have a dedicated glass department. There, Matsuo majored in the Lacquer Course within the Crafts Department.

“I sensed a similarity to glass in the ‘luster’ produced by lacquer.” Ishikawa Prefecture, home to traditional crafts like Wajima lacquerware and Yamanaka lacquerware, provided an ideal environment for studying lacquer. He visited local artisans actively working in the field and became increasingly captivated by the material’s charm.

Through studying lacquer art, he came to see lacquer as “an ‘outer material’ that decorates the surface of a work,” while glass, with its translucent nature, is “an ‘inner material’ where the view inside also becomes part of the expression.” This led him to wonder, “Couldn’t I expand expressive possibilities by utilizing glass’s color, form, and transparency, while also exploring texture and decoration?” This question became the thread leading to his current artistic style.Matsuo also notes, “I was never good at detailed work.” However, his experience with lacquer art—which demands meticulous, delicate handwork—proved invaluable for his later glass craft, especially since most glass processes rely on machinery. “By sincerely engaging with lacquer, I acquired skills without even realizing it,” he reflects on that time.

Techniques Learned in the “Glass Town”

After graduating university, he enrolled at the Toyama Glass Art Institute. For the first two years, he studied the three pillars of glass techniques in the Sculpture Department: “hot work” (techniques like glassblowing that involve melting and shaping with heat), “kiln work” (casting techniques using electric furnaces), and the aforementioned “cold work.”During the subsequent two years, while re-examining his direction as a glass artist, he felt “the sensation of glass changing form as I carved it with my hands was akin to sculpture.” His father, who worked as a woodcarver, significantly influenced this perspective.Having grown up surrounded by wood as a material, he consciously adopted cold work glass processing—where unique patterns emerge through carving, much like how patterns appear on carved wood surfaces—as his signature style.

With the goal of becoming a full-time glass artisan, he held his first solo exhibition, “Glass Treasures,” in 2006 while still a student.After graduating, he continued creating glass works while working part-time in Toyama. From 2010, he served as a teaching assistant in the Glass Course of the Craft and Fine Arts Department at Kobe Design University. During this time, he honed his skills while seeking specific advice from artist acquaintances on critiquing his work and monetization methods. In 2014, he established his studio “Maro” in his hometown of Yamanashi.

The Joy of “Shaping”

Matsuo’s works combine multiple glass craft techniques. He begins by creating parts through hot work, then uses kiln work to form the base shapes for vessels and other pieces, finally finishing the work through cold work. Generally, in techniques like glassblowing, the accidental beauty created by the artisan’s breath is valued, so few artists, like Matsuo, actively seek to intervene and refine the work.”As I continued making glass, I came to realize that ‘taking the time to ultimately complete the work in my own hands’ is the style I should value.”

While the accidental qualities of hot-work and kiln-work pieces hold their own appeal, the real fascination of carving lies in “being able to transform the shape with my own hands while expanding my vision.” Carving changes the expression, giving birth to unexpected new forms of expression. Gazing at his carefully crafted pieces, Matsuo smiles innocently, saying, “I enjoy the time spent carving.”

“I want people to store their precious things inside” – the wish embedded in his lidded vessels

Matsuo’s signature series is the “Lidded Vessels,” where soft light pools within the glass and color seeps through its transparency. This series, packed with the unique charm of glass, is named “Tamabako” (literally “jewel box”), using the word “tama” (jewel) to signify something beautiful and precious. Placed near a window or in sunlight, a gentle, soft light emerges from within.

“I feel there’s a connection between light gathering inside the glass and storing something within the lidded container. People often ask what they should put inside. I tell them, ‘Please place whatever small, precious things you hold dear,’ like an anniversary ring or an acorn a child brought home.”

She recalls a customer who once purchased one as a container for keeping ashes close by. This reminded her of her student days when creating such pieces was a theme—to make something that would make someone want to place their late father’s ashes inside. She felt a connection. “What’s ‘precious’ varies for each person, but I’d be happy if, when they glance at the lidded container I made, it helps them recall some cherished feeling.”

Finding my own voice, bit by bit

After returning to Yamanashi and establishing her studio, Matsuo describes her days as “a constant cycle of trial and error” in an environment where she had no teacher. Gradually, she refined her own style of work—pieces that blend practical usability as vessels with the beauty of craft—while incorporating feedback from those around her.

“Being alone made me realize things I’d unconsciously absorbed in my privileged environment and how I’d been trapped by preconceived notions. There were failures, but as I rethought my style, I steadily discovered what I truly wanted to do.”

There were times when poor health hindered her progress, but her resolve remained unchanged: “I want to create what I believe is good without compromise.” To adjust her pace, she reduced the frequency of her solo exhibitions, which she had held multiple times a year. In 2022, she launched a new online shop. While maintaining her own well-being and producing satisfying work, she is also exploring ways to monetize her craft using the power of the internet.Matsuo’s journey continues, driven by the goal of “sustaining this as something I love, as work, for the long term.”

I want people to discover the charm of glass

As a glass artist, Matsuo shares, “I want many people to discover the charm of glass through the pieces I create.” Speaking calmly about the “extra effort” that comes from years of accumulated experience, she says, “I know it seems wasteful, but the steady work and that extra effort are what make it ‘me.'” Holding a polished lidded vessel, her smile as she said, “I’d be happy if my creations could become part of someone else’s life going forward,” was truly memorable.

The post Carving glass—that extra effort defines who I am. Expressions that capture light and captivate. “Kobo Maro” / Fujikawaguchiko Town, Yamanashi Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

When people hear “lacquerware,” they often imagine lacquer applied to wooden objects. However, there is a technique called “tōtai shikki” (lacquerware on ceramic bodies) where lacquer is applied to pottery or porcelain. The workshop of ceramic artist Koichi Onozawa, who creates pottery using this now-rare technique, is located in the pottery town of Mashiko.

Mashiko: A Ceramic Town Preserving the Original Landscape of Satoyama

Mashiko Town, Haga District, Tochigi Prefecture, is home to Mr. Onozawa’s studio. Located in the southeastern part of Tochigi Prefecture, this town rich in nature is famous as a renowned production area for “Mashiko ware.” Mashiko ware began in the late Edo period when Keizaburo Otsuka, who trained in Kasama, discovered high-quality clay in this area and established a kiln.

Today, Mashiko Town is home to about 160 kilns of various sizes and 50 pottery shops. During the “Mashiko Pottery Fair,” held every May and November, not only local artists but also ceramic kilns from across Japan, along with craftspeople, artisans, accessory makers, and food vendors, set up stalls.While the town usually offers a quiet, nostalgic satoyama landscape, during the pottery fair period, it bustles with cars and people from within and outside the prefecture.

Mr. and Mrs. Onozawa moved to this pottery town of Mashiko in 2021.

Finding the Roots of His Style in Tochigi Prefecture, Where Fate Led Him to Relocate 

Mr. Onozawa was born in Tokyo. His father collected pottery, so he was exposed to ceramic art from a young age. He also enjoyed playing with clay and drawing as a child, and tried pottery-making during his student years.

He says he always had the profession of “potter” in mind. Upon entering university and beginning to seriously consider his future career, his desire to “become a potter” grew stronger. Resolving that “if I’m going to work, I should strive at something I love,” he studied ceramic techniques and knowledge at the Tajimi City Ceramic Design Institute in Gifu Prefecture after graduating.

After graduation, he continued making pottery while working part-time for about two years. Then, introduced by an acquaintance, he moved and opened his kiln in the Bato district of Nakagawa Town, located about an hour’s drive north of Mashiko.

Mr. Onozawa’s work is not “Mashiko ware” to begin with. At the time, he was looking for “a place within the Kanto region with low rent,” and it just so happened that a property in the Bato area became available.

However, living in this land became the catalyst for his current artistic style.

Tout ai Shikki (Lacquerware on a Ceramic Base)

Initially, Mr. Onozawa’s work centered on “yakishime” (high-temperature firing without glaze). Now, he primarily creates pieces using the “tōtai shikki” technique, where lacquer is applied after the yakishime firing.

Adjacent to Nakagawa Town, where he lived at the time, was Daigo Town in Ibaraki Prefecture. Daigo Town is a renowned production area for lacquer known as “Daigo Urushi.” Ibaraki Prefecture is Japan’s second-largest producer of domestic lacquer after Iwate Prefecture. Most of the lacquer produced in Ibaraki comes from Daigo Town and is used in high-end lacquerware like Wajima-nuri.

By chance, Mr. Onozawa found himself surrounded by lacquer. His interest piqued, he researched and learned that the technique of applying lacquer to pottery existed since the Jomon period. This led him to try it himself, which became the root of his current style.

In 2020, he found an empty workshop in Mashiko, more accessible to Tokyo, and the couple moved there in 2021. There, alongside his wife Noriko, a Japanese-style painter, they each pursue their creative work.

Drawn to History and Antiquity

Mr. Onozawa’s work involves not only lacquer but also pieces where lacquer is applied together with tin powder. “It’s easier to understand if I call it ‘ceramic-based lacquerware,’ so I use that term, but I’m not particularly fixated on that classification.”

Mr. Onozawa says he loves history and is drawn to old things. He particularly likes “Yayoi pottery.” The shapes created by ancient people through scraping and polishing feel both soft and sharp, and he wants to incorporate this into his own work. “I’m moved when I see the fingerprints of the people who made it back then. With old things, I feel like I can hear the breath of the people from that time.”

Aiming for a Fusion of Primitive and Modern

His work begins at the potter’s wheel. He rarely sketches beforehand, preferring to think as he creates. His goal is to fuse the “modern sharpness” achieved on the wheel with the “primitive, freehand softness” reminiscent of earthenware.

Even when throwing on the wheel, he avoids perfect symmetry. While tableware is typically symmetrical and “distortion-free,” Onozawa deliberately introduces distortion. He also ensures no two vessels have identical distortions, consciously creating unique pieces.Furthermore, he applies ancient techniques to the surface, such as “brush adjustment”—where joints made with wooden boards or sticks during Yayoi pottery production are smoothed or subtly reshaped—and “smoothing adjustment”—erasing the lines created by brush adjustment. This results in a matte finish retaining the handcrafted character of brush marks and color variations.From there, four types of clay in five layers are applied and dried repeatedly, followed by lacquer coating. Finally, the surface is polished with a file to express even greater gradations and diverse textures.

Though an extremely labor-intensive and time-consuming process, it is precisely this layering of techniques—adding the unique texture achievable only by human hands to the “modern sharpness” of forms created using a machine lathe—that is essential for realizing the fusion of “modernity and primitivism” envisioned by Mr. Onozawa.

Mr. Onozawa describes his creative process as “working with a sense of encapsulating the passage of time.”

Indeed, numerous techniques exist to replicate aged objects. Theme parks, familiar to many, often feature artificially created ruins, artifacts, and weathered rock surfaces to evoke their world. While these modern, technologically advanced creations are impressive, they remain imitations that merely mimic the real thing.

“To simply achieve the texture of aged pottery, there are techniques like layering glaze to create mottled effects or revealing the base clay,” says Mr. Onozawa. Yet for him, the result is merely “superficial antiquity.”Instead, what is expressed “now” through Mr. Onizawa’s world is born from a deep respect for time-honored ceramics and techniques. The resulting texture feels as if it has truly weathered the years, yet it retains a modern beauty, free from mere antiquity. This unique expression, achievable only by Mr. Onizawa, is truly one of a kind.

Encounters with the history of people and places. The footsteps of predecessors become his “master.”

Mr. Onozawa has walked his own path, never formally apprenticed to any specific person.

“When I was in Gifu, I felt the depth of Mino’s history. When I was in Bato, I encountered Koisa-yaki pottery, older than Mashiko ware, and the people who work with it. I don’t have a specific ‘master,’ but I’ve learned to feel what the predecessors did by seeing, hearing, and experiencing these things firsthand.”

Mr. Onozawa speaks of his love for history and pottery. His words convey not just a simple “liking,” but a profound respect for the paths of those who came before and for history itself.

“Actually living in Mashiko allowed me to learn history even locals didn’t know. I love discovering that this land was shaped by diverse histories, and that affection fuels my motivation to create works here.”

“I want to discover the essential nature felt through the potter’s wheel.”

Expanding his activities from solo exhibitions and workshops in Japan to overseas, Mr. Onozawa says, “Now that I’m 40, while I still have the physical strength, I’d like to try making large pieces by hand-building.”

He also enjoys contemplating the background stories behind sculptures like Rodin’s human figures, stating, “I want to do work that involves observing subjects.” Onozawa explains, “Electric pottery wheels have a certain regularity, and there’s beauty within that. I want to create works by hand while observing the objects made on that wheel.”

One can’t help but wonder if this isn’t redundant work, but that is precisely the “work that involves observing the subject” Onozawa wants to do.”By thoroughly ‘observing’ the object first made on the wheel, and then engaging with it to sense something within myself, I believe I can uncover the essential beauty inherent in the wheel,” he says. While highly intuitive, one cannot help but feel that this delicate, beautiful sensibility and thought process is the very source of his style, which bridges the present and the past.

Everything he has seen with his own eyes and felt—every new learning and discovery—has been sublimated into his work. Undoubtedly, he will continue to evolve relentlessly, much like the history of humankind.

The post Primitive beauty found within modernity. Ceramic Artist Koichi Onozawa / Mashiko Town, Haga District, Tochigi Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.