Izumo Taisha is known as the shrine of matchmaking. The massive shimenawa rope displayed in its Kagura Hall is an iconic sight that draws visitors’ eyes upward. The organization responsible for crafting this grand shimenawa is the Tonbara Branch of the Izumo Taisha Kan’no-kō Society, located in Iinan Town, Shimane Prefecture. The craft of shimenawa-making, which supports this land of myth, has been passed down as a source of pride for the town.

Giant Shimenawa Ropes Crafted in a Mountain Village Workshop

Iinan Town, located in Shimane Prefecture, is surrounded by the mountains of the Chugoku Range. It is a quiet place where snow falls in winter and is blessed with clear water and fertile fields. The “Izumo Taisha Kanno-kōsha Tonbara Branch” is responsible for crafting the large shimenawa (sacred straw ropes) at the “Oshimenawa Creation Hall” in the town. Mr. Wada serves as the branch’s representative, supporting the long-standing tradition of offering these ropes in this region.

The Tradition of Making Shimenawa Passed Down in the Mountains

The Tonbara Branch of the Izumo Taisha Agricultural Promotion Society is responsible for crafting one of the largest sacred straw ropes in Japan. Its destination is the Kagura-den Hall at Izumo Taisha, which attracts worshippers from all over the country. It measures approximately 13.6 meters in length and weighs about 5 tons. Its sheer scale is so impressive that first-time visitors instinctively stop in their tracks and look up in awe. However, the place where this magnificent shimenawa is created is a workshop located in a mountain village, far removed from the hustle and bustle of the tourist area.

The Connection Between the Giant Shimenawa and Iinan Town

The connection between Iinan Town and the giant shimenawa dates back to the 1950s. At that time, a branch of Izumo Taisha was located in the area. It is said that, as a result of this connection, local residents and worshippers began crafting shimenawa to dedicate to the shrine.

Later, in 1981, when the Izumo Taisha Kagura Hall was constructed, a request was made to create a new shimenawa. The result was a massive shimenawa measuring approximately 13.6 meters in length. To create a shimenawa of a size befitting the Kagura Hall, local residents joined forces to undertake the project. Work on the shimenawa continued, moving from the auditorium of Tonbara Elementary School to the gymnasium of the junior high school. Finally, in 2015, the “Great Shimenawa Creation Hall” was completed as a dedicated facility for shimenawa production.

The “Great Shimenawa Creation Hall,” which preserves the tradition of shimenawa to this day

Essentially, shimenawa serve as a “barrier” separating the realm where deities dwell from the world in which we live. Since ancient times, they have been displayed at shrines, household altars, and home entrances, becoming deeply ingrained in Japanese daily life. At the “Oshimenawa Creation Museum,” visitors can view photographs and materials that trace the history of shimenawa and learn about the local tradition of shimenawa-making that has been passed down through the generations.

Shimenawa woven with skilled craftsmanship

As you proceed further inside, a workshop opens up before you. There, artisans are busy weaving shimenawa ropes. Some weave, others prepare the core, and still others craft small components. The work progresses as each person fulfills their specific role. The scent of dried rice straw fills the air, and the soft sound of twisted straw bundles echoes quietly. The artisans take the straw in their hands and twist it with all their strength, shaping it into a single rope.

At first glance, making shimenawa may seem like a simple task, but creating ropes of uniform thickness requires skilled craftsmanship. How much force to apply when tightening the bundles of straw, and at what angle to twist them together—these nuances are acquired through years of experience.

Making a giant shimenawa to be hung at the Kagura Hall

While the creation of standard shimenawa ropes usually takes place in the back room of the Creative Center, the atmosphere inside changes dramatically when crafting the giant shimenawa to be hung at the Kagura Hall of Izumo Taisha. To create this massive rope, which measures approximately 13.6 meters, the entire building is utilized for the production process.

The giant shimenawa is not made from a single rope. It is completed by braiding multiple thick ropes and combining them. The process of bundling straw, twisting it together, and then assembling the structure requires a great deal of time and manpower.

Rice cultivation for rope-making also takes place in Iinan Town

The production of the giant shimenawa begins in the spring, with the rice planting. The basic principle is to use materials produced locally in Iinan Town, and there are rice paddies within the town specifically designated for shimenawa. The variety of glutinous rice grown here is called “Akaho Mochi.” It is stickier than ordinary glutinous rice and is characterized by its resistance to breaking when twisted into a rope. Such sturdy rice is essential for making massive ropes like the giant shimenawa.

Unlike rice grown for consumption, the rice used for shimenawa is harvested before the grains mature. This is because the stalks, while still green and with strong fibers, produce a stronger and more beautiful rope. The harvested rice is dried, bundled, and eventually twisted into rope. Freshly made shimenawa retains a faint hint of the rice’s green hue. Over time, the color fades, eventually transforming into the familiar, subdued brown seen at shrines.

The Kagura Hall will be renovated this summer

Toward the end of the production process, there is a stage known as “grand twisting.” This involves bundling together numerous thick ropes and twisting them into a single, massive rope. Since this is difficult to accomplish with machinery alone, it requires the combined strength of many people. In Iinan Town, volunteers are recruited to participate in this stage, and local residents and other willing helpers work together to complete the rope. It is said that a total of 800 people are involved in the creation of the giant shimenawa. The massive shimenawa is completed not only by the craftsmen but also through the efforts of the townspeople.

Shimenawa Making: From Iinan Town to the Whole Country

Once the craft center was established and the production process was opened to the public, the technique gained widespread recognition. Today, the center reportedly receives orders for shimenawa from shrines and facilities across Japan, as well as from overseas.

As a result, shimenawa production continues year-round at the center, even during periods when large shimenawa are not being made. The ropes come in a variety of sizes and serve various purposes; from those displayed at shrines to those used for decorating public facilities, the ropes woven in Izumo are shipped to locations all over the country.

Sharing our local pride with all of Japan and future generations

“Making shimenawa is a source of pride for this region,” says Mr. Wada. The shimenawa-making techniques developed here in Iinan Town have now spread throughout the country, becoming an integral part of places of worship across Japan.

At the same time, Iinan Town is facing an aging population. How to pass on the art of shimenawa-making to the next generation is a major challenge. Nevertheless, even today, straw is being bundled and ropes are being twisted in this town. This traditional craft, along with the pride of the community, is being passed down to all corners of Japan, overseas, and into the future.

The post The Tradition of Shimenawa Making Passed Down in Iinan Town, the Birthplace of Japan’s Largest Shimenawa—Izumo Taisha Kan’nōkōsha Tonbara Branch / Iinan Town, Shimane Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

The creators of large-scale Nebuta floats, known as “Nebuta masters,” are the artisans who shape the face of the Aomori Nebuta Festival. Among them, Hiroo Takenami is one of only seven people ever to have been awarded the title of “Nebuta Master”—a distinction granted to creators who have contributed to the Aomori Nebuta Festival through their exceptional skills over many years. While preserving the centuries-old tradition of Nebuta as a folk festival, he is also an artist who pushes the boundaries of Nebuta as a sculptural art form.

One of Japan’s premier fire festivals, a source of pride for Aomori City 

The Aomori Nebuta Festival is a summer festival held annually in Aomori City, Aomori Prefecture, from August 2 to 7. More than 20 large Nebuta floats parade through the city streets, accompanied by dancers known as “Haneto” who perform wild dances to the chant of “Rassera,” as well as musicians playing flutes and drums. During the festival, the city attracts more than 1 million visitors.

From a Local Folk Event to a Major Festival

Although it is now one of Japan’s most iconic festivals, its origins lie in a folk tradition. Throughout Aomori Prefecture—excluding the Nanbu region—various local festivals known as “Nebuta” or “Neputa” are held. While the names and forms vary by region, they share the same roots and are believed to have evolved from Tanabata customs. While there are various theories, one suggests the influence of “nemuri-nagashi” (a ritual to dispel drowsiness that hinders farm work), and that the name evolved from “neputē” (meaning “sleepy” in the Tsugaru dialect) to “Nebuta” or “Neputa.”

As for records of the Nebuta in Aomori City, an ancient document remains indicating that Nebuta floats were paraded in Ohama (present-day Aburakawa, Aomori City) in 1730 (the 15th year of the Kyōhō era). While this is considered the first recorded appearance of “Aomori Nebuta,” it is believed that the festival had actually been held as an annual event long before that, even if it was not formally documented.

“The Nebuta festivals throughout the prefecture, including Aomori City, have been passed down for hundreds of years solely through the dedication of the townspeople. I believe it is a truly rare and precious festival,” says Mr. Takenami. Over the long course of time, even as social conditions and the shape of the town have changed, Nebuta has been passed down and has continued to evolve. Behind this must surely lie the passionate dedication of the people of this land.

In modern times, while each neighborhood created and paraded its own Nebuta floats, the trend toward commercialization led to increasingly larger floats. Although the traditions of local Nebuta remained, the focus of the festival shifted to the “Aomori Nebuta Festival,” which is organized by corporations. Regarding the float builders, while the floats were originally crafted by skilled, Nebuta-loving locals, the larger floats came to be created by specialized builders—known as Nebuta-shi—who had honed their technical skills.

“Nebuta masters,” the creators of large-scale Nebuta floats

In the past, Nebuta and Neputa floats were made of washi paper and bamboo, with candles lit inside. They came in both doll-shaped and fan-shaped varieties, with the Aomori Nebuta primarily featuring the doll-shaped design. After World War II, as national highways were widened, the floats gradually evolved into their current wide, horizontal shape, and the materials used also advanced. Today, washi paper is attached to a wire frame, and LED lights are used for illumination.

As of 2025, there are about a dozen “Nebuta masters” who create these floats, and Mr. Takenami is one of them. Mr. Takenami says he begins thinking about the theme for the following year even before the current festival ends. The themes are primarily drawn from Kabuki, history, and legends. He coordinates the theme with the sponsoring company, researches literature and historical materials, develops a concept, and then draws the original artwork. Mr. Takenami describes this process of creating the original artwork as “the most important part of a Nebuta master’s work.” “Even with the same subject or scene, the expression varies depending on the creator’s individuality. It requires sensitivity in turning a captured scene into a painting, as well as a sense of color,” he explains. He completes the pencil sketch of the original artwork by around New Year’s and prepares the details, such as the face and limbs, in advance. In May, he moves to the “Rasseland,” a workshop dedicated to Nebuta. They build a framework using square timber pillars as a base, install lighting, apply Japanese paper, and proceed to the “kakigiri” stage, where they draw the faces and outlines in ink. The kakigiri stage is also a crucial part of the process; Takemura says that drawing the facial expressions, which determine the character’s look, “makes me nervous no matter how many times I do it.” Once this is finished, they apply patterns with wax and then use a mixture of paints and dyes to color the float using brushes, paintbrushes, and spray cans to complete it.

The Nebuta master does not perform all the work alone; carpentry, paper application, and lighting installation are handled by specialists and staff, with the Nebuta master serving as the on-site supervisor during these phases. The moment when the Nebuta, completed through the efforts of so many people, is loaded onto a cart—known as “taage”—is said to be exceptionally moving. From conception to completion, it takes a full year to create a Nebuta. While Mr. Takenami is one such example, there are also masters who handle multiple floats, and being a Nebuta master demands that level of skill.

“I was born to make Nebuta floats.” A life captivated by Nebuta

Mr. Takenami is originally from the former town of Kizukuri (now Tsugaru City). That town also had its own small, community-based Nebuta Festival, and the neighborhood association where Mr. Takenami was born and raised would send a float every year. He was captivated by those Nebuta floats from a young age. “I think it started when I was three. Apparently, I was a child who talked about nothing but Nebuta, Nebuta. Eventually, my family took me to see the big Nebuta floats in Aomori. And that’s when I became completely obsessed.”

At the age of 19, he began visiting the nebutah workshop of Chiba Sakuryu (the fifth-generation master) and started helping out. “Among the many creators, Mr. Chiba’s nebutah floats looked very stylish and fresh. So, I wanted to try assisting him. When I knocked on his door, he accepted me.” From then on, he devoted himself entirely to the craft, making his debut with a large-scale Nebuta float in 1989 at the age of 30. Since then, in addition to creating floats for the Aomori Nebuta Festival every year, he has played a central role in the industry, including working on Nebuta floats for tours to Budapest in 1996, the Tokyo Dome in 1998, and Los Angeles in 2007. In 2010, he established the “Nebuta Research Institute” to facilitate year-round activities. In 2023, at the age of 63, he was certified as the seventh-generation Nebuta Master.

“The things that were as precious to me as toys when I was a child remain just as precious to me even as an adult,” says Takenami with a smile. “Perhaps my values haven’t changed since I was three or four years old.” He adds, “Now, I believe I was born to make Nebuta floats.”

The three-dimensionality and colors breathe life into the Nebuta floats

Mr. Takenami says he doesn’t particularly like to depict battle scenes. “Most of my work features guardian deities that ward off evil and drive away demons, such as Kongo Rikishi and Nio statues,” he explains. Even when he depicts figures holding swords, he says they are often held not so much as weapons but to ward off evil. This is Mr. Takenami’s unique style and artistic expression. “It’s really hard to decide on a theme every year,” as Takenami says. Since approximately 23 Nebuta floats are produced for the Aomori Nebuta Festival each year—amounting to about 230 over a decade—it’s inevitable that themes will overlap with past floats, and scenes may repeat. “In the world of creation, where everyone has idols and ideals, the challenge lies in how to express my own unique voice,” he confides.

Amidst this, Takenami’s “sense of self” lies in creating a sense of depth and three-dimensionality in the Nebuta floats. “How do I arrange and fit the characters’ body parts within a cube measuring 9 meters wide, 7 meters deep, and 5 meters high? The way they’re placed completely changes how they look, so I’m particularly meticulous about that aspect,” he explains. Furthermore, he notes that the arrangement of colors is crucial. Takenami explains that he uses a single primary color—such as his favorite red—as a core, then arranges other hues around it as if scattering them out from that point. He uses color to convey a sense of power so that, during the actual festival, the Nebuta floats appear vigorous as they sway slowly toward the spectators lining the streets from afar. “I also make a conscious effort to draw ink lines that have a strong presence,” he adds. While painting the colors is often a collaborative effort with my staff, I draw every single ink line myself. That’s because the ink lines are what give the design its distinctive character.” It can be said that the heroic grandeur of the approaching Nebuta floats is brought to life through the ingenuity and hard work of the Nebuta masters.

It’s better not to lose to yourself than to lose to others

At the 2025 Aomori Nebuta Festival, Mr. Takenami won the Nebuta Grand Prize and the Best Creator Award for the Aomori Ryoyukai’s float, “Kaiō.” “Kaiō” will be on display at the Aomori City Culture, Tourism, and Exchange Facility, Nebuta no Ie Wa-Rasse, until August 9, 2026, when it will be replaced by the next award-winning float.

The year 2025 marked the 400th anniversary of the opening of Aomori Port. With this theme in mind, the float depicted the majestic figure of Poseidon, the guardian deity of the sea, rendered in a traditional Japanese style, as a way to reflect on Aomori City’s history—a history shaped by the sea—and to express hopes for its continued prosperity. Surrounding Poseidon, dressed as a Japanese warrior, are shachi (mythical creatures with the body of a fish and the head of a tiger) and fish-bodied dragons. At the rear, dolphins—which inhabit the waters off Aomori—were placed to emphasize that the setting is the Sea of Aomori. “The contrast between the color of the waves and the yellow tones of the shachi creates a strong visual impact,” said Takenami. “Additionally, for the ink-wash sections, I deliberately drew the lines representing Poseidon’s arms and ribs to be strong and rough,” said Takenami. Upon receiving the award, he commented, “I was able to express something truly powerful and impactful—this is what Nebuta is all about.” The award was a testament to Takenami’s unique artistic vision.

The Grand Prize-winning Nebuta float is placed in the most prominent spot in Wa-Rasse’s “Nebuta Hall.” Standing in front of “Kaiō,” Mr. Takenami said, “Every time I come here, it motivates me to return to this spot again next year. I create a Nebuta float every year, and I really struggle with it every time, but that struggle is also part of the fun. It’s not like a sport where you get clear, numerical results, so rather than aiming to beat others, I set a goal for myself: not to lose to myself. I refuse to compromise on anything when it comes to what my intuition tells me I want to create. I don’t tell anyone this, but I hold that principle—not losing to myself—in high regard.”

Thinking of the future, we’re giving Nebuta a new look

When Mr. Takenami first entered this field, being a Nebuta artist was not yet established as a profession. Even if he spent a year on a single piece, he couldn’t make a living from it. However, Nebuta has continued to grow and has become something we can be proud of on the world stage. People even come to Mr. Takenami, willing to relocate just to make Nebuta. “The people who come to us are the ones who will support the future of Nebuta. To ensure Nebuta’s legacy lives on, we must establish it as a profession so that these people can make a living as Nebuta artisans. By recognizing Nebuta’s value not just as a festival prop but as a work of art, can’t we expand its possibilities?” It was this conviction that led him to establish the research institute.

However, he says the institute faced strong opposition when it was first established. Many argued, “Nebuta is not art; it is, after all, just a festival.”

Nevertheless, Mr. Takenami continued to explore new possibilities for Nebuta based on the concept of “sculptures of paper and light.” He launched “NEBUTA STYLE,” a brand featuring interior goods and apparel made using Nebuta techniques, and created decorative objects for restaurants and hotels. By embracing this role as a sculptor, he built a sustainable livelihood. Moreover, these new products help spread the appeal of Nebuta. Mr. Takenami feels that as his dreams gradually come true, the attitudes of those around him have also begun to change.

Mr. Takenami’s goal for the future is to promote Nebuta more widely around the world as a form of Japanese culture and as a work of art crafted from washi paper. “When I’ve taken Nebuta to places like the United States and Budapest, the crowd gasped in awe the moment the lanterns were lit. Everyone was truly amazed and delighted. I’d like to take it to other countries, such as Europe, where people aren’t yet familiar with Nebuta.” As he spoke, Mr. Takenami’s eyes shone brightly, as if the eyes of the young boy who had always admired Nebuta were still there.

The post Carrying on tradition while embracing creativity. Nebuta artist Hiroo Takenami / Aomori City, Aomori Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

In the gallery of “Mifune Kiln,” nestled in the mountains, two types of pottery crafted by twin brothers are on display: “yakishime,” in which clay and fire create a powerful texture, and “seiji,” which captures light within its layered glazes. The younger brother, Hitomu Tsugane, chose the path of seiji, considered the most difficult form of pottery.

My Father’s Kiln: The Era of Everyday Tableware

The Mifune Kiln is located in a forest nestled in the mountains, a short distance from the city center. About 40 years ago, my father left his corporate job to study the techniques of Takada-yaki—a ceramic tradition with a history of some 400 years in Yatsushiro City, Kumamoto Prefecture—and eventually struck out on his own. That was the beginning of his journey, when he built his kiln here. While Takada-yaki is known for its celadon, my father did not pursue celadon. Instead, he focused on creating everyday tableware, such as ash-glazed pottery—using glazes made from plant ash derived from straw and wood—and powder-coated ware. It was an era when pottery studios were springing up everywhere amid a pottery boom, but my father’s pieces gained popularity, and on weekends, so many people visited the kiln that the parking lot could not accommodate them all.

From Pottery Studio to Artist: The Gamble of Celadon 

Raised in such an environment, Mr. Tsugane studied the fundamentals of ceramics at the nation’s only vocational school specializing in ceramics, located in Arita, Saga Prefecture, and returned to his hometown after graduation. Following graduation, he worked as his father’s right-hand man, producing dozens of tea bowls for daily use and receiving a lump-sum payment once the exhibition was over. It was a “craftsman”-like way of working, producing the required quantities in a predetermined form. However, the times had changed, and it had become difficult to sustain the kiln by simply making everyday tableware in a kiln nestled in the mountains and waiting for customers, as had been done before.

“We can’t go on like this.”

Realizing this, Tsugane began to consider a path focused not on quantity, but on engaging with the works themselves.

“If so, what should I do as an artist?”
When he asked himself this question, he arrived at celadon. It is considered one of the most difficult genres in the world of ceramics, and few potters attempt it. That is precisely why he wanted to master it. The origins of celadon date back to ancient China. When a transparent glaze is applied to the clay body and fired in an oxygen-deprived kiln, the iron in the glaze reacts to produce a blue hue. However, since glazes made from natural raw materials have unstable iron content, the final color varies depending on the clay body and the conditions of the fire. Producing the exact shade of blue one envisions is no easy task. Due to this difficulty, celadon was once said to be a craft that “ruins your livelihood if you try it.” With virtually no formal training available, Tsugane collected books and, supplementing his understanding of difficult concepts with other texts, pursued his research into celadon entirely on his own.
“I started working with celadon because I felt I couldn’t go on as I was, but once I began, I found myself becoming more and more engrossed in it.”

Thick Glaze, Thin Clay—The Art of Crafting Celadon 

At first, things went surprisingly smoothly. I even won an award at a regional exhibition. But when I entered the world of the Japan Craft Association, I was told, “That’s not celadon. Have you ever seen the real thing?”

In the world of the Japan Crafts Association, the evaluation criteria are completely different from those of regional exhibitions. It is a world where “whether it is authentic craftsmanship” is rigorously scrutinized, taking into account not only the quality of the work but also the materials, techniques, and historical context. Tsugane’s understanding was completely overturned. Celadon is not simply about appearing blue or green. Its defining characteristic is the application of an astonishingly thick layer of glaze. While the glaze on ordinary pottery is less than 1 millimeter thick, on celadon it is 2 millimeters or more, and in some cases exceeds 4 millimeters. Within this thick layer of glaze, light reacts with the iron content to produce that deep hue.

Because the glaze is so thick, the underlying vessel must be made extremely thin to achieve the desired elegance. However, the thinner the vessel, the more likely the clay is to collapse or warp during firing.
This is where the process of creating the clay itself becomes essential. Mr. Tsugane tested clays from all over Japan, gradually adjusting factors such as strength to withstand firing, ease of shaping, and stability in the finished piece to develop his own unique blend. Even when he thinks, “This is good,” he feels compelled to make further adjustments. It is a constant cycle.

The lines drawn by time. An expression called “crazing” 

Applying the glaze is just as labor-intensive. Three coats on the inside—drying and building up each layer—and three on the outside. Before firing, the piece looks so far from the finished product that one might doubt it will ever truly become celadon. Moreover, even the slightest change in conditions inside the kiln can easily throw off the color. “Depending on the oxygen levels alone, celadon can even take on a yellowish hue. It’s not about creating the color; rather, it’s about drawing out the coloration of the iron within the thickly applied glaze. That, I believe, is what celadon pottery is all about,” says Mr. Tsugane.

Among Tsugane’s works, the most distinctive are those known as “crazed celadon.” Crazing refers to the fine cracks that form on the surface of a piece as it cools after being removed from the kiln. In celadon, slight differences in the shrinkage rates of the clay and the glaze cause fine cracks to appear in the glaze. Some pieces look as if a thin layer of ice has formed, while others feature red lines created by rubbing vermilion into the cracks. Generally, these cracks are considered to occur by chance. However, Tsugane meticulously adjusts the thickness of the glaze, as well as the firing and cooling conditions, to deliberately shape the pattern of the cracks themselves into an integral part of the work’s expression.
Crackling does not necessarily occur the moment the piece is removed from the kiln. Sometimes, several days or even a month later, it may appear with a sudden “crack.” The red lines that emerge and the transparent lines that appear later—their interplay transforms the vessel’s appearance the more it is used.

What Defines the Quality of Celadon

Since being selected for the first time for the “Japan Traditional Crafts Exhibition”—Japan’s premier open-call exhibition organized by the Japan Crafts Association—Tsugane has gained increasing recognition, with his works even being purchased by the Imperial Household Agency. Furthermore, through achievements such as winning the “Japan Crafts Association Award,” he has established a solid reputation in the field of celadon. At the same time, however, he notes that attitudes toward awards have changed significantly over the past decade or so. In the past, winning an award would attract department store events, and customers would visit specifically to see the winning pieces. Now, however, more people choose tableware based on their personal taste, and Tsugane notes, “We are no longer in an era where awards decide everything.”
Nevertheless, what remains unwavering for him is the “dignity” expected of celadon. His goal is to achieve a water-like, clear blue known as “Uka-tensei” (the blue of the sky after rain). To approach this ideal, he studies the lineage of Chinese celadon and travels to China. He believes that understanding the roots provides a solid foundation for new forms of expression.

He uses a gas kiln. His philosophy is not to be particular about the type of kiln, but to choose the flame that best suits the work. For celadon, a strong, stable flame with few impurities is essential.

Furthermore, in recent years, the raw materials themselves are becoming scarce. Fewer people are digging for clay, and he has even been told that the clay he has used for many years “can no longer be obtained.”
Tsugane secures whatever clay he can while searching for new sources, and he meets with suppliers on-site to build relationships. “If there are no longer people digging for clay, we won’t be able to make our work either.”

It is perfected through use

My goal is to become a potter who makes people think, “Tsugane celadon is beautiful. I’d love to own one.” I don’t want to make pieces that are simply displayed in a box; I want to create tableware that is actually used at the dinner table—the kind that makes someone ask, “Whose is that?”

Celadon is understated, and the apprenticeship is long. The yield rate is by no means high. Yet, drawn to the dignity that lies beyond the difficulty, I never gave up. “Even master craftsmen over 70 have mountains of failed pieces in their scrap piles.” When I heard that, I felt the tension melt away.

“I’ll do this for the rest of my life.” I quietly savor those words.

A piece of pottery isn’t finished once it comes out of the kiln; it is gradually completed through use. Tsugane’s work, too, is being built up slowly in that same way.

The post “Mifune Kiln”: Where Light Shines Through in a Mountain Kiln / Mifune Town, Kamimashiki District, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

“Yoheho~, yoheho~.”The “Yamaga Lantern Festival” features about a thousand women dancing gracefully to the folk song “Yoheho-bushi.” The lights flickering above the dancers’ heads are Yamaga lanterns, traditional crafts. Hirotaka Nakajima is the fourth-generation master of Yamaga lantern making. While grounded in tradition, he is not afraid to adapt to the times.

The ethereal lights flickering above the dancers’ heads are traditional crafts

————No bones, no flesh, Yoheho, Yoheho————

The “Yamaga Lantern Festival” features approximately 1,000 women dancing gracefully with supple movements to the folk song “Yoheho-bushi.” Held every August, it is a major event in Yamaga City that typically attracts over 100,000 visitors annually. Legend has it that the festival originated when the villagers of Yamaga guided Emperor Keiko, the 12th emperor, who had lost his way in thick fog, by holding torches aloft.​​The source of the fantastical light flickering above the dancers’ heads in the darkness of night is the “Kin-tōrō,” a type of Yamaga lantern that is a traditional craft.Although they appear to be made of metal from a distance, they are actually made of paper. Without using any wood or metal fittings, they are assembled into three-dimensional forms using only Japanese paper and a small amount of glue, weighing a mere 180 grams. Achieving the substantial and luxurious appearance that defies belief that they are made of paper requires exquisite craftsmanship, and their creation is entrusted to artisans known as “lantern masters.”

Hirotaka Nakashima is the fourth-generation member of a family of lantern makers with a history spanning over 100 years. While his great-grandfather and grandfather ran both a lantern-making business and a clock shop, his father’s generation focused solely on lantern-making, and today he operates “Yamaga Lantern Shop Nakashima,” a specialty store along the Buzen Kaido.Born as the second son in a family of lantern makers, Nakajima worked as a company employee until the age of 33. However, realizing that the craft would die out if none of his brothers took over the family business, he made a determined resolution. He became his father’s apprentice, entered the path of lantern making, and has continued on that path to this day.

He switched careers from a different industry and mastered the craft under his father, his master

Making the career switch from a different industry was not easy. Although he had watched his father create lanterns up close since childhood and had been training even before the switch, the skills of a traditional craftsman are not easily acquired. The production of Yamaga lanterns involves a continuous series of meticulous tasks that cause pain in the fingertips, eye strain, and stiff shoulders. It requires extraordinary concentration and perseverance. Moreover, he received relentless criticism from his father, his master.“But looking back now, I’m grateful to my father for treating me as a disciple rather than going easy on me just because I was his son,” says Nakajima. To be recognized as a lantern maker, one must undergo about 10 years of apprenticeship and have one’s skills acknowledged by other lantern makers. Nakajima received his certification in 2017, after he had already entered his 40s.

Yamaga lanterns feature traditional styles, including the aforementioned gold lanterns, as well as “Miyazukuri” (shrine-style), which takes inspiration from shrine and temple architecture such as main halls, gate towers, and five-story pagodas, and “Zashikizukuri” (parlor-style), which mimics traditional Japanese houses.In addition, there are many works created by the lantern makers themselves, resulting in a diverse and extensive range of styles. These are primarily used for the “dedicatory lanterns” described below, and some are designed to be displayed without a light. Furthermore, they are often displayed in local homes as substitutes for lanterns during the first Obon memorial service, and custom orders featuring family crests are also available.

There are three criteria for Yamaga lanterns: “use only hand-made Japanese paper and starch paste,” “the main components of the lantern must be hollow,” and “do not create overlapping edges on curved sections.”Consequently, the designs are free and diverse, with examples ranging from Benkei from the *Kanjincho* to trains and battleships. Among these, the gold lanterns attract particular attention, not only because they are the symbol of the Yamaga Lantern Festival but also because they represent a rite of passage for lantern artisans. They embody the full range of skills required of a lantern artisan, and successfully completing a gold lantern is considered the first step toward certification.

A traditional craft deeply rooted in the life of the local community

The creation of a gold lantern involves endless work precise to the millimeter.Thick washi paper, onto which the design has been traced, is cut and assembled. While this may sound simple, because the lantern is hollow and lacks a framework, its shape and structural integrity must be maintained solely through the layering of washi paper. This is why the Yamaga lantern is nicknamed the “boneless lantern.” This is also the reason behind the line in the folk song mentioned at the beginning: “No bones, no flesh.”

Since there are neither bones nor flesh, even the slightest misalignment in the layered washi paper causes the structure to collapse. And to ensure a perfect fit, the washi paper must be cut with absolute precision, without the slightest deviation. A gold lantern consists of approximately 200 parts and takes about three days from preparation to completion. Hearing Mr. Nakajima say, “To create a Yamaga lantern, you need the perseverance to see it through without losing focus,” I find myself nodding in agreement once again.

The lanterns made in this way are placed atop the dancers’ heads and are also used as dedication lanterns. Dedication lanterns are those commissioned by neighborhood associations and other groups from lantern artisans specifically for the festival; they are so named because they are dedicated to the local Ōmiya Shrine after being displayed during the festival period. There are no regulations regarding their shape, and the motifs are decided through consultation between the group and the lantern artisan.Every year, 27 to 28 lanterns are made, and after the dedication, they are stored and displayed in the “Lantern Hall” within the shrine. They are replaced with new lanterns one year later in August. “It happens every year, but it truly makes me happy when the clients are pleased. It’s the moment when I feel rewarded for all my hard work,” says Mr. Nakajima.

To Pass Tradition On to the Future, We Must Ask Questions

Legend has it that Yamaga lanterns originated about 2,000 years ago when the 12th Emperor Keikō was on a royal tour of the Tsukushi region and his path was blocked by thick fog; the people of Yamaga guided him using torches.Afterward, the people continued to offer torches to Omiya Shrine, which enshrines Emperor Keikō, and during the Muromachi period, these torches evolved into Yamaga lanterns. Then, in the Edo period, influential figures in the town began competing to create the most lavish lanterns for their offerings, leading to the full blossoming of the Yamaga lantern culture.

Currently, there are seven active lantern makers in total. Five of them are women and two are men, with most in their 50s and 60s.There are three apprentices aiming for certification. While the number of lantern makers has remained stagnant over the past few decades, all the apprentices are in their 20s. Nakajima believes, “The future of Yamaga lanterns is by no means a situation to be optimistic about, but it’s not one to be pessimistic about either.” However, he also notes that “questions” are necessary to pass the tradition on to the future.

“I want to expand the occasions where people purchase them not just for festivals, but as traditional crafts for everyday use. If their usage is limited, the tradition will only dwindle. To achieve that, I need to ask: What kinds of products will sell? How can we make Yamaga lanterns feel more accessible to consumers…?”

By constantly asking these questions, Nakajima strives to bring new creations to the world. “By making gradual updates in line with changing times and needs, there are surely traditions we can preserve.” Continuing to craft lanterns while holding these questions in mind—it is this accumulation of effort that will carry the light of Yamaga into the next generation.

The post Asking questions and keeping the light alive. “Yamaga Lantern Shop Nakashima” – Hirotaka Nakashima / Yamaga City, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

You could call him a thoroughbred. Born into the “Fumoto Kiln”—which boasts six climbing kilns, among the largest in the Kodai-yaki tradition with its nearly 400-year history—Naoyuki Inoue is the son of Yasuaki Inoue, considered a master of Kodai-yaki. While this privileged environment was a source of pride, it also meant he was constantly subject to comparison and judgment.

Is what I want to do really pottery?

The sound of firewood crackling fills the air. As the flames spread upward, seemingly racing up the slope of the climbing kiln and breathing life into the pottery, I see the history of Kodai-yaki—passed down unbroken for nearly 400 years—overlapping with this scene.

Kodai-yaki is one of Kyushu’s representative ceramics. Its origins are said to date back to 1632, when Hosokawa Tadatoshi, accompanied by potters, established a kiln at the foot of Mount Shodai in northwestern Kumamoto Prefecture.Characterized by a rustic, robust texture created using Shodai clay—rich in iron and small pebbles—and bold designs achieved by applying glazes made from local natural materials, such as straw ash and wood ash, its appeal lies in a simple yet profoundly deep presence.It was designated as a National Traditional Craft in 2003, and today, 11 kilns remain, primarily in Arao City and Minamikan Town, Tamana District.

Among them, the “Kodai-yaki Fumoto Kiln” in Fumoto, Arao City, is a renowned kiln that has produced many apprentices and boasts six climbing kilns—the largest number among existing Kodai-yaki kilns. The founder, Yasuaki Inoue, won the top prize at the Japan Folk Crafts Museum Exhibition and received awards at numerous other exhibitions; he is known as an indispensable figure in the development of Kumamoto’s traditional crafts.

Born in 1975 as Yasuaki’s eldest son, Naoyuki Inoue has incorporated his own identity into the craft’s approximately 400-year history and tradition. He is a popular artist renowned for his unique “slipware” (pottery decorated with a slip, a type of decorative clay) inspired by old British ceramics.As a child, he played with chipped pottery pieces as if they were a dollhouse set, and naturally assumed he would become a potter one day. However, during high school, he suddenly paused to reflect. Was pottery really what he wanted to do? Though he enrolled in a local design college while still uncertain, the answer remained elusive. Looking back on that time, Naoyuki lowers his eyebrows and laughs, saying, “To be honest, I was just drifting along.”

The Fusion of Traditional Kodai-yaki and Slipware

Naoyuki set out on a journey. He visited acquaintances of his brother Taishu in Tokyo, Tochigi, and Okinawa, and while he was shown pottery and workshops in each place, nothing really clicked. But for some reason, Koishiwara was different. Upon seeing the “Ota Tetsuzo Kiln,” a representative of Koishiwara-yaki, he naturally felt, “I want to study here.”After that, he spent four years apprenticing under the kiln’s founder, Tetsuzo Ota, before returning to his family’s Futomogama kiln. Feeling anxious as he watched his senior apprentices far ahead of him, he continued his training. But when he finally sat down at the potter’s wheel, Naoyuki felt at a loss. Now that he was actually in a position to create, he couldn’t see what he wanted to make.

The clue came from “pon-gaki,” one of the techniques he had learned under Mr. Ota. This decorative technique involves pouring glaze from a special container onto the surface of the vessel to create lines and patterns.Naoyuki sensed a kinship between this “pon-gaki” and “slipware”—pottery decorated with slip, a tradition originating in England—and sought “what he wanted to create” by studying old slipware and related literature. He eventually arrived at a unique style that fuses Kodai-yaki with slipware. He had found his identity within the approximately 400-year history and tradition of the craft.

Creations Born from Local Materials and Universal Designs

Naoyuki’s works utilize Kodai clay that he excavates himself. Just like traditional Kodai-yaki, he uses local natural materials: wood and straw for the ash used in glazes, and pine wood for firing fuel. Before the shaped clay has completely dried, he pours over it a mixture of clay dissolved in water, and then drips another color of clay dissolved in water from a syringe-like tool onto the surface to create patterns.

His designs are based on universal patterns selected from old British texts, which he reinterprets and reconstructs in his own unique way. This stems from his belief that “universal things have been passed down to the present precisely because people never grew tired of them.” The variations are diverse, ranging from wavy lines and crosses to shapes resembling ribbons. His free-flowing, dynamic lines reflect Naoyuki’s easygoing and carefree personality.

While Naoyuki’s style is now widely supported by consumers, he faced strong criticism when he first began, with critics claiming, “This is not traditional Kodai-yaki.” However, the words of a certain benefactor—“Even if nine out of ten people are against you, there is one who is on your side. I am on your side”—became a source of strength for Naoyuki and have sustained him to this day.

A Craftsmanship Rooted in the Earth and Fire

Naoyuki uses a six-chamber climbing kiln to fire his works. It was completed by Taishu approximately 50 years ago, in 1977. A climbing kiln, which requires continuous feeding of firewood and temperature management over several days, is much harder to control than a gas kiln. It is said that “it might take a lifetime to fully understand it” and that “the condition of the kiln determines the quality of the work.”Because conditions inside the kiln—such as temperature and oxygen levels—cannot be kept uniform, defects like cracks and warping are common; at the “Kodaiyaki Fumoto Kiln,” the yield rate remains around 60%. Even so, many ceramic artists are captivated by the beauty—beyond human understanding—woven from the ash and flames produced by the firewood. Naoyuki, however, states firmly, “I don’t want to use the climbing kiln as either the reason for the quality of my work or as an excuse.”This is because he believes that the method of firing is not what matters; rather, the quality of the finished piece itself should be the focus of evaluation.

The interior of the kiln deteriorates with repeated use. The “Kodai-yaki Fumoto Kiln” has long since exceeded its estimated lifespan of 100 firings and continues to be used while undergoing repeated partial repairs. Naoyuki is unconcerned, stating, “I’m not fixated on climbing kilns, and even if it becomes unusable, I have a plan in place, so it’s not a problem.” Yet he also acknowledges its appeal, noting, “There is a unique charm found only in climbing kilns.”

After a long period of uncertainty and inner conflict, Naoyuki has found his place within history and tradition. Now, standing beside him is his son, Ryoga, who returned to the family home in 2024 as the third-generation head of “Kodaiyaki Fumoto Kiln” after completing his apprenticeship at “Iwai Kiln” in Tottori Prefecture. Not only the tradition of Kodaiyaki itself, but also the craftsmanship rooted in a continuous dialogue with clay and fire is now being passed on to the next generation.

The post Finding identity in a history and tradition spanning some 400 years. Naoyuki Inoue of “Kodai-yaki Fumoto Kiln” / Arao City, Kumamoto Prefecture first appeared on NIHONMONO.

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.