Fibre art & textiles exhibitions in Kyoto May 2023

Posted on June 12, 2024 by Toothpicker

A table full of textiles, fashion and craft exhibition leaflets at the Kawashima textile school

While Tokyo’s art museums and galleries regularly hosts major contemporary art and design exhibitions, Kyoto is THE place to visit if you are interested in traditional Japanese crafts and textiles. When I was staying at the Kawashima textile school, my weaving classmates and I would take the opportunity to see the various textiles exhibitions in the city on the weekends.

One of the most mesmorising exhibitions that we saw was ‘Fiber art by Fifteen’, showcasing extraordinary fibre art works by 15 Japanese fibre artists. Although fibre art became an international movement in the 1960s-70s, its ambiguity also became a hindrance and most people don’t know how to define or classify it. Is it textile art? Craft? Sculptural textile? Conceptual art? For decades, the term ‘fibre art’ seems a bit dated, and fibre artists were not considered as real ‘artists’ except for Sheila Hicks. However, in recent years, the perception on fibre art has changed and it is being taken more seriously. At last. This fibre art exhibition introduced us to 15 contemporary Japanese fibre artists, who use textiles and washi to creat unique and beautiful sculptural or 2-dimensional pieces.

Top right: Chieko Maeda; Bottom: Shigeo Kubota

Top: Tetsuo Kusama; 2nd row: Tatsumi Ushio; 3rd row: Ai Ito; bottom row: Hiroko Ote

I was particularly impressed by Kazuyo Onoyama (born in 1951 in Tokushima)’s fibre feather as each one looks so delicate and light… her works look stunning both from afar and up close!

Kazuyo Onoyama

On the top of Daimaru department store, there was a rare chance to see ‘The 57th Japan Traditional arts exhibition 2023’ exhibiting splendid traditional kimono that showcase different techniques like kasuri, katazomi and yuzen etc.

The Daimaru award was awarded to the artisan who made this Kurume Kasuri kimono, which is traditional technique that dates back over 200 years, and recognised as an important intangible cultural property of Japan.

We also visited Musee de Some Seiryu, the world’s first museum dedicated to contemporary dye art works. The exhibition we saw featured abstract dyed textile pieces by textile artist, Motono Toichi (1916- 1996). Unfortunately no photography is allowed inside, but it was interesting to see the modern textile art pieces by a Japanese textile artists who is not less well-known in the West.

Motono Toichi exhibition

Another interesting museum nearby is Hosotsuji Ihee Museum, a museum dedicated to tenugui/ a traditional hand (or multipurpose) cloth. The museum is named after the fabric merchant Hosotsuji Ihee, who established one of Japan’s oldest continuously running businesses, Eirakuya, in 1615. Initially dealing in silk fabrics, Eirakuya eventually shifted to selling cotton as it became more and more popular in Japan and still has 9 shops in Kyoto.

In 2018, the Eirakuya company opened the Museum to showcase the diverse art and craftsmanship of tenugui as well as to archive the history of the shop. It exhibits Eirakuya’s past designs and offers a glimpse into its history, as well as into the future of the art. The exhibition we saw was called ‘Modern girls’ and it featured some wonderful art deco style illustrations on the tenugui. There is also a shop on the ground floor that sells many interesting tenugui with contemporary illustrations.

Hosotsuji Ihee Museum

Kyoto’s textile heritage: Kawashima textile museum & kasuri in Nishijin

Posted on June 10, 2024 by Toothpicker

Kawashima textile museum

One reason I love Kyoto is that it is full of hidden gems, and there are always pleasant surprises whenever I visit. One of the least touristy museums in Kyoto has to be the Kawashima textile museum partly due to its distance from the centre, but also down to the fact that prebooking necessary for the visit. After our 2 week course, we were granted a guided tour of the Kawashima textile factory followed by a museum tour near the school. It was a real privilege to visit the factory to see how the large-scale tapestries were designed and produced. I was particularly impressed by a room full of vintage and Jacquard looms, even though they are now dormant.

The Kawashima Selkon Textiles company was founded in 1843, and The Kawashima Textile Museum opened in 1889 is the oldest company museum in Japan. One of the missions that Kawashima Selkon Textile company aimed to achieve was to continue to contribute to development of textile culture by preserving and educating the public on the history of textile crafts and techniques. In order to achieve this goal, the company constructed the Ichihara plant in 1964 handled by 4th Jimbei Kawashima, which includes the factory, office, museum and school with dormitory.

Opened under the name Museum of Art Specimens, the museum exhibits masterfully-woven textiles produced by the company over the last 170 years, as well as historic textile artifacts and exhibits. There are over 150,000 items in the museum, ranging from dyed and woven textiles, 7th Century textile artworks (jodai-gire), historically notable works (meibutsu-gire), Chinese fabrics, Coptic fabrics, traditional costumes, books and drawings. In recent years, the company has also collaborated with renowned international designers to produce new home furnishings and furniture. During our visit, there was an exhibition on the new collaboration, which were exhibited at the Milan design week.

The following day, we headed to Nishijin, Kyoto’s famed historic textile district to visit Kasai kasuri atelier specialising in kasuri (絣). Kasuri is a form of double ikat dyeing, which creates splashed patterns characterised by their blurred edges ( ‘kasuri’ means blurring) on the textiles. Originated in ancient India, the history of kasuri dates back to 5th century Kyoto in the Nishijin district where local weavers worked.

Currently, double ikat is practised in only three countries in the world: India, Indonesia and Japan. Unlike single ikat, the warp and weft are both resist-tied according to a specific design and, when woven, intermesh seamlessly to reveal the pattern. Hence, the process of preparing the warp and weft yarns for dyeing demands the same degree of mathematical precision as the process of weaving the textile on the loom. In 2019, I visited Patan in Gujarat, which is famous for Patola, a double ikat woven sari, usually made from silk. At the Patan Patola museum, aside from demonstrations and exhibits on the locally made textiles, there were also double ikat textiles from Indonesia and kasuri textiles on display. This shows that the curators at the museums view kasuri and Indonesian ikat textiles on par with their intricate Patola textiles.

The kasai kasuri atelier is located in the historic Nishijin textile district

Sadly, like many traditional crafts around the globe, the craftsmandship of kasuri is under threatened due to less demands for kimono and obi, aging artisans and fewer young people wanting to learn a craft that is time-consuming and requires meticulous care as well as precision. Now one of the ‘youngest’ (middle-aged) artisan working in Nishijin is Ikuko Kasai, who is determined to preserve and pass on the invaluable craftsmanship that has been passed on for centuries.

We felt very grateful to have spent the afternoon at the atelier learning about the process of kasuri. In Nishijin, each artisan specialises in only one task, hence they all have to collaborate together to create the kimono or obi piece. Usually a custom-made kimono would take around 6 months and 20 artisans to complete, which explains the high price tag. At her atelier, Kasai san is responsible for the marking and wrapping of the yarn to be resist-dyed at a differenet dye studio. After the initial dyeing process, the dyed yarn returns to her studio again for a second wrapping, and this process can be repeated multiple times depending on the colours on the design. After the dyeing process, the dyed threads are spunned around a drum-like machine called Taiko (see below). The next stage is called ‘hamekomi’ when the threads are counted and arranged according to the design. The last stage involves the threads are hung on a machine called ‘hashigo’ (meaning ladder – see below), and passing through metal rods at various height, so that the horizontal lines are shifted vertially to create the unique kasuri patterns. The finished yarn is then ready to be shipped to the weavers to be woven.

One thing really struck me during and after the visit, and it was Kasai san’s immense passion for her craft and her determination to pass on the craftsmanship. She was always smiling while explaing her work and techniques, but I am sure her road has not been easy so far. With dwindling orders for custom-made kimono and obi, the presevation of the heritage and craftsmanship is crucial for the Nishijin craftsmen/ artisans. Undoubtedly, they have a tough road ahead of them, but I think with the resurgence of traditional crafts like shibori, natural dyeing and weaving etc in recent years, there is hope for things to change.

Beginners weaving course at Kawashima Textile school 2023

Posted on June 5, 2024 by Toothpicker

It is early June 2024, exactly a year after I completed the 2-week beginners weaving course at Kawashima Textile school in Kyoto, and I decided to share my experience one year on. One reason why I stopped updating the blog was because it is a very time-consuming task, and due to the pandemic, my life (like everyone else’s) changed drastically. Once I lost the incentive/ momentum/ habit, it is rather difficult to pick it up again. However, lately I have been thinking that it would be a shame not to share my experriences, especially my craft journey in Japan over last spring/summer.

The 3-month trip to Japan was originally planned for spring/summer 2020, but sadly it got postponed due to the pandemic. The Kawashima Textile school is a well-known vocational school in Kyoto that specialises in weaving. Every spring and autumn, it accepts only 5 international students onto their weaving courses out of hundreds of applicants. I was thrilled when I was got accepted, so it was particularly disaappointing when the school decided to stop the all the courses due to the pandemic. I refused to get a refund and opted to wait three years, which seemed to impress the teachers/admin of the school! Before the course, I knew very little about weaving and have only done some Saori/ free style weaving, which is quite different from traditional weaving. Shockingly, despite being the oldest person out of the 5 students, I was also the one with the least experience, which was a hindrance for me.

Founded in 1973 by Kawashima Textile Manufacturers Ltd to commemorate the 130th anniversary of the company, the school is one of the oldest textile academies in Asia. The internationally-renowned Kawashima Selkon Textiles (the company changed its name in 2006) is a fabric manufacturer founded in Kyoto in 1843, and it is particularly known for its tsuzure-weaving techniques used for large-scale stage curtains. Secludedly located in the suburbs North of Kyoto, the factory, school and museum (appointment only) are largely tourist-free, with only one small supermarket and one konbini near the railway station.

Surrounded by by mountains and beautiful nature, the school and dormitory were designed by renowned Japanese architect Shozo Uchii, and was warded with the Building Contractors Society Prize in 1975. The weaving room up in the main school looks absoultely splendid with row after row of vintage looms and equipment. Most of the tools that we used are original/vintage items and rare to find these days. Hence it was a real privileged to be able to stay and study in this environment and get acquianted with some local textile students.

Over two weeks, we learned to dye woollen yarn using acid dye (not my usual preference, but I guess it is ok for this occasion), set up the large loom (which takes over a day), read the charts and weave some basic patterns. It all sounds pretty simple, but I found out that it is really not as simple as it sounds!

A lot of my friends were curious to know my reason for doing this course. I have never thought of learning to weave until I saw a few natural dyers who could weave too. It made me think that perhaps I could dye and weave by myself in the future (very idealistic). Also I enjoyed some saori weaving previously, so I thought I would make sense to learn the basics.

It turned out that I am completely hopeless at weaving and tying knots! I am a right-brained person, and I reckon that weaving is more suitable for people who are logical and diligent (which I am not). I never knew that setting up the loom would be so time-consuming – it requires a lot of concentration and meticulous care. After making a few mistakes while threading, I had to redo it all over again, which was very frustrating. Even while weaving, my threads constantly got tangled, and the more I tried to untangle, the worse it became, so I ended up spending hours after dinner in the weaving room trying to fix my mistakes.

After struggling for 2 weeks, I finally completely the 2 pieces thanks to Emma sensei’s patience and teachings, and I even received a certificate for it. Thankfully, I did not enroll onto the kasuri (double weaving) course right after, because I was told by my classmates that it was very complicated and even they struggled with it.

Despite it all, I am glad that I took the course and learned the basics of weaving, meanwhile I realised that weaving is not for me as I much prefer freestyle weaving, natural/indigo dyeing, shibori or block printing. However, it was interesting to spend three weeks staying in the suburbs of Kyoto exploring places that I normally would not visit if I was staying in the city centre.

Ichihara is a quiet suburban town reachable via bus or the Eizan railway from the centre of Kyoto. The railway line ends in Kurama, a popular day trip destination for visiting the sacred Mount Kurama and its famous temples. The train journey is very scenic, with some special scenic trains and a maple tree tunnel, which I believe would like spectacular in autumn. Interestingly, the seating inside some trains were woven by Kawashima textile company, and I even spotted some small ‘photo-like’ woven tapestries at the Ichihara train station. It is easy to miss them as they look like ordinary sightseeing photos (see above)!

The Daijingu-sha Shrine behind the railway station

Over the three weeks, my classmates and I would spend the weekends exploring either the city or its surrounding area. On weekdays, I would sometimes go for walks around the town after dinner. Since the town is located in the mountainous region, with Kurama river running through it, it is very tranquil as few Kyotojin would visit this area, let alone tourists.

I think the school has certainly picked the right location for its students as there isn’t much to do in the surrounding area, but nature is plentiful, thus very inspiring for the students. Sadly I learned that local students (especially male) who apply for the weaving courses have been dwindling in recent years as less youngsters are interested in becoming full-time weavers in this day and age. There are exchange programmes with schools overseas, and students can also get apprenticeship/jobs at the factory, but I am not sure if these are ‘appealing’ enough for them. I know that the school also runs short courses on weaving and natural dyeing for the locals, so I hope that these would help promote the school and the craft of weaving. It would be a real shame to lose the school as it is part of Kyoto’s craft heritage, and it needs to be preserved for future generations.

The art of shibori at Bunzaburo in Kyoto

Posted on September 10, 2018 by Toothpicker

Katayama Bunzaburo Shoten’s flagship store in Kyoto

When I was going through my pile of leaflets/ business cards that I picked up from my previous trips to Kyoto, one particular leaflet caught my attention. It was from Bunzaburo, a tie-dyed/ shibori (the term means “to squeeze or wring”) company in Kyoto. Oddly enough, I couldn’t recollect much from my previous visit, so I decided to pay another visit to its shop while I was in Kyoto.

Opened in Kyoto in 1915 by Bunzaburo Katayama, Katayama Bunzaburo Shoten specialised in the manufacturing of high-end kimono silk fabric with shibori tie-dye decorations, especially Kyo Kanoko Shibori (tiny dotted pattern that resembles a young deer’s back). Although Shibori is often associated with Arimatsu in Nagoya (which I will write about in the forthcoming entry), the Kyo Kanoko Shibori technique was created in Kyoto and has been handed down without cessation for over 1,000 years by a number of craftsmen.

Unfortunately, like many of the traditional arts and crafts in Japan, the kimono industry is under threat in this and age, and many producers have to either adapt or face closure. At Bunzaburo, “Tradition exists in innovations” is the motto of their third generation president, Kazuo Katayama. For over 100 years, they have continued to innovate and merge traditional techniques with new designs; one of their design concept is “Wearable Art” – using bold designs to create a fusion of fashion and art. And in 1991, they won the Best Design Award in the Made in Kyoto Award (appointed by Kyoto Prefecture) for their creation, Aimu – a glass plate which allows a thin piece of Japanese indigo-dyed hemp fabric to be sandwiched in the middle.

When you step into their shop housed inside a traditional Japanese house through the shibori noren, you would be surrounded by beautiful and elegant shibori lighting and accessories. I literally felt a sense of exhilaration as soon I walked in.

Having previously learnt some basic shibori techniques, I understand how time-consuming it is to create these work, though this may not be the case for the shop’s visitors. Hence, in order for customers to understand the processes, they have an area displaying and explaining various shibori techniques, which I think is fantastic.

When the friendly shop assistant came over for a chat, she was extremely thrilled when I told her that I will be doing a workshop on indigo dyeing and shibori. She started explaining their products to me, including a new range of leather handbags and shoes that feature shibori patterns (and she kindly modeled the shoes for me). I could sense the pride she felt for her company’s products, and she was more than happy to give me their brochures to take home.

The shop offers a wide range of fashion items and accessories including wearable bracelets and rings, which are affordable and great as gifts. If you are interested in shibori, then this shop is a ‘must’ stop in Kyoto.

KATAYAMA BUNZABURO SHOTEN

221 Hashibenkeicho Takoyakusidori Karasuma Nishiiru, Nakagyo-ku, Kyoto

Gardens, temples, and zazen in Kyoto

Posted on September 9, 2018 by Toothpicker

A view of Tofukuji’s Tsutenkyo Bridge

It is on every tourist’s itinerary to visit at least one/two karesansui (dry landscape garden) in Kyoto, but during the peak season, it is best to avoid the famous ones and head for the less crowded gardens. A few years ago, I visited Kyoto in February and did an intensive garden tour (with less visitors) in the Northwest Kyoto and Arashiyama, hence I decided to focus more around the central area on this trip.

Before my trip, I started to read books on Japanese zen gardens, but I don’t think learning the symbols or trying to understand the layout and design make much sense until you immerse yourself in that environment. I started studying and practising Zen Buddhism about 4 years ago (after trying out different practices with various organisations for years); its teachings emphasise that Zen is not an intellectual practice, but something that one has to experience to understand. Meanwhile, if you try really hard, you are likely to fail, too. I feel that one has to treat zen/dry landscape gardens as abstract art/ sculptures, and it is up to the viewers to ‘feel’ and find their own emotional connections with these gardens.

Tofuku-ji Temple and garden

My previous experiences at the extremely touristy and crowded Kiyomizu-dera, Ginkaku-ji temple and Ryoan-ji Temple were anything but tranquil, which is a shame because the essence of these temples and gardens are somewhat ruined by tourists who only more concerned with picking boxes on their packed itineraries.

Luckily, there are thousands of temples and gardens in Kyoto, so you are likely to find some off the beaten track spots that have not been invaded by package tour groups. Located in southeast Kyoto, Tofuku-ji Temple is extremely popular during the fall season for its stunning foliage, but otherwise it is fairly quiet. Founded in 1236, it is the head temple of the Tofukuji School of the Rinzai sect of Zen Buddhism, and one of the five great temples in Kyoto. The Sammon Gate from 1425 was designated as one of the Japanese National Treasure Buildings, and the gardens are designated as a National Site of Scenic Beauty.

The Hojo gardens at Tofuku-ji Temple

The main building, Hojo, was was reconstructed in 1890, and has four gardens arranged around the building. These gardens were laid out in 1939 by the famous artist/landscape designer, Mirei Shigemori (who also created the gardens at Koyasan’s Saizen-in featured in my earlier entry), who intended to express the simplicity of Zen in the Kamakura period with the abstract construction of modern arts. The most unique and famous one has to be north garden featuring squared stones and moss arranged in a chequered pattern. It is intriguing and original; I love how moss is being used here, which creates a strong contrast against the solid grey stones.

Chishakuin temple and garden

Chishakuin Temple is another large temple complex that is visited more by Japanese visitors than foreign tourists. It is the headquarters of the Chisan School of the Shingon Sect of Buddhism, originally located in Koyasan.

This temple is best known for its mural paintings (National Treasures) and a beautiful garden that features a pond and artificial hills inspired by the area around Mt. Rozan in China. This temple was quiet and peaceful during my visit, and it was particularly interesting to see the monks playing musical instruments while striding towards the main hall.

Monks gathering and playing musical instruments outside of the Chishakuin temple

Although the Soto Zen school is the largest of three traditional sects in Japan, many of the well-known temples in central Kyoto belong to the Rinzai sect, and some of them also offer zazen sessions to the public. I wanted to attend a session at a temple, and even though I am a Soto Zen practitioner, I wasn’t too bothered about the lineage as long as it served the purpose.

I chose to attend an one-hour afternoon session at Shorin-ji Temple, a sub-temple of Tofuku-ji Temple. And to my surprise, the room was completely full with attendees including Japanese office workers, high school students, foreign visitors, and even young kids. It was especially encouraging to see young children sitting still for two 15-minute sessions. A monk priest conducted the session and gave instructions in Japanese, while foreign visitors were given some basic instructions on paper.

Zazen at Shorin-ji Temple

I have heard a lot about keisaku (awakening stick), which is a flat wooden stick used during periods of zazen to remedy sleepiness or lapses of concentration, but I have never been hit before ( nor did I want to). Here, it is possible to request the monk priest to hit your shoulder by putting the palms together, and then lowering the head and body forward slightly. I am no sadist, but I couldn’t resist my curiosity… when the priest struck me, it somewhat took me by surprise and all I could feel was pain. Then gradually the pain eased away and I felt more relaxed and alert at the same time. During the session, I asked to be hit twice (so did the young girl/kid opposite me) and did not mind it at all, which was quite a revelation to me. If you want to try a zazen session in Kyoto, I would recommend a visit to this temple.

Reikan-ji Temple

Along the Philosopher’s Path, there are some beautiful lesser known temples and gardens that offer serene settings with few visitors. Honen–in temple (see my earlier post) is one of them and the other is the charming Reikan-ji temple, which is only open only for 2 weeks in spring and 2 weeks in autumn. This temple is famous for its camellias, and I arrived at the right time for it.

Reikan-ji is a monzeki (abbess-princess) nunnery of the and part of the Nanzen-ji School. It was established in 1654 for the tenth daughter of the retired Emperor Go-mizunoo. The temple houses screen paintings by Kano Eitoku and Kano Motonobu, numerous treasures related to the Imperial family and a collection of traditional Kyoto dolls (Gosho Ningyo). Yet it was the wonderful garden that captivated me most. Not only visitors could admire camellias in full bloom, but the grounds were also covered in petals from the cherry and camellia trees. The sea of pink petals looked almost like snow in winter – it was a mesmersising sight. This is one of my favourite gardens on this trip.

Reikan-ji Temple

Eikando Zenrin-ji

At the southern end of the Philosopher’s path lies Eikando Zenrin-ji temple, the head temple of the Seizan branch of Japan’s Jodo-shu Buddhist sect originally founded in 853. The temple has a long and complicated history, and houses many National Treasures including a famous Amida statue and Buddhist paintings since the Kamakura period (1185-1333).

The temple is famous for its autumn foliage, and it is less busy at other times. Nestled in Kyoto’s Eastern Mountain, Higashiyama, parts of the temple offer a nice view over the city. I was too exhausted to climb up to Tahoto, the pagoda that offers the best view at the compound.

Yudofu Hitotori (Boiled Tofu Set) lunch at Okutan in the grounds of Nanzen-ji Temple

Nanzenji Temple

Next to Eikando Zenrin-ji is Nanzenji Temple, the head temple of the Nanzen-ji branch of Rinzai Zen. This large complex contains many temple buildings including multiple sub-temples. Founded in the 13th century, the temple was burnt down and rebuilt many times over the centuries. Its famous Sanmon gate was originally constructed in the 13th century, destroyed in 1369 at the order of the government, and reconstructed in 1628. The hojo garden is considered to be one of the best examples of karesansui gardens, and was created by the notable feudal lord/gardener and tea ceremony master, Kobori Enshu, in the 17th century.

After a long day of visiting various temples and gardens along the Philosopher’s Path, I was feeling exhausted and templed out by the time I reached Nazenji. As much as I wanted to visit its famous garden, I decided to skip it (the crowd was also a bit off-putting) and headed straight to my last temple visit of the day – Konchi-in, a small sub-temple at the Nanzenji temple complex.

Why Konchi-in? While I was planning my trip, the “crane and turtle” garden at Konchi-in was mentioned in my Zen garden book and praised by various articles as one of the best examples of shakkei (borrowed scenery) in Kyoto. Also, the temple’s tea ceremony room is one of the three major tea rooms in Kyoto. And unlike Nanzenji temple, there were only a few visitors when I visited this temple and garden, so it was a refreshing break from the crowds.

Founded in the 15th century, this temple was relocated and made the residence of the Nanzenji’s Abbot, Ishin Suden, in 1626. As a connoisseur of the tea ceremony, he built a new hojo and created a new tea room. He commissioned Kobori Enshu (who was also responsible for the hojo garden at Nanzenji) to design a new garden that payed homage to the Tokugawa dynasty, which resulted in the “crane and turtle” garden.

Kochi-in Temple and its famous “crane and turtle” garden

I sat quietly opposite the garden to look for the crane and turtle but failed. However, it is a beautiful and tranquil garden, so even if you can’t read or understand the symbolic meaning of the garden, you could still appreciate its picturesque and relaxing setting.

Murin-an

Situated near Nanzen-ji temple, Murin-an is not a popular destination for tourists because it is not within a temple compound. It is a Meiji period strolling garden built between 1894 and 1896 by Yamagata Aritomo, a former two-time Prime Minister of Japan. He was a keen gardener, and worked with Japanese master gardener Ogawa Jihee on this plot of land bought from Nanzen-ji. Interestingly, it is in an East-meets-West style that is influenced by English landscape gardens and Western architecture.

The garden uses the eastern hills of Kyoto as a viewpoint, adopting the technique of shuzan – so that it appears as an extension of the mountain scenery. There is also a small stream that is fed by the waters of the nearby Lake Biwa, Japan’s biggest lake. I particularly liked this garden because the scenery is perpetually changing as you walk further away from the building. There is always something unexpected hidden from your view as you walk forward, and it gives you a sense of exploration and anticipation.

Murin-an

There are two buildings here, and one of them is a Japanese style wooden villa with a tea room where visitors could rest and have tea opposite the scenic garden; the other is a Western brick building where meetings of foreign policy took place before the Russo-Japanese War in 1904-5.

If you are planning a trip to Kyoto, I urge you to look for some lesser-known temples and gardens where you are likely to be pleasantly surprised. And best of all, you could take your time and enjoy the garden quietly with very few visitors.

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Kaikado tea caddies shop & cafe in Kyoto

Posted on September 7, 2018 by Toothpicker

Since I only had four days in kyoto (including a day out at Miho museum with my friend), I didn’t manage to fit much shopping in. Hence I targeted a few shops either close to where I was staying or near a sight I wanted to visit. One of the shops that was high on my agenda was a small tea caddy shop near my lodging in the Kawarmachi district.

Kaikado is a traditional tea caddies maker established in 1875, which makes them the oldest handmade tin tea caddies maker in the world. And it all started from the tin plates imported from Cornwall of all places!

Using imported tin from England, the company’s founder, Kiyosuke kaikado, designed the first generation of tin tea caddy. His aim was to provide a well-designed, functional tea caddy capable of storing the type of tea leaves commonly sold by tea dealers and merchants. His successors later added copper and brass to their collection, developed a two-tiered design, whilst still maintaining the traditional techniques and basic shapes. Their iconic Chazutsu (the standard Kaikado Tea Canister) involves a 130-step fabrication process, and are still being produced and used across Japan including the Japanese Imperial household.

Their small shop near the canal is easy to miss, and I had to walk back and forth a few times to check the number. Also, I wasn’t sure if it was opened either, and I hesitated a while before entering inside. Once inside, I felt as if I had walked into a craftsman’s workshop and mini museum… there are tools on display and lots of beautiful tea caddies everywhere, including labels that indicate how long it takes for the colours of the metals to change. It is the changes of metal colours that make these caddies so unique. Since the philosophy of wabi sabi is deeply ingrained in the Japanese culture and aesthetics, it enables them to appreciate the beauty of rustic objects, imperfection, and embrace the state of impermanence. Hence, these tea caddies are not just about good design and craftsmanship, they also embody the essence of the wabi sabi philosophy and aesthetics.

Located not far from the shop is their spacious cafe housed inside a restored 90-year-old listed building that used to be a garage and administration office. Opened in 2016, the cafe was designed by Thomas Lykke from Danish design and architecture studio, OeO. The tea caddies are displayed on shelves and behind the glass cabinet, and they blend extremely well with the Nordic/Japanese style decor.

The simple menu offers snacks, cakes, as well as coffee from Japanese roaster Nakagawa Wani Coffee, black teas from Postcard tea London, and green tea from Rishouen tea Uji. I had their Ice matcha latte and it was very good. Prices here are not cheap, but I liked the relaxing ambience and decor, and best of all, it wasn’t packed with tourists even during the peak tourist season. Believe me, tranquility is worth the extra two hundred yen!

Kakaido shop: 84-1 Umeminatocho, Shimogyo Ward, Kyoto

Kakaido cafe: 352 Sumiyoshi-cho, Shimogyoku, Kyoto

Kawai Kanjiro Memorial Museum in Kyoto

Posted on September 3, 2018 by Toothpicker

I have wanted to visit Japanese potter, Kawai Kanjiro‘s former house – now his Memorial Museum for a long time. Yet for some reason, I never made it until this trip… it was a timely visit as the museum was like a quiet sanctuary compared to hassle and bustle in the centre of the city.

Born 1890, Kawai Kanjiro was a prominent figure in Mingei (Japanese folk art) movement founded by Japanese philosopher, Yanagi Soetsu, in the 1920s and 30s, as well as the studio pottery movements led by Bernard Leach. According to Yanagi, everyday and utilitarian objects made by the anonymous craftsmen are ‘beyond beauty and ugliness’. They are inexpensive and functional ware made for ordinary people, rather than ornaments to be placed on shelves as decorations.

Kawai acquainted and collaborated with British potter, Bernard Leach (who founded Leach Pottery with another well-known Japanese potter, Shoji Hamada) throughout his life, hence he often combined English with Japanese elements together to create pottery pieces that are asymmetrical.

Luckily, Kawai‘s beautiful wooden farm house seems to be under the tourists’ radar, so I was able to wander and absorb the subdued and tranquil setting. Designed by Kawai and built by his brother in 1937, the house had been left untouched since his death in 1966. It is not hard to see the influence of Zen Buddhism and the philosophy of wabi sabi (the aesthetics often associated with ‘imperfection’) at this house, in particular when he talks of ’emptiness’ in the his essay titles “We Do Not Work Alone”:

“When you become so absorbed in your work that beauty flows naturally then your work truly becomes a work of art… Everything that is, is not. Everything is, yet at the same time, nothing is. I myself am the emptiest of all.”

One of the most impressive sights at the house is his huge kiln at the back, which has been well preserved. Beside pottery, Kawai also did wood carving, furniture design, metal casting and calligraphy, and these works can be seen around the house/museum. I found the museum and his work utterly inspiring, and I think it is possible to imagine the kind of person he was from his craft, designs and writings. The aesthetics of this house is so sublime and understated that it would take some time to grasp it, and you may need to return again to appreciate it fully.

Hiroyuki Shindo’s Little indigo museum in Miyama

Posted on July 12, 2018 by Toothpicker

Sometimes it doesn’t matter how much planning you do before your trip, things would still go wrong… but miraculously, some kind strangers/ locals would appear out of nowhere to help you out. I am sure many people have had these experiences when they travel, and I think it is probably the most ‘rewarding’ part of traveling. This happened to me when I traveled from Kyoto to Miyama, a small remote village in the mountains 50 kilometers north of central Kyoto.

Miyama is famous for its traditional, thatched roof (kayabuki) farmhouses scattered around the valley. I have read about The little indigo museum before my trip, and I really wanted to visit this museum. However, the journey from Kyoto to Miyama would require a train ride followed by a very infrequent bus service, which would take around 2 hours. Hence, I decided to spend a night there and I contacted the local tourism office 3 months ahead to book a room at the village’s only minshuku.

Yet a few weeks before the journey, I found out that the museum closes every Friday – the day I was planning to visit. I wrote an email to the museum asking if they could open earlier on Saturday before my bus journey back to kyoto, but I didn’t hear back and I got slightly worried. Meanwhile, the weather in Kyoto also changed drastically – from sunny 27 degrees to heavy rain and 17 degrees overnight.

Finally, the night before my departure, I received an email from Mr Hiroyuki Shindo, the owner of the museum apologising for the late reply and said he would welcome me at the museum on Friday afternoon. It was a relief for me (for a while) until I arrived at the station for the bus transfer, where I found out from a Japanese couple by the bus stop that the bus was not coming. Confused, wet and frustrated, I ended up sharing a taxi with four strangers (including an elderly Japanese lady and a Taiwanese tourist) heading towards the next town for the bus, which was about 30 mins drive away. The whole experience was quite surreal, but I was glad to have met these kind strangers and we had an interesting conversation during our taxi ride.

Two bus rides later, I finally reached Miyama, and I quickly rushed over to the minshuku, but no one was in. I decided not to wait around and and headed straight towards the museum.

I couldn’t believe the journey it took me to get to the museum (1 train, 1 taxi and 2 buses), and the downpour didn’t help either. Hence, it was a consolation when I was greeted by the friendly and hospitable Mr Shindo and his wife when I entered the house.

Housed inside a 200 year-old thatched roof farmhouse, the museum was established by Mr Shindo in 2005. The museum on the top floor displays some of his larger installation work and his collection of indigo textiles from around the world. On the ground floor is his indigo dyeing studio, where both he and his son work. He said that his son and family have moved back to Miyama from the city and is now working in the studio while he takes a step back from work.

Although Mr Shindo was not born in this village, he has lived and worked here for over 30 years. As a world-renowned indigo/textiles artist, his abstract and bold contemporary textile works have exhibited around the world in leading museums. I was notably awed by the precision of the dye in his works. When I asked him if teaches/conducts workshops, he shook his head and said that it would be impossible to learn this craft within a few hours or even a few days. I understood what he meant and agreed with him.

I was impressed and intrigued by Mr Shindo’s beautiful collection from different parts of the world, which includes several traditional woodblock prints featuring shibori textiles. One particular item caught my eye and it was an indigo-dyed rucksack with straw backing. Mr Shindo explained to me that it is a vintage bridal rucksack that used to carry the bride’s essentials on the wedding day. I think the rucksack could still be used today (perhaps not at a wedding) and it would not even look outdated.

After the museum tour, Mr Shindo invited me for some tea downstairs and we spent the next hour of so chatting about indigo, his work and my trip etc. I told him that I became interested in shibori after seeing a Japanese textiles exhibition at MOMA in NYC years ago, and to my surprise, he said that he also took part at that exhibition. I also learned that he is good friends with textiles artist, Hiroshi Saito, whom I ran into a few days ago at the temple, and Mr Shindo was amazed by my chance encounter with him.

Acknowledging my interest in shibori, Mr Shindo took out an A4 size box full of shibori techniques which he produced when he was a youngster. He explained that there are hundreds of shibori techniques, and it took him a long time to compile and create this reference box. I have never seen anything like this before and I was quite blown away by what I saw. Later, when I told him that I would be visiting Arimatsu the next day (a village famous for shibori in Nagoya), he quickly told me where to visit and even drew a map for me. Before I departed, I bought a DVD on the history of indigo, as well as some coasters and a scarf made by Mr Shindo and his wife.

I had such a fascinating conversation with Mr Shindo,and I completely lost track of time. I must have spent over 2 hours at the museum, and it was getting dark outside, so it was time for me to head to the minshuku. Yet within 15 minutes’ time, I was back at the museum feeling confused and anxious…

I was in shock when I got to the minshuku and the owner said that there was a ‘mistake’ and his place was ‘full’! He couldn’t speak much English, so he suggested that we return to Mr Shindo’s and ask him to translate. It turned out that he had overbooked and despite the fact that i had booked months in advance, all the rooms were occupied that night. I couldn’t believe my luck, and I was feeling anxious as I was told that there is no other accommodation in the village. Finally, a phone call later, he said that he could drive me to a bigger guesthouse nearby as they have a room available. He was very apologetic and said he would cover the extra cost of the room as it was his fault. I didn’t care where I would spend the night as long as it was safe, clean and warm, so it was a relief to know that there would be a shelter for me that night.

After a short drive from the village, we arrived at Miyama Nature and Culture Village Kajikaso. Before I left the museum, Mr Shindo assured me that the guesthouse is decent and has a nice onsen, and he was right. After a stressful day when almost everything went wrong, I couldn’t have been happier to be bathing alone outdoor in bath covered with pink cherry blossom petals while the rain fell onto my head and skin. After bathing outdoor by the river at Kawayu Onsen and inside a cave facing the sea in Kii Katsuura, this was my third onsen experience on this trip, and it was as blissful as the previous two. Yet the most unexpected surprise came in the morning when i walked into the dining room for breakfast – all i could see was pink cherry blossom outside of the window, which was utterly stunning.

Around 7 am I received a call from the reception informing me that Mr Shindo was in the lobby to see me. I quickly got dressed and went downstairs to meet him. Mr Shindo said he felt bad that I never got to see the village yesterday because of all the misfortunes I experienced yesterday, and he offered to show me around before I headed back to kyoto. He said he would come and pick me up after breakfast and would also drop me off at the bus stop afterwards.

Words could not describe how grateful and touched by his offer, and it completely took me by surprise. With only about an hour to spare, he drove me to the Chii Hachiman Shrine, a historic local shrine that has been designated as the Kyoto Prefectural Cultural Property. Although the rain hadn’t stopped, the mesmerising view of the village, thatched-roofed farm houses and misty mountains looked almost magical and fairy-tale-like to me.

After saying goodbye to Mr Shindo, I left Miyama full of gratitude and joy. My disastrous day turned out to be one of the most memorable day of my trip, and I felt blessed that I was helped by all the strangers I encountered on the day. And most of all, I would not forget the generosity and kindness of Mr Shindo, who is not only a master of his craft, but also an incredible person. If you love indigo textiles, then a trip to Miyama’s Little indigo museum is a must on your itinerary even if it is not the easiest place to get to. I guarantee you that it is worth the effort and time.

I.M. Pei’s Shangri-La – Miho Museum

Posted on July 9, 2018 by Toothpicker

“The Peach Blossom Land” was a Chinese fable written by poet Tao Yuanming in 421 CE about a fisherman’s discovery of a hidden valley – an ethereal utopia where contented people lead an ideal existence in harmony with nature, unaware of the outside world for centuries. It is similar to the mystical and harmonious valley Shangri-La described in the novel “Lost Horizon” by British author James Hilton. Interestingly, human beings have always longed for an utopia like Shangri-La, yet we never seem to be able to live harmoniously with nature, and we have irrefutably destroyed countless of Shangri-Las since human civilisation.

If Shangri-La does exist, what would it look like? Chinese/American architect I.M. Pei created his version in the mountains of Shigaraki about an hour outside of Kyoto. A friend strongly recommended the Miho museum to me years ago, but sadly it was closed for months during my last visit to Kyoto a few years ago. During this trip, I met up with a friend who was spending a few months in Kyoto, and she was keen to return to the museum despite having visited it a few weeks earlier. She told me that the museum’s famous cherry blossom was the reason for her to return to the museum, and suggested that we depart early to avoid the crowds. (N.B. the trip to the museum requires a train journey followed by another 50-min bus ride).

It turned out that other visitors had the same idea, so we had to travel with heaps of tourists heading towards the museum. The bus usually departs from the train station at every hour, but due to the unprecedented numbers of visitors, additional buses were deployed to cope with the mass numbers. Several buses full of visitors heading up to Shangri-La was not what I expected, and I doubt Mr Pei would have foresaw this either.

Opened in 1997, the museum was commissioned by the controversial heiress Mihoko Koyama and her daughter Hiroko to house her private collection of Asian and Western art and antiquities. Mihoko Koyama was the founder of the new religion movement Shinji Shumeikai, which is widely regarded as a cult group. From the museum, visitors can see the headquarters of the group and a bell tower, also designed by I.M. Pei in 1989. I am surprised by Mr Pei’s decision to work for a suspected cult leader, but I guess nothing is quite black or white in our complex world.

Perhaps Mr Pei was impressed by the site, which is located in a stunning nature reserve. There were many challenges that Mr Pei had to overcome, and one of them was to create harmony between the building and its surrounding environment and topography. And he succeeded this by burying eighty percent of the museum beneath the surface of the mountain. The museum itself is reachable through a tunnel and a suspected bridge, and the sight of the cherry trees is spectacular during the cherry blossom season. It is no wonder that so many tourists would make their way out of Kyoto to visit this museum.

The museum collection is not huge, but it is remarkable and fascinating. Best of all, it is complemented by the equally impressive architecture that emphasises on natural lighting and geometric forms – elements that is often seen in Mr Pei‘s works (e.g. Louvre’s Pyramid). I think the elegant and understated style resonates with the traditional Japanese aesthetics. Personally, I think this is Mr Pei‘s masterpiece, and one of the most stunning museums that I have ever visited. It felt like a discovery experience because you are never quite sure what you would encounter next.

After spending some time wandering around the museum, the crowds started to disperse and we were able to enjoy the space more. At lunch time, our stomachs were rumbling and we headed to the restaurant only to be told that lunch had sold out already! The waitress apologised politely and suggested that we go to the cafe near the parking to try our luck. Unsurprisingly, there was a long queue at the cafe and so we ended up buying some bread (not sandwich, but plain bread with no butter or filling) at their bakery as there was nothing else nearby. I was flabbergasted by how ill-prepared the museum was in regards to the high numbers of visitors, and got more agitated when I saw the long line of people waiting for the bus. Packed like sardines for almost an hour, we were transported to the train station, and I felt relieved to finally get away from other tourists.

It was a shame that my visit to the museum was tainted by the overwhelming of numbers of visitors – I think I would have enjoyed it more during the off-peak season. When I remembered my pilgrimage hike in Kumano Kodo just the week before, I realised that I had already found my Shangri-La – it is a tranquil and unspoilt place where nature rules. If men can learn to respect and listen to nature more, then we can see that Shangri-Las are everywhere, and it is not a special place that we have to seek.

Textiles of Hiroshi Saito at Honen-in in Kyoto

Posted on July 5, 2018 by Toothpicker

Honen-in temple by the Philosopher’s path

The older I get, the more I believe that everything happens for a reason, which includes the people we encounter over the course of our lifetime. And since I started running my own business, I discovered that when you follow your heart and passion, you are likely to attract the right people and opportunities. The road may still be bumpy, but perseverance and patience will get you through if you believe you are on the right track.

My interest in Japanese textiles started in 1998, after seeing an awe-inspiring exhibition at MOMA in NYC. Since then, I have taken various part-time courses on textiles, but it remained as a hobby after work. Last year, I decided to take a sabbatical to pursue my interests properly as I realised that I want to return to my roots – to design and create – and step back from the business side.

The itinerary I created for my Japan trip combined textiles, paper, nature and hiking – things and activities that I love. Although textiles was not on my agenda in Kyoto, I was fortunate enough to meet Kyoto-based textiles artist Hiroshi Saiton by chance at the Honen-in, which was a wonderful serendipitous encounter.

Like I mentioned in my previous entry, the Philosopher’s path in Kyoto can be quite daunting during the cherry blossom season due to the amount of tourists. Nonetheless, there are some smaller or less well-known temples near the path that are quite tranquil even in the peak seasons, and Honen-in is one of them. I remember visiting this delightful 17th century temple 12 years ago, which has changed little since my last visit. Yet what caught my attention this time was a poster of a textiles exhibition (for 1 week only) pinned on a wall outside of the temple…

With no clear signage, it took me sometime to find the exhibition hall, but as soon as I walked into the building, I was immediately struck by the beautiful textiles hanging at the entrance. I felt so excited to see all the vibrant colours, abstract forms and nature-inspired motifs hanging around the hall/corridor. Then I saw the friendly Kyoto-based textiles artists Mr Hiroshi Saito explaining his work to a korean visitor, and when they finished their conversation, I went to him to ask him more about his work. Mr Saito told me that in his eary career, he specialised in the traditional yuzen-dyeing techniques, and spent decades using synthetic dyes, but in recent years, he switched to natural dyes and has not used the synthetic ones again. It was very encouraging to hear, and when I showed him some photos of the natural and indigo dyeing workshops that I did in London, he looked thrilled and patted on my back with with a big smile on his face.

Mr Saito was deeply affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake in 2011 (which was partly why he switched to natural dyeing), so he started to travel to the Tohoku region to organise textiles activities for children to take part in. He also showed me photographs of the amazing paint brushes that he created out of various plants in place of conventional brushes. At the end of our conversation, I told him that I really like his beautiful shirt, and would have to take a photo of it (see above). I was very touched by Mr Saito‘s generosity, openness, and his inspiring textiles designs. I really hope that I can pay his studio a visit the next time I am in Kyoto.

There is not a lot of English info on the artist via the internet, but you can find his work on his studio/gallery Kaze Kobo‘s Facebook page, and his community work here (in Japanese only but there are many lovely photos).