from Noto

31/08/2016

2016 Snapshot 15 Evening Light

Evening Light

Visiting a place for a long time always offers the opportunity of planning a shot. In this case it was a matter of noticing that the setting sun would light one side of this street opposite from where I was staying in Wajima back in June 2015. I noted the time and planned to try and photograph this street half and hour later in order to capture the image. While the tiles and ridge ornaments are shown off by the lighting, I could have waited for a person to walk toward or away from me. My intension, however, was to show off the arrangement of roofs. The web of wires, poles and small transformers pictured only helped to lift the quality of the lighting and design on the left of the street. Trickery with the camera? A little but with a purpose—to express something using the light.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

Do feel free to pass on the address of this blog to anyone you think will be interested. Or share it on a social media site. Should you wish to leave a comment, please do so by clicking on the comment mark at the bottom left of this or any of the other posts. If you have found this blog interesting, why not become a follower. Thank you.

23/08/2016

Split and Bend—Bentwood Woodcraft

Split

Given that there are only slight differences in trees and their wood across the world, it is not surprising that the tools and skills to split wood, for example, are very much the same. It is only the uses to which the timber is put that is different.

In England oak has traditionally been split to be used in buildings. It is not uncommon even now to come across an old barn where boards of split oak are exposed and have been “woven” one over the other to fill in the spaces between structural timbers. They were used as laths to be covered with an earth daub, finished with a lime plaster and painted with an ochre, salmon pink or white paint made from natural sources. In Japan, however, split timber is mainly used for craft items.

Rather like the random “happy accidents” which occur when firing pottery, split timber offers the woodworker a similar spontaneity. What they have to do is to make a choice on how to use and express the effect revealed by splitting the timber. It is certainly a matter of “working with the timber”—the timber contributes just as much to the work as the artist/craftsperson.

For Mitsuru Kurata, however, his demands on the wood are to a degree functional. He wants to bend the wood. The work begins with a large piece of timber. One of the preferred woods is hiba or asunaro.

Asunaro is used a good deal in Wajima but is especially good for bentwood items such as lunch or bento boxes, which will show off the quality of the wood and provide a bonus—a delicate aroma.

To split a trunk of Asunaro well, of course needs a skilled eye and hand. Metal wedges similar to the British cleaving tool called a froe but without a handle are used first to open the slightest of splits.

The first two metal wedges are hammered in.

Next to the rubber headed mallet is a small hand mallet. It is simply made from where a branch joins a main member and a handle is fashioned by parring away the wood, similar to ones used by foresters in the west.

To drive the wedges deeper into the wood a weighty rubber mallet is used.

The metal wedges are followed by long wooden wedges.

The heavy rubber mallet is used to force the wedges in.

Finally the wood yields and is split in two.

Having split the wood so that the straight grain is exposed, strips of the right dimension need to be prepare.

Bend

As if performing some kind of slight of hand, Mitsuru clamps a bent ring of wood to form the side of a bento box.

Seated at the end of a work bench on the floor of his workshop, Mitsuru has everything he needs close at hand….and foot!

Using a draw plane he adjusts the thickness of the already thin timber strip that will form the side of the bento box.

A block of wood made to exact dimensions is used as a former around which the prepared strip of wood is bent.

His hands move swiftly and firmly to bend the strip around the former.

Having shaved the two ends of the strip so that they overlap perfectly, Mitsuru clamps the ends to form the oval side of the bento box.

A minimum of tools are required to make a bento box. The strips of wood for the sides and lid have a very straight grain, which helps when bending the wood. The clamps are hand made and held tightly together with a vine and straight U-shaped clip.

Something Mitsuru does not make much now is this large fisherman’s lunch box. The joins of the bent wood are reinforced with strips of cherry bark. Just like the bento box, it is a piece of everyday craft, or is it art?

Take a look at Mitsuru’s blog on which there are some more photographs.

http://blogs.yahoo.co.jp/qmpfd274

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

13/08/2016

Ceremony—Diatomaceous Earth

Assembled before a memorial column commemorating from where the diatomaceous earth—jinoko—was discovered, the Shinto priests prepare to make their blessing. Offerings of fish, vegetables and saké adorn the temporary alter. Thin culms of bamboo help to mark the hallowed spot.

Respect and Reverence

Having lived in Japan for 24 years I often witnessed and experienced how respectful the Japanese people are. It is so natural that it would seem to be part of their very make-up. It could simply be called politeness, or good manners. In essence, however, it can be recognised as various kinds of behaviour expressing respect for and extending beyond their fellow human beings.

The gathering of representatives from the Wajima lacquerware makers and city officials bow respectfully as the priest reads out the blessing.

Regardless of whether they are pets or wild, the Japanese have as much respect for animals as they do for people. Nature, too, is shown great respect although there are always exceptions. The litter left by climbers of Mr. Fuji is well known.

Should we regard the tatami mat as something that is shown respect? In some cases it is treated with such a degree of respect it verges on reverence.

Pellets of the diatomaceous earth dry on racks in view of the proceedings.

One thing for sure. There can be few if any other cultures around the world that would show respect and revere a type of earth with such dignity.

The Mayor of Wajima, Fumiaki Kaji, respectfully claps his hands three times—firstly to announce his presence to the deity, secondly as an expression of his appreciation and lastly to frighten off any evil spirits.

A little way from the centre of Wajima, is Mt. Komine. It was from here that a diatomaceous rock was first extracted toward the end of the sixteenth century. Made up of fossilised single-celled algae with a silica cell wall, the earth is dried and then roasted before being made into a powder called jinoko. It is mixed with raw lacquer and rice paste to be used as a ground, which helps to give Wajima lacquerware its acclaimed robustness. This was an advantage and selling point that other lacquerware makers could only dream of.

It is then perhaps little wonder that this powdery rock is so greatly venerated. It warrants a Shinto priest to be summoned to bless the source at a ceremony attended by representatives of the lacquerware industry as well as the Mayor and other city officials.

Representing the lacquerware makers, Shin’ichi Shioyasu addresses the gathering, all of whom have respectfully turned to face him.

Treated like a deity the source is shown all due respect. And rightly so. It means so much to the lacquerware makers in Wajima. To me it is things like this that set Japan and its people apart and should make us all more attentive as to how and why we should show respect and reverence. Sadly even Japan is not perfect. But living there certainly made me reflect on so much. I hope I am a better person for it.

A report on my presence at the ceremony in the Hokkoku Newspaper, explaining that I was in Wajima gathering material for the blog, from Noto.

Want to know more about diatomaceous earth? http://npic.orst.edu/factsheets/degen.html

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

08/08/2016

2016 Kitamae Shipping—five

The fascia of this contemporary “sea chest” styled cabinet is a gem—wonderful metal fittings over a piece of zelkova wood, which has been finished with true lacquer. The wood has the figuring of a burr and is termed tama-moku. Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

Dedication Personified

All serious craftspeople are dedicated. That goes without saying. But amongst so many Ryohei Kido’s degree of commitment and dedication is something special.

This chest flirts with tradition in a meaningful way, without being a simple reproduction.

Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kiko.

On leaving University he began working for a regional newspaper as a journalist. It was then that he become interested in tansu—the chests which have now become so popular outside of Japan. But it was the sea chests in particular that interested Ryohei.

He bravely decided to pursue a new career after meeting a maker of fine interior fittings. Soon after becoming an apprentice, however, his sensei, Yoshio Yotsuya suddenly passed away. What was Ryohei to do? He had a family to support but was determined to learn woodworking skills.

On opening the front door of this kakesuzuri sea chest, a number of drawers are revealed but there is much to frustrate the would-be thief. Locks are not the only irritation. Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

While engaged in some formal training at two different firms making timber household fittings, he continued to visit stores to increase his knowledge of tansu in general and funa-dansu—sea chests—in particular.

Returning to the same stores, he gradually became more and more familiar with the chests of his passion and, at the same time, got to know the store owners, who began to understand just how sincere and passionate Ryohei really was. Eventually store owners began to ask him to do some repairs and thus “the sea chests became my teacher”.

What is seen hides what is cunningly concealed. This is a relatively simple example of how boxes can be hidden in such a way as to thwart and foil a would be thief, not only in finding them but in extracting them, too. Image courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

At first he began by making the more simple kakesuzuri sea chest—a combined safe and stationary chest. It was not unusual for such chests to have hidden compartments and drawers, so making such devices was something that Ryohei had to study.

He later began to make larger chests, either with hidden compartments of a type he had seen before, or to actually develop his own ways of concealing spaces and boxes within the body of a chest. For one of his customers he even had to make a video to demonstrate how to access and use the concealed compartments he had devised.

This larger sea chest could be carried ashore for the Captain, who would do business with local merchants at the port of call. Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

It was not just the woodwork skills he had to acquire. Ryohei also made a point of making all the metal fittings too. Like the wood, these are coated with true lacquer, heat being used to effect the bond between the two materials. Nails and locks also had to be made. With no previous experience of working in metal, it was his wife, Akiko, who took on some of this work.

The locks and keys are individually made by Ryohei, with the assistance of his wife.

Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

Although more recently Ryohei has concentrated on the making of sea-chest-style pieces, he is far from a slave to tradition. He is inventive and adapts what he makes to suit modern conditions, while still stylistically flirting with historical styles and methods.

This simple sword chest would not look out of place in the modernest of interiors with its simple lines and beautifully finished fittings and figured zelkova wood. Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

In complete contrast to the precision and glowing artistry of the his sea chests, Ryohei has also explored another form of cabinet making. This is a knock-down chest made of boards which still bear the scares of a traditional Japanese broad bladed saw. Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

His Nomad chest displays other interests. It has a character that could not be further from that of the sea chests—not showy but still highly appealing. It was inspired by a piece of Afghan furniture. He used a traditional Japanese panel saw to cut the boards and expressed the scares left by the saw using several applications of true lacquer.

Resolute and determined, Ryohei continues to make exciting pieces of furniture—traditions are respected and moulded to satisfy his passions and contemporary life styles. Whatever he does he remains dedication personified.

If you would like to see more of Ryohei’s work, please copy and paste iwate.info.co.jp/funadansu/ or enter 木戸良平 (his name in characters) for images of his work. Alternatively go to his FaceBook page https://www.facebook.com/seachest.hakoya/.

All images courtesy of Ryohei Kido

Do feel free to pass on the address of this blog to anyone you think will be interested. Or share it on social media. Should you wish to leave a comment, please do so by clicking on the comment mark at the bottom left of this or any of the other posts. If you have found this blog interesting, why not become a follower. Thank you.

30/07/2016

Kitamae Shipping—Four

An early style of sea chest loosely following land-based “safes” called kakesuzuri.

Made by Ryohei Kido. Photo courtesy of Ryohei Kido.

Keep it Safe

These days payments for everyday purchases in cash are becoming more and more of a rarity. Although slow to be introduced, even in Japan card payments can now be made for more or less anything. Nevertheless, cash payments, especially with new notes, always seem to have a good deal of kudos.

As it was in most countries, sixty or so years ago in Japan cash was the only way of paying for goods and a trip to a bank was the only way of getting any. In rural areas in particular cash was quite naturally precious and provision for keeping it safe had to be made.

A simple domestic style of tansu in zelkova wood made by Matsumoto Mingei Kagu, a furniture company which specialises in making both Japanese and western style high quality folkcraft furniture. (Search: matsumin.com)

Most homes back then had a traditional style of chest or tansu in the house, either for clothes, for food and china or for items of any value. At least one chest would have been a kind of “safe” in which to keep money under lock and key. But that was not the only way of protecting money.

Recently a 75 year-old Japanese lady who lived deep in the mountains near Okayama when she was a child, told me how money was kept in a special chest with a hidden compartment.

It was this kind of very carefully engineered cabinetmaking that was essential for a Captain of a Kitamae ship. He was generally not only the captain of his vessel but also entrusted with money and documents related to his cargo. When in a port he was a focus of trade and his sea chest or funa-tansu was not only a functional piece of furniture but also a status symbol representative of his social standing.

A ship’s master may have owned the ship he sailed in or was hired by the owner or shipping organisation. In whichever case the Captain had to be someone who could be trusted. His sea chest, therefore, ensured a level of confidence with which those who either employed him or traded with him could feel comfortable with.

Hidden compartments, access to which was only known to the Captain, were required to deter any casual thief and to frustrate the more determined villain or pirate.

A very large plank of zelkova wood at a timber auction in Gifu, central Japan. It measured about six metres in length and over a metre at its widest point. The plank was about 8 cm thick. The grain can be very complex and is enhanced by the application of lacquer, which fills the pores. The whole plank would be sold in one piece and processed according to its application.

Potential buyers gather round the massive boards, which are sold individually,

either by open auction or by concealed bids.

The sea chests were usually made of zelkova wood—a type of figured hardwood similar to elm—and reinforced with decorative metal fittings. Keys and catches, sliding panels and hinged doors all played their part in forming secreted compartments designed to house cash or valuable documents.

The exterior and some of the inner surfaces were finished with true lacquer—it served to protect the wood, to enhance the grain and to generally enrich the overall appearance of a chest with its black metal fittings.

Paulownia wood was generally used for inner draws and boxes because of its light weight and ability to absorb moisture. It is thought, too, that it helped to make one of these sea chests buoyant, sometimes only floating just below the surface and thus avoiding detection. If a chest was washed overboard and found its way to a shore, it could generally be identified by some mark or other amongst the fittings.

With a sea chest all was safe. Well, save enough, unless an interested party was willing to run off with one in tact.

Iwayado tansu made in Iwate prefecture in the north of Japan can be very decorative and grand. This example was made by Fujisato Woodcraft (Search: Iwate.info.co.jp/IwayadoTansu/ ) English site available.

The metalwork of an Iwayado tansu is often very elaborate.

Reference: TRADITIONAL JAPANESE CABINETRY published by Weatherhill, Inc. written by Ty and Kiyoko Heineken. In-depth information on Sea Chests and other types of tansu.

First edition,1981

First paperback edition, 2004

published by Weatherhill, Inc,41Monroe Turnpike,Trumbull,CT 06611

Unless stated all images by Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

24/07/2016

Kitamae Shipping—Three

This votive panel shows a Kitamae ship dating from the late nineteenth-century of about 150 tons and with a crew of between 10 to 20. It also has a jib and spinnaker, which may have been added as a result of influence from the West. Courtesy of Mr. Okizaki Photo © Copyright.

How was the ride?

There is no keel. In fact at the time the authorities would not allow the ships to be built with a keel. Would the ship have rolled much? My senses say “yes” and the notoriously rough waters of the the Japan Sea would not have helped. As it happens many ships would avoid sailing between November and the following March, when the sea could be very rough, the winds strong and conditions were made worst by heavy falls of snow. Even today the railway routes along the Japan Sea coast are often the first to suffer delays if not stoppages during the harsh weather conditions of the winter months.

Any other disadvantages were overcome with ingenuity and were at least managed if not actually turned to advantages. The large ships were anchored off shore and sometimes moored to the coast at hewn mooring holes. Here is one found by Mr. Okizaki. (Mr. Okizaki Photo © Copyright.) As mentioned before cargos were off-loaded into smaller boats and rowed through channels to the shallows of the bays where the beaches became “ports”.

An example of a thirteenth-century ship with a facility to have boards beyond the gunwales. Illustration from Nihon no Fune (Ships and Boats of Japan) published by Fune no Kagaku-kan (Museum of Maritime Science, Tokyo) in 1977.

Incidentally my own studies of traditional architecture have a connection with the Kitamae ships. The bracketing system at first-floor level or for eaves of some traditional buildings is know as segai-zukuri. (In the UK extensions of upper floors are known as jetting.) Although the characters were probably cobbled together at some point in history, they alluded to the way that a boat can be “enlarged” to carry more cargo and yet can still be rowed. In the simplest method beams are laid across the hull and boards are placed beyond the gunwales. The Kitamae ship also had decks slightly wider than the hulls, thus making the most of the opportunity of carrying more cargo with an acceptable—I assume—increase in risk of making the ship top heavy. A marvel of marine engineering then.

An example from a thirteenth-century painting of what is possibly an inland water boat with segai beams and boards. Note the seated figure beyond the gunwales. Illustration from Nihon no Fune (Ships and Boats of Japan) published by Fune no Kagaku-kan (Museum of Maritime Science, Tokyo) in 1977.

Examples of eave and first floor segai arrangements for a variety of different traditional building types. Illustration from Masters Degree Thesis on Segai, Bill Tingey 1980

If you should want to know more about the ships, there is a wealth of information on the Web. Search Kitamae ships.

10/07/2016

Kitamae Shipping—Two

Votive panel of a Kitamae ship at a Shrine in Fukura, on the western coast of the Noto Peninsula. By courtesy of Mr. Okizaki Photo © Copyright.

Compact and tidy

The success of the shipping route along the Japan Sea coast was a result of a number of advantages and disadvantages.

A glimpses at a map will verify that there are more than 20 main ports at which the Kitamae ships could call. Even for the larger ships there were safe havens that could be visited in times of need.

About 50 kilometres off the coast from the Noto Peninsula, for example, is Hegura island. It used to be inhabited throughout the year but now it is mostly a point of departure for the Ama free divers between July and April (See blog Ama—Free Divers 13/12/2015). In the days of the long-haul sea routes from Shimonoseki in Kyushu to ports in Hokkaido, the island provided a point of rest and a chance to replenish some supplies.

A shrine was built on the island with the idea of providing safe passage for the ships. Sometimes the Master of a newly built vessel would visit the shrine to pray for the safety of his ship.

The ships themselves were not particularly large, especially when compared to western vessels. Check the Japanese site:

https://nippon.zaidan.info/seikabutsu/2002/01046/contents/009.htm

simply to marvel at the compact nature of the design of the ships and the intelligent and careful planning of the way in which they were loaded. The list below tells you what each of the capital letters stands for in the cut-away drawing.

Outline of Cargo and how it was Stowed (Following Nippon Zaidan diagram key. Address above.)

Upper Level (Deck), Light Items

A Rope, matting, rice-straw bags, rowing equipment.

B Old clothing and light sundry items.

Middle Level

C Cotton, tobacco and similar goods.

D Paper and other sundry items.

E Bolts of cloth and similar items.

F Salt, sugar and grains.

G Rice.

Lower Level—Heavy items stowed low down in the hull to lower the centre of gravity of the ship.

H Vinegar, shoyu (soya), miso, oil and similar items.

I Ceramic roof tiles.

J Polished stone fragments (from stone mirrors).

The diagram on this site is of a ship of 240 tons (1600 Koku in Japanese measures), with a crew of between 14 to 20. There was very little space for anything but the cargo. In fact the way in which the cargo was loaded is reminiscent of the modern Japanese approach to an industrial design problem—taking up as little space as possible in the most compact way. Crew? Well they must have found a corner to rest, sleep and eat. Modern health and safety laws would no doubt fail such a ship from the outset.

Votive panel of Kitamae ships riding a storm at a Shrine in Fukura, on the western coast of the Noto Peninsula. By courtesy of Mr. Okizaki Photo © Copyright.

04/07/2016

Kitamae Shipping

Unknown, Unappreciated

Without a moments hesitation, Mr Okizaki, whom I had only just met, climbed on to sofa opposite where I was sitting. He was anxious to show me the location of some of the important trading points where ships plying the Japan Sea called on their way to the northern island of Hokkaido.

Although I had noticed the map on the wall I had not fully appreciated that it was rather unusual. It was not Japan seen from the South. Instead it was Japan and a large part of the Asian continent seen from the North West and thus focused on the Japan Sea coastline.

Mr Okizaki, a director of a company supplying processed sea foods, had be recommended to me as a very knowledgable person on the subject of the Kitamae trading ships that cursed the Japan Sea coast up until the development of the telegraph and national railway system in the early part of the twentieth-century.

I had not really understood just how important shipping routes were to Japan in the past. I knew that major land routes such as the Tokaido, so interestingly portrayed by Utagawa Hiroshige, were used but they were not suited to the transportation of any goods in bulk, due to the often steep inclines and narrowness of the routes. And then there were the bands of marauding lord-less samurai, numerous check points and paperwork to be dealt with. too.

The rock out-crops just off shore made it impossible for a large ship to draw near to off load its cargo. It had to be done using a small boat that could navigate the narrow channels that were natural or manmade.

Although they had existed before it was not until the later part of the 19th century that the Kitamae shipping routes through the Japan Sea became especially developed. In fact, sea routes along the Pacific Coast as well as along the Japan Sea had existed since the Edo period, which began in the early part of 17th century.

Catch the fish, fillet the fish and dry the fish.

Goods passed from centres of production and/or consumption in and around the Kansai area focused on Osaka. Ships would navigate a way through the Inland Sea before making their way along the Japan Sea coast, stopping off to trade at places large and small on the way to Hokkaido. It was there that they would pick up marine products such as dried seaweed as well as timber.

Admittedly the Pacific coastal route to Hokkaido was also well used. It was, however, the Japan Sea route with its many trading points that became instrumental in the development of culture as well as trade along the seaboard, especially with the end of the feudal period in 1868. After this Japan’s industrial development was meteoric and saw the nation beginning to take its place on the world stage for the first time..

Until relatively recently, I really had not appreciated the importance of the Kitamae trading routes. So this is only the beginning of the story.