from Noto

26/11/2016

Two years, ninety-three posts and counting…

It is now just over two years since I started writing this blog. I would like to thank all of those who have been good enough to read it and sincerely hope that you have gained something from it, whether it be about Wajima and the Noto Peninsula or about Japan in general.

Having lived in the country for 24 years it is like a second home to me and actually I do not really know which to put first, England or Japan.

It therefore gives me a great thrill to be able to pass on what I have learned about my adopted second homeland. I hope, too, that my insights into the culture as a whole and in particular about the craft, history, architecture, climate and life style to be found in Japan and the Noto Peninsula have fostered a deeper understanding and interest in Japan and its people and culture.

To date there have been some 10,888 page views. Of course it is wonderful to have so many people taking the trouble to view the blog but it is quality rather than numbers I have been aiming for. Still, if nobody was reading it…..

So far readers who hail from 19 countries have accessed the blog. This has been partly due to readers sharing the posts on social media, for which I must be grateful.

Access has come from Japan, United States, Canada, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Netherlands, Switzerland, Romania, Ukraine, Russia, Australia, Argentina, India, Taiwan, Indonesia, Singapore, Brazil, Belarus. Inevitably many of the readers are from Japan and the UK.

I have every intention of continuing to write the blog and hope that there will continue to be people out there who are interested in reading it.

Many thanks to you all.

Bill Tingey

The newspaper clipping is from the Hokkoku Shinbun, written by Hiroyuki Kitayama for this regional newspaper published on 26th November, 2016

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.

16/11/2016

Haiku and Design

This natsume—a caddy for the finely ground powered green tea used at a tea ceremony—epitomises winter. Natsume by Mr. Wakashima who lives and works in Wajima.

Understanding the code

Can any parallels be drawn between haiku poetry and decorative motifs?

Haiku have become quite well known beyond the borders of Japan, either in translation or written as an English language from of poetry.

Simply speaking haiku is based on a sequence of five-seven-five syllables of the Japanese language. Although the subject matter is unlimited much of it comes from nature. What all haiku poems do is to encapsulate a juxtaposition of time and/or events. They may also deal with phenomena and common truths to form powerful imagined or remembered vignettes designed to awaken the emotions of the reader in an almost predetermined way. That at least is my understanding of what haiku is. But that is not all.

I see haiku as being written in a kind of code. And, just like the dots and dashes of Morse, the code needs to be understood by both transmitter and receiver, or in the case of haiku by the writer and the reader to realise its full potential. Some people will dispute this idea I feel sure but it works for me.

Let us say, for example, that a haiku is about a hot, humid evening just after the sun has gone down. A small bat bursts from its day-time roost to be silhouetted agains the glowing limpid sky, still radiant with light and the colour of pale pink coral. The setting is, of course, in Japan. Having experienced many evenings like this I would find any haiku extolling such a moment especially touching. The memory of such an evening as a total bodily experience—the temperature, the level of humidity, the smell on the warm air, the stillness, the colours and many other things—would all serve to enhance my understanding of the haiku.

Having lived in Japan, a haiku based on these conditions would seem very real and plausible. But could it really strike a chord with someone living in a hot dry climate in the Middle East, for instance. Reading such a haiku would no doubt resonate with them but surely there would always be something lacking—they would not have the benefit and pleasure of being fully acquainted with the circumstances or the intricacies of what is suggested and no experience of the real situation.

But the question is, could a piece of design or a decorative motif have a similar effect? Is there a similar kind of message in code?

This natsume—a caddy for the finely ground powered green tea used at a tea ceremony—epitomises winter. Despite being an abstract motif, the spiral represents wind—a rough one—and the graded, roughly rendered and restrained dull red spiral on a dark background stirs feelings of anxiety. There is a feeling gloominess—a leaden sky, heavy with snow, like those that sweep in across the Japan Sea in winter to assail the Noto Peninsula where its creator, Mr. Wakashima lives and works.

For me, this decorative effect is as brief as a haiku and yet carries a powerful message, all be it in a kind of “code”. But what would it mean to me if I had never lived in Japan, if I had never encountered such a day to tease and stimulate all my senses, and if I were not able to recall as a total bodily experience the reality of such and event?

So, if haiku can be seen as a code, why not decorative effects.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

09/11/2016

Ceramic Roof Tiles Two—In Noto

In bright June sunshine, the roofs of the buildings of this small farming complex shimmer. In the winter the glass-like surface will cause settled snow to slip off.

Toward Black

Historically the burning of kindling with which to cook or to heat bath water always heightened the risk of fire breaking out in Japan’s communities both large and small.

Imagine what could happen when an earthquake struck just as food was being cooked over a naked flame. Constructed of combustable materials, the collapse of a timber building could easily seed a massive fire. The wind could then fan the flames and in no time at all the sparks would fly.

Although far less vulnerable than reed thatch, boards of wood or roofing shingles were an improvement but what was really needed was a non-flammable roofing material.

For a long time, however, tiles were more than common folk could afford. While the aesthetic value of ceramic roof tiles should not be overlooked, they have helped inhibit the spread of fire for centuries. They have also provided a sense of secure shelter. To do that their durability, too, has always been important.

This was a major consideration in the Hokuriku region of which the Noto Peninsula is part. Tiles made their first appearance here during the seventh-century on Buddhist structures.

They were, however, only biscuit fired and not glazed with a hard finish and were not therefore particularly durable. Difficulties with production and problems sourcing sufficient amounts of wood to fire the kilns contributed to a decline in their use.

The gate at Agishi-honseiji temple is tiled with reddish brown tiles. They were one step in the development of a shinny, hard-wearing tile.

By the beginning of the sixteenth-century basic glazes made from ground up minerals mixed with water were a step in the right direction—more durability was the result. Subsequently a much more hard-wearing reddish brown tile was produced by adding iron oxide to the clay. Local Noto clay was not suitable however, as it contained pumice.

Why was a more suitable clay not imported into the area? The mere idea of transporting either the raw materials or the finished article was unthinkable at the time.

Consequently it was not until the end of the nineteenth-century that a more appropriate glaze containing manganese was used and a double firing technique was employed to produce a hard-wearing roof tile of real quality. The result was a tile that was robust and durable and more suited the requirements of the region.

The manganese in the glaze produced a shinny, reflective glass-like coating very similar to the tiles which are being produced today. An assured durability was not their only asset.

During the 1920s these lustrous black tiles were being sold in Kanazawa and as far away as Nagoya in central Japan. By then transportation was so much easier.

The glossy black finish may not have been to everyone’s taste but their reputation soon spread to other regions of Japan where, like Noto, it was winter’s cold and heavy falls of snow that needed confronting. Simply speaking the bonus was that snow soon slid off a black shinny roof.

Here too the roofs reflect the sunlight, which is reflected by the water in the newly irrigated paddy. The regularity of the recently planted rice plants is matched by the methodical way in which the grass has been cut. So much of the farming in Japan is orderly and tidy. Surely it has contributed to the way so many Japanese people lead their lives.

The black mirror finish of the roofs of the vernacular architecture of the Noto Peninsula is as distinctive as the lustre of Wajima lacquerware—both treasures in their own right.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

I am most grateful to Michihiro Ura from the Department of Culture in the Wajima City Board of Education for providing detailed informaion on Noto’s black tiles.

02/11/2016

Ceramic Roof Tiles One

As the status of merchants rose during the Edo period (1600-1868), they expressed their wealth in the way their store-cum-dwelling was adorned. Exaggeration of roof ridges and gable ends was common.

When fires bloomed

Recently a devastating fire in the city of Exeter in southwest England has once again highlighted just how dangerous a conflagration can be even today, especially in a built up area and more significantly, in a seat of history.

(http://www.exeterexpressandecho.co.uk/why-the-royal-clarence-hotel-fire-hasn-t-yet-been-announced-as-extinguished/story-29855973-detail/story.html)

Although not the source of the fire, the Royal Clarence Hotel has been gutted. With so much wood used in its construction, this 300-year-old structure has become a shell, which may never rise from the ashes.

Historically fires have always been a problem in urban areas in Japan, nowhere more so than in Edo, as Tokyo was called before 1868.

Walls of merchant stores in particular were protected from both the weather and fire. Here the lower tiles are permanent protection against both. The hung wooden “shuttering” above, however, is added protection of the more or less fireproof plastered wall behind. This shuttering would be easily removed should a fire break out near by.

Records held by the nation’s fire department show that fires were a constant threat to the city especially during the winter months when the air was dry and any fire could be whipped up by the seasonal winds that encourage dusty swirls across farmland and rattle the shutters of many of the traditional timber built houses and commercial properties that still stand in secluded corners of the capital to this day.

In 1609 the population of Edo was 160,000 meaning that the chance of loss of life was high if any fire was allowed to get out of hand. However, that threat increased dramatically as the population swelled. By 1693 a census recorded 353,500 people lived in this capital of wood.

The city had an organised network of fire-fighting groups and the introduction of a basic pumping engine invented in 1754 in Nagasaki must surely have helped. It was charmingly called a “water spewing dragon”, Ryudosui (http://www.gakken.co.jp/kagakusouken/spread/oedo/06/haiken1.html).

Sadly, however, fires still raged, so often fanned by wind or exacerbated by the almost exclusive use of timber and paper to build temples, shops and homes as well as castles. Not even Edo castle, the seat of the Shogun, was spared, although luckily damage at the time was minimal. Now there are only remnants of what was once the largest castle in the world.

It is common for roof tiles on traditional buildings up and down Japan have a silver luster. A coating of mica before the second firing of the tiles gives them this distinctive appearance.

The risk of fire and the spread of flame was of course recognised. In 1601 an effort was made to reduce the chance of fire spreading. A directive was issued to replace any thatched roofs with far less inflammable wooden boards or shingles. This would certainly have helped. However, records on fire prevention during the period between 1600 and 1867 make no direct mention of a compulsory use of roof tiles. Use of ceramic roof tiles by the “common people” was, however, first allowed in 1720. This would suggest that it was more important to shackle the less well off than it was to prevent the spread of fire.

Inevitably temples, castles and houses of the wealthy would have been the first to use ceramic roof tiles, although in rural areas reed thatch was the norm and persists today on some traditional farmhouses.

Although such buildings have disappeared from Tokyo’s streets, storehouse “fire bunkers” like this one in the City of Kawagoe represents how merchants protected their wealth—tiled roofs, plastered walls and interlocking shutters at windows all designed to keep fire out.

Fires were known as the “flowers of Edo”. During the period between 1600 and 1867 there were upward of 550, some causing considerable loss of live and property (Edo Kasai-shi 江戸火災史 A History of Fires in Edo published by Tokyo Horei Shuppan in 1975).

The towns and villages of the Noto Peninsula did not escape damage by fire either. Nevertheless, it was the severity of the climate in the region that saw a development in ceramic roof tiles. More about this next time.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

25/10/2016

Wajima Kirimoto Woodcraft Workshop

True lacquer finished counters in the Hilton Tokyo Chocolate Boutique.

New applications

Of all the workshops in Wajima, the Wajima Kirimoto Woodcraft Workshop is somewhat different.

An assortment of mini-pull planes close at hand on the workshop floor.

Firstly, the workshop does not exclusively produce lacquerware items. The majority of workshops in the city do—they apply true lacquer to a wooden core commissioned from a supplier. So just as the name suggests, being a supplier of wooden cores for bowls, dishes and other household items is just part of the work carried out in Tai’ichi’s workshop, which also produces its own lacquerware items.

Stacked cedar food boxes with a simple detail await completion—they almost resemble a modernist piece of architecture.

Tai’ichi Kirimoto is the Managing Director. He is a bit different too. He studied design at university and then after graduation he worked for Kokuyo, a large stationery goods producer.

Delicate work with hand, eye and

sharp chisel.

So strictly speaking Tai’ichi is not a “craftsman”. Nevertheless, we could say that woodcraft is in his blood.

Both his father and grandfather before him fostered the development of the workshop, which Tai’ichi now runs, and he too is anxious to see the company grow and expand into new areas of endeavour. “True lacquer is not just a material of tradition” could almost be his motto.

He is different in another way too. Most workshop owners have a strong character and Tai’ichi is no exception. But he is also bursting with energy and enthusiasm, a real dynamo. This is clearly something which helps to drive the company forward.

Under his guidance the workshop is producing a very robust lacquerware—a metal spoon can be used without fear of damaging the lacquer.

While Wajima lacquerware has a reputation for being robust it is not really suitable for use with a knife and fork. This inevitably limits its use to serving Japanese foods eaten with chopsticks or a lacquered wooden or bamboo spoons.

Just a small part of a collection of samples which can be made by the workshop.

So in order to make the final finish even more hard-wearing, Tai’ichi pioneered a finish using powdered diatomaceous earth, which is usually used for the ground of lacquerware.

Looking like pencils, chopsticks are coated with true lacquer before the pointed end in pushed into a board ready for them to go into a curing cabinet.

Even more unusual is the way that Tai’ichi has been able to introduce the use of true lacquer to finish interior items or for decorative purposes in a retail setting. Working closely with architects and interior designers the workshop as a whole and especially its resident lacquer artisans have perfected a finish using a cloth soaked in true lacquer for counters. The resulting textured surface is both characterful, sturdy and long-lasting.

Ritz Carlton Kyoto Sushi Bar—hard-wearing counter of cloth

finished with true lacquer.

Used decoratively, the true lacquer finished backdrop to the customer counter at the Takaoka eatery.

This kind of specialised work goes on alongside of the regular production of wonderfully crafted pieces of woodwork, some to be lacquered and others to be nothing more or less than expressive of the beauty of wood.

Courtesy of Tai'ichi Kirimoto

A visit to the workshop is simple proof of just how simulating an environment there is at Wajima Kirimoto Woodcraft. Nevertheless, there would not be such a vital atmosphere if it were not for Tai’ichi Kirimoto—a powerhouse of professionalism and energy topped off with a dash of humour. Surely the perfect leader.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

13/10/2016

2016 Snapshot 18 Learning from the Ancients

Tai’ichi Kirimoto is the third generation of his family to be managing the Wajima Kirimoto Woodcraft Workshop, which specialises in the making of items primarily for the true lacquer market.

What he his holding is rather special. It is a replica of a dish from the Shoso-in Repository (http://www.kunaicho.go.jp/e-about/shisetsu/shosoin01.html) in Nara, south of Kyoto. An original example known as a “lacquered flower-shaped dish” (serving tray) may have been made in the eight-century or later.

The repository itself is of considerable architectural value and interest. The items it has protected for centuries, however, are of inestimable value, not simply because of their age but also because of their artistry and the craftsmanship which they demonstrate. Many of the items are from foreign climes.

Items like this tray were deposited by local authorities in payment of taxes, while the original use of the building was, simply speaking, as a “warehouse” for rice.

So why was this replica made at Tai’ichi’s workshop? He feels it is important that the craftsmen and women on the staff try and make things they have never made before simple as a challenge—in this case can those working today learn something from the ancients?

In fact Tai’ichi even encourages staff to contribute to the making of items for projects which are often design lead and a collaboration between himself as a trained designer, a client and specific members of the workforce. This kind of approach has taken the company into new and exciting fields for the use of wood and true lacquer. Tai’ichi and the company as a whole are held in high regard by many of the artisans in Wajima, itself a hub of creative energy in the field of true lacquerware for centuries.

So, what else has the workshop been involved in? More next time.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

01/10/2016

2016 Snapshot 17 A Lexicon of Finishes

At Sojiji Temple in Monzen, there are some intriguing architectural features. The main buildings are still under repair, having suffered damage in the earthquake of 2007. In the temple grounds, however, there is almost a complete textbook of traditional wall finishes—stone arranged in both formal and informal patterns, plastered walls and timber weather boarding. All these finishes can be found all over Japan. They come in a myriad of combinations. They are so appealing, so inspiring and a testament to those who devised them and to those who so skilfully put them in place.

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

23/09/2016

Exhibition Notice

Japan Encapsulated

Lacquerwork produced by Takashi Wakamiya and his band of skilled craftspeople working under the name Hikoju Makie, will be exhibited at the Taipei Mayor’s Residence Art Salon between Friday 30th September and Saturday 15th October. The Salon is open between 10 am and 6 pm. For further information on the location and other details please access the site for the Mayor’s Residence at http://www.mayorsalon.tw/ in Chinese and English.

The work on show is highly representative of Japan and all carried out using true lacquer while drawing on the skills of the Hikoju Makie craftspeople lead by Takashi. Examples of the exhibits can be seen at the address below with Chinese explanation only.

http://www.mayorsalon.tw/Exhibitions/Details?id=cf64ecc6-d3eb-4985-abc8-120edccc0fdf

「彦十蒔絵・若宮隆志藝展　　當代日本漆藝」

期間：2016年9月30日(Fri.)~2016年10月15日（Sat.) 10:00-18:00

場所：http://www.mayorsalon.tw/

台湾台北の市長官邸藝文沙龍(The Mayor's Residence Art Salon)において台湾で初めての彦十蒔絵展を開催する事となりました。日本を象徴する漆芸作品を通して台湾の皆様と相互理解が得られる事を心より願っております。

こちらのURLはこの展覧会の写真と中国語紹介となります。
http://www.mayorsalon.tw/Exhibitions/Details?id=cf64ecc6-d3eb-4985-abc8-120edccc0fdf

17/09/2016

2016 Snapshot 16 Simple and Plain

Kunikatsu Seto’s Gallery

One of the twentieth century’s most important building materials is without doubt concrete. It has a long history but it was not until the modern period that concrete as a major construction material came into its own. Unfinished or “fair faced concrete” found particular favour in Japan. Above the 1964 Tokyo Olympic pool and basket ball stadium designed by Kenzo Tange are particularly good examples of this building technique. Since their construction, however, the buildings have needed repair as the reinforcing steel-work has become exposed. The cause is thought to be too much salt in the sand for the concrete mix, which may have been a result of too much haste in construction.

Here in Wajima fair faced concrete has been paired with timber weather boarding. The composition is simple and plain and the finish of the interior is the same. As a backdrop for the inspirational lacquerwork of Kunikatsu Seto it could not be better (from Noto 16/01/2016 On Two Fronts, 07/07/2015 Inspired). Natural wood, fair faced concrete—both are respected in Japan for what they are. Materials with their own beauty and appeal.

Kunikatsu’s work can be seen at http://www.seto-kunikatsu.com

Bill Tingey Photo © Copyright

10/09/2016

Hello Kitty!?

Cute is cute, is cute

It must come as a bit of a surprise to be confronted by Hello Kitty on this blog. Nevertheless, here she is. Three of them in fact! They are the work of Takashi Wakamiya and his organisation Hikoju Makie. Hello Kitty is rendered as a netsuke in true lacquer.

The Net informs me that the Hello Kitty character was created by Yuko Shimizu and is produced by the large Japanese toy and novelity goods company Sanrio. The character is now designed by Yuko Yamaguchi.

These interpretations of the character represent some of Takashi’s most recent work.

The seated figure measures 40x32x23mm. The standing ones are 42x32x23mm.

Takashi’s work with Hikoju Makie is also featured on this blog in the post Hitting the Spot—Takashi Wakamiya, dated 10th February 2015.

But why Hello Kitty? Takashi was anxious to bring the art and craft of lacquerware to the attention of younger people, who these days may not knowingly have come into contact with items using the refined sap of the lacquer tree.

For those who have never handled a piece of lacquerware, I can only assure you that these figurines will have a touch and warmth completely unlike that of plastic. Their presence too will be made all the more significant by the delicacy of the decoration.

As a figure owned by Sanrio, Takashi negotiated with the company for more than two years to obtain a licence to create these figures, which as Takashi so rightly says are so representative of Japan’s soft culture with an unrivalled cute or distinctively Japanese kawaii appeal.

Hello Kitty is known across the world and ranks along side Doraemon, Pokemon and characters from the Studio Ghibli animation series of movies. There are a host of others which are not so well known but all of them have the same gentle appealing character, which is a hit with adults as much as children.

Before you start to save enough to buy one of these Hello Kitty figures, I must disappoint you. Only three were made. Earlier this year, they were exhibited at the Isetan Department Store in Shinjuku—one of Tokyo’s main downtown areas—and were bought by a collector of Takashi’s work. Hello Kitty—a true ambassador of kawaii!

彦十蒔絵 Hikoju Makie

若宮隆志 Takashi Wakamiya

Website: wakamiya-takashi.com

Address: 1-188, Kekachidaira-machi,

Wajima-shi, Ishikawa, Japan 928-0093

Tel.+81-768-22-8601 FAX. +81-768-22-8651

05/09/2016

Exhibition Notice September

Lacquerware Exhibit: Work by Kazutaka Furukomi

One of the younger members of the Wajima Lacquer Study Group, Kazutaka Furukomi will be having an exhibition of his work at the Mitsukoshi Department Store in Nagoya from September 14th to 20th. The exhibit will be held in the Japanesque Gallery on the eight floor and open from 10am to 7:30pm.

Mitsukoshi Department Store, 3−5−1 Sakae, Naka Ward, Nagoya, ichi Prefecture, 〒460-8669 Tele: +81 52-252-1111

More of Kazutaka’s work is featured in this blog in posts on 18th June 2015 and 3 December 2015.

古込和孝氏展示会のお知らせ

漆芸展

2016年9月14日（水)～20日（火）

名古屋三越栄店　8階　ジャパネスクギャラリー

ＡＭ10：00～ＰＭ7：30

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.

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