March 16 - 17 (same day, really!)
Left at 4:00 a.m.! Barely 1/2 hour to O’Hare, and the driver wasn’t even speeding. That must be a first. Bags were checked through to Narita. The flight from Dulles to Narita was very long, but there was a vacant seat next to me so I could spread out a bit, which helped. I completely forgot to take the homeopathic jet lag pills (though as it turned out, I didn’t have a problem). The food on the flight was decent, and they came around several times with beverages. I also had my huge bottle of water. The transfer from Narita to Haneda was easy, but Haneda was a bit more complicated as, being a local airport, there were few signs in English. However, I managed all right. Nancy and Kayoko met us at Kochi; “us”, because it turned out that everyone but Rob (who arrived later that day) and Sigrid (who had arrived with Nancy) was on the same flight. We all managed to get in the van, which will be our transport here. The hotel room (western-style) was fairly plain, but we weren’t in them much anyway, and the bed was comfortable. We went next door for dinner to an izakaya, a place where we ordered a variety of things to share (actually, we let Kayoko and Nancy order). Then to bed.
March 18I slept well, and was up early to a buffet breakfast, both Japanese and western food available. Not being a big breakfast eater to begin with, I basically had fruit and miso soup. We had the day free, so I hooked up with Susan and Barbara and we went exploring. First to the “Thursday Market” . It’s mostly fruits, vegetables and flowers, but also some fish vendors, and one person selling knives. Barbara bought one in the shape of a whale for her daughter who is a marine biologist, and with whom she went whale-watching.
We then went to Kochi Castle. It’s on an eminence, naturally, and you can really see from there how Kochi is surrounded by mountains. The Castle is on several levels, and as you proceed up, you can tell how it was designed to protect against attack. The stairs to the upper levels are steep and tall, with low beams over them. The doors are heavy and off-set, so an enemy entering one door would have to move to the side to enter the next. The gardens are lovely, and were being readied for the Cherry Blossom Festival, lanterns being put in place, etc.
Nancy had suggested a textile shop, which we found, but which was very expensive, so we passed on buying anything. We did, however, go to a 100-yen store, similar to our dollar stores. I found some adorable little wooden kitchen gadgets (a “dressing muddler”, a butter knife, and a tea scoop, as well as a large bamboo chopstick rest) and pink, “Hello Kitty” chopsticks for Stacey.
We tried to go to the Botanic Gardens to see the textile exhibit, but discovered that there is no public transportation there (there had been a bus, but not any more), and we weren’t ready to contend with a cab, so we went to the
MUSEUM OF ART instead. (As it turned out, we made a wise decision; Nancy went and told us that it was very hard to find the building with the exhibit, and she speaks Japanese.) The tram ride was interesting. There was one woman in traditional dress who helped us with our stop, and another young woman was apparently dressed for an event, in a lovely pink silk
haori, and what looked like
hakame.
The Museum is not near much. The area has what looks like light industry and apartments. The building looks fairly new, and is beautifully designed. You enter through a covered pathway over water (there is an exhibit on one side of panels depicting facial features floated in the water), and inside there is another large pond, surrounded by a colonnade. It has a stone path in it leading to a platform (for performances?). There is a gallery above with artful stone and wood stools to sit on. The whole building is very light and airy.
Unfortunately, most of the galleries were having a calligraphy show installed, so we just saw the permanent Chagall collection. Then we had tea and ice cream in the restaurant. For some reason, the headings of the menu were in English, while the menu itself was, naturally, in Japanese. We asked if anyone spoke English, and a young man came out from the kitchen. (We thought he said he was from Chile, though he looked East Asian). His English wasn’t very good, but he said he also spoke Italian, so I had a conversation in Italian with him! How unexpected!
Dinner at a restaurant called Ginon - well, a banquet! A multitude of courses. The local specialty is a fish called katsuo, a type of bonito. It was melt-in-your-mouth tender, and delicious. We had sushi, sashimi, tempura, rice, etc. We were joined by papermakers, and people from the Paper Technology Center, which we will be visiting tomorrow.
March 19 We first visited the Shiotas, who are materials handlers (kozo, gampi, matsumata). The business was established 130 years ago, and the house is 100 years old. The owner is known as Togemura, in the tradition of the eldest son, or inheritor, inheriting the given name of his predecessor upon becoming the head of the firm.
Then we went to see Mr. Yamamoto, who makes screens for papermaking. His workshop is attached to his home, which I will discover is common. He is very well-known, and has taught in Bhutan, and is shortly to teach Uzbekis. He is a second generation screen-maker, and works in bamboo and reed. He is 75 years old, but says that he enjoys his work and has a good friend for company (his cat, Tamasaburo, named for a famous kabuki actor). He still does everything from going to the mountains to harvest the bamboo, to making his own nails.
Mary was very brave, and at his invitation took a try at weaving the screen.
PAPER TECHNOLOGY CENTER - Kochi Another beautiful building, modern, reminding me of Dorothy L. Sayers’ description of her invented Shrewsbury College - “stretching out reconciling hands to past and present”. We were met in a conference room by Mr. Okawa (whom we had met at dinner last night), and he told us a bit about the center, about paper, and gave us some written materials. The center has been in its current building for 8 years, but was founded nearly 100 years ago. We went to his lab, and got to look at things under a microscope, including paper from a 1,250 year-old scroll, and a bit of a print of Hiroshige (and we each could take a tiny piece for a souvenir!). He showed us the rice powder mixed with the paper (Rembrandt used this - must go back to the exhibit!); this makes the paper opaque and whiter, so it shows the colors better. It also prevents shrinking and expanding, which is good for printmaking. But it is important, therefore, not to use water or heat in conservation work.
After a nice bento box lunch, which included a local type of grapefruit from Mr. Ebuchi’s yard (Ebuchi-san was at dinner last night, and we have nicknamed him sake-man, for obvious reasons), we had a tour of the facility.
Next to Kanetoshi Osaki’s, a gampi-tissue maker. Nowadays, he doesn’t make the paper himself, but has an apprentice (a good thing!). Then a visit to Sajio Hamada, a National Living Treasure (or, as it says on his business card, an “Important Intangible Cultural Asset” ); we got to watch him make paper, and a couple tried their hands at it. He makes it look so easy! He gave us some of his paper!! How can I use paper made by him? I have to save it!
Ick - while we were here, I reached the end of a roll of film and it tore while I was rewinding it! ALL my photos of the Technology Center, and some of Mr. Hamada and some of Mr. Yamamoto.
Our last visit of the day was to Kashiki Seishi, a manufacturer of fine machine made paper that is used in conservation. After viewing their facilities, we went up to their showroom. Not only did we see some amazingly beautiful uses of the paper, we saw many things made of
shifu, which is woven
washi(sometimes all-washi, sometimes woven with cotton or silk), really strong and beautiful. It must be handspun and woven, though I think if someone could develop a way to do it on machine, it would be great for sheers or table linens. Mrs. Kayoko Hamada (no relation), who is the president of the company, joined us for oranges, tea and pastry. (The Japanese are incredibly hospitable; it was a rare home or business that did not offer us at least a cup of tea, and many gave us gifts as well.) She is a very interesting woman, leading a company in a very male-dominated business climate; she told us that she often has problems dealing with banks, for instance.
Our hotel is at Kogeimura, or
TOSA WASHI VILLAGE. This is an unusual complex. There is a rather classy hotel and restaurant (Cour aux Dons, which means nothing, but sounds impressive), a papermaking school, and a garden center, run by a local agricultural co-operative. The rooms are Japanese-style, with futons, tatami mats, and a viewing area (a small space, separated from the sleeping space by shoji doors, furnished with a small table and chairs, from which one views the outdoors). Also a small balcony. Another amazing dinner at the hotel restaurant. The food is what would be called “fusion” here, Japanese food with a French twist (no, not the hairdo, silly!). Again, a multiplicity of courses (this we’ll find to be the usual way), tasty, with a keen eye for presentation. I had noticed an ice cream vending machine wth Haagen-Dasz green tea ice cream, and intended to try it, but we had way too much to eat at dinner!
Joining us in Kochi is Kayoko’s brother, Takao. His English is really fluent - he spent some time in Canada specifically to learn it. Kayoko’s is excellent as well, and she is acting as our interpreter when necessary. She’s an interesting young woman, herself. Her family has been dealing in paper for some time, and she is very involved in the company (Nancy works with her in finding product for her store). At 35 (she doesn’t look it at all), she is still unmarried, which is unusual for Japan. Very pretty, small like most Japanese women, very much at ease with all of us and those we are dealing with.
March 20 Breakfast was Japanese, very good, though not, of course, what we’re used to. They do not differentiate, in terms of what they eat, between meals.
We visited the Osaki family today, Shigeru, Fumiko and Akari, three generations of papermakers, not to mention the dog, Kenta. They live up a mountain, in Agawa-mura (Agawa village), what a lovely place to work! They use
kozo, steaming it, cleaning it, and soaking it in a pool outside. It is the pure, clean water up in the mountains that is paramount in making this fine paper. Fumiko, Akari’s mother, does most of the sheet-formation, though Akari is learning. (Akari has two sisters, neither of whom is interested in papermaking.) They both did some while we were there, and it was interesting to see the different techniques. They can tell who formed which sheets; I’m sure we couldn’t! The paper is dried in a shed further up the mountain, with a steep, winding trail up to it. I wondered, as we walked up, how they got the wet paper up there. It turns out they have a pulley system; the paper is hauled up the mountain on a board! When the girls were young, we were told, they liked to ride up the mountain on the pulley, too.
Here is where I began to think my camera was cursed. The battery died. Later, we tried to find one, but it is the vernal equinox, a national holiday here, so few stores were open and the one we tried didn’t have the right kind.
In the afternoon, we went to a sake manufacturer, another industry that needs good water for a good product. We were too late in the season for a tour (which turned out to be a good thing), but saw a video about the process, and had a “shopping opportunity”, though I didn’t get anything. As we left, they gave each of us a sake cup.
The reason it was a good thing that we didn’t have a tour is that it left us enough time to visit an antique shop recommended by Mr. Okawa (who was accompanying us). Like antique shops all over the world, it was a warren of rooms, with lots of dust, and nooks and crannies filled with junque and treasures. I bought a scroll, a woman in a kimono with a cat lying on the hem (9,000 yen, down from 10,000, thanks to Mr. Okawa).
Then to the
PAPER MUSEUM. It’s not huge, but has three rooms devoted to the history and process of papermaking, and a place for kids to try their hand at it. Also a store, where I did some serious shopping. When we were at the Osaki’s, Mr. Osaki showed us a book of photographs taken there; I bought two copies, one for me and one for Bill Drendel. I also found gifts for the XYZingers (small receipt books, all with different papers) , a
shifu washcloth (highly recommended by Nancy), and, of course, paper.
Back at Kogeimura, we made paper. The system used in Japan has the screen controlled by a system of bamboo rods and cords which makes controlling it much easier. ( Kind of hard to describe, but there's a
picture here. There was also a shop there, though the only thing I bought was directly from the maker, who was working in the studio.
March 21
Even further up the mountains, to visit the Yoshioka’s, Futoshi and Noriko and their two little kids. He is a papermaker and she is a dyer, who met at Kogeimura. They are living in the traditional way, in a rented 100-year-old home that was not in very good shape when they first moved there, but which they are fixing up, doing all the work themselves. They have a central hearth, called an irori, with a wood stove. Like the Osaki’s, they are basically self-sufficient, growing their own food and buying only meat and fish. Futoshi showed us the piece of land that he is going to turn into a rice field (they gave us a packet of their rice, beautifully wrapped in their own paper, I may not be able to bear opening it; perhaps use it as a light weight?). They also grow their own tea; we had some, along with a dumpling filled with mountain potato and sticky rice, served on a camellia leaf (functional as well as decorative, the camellia leaves prevent the dumpling from sticking to the steamer) and some of the most delicious strawberries. They use only natural materials for their dyes. While we were there, Futoshi was boiling up some cedar shavings, and they also use clay from the mountain for dye. They use different formation aids depending on the growing season, so as to avoid the use of preservatives. (Purchased some of their paper. A long piece of persimmon-dyed, shibori paper, which I may wear as a scarf, as well as some clay-dyed paper (intended for my holiday party invitations) and another piece with rice inclusions.
The family joined us for lunch at a place called Hana’s. There it is, a little building next to a mountain road in Japan, serving pizza, pasta and curry! Good, too. Those who ordered coffee had it served in very elegant fine china, what we westerners would call tea cups. Then to the Sunday market in Kochi, which was fun, though I was restrained and only bought some indigo coasters as a birthday gift for Cheryl. While we were shopping, Takao tried to find a battery for me. Three strikes - apparently it’s because it’s an old kind (well, the camera is around 25 years old). I decided to buy a disposable in Kyoto and hunt there for a battery (of which, more anon).
After that we went to the home/studio of Sachi Yokoyama, a momigami maker. She’s an utterly charming young woman, with an infectious smile, who lives in a beautiful, traditional Japanese home. She taught herself the techniques, and invented a few of her own. There are seven different ways to crease the paper for different patterns. Her base is kozo paper, to which she applies pigments (she generally uses earth pigments, sometimes adding a bit of sumi ink, to “calm” the colors) mixed with fumori (seaweed paste). Traditionally, momigami would have one color of pigment on the paper; however, after drying the paper one or two days, she applies a second color, and often does so unevenly. When the paper is wrinkled, the next level of color appears. The first color is applied with the paper grain, the second against the grain.
Because the momigami is used for scroll mounting, she ages the paste in order to obtain a high acidity level, to prevent mold. This seems counter to what we always learn! But in fact the paper used has a high clay content, and therefore a high alkaline level, thus balancing the acidity. To age the paste, she cooks it at the coldest time of year, covers with water, then a lid and stores it (under the tatami). After one year, she takes it out, removes the layer of mold that has formed, changes the water, and puts it back in storage. This process is repeated every year. She is currently using 10-year-old paste.
We were at a new hotel in Kochi, the Kichiman. Again, Japanese style rooms. Even though we are in the middle of the city, hard by Kochi railroad station, there was a small balcony with a garden. Lovely. Couldn’t believe dinner (excuse me, banquet)! Piles of sushi and tempura, the usual miso, rice, soup, udon with fish and shrimp, fish steamed at the table, and on and on. We were entertained by a hostess in an “almost-but-not-quite” geisha fashion, though it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she had trained as a geisha. She had changed into a lovely pale green kimono with a pattern of reeds or grasses at the hem, and the obi had large, stylized flowers. There was laughing, singing and dancing (joined in by the two servers, and a couple of our group). The Japanese toast is “kampai!”, but beware of “Hempai!”. This is a drinking game. The hostess pours you a drink, which you knock back, you pour her one, etc., etc. (Our hostess must have an extremely good head!) She dubbed Susan a “strong drinker”, which apparently came as a surprise to Susan.
After we ate, Kayoko joined us, along with Michael Kahn, an American who lives here and his friend who is a charcoal maker. Kahn had made a documentary of the Osaki’s visit to the Inuit (who use their paper in printmaking), called “Threads that Connect Us”. It’s 90 minutes, so we didn’t watch the whole thing, just selections. It was fascinating, especially the striking physical resemblance between the Osaki’s and the Inuit, and their similar diets (each enjoyed the others traditional foods). It’s a good film, but needs some editing. If he can get it down to under an hour, there’s a better chance at getting it on CBC (maybe PBS, too?). He then showed us a 3 minute film he made about his house, centering on the irori, as both a literal and figurative gathering place for telling and listening to stories. He is collecting oral histories of the older people in the village where he lives (very traditionally), called Mirror Village, after the river on which it is situated.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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