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When Westerners
think of Japan, they often will conceive of one of the world's most
modern societies with huge metropolises, sushi, ninja computer
games, and factories churning out state-of-the-art automobiles and
cameras. Knowledge of Japanese history tends to be confined to
Kurosawa's The Seven Samurai and Richard Chamberlain starring in
Shogun, the mini-series. This abbreviation is profoundly unworthy
for this most fascinating and complex culture which has existed in a
continuum for thousands of years. We must fight sloppy thinking of
stereotypes with true understanding.
Art has always been the primary vehicle for the transmission of
culture in traditional societies. It is, therefore, through the
appreciation of Japanese art that we of the West can expand our
awareness of contemporary Japanese identity. We become personally
enriched with exposure to the underlying spiritual and intellectual
themes which permeate Japanese aesthetic philosophy.
Conscious pursuit of this goal can be a daunting task. Where is one
to begin? Every category of Japanese artistic expression is worthy
of exploration. Ideally, living in Japan for an extended time offers
the greatest opportunity to get to know temples, shrines, and
gardens. Short of that, and fortunate for us, we have the Asian Art
Museum of San Francisco, soon to reopen. There, one may have the
pleasure and the privilege of viewing subtle masterpieces including
ancient archeology, early Buddhist sculpture, Samurai swords, and
calligraphy. A seminal exhibition on Japanese folk craft about a
decade ago at The Asian helped visitors to appreciate the far less
familiar arts and crafts traditions of common people, such as
farmers and fishermen.

The exhibition explained the philosophy of Soetsu
Yanagi who conceptualized the term Mingei (folk art). In his book,
The Unknown Craftsman, he celebrates objects in daily use whose form
was shaped by practical function and materials available. He gives
voice to the underlying spiritual nature of traditional craft,
pointing out that the anonymous artisan so often achieved a kind of
un self-consciousness or perfection in his or her work, analogous to
the ego-less Buddha. In this manner, we can recognize the nobility
of folk art, which must take its rightful place in relation to the
more classical Japanese art disciplines.
While that presentation was a reasonably thorough survey of Mingei,
space did not permit the inclusion of many textiles. This necessary
omission provoked curiosity within the Bay Area community about the
breadth of creative expressions found in Japanese folk textiles; I
would like to thank Caskey-Lees for
their invitation for me to show my Japanese textile collection.
This, I hope, in its own admittedly limited way, will expand upon
that earlier museum effort and honor the 20 years I have been going
to, and learning from, Japan.
My own association with Japanese art and aesthetics began in earnest
with my arrival in 1982. I was invited to contribute Indonesian
tribal art and textiles in conjunction with a Tokyo "for sale"
exhibition on shamanism. I brought many things I thought would
appeal to the Japanese market. In short order, I discovered all of
my preconceptions of what they would like were ill-founded. At
first, I didn't sell a single piece. I recall the stinging rebuke,
"This is European taste, but we are Japanese, and therefore, we have
Japanese taste!" I was so depressed I felt like going home
immediately. But instead, through the persistent hospitality of
Japanese friends, I ended up staying a year. To afford this, it
pained me to sell my masterpieces at deep discounts to get enough
money to eat the cheap noodle soup available at stands under the
railways. But I learned.
I have returned
regularly ever since, each time with a sense of wonder at the deeper
beauty I have come to know, as Japan has "opened her kimono" to me,
so to speak. Throughout the years, I have collected costume and
textiles as a means of coming to understand what "Japanese taste"
really means. I have discovered that through this narrow aperture
one can develop a very broad view.
Mingei textiles are very collectible and have been so for a long
time. Therefore, availability has always been a problem. The pieces
that I show here reflect this difficulty in combination with
aesthetic choices made through a lens of personal subjectivity. This
collection is neither comprehensive in decorative techniques nor
exhaustive in sheer variety of possible types. However, it does
offer insight into the inspired works of the unknown craftsman. I
especially would like to encourage viewers to bear in mind Yanagi's
Mingei philosophy while looking at the textiles and try to see for
one's self the Buddha nature found therein. In the greater
Zen-sense, we examine the whole object, the material from which it
is made, the technique of it's patterning, and the origin of its
color. The Buddha is nowhere and everywhere, but especially in the
details.
Materials that
were worked with include natural fibers sourced from wild plants,
such as fuji (wisteria), kozo (paper mulberry), asa (ramie and
hemp), bashofu (banana leaf), and ohyo (elm bark). Cotton was
introduced from India in the 15th century and received wide-spread
acceptance because of its greater warmth and insulation. Silk was
normally restricted to the high castes, however broken and discarded
cocoons (known as tsumugi) were salvaged by commoners. Clothes were
used until they became rags, then rags were either rewoven (saki-ori)
or stitched together into yet more cloth, early recycling. Deer and
fish skin were also sometimes used. Unlike animal fiber protein, dye
does not take easily to plant fiber and, therefore, colors were
restricted. Indigo is a beloved color in Japanese custom and has the
added benefit of being resistant to insects. Walnut, oak, and
chestnut provided browns and grays. Red, yellow and black came from
natural pigments. Patterning techniques include the famous kasuri
(ikat)
which could be single or double and was introduced from SE Asia by
way of Okinawa. Batik-like norizome (rice paste-resist) could be
painted free-hand from a tube (tsutsugaki) or applied to the textile
through stencils, a technique known as katazome. Perhaps the most
spectacular example of this is bingata, the brilliant-colored
textiles of Okinawa. Embroidered quilting, known as sashiko,
contributes both beauty and strength to costume and textiles.
Shibori is the name of tie dye used to such great effect, with
patterns accomplished in tiny knots or big, bold ties creating
strong graphics. Finally, the Ainu of the far north are famous for
their appliqué and embroidered graphic designs on robes that are
known offer talismanic protection.
I hope this presentation stimulates interest in Japan, and her
textiles in particular. Collecting them has greatly enriched my
life. For this I am most grateful.
For those interested in further study, I would recommend the
following materials:
Beyond the Tanabata Bridge: Traditional Japanese
Textiles, by William Jay Rathburn (New York; Thames & Hudson in
association with the Seattle Art Museum, 1993)
Japanese Country Textiles, by Anna Jackson (Victoria and
Albert Museum, 1997)
Japanese Folk Textiles, An American Collection,
Hanten, Atsushi, Kataginu (Shikosha, 1987)
Mingei: Japanese Folk Art from the Montgomery Collection, by
Robert Moes and Amanda Mayer Stinchecum (Alexandria, Virginia: Art
Services International, 1995)
Textile Art of Okinawa, by Reiko Mochinaga Brandon and
Barbara B. Stephan (Honolulu Academy of Arts, 1990)
PHOTO CAPTIONS
1. Chikarpe robe, Ainu,
Hokkaido, Japan. Cotton, appliqué, embroidery. Meiji Period, 19th
century. 52 x 50 in.
2. Farmer's Coat, Japan. Cotton rags, sashiko embroidery.
Edo/Meiji Period, 19th century.
3. Unlined Robe (detail), Okinawa, Japan. Bashofu banana
fiber, kasuri double ikat. Edo/Meiji Period, 19th century.
4. Nobori, Festival Banner, Kyoto or Tokyo, Japan. Cotton,
tsutsugaki freehand resist, painted pigment. Meiji or Taisho
Period, 19th/early 20th century. 182 x 28 in.
5. Festival Robe with family crests (mon kasiwa), Japan.
Cotton, tsutsugaki freehand resist, painted pigment. Edo
Period, 19th century. 52 x 49 in.
6. Yogi, Sleeping Garment, Shimane prefecture, Japan. Cotton,
tsutsugaki freehand resist, quilting. Late Edo/Meiji Period,
19th century. 65 x 55 in.
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