and decorative items.
The overriding element that makes washi so different from other paper is that washi has a refined beauty, found even in its coarser forms. Certainly, some of this special beauty results from the care in selecting, harvesting, handling, and processing the fiber, but much comes from the skill of the papermaker. Most agree that the painstaking labor of making washi by the time-honored, traditional hand methods results in paper that reveals the inherent honesty of the materials. Soetsu Yanagi wrote, in “Washi no bi” (The Beauty of Washi), “The more beautiful it is the more difficult it is, to make trivial use of it.” This is perhaps the greatest stumbling block for most people who love and purchase washi: It is too beautiful to use! Sure, you can frame it, or just keep it in drawers and look at it every so often, but washi begs to be used, and this book presents a series of delightful projects that can help you provide a suitable stage for its full appreciation.
Most people limit their thinking about using washi to simply wrapping or covering things, but with some clever techniques washi comes alive with shape and form. Even artists and craftspeople who routinely use other paper in their work enjoy the qualities of washi, yet they often avoid it because of its softness, opting for stiffer, machine-made papers. The fact is that, even though most washi wears quite well, it often must be lined, backed, or stiffened before use. This book will show you how to prepare your washi for all manner of applications. This and other essential preparation techniques will allow you to greatly expand the possibilities for using washi in your artwork or incorporating it into your surroundings to liven up and enrich your everyday life at home or at work. These techniques are not complex, but few books explain them. No wonder so much of the finest papers sit unused in the dark.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF WASHI
Scholars believe that papermaking began in China perhaps twenty-one centuries ago. It is likely that the method of making sheets of felted plant fiber became known in Japan perhaps five or six centuries later by way of trade with Korea. Certainly, papermaking methods flourished along the Silk Road trade routes to the Middle East, because paper was as useful for wrapping and separating items for sale as it was for documenting the trade transactions.
There are a staggering number of books about handmade paper and papermaking, many with instructions about how to make paper out of almost any kind of plant and recycled fibers. Those books are not about washi. Novelty papers such as those made from grasses, leaves, or weeds have their charm, but the fact is that paper as supple yet as strong and as versatile as washi is just not possible from most plants.
Making washi is somewhat akin to making fine wine. Certain types of washi are made in specific regions of Japan and often carry the names of those locations, much as fine wines may be named for the specific regions in Europe where special grapes were cultivated and unique winemaking methods were developed to process those particular grapes. Likewise, the choicest paper is skillfully made from only specific sections of carefully cultivated and harvested plants, grown in just the right regions, harvested at just the right time. The growing location is critical, because the climate dictates the plant’s growth rate. The process selected for making a particular type of washi depends on the characteristics of the source materials, so it must be adjusted and refined accordingly. There are so many variables in making washi that the analogy of making fine wine is not too far off the mark.
Washi is produced by processing select bast fibers from only a few species of plants, particularly from the paper mulberry (Kozo), Mitsumata, and Gampi. These bast fibers come from the clean, nearly white, inner bark layer, also called the phloem (not the dark, outer bark). Under a microscope, the phloem is a complex, lacey plant tissue, a system of specialized cells including vertical sieve elements, with sieve plates located at the top and at the bottom ends of these long, skinny cells. There are also companion cells surrounding the sieve elements, thought to provide nourishment and functional control of the transportation and movements of sugar and mineral solutions. This tissue achieves a rapid transport of fluids between cells.
In contrast, on the inner side of the growing, cambium layer of cells, are the woody tissues, including the xylem and the pithy, structural core. These layers consist of stiffer, tougher, and thicker cellulose, with smaller cell walls that become woody from amorphous, polymeric deposits made by the plant. These woody tissues require a greater amount of processing, both mechanical and chemical, to make even a low-grade paper, such as that used for disposable napkins, toilet and facial tissue, or inexpensive office paper.
In the washi-making process, after the stems are cut, the bark is stripped off the wood, the bast fibers are separated from the darker bark, and the thin, green, growing layer of undifferentiated cambium is scraped away. At this stage, the fiber is often dried and shipped to processors. Processing the bast fibers by boiling in a caustic (alkaline chemical) solution digests, and allows the removal of, the cambium and companion cell protoplasm. Bits of bark, lignin, and semi-digested cambium still adhere to the mash and must be removed, often by hand with tweezers. Boiling thus makes it easier to clean, separate, and splay the remaining tubes of sieve element tissue. The fraying of these strong, long fibers in the beating process allows them to knit together in a tangled mat as the sheet of paper is being formed. This increased surface area becomes “hydrated” during beating, which allows these sites to be attracted to each other by hydrogen-bonding. The length and strength of fibers, the correct degree of hydration, and the intimacy of physical entanglement makes for strong, supple washi.
Expert papermakers were so fastidious about removing any contamination (or chiri) and discarded so much useful cellulose with the waste that they were able to make low-grade paper with the dregs. This is called chirigami. Because the best paper-makers rejected more impurities, and thus more bast along with them, even their waste paper was strong. It was said that the best way to judge a papermaker was to evaluate the quality of his chirigami. Today, these papers are appreciated for the flecks and bits of impurities that lend chirigami a rustic, earthy quality.
KINDS OF WASHI
Although there are dozens of types of washi, this section describes the general categories of washi that you are likely to find today. Traditionally, washi was formed and treated in special ways to produce paper for different purposes, therefore with different qualities. Maniai-shi included paper with clay added to keep it from puckering, especially useful when the paper will be hung from the wall as backing for artwork or a sign. Waterproof papers made by oiling washi with rapeseed were used for packaging, umbrellas, and raincoats. Tougher, thicker papers were made for tags and cards, while thinner papers, called usuyo-shi, were primarily used for filtration, packaging delicate items, and artful wrapping.
There are excellent books on washi that break these major categories into several subsets of washi types. Though the names of the same papers in different locations and countries have changed over time, resulting in some confusion, this book uses the most recent and common trade names, which you are likely to find in catalogs, on the Internet, and in paper shops. In this book we will focus on the techniques that will help you use washi successfully, regardless of its common name or makeup. The following descriptions and photos will help you to identify and select the proper washi for each project and give you an idea about the types of washi-like papers you may wish to make yourself.
Natural washi is white to tan in color and is made from one or more of the three traditional washi fiber sources: Gampi (Wikstroemia diplomorpha), Mitsumata (Edgeworthia chrysantha), and Kozo (Broussonetia papyrifera). Natural washi may be brightened by drying in the sunlight, but it is usually not colored by additives such as dyes, pigments, or clay.
Dyed washi is available in many colors and weights. Dyes, however, are usually not light-fast, so be careful before you choose solid-colored washi for a project you want to display in sunlight or keep for generations.
