cannot go further without taking a few lines to express my sincere appreciation to Mr. Okada Hiromu, President of Bingoya Craft Shop and to Mr. Shiga Naokuni, President of Takumi Craft Shop. Both of these learned gentlemen unstintingly gave their time and knowledge in helping me gather information for the initial articles. Without their expert help, the essays would have been nearly impossible to compile.
And once the series had ended it was the enthusiastic support of Ms. Koko Hashim of NYC and Mr. Kai Frost of John Wanamaker Philadelphia who saw the potential of making the collection of completed essays into a book, and assembling an exhibition of folk art based on these items.
By no means should this selection of 116 items be construed as the only remaining folk art in Japan. Far from it, as there are literally hundreds from which a choice had to be made. I selected initially on the basis of location, by picking one per prefecture moving from Hokkaido south to Okinawa. Then given full rein I skipped all over the islands picking up functional crafts, toys and the more misunderstood and pervasive ENGI (literally luck bringers). These often double as toys after their effectiveness has worn out and are given to children so whilst playing they (engi) can effect their protective powers.
Unfortunately some of the items I originally wrote about have already ceased to be. The two-part production of Hatta-yaki vessels are such an example, as are the “salt-spraying whale carts” of Nagasaki-ken. And others are waning as their markets narrow, and occasionally disappear almost before your very eyes. This trend has been somewhat reversed by a renewed interest in collecting mingei spawned by regular, impressive colour layouts in popular, leisure magazines catering to the travelling middle-class. A tourism orientation to be sure, but better than none as a market although crass commercialism of some items has done them in from that end of the scale. The biggest problem facing the makers of these unique items is teaching the craftsmanship needed for continued production to a ready and willing apprentice or relative. Many mingei have been passed from generation to generation for centuries, but the lure of a better life at better pay is creating havoc with this system.
I tried to compile this book to be as readable and useful as possible. Each item is illustrated either with a pen drawing or in a colour photograph. Most appear directly opposite written information about them, but colour printing costs forced me to gather photos together in one section. Each photograph is identified with its name and chapter number. Some items have, in addition to their illustrations, a colour plate showing special production methods, manner of use or even the way they are typically sold as is the case of Daruma. In the few instances I gave Japanese names, I listed proper family names first. And I have given the reader many Japanese words in the texts — most explained immediately and all others explained in a combined Index/Glossary at the back of the book. The locator map which directly follows this introduction is to give you some idea of the geographical spread of items selected. Prefectures are titled and chapter numbers relative to each are listed there. A guide to the colour closeups used on the cover is given with photo credits on page 260.
Meant to be compact, diverse and informative at the same time, I hope readers of MINGEI, Japan’s Enduring Folk Arts will enjoy journeying through this encapsuled world and perhaps gain a new perspective on the value of folk art as a result.
Intervening centuries fall away when one contemplates the pathos of little Hoko-san’s devotion or senses the romantic elegance of giving a raincape to your intended. Perhaps this small collection will help stem the destructive tides of change progress seems to bring in its wake, and thus help maintain the integrity of function and use that these many unique items are imbued with.
Tokyo, 1983
| 1 | HOKKAIDO |
| AINU TEBORI-BACHI | |
Hokkaido is Japan’s youngest region, being settled by the Japanese only a century ago. To find what may truly be classified as folk art there, one has to go beyond that time period and seek work from the Ainu culture. The Ainu had long lived in this area and although much of their tradition has been both suppressed and altered since the Meiji era, they continue to create original works although not in great quantity. Several villages, where the majority of the residents are blood-related Ainu, (full Ainu being a rarity these days) have school-factories for woodcarving. Many of the designs are commercially inspired like letter-holders with a bearded countenance and a long-haired lass in traditional garb, while sculpture seldom seems to vary from a bear firmly gumming a salmon.
The problem is that both of these styles are made by a host of factories and in some cases even imported from South Korea where hand labor is considerably cheaper, thereby gaining another market edge on souvenirs. Where Ainu carvers have the distinct upper hand is in the making of exquisitely finished bowls and assorted food equipment. Items they have traditionally hand made for their own use are now being made in limited quantity for the buying public. The difference in quality between the average and most easily found souvenir carving and a bowl, perhaps like the one shown in the sketch, is like night and day. Pride in craftsmanship imbued in such a finegrained wooden bowl shines subtlely through. The soft, velvety finish inside and out, as well as the intricately patterned design on its winglike handles, demonstrates the maker’s love of craft and the care with which he fashions a product worthy of respect and deserving of use.
Outside of food products like smoked salmon and any of a number of unusal flowering plants peculiar to the wilds of this northermost island, the only sensible souvenir is Ainu-associated folk art. The best and consequently more costly is hand-carved work that is functional but not overly decorated. Carved patterning serves only to enhance each object and not to dominate it. Spoons, serving bowls in a range of sizes and thick slabs of hardwood made into traditional chopping blocks, each with border edge patterning and a shallow indented keeping well carved into the flat cutting surface are available intermittently. Most such production is made for use within the community.
| 2 | AOMORI |
| YAWATA-UMA | |
Honshu’s northernmost prefecture, Aomori, has many fine examples of folk art throughout its mountainous region. Most have their origins in the hard life climatic extremes created seasonally.
Historically, YAWATA-UMA are related to feudal castle life at Nejo, a suburb of Hachinohe on the Pacific coast. Nejo samurai customs included yearly demonstrations of martial prowess in “Yabusame” contests: bow and arrow shooting at a stationary target from a galloping horse. Yabusame events were regularly held on the grounds of Yawata Jingu, a Shinto shrine dedicated to Hachiman, the god of war. These memorable occasions eventually evolved into a set festival for all area residents. Nowadays it is regularly held on Aug. 15. Scores of stalls in and around the shrine offer visitors these miniature horse mementoes recalling the samurai and their mounts of yesteryear.
The horse became a popular symbol and souvenir of the area about the time of the Meiji restoration when an itinerant woodworker settled in Tenguzawa, just to the south of Hachinohe. As supplemental income to what he earned by producing lacquerware, he fashioned a number of small chargers using only an ax and chisel. His roughly formed horses were decoratively painted and sold at the yearly Yawata Jingu festival. Popularity spurred productivity and soon many local residents were using snowbound winter days to advantage by fashioning similar Yawata-uma. Inset horse hair manes and tails add to the charm of the toys as much as does the brocadelike painted decoration which resembles the armour samurai mounts used to wear.
Yawata-uma come in a variety of sizes — from the truly minature
