Japan's lost art revived

Lacquer lore

Visit just about any souvenir store in Japan, and there are certain things you are bound to find.

Amid the cast-iron teapots, handmade ceramics and wooden kokeshi dolls there probably will be a selection of glossy lacquerware bowls, plates and teacups, modern versions of one of the country’s most traditional arts.

There are several Japanese towns that specialise in lacquerware, including Odawara in Kanagawa prefecture, a half-hour trip southwest of Tokyo by high-speed train. Here, about 50 artisans paint the sap of the Japanese lacquer tree onto wooden objects, giving them a durable, shiny finish.

Odawara is known mainly as a transit point for tourists travelling between Tokyo and the hot springs resort area of Hakone, a few kilometres further southwest. This strategic location — on a main route and near the popular hot springs — is what originally turned the town into a centre of lacquerware trade.

When Odawara castle was built in the mid-1400s, lacquerware artisans from around the country moved here, eager to use the timber that was abundant on the surrounding Hakone mountains. But it wasn’t until the 1700s that they began to develop the characteristics that Odawara lacquerware is known for today. Because they made everyday items, such as soup bowls and trays, and things that got hard use, such as weapons and armour, artisans used a simple, natural finish that is different from the bright red, deep black or gold-flecked lacquerware products found elsewhere.

Hub for artists
Three of the artisans now in Odawara are recognised by the Japanese government as masters of the lacquer-applying craft. One of them is Mitsuru Ishikawa of Ishikawa Lacquerware.

Now 56, Ishikawa first entered the business when he was in his early 20s. Having grown up in Tokyo and studied economics, he never imagined he would end up as one of Japan’s traditional craftsmen. But he married into the trade — his wife, Yasuyo, and her sister, Chizue Tonozaki, are the fourth generation of a family of lacquerware artisans. Both sisters help manage the business and work in its shop.

“Making things suits me,” Ishikawa said. “Most artisans have to do things a certain way and are only able to do what they’re told, but I do things in the way I like and make what I want to make.”

Ishikawa’s style of applying lacquer initially produces a matte finish, rather than the polished, shiny look common in lacquerware. He says he wants buyers to use his products often; with regular use and washing, the glossy finish eventually appears. The change, he said, reflects an item’s history and, in a way, allows the user to be a part of the production process.

Most Odawara lacquerware items are made of wood from the Japanese zelkova tree. The forests around Odawara and Hakone are filled with these trees but, since the Fuji-Hakone-Izu National Park was created in 1936, Odawara artisans now must use wood from areas north of Tokyo.

The lacquer itself is the filtered or heat-treated sap of the lacquer tree, or Rhus verniciflua, and contains no chemicals or tints. It is a natural material that provides a durable finish that is even dishwasher safe.

Ishikawa Lacquerware does not harvest raw materials but it does the rest of the production process in-house, which Ishikawa says is rare in Odawara. “Many places buy the pre-made wooden objects and then just apply the lacquer to them,” he said. “But doing everything from scratch allows us to make things that are more unique and that can’t be found anywhere else.”

The process starts with blocks of wood that, after harvesting, have been left to dry for about one year. In the traditional method, a lathe is used to shape a block into an object, a step that requires years of experience and is a traditional craft in its own right, recognised by the Japanese government. (The artisans who specialise in forming objects are not the same as those who apply lacquer; the skills required are vastly different.)

In addition to following the traditional process, Ishikawa Lacquerware also employs Yoshio Suganuma, 73, who has been shaping items with the same, now slightly primitive, machines for more than 50 years. “Other factories now use computerised methods,” Ishikawa said, “but there’s no craftsmanship in that. Anyone can do it.”

Ancient techniques
Once Suganuma has shaped a block, he puts it through a planer to create a uniform height and to smooth the top and bottom slightly. Then, using a circular saw with its blade at an angle, he tapers the edges and roughly cuts a shape he has traced on the wood. Unlike the lathe method, which produces only perfectly round shapes, this process can be used to make items ranging from plates with scalloped edges to rectangular lunch boxes.

The final step performed by Suganuma, and the one requiring the most precision, involves using a router that spins 20,000 times per minute to perfect the shape and smooth the sides. It is dangerous work — as evidenced by numerous scars on Suganuma’s hands — and it relies largely on instinct.

“He does this all by experience. He knows how the machine feels because he’s been working on it for over 50 years,” Ishikawa said. “But it’s faster than the computerised machines, and the final result is better.”

Once Suganuma is happy with it, the item is sanded and buffed before being passed on to Ishikawa and his fellow painters. The lacquer may be clear, to allow the wood grain to show through, or coloured with powdered pigments.

An artisan uses a wooden scraperlike tool, called a hera, to take a small amount of lacquer from a can and place it on a work table. Then he uses a brush, called a hake, to apply the lacquer. Hake, which come in various widths, are made of human hair that has been fed through cylinders of Japanese cypress. When a brush tip becomes worn, an artisan simply cuts off a bit of the wooden handle, revealing fresh hair. “Originally, male artisans used to grow out their own hair to use in making the hake,” Ishikawa said. “Human hair has the right texture for lacquer painting; it’s not too soft or too hard.”

From eight to 20 coats of lacquer are applied; a piece is allowed to dry for about a day between coats, until the desired effect is achieved.

Ishikawa Lacquerware employs 10 or so artisans, including a few who work freelance from home, and produces on average 100 to 200 items a month. The company accepts wholesale and custom orders and has made speciality items such as Buddhist altars and even small pieces of furniture. Restaurants often order large numbers of matching bowls, plates and chopsticks, and large round trays, which cost 80,000 yen, or about $750, are popular wedding gifts.

But in the tradition of Odawara lacquerware, it is the more simple, everyday things that are most popular. “Simple and natural things are well-suited to this day in time; they’re not too fancy or expensive, but still beautiful,” Ishikawa said. “I don’t want to make fancy things.”