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Ichiroya has graciously allowed me to use
images from their site to illustrate my ramblings. This is not
a financial arrangement I have made - I simply believe them to
be wonderful people with whom I enjoy doing business, and wish
to support their endeavors. Ichiroya is a web based treasure
trove of Japanese textiles, antiques, and information. If you
haven't visited them in the past, just click on the icon to the
left! Or, click on any of the images below to be taken directly
to their page for more images and information.
KANOKOSHIBORI
Kanoko means fawn (literally, baby deer). It is
in reference to the tiny white camouflage spots a fawn looses
as it grows older.
I’m often amused when
I hear someone tell me that kanokoshibori
is created by tying the silk
around a grain of rice. I’m sure the origins of this
“myth-conception” (sorry!) are based upon a very
logical misunderstanding, however it is passed along by people
who seemingly have never cooked rice. When rice it cooked it
swells, this would not only rip the silk, but would also leave
you with a very sticky mess to wipe from the fiber before it
could be sewn.
To create the complex kanoko designs
you see on this page, several steps are
required. After the artist has created a
repeating pattern or image, it is transferred to hand-made
mulberry paper (very similar to that used in katazome). The design is
then translated into a series of dots and the holes are punch
accordingly. If it is a repeating pattern, one stencil is used
over and over again. If a single image for the garment, then
several stencils are designed to work together.
Through this stencil is
brushed a very unique dye called aobana (blue flower). It leaves a blue-grey spot
wherever there is a hole in the stencil. It is a very fugitive
dye, and in this case ideal for the task at hand since it later
disappears entirely on contact with water.
The skilled craftsperson
assigned to tying the silk must be sure to “pinch”
every single spot as the minute portions are tied off. This is
done by professionals using only their fingers and a
spool of thread that looks somewhat like
a tatting shuttle.
The tightly wrapped thread
acts as the resist, preventing any dye from seeping into that
portion of the fabric. Once the fabric has gone through one or
more color changes by being steeped in dye, the string is
removed and the white portions revealed. The heat of the dye
not only sets the color, but also sets in the wrinkles that
give shibori one of it’s many endearing qualities.
above and right: A man’s nagajuban (under-kimono) with the image of performers
doing the Sparrow Dance. The grey, black, and brown sections
are divided using nui-shibori.
Many people believe this
intricate work to be done by machine. Perhaps this is true in
some cases, but everything illustrated on these pages is hand
tied. I have not been able to find any information on any
mechanized method of tying kanoko. If pressed, the Japanese professionals admit
that they have no personal knowledge of this, and further admit,
reluctantly, that a great deal of contemporary work is
done in China.
Unfortunately, many
collectors and connoisseurs believe that being produced in
China lessens the inherent quality or value of a piece. I
don’t. What difference does it make if the production is
moved to the next prefecture, or a few more miles away?
Beautiful work is beautiful work – no matter to whom
those talented hands belong!
