A 100-year-old paulownia chest of drawers, declared "beyond repair," is revived by burning. Through a traditional technique where only the soft wood grain burns and sinks, leaving the hard parts to rise, a beloved 150-year-old furniture piece is brought back to life. He even created a snowboard from rare Aizu paulownia, earning a rebuke from older paulownia craftsmen who questioned, "What on earth are you using it for?" Yet, he never stopped challenging himself. The fourth-generation craftsman shared his story of connecting tradition to the future through manufacturing, from custom paulownia boxes for 20 lenses to domestic paulownia snowboards.
Yasumi Nezu
The 4th generation owner of "Kirisho Nezu," a paulownia product specialty store founded in 1917 in Minakami Town, Gunma Prefecture. Starting as a paulownia forester, the company has handled the production of many paulownia products since its establishment, including paulownia geta, paulownia chests of drawers, building materials, and household goods, adapting to the times.
(*Article content is based on information at the time of the interview)
#3 The craftsmanship of a paulownia chest "restoration" artisan
From "shaving" to "burning." Breathing new life into a 100-year-old paulownia chest.
―― How is this unique uneven texture created?
It's created by burning the surface.
Wood has soft grains that grow in summer and hard grains that grow in winter. By burning, only the soft parts burn away and sink, while the hard parts remain raised. This creates the unevenness.
―― Why burn it?
One reason is to make it harder. We call it "yakishime" (tightening by burning); by removing the soft parts of the surface and leaving only the hard parts, it becomes more resistant to scratches.
Wood grain has two types: summer growth and winter growth, and they differ in hardness. When you burn it, only the soft summer grain burns away and sinks.
And only the hard part remains floating even after being burned. You'll understand if you touch it.
―― I felt it was the wisdom of our predecessors.
Another important aspect is its use as a repair method. Normal repairs involve planing the surface to clean it, but after repeated planing, the wood becomes thin, and some chests reach a point where they can no longer be repaired.
It depends on the item, but usually, it's said that you can plane it twice. If it's a chest made with thick boards, you can plane it three times, but after three times, a fourth might be impossible.
Even chests that can no longer be repaired by planing, or old chests from the late Edo or early Meiji periods, can be repaired using our burning method.
That's why other craftsmen sometimes refer chests they've deemed "beyond repair" to us, saying, "Mr. Nezu in Gunma can fix it."
―― Are some of the chests you're asked to repair quite old?
Yes, some are from the early Meiji period, about 150 years ago. Customers often ask me, "Is this chest worth repairing?" but whether it's worth it or not is not for us to decide.
No matter how old it is, it might be a chest that a customer inherited from their grandmother, full of memories. If they have such feelings, we will restore it beautifully. If they bring it to us, there isn't a chest we can't fix at the moment.
#4 The resolve of a paulownia craftsman and new challenges
Breaking through traditional barriers with snowboards: "What are you using it for?"
―― I heard you're also using domestic paulownia for snowboards. That's a very innovative initiative.
Snowboards originally use paulownia as their core material. We had an encounter with a manufacturer who wanted to make snowboards with domestic paulownia, and that's how our collaboration began.
First, we made a special board entirely covered with Aizu paulownia, which has a rare "tamamoku" (figured grain) that only appears in one out of 10,000 trees.
―― That's incredible. How was the reaction from others?
I got heavily criticized by older paulownia craftsmen, who asked, "What on earth are you using it for?" They said things like, "How dare you use domestic paulownia for something like this?"
But I thought, "If we keep saying things like that, this industry will decline." We need to use paulownia for more new things. It's light, flexible, and has elasticity. There must still be many places where paulownia can be useful.
―― Breaking down preconceived notions, right?
Exactly. My master encouraged me, saying, "Go, make more!" He told me, "It's fine, this rare material was destined to become a snowboard."
We can't just stay cooped up; we have to go out, talk to various people, and challenge new things. It's no longer an option. Not just in the paulownia industry, but we need to collaborate with people from various industries and show that "traditional crafts can be more creative and interesting."
#5 Creating "furniture that lasts 100 years"
Giving form to abandoned desires. The spirit of four generations of craftsmanship
―― You mentioned an event that was the turning point for you to enter this profession.
It's a story about a chest my grandfather repaired a long time ago. A customer came who wanted to fix a chest filled with memories of her deceased husband. To be honest, it wasn't a very good chest.
I thought it was a terrible chest, but it was very important to the customer. It was a chest that her grandparents and family had cherished, but the drawers were broken, there were gaps in the backboard, and insects could easily get in; it was in terrible condition.
But she wanted to continue using it, so the request came to us. When my grandfather and I fixed it and delivered it, she was so happy, she knelt down and broke into tears right in front of us, saying, "It's wonderful, Grandpa, it's beautiful."
At that moment, I thought, "What kind of job is this?" A job that can influence people like this, that can make something that was given up on usable again, felt incredibly rewarding.
That might have been my biggest motivation.
―― Does that primal experience influence your current craftsmanship?
Our job is to create desires that are not yet materialized, like "I want something like this here," from scratch. For example, a camera enthusiast once asked us to make a paulownia box that would perfectly fit all 20 of his lenses.
All 20 pieces had different dimensions. It's a lot of trouble, but they come to us because there are no other paulownia box makers who can handle such an order. We make even a single item.
―― Finally, please tell us about your future outlook.
Returning to our roots, I really want to focus on "boxes for carefully storing precious items."
For that purpose, I want to re-evaluate the uses and firmly propose ways to use paulownia boxes that fit modern times.
Whether it's for leather shoes or suits—whereas in the past it was for kimonos or hanging scrolls—I believe that the more we convey the goodness of paulownia and explain what it is, the more it will apply to any industry.
While it's not yet entirely clear what we'll create for this industry, I do want to return to the origin of the box.
And most of all, I want to one day make furniture from trees that we've grown ourselves from seed. It's a long-term endeavor, perhaps whether we can even fell them in our lifetime, but I want to connect it to the future in that way.
