#4 Beyond the Lockers of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston: Going to America, Rebellion, and Succession
“Stay out of sight for 500 years.” The determination of the 15th generation to take over a silent family business.
──Please tell us about your own upbringing, Mr. Wada.
I went to elementary school in Kyoto and a private junior high school in Nara. Well, it was truancy, as it would be called today. The future was already visible to us.
Wherever I went, I was told, "You'll be the successor." My future was predetermined, so there was a rebellious streak, and also the fear of whether I had the skills for it.
One day, my father colluded with my school teacher, got all the visas and admission permits, laid them out in front of me, and said, "Go to America." A week later, I was already on a plane.
──What kind of experiences did you have in America?
The school had students from all over the world: sons of wealthy Arabs, sons of South American drug lords, sons of presidential aides. It was more interesting than the petty squabbles between Kyoto and Osaka, with even more diverse people coming together.
Because my family is in this profession, art was my strongest subject. My teacher submitted my work to a contest without my knowledge, and I won first place in Pennsylvania, then also passed the East Coast finals and received the "National Finalist" award.
I was invited to the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston's affiliated school, and with my student ID, I could enter the storage rooms. I would open a locker and gaze at the Wind God and Thunder God screens.
One time, I opened a locker and found Raku tea bowls stacked naked. They were early pieces from the first to fourth generations. When I asked, "What happened to the boxes?" they told me they had thrown them overboard from the ship during the postwar acquisition, thinking they were just packaging. I taught them there, "This is the most important thing."
──How has your learning in America been applied to Sanada-himo?
The "value" of color taught there—the weight of color. Which shade of blue has the same weight as which shade of red.
This concept was useful when making cords, deciding which colors to emphasize and which to blur. Since I also worked with jewelry, I applied how to use metal fittings, and that's how my current small accessories were developed.
──After returning to Japan, what led to your decision to succeed the Sanada-himo business?
When I returned to Japan and visited department stores or participated in product exhibitions, almost no one knew about Sanada-himo. Even prominent figures in tea ceremony schools would say, "I didn't know that each family had its own designated colors."
I then realized that if I stopped, this culture itself would disappear from Japan.
Until then, we had been told for about five hundred years to "stay out of sight" to prevent counterfeits. But that was because the other parties knew about it, so we remained silent. As generations passed, it reached a point where no one knew.
If we remained silent, who would pass on the culture? So, after succeeding, I decided to be open about it.
My paternal side is Wada Koremune—a lineage of Koga samurai, from whom I learned the etiquette of armor. My maternal side is *nushi (lacquerware craftsman) and related to Mushanokoji Senke, tracing back to Sen no Rikyu.
*Nushi: A craftsman who applies lacquer.
I learned about tea ceremony from this side. Furthermore, as we are also a family of *sashimonoshi (joinery craftsmen), I am the seventh generation sashimonoshi and the fifteenth generation Sanada-himo artisan.
The old shop sign actually read "Sashimonoshi Konan." We couldn't use the name Sanada-himo. Kyoto houses are narrow at the front and deep at the back. If you were hammering wood at the front of the house, the sound of weaving in the back wouldn't reach the street, so no one would notice.
*Sashimonoshi: A craftsman who makes furniture, boxes, and tea ceremony utensils by cutting mortise and tenon joints into wood and assembling them without using metal such as nails.
#5 The World's Thinnest Weave: Who will it reach?
The 15th generation without a successor, and what they now entrust to the cords
──I've heard that even weaving professionals don't understand the structure of Sanada-himo's bag weave.
That's right. Even people from weaving mills ask, "How does this happen?" Normally, if there are two layers, a gap would open horizontally, but Sanada-himo has so many threads that when the weft is pulled, it compresses and doesn't open.
Because we weave upper layer, lower layer, upper layer, lower layer, the progress is twice as slow. The cost skyrockets, so normally, no one would do it.
──Please tell us about the actual weaving process.
You move the heddles with a pedal, insert the weft with a bamboo spatula and pull it tight, then beat it with a bamboo reed.
This is a continuous process. The tension of the pull is everything, so once one person starts, only that person can weave it. The same person weaves the entire 70-meter length until it's finished.
──I heard that there are surprising patterns in sample books from the Taisho era.
There are patterns like those from when the "Chin Chin Dentetsu" (streetcar) first ran in Kyoto in Taisho 2 (1913). There's a gray section under the utility pole and power line pattern, and when I investigated why, I found out that old utility poles had stone bases. They made the stone part realistically.
It was a rich person's plaything; they wanted a "Chin Chin Dentetsu pattern." When I said our loom couldn't weave it, they funded us, saying, "I'll give you money, so build a loom and make it when you can weave it."
The finished product was made into a haori cord, just for showing off to geisha, saying, "Isn't this nice? It's a Chin Chin Dentetsu!"
The uses have changed with the times. From tea ceremony utensils to kimonos, and during the war, parachute cords and gaiter laces. The category changes with each era.
──You're also trying to incorporate old knotting techniques into modern life.
By adapting the "Myoga knot" used for sword cords and adding metal fittings, it becomes earrings, and if made into a necklace, it can hold glasses.
Actually, I was just making necklaces, and a customer told me, "It's convenient for holding glasses." I leave the usage up to the individual.
Sanada-himo is woven by compressing the warp and weft, so it carries the meaning of "connecting people."
Some shrines give it out as an amulet, and some give it as a good luck charm for safe childbirth, hoping for a strong child like Yukimura.
──Regarding the issue of successors, I'd like to ask you frankly.
I don't have children, but traditionally, we weren't allowed to take on apprentices. There was a family rule that secrets would be leaked if outsiders were brought in.
Currently, there are only two Sanada-himo artisans in this shop: my wife and me. If I die, there will be no successor, and this culture could be lost from Japan. All the data in my head would also be lost.
I think I should write a book or something, but when it comes to the topic of specific cords, there are businesses that make fakes, so it's a difficult situation. If I write too much, it could lead to perfect counterfeits.
That's why I'm trying to share a little bit at a time like this. I hope you'll listen carefully while you have the chance.
