TOHOKU STANDARD

“Nozawa Mingei Folk Craft Shop” in Nishi-Aizu Town, Maya County, Fukushima Prefecture manufactures Akabeko, Masks, Okiagari-Hariko or self-righting hariko, etc. Mr. Hourin makes freestyle molds based on his images, while Ms. Minako Hayakawa creates new painting designs. We interviewed the two artists who have devoted themselves to the Hariko craft for two generations.

How did you learn Hariko making?

I have been making molds to produce prototypes of Hariko, but I started it totally by self-study. At One time, I made Kokeshi by turning. Both of them are alike in terms of whittling wood but the Kokeshi form is geometrical and the shape is uniform to some extent, so I lost interest in it, you see? Because my interest was in carving according to my own free imagination, I turned to the Hariko crafting.

What is important in making the shape?

Prior to making the shape, the image is important. It takes about a day just to carve out a shape from a piece of lumber. The overall form is prepared by shaving off redundant portions. It takes about two months or so to think about it in my head, though it is speedy once production is started.

I understand the product is completed after a number of processes. Is the image that was conceived in the beginning kept unchanged throughout?

You see, the form is prepared from the design, and the shape is given on it and is painted. Because it is not made by machine and people are varied, the touch of each brush and the distinctive feel of each finish will also be different from one to the other. Occasionally, the initial image has receded far away. The image seems to be just in front of me, but is felt very far away. That is both very enjoyable and difficult. That is where I am torn apart most. Because images held by all members need to be unified, I tell them my image in detail and we proceed through close communication.

Which is the oldest Akabeko in this studio?

There is neither new nor old Akabeko. We have inherited the image held from several hundred years ago and produced Akabeko of the same shape for the last fifty years. That is our tradition.

By the way, is Akabeko a bull or a cow?

I have no idea. It is said that the legendary Akabeko, which helped the work of the Lord of Aizu and from which the Akabeko story was created, did not have red but brown hair. Old people painted it with Bengara or red iron dioxide. So Akabeko became red in color. That is, Akabeko was red before. The kind of Beko that is just as it is taken from the photograph is not interesting. The Akabeko that I make doesn’t look like a cow, does it? But to catch features which animals have, we must observe their motions and lovable gestures. When I feel tired, I sway it in this way and play with it. How lovely it is!

You and your daughter have tackled Aizu Hariko crafting for two generations. What do you think of your daughter Ms. Hayakawa so far?

I think one has time to become tired of one’s own way of life. When she looked to her father and continued the same way of thinking as his, she may have found herself sometimes unable to surpass him. I think every time she hit such a hard wall, she looked at her father’s back and managed to come this point. In ”Mono-Zukuri”, there should be a hard wall one has to climb over by oneself. That is the portion which I can’t teach her about. Though she has been learning by mistakes in many ways, her work has recently been requested from here and there. These cases seem to be the sources of her confidence.

What do you think about the Tohoku culture?

I have found fascinating stuff in the Tohoku culture. Just as Ukiyoe influenced painters overseas, we hope that people overseas see more of our culture. I like music and formative arts in Northern Europe. I have found that there are some things exaggerated there while excluding wastefulness. I feel freedom there among other things. While I am absorbing overseas cultures, I would like to get exposed to, and influenced by, good things, and pursue something higher. There are still many things to explore.

What do you feel now that you have been in touch with Hariko crafting since childhood?

Though I felt that my father’s job was a bit queer, I have never perceived it as special. The house I lived in when I was small was behind this studio. I was watching what he did every day as a matter of course. My father used to draw pictures of Beko for me and tell me, ‘wouldn’t it be interesting if there were a beko like this?

When did you become engaged in Hariko crafting as a job?

It was thirty years ago when I started this job. Though I had not experienced the fine art, I participated in the team as painter. I learned from the seniors there simple parts like orienting myself in colours and with the brushwork. I remember I frequently made mistakes and when I failed, many of my works became unsellable goods.

What is important when you paint Hariko?

I pay close attention because even a single line may look totally different by merely adjusting its thickness and thinness. I don’t want to re-do many times, so it matters whether I can draw this single line fast, without stopping. The motion of the brush is important to quickly draw a line at a stretch, such that widths of the single lines do not vary from each other. The speed of drawing and the conditions of the pigment influence the finish. On the other hand, the finish doesn’t necessarily get better even if I draw so carefully, though…‥lines drawn with a momentum are cool, though even a bit crooked.

When you introduced a new design or pattern which had not existed in the image of Hariko before, what discussion did you have with Hourin san?

Because each of us has a different sense in thinking about a design or pattern, we disagree with each other. Either This or This! (Laughter) My Father is a man who has made folk crafts for years. I was once told, “You dare to do such a thing. Is it really all right?” But I dared to make it in secrecy…behind him. As a result, this one happened to lead to a collaborative scheme. I heard a co-worker say that he would not have been able to work together if this shop had only been making the kind of obstinately traditional crafts, but that when he saw our Okiagari-Koboshi, something struck him, “This shop will accept mine.” So, now I think it was nice of me that I have been sticking to new designs so far.

Do you feel that you are making traditional things?

I think the so-called tradition is meaningless if it doesn’t continue. Even the things that are called traditions now have descended by changing shapes bit by bit during a certain period of time and, at the end of the descending, they have become traditions. So I respect those people who make conventional Hariko toys in that sense. And if portions of them are changed sometimes, then I think it is good if they have become traditions. If things are made and loved by various people, their original essence will stay there. And if the makers don’t waiver in the spirit, they are sticking to the tradition. All in all, it is meaningful to keep on crafting.

What thoughts do you have on continuing Mono-Zukuri in Fukushima Prefecture?

Though I haven’t been particularly conscious of Fukushima Prefecture so far, I have been certainly asked, “What did you think when the earthquake happened?”, whenever I visited other places after the disaster. So, I thought that Fukushima Prefecture attracted attention of not only Japanese but also people the world over, and so, people were looking at us in that way. Fukushima Prefecture currently has various issues, so I feel that there must be some meaning in my living in Fukushima Prefecture at the time when the disaster happened. Isn’t it nice if people look at us and think that we are determined to make Hariko here and that Fukushima Prefecture has such a good thing. That is, Hariko may become a kind of product that encourages Fukushima and Tohoku people.