Traditional Japanese Wood and Bamboo Crafts | Part I

1. Hakone wood mosaic

A Craft Born from Nature

Hakone yosegi zaiku is a traditional Japanese woodcraft that comes from Hakone, a town in Kanagawa. This area is known for its untouched forests and wide mix of native trees. Mount Hakone alone is home to dozens of tree species. That’s what makes this craft special. Artisans use the natural colors and textures of the wood itself. No paint, no stains. Just raw wood, carefully picked and placed.

The variety of colors lets them build complex patterns with deep contrast. Some designs are based on other Japanese crafts, like kimono fabric or washi paper. You’ll see shapes like arrowheads, ocean waves, geometric keys, or the hemp-leaf symbol, which is common in Japanese textiles. These patterns are made entirely from different kinds of wood, with more than fifty tree types in use. That’s how much detail and range this art form has.

From Roadside Souvenirs to Recognized Art

At first, yosegi zaiku was made as small souvenirs for travelers walking the old Tokaido Highway. That road used to connect Kyoto to Edo, which is now Tokyo. Hakone was a major stop along the route. It had hot springs, tea shops, and checkpoints where people rested. Tourists would buy handmade goods, and yosegi items became popular.

Even the oldest pieces show how skilled the early makers were. What started as local trinkets grew into something more. In 1984, the Japanese government recognized Hakone yosegi zaiku as an official traditional craft. That marked its change from simple souvenir to serious art.

A Long History, a Slow Evolution

The roots of Japanese marquetry go back even further. In the Heian period, around 794 to 1185 CE, nobles used fine wood in their furniture. But the Hakone style didn’t appear until the Edo period, from 1603 to 1868. That’s when a man named Nihei Ishikawa, living in Hatajuku in Hakone, started making early yosegi pieces. His first designs were simple. He used one kind of wood and added drawn-on patterns. There was no color variation yet. But they still caught people’s attention.

Locals and travelers bought these items at roadside inns and bathhouses. By the end of the Edo period, the craft had grown. Makers started turning wood on lathes to form bowls or cups. Others built boxes, trays, or small cabinets. The real change came when artists began blending many wood types together. That’s when the mosaic patterns truly took off.

A Craft That Stuck Around

From there, the designs kept evolving. The patterns became more refined. New types of wood were added. More detail, more color, more complexity. These pieces weren’t just souvenirs anymore. They became prized decorations and gifts.

Even now, you can find yosegi items across Japan. Toys, puzzles, boxes, and small furniture, all made from layers of wood pieced together without paint. The technique is still taught, and it’s still passed down.

Hakone yosegi zaiku is one of the clearest examples of how a simple craft can grow over time. It started small but stayed strong because it was built on skill, nature, and good design.

How Hakone Marquetry Is Made

Letting the Wood Dry

The first step in making yosegi marquetry is simple. Freshly cut timber is left in the shade to dry out. This part matters. If the wood isn't dried right, it can warp or crack later. So the drying has to be slow and even. No direct sun.

Choosing the Right Wood Colors

Next, the wood gets sorted by color. The color of each piece is what creates the pattern. Common wood types include holly for white, chestnut for brown, rengas for black, and magnolia for green. Other trees give shades of red, yellow, and gray. Picking the right mix of color is one of the most important parts of the process.

The patterns range from classic to modern. Some have sharp shapes like squares, octagons, or checkerboards. Others are more flowing, like ocean waves or arrowheads. Traditional designs like the hemp-leaf or key pattern are still used today, but new patterns are being added too.

Trimming the Wood Pieces

Once the wood types are picked, the tiles are trimmed. A Japanese hand plane, called a kanna, is used to shave each tile to the right thickness. After that, glue is applied. The pieces are stacked in a set color order, then pressed together. That stack becomes the raw material used for cutting later.

Cutting and Shaping

That glued block gets shaped next. The stack is shaved down at a 45-degree angle, then locked into a guide and cut by hand with a saw. After cutting, the surface is cleaned up again with the kanna to make sure everything lines up perfectly.

Building the Pattern

Now the real pattern starts to form. Pieces with the same shape get joined together based on the design. Glue holds them in place, and a cotton cord wraps the whole thing to keep it tight while it sets. This creates a single patterned unit.

Every one of these units has to be exact. That’s what gives the final piece such detailed lines and sharp edges.

Creating a Larger Design

Once a few patterned units are made, they’re glued side by side to build a bigger piece. That larger pattern is also tied up with cord, then cut again into blocks of a set thickness. These new blocks are the base of what’s called a “yosegi taneita.” The more blocks you add, the more complex the pattern gets.

Slicing Thin Veneers

The taneita blocks are then shaved down using a large kanna. This produces super thin layers called zuku. These sheets are as thin as paper but made entirely of wood. They’re used like veneer in the next steps.

Flattening the Thin Sheets

The thin zuku layers can curl up after cutting. To fix this, they’re ironed flat or backed with Japanese paper. That helps them stay smooth and easier to handle.

Gluing It All Together

The final stage is gluing. These thin wood sheets are carefully attached to the surface of the object, like a small box or case. Each sheet is pressed on with care to avoid bubbles or bends. For items made from solid marquetry, the thicker taneita blocks are used instead.

The entire process repeats. Cut, glue, shape, and stack. With each round, the pattern grows more detailed. It takes a lot of focus, steady hands, and real patience. But in the end, that’s what gives yosegi its layered texture and sharp design. No shortcuts, just time and skill.

 

2. Iwayado traditional chest

Chests Built with Purpose and Skill

Iwayado tansu is a type of handmade wooden chest that comes from Oshu and Morioka in Iwate Prefecture. The word tansu means chest of drawers, but these aren’t just for storing clothes. Craftsmen have long made everyday pieces like bookshelves, tea cabinets, and low tables. In the past, they even built clever versions that worked as both stairs and storage, or that could be wheeled out of a burning house in an emergency.

What sets Iwayado tansu apart is the detail. These chests are known for their precise structure and the bold metalwork on every corner and handle. You’ll usually find two main styles of hardware: one is hand-embossed with decorative scenes, and the other uses Nambu iron, a strong ironware made in the region. A single chest might be fitted with 60 to 100 small pieces of metal, each with its own engraved pattern.

A Finish That Deepens Over Time

The surface of each Iwayado tansu is coated using one of two traditional lacquer techniques. One is called fukiurushi-nuri, which involves applying the lacquer in layers and polishing between each coat. The other is kijiro-nuri, which uses a clear coat to let the grain show through. Both finishes highlight the natural wood, add depth to the look, and help the color grow richer as the piece ages.

From Fujiwara Roots to Castle-Era Growth

The story of Iwayado chests goes back to the 1100s. At that time, the Hiraizumi area was under the Fujiwara clan, which helped local industries grow. Chest making was one of them, and most early pieces were large, plain clothing chests.

By the 1780s, things changed. The lord of Iwayado Castle wanted to reduce the region’s dependence on rice farming. So, he focused on growing the woodworking trade and developing strong lacquer techniques. This is when the craft really took shape. Makers started designing chests that weren’t just functional but smart too, like ones with hidden compartments, steps, or wheels.

Designs That Still Hold Value

In the 1820s, Iwayado craftsmen began decorating their chests with detailed metal fittings. That’s the style still admired today. After the Meiji period began in 1868, tansu became more common in regular homes. Demand went up, and more families wanted well-made chests with polished wood and handcrafted ironwork.

By the 1950s, production had started to slow down. But in recent years, interest has returned. People are once again looking for solid furniture with a clear purpose and strong craftsmanship. Iwayado tansu fits that need. These pieces are more than storage. They’re part of a long tradition of Japanese woodworking that still stands strong today.

How Iwayado Tansu Chests Are Made

Picking and Prepping the Wood

Iwayado tansu begins with choosing the right timber. Craftsmen usually work with zelkova, paulownia, or Japanese chestnut. Zelkova is especially valued for its rich grain. These trees grow in the Kitakami Mountains in eastern Iwate, and only those around 300 years old are selected. After cutting, the logs are left alone for a few years. Then they’re sliced into planks and left to dry naturally in open air for several more years. This slow drying stops the wood from cracking or warping later. Once dry, the planks are measured and cut with a plan that reduces waste as much as possible.

Joining and Assembling the Frame

The next step is shaping the pieces and joining them. This takes a lot of skill and patience. Craftsmen use traditional tools like saws and chisels to cut the joints and plane the wood smooth. Once the main body is put together, they go over the whole surface again to make sure it’s even and clean.

Building and Fitting the Drawers

Now they start making the drawers. First, they cut the joints and plane each part until everything fits tight. They assemble the outer frame and attach the bottom. Every drawer is shaped to slide perfectly into place with no gaps or warping. This is one of the most detailed parts of the whole job.

Lacquering the Surface

After that, the chest gets coated with lacquer. This protects the wood and brings out its grain. It also adds depth and shine. There are two main types of lacquer finishes. One is called fukiurushi, where the craftsman brushes on the lacquer and polishes it with cloth, repeating the steps many times. The other is kijiro-nuri, which uses polishing powder and whetstones to smooth the surface between coats. Each coat of lacquer is applied, dried, then smoothed again. Layer by layer, the wood takes on a clear, glossy finish that shows off its natural color.

Designing the Metal Fittings

Next comes the metalwork. There are two kinds of fittings used: hand-engraved plates and Nambu ironware. For engraved fittings, a traditional design is glued onto a coated iron or copper sheet. Designs usually show dragons, lions, or flowing arabesque patterns. These patterns have been passed down for generations. Nambu ironware, on the other hand, is made by pouring hot iron into molds. This method has been used in the region for over 800 years.

Engraving the Patterns

The design on each plate is carved by striking a chisel from the back. This forces the pattern to appear on the front, almost like a raised image.

Adding Depth with Embossing

After engraving, the craftsman hammers the back of the metal again to make the design pop out even more. This adds a sculpted, 3D effect. Then the fittings are cut, filed, treated to resist rust, and finished with color.

Final Assembly and Detail

Once the wood is lacquered and the fittings are ready, the last step is putting it all together. Handles and plates are attached by hand. Every part has to line up perfectly. When it's done, what you have isn’t just a chest. It’s a solid, long-lasting piece of craftsmanship made with care from start to finish. Each step, from cutting the tree to hammering the final fitting, shows the skill and dedication of the makers.

 

3. Kaba cherrybark woodcrafts

Kaba cherrybark woodcrafts, known as Kaba zaiku in Japanese, come from the former town of Kakunodate in Akita Prefecture. Even though the word kaba usually means birch, in this case it refers to the bark of wild cherry trees. Akita is the only place in Japan where this unique technique has survived, making these woodcrafts a rare and respected tradition across the country.

Why Cherrybark Matters in Japanese Woodcraft

What sets Kaba cherrybark apart is its natural strength and its ability to handle moisture well. It keeps water out when needed, but also absorbs it when the air is dry. The bark has a smooth texture, deep tones, and quiet shine that make it perfect for making beautiful, long-lasting pieces. Crafts made from Kaba cherrybark are small, light, and easy to carry, which is why they’re often bought as souvenirs. Tea-related items like caddies, scoops, and saucers are common, but you’ll also find gifts like storage boxes, flower vases, keychains, and handmade accessories like barrettes, brooches, and pendants.

Traditional Techniques Behind Every Piece

There are three main ways artisans shape these cherrybark crafts: katamono, kijimono, and tatamimono. Katamono is used to make rounded objects like tea caddies. Thin sheets of wood and bark are wrapped around a wooden mold, then pressed and sealed with a heated tool. Kijimono is the method used for square or box-shaped items, where bark is glued straight onto the surface of the wood. Tatamimono is the newest of the three. It involves layering and polishing the bark to create thicker material, which is then carved into shape. This method allows for more complex and creative designs.

A Craft That Began With the Samurai

Kaba zaiku has been around since the late 1700s. It started between 1781 and 1788 when a samurai named Hikoroku Fujimura brought the technique from the Ani region to Kakunodate. At first, it was a side job for low-ranking samurai who needed extra income. But when the local ruling family, the Satakekita clan, saw its potential, they pushed for more production and helped turn it into a full industry. Back then, most of the items made were small accessories like netsuke and pouches for carrying seals, medicine, or tobacco. These were often given as gifts when feudal lords traveled to Edo, now known as Tokyo.

From Samurai Hands to Skilled Artisans

During the Meiji era, from 1868 to 1912, many samurai lost their social status and jobs. A lot of them turned to Kaba cherrybark woodcrafts to make a living. As more people began crafting, tools got better, techniques improved, and strong wholesalers helped grow the business into something steady and reliable. Muneyoshi Yanagi, a key figure in Japan’s folk craft movement, worked with master craftsmen during the 20th century to raise the quality and artistic value of the work even further. The tatamimono technique, now a major part of the craft, was added around 1965. And in 1976, Kaba cherrybark woodcraft became the first in Akita Prefecture to be officially named a traditional craft. Ever since, the skills have been passed down carefully. Today, the craft continues to grow, with new designs made to match how people live now.

Kaba Zaiku Today: Blending Tradition with Modern Life

Kaba cherrybark woodcraft is more than just a local tradition. It’s a living art form. Even now, artisans in Akita keep refining the work, finding ways to keep it relevant while holding onto the original techniques. From old samurai roots to today’s handmade home goods and gifts, Kaba zaiku has earned its place as one of Japan’s most valued forms of craftsmanship.

How Kaba Cherrybark Woodcrafts Are Made

The process behind Kaba cherrybark woodcrafts is long, careful, and deeply tied to the seasons. Every step is done by hand, using skills passed down for generations. From choosing the right tree to the final polish, each move matters.

Stripping the Bark from Wild Cherry Trees

The work starts in late summer, around August and September. Craftsmen pick wild cherry trees that are healthy and full of water. These trees need to be strong enough to survive harsh winters. The bark from older trees is especially valued because it looks better, thanks to years of wind and snow.

Using a special blade, the artisan cuts a clean line about 30 centimeters long. The bark is then peeled off gently so the tree can stay alive and keep growing. Only certain sections are stripped. That way, the tree can grow new bark, called "second-time bark," which is even more prized. Once peeled, the bark is left to dry in the workshop rafters. It stays there for about two years before anyone works with it.

Shaving and Preparing the Bark

Once the bark is ready, it gets sorted into twelve grades. The best bark looks like crepe cloth. It has a nice shine, thin vertical cracks, or a deep amber tone.

To make something like a tea caddy, the artisan picks a piece of bark and cuts it down to size. It’s softened with water, then pressed with a heated trowel to fix any curling. After that, a sharp carving knife is used to shave the surface. This step makes the bark thinner and brings out its natural shine.

Applying Glue and Letting It Set

Once the bark is shaved, glue is brushed on the back. The bark is then left to dry again before shaping begins.

Curling the Bark into Shape

The next step is curling. The bark is wrapped around a wooden model. A heated trowel helps press it into a clean, even tube shape. Once it holds its shape, the curled bark is taken off the model and polished.

Attaching the Bark to the Wood Base

Now comes the tricky part. The wood base that holds the shape of the item gets coated with glue. But not just any glue. Synthetic glue creases the bark, so artisans use animal glue warmed over a fire. A heated trowel spreads the glue evenly. This step is hard to master. The heat has to be just right, or the bark can burn or wrinkle. Every Kaba workshop keeps a fire going for this reason, just to keep the glue and tools warm.

Making the Top and Bottom Parts

After the body is finished, the craftsman makes the top and bottom pieces. These are fitted to the curved shape with small blades and a hand plane. The bark is glued on the same way as before, with animal glue and a hot trowel. First, the lid is finished, then the bottom.

Final Polishing for Shine and Depth

The last step is polishing. Artisans use natural materials like dried scouring rush or muku leaves to polish the bark over and over again. After that, polishing powder is added for extra shine. A little bit of oil is rubbed in, then everything is buffed with a cloth. This brings out the deep color and smooth shine of the cherrybark. No paint is used. It’s all natural. The final product holds the true look and feel of wild cherry trees, shaped into something useful and beautiful.

 

4. Odate bentwood

Odate bentwood, also called Odate mage-wappa, is a traditional woodcraft from Odate city in Akita Prefecture. This craft is known for its clean curves and light weight. People in Japan and overseas recognize it right away. Each piece is made using Akita cedar, which has a smooth grain and a soft feel. The wood gently absorbs moisture and helps keep rice fresh when stored in a bentwood lunch box or rice tub. Even plain shapes look refined thanks to the natural look of the cedar.

Why Odate Bentwood Is Special

Akita cedar isn’t just pretty to look at. It’s functional too. It controls moisture naturally, which is great for storing food. That’s why many people choose mage-wappa lunch boxes over plastic or metal ones. When you open one, the rice smells clean, and the taste stays just right.

Because the material is natural, it needs care. You can’t treat it the way you’d treat plastic. You should rinse it with warm water. No harsh soap. No scrubbing pads. No hot water. Dry it right after washing with a soft cloth. Store it in a place with good airflow, and keep it out of direct sunlight. If you follow these simple steps, your bentwood items can last for many years.

Over time, Odate mage-wappa has expanded beyond lunch boxes. Now you’ll find trays, bowls, and coffee cups too. These pieces work well in modern homes and appeal to people of all ages who want everyday items made from natural materials.

The History Behind Odate Mage-Wappa

The roots of this craft go back over 1,200 years. It likely started in the Nara period, when local woodsmen made simple containers by bending cedar strips. Archaeological digs at Heian period sites have uncovered containers that seem to match this technique.

In 1600, after the Battle of Sekigahara, the Satake clan was forced to move to Odate Castle. The Tokugawa shogunate gave them land in today’s Akita. At the time, many people near the castle were poor and hungry. The local lord needed a way to support them. So he turned to the forests.

Instead of paying land taxes with rice, farmers were told to bring cedar timber. The wood was abundant and valuable. Lower-ranked samurai were told to help by making mage-wappa goods. Finished pieces were sold to nearby regions, spreading the craft across northwestern Japan.

How Mage-Wappa Is Made

The method hasn’t changed much over the centuries. First, craftsmen peel Akita cedar into thin sheets. Then they soak the wood in hot water to make it flexible. Once soft, they bend it into shape and sew the ends together with wild cherry bark. Every part of the process uses only natural materials. That’s part of what makes these pieces so appealing.

In more recent decades, mage-wappa production slowed down. Cheaper lunch boxes made of aluminum, stainless steel, and plastic became more common. But in recent years, demand has started to return. That’s because more people are paying attention to food safety and environmental impact.

Akita cedar has anti-bacterial qualities. That matters to parents who want safe containers for their kids. It also matters to people who care about using sustainable, chemical-free products in their homes. More people now look for handcrafted items with real heritage. And that’s exactly what Odate mage-wappa offers.

This craft is more than just tradition. It’s practical, clean, and beautiful. Whether it’s for everyday use or a thoughtful gift, mage-wappa continues to prove its worth in the modern world.

How Mage-Wappa Is Made: The Full Production Process from Akita Cedar to Finished Craft

Making mage-wappa starts with choosing the right wood. It’s a slow, detailed process. Every step matters. From cutting the logs to finishing the final product, the goal is to bring out the best in natural Akita cedar. Here's how it all comes together.

Choosing and Preparing the Cedar

Craftsmen only use mature Akita cedar trees that meet strict quality standards. After logging, the wood is left to dry for years. This long drying time is important. It reduces moisture and brings out the natural grain. Once the logs are dry, each one is checked by hand. Every log is different, and choosing the right section takes skill.

The logs are then cut into quarters. From there, thin planks are sliced along the grain. These planks are shaped further into even thinner strips. The size and shape of each strip depends on the product it’s meant for. Both ends of each strip must fit together cleanly after bending, so they’re trimmed carefully to match the size of the item being made.

Soaking and Boiling the Wood

Next, the cedar strips are soaked in cold water overnight. This helps prepare them for the next step. After soaking, the wood is boiled for about fifteen minutes. Getting the water temperature just right is key. If it’s too hot or too cool, the wood won’t bend properly. Boiling softens the wood so it can be shaped without cracking.

Forming the Signature Curve

Once soft, the cedar strips are bent into shape. There are two ways to do this. One way is to wrap the warm strip around a round form to shape the curve. Another way is to place the strip into a tool called a goro, then roll it to form a smooth bend before wrapping it around a mold. Either way, this step gives mage-wappa its distinct round shape.

Drying, Gluing, and Cherry Bark Stitching

After bending, the curved wood is held in place with wooden clamps and left to dry for two full days. When it’s fully dry, the ends are trimmed and shaped to fit together. A thin layer of glue is applied to the joint. The ends are clamped again for about three hours to let the glue set.

Then comes the cherry bark stitching. Thin strips of tanned wild cherry bark are used to stitch the joint together. This step isn’t just for strength. It’s where each craftsperson shows their skill and attention to detail. The joint is then sanded smooth to match the rest of the surface.

Adding the Base and Final Touches

The last step is fitting the base. This part takes steady hands and focus. A small groove is cut into the inner wall of the bentwood ring. The base is checked, glued, and carefully placed into the groove. Any extra glue is wiped off, and the piece is left to dry completely.

At this stage, plain mage-wappa is done. But some pieces are given an extra finish. These are coated with persimmon tannin, then finished with clear Japanese lacquer. This creates a caramel-colored look called shibaki, which highlights the natural grain while adding extra protection.

Each step in the process brings out the quality and beauty of the wood. That’s what makes every mage-wappa item feel one of a kind.

 

5. Inami wood carvings

Inami wood carving, or Inami chokoku, comes from Nanto in Toyama Prefecture. These carvings are best known for their use in transoms, decorative art pieces, and single-panel standing screens. They’re usually made from camphor, paulownia, or zelkova wood. The subjects range from natural scenes to animals, dragons, and people. Every piece feels alive. That’s the skill level we’re dealing with here. The carvings aren’t flat. They’re three-dimensional and full of movement.

The carving process is intense. Master artisans use more than two hundred types of chisels and knives. They don’t just carve the front. They carve both sides. This technique is called sukashi-fukabori. It’s detailed work that adds depth and shape to the final piece. If someone looks up at a carved transom between two rooms, the view has layers. The angle is considered. The shadows are intentional. The shapes are balanced. Look at a carved dragon from Inami, and it feels like it could break free and fly out of the wood.

Over the years, Inami artists have kept the tradition going but also taken it further. Some now carve dragons and lions into electric guitars and basses. So the tradition doesn’t sit still. It keeps adapting. It finds new ground. Since 1991, Nanto has hosted the Inami International Wooden Sculpture Camp. This is Japan’s biggest event for wood carving. Artists come from a dozen different countries to take part. The festival has helped bring global attention to Inami’s craft.

The Roots of Inami Wood Carving

Nanto used to be called Inami. That’s where it all started. The roots of Inami wood carving go back to the 1750s. Skilled carpenters already lived in the area. But wood carving itself took off when they rebuilt the worship hall at Zuisen-ji Temple. A master carver named Sanshiro Maekawa came from Kyoto to lead the project. He worked for the Hongan-ji Temple and brought serious carving skills with him. Locals trained under him, including a carpenter named Shichizaemon IX.

In 1792, Shichizaemon IX carved the Chrysanthemum Doors at the Chokushi-mon gate of Zuisen-ji. He also made the lion pillars that stand on each side. These two pieces are still considered some of the finest examples of Japanese wood carving. During the Edo period, most wood carving work in Inami was done for temples. But that started to change.

In the Meiji period, from 1868 to 1912, the craft grew beyond religious sites. Because the carvers had developed such strong technical and creative skills, many of them stopped general carpentry work. They became full-time woodcarvers. The focus expanded. Temple carvings led to decorative features in private homes. Demand grew. So did recognition.

In 1914, an Inami woodcarver named Goun Oshima entered a carved transom called Transom for a Library into the Panama–Pacific International Exposition in San Francisco. He won an honorary gold prize. By then, Inami carvers had started training apprentices in large numbers. The skills were being passed on fast.

In 1947, a formal training school opened. That move helped preserve the tradition. Carving methods have been handed down ever since. Today, Inami wood carving remains one of Japan’s most respected forms of craftsmanship. It’s not just about tradition. It’s about keeping the work alive by pushing the boundaries without letting the quality slip.

How Inami Wood Carvings Are Made: Step-by-Step Craftsmanship

Designing the Layout

The process starts with picking the right wood. Carvers use Japanese camphor, paulownia, or zelkova, depending on the kind of piece they’re making. If the wood still holds a lot of moisture, it gets left to dry naturally. This can take six months to a year. Once it’s dry enough, it’s cut down to the right size.

Next comes the design. Artists draw it with charcoal on washi paper, a strong traditional Japanese paper. They don’t draw straight on the wood because the lines would vanish once carving starts. Instead, the design gets transferred onto the wood surface for better accuracy and visibility during carving.

Initial Cut

After the design is set on the wood, the carver uses a fretsaw. This tool has a thin, vertical blade. It’s used to remove large unwanted areas and outline the general shape. This is the first rough stage of cutting.

Forming the Basic Shape

At this point, the rough shaping begins. The artisan grabs around fifteen types of chisels, along with hammers and carving knives. These tools help block out the main form of the piece. Once the rough shape is in place, the wood gets dried again for about a month. This drying helps prevent warping and cracking later on.

Deep Carving for Dimension

Now the carver gets to the heart of the work. They use up to seventy chisels to carve in deep, shaping the design more fully. These tools add depth and bring life into the form. To carve the finer layers and details, the artist might use as many as two hundred chisels made for this specific stage.

Inami carving is three-dimensional and carved from both the front and back. So, the rough and fine carving isn’t just done on one side. Once the front is shaped, the carver flips the piece and works on the back. A mirror helps reflect the reverse side, so they can line everything up through the open parts. This careful back-and-forth keeps both sides balanced and precise.

Final Detailing and Finish

After all the shaping is done, the surface still isn’t smooth. There are uneven areas that need to be cleaned up. But instead of using sandpaper, the carver smooths the wood with different finishing chisels and small hand planes. These tools help refine every curve and detail.

Once the shape is sharp and clean, any color or decoration is added. Then the piece goes through a final check. The carver inspects it closely, making sure everything looks right. Any small flaws get fixed. Only when everything’s perfect is the carving considered complete.

 

6. Matsumoto furniture

Matsumoto furniture, or Matsumoto kagu, comes from the city of Matsumoto in Nagano Prefecture. It's a traditional Japanese furniture style that’s been around since the 1600s, starting in the Edo period. This craft has been practiced for more than three hundred years. It had a pause during World War II, but later came back in a new form, mixing Japanese tradition with Western techniques. That blend is what gives Matsumoto furniture its unique character today.

What Makes Matsumoto Furniture Stand Out

Matsumoto furniture is known for its solid quality and simple elegance. It’s made from natural Japanese woods like cherry birch, zelkova, oak, and chestnut. The way these woods are handled is part of what makes this furniture special. Skilled artisans saw, shape, join, and lacquer each piece by hand.

One key feature is the traditional joinery technique called kumite-tsugite. This method doesn’t rely on nails or screws. Instead, pieces of wood are fitted together with precision, creating strong and seamless joints. This makes every item both durable and visually clean.

Over time, the surface of the wood changes slightly with regular use. The texture grows smoother, and the color deepens. That warm, worn-in look is something many people value. It gives Matsumoto furniture a sense of comfort and connection. Even now, it’s not just seen as decor but as something to live with and enjoy every day.

From Local Craft to National Recognition

Although the craft began in Matsumoto around the mid-1500s, it didn’t become common in homes until the Edo period. Later, during the Taisho era in the early 1900s, the city became well known for making traditional Japanese-style furniture.

But just before World War II, production stopped. The war disrupted the work of many artisans, and Matsumoto furniture almost disappeared.

In 1948, that changed. A man named Sanshiro Ikeda heard a speech by Muneyoshi Yanagi, a thinker who promoted folk art. Inspired by Yanagi’s words, Ikeda helped restart the local furniture industry. He brought back former craftsmen and taught them how to adapt the old methods to new styles.

Ceramic artists Shoji Hamada and Kanjiro Kawai, along with woodworker Keiichi Yasukawa, joined the effort. They passed on their skills to the next generation. In 1953, British potter Bernard Leach visited Japan and shared techniques used in making Windsor chairs. His input helped shape one of Matsumoto’s signature designs, a Japanese take on that early American classic.

Because of the combined work of these craftsmen, Matsumoto furniture came back stronger. In 1974, it became the first furniture category in Japan to be recognized as a national traditional craft. That label came from what was then called the Ministry of International Trade and Industry.

The Legacy and Its Place Today

Today, Matsumoto furniture has grown far beyond its early roots. There are now more than a thousand known designs. Each one carries a piece of history and a touch of modern design. That mix of the old and the new is what keeps people coming back to it.

Collectors and everyday buyers both appreciate Matsumoto pieces for their craftsmanship and comfort. Whether it’s a hand-finished chest or a chair inspired by Western pioneers, these items offer something lasting. They're built with care, meant to be used, and made to last for generations.

How Matsumoto Furniture Is Made

Choosing the Wood

The first step in making Matsumoto furniture is picking the right wood. Craftsmen inspect each log closely. Japanese cherry birch is used the most, but they also choose oak, chestnut, and zelkova depending on the grain and strength. Each type of wood brings its own look and feel, so the choice depends on what kind of piece they’re making and how it will be used.

Drying the Timber Naturally

Once they choose the wood, it's sent to a sawmill, cut down, and stacked outside to dry. This natural drying process can take anywhere from six months to a few years. Some thicker pieces need as long as five to ten years. The wood has to lose enough moisture before it can be used. They wait until the moisture content drops below 30 percent before moving to the next step.

Drying with Heat

After air drying, the wood still needs to lose more moisture. So it goes into a kiln where it stays for about 70 to 80 hours. This brings the water content down to about 8 or 9 percent. Once it's out of the kiln, it’s left to sit for about a month. This gives it time to settle and stabilize so it won’t warp or crack after it’s turned into furniture.

Designing the Pattern

Each piece of furniture starts with a hand-drawn design. Craftsmen sketch small versions first. Then they make full-size drawings with exact details. These drawings are used to make paper templates. Each template is created with care, thinking not just about how each part will look, but also how the finished piece will fit into a room or space.

Cutting the Wood

Once the design is ready, it’s time to cut the wood. Craftsmen choose planks that match the plan. They mark them and cut them to size. Cuts are made both straight and curved, depending on the shape of the furniture. Some cuts are fine and thin. The goal is to match the design exactly while keeping the natural beauty of the wood.

Making the Metal Parts

The metal parts, like drawer pulls or decorative pieces, are made from iron or copper. They’re cut to match the paper templates, then shaped by hand using files and heat. Heating gives them color and texture, especially when combined with lacquer and floss silk. After that, they’re polished with wax until they shine.

Cutting the Joints

Matsumoto furniture uses traditional wood joints. These are cut by hand and passed down through generations. No nails or screws are used. The joints are made to fit tightly and stay strong over time. Each connection is carefully shaped to make sure it lasts.

Assembling the Piece

Before final assembly, the parts are put together loosely to check the fit. This is the moment to find and fix any problems. Mistakes can't be fixed later, so this step matters. After everything is checked and adjusted, the piece is taken apart again and put back together with glue. Any rough spots are smoothed out.

Lacquering the Surface

Once the glue sets, the furniture gets coated with lacquer. Most pieces use wiped lacquer, which is strong and holds up well over time. Each item is coated by hand, one layer at a time. It usually takes at least eight layers. This not only protects the wood but also brings out its natural grain and makes the surface shine.

Final Touches and Inspection

After the lacquer dries, the metal pieces are added. So are the turned parts, like knobs or legs, plus any drawers or doors. Everything gets tested to make sure it opens, closes, and works like it should. Once the last checks are done, the furniture is complete and ready for use.

 

7. Beppu bamboo crafts

Beppu bamboo crafts, known in Japan as Beppu take-zaiku, come from Beppu in Oita Prefecture. These pieces are made by hand using thick, strong odake bamboo that grows in the area. The whole process is traditional and done without machines. It relies on eight basic weaving styles. These patterns include shapes like crosses, hexagons, octagons, and bull's eyes. When combined, these core designs can create over two hundred different patterns.

The items made are useful in everyday life. You'll find baskets for fruit, rice, or flowers. But many newer designs appeal to modern tastes. These include stylish handbags, shopping baskets, and home decor pieces. Some are even used in interior design, like in a traditional ryokan inn recently renovated in Beppu. These crafts aren't just containers anymore. They're being used in art, fashion, and architecture.

The History Behind Beppu Take-Zaiku

This bamboo craft has roots going back over a thousand years. The Nihon Shoki, a historical text from the Nara period (710 to 794 CE), links Beppu’s bamboo weaving to Emperor Keiko. The story says that during his return from a southern Kyushu expedition, he stopped in Beppu. While there, his private chef made a rice bowl basket from local bamboo. That moment marked the first known use of Beppu bamboo for crafting.

Later, during the Muromachi period (1336 to 1573 CE), traveling merchants started using bamboo baskets to carry goods. This kickstarted a small bamboo craft trade. In the Edo period (1603 to 1868 CE), Beppu’s reputation as a top hot spring resort drew travelers from across Japan. Visitors bought these baskets as souvenirs, helping the craft gain wide popularity.

As demand grew, bamboo weaving became a steady local industry. In 1902, Beppu founded the Bamboo Basket Crafts Department at its Technical Apprentice School. That move helped sway public opinion. People began to see these works as skilled artisan products, not just souvenirs.

Recognition as a National Craft

Beppu’s bamboo tradition kept growing through the 20th century. In 1967, master weaver Shounsai Ikuno became Japan’s first Living National Treasure for bamboo crafts. His recognition sparked efforts to protect and pass down expert-level skills to future generations.

Then in 1979, the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry officially named Beppu bamboo crafts a designated traditional Japanese craft. This gave the work national status and helped preserve it. Today, you can still buy functional items made with these techniques, or collect more artistic pieces. Whether used daily or displayed as art, each piece reflects the care, history, and skill behind Beppu’s bamboo craft tradition.

How Beppu Bamboo Crafts Are Made

The process of making Beppu bamboo crafts takes time, skill, and patience. Every step matters. Each part of the process adds to the final quality. Here's how it all comes together, from harvest to finished piece.

Harvesting and Removing Oil from the Bamboo

Bamboo used in Beppu crafts is usually three to four years old. It’s harvested once it’s mature and strong. After cutting it down, the bamboo is chopped into pieces. These sections are then boiled in water with caustic soda for about fifteen minutes. This step helps remove extra oil and makes the bamboo easier to work with later.

Drying the Bamboo in the Sun

Once it’s boiled, the bamboo gets spread out under the sun. As it dries, it slowly turns into a pale ivory yellow. This color change shows it's ready. At this stage, it’s called sarashi bamboo, which means bleached bamboo. This sun-dried bamboo becomes the base material for most Beppu weavers.

Cutting the Bamboo Into Sections

After drying, the bamboo is trimmed into the right lengths. Any joints or nodes are removed. Then, each piece is split in half along the grain. The same cut is repeated again and again, breaking it down into narrower strips. Though it looks simple, cutting evenly and thin takes serious skill. Most weavers need at least three years of training to do it well.

Stripping the Soft Inside Layer

Next, the soft inner part of each bamboo strip is removed. Then the strips are broken down even further. This happens in stages: rough stripping, fine splitting, then light shaving. During rough stripping, the goal is to keep about 40 percent of the outer skin and 60 percent of the inner material. This balance gives the strip the right strength and texture for weaving.

Smoothing and Shaping the Strips

To make the strips smooth and even, a tool called a sukisen is used. It helps make sure the bamboo has a steady thickness. Then, the strips are pulled between two sharp blades to give them a consistent width. Their edges are rounded off with a chamfer knife to get them ready for weaving.

Weaving the Base of the Basket

The base is the most technical part of the whole weave. It’s the foundation, so it has to be strong. Turning a flat surface into a firm bottom takes a lot of control. To help with shaping, the bamboo is softened with heat over a flame.

Weaving the Main Body

Once the base is done, the body of the item is woven in one full piece. The weaver picks a style based on what the item is used for. Different designs, spacings, and patterns are chosen depending on whether the piece will be decorative or used for holding items.

Finishing the Rim and Attaching Handles

After the body is finished, the rim is added. This step completes the weave. There are several ways to finish the rim. Sometimes, the rim is a clean continuation of the main weave. Other times, a thicker strip or even wire is used to seal it off. Japanese wisteria is also sometimes wrapped around the rim for decoration. Green or ivory-colored pieces aren’t usually dyed or coated. Once the rim and handles are attached, those pieces are ready to go.

Dyeing and Lacquer Coating

For some pieces, a finish is added. This can involve dyeing the item first, then boiling and drying it. After that, the piece is gently polished with a cloth. The goal is to bring out a clean shine without damaging the bamboo. If too much pressure is used, it can leave marks or dull the surface.

Many weavers use raw lacquer to seal their work. Some prefer a colored lacquer or thicker coat to create an aged, antique effect. Lacquer takes time to cure and only dries properly under certain heat and humidity. That’s why finished items are left in a special wooden room that locks in moisture. Some pieces may also be painted or decorated further before they’re done and ready to use.

 

8. Edo wood joinery

Edo sashimono is a traditional style of Japanese woodworking that comes from Tokyo. It uses hand-cut joints, mostly dovetails, and doesn't rely on nails or screws. Everything is measured carefully using a tool called a monosashi, which is a type of wooden ruler used in carpentry.

This craft focuses on clean lines, subtle design, and simple lacquer work. The idea is to highlight the natural patterns in the wood. Craftsmen often use woods like mulberry, zelkova, and paulownia because of their unique grain and natural beauty.

How It’s Different From Kyoto Joinery

While Kyoto-style sashimono was known for refined tea chests used by nobles and the Imperial Court, Edo sashimono was made for everyday use. Samurai families, local merchants, and kabuki actors were the main buyers. The designs were still elegant, but they were also practical. To show off skill and finesse, builders sometimes used thin, lightweight boards. This made the furniture look smart and polished, not bulky or rustic.

One of the most impressive parts of Edo joinery is how hidden the joints are. From the outside, you barely notice them. Even though the pieces look delicate, they’re tough and made to last for generations.

Where It Comes From

Edo joinery has deep roots. It developed from Kyoto-style woodworking that began during the Heian period, between 794 and 1185 CE. Back then, skilled woodworkers were already building furniture for the royal court and aristocrats.

In the Muromachi period, which ran from 1336 to 1573, carpentry got more advanced. Professional furniture makers began to specialize. They built items like drawers, cabinets, and storage boxes for tea tools, which were important in the tea ceremony culture called chanoyu. This Kyoto-based craft grew as the tea ceremony became more popular.

Another related style is Osaka karaki sashimono. It came from Chinese wood joinery, brought to Japan by missions that visited the Tang dynasty between 618 and 907 CE.

How Edo Joinery Took Off

Edo wood joinery really started to grow during the Edo period, from 1603 to 1868. When the Tokugawa shogunate took power, they moved skilled workers from all over Japan to the new capital, Edo. These workers set up craft neighborhoods that focused on different trades like blacksmithing, dyeing, and carpentry.

As time went on, demand for handmade goods increased. The work got more specialized. Cabinet makers started to branch off from temple builders and door makers, creating a profession of their own. That’s when Edo sashimono started to become more distinct.

Why It Still Matters

Edo wood joinery didn’t fade away. It adapted over time while sticking to the old techniques. In 1997, it was officially recognized as a Traditional Woodwork Craft by Japan’s Minister of Economy, Trade and Industry. Even now, it’s valued for its quiet beauty, strong build, and attention to detail.

How Edo Sashimono Is Made

Drying the Wood

The process starts with getting the right wood. Craftsmen don’t buy from regular lumberyards. They source high-grade mulberry, zelkova, paulownia, or cedar from timber dealers who specialize in decorative wood. The logs arrive at the workshop, where they’re sliced into different sizes and thicknesses. Then they're stacked outdoors and left to dry naturally. This slow drying is key. It protects the grain and prevents warping later.

Cutting and Prepping the Timber

Once the wood is dry, it’s cut with care. The way each board is sliced depends on how to bring out the grain’s best features. The woodworker studies the natural pattern and decides the angle and cut to show it off. They use a line gauge and ruler to measure thickness, then shave or plane the wood down to the exact size needed for the piece.

Creating the Joints

Next, the joinery work begins. This part takes time and serious precision. Each board is planed until the dimensions are exact. Then, dovetail joints are marked and carved using a chisel. The cuts have to be perfect. If they’re even a little off, the pieces won’t fit. In Edo sashimono, how well the joints are made defines the skill level. The joints should be tight and invisible when the piece is done.

Fitting It Together

Once the joints are cut, the whole piece is put together temporarily. This test run helps make sure every dovetail fits exactly right and locks firmly in place. After checking every angle, the piece is taken apart. Glue is brushed onto the joints, and the pieces are tapped together by hand. A hammer may be used to make sure the fit is solid and tight.

Smoothing and Polishing

After the final assembly, the outside is finished. The surface is smoothed with a hand plane, and the craftsman runs their fingers across the wood to check for any scratches or rough patches. The edges are rounded off. Then the surface is polished using either sandpaper or scouring rush, a plant used in traditional finishing. The entire piece is inspected again before moving on.

Lacquering and Adding Hardware

In the last stage, lacquer is applied. If the piece is big, a lacquer specialist handles it. But most of the time, the same person who did the joinery also does the lacquering. This takes a few days. Each coat is applied with a brush, and the piece must sit for a full day to dry before the next coat goes on. After all the coats are done, the final metal fittings are added to complete the work.

That’s how Edo sashimono is made: with patience, precision, and a deep respect for the wood.

 

9. Ichii woodcarvings

Ichii woodcarving, known in Japan as Ichii itto bori, is a handmade craft from Hida, a region in Gifu Prefecture. Each piece is carved from the wood of the Japanese yew tree, or ichii, which is the official tree of Gifu. The name ichii comes from a scepter made from this wood, offered to an emperor about 800 years ago. That scepter was praised for its quality and beauty, earning the title sho ichii, meaning "first rank." That honor gave the tree its name.

The Craft of Ichii Itto Bori

What makes Ichii woodcarving stand out is the way it's made. Artisans use only chisels to shape the wood. They don't paint or stain the surface. This is done to show off the natural texture and rich grain of the wood. The wood used is old, usually between 400 and 500 years old, and comes from the local Hida area.

Japanese yew has a red heartwood in the center and a white outer layer called sapwood. That mix of color gives each carving its own look. As the wood ages, its color movements, and a soft shine appears. This natural aging makes the piece even more unique over time.

Today, craftspeople still make the classic items, like netsuke (small toggles used to hang pouches from kimono sashes), tea tools, and traditional ornaments. But the craft has grown. Now you’ll also find more modern pieces like keychains, phone charms, and small accessories.

The History of Ichii Woodcarving in Hida

Ichii woodcarving started during the late Edo period, between 1603 and 1868. A man named Sukenaga Matsuda founded the craft. His family made chopsticks, so he learned how to carve early on. One day, he saw a wooden doll from Nara that was covered in thick paint. He thought the paint ruined the look of the wood and the carving. That led him to create a style that left the surface untouched and unpainted.

Matsuda focused on using ichii wood because it was easy to carve, had a glossy finish, and featured a strong grain and two-tone color. He studied the material closely and built a style around it. He started by making netsuke, and his technique quickly spread through Hida. Other skilled woodworkers picked it up and refined it.

Ichii Woodcarving Today

In 1975, Ichii woodcarving was officially recognized as a National Traditional Craft in Japan. It’s still made in the Hida region today, with methods and knowledge passed down through generations. The art has stayed true to its roots while slowly adapting to modern tastes.

Each piece of Ichii itto bori shows the maker’s skill, the beauty of old wood, and a long history of craftwork from one region of Japan.

Ichii Woodcarving: Step-by-Step Production Process

Preparing the Timber

It all starts with the wood. Artisans handpick dried ichii timber by checking the natural grain and subtle color tones. Since the wood won’t be painted, its natural look matters a lot. Only the most visually striking pieces are used. Once selected, the timber is cut down to size and given a basic shape using a power saw. Sometimes, they use a paper pattern as a guide.

Outlining the Piece

Ichii woodcarvings come in many forms, from small ornaments to masks and decorative objects. At this stage, the artisan sketches out a rough outline of the final piece, shaping it to match the planned design. This is where the vision starts to take form.

Rough Carving

The carving starts here. Most of the work is done by hand using different kinds of blades, like gouges and borers. The artisan carves the wood freely, creating the basic form. After this rough stage, the piece often sits for two to three days to dry a bit before the next step begins.

Semi-Finish Carving

This is where the shape gets more refined. Using a wide range of chisels, both big and small, the artisan works the wood more precisely. At this point, they focus hard on balance and proportion, making sure the piece feels solid and even on all sides.

Finish Carving

Now it’s down to the details. Fine lines, textures, and small features are carved with a steady hand. Every mark counts because with Ichii wood, the tool marks are never sanded away or covered up. They become part of the final look. Depending on how complex the piece is, this final carving stage can take a week or longer. The artisan’s skill really shows here.

Wax Finishing

To wrap it up, melted white wax is rubbed on and polished with a dry cloth. This wax protects the wood from dirt and cracks. It also brings out the natural oils in the wood, giving the piece a warm, soft shine. As the years go by, that shine deepens, adding more character to the carving.

 

10. Suruga bamboo crafts

Suruga bamboo ware, known in Japan as Suruga take sensuji zaiku, is a handmade craft from Shizuoka City in Shizuoka Prefecture. This region has been home to wild-growing bamboo for thousands of years, especially in the upper areas of the Abe River. That’s where the high-quality bamboo used in this craft grows naturally. People in this area have been working with bamboo since ancient times.

What makes Suruga bamboo crafts stand out is how thin the bamboo strips are. Each strip is just 0.8 millimeters wide. The word sensuji means "a thousand lines," which comes from the idea that you can fit a thousand of these fine bamboo strands on one tatami mat that's about 90 centimeters wide. Most other regions in Japan that produce bamboo goods, like Kyushu or Hokuriku, use flat bamboo strips. But Suruga craftspeople work with round strips, which gives the finished product a very different look and feel.

The process starts with bending the bamboo into fine, flexible strips. A bamboo base is drilled with tiny holes, and the strips are woven through by hand to create curved and flowing shapes. It’s all done by one person, from start to finish. They cut, shape, and assemble the entire piece on their own.

When a piece is finished, you can see the natural shine and smooth texture of the bamboo. The thin round strips give it a graceful look. It's simple, but the detail and craftsmanship stand out.

The Abe River and nearby Warashina River have been key areas for top-quality bamboo since long ago. At the Toro archaeological site in Shizuoka, bamboo baskets and strainers have been dug up, showing that bamboo tools were part of everyday life during the late Yayoi period, which ran from around 300 BCE to 250 CE.

Things changed in 1607 when Tokugawa Ieyasu moved into Sunpu Castle, right in Suruga Province. He brought many skilled workers with him, and over time, Suruga became a center for traditional crafts. That’s when the term "Suruga bamboo ware" started to catch on. In the early Edo period, woven bamboo pillows became popular, especially among feudal lords traveling between Edo and their home provinces. Written records from 1624 to 1644 show that people in the region were making bamboo hats instead of the pricier rattan ones popular in the city. Craftsmen also made cricket cages and small baskets for falconry bait.

The switch to using round strips in Suruga bamboo ware began in 1840. Ichiga Suganuma, a servant from the Okazaki domain, came to Suruga and passed his knowledge on to Inobei Shimizu, the son of a local innkeeper. Shimizu worked on these techniques for years, improving them bit by bit until they became the refined method still used today.

Suruga bamboo ware is more than just craft. It’s a piece of history shaped by careful hands and natural materials, still made the old way in modern times.

How Suruga Bamboo Ware Is Made: Step-by-Step Craftsmanship

Suruga bamboo ware isn’t mass-produced. Every piece is handmade through a careful, skilled process. Each stage takes time, patience, and a sharp eye. From cutting the raw bamboo to shaping and weaving it, here’s how it all comes together.

Choosing and Cutting the Bamboo

It starts with picking the right kind of bamboo. Craftsmen use madake, hachiku, mosochiku, or kurochiku. Each one has its own texture and color. The bamboo is measured with a ruler, then cut with a saw. It’s boiled in hot water to remove oils, then dried in the sun. That helps it harden and become more workable.

Splitting the Bamboo

Next, the bamboo is cleaned up. The surface gets shaved to remove marks and dirt. Then it’s split into strips about a centimeter wide. Because bamboo grows with long vertical fibers, it splits cleanly with a hatchet. Craftsmen keep shaving the strips thinner until they’re just right. The round strips are taken from just under the outer skin, where the bamboo is strongest and smoothest.

Setting the Thickness

To get the strips to the exact thickness needed, they’re trimmed using a tool called a sendai. This tool works like a set of sharp shears. It lets the craftsman control how thick or thin each strip should be.

Forming the Base Ring

To start building a piece, the first step is making a base ring. A metal cylinder is heated on a gas burner, and a strip of bamboo is wrapped around it. After holding it in place for around twenty seconds, the ring is cooled down and fixed in a frame to hold its shape. The ends of the strip are cut at an angle and glued together with a special adhesive. A joining method called tsugite makes the seam nearly invisible. It’s clean and strong, and it blends right into the finished ring.

Cutting Fine Strips

Now the detailed work begins. A small knife is used to make a slit in the bamboo, which is then pulled apart by hand. The tip of each strip is shaved and shaped into a fine point. This makes it easier to weave later on.

Smoothing and Rounding the Strips

To round the bamboo, the strips are pulled through a series of small holes in an iron plate. Each hole gets smaller than the last. This step smooths the surface and shapes the strip into a perfect round form. The result is a polished, even bamboo strand.

Bending Into Shape

Not all bamboo ware is made in straight lines. For pieces like flower vases or lamp shades, the strips need to be bent. About twenty to thirty strips are laid on a curved iron plate that’s heated electrically. They’re bent all at once to match the design. The iron plates come in different sizes, from two to fifteen centimeters across. If the bend isn’t smooth or consistent, the final piece won’t look right. This step takes a steady hand and plenty of experience.

Drilling the Base

Once the base ring is ready, it’s marked and drilled. Each hole is made one at a time with a machine. Changing the angle of the drill slightly changes how the piece will look once it’s woven. This small detail gives each item its unique pattern and flow.

Assembling the Final Piece

The rounded strips are placed into the drilled holes of the bamboo ring. From there, the piece slowly takes shape. Each strip is bent, woven, and adjusted by hand. The curves and lines are what Suruga bamboo ware is known for. It’s delicate work, and each piece reflects the time, focus, and tradition behind it.

 

11. Edo bamboo fishing rods

Edo bamboo fishing rods, known as Edo wazao, are handmade in Japan’s Kanto region. Most come from Tokyo, Chiba, and Saitama. Despite the name, these rods aren’t called “Edo” because they’re made in old Tokyo. They’re named after the Edo-era craftsmen who passed down this tradition.

These rods are made from several kinds of bamboo. Each bamboo type adds something different to the rod. Craftsmen use combinations like hoteitake, yadake, hachiku, and madake to build rods that match different kinds of fish, water depths, and fishing styles. Whether you’re fishing in rivers or shallow bays, there’s a specific rod that fits the job.

The rods are built in jointed sections. This isn’t just for portability. If one part breaks, you don’t have to throw away the whole rod. You just replace that section. That makes these rods long-lasting. They’re coated in natural lacquer, which protects the bamboo and gives it a polished, rich finish. Over time, this finish helped turn the rods into more than just tools. They became art.

During the Edo period, between 1603 and 1868, fishing was a favorite pastime among Japan’s feudal lords. These men weren’t just fishing for sport; they were competing. They showed off rods with intricate, custom designs. As a result, workshops started to add their own signature touches. The rods became more decorative and unique, and every detail mattered.

Taking care of an Edo wazao is pretty easy. After use, wipe off any dirt or water, polish it with a dry cloth, and let it dry in the shade. That’s it. If treated well, these rods will last decades. They’re light, tough, and easy to handle.

The technique behind these jointed rods was developed in the mid-Edo period. In 1788, a craftsman named Taichiya Tosaku opened a shop near Kotokuji Temple in Ueno, Tokyo. His shop became the heart of the tradition. His apprentices went on to open their own shops, and today’s wazao makers can trace their roots back to him.

Fishing was always a part of life in Edo. The city had a shallow bay and lots of good rivers. Locals loved to fish. In May and June, during whiting season, you’d see people on step ladders out in the shallows with their rods. Every season brought different fish, which meant new challenges. That pushed rod makers to keep coming up with new designs.

At first, lacquer was used to make the rods more durable. But the glossy finish looked so good that makers started adding more decoration. By the end of the Edo period, these bamboo rods had become serious pieces of craftsmanship. Between the 1930s and late 1940s, some workshops tried Western-style designs to attract new customers.

After World War II, when foreign occupation forces were in Japan, these rods became popular souvenirs. That led to a boom in production. But by the time fiberglass and carbon rods came along, things changed. People wanted modern materials. Traditional workshops started to close. Fewer people were learning the trade.

Even so, handmade Edo bamboo rods still have a following. Today, more anglers and collectors are recognizing their beauty and craftsmanship. These rods aren't just fishing gear. They're living pieces of Japanese history.

How Edo Bamboo Fishing Rods Are Made

Drying Bamboo in the Sun

Edo bamboo fishing rods use more than ten different bamboo types, including yadake, hoteitake, hachiku, and madake. Craftsmen start by stripping off the outer layer and removing the natural oils. Then they lay the bamboo out under the sun to dry. This process lasts from one to three months, depending on the bamboo. The sun helps toughen and cure each piece before shaping begins.

Cutting and Matching Bamboo Pieces

Each rod is built with a clear purpose in mind. The maker considers what kind of fish it's for, how it will be used, and the water conditions. Then they pick the right kinds of bamboo and cut them down to size. The rod’s length, structure, joint types, and balance all depend on the mix of bamboo. Every cut is measured. Every pairing is chosen for strength, weight, and feel.

Heating and Straightening

Each bamboo piece gets slowly warmed over charcoal. The heat pulls more oil out, which gets wiped off as it seeps out. The bamboo turns a warm golden brown during this step. As it heats, the moisture inside evaporates, which makes the bamboo lighter and tougher. Curves are corrected using a wooden tool. Every bamboo type needs a different amount of heat and time to dry properly. If it’s overdone, the bamboo weakens. If it’s underdone, it stays soft. This step takes patience and experience.

Shaving and Wrapping with Thread

To fit the bamboo pieces together, the craftsman shaves down the joints and nodes. Then they coat these parts in lacquer and wrap them tightly with silk thread. This step helps stop cracks and holds the joints firm. While turning the bamboo in one hand, the other hand pulls the thread tight. There can’t be any space or slack. Once the thread is in place, animal glue gets brushed on. A tool is used to press the thread down and lock it in. Then an undercoat of lacquer is added. Every section of the rod goes through this same process.

Connecting the Sections

Once all pieces are prepped, they get joined together. Most rods use either a ferrule joint or a telescopic joint. In a ferrule joint, one end is carved into a spigot. The other side is hollowed to form a socket, so they fit snugly. A telescopic joint needs more strength, especially for thinner bamboo. So, a solid yadake core is inserted to reinforce it. These joints are made to be strong, but they also need to be flexible and silent during casting. No looseness. No rattling.

Final Touches Before Lacquer

Before the final coats, small fittings are added. This includes the end plug and the tip that hooks the fish. These details help finish the rod’s form and keep all parts in place.

Final Straightening

Once the rod is fully assembled, the maker checks and adjusts it again. Any slight curve is fixed, so the rod stays straight and balanced.

Applying the Lacquer

Lacquer gives each rod its look and protects the bamboo. The craftsman filters the lacquer through Japanese paper to get rid of any dust or impurities. It’s then brushed on carefully, especially around the joints and the tip. The color and design here let each maker show their personal style.

Wipe Lacquering by Hand

This is a key step in the Edo wazao style. The lacquer is applied by hand while the rod is slowly turned. The maker rubs the lacquer on with their fingers, then wipes it right off. The rod is left to dry in a controlled room. This is repeated multiple times to build up layers and give it a deep, smooth finish.

Final Check and Finish

At the end, the craftsman goes over the whole rod. They fix any flaws and make sure every part is clean and tight. Oil is rubbed onto the joint, then wiped away, and one last lacquer coat is added and wiped off. After that, the rod is done. It’s ready to be used, or handed down, or admired for the craft that went into every part.

 

12. Kishu bamboo fishing rods

In Hashimoto, a quiet city in Wakayama Prefecture, fishing for Japanese crucian carp has a long tradition. The craft of making Kishu bamboo fishing rods, known locally as Kishu herazao, was born here. These rods are still handmade today, using local bamboo varieties that have grown in the area for generations.

Why Hashimoto Became a Hub for Bamboo Rods

Hashimoto sits at the base of Mount Koya. This region is rich in bamboo like suzutake, madake, and yadake. Yadake grows in large numbers here, while nearby areas are known for suzutake. So, it made sense that locals would start turning this strong, flexible bamboo into tools for catching carp. The demand for sturdy, well-made fishing rods grew, and this became a local specialty.

The Process Behind Every Kishu Herazao

Making one rod takes time and care. Artisans cut the bamboo, then let it dry for years. Only the best pieces make the cut. Each rod passes through about 130 different stages, all done by hand. One craftsman handles the entire process from start to finish.

The rods are known for their thick, lacquered handles that shine with color and detail. They use a jointing method called namitsugi that keeps the rod from snapping under pressure. Each rod has three to five bamboo pieces, each about ninety centimeters long. Even though these rods look refined, they need to be tough. Catching crucian carp can put serious pressure on the rod, so both strength and flexibility matter.

It takes about six months to make one rod. These are high-end tools, not just for function but for their beauty too.

From Sea Bream Rods to Kishu Carp Rods: The Origins

The modern techniques used in Kishu bamboo rods began in 1882. Shoji Mizoguchi, known by his signature name Saosho I, was a rod maker in Osaka. He specialized in sea bream rods and invented a way to split and shape madake, a hard bamboo that’s tough to work with.

His son, Shonosuke Mizoguchi (Saosho II), began learning the trade in 1907. One day, he noticed thin bamboo strips used in kimono washing to keep the fabric from shrinking. That gave him an idea. He started applying the same shaping method to the tips of fishing rods, improving their balance and response.

A young apprentice named Goro Tsubaki (Saogoro) built on this. He created a rod design that used suzutake with tightly spaced nodes for the rod's middle section. That gave it extra strength and resilience.

The Craft Spreads Back to Hashimoto

Mitsuo Kojima (Shiko), a student of Saogoro, went back to Hashimoto in 1931. Three years later, Iwayoshi Yamada (Genkanshi) joined him. Both became independent makers, and their skills helped revive and grow the craft in the city.

Since then, the methods and knowledge have been passed down directly from one artisan to the next. It's a long chain of teachers and students, each one refining what came before.

Handcrafted Tradition With Timeless Skill

Kishu bamboo rods aren’t just fishing gear. They represent a slow, careful way of making things that takes years to master. Every rod comes from the land, shaped by hand, and holds the legacy of the people who built this craft from the ground up. From the mountain bamboo to the workshop bench, each piece tells a story.

How Kishu Bamboo Fishing Rods Are Made

Drying the Bamboo

The process starts with cutting three kinds of bamboo: suzutake, madake, and yadake. This happens between October and December. After cutting, the bamboo is laid out in the sun until April. This prevents mold and insect damage during the warmer months. Once dried, the bamboo is moved into a well-aired room for storage. Some of it sits for up to three years before it gets used. The long drying time helps harden the material and improve quality.

Choosing the Bamboo Sections

A standard rod is usually made of three or four parts. The tip is soft madake. The middle is strong suzutake. The handle is tough yadake, the same bamboo used in Japanese archery bows. Some rods have an extra middle section, too. The maker checks each piece by hand. They look at its weight, shape, and feel to decide where it fits. Since bamboo isn’t uniform, every rod comes out a little different. The maker works with the natural shape to create a balanced tool.

Heating and Straightening

Next, each piece is placed in a charcoal fire to soften. Once hot, the bamboo is pressed through a hardwood groove, usually made from oak, cherry, or chestnut. This flattens and straightens the piece. Heating and straightening are done three or four times. This repeated heating boosts the bamboo’s strength and flexibility.

Hollowing the Core

When not in use, these rods stay compact. But once put together, they can reach up to six meters long. To make them that way, the thicker parts are drilled out. The handle and third section get hollowed with a long drill, so the thinner tip and middle can slide inside.

Shaping the Joints

The ends of each section are carved down into smooth, rounded shapes. This allows one piece to fit snugly into the next. Each joint is shaped to match its connecting part for a tight, secure hold.

Wrapping with Silk Thread

To keep the ends from splitting, silk thread is wrapped around the ends of each section. The thread holds the bamboo together and gives added strength.

Sealing with Lacquer

The thread is coated with lacquer. After it dries, it gets polished with water and emery cloth. This is done several times. Each layer makes the rod tougher and smoother.

Joining the Parts

Once the joints are shaped and strong, a hole is drilled in the end of each section. This helps lock the parts together when the rod is assembled.

Making the Handle

The handle is made by wrapping strips of Japanese paper around the bamboo. Thread is used to hold it in place. Some rods are finished with designs at the base using traditional craftwork. These include maki-e, where silver or gold powder is used to make patterns on lacquer, and raden, where thin shell pieces are inlaid in the lacquer. This part of the rod lets the maker get creative with the design.

Forming the Tip

To make the tip, old madake bamboo is used. It needs to be at least five years old and over ten centimeters thick. The bamboo is split, glued together, and then shaved down until it’s just one millimeter wide. This part is shaped by hand using a small blade and a file.

Lacquering the Rod

Lacquer is spread by hand across the rod’s full surface. Then it’s dried and polished. This cycle repeats several times. The layers give the rod its shine and durability. It’s a long, careful process. Lacquer can also cause skin irritation, so the maker needs both patience and endurance to finish it properly.

Final Touches

At the end, all sections are fitted together. The maker makes final adjustments by heating and aligning each part. Once everything fits just right, the artisan signs the rod. That’s the last step. The rod is now complete, ready to be used or displayed.

 

13. Kamo traditional chest

Kamo Kiri Tansu are traditional chests made in Kamo, a city in Niigata Prefecture. They’re built from paulownia wood and known across Japan for their quality. Right now, most of the paulownia wood chests made in the country come from this area. These chests are used to store clothes, and they do it well. They protect against moisture, insects, fire, and even water. All of that comes down to the kind of wood used.

Paulownia wood is light, airtight, and doesn't warp. That makes it perfect for building strong, long-lasting chests. There’s an old story about a paulownia chest that got swept away in a flood. When it was found and opened, the clothes inside were still clean, even though the outside was covered in mud. That’s how tightly these chests seal. On top of that, paulownia doesn’t catch fire easily. Even if the surface burns, the heat doesn’t travel far through the wood.

In Japan’s humid climate, this kind of storage is especially useful. The wood naturally has tannin, paulonin, and sesamin. These chemicals stop bacteria and bugs from damaging the clothes inside. They also keep humidity from getting in. It’s not just practical, either. These chests have a soft, elegant look that makes them feel special. The pale bark and fine grain give them a calm, refined look. Skilled artisans still make them today, using traditional methods that have been passed down over centuries.

The history of Kamo Kiri Tansu goes back to the late 1700s. During the Tenmei era, a craftsman named Kouemon Maruya built a chest using cedar wood. That’s believed to be the starting point of this tradition. One of the oldest paulownia chests still has “Purchased in 1814” written on the back. Around 1820, craftspeople in Kamo started sending these boxes and chests down the Kamo and Shinano rivers to Niigata and parts of the Tohoku region.

By the start of the Meiji period, around 1868, Kamo chests were being sent as far as Hokkaido. The city had become a main hub for paulownia chest production. In 1877, a record called the Kamo Choshi Shiryo reported that 400 chests of drawers and 200 large clothing chests were being made that year. Later, during the early Showa period, a varnish called yashatoso was developed. It’s still used today as a final step in the finishing process, giving the wood a smooth surface and protecting it from wear.

Now, Kamo paulownia chests are shipped all over Japan. They’re still valued for their durability, natural protection, and clean, timeless design. Even in modern homes, they remain a trusted way to store clothes with care.

How Kamo Paulownia Chests Are Made: The Full Process

Everything that goes into making a Kamo chest happens right in Kamo. From cutting the tree to putting on the last metal fitting, nothing gets outsourced. That’s rare today, but it’s part of what makes these chests stand out.

Preparing the Paulownia Wood

It starts with lumber. Local sawmills handle the raw wood. Once the trees are cut, they’re left to dry for three full years. This isn’t a small job. It takes a lot of space and constant work. The timber gets rotated and laid out under the sun, wind, and rain. This helps pull out any bitterness in the wood, stops discoloration, and keeps it from warping later.

Cutting the Boards

After drying, the logs are sliced into boards. Only about a third of the wood is good enough to use, so artisans need real skill to pick the best parts. Each piece is chosen with care. They look at the grain, the texture, and how well the board will hold up. The boards are sorted and matched to different parts of the chest, always with attention to how the wood will look once it’s all put together.

Joining the Chest Together

Once the wood is ready, the pieces are joined. Craftsmen cut tight dovetail joints that make the whole frame stronger. They don’t use nails. Instead, they use wooden pegs to hold everything together. It’s a classic method that keeps the chest sturdy for decades.

Shaping Drawers and Doors

Drawers and doors are built slightly too big at first. Then they’re planed down, little by little, until they fit perfectly. There’s no room left between the frame and the drawer. This tight fit is one of the details that sets Kamo chests apart.

Finishing the Surface

After the structure is built, the next step is surface work. Artisans shave off the softer layers of wood and leave the harder ones. This helps protect the chest and brings out the texture of the grain. Then the whole piece is coated in a mix of polishing powder and extract from Japanese green alder. After that dries, wax is rubbed in, going with the grain, so the finish is smooth and even.

Adding Metal Hardware

Last comes the hardware. Craftsmen attach each metal piece by hand. Pulls, hinges, and locks are all fitted with care. These final touches don’t just add function. They give the chest a finished look and highlight the craftsmanship.

From start to finish, building a Kamo chest takes time, skill, and a deep respect for the material. It’s a full process that honors the wood and keeps a long tradition alive.

 

14. Kyo wood joinery

Kyo Sashimono is a traditional Japanese wood joinery style that comes from Kyoto. It’s known for detailed craftsmanship that doesn’t rely on nails or screws. Everything is fitted using wooden joints. The name "Sashimono" comes from the word "monosashi," which is a ruler used in woodworking. This technique has been used for centuries to build things like fine furniture, tea ceremony tools, and small turned objects made from paulownia wood.

Over five hundred different items can be made using this method. That’s thanks to the wide range of joinery techniques passed down and added to over time. The designs reflect Kyoto’s history, especially the refined court culture of the Heian period, which ran from 794 to 1185 CE. The look is clean and elegant, shaped by both tea culture and merchant life during the Edo period.

What makes Kyo Sashimono stand out is the way it blends traditions. As the years went on, artisans developed new ways to fit wood together, without throwing away the old ones. They kept adding to the craft, keeping what worked and improving what didn’t. Today’s pieces still follow that same mindset. Each item shows a mix of skill, experience, and deep respect for the past.

How Kyo Sashimono Evolved Through Japanese History

While the roots of Kyo Sashimono are tied to the Heian period, woodworking in Japan started long before that. Japan has always had dense forests, so people were already building with wood before the court culture took shape. Early Japanese woodworkers were influenced by stone and metalwork from China and Korea. They studied those styles, copied some, and then made their own by switching to wood. In the beginning, court tools like measuring rulers were the main focus.

Later, during the Muromachi period from 1336 to 1573 CE, the samurai class began to grow richer. That led to more demand for practical furniture like drawers, desks, and shelves. Wood joinery grew more advanced to keep up. Joiners became specialized craftsmen who knew how to make furniture that would last and look good.

In the Azuchi-Momoyama period, between 1574 and 1600 CE, the tea ceremony started to shape the culture. That led to even more uses for Kyo Sashimono. Craftsmen began making tools and furniture for tatami rooms and teahouses. Their designs blended the calm simplicity of tea culture with the technical needs of high-end interiors. This is when Sashimono started appearing in formal architecture like shoin-zukuri homes.

The craft really took off during the Edo period. Samurai, kabuki actors, and wealthy merchants all wanted custom wood pieces. That demand pushed the art forward and brought in even more techniques. Some were traditional. Others were new. But all were added into the fold.

Now, Kyo Sashimono has adjusted once again. Today’s craftsmen still follow the same core joinery principles, but they make modern items too. You’ll find champagne buckets, minimalist lighting, and small decor that uses classic Japanese woodwork in a sleek, updated way. The feel of real wood, and the calm design it brings, is part of why people still love it. It’s not just a look. It’s history you can hold.

How Kyo Sashimono Is Made: Step-by-Step Process

The process of making Kyo Sashimono is long and exact. It starts with wood that has been dried for years. Paulownia is the top choice for chests of drawers because it’s naturally resistant to insects, heat, and moisture. It doesn’t stain easily and has a smooth, even grain. That makes it perfect for high-end furniture that’s built to last. Here’s how a paulownia chest of drawers comes together, from raw wood to finished piece.

Preparing the Raw Wood for Joinery

Before anything is built, the wood needs to be prepared the right way. Craftsmen use trees like paulownia, cherry, pine, Japanese zelkova, cedar, and cypress. For paulownia, the logs are first stripped of bark to stop any more growth. Then they’re stacked on their sides and left out in the open air for over a year. This weathering step helps the wood stabilize. After that, the timber is cut down to rough boards and left to dry again, often for another full year. Once it’s dry enough, it’s cut to the sizes needed for the chest. Each piece is trimmed, dried again, and marked based on the final measurements of the piece being built.

How Craftsmen Straighten Warped Boards

Wood isn’t always straight. Some boards curve or twist after drying. That’s where the straightening step comes in. To fix a bent board, water is poured on the inner side of the curve. Then the outer side is warmed over a flame. This controlled mix of heat and moisture makes the board flexible. A heavy stone is placed on top and left there for twenty-four hours to hold it flat. Getting the balance right between fire, water, and pressure takes a trained eye. It’s a technique that only comes with time and hands-on skill.

Shaping and Cutting the Boards

Once the wood is dry and straight, the real shaping begins. The boards are cut down to exact sizes. This rough cutting stage gets each part ready for more detailed work. Every cut is done with care, but it’s still early in the build.

Marking the Wood to Fit Together

After the boards are trimmed, they’re marked to match the final size and layout of the furniture. Craftsmen use wooden templates and carpenter’s squares to make sure everything lines up. Instead of pencils or ink, they use a sharp blade called a shirakaki knife. It makes thin, clean lines that stay sharp through the rest of the process.

Joining the Pieces With Precision Techniques

Once the wood is marked, the next step is to join the pieces together. This part of the process is called kumitsugi. It’s what gives Kyo Sashimono its strength and seamless look. There are many kinds of joints, including two-piece, three-piece, and even five-piece styles. These aren’t just for structure. They also make the furniture more beautiful by adding pattern and depth where the pieces connect. The joints are tight, clean, and built to last without any metal parts. Each one takes careful measuring, steady hands, and real knowledge of the wood.

This mix of slow prep, expert shaping, and clean joinery is what gives Kyo Sashimono its value. Every step adds something. The time it takes shows in the final piece.

Making the Wooden Pegs by Hand

The pegs that hold Kyo Sashimono together aren’t metal. They’re made from deutzia wood, which is strong and reliable. First, the wood is cut into short blocks about twenty centimeters long. Each block is then sliced into thin boards, about four to six millimeters thick, using a nata hatchet. After that, the boards are split along the grain into small sticks, each about the size of a chopstick.

Once they’re the right width, the sticks are carved into a round shape with a knife and trimmed to the right length for pegs. Every stick usually gives about four to eight pegs. These pegs are then roasted with rice bran to pull out any moisture. Drying them like this helps keep the joints tight over time and keeps the furniture from moving.

Assembling the Chest

The glue used in Kyo Sashimono is made by mashing rice grains with a spatula until they turn into a paste. The joints are fit together by hand and glued. Then, holes are drilled through each joint using a gimlet. A little glue is added to the tip of each peg, which is then tapped into place with a hammer. The whole piece is joined without nails or screws. Once the frame is together, the drawers are checked for fit and adjusted by shaving them down with a hand plane until they slide smoothly.

Cutting and Smoothing the Final Shape

After assembly, the outside is shaped and cleaned up using a Japanese hand plane. This step smooths the joints and the surface, making sure everything lines up right. Any sharp or uneven edges are rounded to give the piece a soft, finished look.

Polishing the Surface

Once the surface is smooth, it’s polished to bring out the natural grain. Craftsmen use sandpaper and natural materials like horsetail grass or the leaves of the muku tree. These help clean the wood without damaging it. Paulownia is polished in a special way using hana-ibotaro wax. The wax is made from tree resin produced by scale insects. It’s placed in a cotton bag and rubbed over the surface to give the wood a soft sheen. This step is called the ibotaro wax wiping finish and helps protect the wood while showing off its natural color.

Adding Final Touches and Decorative Work

Once the chest is fully built and polished, it’s time for decoration. Some pieces are finished with maki-e, a technique where gold or silver powder is sprinkled over lacquered drawings. Others might include inlaid wood or hand-carved detail. Handles and metal fittings are ordered separately and attached at the end.

At this point, the Kyo Sashimono chest is done. Every step in the process, from cutting the wood to the final polish, is done with care. Each piece reflects years of skill and tradition, built to last and made to be used.

 

15. Miyakonojo archery bows

Miyakonojo bamboo bows, known in Japanese as Miyakonojo Daikyu, are made in Miyakonojo City, in the Miyazaki Prefecture of Japan. This area is famous for its strong, straight bamboo. It's been used for centuries to craft weapons, including wooden swords and long Japanese bows. Today, Miyakonojo produces nearly all of the bamboo bows used across Japan. That’s around ninety percent of the country’s total. Because of this, it’s also home to Japan’s national kyudo competition, the largest event for Japanese archery.

Miyakonojo bows are about two meters long. That extra length adds both power and better aim, which makes them highly respected among archers. The grip is wrapped in buckskin and decorated with fine, detailed patterns. These bows are valued not just for performance, but for how they look. They stand out as both high-level weapons and beautiful, traditional Japanese art.

From Battlefield Weapon to Martial Art Tradition

These bows weren’t always used for sport. They started out as battlefield weapons during Japan’s long era of civil wars, especially during the Sengoku period between 1467 and 1603. But once peace returned, archery became less about war and more about discipline. It grew into a martial art known as kyudo.

Bamboo was always easy to find in Miyakonojo, so it’s likely people there were making all sorts of bamboo tools and crafts early on. Still, no written record survives that clearly shows when bow-making started in the region. The oldest known reference comes from a document called Shonai Chiri-shi or Geography of Shonai. It was put together during the late Edo period, sometime between 1603 and 1868, by a ruling lord from the Satsuma domain. This document confirmed that bow-making in Miyakonojo was already a skilled trade by that time.

Kyudo was very popular in the Satsuma domain, which includes Miyakonojo and what’s now Kagoshima Prefecture. The demand for good bows was high, and the local government supported the craft to make sure it continued. That protection helped the region’s bow makers keep improving their work.

Zenji Kusumi and the Rise of Modern Bow Craft

When the Meiji era began in 1868, a bow maker named Zenji Kusumi brought in new building techniques from Kagoshima. His methods improved the quality and consistency of the bows, helping raise Miyakonojo’s reputation across the country. His influence pushed the craft forward and helped shape how these bows are made even today.

In 1994, the government officially recognized Miyakonojo bows as a traditional Japanese craft. That honor helped preserve the craft and pass the skills on to younger generations. The bow makers in Miyakonojo still use these methods now, keeping a strong connection to centuries of Japanese tradition.

Miyakonojo bamboo bows are more than just tools for shooting arrows. They are a part of Japan’s cultural identity. Built from local bamboo, shaped by master hands, and used in kyudo practice across the country, these bows continue to hold both practical value and deep artistic meaning.

How Miyakonojo Bamboo Bows Are Made: A Full Look at the Craft

Choosing the Right Bamboo

Each Miyakonojo bow goes through close to two hundred detailed steps, all done by a single craftsperson. It starts with picking the right bamboo. Makers choose madake, a type of Japanese timber bamboo, that’s between three and four years old. This bamboo is strong, thick, and tough enough to hold up under pressure. To build the core and both ends of the bow, they also use wood from the wax tree. Mixing bamboo with strong wood makes the bow sturdier than using bamboo by itself.

Cutting in the Right Season

The bamboo is cut during November and December. That’s when the air is cold and dry, which is perfect for cutting and curing bamboo. Once harvested, the bamboo is chopped into shorter pieces and split open. These pieces are then left out for three to four months to dry naturally.

Removing the Oil

Even after months of drying, the bamboo still holds a lot of oil. That oil has to go. It makes the bow heavy and affects how it bends. To get rid of it, each strip of bamboo is slowly heated over charcoal. As oil comes to the surface, it’s wiped off again and again. This goes on until the bamboo turns amber in color. After that, the pieces are left in the sun for a full week to dry out even more and remove any leftover stains or build-up.

Second Heating for Strength

The bamboo strips are then heated over charcoal a second time. This turns them a golden brown and helps lock in their shape. It also makes them lighter and helps stop bugs from damaging the material later.

Building the Core

To make the bow’s core, the maker stacks between three and nine layers of bamboo. If wax tree wood is being used, it’s glued to both ends of the stack. Adding more layers gives the bow more spring and flexibility. This layering process is key to how the bow performs.

Shaving for Balance

The next part focuses on the strips that go on the front and back of the bow. These strips are carefully shaved down, starting thick at the grip and getting thinner toward each end. This shaping process is what helps the bow flex and release smoothly when an arrow is fired.

Forming the End Plates

The bow has two end plates: one on the top and one on the bottom. These are called the hitaigi and the sekiita. Both pieces help hold the bowstring in place. They're made from wax tree wood and bamboo, then cut and shaped down to exact sizes.

Putting It All Together

The core, bamboo strips, and end plates are assembled and glued. Then the full bow is tightly wrapped with rope. Wedges are hammered in at each rope knot, but only on the outside edge of the curve. This forces the bow to bend the opposite way, building up tension.

Forming the Perfect Curve

The wedges stay in place while the bow sets. This reverse curve makes the bow more powerful when it snaps back into shape. Once the wedges are pulled out, the bow holds a smooth, even curve. It’s then strung with a bowstring, and the shape is checked and adjusted if needed.

Setting the Final Shape

The bow is laid flat and left strung for around ten days. This gives it time to settle into its final shape. After that, a file and sandpaper are used to carefully smooth out the surface and carve the bow into its best form.

Wrapping the Grip

To finish the grip, the craftsperson wraps it with rattan cord, then covers it with a buckskin layer. This gives it a solid feel and a clean look. The grip isn’t just for show. It also helps the archer hold and control the bow better.

Final Touches and Adjustments

Once the grip is done, any last changes are made to fit the bow to the user. The length of the grip might be adjusted, or a section might be reshaped slightly to match the archer’s style. Only after these steps is the bow considered finished.

Every Miyakonojo bow is handmade, shaped from raw bamboo, and carefully balanced by a single skilled artisan. The process is long, but every part matters. It’s how these bows keep their power, beauty, and place at the top of traditional Japanese archery.

 

16. Osaka carved wooden panel

Osaka transoms, also called Osaka ranma in Japanese, are carved wooden panels made around Osaka, Kishiwada, and Suita. You’ll usually find them in traditional Japanese homes, placed between the ceiling and the top of the wall that separates two rooms. Some are installed above sliding doors, letting light and air pass through while still keeping the space divided.

There are a few different types, but carved and openwork styles stand out the most. Carved transoms are the most well-known. They feature deep, layered designs that often show detailed natural scenes. These take a lot of time and skill to make. The wood grain, especially from Yakushima cedar, plays a big role in the final look, and each design is made to work with that natural flow.

Openwork panels, on the other hand, are lighter and airier. They’re made from paulownia wood, and the patterns are cut straight through the boards. These have a more open, delicate feel. Some other types include osa, which uses thin, balanced wood strips; kumiko, which features geometric layouts; and yonuki, which uses pieces of bamboo joints for decoration.

Compared to other styles like Inami transoms from Toyama, Osaka’s versions are softer and more focused on function. They’re thinner and designed more for light and airflow than for heavy detail.

How Osaka Transoms Got Their Start

The history of Osaka transoms goes all the way back to the early 1600s. You can still see old carving styles at Hijiri Shrine, built in 1604, and at Shitennoji Temple, which was rebuilt around the same time. In the beginning, transoms were mostly found in temples and the homes of the elite. Back then, the center of this craft was in Kyoto, since it was the capital and cultural hub.

But things changed during the Edo period. By the mid-1600s, the panels started showing up in regular houses. As more people wanted them, the production base moved to Osaka. That made sense, since Osaka was already a major hub for trade and timber. There were a lot of wood merchants along the river in places like Horie and Yokobori, and artisans naturally gathered there. It soon became one of the top areas for transom production in Japan.

On top of that, Osaka had plenty of wealthy merchants who wanted these decorative panels in their homes. That demand helped the craft grow even more. The skills and techniques have been passed down ever since, from one generation of craftspeople to the next. In 1975, Osaka transoms were officially recognized as a traditional craft.

Why These Panels Still Matter Today

Osaka carved transoms are more than just home features. They reflect centuries of tradition, skill, and design that put form and function in balance. Even now, you’ll find craftsmen using the same slow, careful methods to make sure every panel tells its own story. These pieces still hold value not just as art, but as a link to the history of everyday homes in Japan.

How Osaka Transoms Are Made

The process of making an Osaka carved transom, especially the kind with a raised, three-dimensional design, takes time and skill. Every step is hands-on, and nothing is rushed. Here's how the traditional panels come to life from raw wood to finished frame.

Choosing the Right Wood for Carving

The first step is picking the wood. Most transoms are made from old-growth trees, usually between 200 and 300 years old. Cedar, Japanese cypress, and paulownia are the top choices. These woods are soft enough to carve but still strong, and they hold fine detail well. The wood also needs to have a clear, beautiful grain.

Cutting the Timber to Size

Once the wood is chosen, it’s cut down to the basic shape. The artisan figures out the right thickness, width, and length. Then they saw the timber into a board that fits the size of the final transom.

Drying the Boards Slowly

After cutting, the board has to dry. This step is critical. The wood is placed in a quiet space with steady air and low humidity. It sits for at least three months, but some pieces take years to dry completely. If the board isn't fully dry, it might crack later.

Laying Out the Design

Once the board is ready, layout lines are drawn as a guide. These show where to make the first cuts. The board is trimmed down again to match the final size.

Sketching the Artwork on the Wood

Next, the design is sketched right on the wood surface using a brush and black ink. This isn't just a rough idea. The artisan works out the full design here, looking closely at the wood grain, the direction it flows, and any natural marks in the board. The sketch lines serve as a map for every cut that comes next.

Removing Excess Wood

With the plan in place, the extra wood is removed with a fine-tooth saw. This stage gets rid of big chunks that aren't part of the final shape.

Smoothing the Surface

After the rough cut, the surface is cleaned up using a knife. Not a file. Using a blade instead of a rasp keeps the wood grain smooth and clear. It also helps the natural texture show through later in the final piece.

Starting the Rough Carving

The basic shapes of the design are then blocked out with a chisel. The artisan follows the sketch while paying close attention to the direction of the wood fibers and the overall strength of the piece.

Detailed Carving for Depth

Now comes the most important part. Every detail of the drawing is carved out layer by layer. This is where the flat board becomes a full 3D design. The artisan brings out depth, shadows, and texture, all from the wood itself.

Defining the Edges

Once the carving is done, the edges are carefully cut and shaped. This step separates the carved artwork from the outer frame. Chamfering the edges helps the design stand out clearly.

Polishing for Finish and Shine

Next, the wood is polished by hand. The artisan uses natural wax, often from sumac berries or insects. They use a special tool made from bundled grass roots, called uzukuri, to rub the surface. This brings out the wood grain, adds shine, and protects the piece. Polishing is especially effective on paulownia and softwoods like cedar, which gain a rich, smooth look after this treatment.

Framing the Carved Panel

At the end, the finished carving is fitted into a wooden frame. This frame holds the piece steady and makes it ready to be placed above a doorway or between rooms. The transom is now complete and ready to be installed.

Every stage, from wood selection to final polish, is done by hand with care. It’s a process that takes patience, experience, and a deep respect for the wood itself.

 

Next up:

Traditional Japanese Wood and Bamboo Crafts | Part II