"Translating" a Technique in a Different Country - Katazome in Australia

It's been 8 years since I first tried to replicate katazome resist dyeing in Australia. After spending a year on exchange at Kyoto Seika University during my undergraduate studies, I'd come back with a burning enthusiasm to try and see if the same technique could be achievable with local supplies. It turns out, yes - but with much modification.

When you start to look at traditional crafts without applying the lens of "sacred and untouchable", you find at the core of it all a basic process that utilises a series of specific tools and ingredients to achieve a beautiful end result. The gadgets and materials that have come to be synonymous with a particular traditional craft (think shibugami stencil paper with katazome) have only obtained that status because they've developed over time in line with that culture and with other industries developing simultaneously.

What I mean is,

Dye brushes at Kuriyama-kobo, a katazome company
on the western edge of Kyoto

why would katazome use deer-hair brushes? Probably because 1. there were deer around and 2. an industry already existed making deer-hair brushes for use in traditional painting. Why would one utilise thin rods of bamboo with sharp spikes at the end to stretch fabric taut? Presumably because bamboo was already being formed into products for other purposes at the time. Katagami stencil paper could not have developed without the existing Japanese skills in washi papermaking - from which the stencil paper is made.

Very traditional stencil paper - shibugami

The thing is, if we look at the technique of katazome as it stands now, there is a very polished, established and institutionalised way of practicing it. It is basically understood to involve a set of specific tools and materials (mochi rice flour, komon rice bran, stencil paper, soybean & seaweed derived fixative). These are presumed to be the ultimate, most refined and correct way to achieve the best results. Of course it is fair to think that. These are not tools and materials that are used by accident - they have gone through a few hundred years of use and modification.

Whilst there is now some deviation from these very traditional and quintessential ingredients and processes, like a modified plasticised stencil paper or a chemical pre-dye fixative, there is still a very set way of doing things.

Newer plasticised stencil paper

How about if you want to use katazome in a country where those quintessential tools and materials are not only unavailable, they're simply not part of our culture. Bamboo, deer hair, rice flour and washi paper have only, if at all, recently been part of our vocabulary let alone available to purchase. They simply aren't part of our natural environment or resources.

Applying shinshi stretchers to long narrow fabric

So okay, why not seek to uncover what function these ingredients and tools perform within the katazome process and utilise something locally available to perform the same task?

Instead of lamenting that shinshi (bamboo fabric stretchers) are unavailable in Australia (they have no reason to be; historically we've never needed to be able to stretch a narrow kimono-width fabric out to dry) why not consider what function they are performing (stretching the fabric taut whilst leaving the back side accessible) and seek to replicate that function? A wooden frame with pins to hold the fabric out taut performs the same function. Of course, this is not as flexible as the centuries-tried-and-true shinshi approach but it is a workable solution.

Funori - looks natural and traditional, I guess

Manutex - not pretty but same stuff on the inside

Alright, what about the funori  - a seaweed derived gloopy thickener used in the pre-dye fixative? Well, if you get down to the nitty-gritty of what's actually in that stuff, you'd find that it's the same seaweed gloop that we use as a food thickener in Australia and it also already exists as a substrate for use in screen printing. Powdered "Manutex F" does not have the same natural look or roll off the tongue as nicely as funori, sure, but it performs the same basic function. 

And so you can continue with all the necessary tools and ingredients in the hallowed katazome tomes and see what can be used to achieve the same result.



For some ingredients the swap is simple. Others are proving more difficult. Soft, dense dye brushes, fine de-fatted rice-bran, water erasable ao-bana ink.... But it is really just a matter of thinking outside the box. To be able to source tools and materials locally would be the ideal situation. Not to remove the technique from its Japanese roots entirely, but to make it viable.


There are many specialised businesses in Kyoto, for example, which have operated as family-run enteprises for some hundreds of years. They each have their own niche of the textile process to support; the nori (resist paste) manufacturer and shop, the shinshi (bamboo stretcher) specialist, the kimono-width silk salesroom, the specialised craftsmen making circular punches for intricate stencil carving...More and more these businesses are struggling to survive. With the demise of the kimono as daily and common wear, these businesses that thrived and supported the kimono industry now have little patronage to subsist on. If I were still in Kyoto, I would continue to support these businesses with my own hard-owned yen and utilise them in my artwork but I fear even that is simply not enough.

Just one example of the many kimono industry support businesses that are often now finding it hard to stay afloat

If, and it would seem likely, these businesses continue to shut-down, there is no-one left to make the traditional katagami, to bulk-produce batches of nori paste, to make specific lengths of shinshi, to craft tiny sharp circular punches. Like any loss of knowledge and skills, this is tragic, it really is. But this is the way it goes. Crafts are only in demand so much as they are an active and necessary part of our daily lives. Without that demand, they become obsolete. There are many example of innovative companies and individuals who are thinking outside the box to continue supporting Kyoto's craft industries and make them relevant to today's society (these are something I plan to touch on in future) but I think we also need to be realistic. Whilst continuing to support traditional industry where possible, I think we need to start accepting that there are alternatives, so that the techniques can actually survive - even if some of the tools cannot.

It seems to me that in the end, even if it means modifying many of the components of the technique, having the ability to actually practice the technique at all, and see it survive into the future is the best way to honour tradition.

A tradition is kept alive only by something being added to it. - Henry James

On that note, I'm off to continue testing out new resist-paste recipes!

Somé no Bunka - Fukumoto Shigeki's introduction to the unique magic of Somé

It took me many months to read, but I successfully worked my way through a book by Japanese artist and researcher Fukumoto Shigeki called "Somé no Bunka", or "The Culture of Dyeing".

Part of the motivation behind my exhibition (and especially the choice of title) last month at the Japan Foundation in Sydney was to introduce more people to the genre of somé. Somé means 'dyeing' in Japanese and the term separates it from other forms of textiles. 

In Japanese it is common practice to divide the field of textiles into dyeing and weaving (somé & ori 染め、織り). The name of the textiles course in many Japanese universities is senshoku (dyeing and weaving 染織) which is the just a different reading of the characters for somé+ori.

Somé is different from weaving, obviously, but it is also distinct from surface design or 'textiles'. It's a complicated division and of course there are overlaps but Fukumoto's book reiterates the unique history and way of thinking behind Somé.

Fukumoto is a practitioner and proponent of Textile dyeing. His own work is diverse but is characterised by free-form dyeing with gradations, folds and wax resist.

This is a beautiful video showing him and one of his techniques. I have to say it's a little bit contradictory to the things he says about flatness and tactility but it's interesting nonetheless.

I thought I might translate a few short passages from Somé no Bunka here for you. (Please excuse the Engrish-y feel of them!)

Preface

"There is a curious pleasure to be found in dyeing work, almost without realising. It’s something you sense during the actual work of the dyeing process; a joy perhaps only privy to those who’ve tried it. 

There’s the feeling of pleasure when impurities and excess dyes are washed away. Or in the final rinse, one feels a sense of accomplishment as the dye stops running from the fabric and the water runs clear.

You see the vibrancy of the dyed colours in the soaking fabric.
Relaxing the fabric with steam, it becomes supple and fresh again.
Touching the freshly dyed fabric, and knowing it is clean and clear of impurities is a joyous moment.
As well as the many possible dye-effects, there is a satisfaction in knowing the finished artwork is still simply a single piece of cloth. 
There is a joy not simply the making of the work, but also in the sensation of touching it with the skin.
I question that perhaps I enjoy this too much."

Regarding mounting textiles　↓

"Dyeing requires cloth and dye. 
Unlike painting with pigments, for example, dyeing is borne of the need to fix colour onto cloth without spoiling the fabric's characteristics. 
That is, the basis of dyeing is using methods that don't alter the feel of the cloth.

If you go and frame or mount a dyed piece of fabric, it becomes a flat artwork. That piece of cloth is transformed into a mere surface and it loses its meaning as a soft, pliable cloth.
If it's an illusory flat surface you want, what's wrong with using canvas, or paper, wooden board or a wall?
If you insist on using fabric even though the final product will be hard and flat, what's the point of going to all that trouble dyeing it to maintain it's fabric qualities? You're probably not interested in the tactility of the cloth - the direct interaction with the skin.
 In which case, your choice to insist on using fabric is nonsense."

- YEAH! you tell 'em Mr Fukumoto!

He also goes into a lot of depth regarding the relationship between Japan's dyeing history and culture and European and American understandings of dyeing. He is particularly scrupulous about the Surface Design Association in the U.S and their development from a weaving-dominated association to one that covers all kinds of textiles. I think Australia went through a very similar progression, from crafts-based textile skills, to 1960's/1970's free-form fibre-work and dyeing to a contemporary Textile scene we see today.

Though Dyeing tends to be subsumed under the heading of Surface Design in Australia and the U.S, Fukumoto maintains that Somé and Surface Design are not one and the same. He advocates using the word Somé as an alternative, to avoid the inevitable connotations of words like Textile Design, Surface Design or Fibre Art.

He's actually quite adamant, "Sashimi, Karate, Anime and Shibori are already incorporated into our internationalising vocabulary. Why not just call it Somé? Japanese dyeing culture is highly regarded around the world. If people are so enthusiastic about learning those traditions and skills, first they should just use the word Somé!!"

I would love to share more of his writing in future posts - but for now just these tasters!

-- keep an eye out, I hope to post images from my exhibition in the near future!

It's all in the details.... The Making of Katazome and Yuzen works for my new exhibition! 型染と友禅での新作～工程動画

After some reluctance, much procrastination and a lot of shaky filming, I bring you some short video clips that give some insight into the processes I use in making my work. Katazome and Yuzen are mixed together in these but I have made them abstract on purpose - I just want to show the many and diverse steps in making a piece using these traditional methods. I hope you enjoy them!

Here's part one and two

and here's where these works will be on show from the 13th of August (one week from now!!)

http://www.jpf.org.au/jpfevents/16-some/

Using Katazome in Contemporary practice? 型染～伝統的な技法を現代のアートに

I never considered the issue of tradition much whilst a textiles student in Australia but Japanese textiles are so steeped in history that it becomes impossible to avoid.

オーストラリア国立大学でテキスタイルを専攻した時は、「伝統」というものをめったに考えませんでした。アボリジニの植物繊維で作られている籠や羽を使った服などを含まなかったら、オーストラリアではテキスタイルの歴史が短いです。ここで発展した技法などがなくて、現在のテキスタイルはだいたいイギリスやヨーロッパから来た刺繍・編み物・織物の継続なのです。

しかし、日本で染織を勉強したら、伝統だって避けられない複雑なものになりました。

For many Japanese artists I saw around me in Kyoto and Japan, the technique of ｋatazome was just another technique at their disposal. 

In their eyes, it seemed to be a given that it could used to create dyed pictures or dyed artwork and they saw no disparity in utilising a traditional technique in a very contemporary context.
It may seem nothing special to you either but when you start to break it down, it's really quite an odd situation.

A contemporary artwork in katazome by fellow Kyoto Seika graduate Ohmura Yuri "Blue Evening" Katazome on Cotton, 2015  「青い夕方」　大村 優里　木綿／型染

日本、得に京都で出会ったテキスタイル作家さんにとっては、「型染」はただ表現のやり方の一つのようでした。伝統的なルーツがある型染を現代的な作品、または絵画みたいな作品に利用するとはなにも矛盾がなかったようです。

つまり、現代の作品を伝統的な技法で作るのは平気だったようです。

可笑しくないでもあるはずですが、この「現代の絵画アート」＋「伝統的な工芸技法」という概念はどこかが奇妙じゃないですか？

Let's think about this using the example of katazome - stenciled resist dyeing. Katazome was traditionally used as a way to put a pattern onto fabric, often one that repeated down the length of a bolt of fabric. It could be used to reproduce very fine detailed patterns over and over.
This explains why it was popular as a way of dyeing bolts of kimono fabric, which are 12 metres or more long; it's efficient and detailed enough to produce patterns that resemble more costly fabrics like woven or embroidered cloth.
In this context, katazome is a technical process, used to achieve a certain known result and applied by craftsmen or workers who are experts in the technique.

型染めを例にしてちょっと考慮しましょう。型染めは江戸時代には、布に模様を染めるやり方でした。繰り返しで使ったら、一つの型紙で長い布が染められる大生産向きの技法なのです。

着物用の一反に繊細な模様を素早く、それに丁寧に染めることができる技法として人気を得ました。この場合、型染で布を染めた人々は、熟練した職人さんですね。今頭に浮かぶ「美術」とは関係なく、工芸のようなものでした。

Since there's now less man-power reliant ways of getting a detailed pattern onto fabric, katazome is rarely used in this way anymore. Cotton yukata (summer kimono) that were once dyed with katazome are now often dyed using an industrial rubber resist that is screen-printed onto folded fabric before dye is poured on (a process called Chuusen - lit. pour-dyed) . It's still an impressive process *check it out HERE* but it is far removed from the accurate and detailed nature of katazome (read: dirty and industrial)
.

Divorced from it's heavy role in industry, katazome is now being used as an art medium. From the 1950's and 60's onwards in Japan you can see dyed-work starting to make an appearance in art galleries and shifting perceptions of 'Dyeing as Craft' to 'Dyeing as Visual Art'. My Professors working in katazome or roketsu (wax resist) use traditional dyeing techniques in a contemporary way thanks to the generation of pioneers that came before them.

現在、布に模様を付けるにはもっと早い方法が沢山あるので、型染は産業的な役割を殆ど失いました。普通の店で買う浴衣は大体プリントされたか注染で染められたわけです。しかし、日本で1960年代ぐらいから型染をアートの感覚で利用した作家が登場しました。「型染は工芸」より、「型染はアート」のように使われて、展覧会にも型染の作品が展示されました。私の先生も、その

Here are just a couple of examples of artworks by my teachers and others - who are using katazome in this new pictorial way; to create something akin to a painting but with qualities that are essentially textile. By the way, this is the way that katazome is now taught in universities too - from the first lesson it is presented as a pictorial dye technique, not a repetitive patterning tool.

A visionary in pictorial katazome - Nishijima Takeshi. b1929-2003. katazome on tsumugi silk
西嶋武司の作品。現代風の作品に型染を使った先駆者の一人。

Toba Mika's dyed scenery take traditional katazome to a new scale. 'Early Morning - Seiryutei in February'　2009. Toba-sensei is a student of Nishijima (above). 鳥羽美花先生の作品。「払暁　清流亭 － 二月より」2009年

Naito Hideharu - "Tree" Indigo and plant dye (black) on cotton.
]「樹」 内藤英冶  木綿布、植物染料（黒）、藍／型染 2009

Though a Contemporary artwork made with Katazome might appear visually similar to a Painting (and some artist's strive to make it appear so) there are fundamental characteristics of a Katazome work - legacy of it's traditional process.
The two most obvious differences that characterize a contemporary piece executed in Katazome are
* the necessity of a stencil, & * the use of dyes.

Since the technique requires the use of a stencil (traditionally made from smoked, persimmon juice steeped Washi paper but now often made from thin plastic) there are certain limitations visually of what can be achieved. A design that is to be made into a stencil needs to have all its areas connected in some way so that when you cut it out, it remains as one unified piece. Therefore you have to make choices about how you incorporate this factor into your artwork. Different katazome artists find their own ways of doing this, congruent to their own style - some choose to include 'bridges' within the stencil design that are later erased during the printing stage, whilst others include sneaky 'bridges' as part of their design that you don't necessarily notice. Many will use both these approaches. It's certainly not something you have to think about when painting!  

Another factor, fundamentally different from a painting is the use of Dyes rather than pigments or paints. Unlike painting, where the pigment rests on top of the substrate and can be layered and can potentially completely cover previous layers, dyes soak into the fibres of the fabric and can't be reversed. This requires you to decide at the outset of dyeing what colours will go where and it what order/shade/brilliancy to achieve the desired outcome. Dyes can be bled into each other, faded out, applied in layers that maintain transparency, and watered down or concentrated. The liquid-y state of dyes also gives an interesting depth to colours - it's very hard to achieve a flat solid colour when brush applying dye by hand but this is one of katazome's advantages and can be a feature.

型染で作った現代の作品は見た目で似ていても、大きな違いが少なくとも二つあります。（わざと絵画にみえるように作る作家もいますけど）
この二つの違いは
*型紙の必要性
*染料の使用

というのは、絵画と違ってイメージを布・紙に染めるには型紙が必要です。型紙は渋紙（現代はプラスチック製の紙も多く使われている）を彫ったものです。デザインの彫らない部分が繋がっていないと、彫る時にバラバラになってしまいます。だから、デザインのあっちこっちが接しているように、線か三角形などの「ツリ」を含みます。作家によってやり方が異なるですが（例えばツリを入れるけど糊置きの時に糊で消すので最終的に作品には見えないとか、賢く気づかないようにデザインに残るツリを入れるとか、その両方とか。。。）
型紙が必要のため、上述の工夫によって型染の作品の雰囲気はなんとなく独特です。

そして、もう一つは染料の使用ですね。染料は生地の繊維まで染み込むものなので、うえから別の色で隠せないし、どの順番に、どの濃度で付けるかを最初から考えないといけないですね。でも染料の長所もあります。暈しができる、透明感がある、染めた色には深みがあって、混ぜ合わせると無限な色が作れます。

So okay, the technique of Katazome is different from say, Painting, on a technical and visual level. It is being used for Contemporary Art - in a way that is removed from it's traditional usage, but it is still undeniably connected to that history and tradition.
Are there any implications of this seemingly opposed pairing?
I think it can lead to some confusion over how it fits into our visual art world - but in my mind the best thing about using katazome in a contemporary context is that it opens doors to innovation and evolving traditions.

tradition and change. 

伝統そのものを守りすぎ傾向もあると思います。もちろん、昔のステキな技術を尊敬するべき、記録べきだと思います。しかし、考えれば、伝統だって、何百年、何千年の間に改良が加えられて、少しずつ変わってきた物ですね。

友禅染は偶然登場したわけではない。最初は布に墨などで描くやり方だけで、だんだん複雑な段階が発達された（染料を使う、防染糊を使う、染料に糊剤を入れる、乾いた糊の破片を撒くなどなど）。現在、本物の友禅ト呼ぶ「京友禅」や「加賀友禅」は沢山の変化や年月を経たものなのです。

でも今使われている「本友禅」は30年前、80年前行われた工程とあんまり変わらないです。つまり、「これは伝統的なものだ」と決めると、変化があんまり起こらないです。守りたいから。

でも、守れないんです。伝統が実はいつも少しずつ変わっていっているものなので無理な対処法なのです。

I think we can be too precious about 'tradition' sometimes. Of course it is important to value, respect and record ingenious traditional methods of creating things (whether it be dyeing or making pigments or carving stone or glazing ceramics). The very nature of a traditional skill is that it has been developed and honed over many generations, each perpetuating it and maintaining it. That is something to honour and appreciate.

But on the flip-side of that, weren't those very traditions borne of innovation and shifts it society's needs and tastes? Yuzen dyeing, for example, didn't just appear, it was a shift sideways from painting on fabric; a revolutionary idea that we have chosen to kryogenically freeze in about the 1800s and keep in perpetuation as "true yuzen". I think there is a danger in this idolisation of particular traditional practices - without allowing innovation to happen. I think it's important to acknowledge that traditions are fluid - they are borne of change and will continue to do so. And that is a good thing - not some betrayal of those who have gone before.

Try these on for size: 

“Those who feel guilty contemplating "betraying" the tradition they love by acknowledging their disapproval of elements within it should reflect on the fact that the very tradition to which they are so loyal—the "eternal" tradition introduced to them in their youth—is in fact the evolved product of many adjustments firmly but delicately made by earlier lovers of the same tradition.”
― Daniel C. Dennett

"The word traditional has often been misleading and confusing. It connotes a static and fossilised art form, unchanged and unaffected, come what may, over the years. This is not true for what may be traditional today, may not necessarily be tomorrow. Societies change, and so must their arts, if they are to be meaningful, functional and express the sentiment inherent in that society. This is not a radical and complete break from the past, but rather a compatible and gradual modification to suit the new values, identities and concerns of that society."
- Vilsoni Tausie Art in the New Pacific. Fiji: Institute of Pacific Studies, 1979

 「『伝統』という言葉は紛らわしい。無変化、無転移、時代に影響されないような物という意味合いがある。そうでもない。今伝統であるものは明日そうでもないかもしれない。社会が変化する。芸術は社会の意見や好みを表すものだから、同時に変化しないといけない。変化によって過去との関係を断絶するわけではない。代わりに、少しずつ、社会にかかわるアイディアや需要と合うものになるように変化する。」　（注*私の適当な翻訳）

The same issue about freezing time and perpetuating something traditional often comes up with regard to Kimono. Some people may want to keep Kimono "pure" and "untainted", so to speak, but the very thing we call a kimono today has been changing and morphing for hundreds of years. From something worn loosely and tied at the hip during the Muromachi period to something with short fixed sleeves and no extra length during Edo, to something that gets folded and tucked and wrapped and tied tightly around the body today. Why then is it blasphemous to introduce kimono that are made in two pieces? Or to suggest that the Kimono fabric could be thick denim? Sticklers for tradition are eventually left behind if no space is allowed for gradual modification. Even worse, when there's no room for change, the traditions they were so desperate to see continue into the future are not carried forth in any form at all.

着物も「伝統」のままであってほしい声もありますね。でも、着物も様々な時代を経てスタイルが変わってきたものですね。室町時代のゆるいものから、江戸時代の短い袖の小袖へ、現在のギュッと着るものまで。これからも「着物」というものが変わっていくのが当然じゃないですか？

So to wrap up this meandering post, I think what I want to state is that yes, Katazome comes from a place of history and years of development. Yes, it is a complex and ingenious technique and the craftsmen and traditional practice deserve to be celebrated and appreciated. But there is also space for contemporary interpretations; katazome as contemporary visual art. In fact, by using katazome in contemporary work, isn't that the ultimate compliment? It honours the "tradition", keeps many of the tools and materials in demand (which supports those specialised businesses that boomed with the kimono industry but now struggle) and it keeps katazome relevant and meaningful to Today.

これは長くなって分からなくなってきた！
とりあえず言いたいとは、
型染の歴史や伝統を尊敬する同時に、現代アートに使う余裕もあります。
しかも、型染を現代に利用するのは褒めることでしょう。

Whether katazome could grow beyond Japanese borders and truly become a global medium of expression is another question but who's to say it can't?

Jumping back in!

Oh hi there, world.
It's been a while between posts lately. I've been a bit stuck, uninspired and dragging my feet through the mud of procrastination. I've also been stewing over a bunch of posts and been too much of a perfectionist to let any of them go out into the ether. But done is better than good, so here we go...

It's just ticked over 5 months since I came back to Canberra after finishing up my Graduate studies in Japan. Returning to Australia, I was most worried about leaving behind a supportive art network that I had built up over more than 5 years. I also felt the pressure of continuing to make work (and because I'm a perfectionist, good work) when my teachers had taught me so much and told me they expect big things from me. (gah!)

But it's all a process and I refuse to let all the things I have learnt, practiced and developed sit shriveling in the corner out of fear.

New work since coming back to Canberra, "Call of Crimson Rosellas" July 2015. 184cm wide. silk, katazome, yuzen.

Hacking "sacred" techniques.

Katazome and yuzen and many other Japanese-conceived ways of getting dye onto fabric (and making it stay there!) are complicated.

It's not like Painting, where you could pick up rolled canvas and paints and brushes almost anywhere around the world and you'd be set to go. That makes me incredibly jealous. It makes artists like painters ideal for artists' residencies or Studio rental because their materials are easy to procure anywhere and easy to move. (not to mention easy to market and the fact that they are a culturally understood format/genre - but that's another kettle of fish)

Katazome and yuzen require tools and materials that just aren't part of the culture outside of Japan. Rice bran, used for pickling vegetables in Japan, is not a supermarket staple in Australia. Bamboo, as used in making fabric stretching rods "shinshi", is the jack of all trades in Japanese construction, gardening and even cuisine, but it's often considered a pest plant in Australia. As for katagami stencil paper made from mulberry fibre paper, that has been painted with astrigent persimmon juice and then smoked for 10 days? YEAH RIGHT!

Beautiful Nuka (Rice-Bran) pickles - something I came to love but they are definitely not part of Australian culture and hence, neither is the crucial ingredient, Rice bran (image by Max Wheeler)

But using the lack of perfectly suited tools and materials as an excuse not to do anything is a mistake.

I'm figuring out how to "hack" these techniques in Australia, tool by tool and ingredient by ingredient. I'm finding out which ones are non-negotiable and which can actually be easily replaced with something else. Bye-bye toxic lacquer for applying mesh to stencils, hello Dulux wall paint! (yay, washes off in water!) Bye-bye giant, beautiful bamboo sifter and oversized rice paddle for making resist-paste, hello $2 shop sieve and a Kmart giant wooden spoon.

Using Dulux house paint to adhere mesh to the front of the stencils in the foreground. Thanks to hints from a process John Marshall in the U.S has pioneered.

Even just figuring out what the real ingredient in some of the Japanese-sold auxilliaries has been helpful. Turns out funori, a shrivelled up seaweed used as a thickener in Japan is just the same as Manutex, a product we use here in textile printing and as a food thickener. Or something simply known as "Fixer 10" in Japan is actually sodium silicate or "Maypro-gum" used in thickening dye in Japan is pretty much the same as Guar Gum - a.k.a the gluten-free baker's favourite assistant.

So it's do-able! It may not be very travel-friendly but certainly the sketching/designing stage can be portable. It may not be as elegant of a set-up or as Japan but hey, here's a secret, even my very successful professor just washes stencils in a bath tub and had the old guy down the street rig up a board with nails in it and castors on the base to hold her dye brushes. Done is better than good, it would seem.

Sure, the setup is a little bit "sticky-tape and cardboard" but it works!

Dining table + sticky-tape + $1nailbrush = good enough

Even though Katazome and Yuzen are traditional techniques, they are not sacred. Culture is not static, and traditions grow and change with it.

So I can't use the lack of materials or tools as an excuse anymore. I have new ideas, some people interested in commissioned pieces, and the means to make them.

Consider this my jump back into regular posts. Less perfectionism, more output coming your way!