A new exhibition of Japanese Sashiko textiles at York Art Gallery provides a unique glimpse into Japanese craft culture – revealing traditional techniques, details of a lost way of life and a personal dimension to one of the most catastrophic events in Japanese history. Sashiko may not be a household term in Europe, but for many of Japan’s working class it was once a vital part of daily life. Variations on a simple running stitch were used to embroider patterns and bind layers of fabric together to create hardwearing work wear for farming and fishing communities.

“They were work garments. Whereas in Britain we made quilts, in Japan they use this quilt like technique to make work clothes,” explained textile artist, and curator of the exhibition, Michele Walker. Granted a three year AHRC Fellowship at the University of Brighton to study Sashiko, she originally viewed the experience as a way to change the direction of her own work.

“I’ve done quite a lot of research on British quilted textiles and I could see that there were comparisons between Sashiko work and our traditions – that’s what really inspired me to first look into it,” she explains.

Walker travelled to Japan twice a year during the fellowship, witnessing traditions firsthand in Aomori prefecture, Fukuoka, and Sado island as well as other farming and coastal communities throughout the country.

While many of the pieces in the exhibition are beautiful, they were clearly made with function in mind. Based on a simple T-shape, clothes were tied with a sash, with any excess fabric folded back into the garment rather than cut. Clothes could be patched, taken in or let out as necessary.  This not only allowed for great flexibility but also gave each garment its own personal identity. This is an aspect of Sashiko which Walker finds particularly inspiring.

“I think if you look at these worn garments, they still have that feeling of the person who wore it. They still contain a very personal element. Sometimes the body has eroded the inside of the garment and its almost left a sort of ghostly imprint on the inside. I think it’s that that particularly influenced my own work,” she explained.

There is also a spiritual dimension to the textiles. Certain patterns stitched into the garments were supposed to protect the wearer from harm.

“I think this is the difference between the British work and the Japanese Sashiko. In Britain our quilting stitches are mainly used for decoration and the practical reason of keeping the layers together,” commented Walker “In Japan they are also used in that way, but certain patterns have a spiritual significance.”

This feature was particularly common in garments worn by fisherman, with patterns aiming to protect them from the perils of working on the sea.

“Very often you find these patterns on the edge of the sleeve or around the neck. That was to stop the evil spirits from entering, it kept them out.” Walker explained, adding that many of these symbols are still found in Japanese design today.

Certain aspects of Sashiko were dictated by national and regional circumstances. Whilst the people who made and wore Sashiko were allowed to produce silk, they weren’t allowed to wear anything other than cotton or hemp. Bright colours were also ruled out, and indigo was considered to be a very hard wearing dye, hence the prevalence of dark blue in the garments.

Within Japan regional variations are also apparent – something which Walker explains wasn’t immediately evident, but became apparent during the course of her research. She describes the Sashiko from Sado island as reflecting the hard-working nature of the local people. “They had no time for decoration. They just stitched the most basic rags together. Even special garments, you can see how plain they are.”

There is a coarseness to the hemp garments from some northern parts of Japan, where the climate prohibits the growth of cotton. In contrast, pieces in the exhibition from Fukuoka, a wealthy seaport in the South, reflect the wealth of the local culture.

Industrial progress is also evident in certain pieces. An apron panel in the exhibition includes coloured wools – not a material traditionally used in Sashiko – but incorporated when the expansion of railways made a wider range of products readily available. Produced and worn throughout Japan until just after the Second World War, and as late as the 1970s in parts of Japan such as Sado island, Sashiko was eventually replaced by western-style workwear.

“They actually preferred the Western-style clothing. They thought that Sashiko was rather old fashioned and they didn’t want to be associated with it anymore. To them it was all rather backward,” Walker added.

The dropping of atomic bombs on the Japanese cities of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was one of the defining moments of the twentieth century. Marking the beginning of a new era of warfare, it had devastating consequences for people in both cities.

Two Sashiko air raid hoods featured in the exhibition survived the attack. On loan from the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum, one was found only 600m from ground zero. It belonged to Tetsuo Kitabayshi, a 12-year old boy badly burned in the bombing, who despite being taken to a relief station died at home having never regained consciousness. His mother donated the hood to the museum in 1981.

The second hood belonged to Sonoe Kubotaka, who was just 23 when she was exposed to the bomb at Hiroshima Station. Badly burnt, she was nursed back to health by her mother and personally donated the hood to the museum in 2002. It was important to Walker to include the hoods in the exhibition.

“To me it’s just remarkable that anything survived. I think this is the first time this museum has loaned anything to a UK venue, so for the first time we’re seeing these things, which we’re very privileged to have.”

The demise of Sashiko and the lifestyle it reflected was not, for many women, a bad thing. Sashiko workers led very hard lives, dictated by the seasons and the local geography. Women had to make their own clothing and grow their own food in order to survive.

“It was a very hand to mouth existence. There was no romance attached to it at all. It was a very tough way of living, very hard,” explains Walker.

As part of her fellowship, Walker has spent a lot of time with women for whom this was, and in many cases continues to be, a way of life. Thanks largely to the longevity of Japanese women, she was able to hear about and experience their work ethic, vitality and self-sufficiency.

“I think they don’t look back on their earlier years with fondness, things are easier now. But, they still live in the same traditional way,” she explains. When traditional industries changed or died out, many of these women continued to work the land. Walker describes how one 94-year old woman she has been working with still gets up at 5.30a.m. in summer, climbing a hill to reach the allotment, which allows her to be self-sufficient.

“I think they’re the last generation to really work the land. I think the landscape will change and is already changing very significantly. But you know, this has been part of their life and it’s probably what keeps them so fit.”

While the old way of life may be dying out, Sashiko techniques and patterns have not completely vanished from Japanese culture. Fine examples of Sashiko work have already become collectors’ items, with particular interest in firemen’s costumes.

“Any nice piece of Sashiko now is really expensive to buy. People consider it to be part of their folk craft heritage, so it has that value attached to it as well.”

Sashiko has also become a popular hobby for many women. With the emphasis placed firmly on decoration, much of it is used in home furnishings. Walker believes this changes the character of the work.

“The difference is the women I’ve been interested in had to make Sashiko out of necessity. Today women choose to make it. It doesn’t’ have to perform a function it’s more of a decorative thing, maybe a wall hanging. That’s a very different attitude and I think it affects the type of work that’s being produced.”

Walker sees the adoption of Sashiko techniques and designs by individual designers and textile companies as a more positive take on the tradition. She cites Nuno, an international, commercial textile company in Japan as a good example.

“They’ve done quite a lot of Sashiko-inspired textiles and I think that’s where the new, exciting direction is going for Sahiko, not in directly copying the historical samples themselves,” she explained, adding that the company’s creative director, Reiko Sudo, works with traditional craftspeople. Nuno textiles are featured in the exhibition, as is the work of Miyoko Tokunaga. With each piece individually handmade, Tokunaga learnt Sashiko techniques and then developed them in accordance with her own creative vision.

Another modern take on the tradition is the revival of wrapping cloths. Traditionally used to carry almost everything, Japanese people are being encouraged to start using them again to combat the excessive use of plastic packaging.

For Walker personally, her involvement in Sashiko is not quite over yet. “The last time I was in Japan, we’d been trying to identify some women in a picture. I just got back from Sado island a few weeks ago and the curator I’d been working with emailed me and said she’d identified two of the women in the photograph. So I must go back and meet them and then I can, close that chapter of my research. I must go back and do that.”

The exhibition runs at York Art Gallery until 24 Jan 2010, and will then tour around the UK, featuring at The Collins Gallery, University of Strathclyde, Glasgow (27 February  – 11 April 2010) and Plymouth Museum and Art Gallery (31 July – 26 September 2010).

www.yorkartgallery.org.uk

For more information about Sashiko visit www.sashiko.org.uk