Design Hunting in Shimane

Hello, welcome! I'm Andrea Pompilio.

Now today I'm out on a design hunt in Western Japan, in Shimane prefecture.

Now as you can see, the wind is very strong.

This is winter along the coast of the Sea of Japan.

Black roof tiles are usually the common scene we could see here in Japan but in this area, we find a row of red-tiled roofs.

Now, Shimane prefecture is very rich with underground resources including minerals, earth and stones.

Now I wonder how that is affecting and influencing the design of this area.

Let's go check it out.

On Design Hunts, we track down unique, regional designs from all around Japan.

Shimane prefecture in Japan's west is the setting for some of the country's earliest mythologies.

Today, we'll be exploring Shimane's diverse underground resources.

Join us on a hunt for designs shaped by the sacred soil of Shimane.

Andy is visiting western Shimane, which is in the grip of a harsh cold snap.

This region is known for red sekishu roof tiles.

Roof tiles known as kawara have long been used in temples, shrines, and homes.

They're fired from regular clay.

Andy is visiting a firm that's made sekishu tiles for over 200 years.

Kamedani-san, hello! I'm Andy.

Good morning!

The firm's 9th-generation director, Kamedani Norio.

This entire town is covered in Kawara roof tiles.

I understand that the red ones are a local specialty.

Is that correct?

The color comes from a glaze that we add.

Part of a traditional technique.

On a cold day like today, it's common for tiles to soak up water that then forms ice crystals inside.

The wind and the salt water can even create salt crystals.

That eventually cracks the tiles.

They break?

That's right.

To prevent this, we fire our tiles at 1350 degrees Celsius.

Our kiln is one of the hottest in the world.

To stop them from breaking.

Yes, to prevent water absorption.

Incredible.

Sekishu tiles have been prized since the 17th century for their longevity in even the harshest of environments.

They're made from local clay.

This same clay also produces the kimachi stone used for the glaze.

Both materials are highly resistant to heat.

By firing them at a high temperature, the pottery can make exceedingly durable tiles.

Their beautiful color is also a result of this pursuit of durability.

Kimachi stone turns red at high temperatures.

The glaze contains no synthetics.

It's always been made by hand using natural materials.

But roof tiles aren't the only products the firm can craft with this technique.

Wow.

We make these at our kiln.

Beautiful.

Have a feel.

There are shiny spots and rough spots.

Yes, you're right.

Because our glaze is completely natural, it produces a lot of complex colors and hues.

The color changes at different angles as well, doesn't it?

It's a really gorgeous color to use in a wooden building like this one.

It suits the timber perfectly.

It's all the same glaze, but the position inside the kiln affects the final result.

You're leveraging that too!

We are, yes.

You can get a very different look depending on how you lay out the tiles.

All our work is done by hand, and it's nice to see that reflected in the final result like this.

The firm also produces floor tiles.

They're non-absorbent and easy to clean.

You didn't start out making these tiles, right?

Only kawara roof tiles.

Yes, we spent two centuries only making kawara.

I see.

Roofs sit on top of your house, right?

Sure.

So most people living underneath them don't spend much time thinking about their tiles.

That's true.

Younger people in particular aren't likely to spend money on products they don't really see.

But tiles like these that you can see and touch showcase the best elements of ceramics.

I suppose I wanted to make products from the ground up!

Today, many hotels and public spaces use kawara tiles because of their exceptional design and functionality.

The roof, walls, and floors of this cultural center are covered in sekishu tiles.

They reflect the current weather, adding a new and beautiful aspect to the building.

The pottery makes more than just tiles.

This popular local restaurant serves food on kawara ceramics.

Kamedani proposed it as a way to help people reengage with kawara.

I love how it feels.
This rough texture.

Sekishu tiles are
pretty ordinary to us.

But Kamedani-san turned them
into plates and bowls.

We use them with pride!

It's Andy's turn to try out some of the kawara crockery.

Amazing! I see the original tile design!

Just as it is, yes.

But transformed into a hotpot!

Regular tiles would crack from direct heat, but we developed material that can withstand it.

Please, eat up.

You spoil me!

It's good, right?

It's incredible.

Can I stay?

So kawara tiles as crockery.

I wanted a way to bring our products into the home.

Like this one, too.

The material isn't absorbent.

So you could have a cup of coffee, wash it, rinse it, then use it for sake.

No scent.

Right, no trace of the coffee.

The high-temperature at which we fire our kawara turned out to be perfect for tableware.

Amazing.

But our heart still lies with kawara roof tiles.

Like my predecessors have always said, roof tiles are what keep your home safe for a century, or even two.

As always.

To keep that going, we need to take on more challenges.

And it's part of this region's identity.

That's really wonderful.

In the end, we're only able to do this thanks to the local resources at our disposal.

You couldn't make this elsewhere.

I'm grateful to my hometown.

Kimachi stone is vital to the creation of sekishu tiles.

It can be found in the Kimachi area in Shimane's capital of Matsue.

Shaula is visiting an artisan looking for new ways to use kimachi stone.

She's come to a lakeside cafe.

Hello! Nice to meet you.

Thanks for coming all this way in this weather!

Stonemason Ito Tsutomu.

In addition to his masonry work, he also runs a cafe to showcase his stone creations.

I noticed a pretty large sign outside the cafe.

Yes, that's kimachi stone, a unique resource only found here in Matsue.

The kimachi stone was formed from seabed deposits after a volcanic eruption 14 million years ago.

The material is soft, even, and easy to shape.

Perfect for delicate work.

Its gentle brown hue is also charming.

It develops a little moss and darkens when exposed to rain.

It's a very appealing stone, with a touch of the wabisabi aesthetic.

Ito is also very fond of birds.

How lovely!

Here it is.

A birdbath for visiting birds to clean their wings.

A place to clean themselves.

Wild birds are drawn to the clean water.

The basin makes for a charming scene.

Kimachi stone includes elements that aid water purification.

It's the perfect material for a birdbath, which must contain clean water.

It feels like such a natural shape.

It really fits the setting so perfectly.

It would have a very different vibe if I'd made it from granite.

Oh, for sure.

Ito started working with kimachi stone through his family business making Izumo stone lanterns, a Shimane tradition.

These historic light sources are often placed in Japanese gardens and considered works of art.

Because kimachi is absorbent, the lanterns grow mossy and become part of the landscape.

They quickly took off across Japan.

The lanterns are decorated with various patterns that showcase the stone.

Ito's favorite finish is called 'warehada', or 'broken skin.' The surface is chipped with great care, creating a texture only stone can achieve.

He used the technique to create these modern stone lanterns, titled 'Art Stone.' It's a return to lighting, the original purpose of the traditional lanterns.

Cozy and calming, the lanterns have an unassuming beauty.

Their soft light can be found throughout the city.

Ito has a favorite lookout spot.

What are we looking at here?

I found a stone with an unusual shape, and I was wondering what I could do with it.

I decided to make it into lounging stones for watching the sunset over the lake.

That's what this is!

It looks quite comfortable!

It's my favorite spot.

Looking at all of your different work, I can feel a real love for this landscape and the local nature.

Thank you.

Shimane stone is brimming with potential.

Ito hopes it can bring people and nature a little closer.

Certain Japanese stones are said to bring good fortune.

These are magatama beads.

For over ten thousand years, they have been worn as protection from evil.

Around 1700 years ago, masons began crafting them from Shimane stone.

They're made from jasper, known here as Izumo stone.

Top-quality Izumo stone is hard and dense.

Much can be found beneath Matsue's Tamatsukuri neighborhood, which is famous for its magatama.

This shrine dates back around 1300 years.

Magatama?

Its crest features a familiar shape.

It's a shrine dedicated to the deity of making magatama beads.

A beautiful piece of jasper sits beside the main hall.

Magatama beads have a centuries-old history.

Shaula visits the only remaining workshop in the area.

Hello!

Hi, nice to meet you.

Welcome, I'm Shingu.

I'm Shaula, a pleasure.

5th-generation workshop head, Shingu Fukujiro.

Over here.

He shows Shaula some classic magatama beads made from Izumo stone.

They used to be used in rituals at the shrine.

They're probably the oldest form of talisman in Japan.

So a lot of people keep them for themselves, or buy them as gifts.

Talismans!

Not for a specific purpose, but a general good-luck charm.

That's right.

There are many theories about the unusual shape.

Some believe it comes from the crescent moon, or a fetus in the womb.

There are lots of ideas, but I personally think it's the soul.

The soul?

The shape of a soul.

Huh.

I think that what connects us to one another lies in our hearts or our souls.

So I like the idea that magatama are shaped like souls.

Looking closely, they all look similar, but each one is subtly different.

Yes.

That's part of their beauty.

Each is very slightly different because they're all made by hand.

I see.

Tsudo Yuri has been making magatama for 12 years.

After cutting the stone to the right size, she begins to shape the bead.

She wants create a soft, rounded form.

Every part of the final magatama is a curve.

It's strange to think people chose
to carve such complex grooves.

I think it must have been
a very special shape.

Finally, Shingu shows Shaula a magatama bead that means a lot to him personally.

His grandfather, an artisan, carved it for his grandmother over 70 years ago.

Eventually his grandmother gifted it to him.

May I hold it?

Please do.

It's quite heavy.

It is, and it's also quite large.

Grandpa made it over 70 years ago.

I hope I can live up to the standards he set.

I think it's a reflection of how he felt about Grandma, and also of how she felt about me.

It carries all those connections.

I think magatama are a symbol of the many ways we feel about one another.

I carry this with me everywhere I go.

I see.

It goes back to the idea of talismans that you mentioned earlier.

It does, yes.

I'm here, doing my best, and talismans are a way for the divine to give me a little push in the right direction, a little support.

Also the people around us who want to support me, and who I want to help - - talismans are a tangible way for us to do that for one another.

That makes a lot of sense to me.

Every time you see it, it brings back memories.

Maybe it's a face, or maybe it's all the intangible things that person meant to you.

Our connections are invisible but this gives them form.

It's very Japanese.

Absolutely.

I think magatama beads are a wonderful reminder of that aspect of our culture.

Definitely.

A primeval Shimane design that gives form to our unseen emotions.

Our last stop is Oda city, in central Shimane.

It's the home of Mt. Sanbe, an active volcano that last erupted four thousand years ago.

Andy is visiting a museum with a unique connection to the volcano.

Hello, nice to meet you.

Hi! Welcome.

I'm Andy.

I'm Nakamura, hello.

He's met by curator Nakamura Tadashi.

Shall we look around?

Yes, let's go.

Down here?

Follow me.

Behind the door are several flights of stairs.

They make their way deep underground.

Oh wow!

It's huge, right?

This is quite a shock.

I've got goosebumps.

The underground space is filled with a fossilized forest.

It's lain underground since it was buried by the Mt. Sanbe eruption four thousand years ago.

The museum is a place to conserve and exhibit a truly primeval forest.

It looks alive.

It's no longer a living organism.

But that also depends on your definition, I suppose.

The wood still absorbs moisture and then releases it.

It's essentially breathing, like a tree.

Wow.

The forest was discovered in 1983, when two trees appeared while a farmer was preparing a rice field.

Matsui Seiji, a local high-school teacher and Mt. Sanbe researcher, realized a forest had been buried by the eruption and began investigating.

A serious dig took place, which the museum curator joined.

It measures ten meters high from its roots.

We're the only place in the world to have found a tree that tall still standing, or to have dug one out.

So we're standing in a totally unique site right now.

A series of coincidences during the eruption led to this tree's miraculous survival.

It has stood on this spot for four thousand years, and is a vital resource for learning more about the environment of this era.

The museum opened in 2003 to exhibit this extraordinary find.

It's not just here - the forest extends beyond this wall.

Right, I guess it would.

All the way.

I suppose this whole region must have been forested, right?

Judging by the growth and spacing of these trees, there were at least a hundred of them.

Plenty more!

Exactly.

Andy is given a special tour, even deeper underground.

Visible here are the tree's roots, left deep in the earth.

These trees are still connected to the historic soil.

The original ground?

Still there.

The roots go all the way down.

Yes.

That's incredible.

It's extraordinary, and it's part of what makes them so special.

However, there's still water at that level, which is absorbed by the trees.

I see.

If the wood then touches the air, it begins to rot.

I see, yes.

One of the experts helping us preserve the trees says this is basically a massive experiment.

The museum has been operating for 20 years.

Various attempts have been made to preserve this ancient forest for future visitors.

The wood is now given a special coating to prevent any reaction to the air.

A well was also dug to lower the groundwater level and preserve the standing tree.

We talked about various options regarding how to preserve the tree.

One idea that came up was to cut the wood and its connection to the ground underneath it.

That would definitely help keep it preserved.

But of course, a large part of the tree's value is that its roots go down so far.

Of course.

We want to preserve that connection too.

So we've done everything we can to do that over the last twenty years.

And seeing this tree still just blows me away.

Coming here as a visitor, I would love to see the museum expand to include the rest of the forest.

I totally understand.

But I'm sure it's a complex issue!

It is, yes.

I'm guessing it's safer for the remaining trees to leave them as they are?

That's exactly right.

We plan to leave those trees that are still buried as they are for future generations.

You're protecting them.

Makes sense.

How do we engage with such important historical resources?

The museum's design shapes our relationship to the past.

Ah, here we are.

Back at the surface.

That was a really thought-provoking experience.

I can't stop thinking about the forest that sleeps right beneath our feet.

It's so exciting!

And this building itself is built in a very unusual way, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

The above-ground section of the museum was kept as low as possible so as not to intrude on the scenery.

In the spring, the roof will reveal greenery that matches its surroundings.

It's a landscape design woven into the epic history of this region around Mt. Sanbe.

I'd love to come back in the summer.

Please do!

Thank you so much for this incredible experience today.

Thank you for visiting us!