Fukui Prefecture lies on the coast of the Sea of Japan, in the central area of Japan's main island. 90% of Japan's eyeglasses are made here, along with Echizen lacquerware, which has a 1500-year history. It's also the home of Echizen washi paper, one of Japan's three major washi varieties. This is a hub for Japanese craftsmanship, and it's drawn a group of next-generation designers eager to respect tradition while adding value to new items. In Part 2, learn how tradition is leveraged to shape a creative region and join us on a design hunt in Fukui Prefecture!
Today, we're on a Design Hunt, exploring some unique, regional designs in Japan's Fukui Prefecture.
This region is known for its local eyewear industry.
While this town has made urushi lacquerware and washi paper for centuries.
One key figure in innovating local manufacturing and Fukui designs is Niiyama Naohiro.
He explores local resources, creates designs that add value, and runs community events.
His focus on creativity and craftsmanship has put him in the spotlight.
Today, he'll be giving us a tour of Fukui's ever-evolving arts, crafts, and manufacturing scene.
I just arrived in this middle part of prefecture called Sabae city, wold widely known as city of eyeware.
Well, let's find out what kind of design we found out today.
Here we go!
I've come to the neighborhood of Kawada, in the mountains beyond central Sabae.
It's home to several urushi lacquerware workshops, and is the base of designer Niiyama.
- Niiyama-san? Hi!
- Hello!
- I'm Niiyama, a pleasure.
- I'm Andy, great to meet you.
Welcome to Fukui!
I noticed several lacquerware
shops on my way here.
The area's known for
Echizen lacquerware.
This place too?
Kinkori Lacquerware, yes.
My design office is here.
I rent space from a lacquer artisan
who also uses the space.
- A nostalgic building.
- Isn't it?
Niiyama is from Osaka and heads a regionally focused creative studio of designers,
many of whom also come from outside of Fukui.
They work to revitalize local industries, taking on everything from graphics for local brands,
to designs that highlight Fukui culture and skills.
In 2019, they renovated their office into a small complex,
complete with lacquerware workshops, stores, and other spaces for visitors to experience Fukui design.
- Here we are.
- So many products!
There are!
Your group designed all of these?
Not all, but most.
Some are our own products, some
are client designs we helped with.
- Glasses, of course.
- That's right.
Now I want some sunglasses.
- Right.
- So cool!
They're made by a workshop
just down the road.
Nice!
Any issues with the nose bridge?
Not at all.
Although I'm not sure....
- My face is too big.
- Not at all!
- You really suit sunglasses.
- I own many pairs.
Japanese people often don't wear them.
- It feels a bit pretentious.
- A little, yes.
- There's some resistance.
- True.
So we came up with designs
to suit East Asian faces.
Interesting!
Designs are often focused
on fashion or function.
There aren't many "ordinary" sunglasses,
so we designed some.
- Great concept.
- Thank you.
What's down here?
They're fun!
Take a closer look.
They're pleated? Lovely.
- Made from corn.
- Plant fibers?
Yes, there's a company that does pleating.
Fukui has a thriving textile industry.
I see. So everything here
is made in Fukui Prefecture.
That's right.
There are seven local industries in a 10km radius around Sabae,
including textiles, glasses, lacquerware, and blades.
The region is known for this unusual diversity.
- Oh, earrings?
- That's right.
- Titanium?
- Yes.
Like the famous glasses.
Yes, Sabae was the very first to
develop titanium eyeglass frames.
And that expertise is used here too.
That's right.
I hear Shaula is visiting the workshop where these accessories are made!
Wow... take a look at that!
I mean, I've never seen glasses on the mountain before.
It's pretty cute!
Sabae is one of the three biggest eyewear producing regions in the world.
Over 96% of Japanese frames are made in Fukui, and many of those come from Sabae.
I'm visiting a manufacturer that has operated here for three generations.
Hi, nice to meet you.
I'm Shaula.
Welcome!
- Chic glasses!
- Just a white frame.
- Custom made?
- Yes!
The company lets you combine different frame colors and sizes...
...and also makes other accessories and items using the same materials.
How did this town come to produce glasses?
120 years ago, Sabae was all farmers.
Folks were shut in by snow in winter.
When looking for winter work,
they happened to choose glasses.
- Pure chance?
- That's right.
Now you do collaborations?
Yes, we use our core technology
to make other kinds of product.
These are the materials?
Yes, for eyeglasses.
And this is made from cotton.
Really? Cotton?
Yes, a cotton-based plastic.
- This, right here?
- Yes, mainly cotton.
I had no idea.
The frames are made from colored, plant-based plastic, pressed into sheets.
What does this machine do?
It carves out our frames.
We place the materials and
then it cuts them out.
- A channel for the lenses.
- I see the shape now.
It's clearer now, yes.
We cut out the shape with a blade.
Interesting.
- It's done?
- Let's open it up.
This is how they come out?
We just snap them out.
That's so cool!
Like a model kit.
- Or a figurine.
- Yeah!
This gets tossed.
That's quite a lot of waste.
With glasses, about 80% is wasted.
80%? It's just thrown away?
That's right.
- What a waste!
- It is.
Niiyama-san suggested using it
to make accessories.
That must feel good,
as the manufacturer.
It really does.
It's always fun to create things
that make people happy.
Niiyama's group proposed making accessories out of the waste material.
The designs emphasize the light, colorful, translucent materials, and apparently they're pretty popular.
Decades of experience making glasses helped the firm expand to accessories.
They were even able to use the same machinery.
Each item is finished by hand.
We cut them out like this.
It's efficient, less wasteful.
You can't keep up with demand?
- We can't rely on off-cuts anymore.
- They're that popular?
Yes. I think the texture and
colors appeal to customers.
Hopefully that sparks an interest
in our frames too.
Niiyama is showing me the very first product line he designed from the concept to the shop shelves.
Your designs go all
the way through to retail?
Yes, even the coolest designs
mean nothing alone.
Artisans want us on board
to sort out retail and logistics.
What's the best way for us to
handle that? Set up our own brand.
Makes sense.
By selling ourselves, we get
feedback for local makers too.
You're not just stopping at design.
You look at local assets.
- It's a virtuous cycle.
- I think so.
Niiyama studied architecture in university, and first came to Sabae on an art project,
staying for a month to create an artwork from local materials.
He was drawn to its manufacturing community, and moved here after graduation.
But despite the artisans' incredible skills, local products weren't selling.
Niiyama felt that the key lay in design, and decided to change course.
I announced to the artisans
I was going to become a designer.
They said, 'We hate designers.'
'They're nothing but conmen!'
- Ouch!
- Right?
- How did you react?
- I was confused.
- They'd had bad experiences?
- They said I didn't get it.
Lots of designers had come before.
Their ideas didn't sell.
They order what they want but don't
take responsibility for the output.
The artisans have to manage stock.
It's not fair.
So they hate designers.
- A lot of negative feelings.
- But it's a two-way street.
Artisans also have a responsibility
to sell what they make.
True.
As a former architect, I know
that design is about planning.
- I talked to artisans.
- Explained it all.
Even those who hated the idea
of design eventually came around.
You proved you got results.
And then won their trust.
Niiyama says this region was once home to many urushi resin tappers.
They would travel to distant mountains to find urushi, selling regional craftworks along the way.
They peddled blades and other items
along the way to collect resin.
They had a tradition of
sharing their local culture.
I wanted a modern version of that.
So I take works from local artisans
and sell them on my travels.
I open pop-up stalls in Tokyo department stores
and around the country.
- A modern peddler!
- Exactly.
This is the Goka neighborhood, in the city of Echizen.
An old shrine sits nestled in the mountains here, dedicated to the deity of paper.
The area has produced washi paper for centuries.
Two people take turns tipping a wooden frame into a rippling pool of paper fibers.
The region makes the huge sheets of washi used in sliding screens.
Each is carefully prepared by hand.
Fukui's high quality traditional Echizen washi is over 1,500 years old.
It's produced more than any other kind of washi.
This workshop is a century old, and continues to rely on traditional techniques.
Washi has always been women's work.
Huge sheets must be perfectly even.
We stay focused and completely
in sync with each other.
We don't even need to speak because
we share the same dedication.
Washi paper is a distillation of nature.
A gift of tree bark and water.
But the shrubs needed to make washi, such as mulberry, are starting to disappear.
We want to work but
don't have good materials.
It's getting worse, year by year.
It's a thorn in our side.
So the workshop turned to waste fruit and vegetables as a way to bring local washi into the future.
The idea actually came from Igarashi's son, Yuto.
Starting at just nine years old, he spent five years researching ways to make paper from food.
He'd use all sorts of things for his experiments.
Shells from peanuts or edamame
my husband was eating.
And it actually worked.
I was really shocked.
She arranged to pick up offcuts from a factory that prepares pre-sliced vegetables.
I make food paper from onions.
Lots of onion skins.
Igarashi took up the mantle and used her son's research to increase durability and develop usable products.
Once turned into fibers, the produce is mixed into the base ingredients for washi.
Then, traditional techniques are used to create this new paper by hand.
It's waste produce but they have
unique colors and textures.
I love how that's reflected
in the final product.
The warmth of washi paper with
the charm of the original ingredients.
I'm really proud of our product!
A wonderful project from a family of washi makers.
This new paper is green in every sense of the word!
Our next stop is a workshop that makes Echizen lacquerware, a tradition that goes back 1,500 years.
This is a workshop and store
for Kinkori lacquerware.
They lacquer stacked food serving
boxes like these over here.
They used to only work to order.
But we developed a relationship and
they started making their own products.
That's great.
- That's Kinkori-san.
- Hard at work.
Shall we go over?
- Excuse me.
- Hello.
A pleasure to meet you.
Kinkori-san?
Welcome.
- Sorry to disturb you.
- Not at all.
This workshop has been in business for 90 years.
Today it's run by two brothers.
The younger, Shoji, prepares the wood.
The workshop repairs and makes industrial lacquerware such as trays and serving boxes.
The elder, Masataka, handles the finishing and coating.
How long have you done this?
50 years now.
I'm the 3rd-generation head of this workshop.
I've been doing this every day for 50 years.
- What is this? A soba basket?
- For soba noodles.
It looks so simple, doesn't it?
It's incredibly sticky.
Very different from paint.
Urushi resin requires brushes
of human hair, not animal bristles.
A brush of human hair?
The hair's stored inside the handle.
You cut it to reveal fresh strands.
Like sharpening a pencil.
Wide brushes for trays and
such will last 15 or 20 years.
Wow.
What's the key to your work?
Keeping it even.
Otherwise it won't dry.
There are various techniques
for square items like this.
That's done for now.
- Already?
- Before our eyes.
There are tiny bubbles that will burst.
- And a few brushstrokes.
- I see.
Those will vanish too.
How do you feel about Niiyama?
About his group, and their projects?
Their work is hugely inspiring.
I cudgel my old brains into thinking
of what might sell. It's a big issue.
You're always tweaking and
updating your work.
Is that right?
Yes, and he was very generous
about lending us office space.
When we did the office up,
he did the same for his workspace.
He chose to open up and showcase
his love for urushi lacquer.
Now the workshop is a place to
celebrate his craftsmanship.
- Right here.
- That's right.
We inspire each other to keep growing.
- What a wonderful relationship.
- It really is, yes.
Niiyama wants to promote the passion of the local artisans.
He's been holding industry tourism events since 2015,
opening workshops to the public so they can see their work and buy their wares.
Today, the three-day event draws over 30,000 visitors.
In 2022, a new project was launched to update Fukui's traditional arts and crafts.
Niiyama matched seven local artisans with seven non-Fukui designers to come up with new products together.
The concept was everyday items for modern life.
These products were born out of a reimagining of Echizen lacquerware.
They were made by a fourth-generation lacquer workshop in Sabae.
I've come for a tour.
- Hello.
- Hello.
- I'm Shaula.
- Takahashi.
- Nice to meet you.
- It's a pleasure.
So this is your new line?
Yes, both a tray and a box.
- The trays also serve as lids.
- Perfect fit!
It can store dishes, and the top
can also be used as a tray.
How beautiful.
- It feels very modern.
- That was our goal, yes.
These are classic Echizen lacquerware?
Yes, mainly tea ceremony items
or boxes for special ornaments.
Those are our main items.
These are classic,
but don't use urushi.
They're mainly finished with spray guns.
A different coating that produces
a similar finish to urushi.
I guess I equated Echizen lacquerware
with urushi. Is that wrong?
Some places still use traditional
urushi techniques for everything.
But it's branched out so far today.
A fascinating industry to explore.
Echizen lacquerware has always adopted new techniques, evolving over the centuries.
It's become cheaper, sturdier, and easier to mass produce.
The region made an early shift to using plastics and paints.
But the key step in ensuring a perfect finish is the polishing stage.
After polishing.
- So smooth!
- Right?
I wondered if bumps were covered
by the paint, but not at all!
No, no.
It's wood so there will always be
bumps that paint can't even out.
Polishing defines the quality
of the finish. It's a vital step.
Their latest product draws on decades of expertise.
They updated their designs with designer Ishigami Ryoichi.
Their usual woodworking partner assembles the complex parts.
The coating uses natural pigments, painted by hand, with a clear coat of urethane.
These sections were airbrushed,
or airbrushed then wiped.
But it always ended up too thick.
We wanted to keep the woodgrain visible
under the color.
A hint of color that showcases the woodgrain.
Three shapes, and three colors that fit together perfectly, and add a bit of flair to everyday life.
Fukui has so much going for it.
There's a lot to look forward to.
I hope to see more designers like us
who are working locally.
Putting down roots in a region.
I totally agree.
We plan to start a school.
- Branching into education?
- That's the plan.
- Impressive! Thank you for today.
- Thank you for joining me.
- I've been inspired!
- Thank you!