Legend of Karakuri

On your screen, is a remarkable discovery: The remnants of a unique wooden puppet set.

We think it existed in 1755.
So it's probably around 270 years old.

It was lost, and then they found this.

It's amazing it survived at all.

The remains belong to a set of traditional Japanese automata known as "karakuri."

At an estimated 270 years old, they are thought to be one of the oldest surviving examples in Japan.

And the task of recreating their former glory is entrusted to one of the foremost figures still working in this field.

He is the ninth in a long line of karakuri craftsmen that goes back to the 18th century.

And his name is Tamaya Shobe IX.

Tamaya's peerless skills have helped restore and recreate countless karakuri dating back centuries.

And mechanisms created using mainly wood and twine give these antique automata a disarmingly lifelike range of motion.

Pull a cord, and this one fires an arrow.

First, I'll wind it up...

While this clockwork example carries a teacup; and all without a battery in sight.

Placing the teacup here
depresses the arms.

And that activates the mechanism.

It was very impressive.
The sense of fun really comes across.

It's amazing to think that
these are Japan's oldest robots.

Tamaya has a long track record of building karakuri, and repairing examples sent from all over Japan.

Very striking!

- What a great face.
- It is great.

His reputation has even traveled as far as the UK.

Tamaya Shobe is the ninth generation to work in this craft.

People understand lightly, but these very highly crafted objects are resulted in the long preservation of tradition at cultivation of passing technique and careful transmission.

But this latest task will test even his skills to their absolute limit.

It's a tough ask. Really tough.

You think you've solved one problem,
and the next one comes up.

And this momentous challenge will also be the first major assignment on which Tamaya has worked alongside the son who is training to be his successor.

Join us as we follow 68-year-old craftsman Tamaya Shobe IX...

For many years the keeper of the flame of this Japanese tradition...

As he takes on the challenge of a lifetime preserving the Legend of Karakuri.

Handa is a city in Aichi Prefecture, central Japan.

It's home to a number of traditional festivals where karakuri puppets mounted on vast wheeled floats have wowed spectators since samurai times.

And more recently, this heritage also underpinned a remarkable discovery.

In 2016, from the archives of the city's museum, emerged a long-forgotten karakuri set thought to date back to the 1750s.

It comprises two figures...

a sacred sword...

...and a serpent.

Along with what appears to be a tree.

But what did they look like in their original form?

A shrine in Handa's Okkawa district yielded an invaluable clue.

This scene shows it in action.

It's a picture scroll from 1755, depicting a local festival.

The caption reads "Kogarasumaru comes to the rescue in a dream."

This refers to a scene from a classical Japanese text called the "Genpei Seisuiki."

It tells of the warrior "Taira no Tadamori," attacked in a dream by a giant snake.

A sacred flying sword comes to his aid, chasing away the serpent.

The unearthed karakuri set seems to match this depiction.

And locals from Okkawa have earnestly embraced the discovery.

Our ancestors left us something special.
It's a part of our cultural heritage.

As Okkawa people, we are so proud
that this scroll was preserved.

It's a testament to our festival's history.

I think it's a sign of how important
karakuri are to local people.

And how much they
look forward to seeing them.

Recreating these long-lost puppets became a local cause celebre, with the local government and residents alike chipping in to fund the endeavor.

In 2019, they contacted karakuri craftsman Tamaya Shobe IX, who visited Okkawa in person to conduct his background research.

September 2021, in the prefectural capital, Nagoya.

We find Tamaya in his workshop, hard at work on the recreation project with the help of two apprentices.

This should do for the serpent...

With the original puppets and a host of other resources at hand, Tamaya is working on the serpent's head.

This is how we carve the basic shape.

He begins by carving a rough outline from a wooden block.

But it will take a further two weeks to carve out the fine details of the face.

Between work on the puppets themselves, Tamaya spends his time pondering the tree.

It's thought that in the original set, the serpent would have climbed this structure.

This fits in here.
And it's connected to three strings.

This mechanism moves the snake.

This fits on here.

And the serpent moves like this.

It moves from branch to branch, like so.

Tamaya has already spent two years researching the likely mechanism for this puppet.

This karakuri set comprises Tadamori, a divine messenger, an enchanted sword, the serpent and the tree.

After the serpent attacks it is vanquished by the blade.

And it's thought that a highlight of the mechanical spectacle would have been the serpent climbing the tree.

Tamaya envisages a complex system of pulleys that lets the serpent slither wildly from branch to branch.

It was in the Edo period that the karakuri tradition became firmly established.

And in the sixteen hundreds, modern-day Aichi gained festivals with moving puppets mounted on vast wheeled floats known as dashi.

Later came booths, where crowds could enjoy the spectacle of individual karakuri, which won a huge fanbase with their surprisingly lifelike motions.

And as craftsmen competed to create the most remarkable pieces, it drove the evolution of technical expertise that has since been branded the origin of Japanese robotics.

These inventors' vision and ingenuity is reflected in the puppets' internal workings.

And this period is seen as a key milestone in the evolution of modern Japan's much-vaunted craft and manufacturing.

Inuyama is another town in Aichi Prefecture.

The annual Inuyama festival is recognized by the UNESCO World Heritage Committee for its 13 enormous dashi floats...

adorned with puppets that uphold the karakuri tradition by precisely recreating their Edo period predecessors.

The town is also home to one of Japan's few museums dedicated to karakuri.

Inside are 36 unique pieces, including some former festival attractions.

There are even puppets crafted by previous holders of the Tamaya Shobe name.

Tamaya Shobe IX himself makes weekly visits to the museum.

Good morning.

His duties include vital maintenance on display models.

The slightest disalignment of components or strings can render a puppet unable to move.

Pieces from festival floats are manually operated by pulling on chords.

With even the simplest motions depending on a complex arrangement of pulleys and cables.

And Tamaya's contributions are vital to keeping these puppets alive.

There's nobody else with his skills.

There are skilled carvers of icons and
noh masks who could make the faces.

But for karakuri craftspeople it's
about the overall construction.

Carving faces, designing mechanisms,
a real combination of skills.

Historically, such individuals are rare.

And he's the only traditional expert left.

Back at the workshop, Tamaya has made a big decision about the team for this project.

Hey, Itsuki.
We need to carve grooves in the trunk.

So why don't we copy the original,
and trace those lines onto this one?

His son Itsuki, aged 23, is in his fifth year of training in karakuri craft.

And for the first time Tamaya has decided to bring him on board for a major project.

- Can you start it off?
- Let's do it together.

- I can't see the router tip.
- I can.

- Here goes.
- Go on.

Using a router, they cut grooves into the replica tree.

OK, stop it there.

The serpent will move along these grooves.

Strictly speaking, it's unheard of for an apprentice to work on the all-important mechanisms of karakuri.

But Tamaya has decided to trust Itsuki with this extra responsibility.

I'm getting on, so he has to learn now.

I could die tomorrow, or in ten years.

And if he's not ready,
the Tamaya line will die out.

Instead of just watching, to really learn
this job you must use the actual tools.

Making carving decisions for yourself
ensures those lessons stay with you.

Can you take the top down for me?

Two months later, and work on the grooves in the tree trunk has moved on to the next phase.

They need to adjust things to make sure that the toggle that attaches to the serpent's jaw can pass smoothly through the grooves.

That needs to pass through smoothly.

Maybe the channel needs to be taller.

To accommodate the toggle, they add a trapezoidal channel beneath the initial groove.

But as the inner channel can't be seen from the surface, carving has to be done primarily by feel.

It's a painstaking process of trial and error.

And if this step isn't perfect, the mechanism won't work.

I just can't seem to get it clean.

Q: What do you mean by "clean"?

The inside is all rough
and full of debris.

Inside the channel.

This is the hardest part.

The serpent climbing the tree
is the main attraction.

And that's the fun of karakuri:
how to conceal those workings.

Ultimately, the essence of karakuri-craft lies in the parts that aren't visible to observers.

I took things for granted.

My path in life is more like a railroad,
all laid out ahead of me.

And all I have to do is follow
the path my dad made for me.

In high school, that seemed like a cinch.

But I've realized how naïve I was.

Dad seems to breeze through his work.

And I thought if it was that easy,
then I could do it too.

But that was naïve of me.

He's had to struggle
to get to where he is.

This plant in Aichi Prefecture belongs to a major auto parts manufacturer.

But even here, they use approaches borrowed directly from karakuri.

Good afternoon.

One was inspired by this traditional tea-serving karakuri.

Placing an object on its tray automatically sets its cogs in motion.

And this cart uses a similar concept to transport heavy components.

Durable, and with no need for electricity, it's an essential item in a manufacturing environment where efficiency is paramount.

Karakuri are a source of simple,
compact mechanisms.

And we see that as a basis
for very efficient devices.

Moving forward, we are committed
to preserving karakuri technology.

Three centuries on from their heyday, karakuri technology is still supporting industry today.

There are now less than three months left to go on the karakuri recreation project.

Tamaya gets down to carving some delicate bamboo strips...

Which he then shapes into hoops.

Before tying them together with twine.

Here's what I'm aiming for.

Moves like a snake, doesn't it?

This is how to achieve that.

But it's a lot of work!

Inspired by the bones of a snake, the finished article will use 136 hoops in total.

And the repetitive task goes on for ten days.

Q: Where do you get your motivation
to make things?

Where, I wonder...

I guess I just like making things.

I aim to make quality items even if
it takes a lot of time and effort.

You have to like making stuff to do this.

One by one, carving bamboo,
winding twine, gluing stuff...

It's because I like making things
that I can stand doing all this.

Is that the same as motivation?

Tamaya has enjoyed making things ever since he was young.

Born by the name of Takashina Shoji, he was the third son of karakuri craftsman Tamaya Shobe VII.

And through childhood days spent in his father's workshop, he developed a natural affinity for karakuri.

But after graduating from middle school, he rejected the family business in favor of a succession of part time jobs.

There wasn't even the faintest sense
that I wanted to be a dollmaker.

As the third son, I felt free from pressure.

I thought I'd like to open a cafe,
perhaps with a billiard table in it.

Or I dug jeans, so maybe a jeans shop.

I never really thought about
what I wanted to do.

But at the age of 25, his father demanded he give up his fancy-free lifestyle and return to help with the family business.

It was an unexpected start to his life as a karakuri craftsman.

My dad, Tamaya Shobe VII;
and my brother, Tamaya Shobe VIII.

Dad was strict. Really strict.

Do this, do that.

And sub-par work just got junked.

Tamaya Shobe VII was a hard taskmaster.

And there was one lesson in particular that he drove home day after day.

My dad used to say to me: "It's no good fixing things if
they break again in a year or two."

He always said to make sure your
work would last for 50 or 100 years.

You don't want people to say that
Tamaya repair jobs break after a year.

Shoddy work would bring shame,
to me and to the Tamaya name.

So dad always said to avoid that.

But it was only after his brother, who initially took over the family mantle, was suddenly stricken with cancer, that Tamaya assumed his craftsman's name at the age of 41.

And though there were times when work was so scarce that carrying on became a struggle, through it all Tamaya has rigorously upheld the family heritage.

Then, 16 years after becoming Tamaya Shobe IX, a major assignment came his way.

He was tasked with recreating an antique writing karakuri that was found in the city of Anjo, also in Aichi Prefecture.

But years of damage and decay to the original had left its precise inner workings a mystery.

Fearing it was an impossible task, Tamaya nonetheless dedicated a year of painstaking experimentation to reviving this long-lost technology.

And eventually: The puppet was successfully reborn.

It uses two brushes to write the characters for "bamboo" and "pine" in classical script.

Now, 27 years since taking over the family business, Tamaya remains as committed as ever to preserving knowhow passed down from the Edo period.

Perhaps it's the weight
of the Tamaya name...

People already trust the Tamaya name
to guarantee high-quality work.

So I want to go above and beyond that.

This is a traditional glue made from the fatty residue left by boiling down the skin and bones of cattle.

It's mixed with powdered seashells to create the porcelain skin tone of karakuri puppets.

The precise recipe and technique have been handed down through the Tamaya line for centuries.

Multiple coats are applied over a ten-day period.

And once the painting is over, each piece is carefully sanded down...

creating the smooth finish that gives the dolls their mysterious charm.

This serpent looks a bit too friendly.
We have to make it scarier.

First the eyes: Right now, we've got
small inner and large outer circles.

Black those out into larger circles.

- Everything OK?
- Yes.

The slightest slip up with a paintbrush can irreparably spoil a piece.

For generations the painting in of facial features has been reserved for holders of the Tamaya name.

But here, to make the serpent look more fierce, it is Itsuki who carefully paints over the traced guidelines.

Since he was small, I've taught him
how to draw and use a paintbrush.

But he still lacks confidence.

He has to get that by painting for himself.

Having repainted the pupils, as a finishing touch, Itsuki adds fine, bloodshot lines to the serpent's eyes to further deepen the air of ferocity.

Finally, after more than three hours of painting, it's ready for inspection.

What fine lines!

Well done. Just the ticket.

It's much scarier now.
With more clearly defined features.

Itsuki is finally able to crack a smile.

That evening, the father-and-son pair head out together.

They've come for a game of billiards, Tamaya's hobby of 50 years.

For the last five years, they've been coming here together, for some vital relaxation and bonding.

Whoops! I scuffed it.

That happens when I try too hard.
How embarrassing.

Come on, you go first.
I've got stage fright.

What's wrong with me?

Nice shot.

Is it going in?

The eightball? Carry on.

What, again?!

You're lifting your cue too high.

- You're striking the top of the ball.
- Sorry. Got it. Go ahead.

And the friendly filial competition carries on late into the night.

Back at the workshop, the climbing snake mechanism of the tree is reaching a crucial stage.

Tamaya is chiseling out several patches around curves in the grooves.

As the toggle moves through the groove,
the string will rub against these curves.

So, to aid the smooth passage,
I'm replacing the wood of the bends.

This is boxwood.

Right now, the whole thing is cypress,
but I'll sub in boxwood on the bends.

And if we work this to a smooth finish,
that reduces string friction and breakage.

He plans to insert boxwood for major curves in the course of the groove.

Boxwood is hard and durable, and can be worked to an incredibly smooth finish.

This addition helps to reduce string breakage, which extends the lifespan of the mechanism.

And such fine attention to detail is vital to the construction of wooden karakuri puppets.

The toggle now passes smoothly through the groove.

However, a month out from the deadline, an unexpected problem arises.

Tamaya lays the drawstring along the final course of the groove.

This toggle is for the serpent.
It affixes to his jaw like so.

Then it fits in here.

And when you pull the cord,
it climbs the tree like so, see?

Hmm, it's gotten caught.

For some reason, it's not working smoothly.

Whoops.

Obviously, we need to secure
the toggle to the jaw.

But even with the toggle secured, the serpent still doesn't climb the tree as expected.

Tamaya suspects it's because the serpent's body is too heavy.

Q: How is it moving now?

It does climb. But we need support
strings at the middle and tip of the tail.

To help lift up the tail as we go.

I need to work out how much to lift
the body, and where to fit the string.

Tamaya decides to add extra strings to the middle and tip of the serpent's tail to disperse the weight more evenly.

But while the tail tip is an easy choice, the precise positioning of the second string can dramatically change how the puppet moves.

Can you lower it down a bit,
then pull on the body?

Hard. That's it.

Pulling it here twists the face round too...

Pull here... And here...

A bit lower... Slacken the body.

It's still no good...

Finding the right position for the central support cord takes careful trial and error.

Tamaya experiments with multiple positions, moving the attachment point one centimeter at a time.

And, after two hours of experimentation...

sweaty, slippery palms are further complicating matters.

Fine-tuning of the serpent remains a challenge right up to the eleventh hour.

The puppets are ready for one last check before their final delivery.

Itsuki, can you help me out here?

There.

Is that right? Is it in the middle?

They check the mechanisms of each puppet.

Ah, that's it.

First, the divine messenger.

OK, here goes.

The defeat of the serpent is greeted by a golden fan emerging from within the divine messenger's body.

Next to check the highlight of the show...

And the serpent slithers up the tree.

Can you pull the middle a bit more?

Aided by the extra cords on the torso, they pull the serpent all the way up.

And once there, the creature comes to rest, glowering down balefully.

The final test has been a success.

The day has finally arrived for the resurrected karakuri to return to Okkawa.

Tamaya provides a local team with guidance on how to operate his recreation.

They'll spend the next six months learning which cords to pull and when.

Tadamori moves like this.

The warrior noble Taira no Tadamori is attacked in a dream by the monstrous serpent.

And to his rescue comes the sacred sword Kogarasumaru.

It moves of its own accord to vanquish the beast.

Which escapes to the top of the tree to scowl down at its conquerors.

And, with the legend having reached its conclusion...

The divine messenger takes center stage.

Right, let's turn him around.

He turns, like so.

Now bend over.

With the serpent successfully defeated...

The golden fan appears as a symbol of good fortune.

Lift the right leg. Right.

This karakuri set will get its festival debut in spring 2023.

And until then, these locals will practice hard to bring the puppets to life.

They've made us something wonderful.
It's soul-stirring stuff.

People saw this 200 years ago.

It really brings to life the times
depicted in the Okkawa scrolls.

I think it's been a real success.

The best bit is delivering the final piece
and seeing everybody's smiling faces.

And hearing their praise.

I'm really glad to see
everyone so happy.

My hope for the future
is to surpass Tamaya Shobe IX.

That's the final goal, but first I need
to be able to make puppets like him.

You'll surpass me alright!