Heian courtiers 1,200 years ago wore robes made of fabric dyed with medicinal herbs to produce colors of prayer for peace and to keep evil at bay. But most of these colors have been lost to time. Fascinated with these forgotten pigments, some Kyotoites are endeavoring to revive them and create new dyeing techniques. Discover how people have taken up the challenge by learning from the classics and the ancients, cultivating wild plants to be used for pigments, and making handcrafted garments.
Imperial Court culture flourished in Kyoto some 1,200 years ago.
Court nobility dressed in a rich range of ancient "colors of prayer" now lost over time.
An elusive purple dye, extracted in water, is now being restored to life.
I will keep trying until I come close
to these ancient colors.
The roots of madder, a perennial plant discovered growing in a town in the mountains of Kyoto,
has been found to generate an ancient color.
Age-old dyeing techniques create a new form of beauty which changes with the light.
This dye exists only in Japan.
We should proclaim, "This is amazing!"
Although some colors of prayer have been lost, others are kept in strict secrecy.
Core Kyoto reveals the beauty of these phantom dyes as seen through eyes captivated by their charms.
Some 1,200 years ago, aristocrats built villas in Saga-Arashiyama in western Kyoto as retreats away from court life.
Master dyer Okuda Yuusai runs a riverside workshop here.
Kyoto artisans use
what nature offers.
We take cues from fabric, water,
and colorants to yield natural images.
That is what I hope to
express through dyeing.
In his younger days, Okuda's kimono gained attention for designs resembling Western paintings.
Overseas marketing of those kimono induced a turning point.
When I visited a home in America
I found Japanese furnishings.
I was questioned about them,
and I was at a loss and embarrassed.
That prompted me to study the natural beauty
of plant dyeing derived from Japan's history.
Through his pursuit of ancient Japanese dyes and techniques, he stumbled upon a striking and precious color.
The imperial enthronement ceremony is a public declaration of the emperor's succession.
The design of the robes dates back to the imperial court 1,200 years ago.
The emperor alone wears this yellowish-brown hue, known as "korozen,"
so it is referred to as the "strictly forbidden color."
The production process has remained a secret through the centuries.
Okuda enjoyed the opportunity to participate in research into "korozen" at a Kyoto temple.
The moment he finally laid eyes on a genuine imperial robe, he noticed how light playing on the hue altered its color.
When I saw it, I couldn't express my astonishment.
I just knew that it was inherently Japanese.
Light causes red to appear in the yellowish-brown "korozen."
Japanese generally acknowledge that the sun
is red, so finding it in this shade is amazing.
The emperors' garment is said to be based on the Five Elements of Yin and Yang, which originated in China.
The theory holds that the five colors of yellow, green, red, white, and black
are at the heart of the universe -
with yellow, representing earth, ranking supreme in the center.
In China, the emperor was represented in an earth tone.
While in Japan, "korozen" reflected the supreme solar deity.
It was simply the most noble of all colors in the imperial court.
After three years of laborious effort, Okuda succeeded in reproducing "korozen" using natural plant-based dyes.
He utilized the "korozen" technique to create an original kimono incorporating traditional designs.
As light plays upon the surface, it reveals a hidden red hue in the dyed garment.
This dye exists only in Japan.
We should proclaim, "This is amazing!"
An associate professor at a university in Kyoto researches and has written books on ancient Japanese dyeing techniques.
In 2000, Aoki Masaaki was amazed by a bolt of cloth reproduced with ancient dyes.
When I tried to touch the purple cloth,
I couldn't decipher where it was.
The deep color seemed to
elude depth and perspective.
Maeda Ujo's cloth really
blew me away.
Kyoto researcher Maeda Ujou devoted his life to studying ancient Japanese dyes and their history.
He pursued dyeing at the request of the Imperial Household Agency and various shrines,
and left behind two books which continue to impact dyers today.
Maeda believed that some ancient dyes and colors were lost,
prior to the arrival of Western civilization and chemical dyes.
Ancient Japanese thought that natural phenomena resulted from the movement of spirits
which inhabited all things, provoking a sense of deep awe.
In 794, residents of the new capital stressed the importance of recognizing and praying to the deities in nature.
So, medicinal plants were used to dye garments worn by the nobility.
The plants were believed to hold a strong power to ward off evil which plagued both individuals and the nation at large.
From that point on, colors were expected to protect the aristocrats who wore them.
Maeda referred to these as the colors of prayer in his writings.
However, the colors were all but lost over time.
For some shades, substitutes were used in place of the strictly prescribed medicinal herbs, distorting the tints.
Moreover, the rise of the samurai led to emphasis on the beauty of form along with color,
and ancient dyeing techniques soon began to vanish.
Today, colors of prayer remain in rituals observed by the imperial family and shrines,
a testament to the reverence people still feel toward nature.
These aided Maeda's recreation of the ancient colors -
work which astounded Aoki and spurred him to research ancient colors himself.
Aoki found one clue in a legal code known as the "Engishiki,"
compiled in 927, which contains records of 34 colors used in that era.
Like Maeda, he pored over the document in search of the production process,
but "Engishiki" alone cannot provide the answers researchers seek.
"Engishiki" only lists materials without
offering detailed instructions,
such as the process or
how many times to dye the fabric.
Through repeated trial and error,
I hope to see a smidgeon of progress.
These t-shirts and stoles were dyed by Aoki, who opened a shop to promote the appeal of natural dyes.
The store offers items for everyday use, encouraging individuals to enjoy color in their daily lives.
They feel powerful to me,
partly due to the material.
I think these uniquely dyed garments are
suitable for both men and women.
The t-shirts are made from organically grown cotton.
Aoki hopes each product's natural finish will endear it to the user from the first touch.
I dye clothing that echoes the subdued feeling
unique to natural colorants.
Aoki challenges his skills and sensibility as he strives to produce ancient dyes.
Miyama, a town in central Kyoto Prefecture, has fields stretching
between mountains in an agricultural region known as the "low uplands."
Watabe Yasuko moved there in 1991.
She and other local residents run a group promoting wild grasses.
They produce teas using loquat leaves, horsetail, and other wild plants and nuts,
and engage in sales and other initiatives to protect Miyama's natural environment, agriculture, and lifestyle.
At its peak, Miyama's population was
about 10,000, but now it is less than 3,500.
It is difficult to protect
farmland these days.
Miyama is not alone.
The nation's population decrease has led to a serious social issue -
neglected mountainous farm regions.
One day, Watabe found a madder plant growing wild on her property.
This medicinal herb functions as a disinfectant and stimulates blood flow.
Since ancient times, the red color extracted from the plant's root has been known as "akane."
It represents the color of the sun, which is regarded as the source of life.
That view led samurai to dye the cords adorning their armor with this color of life as a prayer for victory.
However, the dyeing process was so time-consuming that it eventually faded away.
Watabe decided to cultivate the plant and revive "akane."
She was encouraged by the fact that madder is not damaged by deer and other wildlife that roam mountainous agricultural areas.
However, as the roots need three years to mature, cultivation across multiple fields is necessary for mass production.
It took Watabe five years of trial and error to achieve a stable yield.
If the madder spread more, it would
help preserve our mountainous farmland.
I see this land as a national treasure
that belongs to everyone,
and it should be protected and
passed down to the next generation.
This workshop in downtown Kyoto is dedicated to "Kyo-kanoko shibori," a colorful and complex tie-dyeing method.
Terada Yutaka handles everything from kimono planning to manufacturing and sales.
"Kyo-kanoko shibori" involves dyeing cloth intricately bound with thread.
The three-dimensional pattern created by the undyed white areas of bound cloth produces a beauty not found in other tie-dyeing techniques.
Terada has used plant-based dyes in his work for the past 20 years.
He relies on Watabe's madder in creating his products.
Madder has a strong yellow pigment, and extracting the desired red requires boiling the roots repeatedly at a high temperature.
Terada finds great appeal in the various colors produced by the plant.
This color gradation evokes
the evening sunset.
These are the colors of Japan.
Terada visits Miyama to participate in the madder harvesting.
He also assists in stimulating more demand for the dye.
We are actively linking agriculture,
dyers, and craftspeople -
by inviting them to try
the madder grown in Miyama.
Watabe leads the Nihon Akane Heritage Project.
Artists in traditional crafts gather and promote this ancient pigment through various products and activities.
In 2023, members collaborated with Yoshida Kanya, a puppeteer working in Japan's traditional puppet theater.
In Bunraku, puppets are manipulated to the accompaniment of storytelling and "shamisen" music.
In this ukiyo-e print, the colors in the costume of a female character that appears in classical theater,
differ from those produced with chemical dyes.
The project's challenge was to reproduce the female character's costume for Bunraku.
Terada visits dyer Yamagishi Kazuyuki, who specializes in multi-colored garments.
The character's costume features a hemp leaf pattern in "Kyo-kanoko shibori" that is said to have been popular among women in the early 1800s.
On this day, Yamagishi is dyeing the pattern in both madder and indigo.
The technique is called "taiko shibori," as the bundles resemble tiny "taiko" drums.
The areas to remain white are covered in plastic and bound with thread to prevent coloration.
This is key in controlling the dye, but even Yamagishi, with his 50 years in the trade, finds it challenging.
Natural dyes are permanent. If we
make a mistake, we ruin the entire bolt.
So we reviewed each step cautiously
and carefully as we proceeded.
Unlike chemicals, plant-based dyes offer no leeway for errors.
Moreover, if the plastic is left on too long, mold develops inside.
The entire process is a race against time.
With natural dyes, the more times the fabric is dyed, the darker the color.
However, this can damage the sensitive dye-resistant binding.
This time, I hit on the idea of creating
a dyeing solution from concentrated madder.
I couldn't attempt this until now,
as much madder is needed for tie-dyeing.
I could only get enough to dye a little thread,
but never a great quantity like 4 or 5kg.
So it never occurred to me
to do this before.
Terada's tie-dyeing skill and Watabe's achievement in cultivating madder ensure the successful revival of traditional "akane" colors.
Yamazaki Kazuki, known for his plant-based dyes, handled the indigo coloration in the fabric.
The plastic is removed to reveal their success in two different shades.
Aoki Masaaki, who is striving to reproduce ancient colors,
was a frequent visitor at Maeda Ujou's residence while Maeda was alive.
So, Maeda's family generously allowed him to view the late dyer's work - the first such viewing in quite a while.
It's amazing.
This is Maeda's successful reproduction of Asuka purple.
In ancient Japan, court rank was visibly differentiated by garment color.
Asuka purple indicated the highest rank among nobles.
The grace and dignity associated with the color are reflected in the dye.
Again, it saddens me to think that
I can't talk with the man himself.
Aoki's store has an in-house workshop.
Aoki had previously tried to reproduce Asuka purple.
Re-examining Maeda's fabric provided the impetus for him to, once again, take up the challenge.
He begins by immersing purple gromwell roots in hot water and stamping on them in homemade sandals to extract the dye.
He then uses the pigment to dye cloth.
He regularly checks to ensure that the temperature never exceeds 55 degrees Celsius.
Aoki has kept detailed records over the past 20 years since he initiated his work with ancient dyes.
As of 2023, he has already filled over 70 notebooks.
Craft and chemistry are
essential in dyeing.
Dyers respond to each situation on the spot.
They leave no records, so there's no reproducibility.
Chemists think in terms of reproducibility
but find it difficult to go with the flow.
I see myself
in the middle.
I would love to be a bridge
between chemists and craftspeople.
Asuka purple is said to be blackish with no dullness.
Dye, fix, rinse - these three steps are cyclically repeated.
The Nihon Akane Heritage Project held an exhibition in March 2023.
There, the Bunraku puppet's recreated costume made its debut.
The madder grown in Miyama and the domestically produced indigo
were used in the costume as natural plant-based dyes, both producing vivid yet gentle colors.
The patterns expressed in "Kyo-kanoko shibori" produce a three-dimensional appearance,
the depths further enhanced by the natural hues.
The patterns dyed with madder
and indigo stand out beautifully.
I imagine this reproduction
is very similar to the original.
At the exhibition, Yoshida offered a lecture and demonstration of how the Bunraku puppets are manipulated.
The fabric looks totally different
when in use.
The most important thing is
bringing it to life in the final product.
The puppet's movements breathe life into the traditional colors.
Aoki's effort to recreate Asuka purple is rewarded after one week of intense labor.
He has come closer to reproducing the deep purple shade associated with the man he highly respects - Maeda Ujou.
This is still a far cry from
Maeda's Asuka purple,
but it is the best
I have produced thus far.
I still have a long,
long way to go.
Okuda refrains from using the emperors' color himself,
instead engaging in freeform dyeing with chemical colorants which take advantage of seepage when immersed in water.
These jeans are chemically dyed in the yellowish-brown "korozen" which teases red to the surface when stimulated by light.
The colors of prayer, created by the ancients, reflect respect and gratitude toward plants, water, and other natural elements.
This practice lives on in the hearts of Kyotoites who pursue these phantom dyes.
We receive life from plants,
and that applies to dyes as well.
If people gave that some consideration,
the world might be a different place, I think.