Orii Koji is a traditional craftsman who uses a special technique to develop unique colors on copper panels less than 1mm thick. He talks about what goes into creating beautiful copperware.
"Direct Talk"
Our guest today is Orii Koji,
a traditional craftsman who specializes in coloring copperware.
He's developed a series of innovative original coloring techniques.
He's breathed new life into the world of traditional crafts.
Orii's exquisite and unique colors are highly acclaimed
not only in Japan but also overseas.
His work is turning heads around the world.
There's no shortage of applicants from across Japan
who are interested in working with Orii's company.
He shares the story behind his vibrant palette of colors.
The Alchemist of Copper Coloring
I developed a one-of-a-kind technique that no one else could do.
And we began to apply that to interior design, architecture,
and a variety of other areas in the hopes of tapping into new markets.
Takaoka City in Toyama Prefecture
has a centuries-old tradition of copperware making.
Buddhist statues, temple bells,
Buddhist altar fittings...
Takaoka copperware accounts for about 90% of
all domestic copper production
and is highly regarded worldwide.
Orii's workshop is situated in this storied metalworking district.
They specialize in coloring copper plates.
We give Takaoka copperware its color
by using chemicals and heat to create a chemical reaction
that causes color to emerge on the surface of the copper.
Because it's a chemical reaction,
you get patterns that are completely unique.
Also, the reaction time varies from summer to winter,
so it's difficult to control.
Orii is a third-generation craftsman
who now heads the copper coloring company started by his grandfather.
Their past work includes making lamp posts for the Imperial Palace.
They had an established reputation...
but Orii initially chose not to take over the family business,
and instead found a job at a tech company in Tokyo.
The work suited him well, and he lived a comfortable life. However...
Around that time in my life, my uncle said to me,
"If you don't take over the family business,
Orii Coloring Company will be no more."
"Are you sure that you're OK with that?"
That's what he asked me.
I was 26 when I made the decision to return to Toyama.
They say the economic bubble burst around 1991, '92.
But year-on-year sales for our company hadn't gone down that much up
until around 1996, when I returned.
So I felt like I'd come back at a good time.
But then,
'96, '97, '98, '99...
we entered a long period of time
where our company sales declined dramatically.
A lot of our subcontracting jobs were disappearing rapidly,
and I started to realize that
instead of just relying on intermediaries for all of our jobs
as we had been,
we had to now start manufacturing and selling our own original products.
Upon returning to the family business,
Orii first focused on honing his skill
at traditional Takaoka coloring techniques.
This is one of those methods, called "nuka-yaki."
"Nuka" means "rice bran,"
which is the thin outer layer of the rice grain.
Sometimes it refers to powdered rice germ.
Rice bran is mixed with salt and sulfur.
After adding water,
the mixture is applied to the copper and fired at a high temperature.
Then, a brush coated in an oxidizing agent such as vinegar
is used to polish the surface of the copper.
This is the result.
The salt and other components in the bran
react with the copper when heated,
producing different shades of color and a unique pattern.
Techniques such as these
have been guarded and passed down for generations.
But Orii began to realize that tradition alone would not be enough.
Unless we take these crafts into new fields
and develop new sales channels,
I don't think we'll be able to preserve traditional crafts,
like the techniques of Takaoka copperware.
So because of that, I started wanting to try something new.
Orii began to work on developing new coloring techniques.
Instead of coloring vases and other decorative objects,
he tried coloring thin copper plates
in the hopes of bringing their craft to a wider market.
But it was easier said than done.
The thin copper plates could not withstand the heat required
in the traditional coloring process, and would end up warped.
I had no idea what I was doing.
So I started trying different things
using different chemicals and adjusting the temperature.
For example, I thought it'd be interesting
to use a mixture of acidic and alkaline chemicals.
I was totally clueless.
The mixture in the beaker started bubbling
and smoke filled the entire workshop.
It was a disaster.
But through lots of trial and error,
I gradually gained experience,
and I started getting a sense of how the color would change
depending on the concentration of chemicals
or minute differences in temperature.
As I repeated the process, one day, by accident,
I created a complex texture of intertwining colors.
One year into his experiments,
Orii discovered a way to produce new colors on thin copper plates.
This is the color I created completely by chance on a thin plate.
I named it "Hanmon Kujaku."
Think of this copper plate as a canvas.
Here, you can find green, purple, brownish hues, reddish hues...
like the feathers of a peacock.
Orii was confident that
this color would open up a new world of possibilities for the company.
I thought it'd be cool if we made a table out of the material.
That's not traditional Takaoka copperware,
but I wanted to adapt the techniques
in a way that people could use in their daily lives.
Here's the prototype table that Orii created.
It was an innovative concept that
brought Takaoka copperware into the world of interior design.
But he was met with fierce opposition
from the company's veteran craftsman.
Our artisan who specialized in coloring cast copperware said to me,
"I color Takaoka copperware."
"That's why I'm here."
"Listen young man, this new direction you're taking,
your plan to focus on making and selling originals."
"I just can't go along with that."
Our veteran artisan quit.
And then our clients started to worry, they grew concerned.
"Sonny boy over at Orii's came back to the family business
and is trying to do new things,
and their artisan has quit."
"Does he really think he's going to be able to save the company?"
I heard things like that.
But actually, those kinds of comments got me fired up.
Orii's quest for new colors and textures continued.
I create this artificial patina, this copper rust,
and then I expose it to ammonia.
As soon as I open this, it'll turn cobalt blue.
Orii honed this technique and was eventually able to create this.
A color he calls "Orii Blue."
The patina is not monochromatic.
As you can see, there are some black in there,
some brown, some light blue.
It's a complex, spotted pattern.
The blue coloring is different from the traditional technique
used for Takaoka copperware vessels, jars, and so on.
And the intricate patterns are distinct
from the traditional bronze color.
I think that gives them a whole new look.
I looked at this copper plate as a big canvas
and came up with a new way to develop that patina, that copper rust.
And then, I established a process for
using ammonia to generate a cobalt blue patina on a large surface.
This is a one-of-a-kind technique that I developed,
and that finish is something only I could achieve.
So I realized this could be the way
we get more people interested in our work.
Orii began using this technique to apply color to clocks, vases,
and other familiar home decor items.
And because Orii's copper plates were highly adaptable,
they began to be used as decorations in museums
and as architectural materials in luxury hotels
and commercial facilities.
Metal castings are heavy,
and they're over five millimeters thick.
So a panel a meter or two long weighs hundreds of kilograms.
It'd be difficult to decorate with that.
But my panels were eight-tenths of a millimeter thick,
so even at a meter or two in length,
they weigh just 14 kilograms each.
So they're lightweight and have this never-before-seen patina.
And they're easy to install.
I think that's why people started using them as architectural materials.
Now, young artisans from all around Japan are knocking at Orii's door.
Twelve years ago, his company had just five employees.
Today, there are 16.
And while the average age of artisans industrywide is about 63,
the average age at Orii's factory is 35.
The ideas and designs proposed by these young artisans
have led to new items such as accessories and candleholders.
It's so much fun every day. I'm just eager to get to work.
Even if I fail at something I want to try harder.
And I'm filled with this desire to try different things.
We're working to draw more people from all over to Takaoka.
To give Takaoka a boost and help the copperware industry grow.
I think being a craftsperson should be a gainful vocation
and something to aspire to.
It has to become a cool, lively, gainful profession.
Otherwise, young people aren't going to want to get into it,
and no one is going to want to carry on the traditions.
Orii has also set his sights on the international market.
In recent years, he's been setting up booths at overseas trade fairs.
His wares are attracting attention in Europe and other parts of Asia.
He's also gotten into fashion.
He collaborates with designers
to create products that showcase his unique colors.
Most people aren't aware that
copper can be given dozens of different colors.
I get people abroad asking me, "What is this material?"
"These reds and browns and other colors, what's the material?"
So in that sense, awareness is still low,
which means there's a business opportunity for us.
It might take 5, 10, even 50 years,
but I want people to know that these copper patterns
were created in Takaoka, in Toyama, Japan.
My hope is that our craft becomes a part of people's daily lives
around the world.
(Do you have any words to live by?)
"Better to be the beak of a rooster than the rump of a bull."
In other words,
it's far better to be a leader in a small, limited sphere of influence
than it is to be a subordinate in a large group or organization.
That's what this saying expresses.
I myself was once part of a large organization.
In a situation like that,
you're at the bottom of the ladder, doing routine tasks.
I'd much rather be the big fish in a little pond,
constantly attempting new things.
That's the ideal for me,
and it's been something I've aspired to since I was little.
So I live by these words.