On lovely Shikoku Island in Japan’s Inland Sea, there is a mighty river, the Yoshino, which since time immemorial has fertilised the valley bottoms when it floods. Thus, since the 6th or 7th century AD, indigo, a nutrient-greedy crop, has been cultivated along this valley, and indigo dyeing has been centred around Tokushima, the port where the river flows to the sea. Indigo was one of the few bright colours that have always been used for dyeing cloths, as despite the fact that during the Edo era (1603-1868) the Shogun imposed sumptuary laws, common people could wear these wonderful blues.
Today, there are still several indigo factories remaining in Tokushima and at each, this glorious blue dye is the basis for amazing dyed fabrics that are the hallmark of the area. I was lucky enough to be able to visit one of the oldest factories, where Toshiharu Furusho, designated a Contemporary Master Craftsman, creates astonishing indigo-dyed fabrics. I was taken there so generously by Keiko Kudo and Eri Itoi of the Kamiyama Artist in Residence programme, as I am in Kamiyama under KAIR’s auspices.
The process of indigo dyeing is long and complex; first, one has to produce the actual “dirt’ from which the dye is fermented. The indigo leaves are gathered, water is sprinkled on them, and they are placed under rice straw mats, which allow good air circulation, at a carefully maintained temperature for about 100 days minimum to ferment and turn into caked granules, which have a very particular pungent smell, not at all unpleasant.
The older dye factories rely on growers to produce this indigo “dirt” for them, but two younger factories, one a cooperative, are producing indigo from start to finish growing their own plants, producing the ingredients for the dyeing and then dying their own fabrics. The generations-old Furosho Factory relies on outside suppliers.
One of the 30 kg sacks of “dirt” is then placed into a temperature controlled vat and the process of producing the dye starts. That too is a complex, demanding process, for the dye needs to be stirred every two hours, with a ten hour respite for the midnight onwards period, for up to two weeks. The fermenting dye is a living, breathing entity, with not only a need for lime or wood ash lye but also, ironically, for sake (the higher the quality of the rice sake the better, apparently!) for its sugars. The natural indigo dye is called “sukumo” and the indigo produced in the Tokushima area is called Awa indigo. It permits a wonderful spectrum of clear to dark blue hues that are extraordinarily beautiful.
Once the fermented dye is ready, the actual dyeing process is again complex and varied in approach. Mindful of the variation to be achieved in hue and pattern, the dye is applied differently. One method is to use stencils, cut by hand in treated wash paper, or produced in yellow special plastic. The stencil is prepared, sometimes even with a combination of two stencils used, and a resist is placed where no dye is to be absorbed into the fabric.
The chosen stencil is prepared flat on the fabric, and a greased or clear wax resist smeared on the parts of the fabric to remain undyed.
Another dyeing method is by forms of tie dyeing. Shibori (resist dyeing or tie dyeing) is the traditional method, but there is also a way in which the threads are dyed in indigo first, and then the fabric is woven from the dyed threads. Luckily, in the Tokushima area and especially in the museum dedicated to indigo dyeing, there are examples of indigo dyeing that are more than 100 years old, testimony amongst other things to the natural insect repellent qualities of indigo.
The examples of shibori that I saw at the Furusho Factory were astonishing from various points of view. First of all, before the fabric goes into any vat of indigo dye, it needs to be gathered tightly into the pattern required so that only the exposed parts take up the dye when the fabric is dipped. This means one needs to know how to gather, knot or sew together the fabric to achieve the desired result.
The tightly bunched fabric is then immersed in the dye for a minute or more, according to requirements, removed, perhaps dipped again and drained. Ultimately it is then rinsed in clear water when the desired intensity of blue is achieved. There is also a large bath where the fabric is “whooshed” mechanically in the clear water if the piece dyed is very long.
Sadly I did not have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Toshiharu Furusho and his daughter as they were in Taiwan giving master classes in shibori dyeing. Nonetheless, there was a photograph of this master indigo dyeing craftsman that showed the joy and depth of his craft. I was so lucky to have glimpses into this complex, magical world of making great beauty from a humble blue flower in Tokushima, Japan.