What a striking, paste resist, indigo dyed cotton noren or door covering.  It is sewn from six panels which creates an almost monumental presence, the actual size being 68″ x 73″ or 163 cm x 185.5 cm.

Centrally placed is the large, mon, or  family crest, in this case it is an unusual, stylized rendering of kashiwa or oak.  Beneath the mon in stepped formation is the wonderfully zigzag matsukawa bishi or pine bark motif.This noren probably dates to the early twentieth century–perhaps just a bit earlier.  Its size indicates that it was probably meant to hang in front of a building; also indicative of this is the very tightly woven, heavy cotton which would have been strong enough to withstand the elements, street traffic and its dust and dirt.Notice how the matsukawa bishi pattern interlocks and creates another iteration of itself in the negative spaces?  Notice, too, how the selvedge edge of each panel is finished: each edge is back stitched in contrasting, white thread.This is a beautifully designed, beautifully executed old noren.

Today I am showing some photos that are about mood, texture and materials.The rolled and tied sashiko stitched cotton fragment sits in a hand carved soba noodle dough mixing bowl along with a ball of indigo, katazome dyed  Edo komon hemp cloth which was taken from a kamishimo.The massive wooden bowl, which was carved and hollowed from the cross section of a single tree, shows a metal plate that mends its lip.  The bowl’s wood is deeply colored, rich in patina and beautifully heavy.In the photo above, note the surface of the bowl’s interior.An old piece of indigo dyed cotton kasuri or ikat cloth is used to tie the sashiko stitched bundle.

I always look forward to posting images of excellent quality boro garments, which I’ve done a few times in the past and which I’m doing again today.

This is a marvelous, very heavily patched and mended boro work kimono, sometimes referred to as a nagagi.

What makes this a superlative coat is its age, the quality of the indigo dyed cottons (the yarns are hand spun and all the cloth is hand woven),  its broad, thick stitching, and the inclusion of some very interesting resist dyed cottons and some fantastic, old plaids.

The wear and the fading also contribute to the unconventional beauty of this coat; its soulfulness is the messenger of its appeal.  Most of the cloth used to stitch this coat dates to the mid-to-late nineteenth century: have a look at the photo, below, showing a patch on the coat’s sleeve: notice the katazome, or stencil resist dyed cloth which shows gradient stripes: the Japanese refer to this kind of optical striping as “waterfall.”  Again, below, look at the nice, big patch of beautifully faded katazome dyed cotton.  Of course the indigo dye used for all the cloth on this coat is botanical.

The coat’s back is almost three-dimensional from the profusion and layering of patches.  The stitching on some of the pieces is done in thick, white sashiko thread, creating a kind of tracery–a very interesting and delicate contrast to the body of the coat.

Tokyo’s Amuse Museum is now showing the boro collection of the esteemed ethnologist Mr. Chuzaburo Tanaka, whose extensive collection of boro garments–amassed over forty years–was acquired in one of Japan’s most remote and rural regions, Aomori Prefecture.

Please see the link to this phenomenal exhibition here. Those of you familiar with the book “Boro: Rags and Tatters from the Far North of Japan” will recognize this exhibition as the same collection shown in the book.

On the previous post, below this one, I showed a beautiful, cotton cloth printed on its front and back.  Today I’m showing yet another cloth that is wonderful on both of its sides.

This is a length of indigo dyed katazome hemp cloth that is heavily patched on one side; the reverse shows a beautiful, two-process katazome dyed pattern.  The hemp cloth is very finely woven.This hemp boro cloth is patched with hemp fragments, with the exception of the large, plain blue patch which is silk.  The mending stitches are really beautifully done, and some of them are quite intricate.The photos below show details of the katazome dyed pattern on the reverse side of the boro cloth shown above.   The dyed plaid repeat  is really elegant and subtle, and the technique used to stencil-resist dye the cloth is complex.

Note that the resist dyed pattern runs in two directions, which means the cloth needed to be resisted and dyed twice: once in indigo for the “east/west” stripes, then using a brown dyestuff for the “north/south” stripes.  The end result is just beautiful in its color and its design.

Shown here is an indigo dyed cotton, katazome furoshiki, or a traditional wrapping cloth.  Most likely this furoshiki, which dates to the late nineteenth or early twentieth century, comes from Japan’s eastern Tohoku region.

I’m fascinated by the strange repeat pattern composed of  upward and downward pointing triangles: even though there is a logic and order to the pattern, the way in which the three panels of this cloth are stitched together somehow misalign the field of the pattern, creating a kind of syncopated “white noise” of marks.

The stencil resist dyed katazome pattern is vaguely dissonant—and very unusual and beautiful.

The folding fan, a depiction of which is shown here, is a Japanese invention; the motif is used on cloth for different reasons: in some cases the folding fan is emblazoned as a family crest, in other cases it is shown as an auspicious symbol on wedding textiles as it symbolizes the “opening of things.”  Where marriage is concerned, the folding fan motif  suggests the beginning of, or opening up of, a new life.

The rustic and crudely dyed resist is attractive, I think:  have a look at the imperfect way that the pattern is resisted–the toothy hand woven cotton and the very inky indigo color enhance these imperfections, adding a luster of strange beauty to this country textile.