SAGA, Nov 08 (News On Japan) –
A scarcity of domestically produced lacquer, important for restoring Japan’s cultural properties, has reached a vital level. For centuries, lacquer—or urushi—has been integral to conventional crafts and nationwide treasures, however manufacturing has fallen sharply.
One 83-year-old man, Masami Watanabe, is now dedicating his later years to preserving this fading custom.
Watanabe, who lives in Chikushino City, serves as chairman of the Tosu Urushi Association in Saga Prefecture. Standing in a small plantation he helped clear from what was as soon as pure forest, he appears to be like over 40 lacquer bushes. “There used to be a shrine above here, and after the rain the greenery is beautiful,” he says. “It took clearing the land to finally make an urushi field.” His mission is pressing: in Kyushu, there at the moment are nearly no bushes left appropriate for tapping lacquer. “Maybe it’s my job to tell people about this before it’s too late,” he provides.
The Cultural Affairs Agency issued a discover ten years in the past requiring using home lacquer for the restoration of cultural property. Yet about 93 p.c of lacquer presently distributed in Japan is imported from China. While annual restoration tasks require round 2.2 tons of Japanese lacquer, home output in 2024 was only one.8 tons. To fill the hole, Watanabe based the Tosu Urushi Association 4 years in the past, persevering with to plant lacquer bushes and lift consciousness to guard Japan’s lacquer heritage.
Recently, researchers from the Forestry and Forest Products Research Institute visited his plantation to watch tree progress. “Normally, lacquer doesn’t sprout like this,” mentioned fellow researcher Masashige Tabata. “It’s reacting to stress. If roots don’t spread properly, the tree won’t grow.” From a single tree, solely about 200 grams of lacquer may be collected—a reminder of how restricted and labor-intensive manufacturing stays.
Another main problem is urushiol, the skin-irritating compound that causes extreme rashes. “When you break a leaf, the white sap that comes out is what causes the reaction,” defined Tabata. Watanabe has lengthy endured these rashes however continues his work undeterred. “I actually started out selling lacquerware,” he says. “But people know so little about lacquer, so I decided I had to grow it myself. It’s a tough reality—there are land and cost issues—but someone has to do it.”
At his dwelling, a lacquer tree he planted 25 years in the past has now grown eight meters tall. “I put it here temporarily, and before I knew it, it got big,” he laughs. Each day, he searches for tactics to extend lacquer manufacturing, decided to revive an artwork that has sustained Japan for millennia.
Alongside his preservation work, Watanabe runs a craft store showcasing lacquerware from throughout Japan, together with the standard “Negoro-nuri” type. “Everyone uses lacquerware bowls for miso soup,” he says. “It’s part of daily life.” The extra lacquerware is used, the deeper its luster turns into—one thing Watanabe calls the fabric’s “infinite potential.” Demonstrating a repaired bowl, he factors out, “Look, it was cracked, but I glued it entirely with lacquer—it’s incredibly strong. This is another way lacquer can be used.” He smiles as he provides, “If kintsugi restoration can add value, that makes me happy.”
“I do this simply because I love lacquer,” Watanabe says. “It’s about connection—passing something on. The answers don’t come right away, but I’m grateful for what lacquer gives us. It’s a gift of life.”
Source: RKB毎日放送NEWS