Stitch in Japan

The three highlights of my Japan trip were the indigo dyeing, the gardens and, of course, stitch. We had three stitch experiences; one a workshop with the Japanese quilt artist Noriko Endo, then two visits; one to the magical sashiko museum, tucked away on the mountains to the west of Tokyo and another to the Museum of Quilt Art in Izumo. 

I will start with Noriko Endo, a renowned quilter who is famous for her confetti technique, creating quilt pictures which she calls Impressionist Quilts. These grew from her pondering how to make use of all those little bits of fabric that are the result of traditional quilting, too small to be used elsewhere. We were honoured to take part in a workshop led by her, and I came home with a partially finished picture which bears a vague resemblance to what I was trying to achieve, but entirely without the delicacy of colouring and stitch which her quilts embody.

Here she is showing how she builds up her images using layer upon layer of finely chopped pieces of coloured cloth. Her technique in creating her confetti pieces with narrow strips of fabric and a rotary cutter was amazing to watch, but one felt the need for steel finger tips when trying it out!

Her studio was full of examples of her quilts, which were very reminiscent of the impressionist movement, but with her own Japanese aesthetic and feeling for landscape.

Once we had been shown both her work and how she achieved it, we all sat down at a table where our backing fabric, some wadding, a piece of black fabric, some black net, and our tools were artistically laid out. Great bags of fabric strips separated into colour families awaited us and we gathered bits together and got to work with the cutter, chopping, sprinkling, and layering (keeping fingers out of the way!)

Her assistants were there to help us with the background: little bits of fabric scattered; greens browns and golds for trees; a smattering of ochre and grey for a path running slantways across the middle and more green for grass in front of the path. Once that was achieved a layer of fine black net was laid over the background and we were shown how to cut the piece of black fabric into an approximation of tree trunks and branches. These were positioned on the composition, then Noriko came around with her "little posts of magic": small tubs with very finely chopped scraps of purple, green, orange and black. These were applied by her, and another layer of fine black net pinned carefully down over the whole. Then we stitched the entire piece with invisible thread and a wriggling, meandering vermicelli'ish pattern to immobilise the various bits of fabric beneath their layers of net. The final stage, not completed on the day, is to use machine embroidery to add the shaping and highlights on the boles of the trees so that they look 3D and are blended into the image. 

Here you can see how it should be done

My effort, unfinished, is rather dark and mysterious, but I am hoping that a bit of machine embroidery on the trunks and perhaps some more greens and golds with stitch will bring it slightly closer to a viable image!

A close up of the anchoring stitches

At the end of the workshop we were all pretty happy with what we had managed as compete novices. There was much shoulder rolling, finger wriggling and easing out of kinked necks before, bowing our thanks to our delightful host and her assistants, we took our leave.

The following day we drove out of Tokyo and up into the mountains to visit the sashiko studio of Ginza Akie. Crossing the red bridge we found ourselves in a magical space, surrounded by trees, green growth and early spring blossom. 

Here we were treated to a tour of the museum, crammed full of displays of the most beautiful sashiko stitching on wall hangings, cushions, door curtains and garments. We also watched a video about her life, which told us how, after the breakdown of her marriage, she had used all her courage, resourcefulness and hard work to build up a business reviving the art of sashiko, updating it for the times she was living in and teaching others the skill. 

The sashiko displays were up in some steep stairs in a wonderful warren of little rooms and corridors with steps up and down and dead ends. The main rooms on the ground floor were just as mysterious, with subdued lighting and walls and shelves full of the most fascinating collection of objects she has amassed over a long life. 

She was an extraordinary tiny little bird of a woman, with soft grey hair piled on top of her head and a very shrewd gaze, as you can see if you pop over to her Instagram feed here, where you will find more images of her sashiko.

The following day we had journeyed south from Tokyo to Izumo, where we visited the Quilt Museum, nestled in a patchwork of green fields, with the distant mountains a blue ripple on the horizon. 

The museum houses the stunning quilts of Mutsuko Yawatagaki. The displays are changed to reflect the seasons and each quilt embodies a mastery of colour, stitch and design all brought together into one softly shimmering whole. She constructs them from vintage kimono silks. Her detailed piecing and placement of colours results in a delicately nuanced imagery. This is enhanced by subtle quilting which draws the eye around the whole. We were asked not to take photos within the house, so I can only show you the garden and surroundings, but a quick search on Google wil bring you lots of images of her beautiful quilts. 

At the end of our tour we were seated and offered green tea and delicious (though very sweet) little cakes all laid out with the customary Japanese attention to beautiful presentation.

It was a refreshing end to a wonderful afternoon's textile pleasure.