Installation
"Woven Memories: Karamushi Textiles from Showa Village"
Shimmering, Swaying, Drifting—
Walk around,
Crawl under,
weave through,
Sit down and gaze in stillness.
From here, from there,
Take your time, no rush.
Sharpen your senses
and immerse yourself in this space.
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Showa Village in Fukushima Prefecture has long cultivated Karamushi (ramie), a fiber plant, to earn cash income.
They propagate it in spring by planting cut rhizomes, burn the sprouted shoots to ensure uniform growth and enclose with a fence made of Susuki (Miscanthus sinensis).It grows tall enough for harvest by summer, without being rubbed by the wind.
The carefully extracted fibers possess a beautiful luster and hue, once shipped as raw material for high-quality summer Kimono.
At the same time, the village also had a tradition of making their own clothing.
This was primarily done using hemp.
In this remote, mountainous village, isolated by heavy snow in winter, people would take tremendous time to make yarn by hand - tear the fiber into thin pieces, connect them one by one and twist - and weave it into a cloth with ground loom.
Today in Showa Village, these two traditions are being combined—ramie is now woven on ground looms.
Through demonstrations at the Karamushi Craft Museum and other venues, ground loom fabric made from ramie is woven every year.
This installation became possible thanks to the use of this fabric.
The fabric woven on a ground loom, where the warp is tensioned by the weaver’s own body, carries a unique undulation.
Unlike machine weaving, where the warp is fixed in place, and even different from handweaving on floor looms, which allow for more consistent tension, the ground loom creates a distinctive character.
Because the warp cannot be uniformly tensioned, the threads are allowed some freedom, resulting in a gentle, airy softness, a fluid drape, and an organic sense of space.
This installation was born from a desire to let people experience this wavering quality of ground loom-woven karamushi fabric with their own eyes and skin, engaging all five senses.
Set in Kuimaru Elementary School, surrounded by aged wooden beams and plastered walls, time flows gently under the crisp autumn air and the lush greenery of an ancient ginkgo tree at its peak.
The movement of the sun from the morning to the night and the change of strength and hues of light created ever-changing expressions.
What delighted me most was seeing young children freely playing in the space.
Not only did they walk around the fabric, but some crawled under the low-hanging sections, fully engaging their bodies in the experience.
Seeing them enjoy the space so wholeheartedly made me truly glad to have created it.
"Karamushi Fabric Floating in the Dark Night"
Although the installation was open during regular hours at Kuimaru Elementary School, we held an evening viewing session for one special night—aptly named “Karamushi Fabric Floating in the Dark Night.”
Kuimaru Elementary School, located at the edge of one settlement in the village, has few streetlights nearby.
When we illuminated the space, the fabric’s silhouette stood out sharply against the windows.
Occasionally, the headlights of passing cars cut a straight path on them.
At the other side, on the window of the hallway, the figure was mirrored in infinite layers.
Young people from the village and nearby communities gathered, enjoying the quiet night, sipping herbal tea together.
