Charissa Brock, Bamboo: The Magazine of The American Bamboo Society
Judy Mulford, Los Angeles Basketry Guild Newsletter
American Craft
Fiberarts
Joseph Lapenta, Ikebana International
Choice
Book Description
Artist and writer Nancy Moore Bess set out to discover just how bamboo-crafted objects attained such heights in Japan. Her travels took her throughout the country and through centuries of accumulated artifacts. After five years of dedicated research and study, she has assembled an unparalleled collection of writings and photographs that uncover the hidden beauty of bamboo.
Bess unveils the boundless uses of this versatile material in Japan, ranging from the most elegant and refined to the most humble. She shows bamboo's applications in the garden and home, in the cherished accessories of the tea ceremony and flower arranging, and in an endless array of crafts from elaborate baskets to colorful kites and dolls.
With illuminating text and over 250 exquisite photographs, illustrations, and artwork, Bess reveals the intricacies and resources of this lovely versatile plant. She explores the Japanese reverence for bamboo's natural beauty, adding immeasurably to our knowledge of the Asian sensibility and lifestyle.
Publisher comments
Could you tell us a little about your background?
"I am fond of saying that I'm a basketmaker from California. It is true, but ... I have lived on the east coast more years than those early, influential ones in California. I learned to make baskets on 8th Avenue in New York City. Basketry is the focus of my professional life. I weave, teach, and exhibit. No matter where I travel, I find basketmakers and a conversation begins. Much of my first trip in Japan (11 months in 1986-87) was devoted to meeting basketmakers and watching them work."
What motivated you to write this book? / What got you started?
"When I first wrote the book proposal, I was thinking only of those basketmakers I had met in Japan -- how hard they worked, how varied their baskets, how ubiquitous basketry was in Japan. As the book topic broadened to include ALL of bamboo in Japan, I found that I had much to learn, and the research began. Each interview led to more library work. Each book in the library led to more interviews. It was a never-ending circle for five years. I still can't resist a good book that reveals something new to me about bamboo in Japan."
Could you tell us a little about the contents of the book?
"The main thesis of the book is that bamboo touches every aspect in daily life in Japan, even in urban Tokyo or Osaka. At first, everyone tends to think this is an overly 'romantic' approach; however, upon more careful examination (or reading of Bamboo in Japan), it becomes clear that, unlike other single 'material' in Japan, bamboo is linked to everything -- language, ritual, home life, food, design, art, and crafts. Other plants are important, pine and rice straw, for instance. But they don't have both the symbolism AND the practical use, it is 'either/or.' Only bamboo touches the everyday and the elegant, the practical and the elite, the farmer and the urban housewife. Only bamboo can go from kitchen zaru to the artwork of Living National Treasures."
What do you see as the centerpiece of the book? / Why is the book important?
"The marriage of text and illustration makes B in J successful. This bond allows the reader to penetrate the book at many different levels -- one can look at the illustrations, read only the captions, dive into one section or all. All the text and illustrations are tied to the main thesis -- bamboo touches every aspect of daily life in Japan -- so the impact is considerable.
"B in J is important, in part, because it hasn't been done before. Earlier English-language books on the topic of bamboo covered part of the story, but not all. This book offers everyone a chance to really read about this incredible plant in Japan and its many guises. Bamboo enchants, and B in J lets the reader experience this."
What did you yourself learn from writing the book?
"So many things ... some personal and emotional. I learned that I can't do everything, but I can be persistent and decide my priorities. I knew I was attracted to bamboo as a craft material, but I didn't realize how passionate I would become about bamboo as a plant. I'll never stop reading and learning about bamboo and never stop being an advocate for bamboo workers."
What would you like readers to take away with them after reading this book?
"I'd like people to acknowledge the bamboo craftspeople for their skill, vulnerability, and dedication. I'd like everyone to look to other cultures with an open mind and heart. I'd like them to walk down a lane in Japan and SEE the bamboo."
What people or books were influential in the writing of your book?
"The Japanese publications about bamboo and crafts were an amazing resource. I only wish I could read them myself and not have to rely on sections being translated for me. That separation between me and the information is troubling. I always think there is one more book I need to read, one more craftsperson I need to talk with, one more garden I need to photograph ... then I'll be on top of it. The bamboo enthusiasts in both Japan and the USA were amazing. We all share a common passion, and they were generous with information and, sometimes, funding. The Japan Bamboo Society in Kyoto was especially helpful, as was The American Bamboo Society here. I'd still be writing if ABS hadn't helped me out with grants!"
What are your plans for the future, in terms of new books or other projects?
"I don't think I'll ever stop the research on bamboo. At the moment, I am concentrating on gathering information about bamboo as a 'motif' in folk tales around the world. I suspect that will be my next book. However, the link to Japan will not be broken. I try to assist others who want to do research there; I keep in touch with bamboo folks there and with basketmakers; I get back whenever I can scramble together the money for a ticket. There is nothing like the feeling of flying into Narita or arriving on the night train into the bamboo region of Beppu -- that expectation of yet another wonderful bamboo moment!"
Is there anything else the reader should know?
"Find something you are passionate about and pursue it. Or borrow my passion, bamboo in Japan, and immerse yourself in another world."
About the author
Excerpted from Bamboo in Japan by Nancy Moore Bess, Bibi Wein. Copyright © 2001. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Minka and Bamboo [minus the original endnotes]
The importance of bamboo in Japanese architecture is illustrated most dramatically in the construction of minka--literally, "house of the people"--an architectural style during the feudal age that lasted about seven hundred years, from the late twelfth to the mid-nineteenth century. Minka share some construction details with buildings used by the noble class in the shoin and sukiya styles, while claiming some unique design characteristics to themselves--especially roof ridges and supports.
Perhaps the most distinctive feature associated with minka is the thatched roof, and it is here that bamboo's contribution to Japanese architecture is first identified. As traditionally constructed, an elaborate grid system of whole bamboo poles, tied in place with ropes of rice straw (wara) or split bamboo, supported the weight of these massive roofs. Visible only from the interior, or at the edges of the eaves outside, this network formed the skeletal system of the entire roofline. Occasionally, a simple open grid of bamboo poles was also placed over the thatch and lashed in place as an additional measure to secure the thatch from above. Quite simply constructed, this exterior grid was easy to repair or replace. A whole length of bamboo, sometimes complete with root ball, was a striking ornament across a roof ridge. Even during the Edo period, when building materials and styles were restricted by sumptuary laws, individual and regional tastes were expressed in the roofs of minka. Such creativity might be manifest in a roof ridge of bleached driftwood on the southern island of Shikoku, or an elaborate bamboo grid securing the thatched roofs of Taketomi Island in Okinawa.
In recent times, these extraordinarily dramatic buildings with their thick thatch and breathtakingly dynamic rooflines are less and less in practical use. Their maintenance is costly and time-consuming, and in an era of virtually ubiquitous air conditioning and microwave ovens, materials that are subject to insect infestation and mold, and need constant repairs, have little appeal. Fortunately, many excellent examples of this endangered architectural treasure have been preserved. Some minka have been restored to become restaurants and gift shops. A large number have been relocated to various park sites, such as Kawasaki Municipal Park of Japanese Houses (Kawasaki Shiritsu Nihon Minka-en), and have been made available to the general public for visits and to scholars for research. Many publications make the minka style accessible to an even larger audience. A fine example of restoration completed by an individual owner in Yufuin, Kyushu, has been documented by Amy Katoh.
Today, bamboo salvaged from inside the roofs of old minka enjoys a second life in the hands of contemporary designers and builders. When an ancient minka is torn down, the bamboo is saved for use in decorative architectural elements, or for crafts such as basketry, woven arm and wrist rests for calligraphy, and storage boxes. The rich color of this bamboo, called susudake--"soot bamboo"--darkened by years of exposure to the smoke of the hearth, is highly valued by interior designers, architects, and craftspeople. The surface areas where bamboo poles were originally lashed together remain somewhat lighter in color than the rest, and it is these variations in color, as well as the patina of age and soot, that make susudake so desirable. A thinner bamboo comes from a ceiling lattice (sunoko tenjo or amada) sometimes used inside minka. Open construction allowed the hearth smoke to move easily from the lower level to the upper rafters. Though this umbered bamboo lacks the dramatic scale of the larger roof supports, it is valued for smaller furniture and basketry. With the increasing scarcity of this beautiful material, craftspeople have tried to duplicate the subtleties of its color with dyeing techniques, but the rich patina is elusive and difficult to re-create.