Kiri Tree





My Japanese English dictionary translates kiri ki as Paulownia wood,  named in honour of Queen Anna Pavlovna of The Netherlands (1795–1865), daughter of Tsar Paul I of Russia. But as I had never heard of paulownia, the translation was not of major use to me.

Kiri is a fast growing very soft hardwood tree, used in older days for boxes and dressers, as it is good against humidity, and supposedly even fire. It is light weight and works easily into simple fine boxes that are still used today for fine ceramics and painted scrolls.  Japanese put the provenance of an object on the box.  Americans threw these boxes away.  Metropolitan Museum, Boston Museum of Fine Arts, provenances lost.



last remainig root of our now gone tree

There was a big kiri tree in our back yard, but last year it got into trouble.  Roots like this were to blame.

 It started to take apart the house so the landlord decided it had to go.  When the tree people were cutting I asked if I could have a little of the wood.  They said it was OK, and asked what part I wanted.  I said, "All the big straight parts."

It was OK, and except for some amazing back pains from moving it to cover for the winter, it was OK.

I was not certain why I wanted it, but it was a beautiful tree, and I wasn't ready to yet say good by.  I had an idea of cutting a banjo or two out of some of it, but as people around here can tell you, I have enough banjos already.

Last week I got my real idea, and since then I have been using my big chisel and my little ax to work on the kiri tree.

Next week I will go out and buy some new urushi.  But I will have to use it outside and with gloves on as I have developed a strong reaction to the stuff over the years, but like some other things in my life, I just can't leave it along.

With any luck I will have something in time for October's exhibition in Yanaka.

Japanese Bump

Shitaya Jinja Festival 2012

I have been puzzling over the problem of bumping in Japan for years. 

 

Why is it that Japanese in stations in Tokyo can bounce off each other like Pachinko balls?  This is a culture famous for not touching. Shaking hands is still a novelty, yet on trains, in stations, even on crowded streets people think nothing of bumping into person after person as they progress along.  If you bumped into someone in New York, which can be every bit as crouded as Tokyo, it would run into strong talk or perhaps even blood.

 Why?  It is religion.

Ueno Station May 12, 2012

If you have ever attended a Tokyo matsuri, a Shinto religious festival, you will notice that an integral part of the thing is bumping and bouncing off each other. Not only do people think nothing of it, it is a central to the activity. It is part of the feeling, part of the fun. No excuses made, no surprises, or dirty looks, 200 people hauling a heavy mikoshi down a narrow alley requires, encourages, even embraces bumping. Even passers-by, innocent bystanders, expect bumping.

 

Fusuma Time

I arrived in Japan 23 years ago today.  To celebrate I decided to repair the fusuma.

Golden week rain

Golden week rain brought down the last of the cherry blossoms.  They had a good run this year.

 It also brought up the dogudami,

 under my studio mailbox.