{"id":214,"date":"2023-01-05T14:41:16","date_gmt":"2023-01-05T19:41:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/?p=214"},"modified":"2023-01-25T19:38:06","modified_gmt":"2023-01-26T00:38:06","slug":"keikou-nishimura","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/artist-masters\/keikou-nishimura\/","title":{"rendered":"Keikou Nishimura"},"content":{"rendered":"

Introduction:<\/span><\/h2>\n

Keikou Nishimura is a third generation lacquer artisan who thinks deeply about the sustainability of his craft.<\/span><\/p>\n

As an <\/span>urushi<\/span><\/i> painter, he was worried that the <\/span>kyo-shikki<\/span><\/i> (Kyoto-style lacquerware) woodturners whose work he relied on to be able to continue his own craft would die out as Nishimura Naoki, the last<\/span> kyo-shikki <\/span><\/i>wood turner, refused to take on apprentices. Nishimura Keikou eventually decided to hire two students to learn woodturning from Nishimura Naoki, in order to ensure the survival of the woodturning art. However, because the traditional <\/span>natsume<\/span><\/i> (tea container) that the woodturner apprentices would traditionally make to hone their skills was no longer as in demand as in years past as the number of tea practitioners also dwindled, Nishimura Keikou decided to join the Asagi-Wan project, an effort to revitalize <\/span>kyo-shikki<\/span><\/i> woodturning by attempting to come up with an <\/span>kyo-shikki<\/span><\/i> object that would be useful in everyday life. The project members eventually arrived at the <\/span>Asagi-wan<\/span><\/i> (soup bowl), and asked themselves what \u201cKyoto\u2019s everyday soup bowl\u201d might have looked like. Historical examples had all been lost to the passage of time, so the artists had room for interpretation. The final form they arrived at was turned by Nishimura Naoki out of local <\/span>hinoki<\/span><\/i> wood, and upon seeing it, \u201call the team members immediately understood. THIS was the form of Kyoto\u2019s everyday bowl, reflecting the calm and cultured elegance of the tearoom.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

(Image: Example of Asagi-wan<\/em>‘s final form on the left, and its pre-urushi<\/em> form on the right.)<\/h5>\n

He also established the Tenun (\u5929\u96f2) brand in order to make <\/span>urushi<\/span><\/i> items for the general public, items that would be more common to the lives of general people than the tea items. Much of this lacquerware is designed to go along well with Western-style plates or references Western techniques like Dutch pewter plate making, but maintains its traditional spirit by referencing traditional and antique traditional Japanese designs. This reminded me greatly of Nobunaga Oda\u2019s attitude to implementing Western culture in Japanese society, maintaining a traditional spirit in the face of internationalization. Here too, Nishimura Keikou makes efforts to recruit young artisans to produce these objects and keep the artform alive by maintaining the functionality of <\/span>kyo-shikki<\/span><\/i> objects.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/span>(Image: Examples of objects from the Tenun collection.)<\/h5>\n

“Without knowing, innocent small palms would, I thought, sense the sheen of urushi, the warmth of wood, the fluctuations of nature and the rhythm of the artisans\u2019 motions, all of which mass-produced and synthetic products lack. May such a \u201csense for living,\u201d that holding Asagi-wan could awaken, outlast our time and be transmitted to the future, along with the circle of artisans essential to its survival.”<\/em><\/p>\n

    \n
  • \n
      \n
    • \n
        \n
      • Sachiko Matsuyama<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n

        Beyond his involvement in the Asagi-Wan Project and revitalizing the approximately 9000-year-old art of <\/span>urushi<\/span><\/i> to survive in the modern day, Nishimura Keikou often speaks of his work in <\/span>urushi<\/span><\/i> painting as a sort of communion with nature. He often states that he feels the \u201cpresence of nature\u201d while he works with urushi, and must ask the wood questions about its identity, such as \u201cWhich way do you want to curl?\u201d, and finds that the \u201canswer is never the same.\u201d He also says that <\/span>urushi<\/span><\/i>, which he describes as the \u201cblood of the <\/span>urushi<\/span><\/i> tree\u2026 [trying] to cure its wounds by seeping lacquer, feels \u201cso real and so alive.\u201d As a result, he must pay attention to how it responds to his techniques and the environment around him.<\/span><\/p>\n

        One of the most fascinating things I found about Nishimura Keikou\u2019s attitude to urushi was what he said about how he assesses the quality of a work. He writes that when he appreciates the tea containers of other lacquer workers, he ascertains whether \u201cit has a soul or not.\u201d He says that it is important to judge tea containers based on whether the painter \u201cmade it with his soul or not.\u201d This is still quite mysterious to me. What does it mean for an object to possess the \u201csoul\u201d of its creator\u201d? What does it mean for someone to create a tea container with one\u2019s soul? How can one come to see the \u201csoul\u201d of common, functional, daily-use objects? I would love to be able to ask Nishimura Keikou-sensei<\/em> some of these questions. How does this \u201csoul\u201d found in physical form become a way to share, receive, and circulate <\/span>inochi, <\/span><\/i>this “soul” that appears to connect us all and connect all nature<\/span>? Additionally, is this spirit which resides in the wood something that any person can connect to, or does it take a master and years of practice to begin this kind of communion with nature?<\/span><\/p>\n

        \u201cI can\u2019t stop feeling the presence of nature while I\u2019m working with urushi lacquer. Fine lacquerware cannot be obtained without the blessings of nature. Urushi is a resin; it is the blood of the urushi tree, shed when the bark is cut and the tree tries to cure its wounds by seeping lacquer. It feels so real and so alive. Science tries to explain it this way: urushi hardens at 70% humidity and 77\u00b0F temperature. But there is more to it than that. Same goes for wood. I ask a wooden base, \u2018Which way do you want to curl?\u2019 The answer is never the same.\u201d <\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

          \n
        • \n
            \n
          • \n
              \n
            • Nishimura Keikou<\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n

              I am also curious as to how science and the divinity or “spirit” that resides in the wood of kyo-shikki<\/em> objects coexist. How has modernization impacted Nishimura-sensei<\/em>‘s work, if it has at all? Has his craft been in some ways a resistance against the harms of modernization, such as wasteful consumption?<\/p>\n

              Lastly, the Shinto and Buddhist spiritually seem to pervade the Japanese traditional arts. I see a lot of this spirituality, particularly the Shinto belief that kami<\/em> is in everything, in the way that Nishimura-sensei<\/em> speaks to the “voice” which resides in the wood he paints. I would love the opportunity to ask him if he intentionally practices any form of religion or spiritual exercise in order to develop his art, or perhaps if his art has enabled him to better connect with religion.<\/p>\n

              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<\/p>\n

              Reflection:<\/span><\/h2>\n

              We were graciously allowed to enter Nishimura-sensei<\/em>‘s home and studio, where we received a presentation on urushi<\/em> as well as the chance to look at the production of the wooden bowls that serve as the base for urushi<\/em> lacquer, and the actual application of urushi<\/em>.<\/p>\n

              We started off in Nishimura-sensei<\/em>‘s home, where he gave us a presentation on the history and production of urushi<\/em>. The aspect of urushi<\/em> that stuck out to the greatest number of students seemed to be interdependence of people necessary to produce urushi<\/em>.<\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              (Image: Alana’s chart of interdependence in urushi ecosystem)<\/em><\/h5>\n

              We learned that urushi<\/em> painters require not just the urushi<\/em> sap, but the refiners who purify and color it, the woodturners who produce the wooden base that the lacquer is painted on top of, the Hake<\/em> brush-makers who create the specialized brushes used for the sap, the artisans who produce the crane feathers used to pick dust off the urushi<\/em> surface, the artisans who produce the charcoal used to polish urushi<\/em>, and the maki-e<\/em> painters who adorn the urushi<\/em> product’s surface with ornate designs. And not to forget the ever-present necessity of nature, which gifts the natural materials essential to making urushi<\/em>. The blackness of black urushi<\/em>\u2014shikkoshi\u2014<\/em>is actually produced by a chemical reaction between the urushi<\/em> sap and the iron added to it, rather than a coloring produced through the transfer of pigment, speaking once again to the way that nature has fortified and inspired the art of urushi.<\/p>\n

              We were also taught about the two main risks to urushi<\/em>: the decline of the number of artisans making these traditional crafts, and the number of urushi<\/em> trees. There are perhaps only two shokunin<\/em> (artisans) left in Japan producing the brushes necessary to paint urushi<\/em>. The urushi<\/em> trees themselves are also declining, due to a lack of planting. The vast majority of Japan’s lacquer is produced in China, though there are currently efforts to remediate this by the government. Modernization has very clearly impacted the craft, but there are many people, some of whom we’ve gotten the opportunity to meet on this trip, who have worked incredibly hard to preserve it.<\/p>\n

              On the subject of interdependence, I found the necessary communication between the woodturner and urushi<\/em> maker fascinating. Urushi<\/em> adds thickness to the final product as the sap hardens and forms a coating over the wood, and so without regular communication between the creator of the wood base and the painter, it is impossible to make containers with lids and bases that fit together tightly and properly. We saw one example of a tea container whose fit between the lid and base was so smooth and well-fitted that I could barely see the crack that separated the two pieces.<\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              Nishimura-sensei<\/em> also talked about his artistic philosophy of listening to nature and honoring its direction instead of forcibly imposing human ideals and human presence. He creates his more artistic pieces by bending the wood and solidifying it wherever the wood’s natural bend looks most beautiful. When one looks at his work, I thought one could truly feel a reverence for nature and the dialogue performed between human intervention by the artist and natural movement by the wood and tree sap.<\/p>\n

              \"\u897f\u6751\u572d\u529f\uff5cARTIST\uff5c\u30a4\u30e0\u30e9\u30a2\u30fc\u30c8\u30ae\u30e3\u30e9\u30ea\u30fc(imura<\/p>\n

              (Image: Nishimura-sensei’s personal work)<\/em><\/h5>\n

              <\/p>\n

              (Image: Nishimura-sensei bending the bowl to demonstrate the bend of wood)<\/em><\/h5>\n

              We then moved to his studio, where we were able to observe an apprentice wood-turner work on a tea container. When asked why he entered into this field, he told the group that he began wood-turning because he “liked making containers.” I believe this was quite a contrast to the impression many of us had of craftsmen prior to coming to Japan, where we thought craftsmen all had a profound reason for entering the field. It was new and interesting to hear from this artisan who was simply turning wood because he enjoyed it.<\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              We headed up to Nishimura-sensei<\/em>‘s studio, where Nishimura-sensei<\/em> shared more about his craft. Beyond his original pieces, we learned about the work he performs repairing sets of 400-year-old urushi<\/em> tableware for local temples. This reminded us of the sustainability of urushi<\/em>. Unlike plastic today, which is not biodegradable, urushi<\/em> possesses a longevity but is also biodegradable, as long as it is maintained. Urushi<\/em> can regularly be repaired by the artisan which supports both the tableware and the artisan. Nishimura-sensei<\/em> told us that he works quite diligently to make sure that his own pieces survive another 400 years and continue this tradition. Before the trip, I asked if his craft has in some ways been a resistance against the harms of modernization, such as wasteful consumption, and I see now that it most likely is<\/em> a rejection of those values.<\/p>\n

              We also got the chance to watch an urushi<\/em> painter in action!<\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              <\/p>\n

              We continued to ask Nishimura-sensei<\/em> more about his artistic philosophy, and many of us had interesting thoughts provoked when he said that “to be a shokunin<\/em>, the first step is to eliminate the self, then find oneself. It is in this dichotomy that artistic direction arises for the shokunin.” I thought there was a parallel to the zazen<\/em> meditation we had done yesterday in this process, where one needed to first pay complete attention to the outside world and reduce the self, then shift focus to the inner world, and finally dissolve the boundaries separating the two in bringing one’s inner sensations in harmony with the outside. Nishimura-sensei<\/em> did mention at one point that his work was very much inspired by zen<\/em>, in that he reveres the direction of nature and is often doing repetitive motions that provoke introspection.<\/p>\n

              He told us that he wants to show his “face” in every piece that he creates, and that the reflection of an artist’s “face” in their work was one way he decided if it was good or not. While one’s individual preference for different styles of urushi<\/em> painting ultimately determines the appeal of an urushi<\/em> work, there should be an individual “face” or “spirit” reflected in the work. One example of this given to us by Nishimura-sensei<\/em> were the visible paint strokes on the surface of his urushi<\/em> pieces, because he prefers having these subtle strokes visible, as opposed to the smoothness of mass-produced plastic, which lack any human “face” whatsoever.<\/p>\n

              Before departure, I posed a few questions, and found many of them answered. I think for an object to possess the “soul” of its creator is almost the same thing as it possessing the “face” of the creator, such as the brush marks, qualities, and preferences that distinguish a work as uniquely one artisan’s. While I find I’m no closer to understanding the mystical qualities of this spirit or soul in a way that can easily be described in words, I found that holding the objects often gave me some higher sense that there was<\/em> a kind of spirit imbuing these objects with a sense of humanity, a sense of inochi <\/em>perhaps, because the materials were all natural and because human beings had made the objects rather than machines. While that isn’t quite an empirical answer, it was the closest I got to making sense of this idea of spirit in the material. Touch seemed to play a big role in helping me understand that, perhaps because my eyes did not have enough experience distinguishing between different works and knowing what was “beautiful.” I asked before departure whether it was possible or not for the spirit residing in the wood to be felt by anyone, or if it took a master and years of practice to find this communion with nature. While I think it does<\/em> take a master to find and dialogue with the fullest extent of this spirit, I still thought touch<\/em> could provide really interesting ways for the average person to experience this spirit. There was genuinely something really profound and meaningful that I could physically feel while holding these handmade objects with centuries of history and know-how supporting their beauty and elegance.<\/p>\n

               <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

              Introduction: Keikou Nishimura is a third generation lacquer artisan who thinks deeply about the sustainability of his craft. As an urushi painter, he was worried that the kyo-shikki (Kyoto-style lacquerware) woodturners whose work he relied on to be able to … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2627,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-214","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-artist-masters"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2627"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=214"}],"version-history":[{"count":19,"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":654,"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/214\/revisions\/654"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=214"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=214"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.williams.edu\/23w-japn-025-kyoto\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=214"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}