 “The people of Kyoto live in a 'jail of beauty’"„
so wrote Ernest Francisco Fenollosa, Harvard graduate who arrived
in Japan in 1878. The philosopher, later gaining a lectureship
at Tokyo University, became one of the first international spokesmen
for traditional Japanese art. At the time, Japan’s indigenous art
faced gradual decay, having been pushed aside and forgotten by
wholesale modernization and a rejection and shunning of all things
old, particularly Buddhist. In his lifework of explaining the significance
of Japanese aesthetics to the wider world, the city of Kyoto played
a key role.
By deconstructing the many manifestations of beauty
he discovered in Kyoto, Fenollosa sought to understand the essence
of this island nation in the Orient called Japan. His interests
were not merely limited to temples and shrines, paintings, antiquities,
and art objects hidden away in the mansions of the aristocracy.
Rather, Fenollosa immersed himself in the daily lives of the Kyoto
people. And what he discovered in the every-day objects of commoners
was astounding beauty.
To him, the ornamental elements of these crafts had
achieved a level of unique artistry not found elsewhere. Moreover,
this artistry had achieved functionality because of the minimalism
of the environment in which it arose. Its functionality in turn
acquired ornamental beauty as a result of the highly sophisticated
craftsmanship employed in its creation.
All of this had been achieved, Fenollosa marveled,
by nameless craftsman down the centuries.
Craftsmanship: the fusion of function, ornament,
and art only hand-wrought objects can achieve.
At first, it seemed to the American philosopher that
the Japanese appeared to live their lives in a dark, threadbare,
and inconvenient prison. But coming to Kyoto, he realized how generously
their prisons had been ornamented by craftsmanship, how magnificently
rich this “jail of beauty” in fact was.
After the war, the Japanese learned concepts of “disposable”,
“mechanization”, and “mass production” from
America. Placing faith in these modern processes as if they were
gods, the Japanese have acquired their own bright, rich, and free
world. Or perhaps they merely think they have acquired such a world.
The people of Kyoto may celebrate the advent of such a world -
telling themselves:
“Lucky me!” But only to a degree. In reality they continue
to chain themselves, voluntarily, to the shackles of the “jail
of beauty”.
 “Disposbales” may be shiny and new, but can one expect
genuine ornamental beauty from such items? Luxury items made of
“mechanization”, however expensive, can never contain true artistry.
The freedom to “mass produce” can only be ad hoc, far from the
precise functionality of tailored crafts.
If these things be true, what reason is there to
leave this “jail of beauty”?
The people of Kyoto have long placed more value in
the joy of using spiritually than the ecstasy of consuming physically.
Fenollosa died in 1908 during his visit to London. Hundred years
hence, we are proud to be able to re-introduce to the world the
pith and marrow of Kyoto, the very charm which drew this philosopher
to the “jail of beauty”.
So it brings us the greatest pleasure to be able
to present, not the ruins of a long-dead Japanism, but the living
beauty of now, created in the hands of the Kyoto craftsmen of today.
Karacho + Ichizawa Shinzaburo
Hanpu
We would like to make special mention of two “craftsmen”
working in karakami paper and canvas bags. The two crafts are in
no way related, but both share common features: the longer one
uses the items, the more warmth and attachment they bring; both
are the products of extremely sophisticated, original, and delicate
craftsmanship; finally, both traditions are steeped in the aesthetics
of this city and could only have arisen in Kyoto.
 The
exquisite karakami paper of “Karacho”, illuminated by
Japanese candles and natural light to draw out their sumptuous colors,
provides the element of this exhibition. In this uniquely orchestrated
space, an assortment of Ichizawa Shinzaburo Hanpu’s works,
from heavy duty bags to pochettes will be on display . Other supporting
companies will also be presenting their works, offering a multilayered
experience to the visitor.
The people of Kyoto do not simply throw out a plate
which cracks. With lacquer and gold dust, they meld together fragments
to recreate an equally beautiful plate as before. There is charm
in the old. “Karacho” karakami paper, bleached by sun
and warped by heat and moisture, gradually acquire calming colours
and texture, even stains, over time. That is also their precise
charm. The Japanese call this “putting on jidai” -
jidai loosely should be understood as a term encompassing era and
history.
“Ichizawa Shinzaburo Hanpu” bags are not
merely sturdy and long-lasting. Its distilled designs are said to
have influenced numerous eminent fashion houses including Louis
Vuitton. After two, three decades, a Hanpu bag which has “put
on much jidai” becomes an irreplaceable and cherished item.
Nor can one forget the almost perfect repair services offered by
the bag-maker at only actual cost.
We hope that visitors can sense the artistry of the
universe of “Karacho” derived from skilled craftsmanship.
From the bags of “Ichizawa Shinzaburo Hanpu”, we hope
visitors can be exposed to the marvelous functionality of such craftsmanship.
The collaboration of both traditions in this exhibit should demonstrate
ornamental beauty made possible only in such handiwork; these are
the potentials of craftsmanship in Kyoto - “city that lives
in the now”.
 Exhibition
details
Time: 2007 November 6th (Tuesday) - November 10th (Saturday)
Time:
November 6th (Tue) 18：30 by invitation only
November 7th (Wed) 10:00-16:00
November 8th (Thurs) 10:00-16:00
November 9th (Fri) 10:00-20:00
November 10th (Sat) 10:00-13:00
Place: Gallery Forty-Seven, 47 Great Russell Street,
London WC1B 3PB
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