Asao has since emerged as a leading authority on Japanese papermaking techniques and historical papermaking processes, a publisher of over thirty miniature books on papermaking, and a leader of papermaking tours and conferences. His English has greatly improved, yet he has maintained the eccentric style and manner of doing things, which at first seemed due to his Japanese culture but now are apparent as an important individual personality trait. He purposefully pays attention to detail and makes a point of not becoming part of the mainstream. Asao grew up in Tokyo, where his father owns a bookstore. After his graduation from Tokyo Technical College in 1971, where he majored in water analysis, he travelled extensively in Japan, observing traditional papermaking and natural dyeing. During this time that he met Timothy Barrett, then a Fulbright Scholar studying papermaking in Japan. It was Tim who introduced Asao to the Twinrocker studio in Indiana, whose proprietors, Howard and Catherine Clark, in turn, had brought him along to the conference in Appleton. While most of his fellow young university graduates were pursuing high tech jobs in Tokyo, Asao, living with his parents in their comfortable Tokyo house, commuted to the countryside to study indigo dyeing. At that time he began writing in both English and Japanese about papermaking processes, making his own small paper, setting the text in 6-point type, and printing these books on a tiny platen press. He bound them in the Japanese tradition, and called himself Bunseido Press. Discovering that there was an active collector's market for miniature books of a particular size, he pared down his books to the accepted 2 in. x 3 in., and began marketing them in series. His sets are now in the collections at Harvard University, Yale University, and the Royal Library at The Hague, Holland, among other prestigious institutions. Asao also continued travelling in the mid and late seventies. He returned to the U.S., where he began teaching workshops on Japanese papermaking. He also went to Mexico, South Korea, Western Europe, and then England to attend the meeting of the International Paper Historians (IPH). When a traditional farmhouse in the countryside became available, Asao rented it and founded the Cannabis Press, also known as CP. 'Asa' in Japanese means 'hemp' (Cannabis Sativa L.), hence the appropriateness of Asao giving his studio and press this name. It became, over the years, a center for eastern and western papermakers and artists interested in Japan, and a place to visit and work in. This house was in the traditional Japanese country style: tatami mats, shoji screens of handmade paper, a bathing cauldron in the kitchen, and no heat or hot water. Despite this simplicity, it was full of high tech camera and video equipment. Asao created a miniature set-up with printing, papermaking, fiber cooking, and natural dyeing areas. The unassuming farmers of tiny Fukuhara village soon became accustomed to the sight of a westerner trudging from the train station through rice fields and bamboo groves, hunting for the thatched roof of CP. In 1981, I participated in Asao's first Washi Tour. He rented a mini-bus and for two weeks six of us, along with Asao's movie equipment, travelled throughout the entire country and visited twelve papermakers, each of whom demonstrated his own distinctive technique. None of the papermakers spoke English so, in his own cryptic style, Asao translated the many questions we had. Asao's short explanations of processes forced us to really observe what was going on for we were without a translator giving a step by step explanation of the process. At times it was frustrating, as when one of the Japanese papermakers spent five minutes explaining how he cooks mitsumata fiber and Asao shortened the translation to a single sentence. But we learned the Asian custom of patience, and besides, if we had a lot of technical questions, there was a good chance Asao had produced a miniature book on the topic. In 1987, which marked CP's 10th anniversary, Asao hosted a mini-conference during which thirty people stayed at his farmhouse or with neighboring friends. He arranged for the nearest rent-a-futon shop to provide bedding for all. Nine of us then embarked on Washi Tour 9, continuing at the same hectic pace Asao had set six years previously. Driving for eight hours from the town of Niigata in Northern Japan, known for snow-bleached kozo paper and the best sake, we raced to Imadate, a major papermaking center, and then on towards the Sea of Japan, making a quick stop at the spectacular Tottori sand dunes. All of Asao's books include precise descriptions of processes, often with detailed line drawings of molds (including measurements) and of papermaking scenes, and there is often a set of paper samples at the end. In addition to the consistent way in which he presents important technical and historical information, much of the continued success of these miniature books lies in Asao's anecdotal manner of writing. In Amate (Bunseido Press, Tokyo, 1978), Asao writes of his trip to San Pablito, Mexico to observe the process of making bark fiber: "The Otomi Indians usually walk it in one hour and a half. But it took two hours for us to get half way... At last we reached the place where we could hear the sound of pounding amate, ton ton ton... It sounded very beautiful, a symphony of papermaking." An exquisite Japanese postage stamp in the corner of a handmade paper envelope is reason enough to treasure Asao's innumerable letters. Always writing on unusual paper, Asao methodically and enthusiastically describes his current and future projects, ending with a comment about the weather: "Rainy season started yesterday. Frog is singing in Japanese, kero kero, and it is peaceful and relaxed here."(6/10/87) Not only do I have an accuruate record of the improvement in Asao's English prose, I can also trace his technological advancements, from his handwritten scrawls of the late seventies, to his typewritten notes of the early eighties, and now his computer generated letters, always printed on washi. "No way to escape from it, computer age."(3/7/88) "I don't hate computer, this is working fine...So far I am enjoying the computer life."(11/6/88) The replies to his letter writing habit are equally impressive. It is not uncommon for him to receive ten letters in one day, each from a different country. Asao's letter writing ability has helped arouse interest in the various conferences he has co-organized, in particular the most recent international conference in Ibaraki, Japan, which attracted sixty people from seventeen countries in August, 1989. It was an outstanding event. The first day featured five types of papermaking--European, Nepalese, Bhutanese, Korean and Japanes, each demonstrated by a native papermaker using the distinctive molds of his country. On the second day, the entire process of making kyosei-shi was shown, enabling participants to see how the strong, crumpled paper, waterproofed with konnyaku paste, is produced. Other days were spent making shifu (paper thread), dyeing the shifu with native Japanese plants and shellfish and using it, and attending lectures on historical papermaking and fibers. The final event was an exuberant kami party, with an abundance of Japanese food, drink, music, and dancing, climaxed by a giant bonfire. Another facet of Asao's personality is that of artist, curator and promoter of artistic events. In 1987 he finished a project he had been planning for years. His creation, A Paper Thatched House (APTH) consisted of 4,500 small sheets of washi that he made himself and brushed onto all the walls and ceilings of his farmhouse, completely covering them. Even the bathroom was decked in washi. His documentation of this project on videotape is reminiscent of some of the movies Andy Warhol produced--a lengthy, real-time, amateur film of a not particularly exciting process, nevertheless entertaining for the sheer fact that it is plotless. When the paper finally fell off the house, after a few weeks, Asao neatly stacked it in piles and began to collaborate with other artists, using it to produce small book editions. Asao has also curated a number of mini-exhibitions of paper art, using work no larger than twelve inches square, always combining the show with the publication of a miniature book containing the artists' statements and signatures. Over the years Asao Shimura has made increasingly more signifcant contributions to the paper world. His recent decision to move to the Philippines this winter, to begin what he describes as a "regular" job at the Duntog Paper Mill, marks a dramatic change in his life. Despite the importance of the work Asao has been doing in Japan, his financial rewards were frequently slim. At one point he wrote, "This year turns out the year of sardine, instead of real tiger. It's a sort of panic financially, but otherwise I'm fine and busy."(10/3/86) I eagerly await his letters describing the beginnings of his new career.
