Shop PortfoliosVolunteers

Breadfruit Paper: Explorations with a Caribbean Bast Fiber

Summer 2022
Summer 2022
:
Volume
37
, Number
1
Article starts on page
40
.

My childhood home in Jamaica had a breadfruit tree in one corner of the yard. Its trunk was not as wide as the mango tree on the northern side of the house but it was definitely the tallest tree we had. For most of my childhood, our breadfruit tree was the tallest thing I could fathom. I always admired the tree but I never wanted to get too close to it. It was in the corner of the yard. And being in the corner, with a lot of leaf litter underneath, meant that there would be insects and worms and lizards.

Purchase Issue

Other Articles in this Issue

My childhood home in Jamaica had a breadfruit tree in one corner of the yard. Its trunk was not as wide as the mango tree on the northern side of the house but it was definitely the tallest tree we had. For most of my childhood, our breadfruit tree was the tallest thing I could fathom. I always admired the tree but I never wanted to get too close to it. It was in the corner of the yard. And being in the corner, with a lot of leaf litter underneath, meant that there would be insects and worms and lizards.

I knew that the breadfruit tree was one of the strongest trees around. Hurricane after hurricane, the tree still stood tall. I knew that breadfruit was good for food. The smell of someone roasting or frying it on the stove meant that breakfast was almost ready. I knew that breadfruit had big beautiful leaves that could cover my small face. I did not take breadfruit for granted but I thought I knew all there was to know about the tree. I knew all that everyone around me knew about the tree.

I did not know breadfruit could make paper. This I learned in one of my first classes at the University of Iowa Center for the Book (UICB). I was in a class with Timothy Barrett where the goal was to learn about Asian and Islamic papermaking techniques. We started the class watching a documentary on tapa cloth made in some islands in the Pacific Ocean. I still have my notes from that day in late August, “Breadfruit trees can make tapa cloth???”. (I very rarely emote like that in my notebooks.) In that moment, I saw the arc of my entire papermaking career—one based primarily in the Caribbean. I look back at that moment and shake my head and smile proudly at the same time. It is typical of me to weave elaborate plans for my future in one brief moment but if I set my mind to do something, I usually find a way to do it.

Breadfruit (Artocarpus altilis) is a plant in the mulberry family, Moraceae. Kozo (Broussentia papyrifera), a common plant used for papermaking, is also in the mulberry family. Like kozo, gampi, and mitsumata, the white inner bark of the breadfruit tree is the part used for papermaking. A classmate from Hawaii had some breadfruit fiber and she ended up making breadfruit paper for her final project. Her paper inspired me to formulate plans for my own research, which I conducted as my Hand Papermaking Black Writers Fellowship project.

To collect the breadfruit fiber, I travelled back home to Jamaica in January 2021. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic, Jamaica had an application process for entry, which required a negative COVID test, and strict quarantine measures that limited how much I was able to get around. I ended up coordinating with family friends who live in Trelawny, a parish on the northwest side of the island, to harvest a supply of breadfruit branches. There were about twenty to thirty branches, less than 5 centimeters in diameter and roughly a meter in length. I wanted to steam them to soften the bark before stripping, but the branches were too large to fit in any pots. Then I realized that Jamaica is hot and humid and the ambient temperature (even in January) would be warm enough to keep them moist, so I placed the branches in a sink outside and filled it up about two thirds of the way with water. After two days of soaking, I began the bark-stripping process.

My mother helped me process the fiber. This was extremely experimental and I had to continually remind myself that breadfruit is not kozo. We started by separating the bark from the woody core. Initially we tried to cut a neat line down the stalk and peel it apart, similar to the way I had learned for kozo. That worked for some stalks but not all. I think it had to do with the size or age of the branches. I wanted the bark to come off as one unbroken piece but we ended up peeling the bark off in multiple strips. We also realized that we did not have to keep the branches soaked for so long. Some of them started to rot. We had success removing bark from branches that we left out on the grass, even up to a week after we collected the branches.

The next step was scraping the inner bark from the outer bark. Again, I had to remember that breadfruit is not kozo. I wanted the inner bark to come off in a neat long strip but it ended up coming off in thinner tendrils. After scraping, we left the bark to dry. I had around 250 grams of dried bark and packed it in my suitcase to take back to Iowa City.

At the papermaking studio of the University of Iowa Center for the Book (UICB) I soaked the breadfruit fiber overnight, rinsed it, then cooked it in a 40% soda-ash solution. Tim Barrett recommended a 33% solution (100 grams for 300 grams of dry fiber) but I forgot to decrease the amount of soda ash in my calculations. I then hand beat the fiber for approximately forty-five minutes.

My plan was to use nagashizuki sheetforming since breadfruit is similar to paper mulberry. First I practiced with kozo, gampi, and mitsumata fiber so that I would have a frame of reference when I used the breadfruit. With the help of Nicholas Cladis at the UICB’s papermaking studio, I started pulling sheets using the nagashizuki method. It was more difficult than we expected and the fiber kept building up at the far edge of the su (bamboo screen). Nick suggested that I put more ice packs in the vat because the warm water was weakening the strength of the formation aid. When he said that, I realized that this was another case of me treating breadfruit like kozo. One of my goals was to see if breadfruit fiber could be used to make paper in Jamaica. On a tropical island, it is unrealistic to expect cold-temperature conditions conducive to traditional nagashizuki papermaking. We decided to switch to a European mould and deckle and I double dipped to ensure the sheet’s integrity. The sheetforming process went smoothly and I made all my paper in one session. I pressed my post in a hydraulic press and dried the sheets in a stack dryer. The 250 grams of fiber yielded 30 sheets of 8½ x 11-inch textweight paper.

I am happy with the experience. Happy that I have paper from breadfruit but more than that, happy that I learned a lot about adjusting my expectations and allowing the material to guide me.

A common thread throughout this research was the constant reminder that breadfruit and kozo are two different plants. My point of reference was kozo and I would get frustrated when the breadfruit would not behave like kozo. I had to stop and tell myself that the point of this research was to make mistakes and learn from them. Just like I thought I knew all there was to know about breadfruit before coming to the UICB, I thought I knew exactly how to turn the fiber into paper. I have learned enough to understand that there is more I can learn about this process—future research would involve using thinner branches, stripping the bark from the stalk immediately after cutting it, adjusting the amount of soda ash, and considering putting the fiber in a beater. However, I am satisfied with my initial exploration into making paper from breadfruit. I am excited that I can share this with other Jamaicans and people from the Caribbean and hope that this can lead to more interest in the exploration of papermaking in the region.