In Japan, in those days, they had half-hour television programs on the Living National Treasures. There was one program on Ichibei Iwano, a papermaker. It just hit me like lightning that I wanted to write about papermaking. I loved the idea that papermaking was very close to nature. It was physical in the beginning process and very refined at the end of the process. Who helped with your work? I had a friend in Japan, Marty Cooper Guthrie, and she had trained as a photographer and had worked as a student intern with National Geographic. So in our naďveté, we decided we would do a book. Because I have a kind of scholarly mind I did a lot of research. At first the book was going to be very large photographs that Marty would take and I would write the captions. And that was all, but I kind of overdo things sometimes. So my husband David Hughes, who spoke Japanese, helped me do the research. I never learned to speak Japanese that well. David was teaching at a school for young businessmen near the base of Mt. Fuji. We visited tons of papermaking villages including Kurodani, Otake, Imadate. People were astonished and delighted that anyone was interested in papermaking. Almost no one got rich making paper and papermaking towns were dying out. Also, the papermakers could not believe that a woman was writing the book, they thought my husband was writing the book. Who did you study with and why? I was introduced to a papermaker, Mr. Seikichiro Goto–. He was in his early seventies at the time and a wonderful man who spoke no English except for "thank you" and "wonderful." Since this was late October, the papermaking season was just about to begin. Through the translator, I asked if I could follow him around and write about papermaking. He thought for a minute and said, "Okay, come on Monday and we will make paper." I realized that this was more than I was asking for, but replied gratefully, "Yes thank you, I will." It was a little difficult to get to his village as we had no car and lived way out in the country. The journey took an hour and a half just to get to his door. When I arrived that first Monday morning at nine o'clock in my blue jeans and boots, the media was all there. Several newspaper photographers and a TV crew were at his house, because word had gotten out that this young American woman wanted to study this dying craft, papermaking. Tell me about learning how to make paper. Monday through Friday, almost everyday for eight to nine months, I studied papermaking with Mr. Goto–. It was a really, really cold process. We were in an outside building, and many days when I arrived, the papermaking vat was frozen over. Our hands got so cold that about every hour and a half his wife brought out an almost boiling bowl of water for our hands. Mr. Goto–'s daughter, who was about my age, would not make paper because of the cold. She said the cold went right to her heart. Some days I arrived and he told me he had to go out but for me to go ahead and make paper. In the beginning I got stuck pretty fast but as time went on I got better. How did the book get published? As I said before, Marty Cooper Guthrie and I were very naďve about publishing. I wrote a one-page proposal and we took it around to several publishers. The first publisher practically threw us out. The second publisher was Weatherhill and they thought the book was a good idea and wanted a very fancy two-volume set sold in a case. One book was to be paper samples and the second was to be a slim volume about papermaking. They sent the idea to their marketing person and he said it won't sell, don't do it. Lastly we went to Kodansha. We met the American editor, Kim Schueffton, and he was wonderful to us. He said to go for it. The title is Washi: The World of cb sh cb sh Daughter-in-law of National Papermaking Treasure Ichibei Iwano's making paper. Photograph taken while Sukey Hughes was gathering material for her book in Japan. Photo: Marty Cooper Guthrie, 1970. Sukey Hughes, David W. Hughes, and Seikichiro Goto, her papermaking teacher, enjoying a traditional Japanese lunch. Photo: Marty Cooper Guthrie, 1970. summer 2009 - 21 something even more tedious. I loved the results though. I think I take a scholarly approach to everything I do and when I get to a certain level of expertise I am satisfied so I move on to the next thing. Of course in hand papermaking, one can never exhaust it; you can just go deeper and deeper and become more and more refined. In September 2009 at the Robert C. Williams Paper Museum, we will be presenting your photographs from the time you spent with the Japanese papermakers. I also understand that you are going to be the keynote speaker at the Friends of Dard Hunter annual meeting in October 2009. As you gather your photographs and thoughts for these upcoming events, what recollections come to mind and what are your observations about Japanese hand papermaking? The history of washi seems to experience cycles. In the 1970s the younger people were leaving the papermaking villages for work in the cities and the villages almost became ghost towns. At the time I feared that papermaking would die out. Some of the papermakers were even trying to compete with the machine paper market. In the 1980s college students began returning to the papermaking villages to learn how to make paper for their own art and revived the interest in washi. Each cycle of papermaking has a different look and feel. However, the foundation that has been built over the centuries is deep and broad and the techniques used in washi are so good that I cannot imagine it vanishing. I certainly hope not. Japanese Paper because it was going to be part of a series on the world of Japanese crafts. What have you done with papermaking and washi since the book? I have taught hundreds of papermaking workshops and in each I tried to stress the importance of learning how to make beautiful pure white sheets. Americans are addicted to junking their paper up with stuff before they really learn how to make it. My weekend workshops were marathons. I taught privately, through University of California extension programs— Santa Barbara, San Francisco, San Diego—and at my own home studio in Santa Barbara and later in Santa Fe. I took the students all the way from cleaning the bark, cooking with ash, hand beating, to finally making sheets. In every workshop I exhausted myself and my students. When the students came into the workshop many of them had plans on what they would do with their paper, but once they had their beautiful small pure white sheets, the paper was too precious to use. So it was a very satisfying experience. Out of my workshop came some innovations. One student was a cook and suggested using okra for the mucilage and it worked beautifully. Also we began using pellon fabric over rougher screens. I formed a company called Cloud Works, and packaged small single sheets of washi for sale, which was then a new idea. What other types of art do you do? I paint in oil, particularly figurative work and portraits, also collages, mostly using handmade papers, assemblage, and printmaking. At one point I owned a Vandercook press and did letterpress printing, which is a beautiful companion work to papermaking but talk about tedious work! Later I painted Russian icons in egg tempera, and was surprised that I found something even more tedious. I loved the results though. Ithink I take a scholarly approach to everything I do and when I get to a certainlevel of expertise I am satisfied so I move on to the next thing. Of course inhand papermaking, one can never exhaust it; you can just go deeper and deeperand become more and more refined. In September 2009 at the Robert C. WilliamsPaper Museum, we will be presenting your photographs from the time you spentwith the Japanese papermakers. I also understand that you are going to be thekeynote speaker at the Friends of Dard Hunter annual meeting in October 2009.As you gather your photographs and thoughts for these upcoming events, whatrecollections come to mind and what are your observations about Japanese handpapermaking? The history of washi seems to experience cycles. In the 1970s theyounger people were leaving the papermaking villages for work in the cities andthe villages almost became ghost towns. At the time I feared that papermakingwould die out. Some of the papermakers were even trying to compete with themachine paper market. In the 1980s college students began returning to the papermakingvillages to learn how to make paper for their own art and revived the interestin washi. Each cycle of papermaking has a different look and feel. However, thefoundation that has been built over the centuries is deep and broad and thetechniques used in washi are so good that I cannot imagine it vanishing. Icertainly hope not.
Sukey Hughes testing daphne pulp next to her Japanesebeater. Photo: Larry Beckner, 1990. All photos courtesy of the Robert C.Williams Paper Museum, Sukey Hughes Collection, Atlanta, Georgia.
Daughter-in-law of National Papermaking Treasure IchibeiIwano making paper. Photograph taken while Sukey Hughes was gathering materialfor her book in Japan. Photo: Marty Cooper Guthrie, 1970. Sukey Hughes, DavidW. Hughes, and Seikichiro Goto- , her papermaking teacher, enjoying atraditional Japanese lunch. Photo: Marty Cooper Guthrie, 1970.
Sukey Hughes making washi from daphne pulp using a sugeta.Photo: Larry Beckner, 1990.
