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Somos nosotros en el papel: The Interconnected Botanical and Cultural Diversity of Papermaking Traditions

Winter 2024
Winter 2024
:
Volume
39
, Number
2
Article starts on page
23
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Over the past six years, I have traveled to many countries, including Nepal, Vietnam, Jamaica, and Mexico, to study fiber arts through the lens of ethnobotany. One of my most memorable field trips, from the summer of 2022, started in Mexico City to meet my friend and colleague Cekouat Elim León Peralta, a fellow botanist and origamist based at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, to conduct ethnographic research on Mexican papermaking. From the capital, we traveled to nearby San Pablito to interview and workshop with amateros—artisans who make amate (Indigenous Mexican bark paper)—in their studios. From there we journeyed to Oaxaca in southern Mexico to meet Alberto Valenzuela and Luis Torres, both experienced contemporary papermakers in San Agustín Etla.1 In both towns, the handmade papers showcase distinctive textures and tones, each imbued with unique signatures derived directly from the diverse plant fibers used in their production.

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Over the past six years, I have traveled to many countries, including Nepal, Vietnam, Jamaica, and Mexico, to study fiber arts through the lens of ethnobotany. One of my most memorable field trips, from the summer of 2022, started in Mexico City to meet my friend and colleague Cekouat Elim León Peralta, a fellow botanist and origamist based at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, to conduct ethnographic research on Mexican papermaking. From the capital, we traveled to nearby San Pablito to interview and workshop with amateros—artisans who make amate (Indigenous Mexican bark paper)—in their studios. From there we journeyed to Oaxaca in southern Mexico to meet Alberto Valenzuela and Luis Torres, both experienced contemporary papermakers in San Agustín Etla.1 In both towns, the handmade papers showcase distinctive textures and tones, each imbued with unique signatures derived directly from the diverse plant fibers used in their production. What struck me most wa show the botanical diversity of these papers—spanning hues from ivory to cocoa brown—viscerally reflect the ethnic diversity of Mexico.

Later, after returning to the United States, Cekouat messaged me on WhatsApp: Alberto had shared the same sentiment of linking botanical and cultural diversity through paper, remarking, “Somos nosotros en el papel,” loosely translated, “It is ourselves in paper.”

Ethnobotany, an interdisciplinary field which bridges science (botany, anthropology) and the humanities (art, religion), provides a multifaceted framework for identifying key questions and patterns in plant–people relationships, including papermaking and paper arts. In this article, I break down ethnobotany as a discipline into three complementary professions in biology, and style them as questions each might ask in the field of papermaking. By decomposing and then reintegrating these professional perspectives within the field of ethnobotany, we may be better inspired and prepared to preserve the plants, people, and papers involved in hand-papermaking traditions around the world.

The naturalist asks: How many plants are used in hand-paper-making traditions? The great legacy of naturalist Carl Linnaeus (1707–1778) was his ambitious endeavor to catalog brief descriptions of all the organisms of the Earth. His catalog, Systema Naturae (1735–1793), eventually amassed some ten thousand species. Today, 1.2 million species have been described, of which 374,000 are plants.2 This prompted me—as both botanist and papermaker—to ask by analogy: where is the catalog of hand-papermaking plants, and how are hand-papermaking plants chosen?

Since all plants and paper are mostly cellulose, we might predict that just about any plant could be rendered into paper. Although proofs-of-concept suggest that this is probably technically true,3 it is not done in general practice. Most papermakers, including myself, use abaca, kozo, hemp, flax/linen, or cotton as their artistic bread-and-butter. This suggests that a suite of conditions strongly limit the practical use of most plant fibers for routine hand papermaking. Based on observations of the natural history of these so-called “paper plants,” these conditions include:

1. Suitable Physiology and Chemistry: Fibers that are longer and lower in lignin generally yield stronger papers than fibers that are shorter and comparatively lignin-rich.

2. Rapid Growth: These come in two types—cultivated annuals (flax, hemp) or woody perennials that vigorously resprout following harvest from stumps or root suckers, such as dó (Rhamnoneuron balansae).

3. Accessibility: Few hand-papermaking fibers are commercially available; most are cultivated. Some fibers are only available regionally or locally due to specific habitat requirements, such as rechakpa (Stellera chamaejasme) in Tibet.4 Other fibers may yield excellent paper, but are too rare for routine use, such as Mexican leatherwood (Dirca mexicana).5

4. Toxicity: Poisonous plants can yield poisonous papers, which tend to weather biotic degradation better. The classic example is gampi (Wikstroemia sikokiana), which lasts hundreds of years in part because insects will not eat it.6

Through my fieldwork and a review of literature, I identified seventy-six plant species claimed to be used in hand-papermaking traditions around the world; of these, only fifty could be independently verified through pictorial evidence or quantitative fiber comparisons in paper artifacts. This tally is certainly an underestimate due to the perishability of paper, the precipitous decline in the practice of papermaking traditions, and the difficulty ini dentifying certain papermaking plants to the species level (such as bamboos).

Since many moulds, deckles, beating mallets, formation aids, and dyes have a botanical origin, I also encourage papermakers to be attentive to the broader roles of plants beyond paper fibers. This is important because deliberateness and selectivity influence performance: few woods resist warping after years of use in the vat, and not all plants can yield mucilage or lightfast dyes. Unfortunately, the cataloging of plants accessory to traditional papermaking is patchy. In Japan and elsewhere, the extraction of neri formation aid from the roots of tororo-aoi (Abelmoschus manihot) is globally known and practiced, but the use of chiple (Saurauianapaulensis) bark for formation aid is unknown outside of Nepal. In Vietnam, a whole host of different plants are used for formation aid, including vines (Actinidia sp.7 and Byttneria aspera) and trees (Litsea sp. and Actinodaphne pilosa).8 This degree of botan-cal scrutiny is especially critical for bamboos, which are highly diverse (more than 1,000 species) but frequently and misleadingly are treated in papermaking literature as a monolith. Conversations I had with hand papermakers in Vietnam revealed that the bamboos used to make papermaking screens are not the same species pulped to make paper!

Overall, I tallied thirteen plant species used by tradition to make formation aid, twelve for fiber-beating mallets, eight for papermaking frames, and five for papermaking screens—again, all underestimates. Improved documentation, especially via vouchering of plant specimens for herbaria, can help fiber artists make better informed and more deliberate choices regarding which plants to use for specific papermaking outcomes.

The ecologist asks: How are papermaking networks connected? Like the ecosphere itself, artists operate in dynamic symbiosis, relying on interdependent relationships that evolve over time. Connectivity ensures functionality: conservators need tengucho for book repairs, tengucho makers need high-quality kozo fiber, and kozo bushes need growers for tending. Long ago, numerous farmers, weavers, rag collectors, papermakers, scribes, and printers were mutually connected to one another, and the retirement of any one papermaker did not threaten the continued transformation of plant tissues into books, paintings, and manuscripts.

But now, with the world overwhelmingly using mass-produced, machine-made wood-pulp papers, bespoke paper economies are extremely fragile, leaving experienced artisans struggling to pay bills and train young apprentices. This is the state of hand papermaking in Vietnam today, a plight I witnessed through fieldwork in 2019 and 2022 in the region.

In Dương Ổ, a craft village in Vietnam now absorbed by the nearby Hanoi metropolitan area, artisan paper has been made from the bark fibers of the dó (Rhamnoneuron balansae) tree since at least 1435.9 However, due to the introduction of more scalable and more profitable wood-pulping machinery forty years ago, the number of hand papermakers in the village dropped precipitously from five thousand in 1980 to just fifteen by 2019. This collapse rippled through Vietnam’s papermaking network: while up to 120 tons of dó bark—peeled from some 920,000 trees—were harvested annually per province in 1900, by 2019, this supply had dwindled to just 3 tons sourced from a single province. As bark harvesting declined, so did the dó tree: recent herbarium collections indicate that the species is “not common” today.10 With traditional uses such as royal edicts and gunpowder packaging now extinct due to government policy, the few current niche uses of dó paper—like for woodblock printing to make Ðông Hồ “paintings”—are at grave risk of extinction. Cataloging the plants and people involved in making and using paper is not enough; understanding their connectedness is crucial to ensure the long-term survival and function of this—and any—ecosystem.

The conservationist asks: How do we help hand papermaking adapt tochange? In applied ecology, various subdisciplines aim to help ecosystems and their interacting species thrive despite threats and changes overtime. This can happen at different scales, from regional to global levels. Since people are a part of ecosystems, tools and concepts from ecological conservation can help threatened ethnobotanical systems like hand-papermaking traditions.

Reviving what’s extinct. Without cloning, this is biologically a fantasy. But extinction in the humanities is different. Traditions like hand papermaking, for example, go extinct in stages: first, with cessation of practice; second, with death of practitioners; and third, with loss of documentation. The incomplete extinction of traditions allows for their potential revival; a good example is the tradition of making kapa (barkcloth) in Hawai’i. Active practice of kapa-making stopped in the early twentieth century, followed by the deaths of the artisans soon after. It was revived in the 1970s thanks to the survival of three things: kapa artifacts among families and at the Bishop Museum in Honolulu;11 abundant populations of suitable plants (mostly paper mulberry, Broussonetia papyrifera); and detailed documentation of the manufacturing process by both Hawai’ian and white-settler ethnographers.12

Reinforcing what’s at risk. In ecological conservation, vulnerable populations can be reinforced against threats via two principal ways: in situ and ex situ. In situ conservation involves protection of a threatened entity where it exists; ex situ conservation involves protecting a threatened entity by moving some portion of it to a safer location. In hand papermaking, in situ conservation has chiefly proceeded through legislation and regulation; these include the UNESCO recognition of Chinese xuan paper and Japanese washi as Intangible Cultural Heritages,13 the Japanese government’s designation of highly skilled papermakers as Living National Treasures,14 the Nepalese government’s regulation of local hand-papermaking industries,15 and the creation and maintenance of papermakers’ guilds.16 Even individuals can be effective in situ conservationists: in Vietnam, bark harvester Triệu Phúc Thìn maintains records of dó seeds to ensure a sustainable fiber harvest. To complement, ex situ conservation of papermaking traditions has been effective through the collection of papers and fibers from around the world, now stored and preserved in libraries and ethnobotany collections.17 Continued equitable research on papermaking traditions is essential, and increased economic support from governments, NGOs, and individuals is imperative to help hand papermakers sustain their livelihoods.

Creating new applications. Populations, whether composed of species or papermakers, respond to new conditions over time through adaptation. In San Pablito, Mexico, artisans have responded to raw material shortages by incorporating novel fibers, even non-woody plants like tule (Typha domingensis),18 in amate production. And papers with ancient histories are now finding new uses. For example, origami, a folk craft long practiced in Japan from washi, is now practiced around the world, and co-temporary origamists fold papers with no prior connection to origami, including Nepalese lokta and Vietnamese dó. Handmade papers are also being used in new ways for block printing, letterpress, and bookbinding. Such adaptation by co-optation help spapermakers to continue their livelihoods, traditions to evolve, and artisanal economies to become more resilient.

One thing I did not anticipate in researching handmade paper from the perspectives of biologists is its holistic, chronological continuity: the naturalist tells a history, by documenting what plants and people involved in papermaking; the ecologist draws our attention to the current connections through paper; and the conservationist challenges us to invent and apply strategies to help hand-papermaking networks adapt and thrive into the future. While I acknowledge that this framework mostly covers my reflections from the scientific side, an essay on my experiences as a fiber artist will have to be a meditation for another time. But, like coins, they’re really just two sides of the same paper.

Author’s Acknowledgements: These reflections would not be possible without the time, participation, encouragement, and mentorship generously offered by many people. First, I wish to thank Ashish Tamang and Bikram Jnawali (Nepal), Trần Hồng Nhung (Vietnam), Keron Campbell (Jamaica), and Cekouat León (Mexico), who were all instrumental in collecting data, conducting interviews, and completing fieldwork. Back home in the USA, I also thank Dr. Robbie Hart, Aurora Prehn, and Carolina Romero (all Missouri Botanical Garden) for their advice, attention, and enthusiasm towards conserving paper artifacts and associated metadata in the William L. Brown Center Biocultural Collection and Tropicos Database, respectively. Finally, many thanks to Tamara Valdez and the rest of the Hand Papermaking staff for their time and diligent edits in proofing and publishing this article.

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notes

  1. See Pamela Scheinman, “Taller Arte Papel Oaxaca,” Hand Papermaking 17, no. 1 (Summer 2002): 6–9; and Alberto Valenzuela and Luis Torres Pedro, “Paper Sample: Maguey/Cotton,” Hand Papermaking 37, no. 1 (Summer 2022): 38.
  2. Maarten J. M. Christenhusz & James W. Byng, “The number of known plant species in the world and its annual increase,” Phytotaxa 261, no. 3 (2016): 201–217.
  3. Peter Thomas & Donna Thomas. Paper from Plants (Santa Cruz: Peter & Donna Thomas, 2002).
  4. Agnieszka Helman-Ważny, “Overview of Tibetan Paper and Papermaking: History, Raw Materials, Techniques and Fibre Analysis.” In Tibetan Manuscript and Xylograph Traditions: The Written Word and Its Media within the Tibetan Culture Sphere (Hamburg, Germany: Department of Indian and Tibetan Studies, Universität Hamburg, 2016).
  5. Zachary Hudson, Andrew Zandt, April Katz, & William Graves, “From Dircato design: printmaking with leatherwood (Dirca mexicana) bark paper,” Journal of Visual Art Practice 21, no. 1 (2022): 1–24.
  6. Timothy Barrett, Japanese Papermaking: Traditions, Tools, and Techniques (Trumble, CT: Weatherhill, 1983).
  7. Veronica Yang Phạm, “Moments of Chây: Ecological Knowledge of Traditional Papermaking in Viêt Nam,” Hand Papermaking 38, no. 2 (Winter 2023): 20–23.
  8. See Claude Laroque, “Tonkin’s giấy dó and its Chinese roots,” Z Badań Nad Książką i Księgozbiorami Historycznymi 14, no. 3 (2020): 451–487.
  9. Sylvie Fanchette & Nicholas Stedman, Discovering Craft Villages in Vietnam: Ten Itineraries Around Ha Noi (Hanoi, Vietnam: Institut de recherche pourle developpement, 2009). https://doi.org/10.4000/books.irdeditions.26049.
  10. Leonid Averyanov, Nguyễn Tiến Hiệp, & Phan Kế Lộc, Rhamnoneuronbalansae (St. Louis, MO: Missouri Botanical Garden Herbarium, 2001). https://www.gbif.org/tools/zoom/simple.html?src=//api.gbif.org/v1/image/cache/occurrence/1258988966/media/54ee518979186c04e14b034ade0389af
  11. Benton W. Pang, “Identification of Plant Fibers in Hawaiian Kapa: From Ethnology to Botany” (master’s thesis, University of Hawai’i at Manoa, 1992).
  12. Lisa Schattenburg-Raymond, “A New Perspective on Hawai’ian Kapa-Making.” In Material Approaches to Polynesian Barkcloth: Cloth, Connections, Communities, edited by F. Lennard & A. Mills. Leiden (Netherlands: Sidestone Press, 2020).
  13. UNESCO, “Convention for the Safeguarding of the Intangible Cultural Heritage,” 2003. https://ich.unesco.org/en/convention
  14. Masazumi Seki, “Database of Traditional Papermaking Centers in East Asian Regions,” Senri Ethnological Studies 85 (2013): 61–81.
  15. Stephen Biggs & Don Messerschmidt, “Social Responsibility in the Growing Handmade Paper Industry of Nepal,” World Development 33, no. 11 (2005): 1821–1843.
  16. UNESCO, “Decision of the Intergovernmental Committee: 9.COM 10.22,” 2014. https://ich.unesco.org/en/decisions/9.COM/10.22
  17. Mina Takahashi, “Paperiana, Intended and Otherwise: A Survey of Handmade Paper Collections,” Hand Papermaking 20, no. 2 (Winter 1995): 3–22.
  18. Cekouat Elim León Peralta and James Ojascastro, “The Sticky Relationship Between Orchids and Amate Paper: Present and Possible Past,” Economic Botany 78, no. 2 (2024).