The trip to Kochi (where Tosa washi is made), Shimane (Izumo washi), and Fukui (Echizen washi) not only strengthened my dedication to using washi in contemporary kites, but also gave me a chance to reflect upon paper's role in kite making over the centuries. Tom Crouch, Senior Curator of Aeronautics at the Smithsonian's Air and Space Museum calls the kite "the oldest aerodynamic device capable of sustained flight…No device was of more importance to the invention of the airplane than the kite." He argues that the kite, which has "delighted children and playful adults for centuries \[demonstrates\] the importance of the play impulse as a factor encouraging technological change."1 What is looked upon as a simple toy has made important contributions to the world of aeronautics, and, today, kites are gaining a serious following amongst artists worldwide. Kites have probably existed for 3,000 years. It is rare to find cultures without a kite tradition. The first unambiguous reference to a kite appeared in Chinese literature from about 200 bce; the kite itself is almost certainly older. Both silk and bamboo were cultivated long before that date. It is most likely that these two materials were used (as they are today) in the first Chinese kites. We know that kites spread throughout Asia via known trade routes. They were present in Japan and Korea by approximately 1000 ce, and commonplace in Malaysia, Indonesia, and Thailand by the 1500s. But where did the first kite appear? Kites are almost always a product of their environment and utility. The earliest kites Waves to Washi to Wings: Traditional Japanese Paper in Contemporary Kites scott r. skinner A detailed miniature tombi-dako by Kyoto's Nobuhiko Yoshizumi. Wingspan is approximately 8 inches. All photos courtesy of the author unless otherwise noted. A giant Shirone kite from the 1930s. Kites, like this one, are still flown across the local river to fight rival teams in Ajikata. Intentionally tangled, these kites are destroyed during the resulting tug-of-war. Nagashizuki papermaking method for the production of Tosa tengujoshi paper at Hamada Paper in Kochi, Japan. summer 2006 - 23 were probably simple, utilitarian leaf kites, developed in the islands of the Pacific. In these seafaring cultures, a fisherman would bridle and fly a single dried leaf in order to send his line beyond tidal reefs. It is similarly uncertain when the first kite appeared in Europe, but it probably originated as a windsock or banner flown by the last Roman legions. Pennon-shaped kites were commonplace in thirteenth- and fourteenth-century Europe, but by the early sixteenth century their popularity had been usurped by lozenge or arch-top designs that probably came to Europe via trade routes from Asia. By the early 1700s, kites were popular enough to cause French authorities to forbid the flying of kites in public places due to riots that broke out between contending kite fliers. We will see similar behavior in Japan.2 Having made kites for over twenty years, and flown them for another ten before that, I have seen kites made from an amazing array of materials: leaf kites in the South Pacific; tissue and bamboo Indian fighting kites; silk and bamboo Chinese creations; ripstop nylon and carbon-fiber contemporary European and American kites; and Tyvek™ children's workshop kites, to name a few. But the washi and bamboo kites of Japan have inspired me the most. Washi, especially that made from kozo (the paper mulberry plant), is ideal for kites. It is flexible and strong, but lightweight, tear-resistant, and a beautiful canvas for paint, dye, ink, or photography. A large variety of kites can be made from the range of washi available. Kite makers use strong, double-laminated kozo sheets to make large kites like those flown in Shirone. The World's Smallest Kite record holder Nobuhiko Yoshizumi uses micro-thin gampi papers to fabricate his miniature creations. In thinking about Japanese papermakers and kite makers, I always remember something I read in a Hiromi Paper International catalog: "The close relationship between papermaker and paper user resulted in washi becoming an integral part of the Japanese culture."3 Kites were introduced to Japan sometime around the Nara period (645–794); almost at the same time that papermaking was introduced by the Korean Buddhist priest, Doncho. The earliest written record of kites in Japan can be found in two publications, both written in Chinese characters from the early 700s: the Fudoki \[Records of Wind and Earth\] and the Nihongi \[Chronicles of Japan\]. The earliest Japanese-language word for kite, kami-tobi (literally, paper-hawk), is recorded in the Wamyo Ruiju Sho, a Japanese dictionary of Chinese characters compiled in the Shohei era (931–938). Paper appears to be the chosen kitesail material because the two Chinese characters that make up the word for kite are shiroshi (paper, venerable hawk) and shien (paper hawk) that "rides the wind and flies well."4 These early kites were most likely T-shaped, with pocketed wings and long bodies. It is an aerodynamic shape that lends itself to creatures associated with flight—birds and insects—as well as gods and humans. The shape has survived through the centuries and we see it today in tombi, yakko, and sode kites.5 Tombi are eagle kites; variations of the design are seen throughout Japan. Yakko, or a footman kite, depicts the lowest-ranking retainer of a samurai household, a person mocked by commoners and made famous on the Kabuki stage in the yakko-odori (footman dance). Sode, or a sleeve kite, is in the shape of a kimono and famous in the Chiba area of Japan. Throughout Japan today, kites are also known as ika or tako. The Wakan Sansai Zue, an illustrated encyclopedia published in 1712, includes the first visual representation of an ika-nobori (literally An ukiyo-e by Yoshifuji from the mid- 1800s showing the tako-tako and other sophisticated designs of the time. All photos on this page courtesy of Simon J. Bond. Yakko takohei (Mr. Yakko-kite) from a popular New Year's play about the Soga Brothers. This is the upper left panel of an unusual L-shaped triptych by Utagawa Kunisada, from 1857. Four ornate rectangular Edo kite designs by an unknown artist, late 1800s. 24 - hand papermaking squid-banner), a kite that looks like a squid with a bell-shaped body and five thin tails. In flight, this aerodynamic kite shape is a convincing reproduction of a real squid (ika) or octopus (tako). Kites were very popular during the 1600s. However, enthusiastic kiteflying often led to scuffles and brawls. In an attempt to control this disorderly behavior, the government issued an edict in 1644 to restrict kiteflying within the capital. Under Tokugawa rule, the government tried to control the morals of the people with a variety of sumptuary laws: what different classes were required to wear; what sizes their houses could be; and a myriad of other restrictions, including when and where kiteflying could occur. In the early 1700s, Japan was hit with kite mania. Shopkeepers were said to have neglected their stores to fly kites. Enormous kites damaged crops and property and Western encyclopedias at that time described Japanese skies filled with kites. Countless laws were passed to stem play, enforce restraint, and direct citizens toward purposeful pursuits. Size restrictions were imposed in some cities and artists were prohibited from using extravagant materials in their decorations (such as silver or gold leaf). As an example, in 1796, the Morozakiya establishment, kite makers in Funamatsucho, began selling large kites (those that were made of more than two sheets of paper). Brightly painted by local artists, these kites were very expensive, but spoiled children were said to want only the products of Morozakiya. In response, the lord of Hamamatsu castle decreed in 1807 that kites should not be ostentatiously decorated or be more than four feet square. Ordinary citizens were traditionally contemptuous of authority, and kiteflying itself could have been a mild form of rebellion against a stratified hierarchy. Commoners loved to fly kites over the compounds of noble families in Edo \[eighteenth-century Tokyo\]. Though not specifically forbidden, this activity was considered a way of thumbing one's nose at social superiors.6 The most unique aspect of Japan's kite culture is its regional or local focus. Because of the feudal nature of Japan in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, provincial lords made twice-yearly visits to Tokyo, returning home with the latest examples of art and craft. At first imitating Edo kites and their rectangular and rigid form to fly in high winds, provincial designs gradually evolved into their distinctly regional forms that are seen today. These designs evolved based upon environment (the light, floppy ho-dako of Ikazaki or a fighting kite flown in light, mountain winds), foreign influence (the early hata of Nagasaki was probably introduced by Dutch traders from India), and festival tradition (such as the large kites flown in Hamamatsu and Shirone by teams to honor new births and foster neighborhood pride). In the book Kyobun Azumanamari \[Crazy Description of Eastern Dialects\], printed in 1813, four major types of kites were identified: square kites painted with large characters; kites painted with a picture; kites in the shape of an object, like the yakko, tombi, or sode; and specialty kites, such as kites with lights for night flying.7 Although less popular than in previous centuries, kites maintained a healthy presence in twentieth-century Japan until World War II. The world's largest kite in 1906 was a wan-wan kite from Naruto. Twenty yards across, it weighed over 5,500 pounds. In Shirone, the kite-fighting tradition is over 300 years old and continued throughout World War II because of its importance to local morale. When I first became interested in Japanese kites in the early 1980s, I thought the tradition might be in a permanent decline. David Kung's self-published book, Japanese Kites: A Vanishing Art, from 1961, profiled a number of kite makers with no Two Shirone kites about to engage, from the 1930s. Round wan-wan kite of Naruto, from the 1930s. summer 2006 - 25 one to carry on their craft. Perhaps the most poignant was Jiroji Fukuda, 76, who said, "I haven't any particular comments to make about kite making, but feel sad to think that kites, about which I have been so enthusiastic since my childhood that I often forgot meals in my absorption, are now suffering their decline, according to the dictates of time. I am afraid that kite making has arrived at a hopeless state…"8 Luckily, today, kite associations throughout Japan keep traditional kite making arts alive. In many cities, kiteflying is a central activity on Children's Day (May 5th) because the kite represents strength, endurance, and long life. It is a New Year's icon as well. Contemporary kite makers often glean pictorial information from nineteenth-century New Year's ukiyo-e when designing their kites. The number of professional kite makers continues to dwindle, but local and regional enthusiasts study the techniques and traditions to make the craft a vital one for the future. The kite festival at Hamamatsu provides the most vivid example of the traditional kite culture's link to modern Japan. On Children's Day, kites are flown by over fifty local neighborhoods to celebrate children born in the previous year. Teams are comprised of children, who play in raucous bands; teenagers, who do the bulk of running and pulling; men, supervising final kite adjustments and flight; and women, cooking and serving tired kite fliers. Times are changing, with women taking a more active role in kite production and kiteflying. Today, there is a small, but vibrant international group of kite artists using paper and bamboo as their primary materials. The following artists have greatly inspired me, but more importantly, I think their work serves to show the variety and individuality that result when different people put their minds to kites. Artist, author, and kite maker Tal Streeter has had an immense influence upon kite artists today primarily through his 1974 book, The Art of the Japanese Kite. Through experimentation and inquiry, Streeter learned and passed on a great deal about Japanese kite making, but it is his ability as a storyteller that sets him apart and inspires kite makers worldwide. A world-class sculptor of largescale metal works, Streeter creates kites that show an economy of design and quiet aesthetics. Hungary's István Bodóczky constructs highly unusual kites that appear to be "aerodynamically impossible" yet he finds the hidden symmetry that makes them fly. Bodóczky is a fine art professor in Budapest and employs lithography, collage, photography, and drawing in his kite designs. Sisters Kisa and Anke Sauer, from Germany, illustrate the power of using one's own artistic strengths to create unique statements in the kite form. Kisa Sauer adapts vivid graphics from stage design to make surprising "sky walkers" while Anke Sauer works in almost monk-like solitude to create three-dimensional, collapsible kites like no others. Her pyramidal forms depend upon a combination of stiffness and flexibility in the paper to become "box kites" without sticks, flat kites that aren't flat, and flexible kites that have rigidity. Combining an art education with experience in teaching, Austria's Anna Rubin appears open to any kite and flight idea. Her elaborate constructions are often delicate, but always functional. They remain kites first, and sculpture second. Rubin takes advantage of the distinct properties of bamboo, splitting, tapering, and bending it, to make surprising shapes that are dependably airworthy. For many of her kites, she uses a minimum amount of paper to lift them skyward. The chaos of today's Hamamatsu kite festival is little changed since this one documented in the 1930s. One of Tal Streeter's Red Line kites, early 1970s, 6 x 3 feet. Courtesy of Stuart Allen. 26 - hand papermaking Canadian painter Robert Trepanier sends often-morose caricatures of his neighbors into the sky. His large-scale creations are seen worldwide in kite festivals, but his smaller paper and bamboo kites truly showcase his artistic skills. He documents his humanshaped kites flying near smokestacks, large buildings, and natural monuments to emphasize the kite flier's link to his environment. In describing just these few examples of fine paper kites made throughout the world, I hope the reader will be inspired to use his or her own skills to make a unique kite. During my thirty years of kiteflying and kite making, inspiration has never been in short supply for me. For many years, I made kites with geometric patchwork motifs, inspired by traditional Japanese kites, using ripstop nylon instead of paper. I had always associated paper with painting and drawing, so it took me fifteen years of kite making before I even considered using paper in my own kites. After producing many kites on common themes—kanji, birds, carp, and so forth— I found the limited color palette of ripstop nylon to be confining, and gravitated towards paper. Having collected paper on every kite trip to Japan, I had an array of washi to choose from when I began experiments with pieced-paper-and-bamboo kites. My patchwork method now became an ally. With washi's expanded color range, I was able to logically progress from simple four- or nine-patch patterns to those of significantly more detail. The choice of paper is important in kite making because the end result must function as a kite! Paper must be strong enough to resist tearing, flexible enough to respond to the wind, and light enough to lift itself and its structure into the sky. I generally choose medium-weight kozo papers that I compare side-by-side with paper used in early kites. Kozo paper offers long, strong fibers and a high degree of flexibility and softness. Another advantage of making kites with paper and bamboo is that it can essentially be done with two tools: adhesive (white glue or, in my case, tape) and a bamboo knife. Acting as a plane, router, and sander, the bamboo knife is used to split, shave, and smooth the bamboo when preparing spars for kites. For me, the "paste" that makes patchwork techniques possible is 2-millimeter- and 3-millimeter-wide double-sided tape. I obtain my tape from Ito-ya, a stationery store in Tokyo. The tape has proven to make an almost-permanent bond, but more importantly, it enables me to place my "seam lines" with precision in my patchwork blocks. Complex blocks like the seven-piece one shown on the next page can still be multiplied into larger blocks with no loss of accuracy. The paper's subtle shades of color, not to mention its texture and weight, can be used to great effect since kites are seen at a distance and with transmitted light. Washi is a dependable sail material for kites that are almost one square meter in area. Most damage can be easily repaired, and only a rainstorm can keep the kites from flying on a given day. Having visited the papermakers on this year's Hiromi Paper International Washi Tour, I realize that our continued use of their product will help their art to survive. I am optimistic that Japanese hand papermaking will flourish, as there is an increasing number of artists and students studying and practicing the craft. Here is a material that is literally made for kites, and has been for over 1,000 years. Whether it is painted on, printed on, or assemblaged, washi is the ideal carrier for kites. In using my patchwork techniques, I am discovering secondary and tertiary patterns in my kite designs that are unexpected and pleasing. This keeps me motivated to undertake more complex projects. I am inspired to continue helping washi take flight. A Sky Walker by Kisa Sauer, from 2003, nearly life-size, reminding the flyer of his or her own size relative to the environment. Courtesy of Kiyomi Okawa. Two of Anna Rubin's untitled bamboo and paper masterpieces from 2003. Courtesy of Ali Fujino. Anke Sauer's pyramidal creation (2003, 14 x 20 inches) first rolls, then folds absolutely flat! Courtesy of Kiyomi Okawa. summer 2006 - 27 ___________ notes 1. Tom D. Crouch et al. The Genesis of Flight: The Aeronautical History Collection of Colonel Richard Gimbel (Seattle: University of Washington Press in association with Friends of the United States Air Force, 2000). 2. Clive Hart, Kites: An Historical Survey, rev. 2nd ed. (Mt. Vernon, NY: Paul P. Appel, 1982). 3. Hiromi Paper International Catalogue, 4th ed. (Santa Monica, CA: Hiromi Paper International, 2004). 4. Tal Streeter, "High Art: Keeping Ancient Asian Kitemaking Traditions Alive in Modern Japan," in Kites: Paper Wings Over Japan, Scott R. Skinner and Alison Fujino, eds. (New York: Thames and Hudson, 1997). 5. Streeter, "High Art." 6. John Stevenson, Japanese Kite Prints: Selections from the Skinner Collection (Seattle: The Drachen Foundation, 2004). 7. Stevenson, Japanese Kite Prints. 8. David Kung, Japanese Kites: A Vanishing Art (Tokyo: published by the author, 1962). Detail of Edo Kite Variations, made by the author. István Bodóczky, Untitled, 1998, approximately 20 x 28 inches. Courtesy of Ali Fujino. Robert Trepanier, Fighter with my Neighbor, 2004, 14 x 14 inches. Courtesy of Kiyomi Okawa. 28 - hand papermaking Postscript What do nine international kite artists do in their 15 minutes of free time after three intense days of travel and kite making? They fly kites, of course! In March 2006, artists from Austria, Canada, Hungary, Italy, Japan, and the U.S. traveled to Kochi, Japan to explore the wonders of washi. Participants included Anna Rubin, Eveline Bischof, and Daniela Zitzmann from Austria; Robert Trepanier, Canada; István and Tony Bodóczky from Hungary; Alessia Marrocu, Italy; Nobuhiko Yoshizumi, Japan; and Scott Skinner from the U.S. The trip was expertly led by Hiromi Katayama and the artists enjoyed their stay at the Ino Paper Museum's state-of-the-art ryokan (Japanese inn) with its gourmet restaurant and luxurious baths. For two full days, the group used an open classroom at the museum to create a total of 28 kites. The weather cooperated, offering a clear sky for the artists to launch their kites, shortly before they installed them at the museum for an exhibition. The kites demonstrate the utility of washi, including two large, foldable kites by Robert Trepanier, a delicate and ephemeral halo by Anna Rubin, innovative structures and sumi painting by Nobuhiko Yoshizumi, and fabric and paper collages by Daniela Zitzmann. The kites will travel back to the U.S. via the Hui No'eau Visual Arts Center in Maui, Hawaii. They will then be presented at the Maryland Institute College of Art in Baltimore, to coincide with Hand Papermaking's twentieth-anniversary event. Alessia Marrocu involved in the bamboo forest. Photo: Robert Trepanier. István Bodóczky prepares an asymmetric structure. Photo: Scott Skinner. Nobuhiko Yoshizumi launches his cantilevered kite. Photo: Scott Skinner. Anna Rubin flies the "Meeting" in Kochi. Photo: Scott Skinner.