Growing up, Yasuo witnessed great change in his society. Many families left for the industrial cities and the remaining ones turned to other jobs . Papermaking had almost ceased completely in the area, and in his village his family was the only one left making paper. As farmers they grew rice and vegetables, and papermaking provided only a minor income. When he was in the last year of high school, one of the old masters of the craft came to visit his family and talked to Yasuo about taking over his mill and developing it. His visit left a deep impression in Yasuo's young heart. During that year, he decided that he would devote his life to preserving and developing the old craft. After graduating from high school came three unpromising years of hard work. In the winters he went to Osaka to work and save money, and in the summers he ploughed the deserted rice paddies on the steep mountainside to prepare them for planting kozo plants. "In those years I lived on bread and mayonnaise [!] but I knew that this was the way to fulfill my dream." Before returning home, he travelled throughout Japan, and visited and worked with various papermakers. Everywhere he went, he saw the fast decline of the craft. At the age of 20, he returned home, bringing new energy and ideas. He enlarged the facility, built new equipment, and soon became the head of his family's mill. In a few years he reinvigorated the mill into a thriving one, producing as many as fifty kinds of paper and paper products. The mill's distinguished paper, though, is still oguni washi, the paper unique to that area for centuries. This paper is made from kozo grown locally. The bark is stripped and cleaned. It is then put on the snow to bleach, a process called 'yuki-zarashi,' which is practiced only in the northern region of Japan. The bark is then cooked in wood ash and beaten. The fibers are mixed with cold, fresh water and tororo-aoi, and the paper is sometimes formed with a grass screen, known as 'kaya-su,' which is woven from local miscanthus grass. Its shape is like the usual bamboo suo At the end of the day the post of papers, with a board on top, is put outside to be buried under the falling snow, where it is gradually pressed. In springtime, before the snow melts, the post is dug out and the papers are dried on boards in the sun. Today this method is seldom practiced and only if specifically ordered. There is not much demand for this high quality paper, which Yasuo calls "healthy" paper, but he does what he can to produce and promote it. As part of this effort he has had many apprentices from Japan and abroad living and working with him for various periods of time. I had the opportunity to work with him for eight months in 1985. The fibers are produced from plants the Kobayashi family grows. The care for the paper starts in the field with After bark is stripped and cleaned it is put on the snow to bleach. Photo by Izhar Neumann. WINTER 1989 Yasuo rinsing native kozo bark in his workshop. Photo by Izhar Neumann. trimming the side branches so that the kozo will grow long and straight. They also grow the tororo-aoi plants. This is unique, as most papermakers today buy their raw materials. "Good paper can only be made with love for nature," Yasuo once told me. Yasuo feels a strong commitment not only to the paper but to the people making it. I remember paying a visit with him on a winter morning to Mrs. Eguchi, an elderly woman living with her mother, both of whom made oguni washi. She lived in a tiny village deep in the mountains. The snow walls on both sides of the road that morning were so high the sky was like a river. He came to encourage her and take her beautiful paper to sell for her. When her husband died and it was clear she could not support herself and her mother, he helped them move to a nearby town, recorded her experiences, and moved her tools to a museum. Mrs. Eguchi was probably the last papermaker who made true oguni washi exclusively. Yasuo strongly believes that there is a future for hand papermaking as well as other crafts and that they should play an important role in bringing back pride to the villagers and maybe reversing the process of urbanization. He transforms his belief into action in many ways: He trains and helps young people from his area set up paper mills, typically as secondary sources of income, in the winter . He is very active in the Japanese Papermakers Association and organized their meeting last year. He is also a major figure in the Young Papermaker's Association, which encourages young people to study and make paper. 17 As a leader in his own village, he initiated many projects to revive it. Among these was the renovation of an old thatched-roof house, turning it into a country inn where city people can rest and taste rural life while experiencing some of the local crafts, such as weaving, pottery, and papermaking. In 1985, he was elected to the regional council. He spent a day every week in the nearby town, representing his village and doing what he could to help local crafts. He gives lectures about his work and his ideas of developing rural Japan. He has become well known and receives many invitations to talk and demonstrate his work. In April of 1985 he closed the mill for a week and we all went to Tokyo to participate in a crafts fair he had been asked to help organize, in the giant Seibu department store. As fancy as it was, I sat on the floor and beat kozo bark. Although he is married and now has a child, Yasuo was single until not long ago, which may explain how he had time for all of these activities. Yasuo received, in the spring of 1989, at the age of 35, the first prize from the Japanese Agricultural Department (sponsored by the Mainichi newspaper) for his contribution to the development of his village and his craft. He was honored for his activities and for the quality of his paper. His paper is now well appreciated and is ordered long in advance. His enthusiasm and devotion to papermaking will surely help to revive beautiful washi.
