Nagoya, 1945: Survival - Gratitude - Creation

I've posted some images and thoughts on Japan's current disasters, both natural and man-made.

As I've also noted, the staggering task before Japan is complicated by years of economic prosperity. Even aside from the technological disaster of how to contain deadly nuclear reactors, the earthquake and tsunami left a region of the country buried under the everyday toxic materials of consumer society.

The big picture starts to make the country's task of rebuilding after World War II seem easy, in comparison: as if it had been mainly a matter of clearing rubble to make a clean start.

And despite the post-war scarcity of food and necessities, much of a war-weary populace looked forward to a freer life in a more democratic environment.

These thoughts of "then" versus "now"—and of the survivors whose lives were so terribly disrupted this March—also got me thinking about Ayako Miyawaki.

I didn't know her name at the time, but I started to see her designs when I lived in western Japan.

First, was this poster for a 1984 exhibition of appliqué works—
Unfortunately, I only saw the poster, not the show. But I was struck by the lively textile use in this design.

Then I began to notice fabric products printed with appliqué designs by the same artist. These were natural forms like fruit and vegetables, all fashioned from colorful textiles and signed with the syllable あ ["Ah".]

Catalog of a 1991 exhibit at the National Museum of Women in the Arts, in D.C.

Beautifully printed in Japan, this detailed look at the work is next-best to actually seeing it. (All images below are from the book.)

This is how I finally learned the artist's name, and something of her story: told in the catalog's biographical sketch, critical notes, and Ayako's own words.

Born in 1905, she married Haru Miyawaki, a painter who taught public school in Nagoya, where the couple lived with their three children.

Ayako was forty when the war ended. On that day—August 15, 1945—

...when tears streamed ceaselessly down my cheeks, I realized now that I would be free to use time I had so long spent in vain going in and out of the bomb shelter on many hard and unbearable days during wartime.

I was happy that the war was over and excited about my own free time, which I yearned to have and which had been long in coming. It was then that I thought I should begin to do something for myself. "Appliqué work" was the first thing that came to my mind.

It was a craft already popular in Japan, but generally done from printed patterns. Taking the old clothes and rags that were available to her, Ayako went to work on her own designs, based on observing natural forms.

When I completed my first work, I gave it a close and joyful embrace! I decided to produce one work a day and exhibited them on the wall of my room. Sometimes I asked my husband to comment on my creations, and sometimes my children would review my work as if they were full-fledged art critics. Those were happy days.

Beginning from that sense of gratitude at the opportunity to start over, joined to her creativity in observation and design, Ayako developed her work over the years.

The designs use a variety of fabrics, often Japanese prints, batiks, and kasuri.

The latter is a technique akin to ikat, with designs traditionally woven in white on an indigo background. An illustrated pdf on kasuri/ikat technique and design is here. Some colorful mass-produced kasuri of the 1950s—and even more colorful labels from the fabric bolts—are here.

Ayako makes ingenious use of printed fabrics and kasuri to form details:

Flatfish and Camellia, 1973

Chinese Cabbage, 1975

Swellfish, 1986

Various fibers also contribute detail:

Onion Cut in Two, 1965

Potential materials are all around us, and in the mid-1980s, Ayako did a number of designs from used coffee filter cloth.

Haniwa Clay Figure of a Dog, 1985

Haniwa Clay Figures of a Man and Woman Dancing, 1985

Oh, It's My Grandpa! 1985

As a textile lover, I find Ayako's work very pleasing in design and choice of materials. This noren curtain is especially charming, as she comments directly on both materials and forms.

Good Forms and Fine Textiles, 1986

A closeup of one bit of a panel shows the beauty of the fabric details contained in each gourd shape:
Ayako began exhibiting work to the public in the 1950s.

... In those days I was full of love for pieces of fabric, nature and natural objects, and full of the joy of creation. As time went on, when I felt aged, I realized how much I was mentally supported by creating my works—I became strong by having a solid purpose in life.

Over the years she received greater recognition, and a mid-1980s exhibit traveled to several Japanese cities.

After her husband's death in 1985—

... I was not myself for some time. But when I was told I could set his soul at rest by continuing my work, I started in again, bit by bit. I always think that my husband's soul is still with me. Whenever happy and delightful things happen to me, I feel his soul keeping guard over me.

In 1988 the Asahi Shimbun, a major national newspaper, arranged for a show to tour Japan, then go on display in D.C.

... When I first heard of this [American exhibit], I was near to tears with joy. I think my husband would be the second person to be glad of this news, if he were here. I can hear his voice saying, "good for you." I wish to express my heartfelt gratitude, as well as that of my late husband. Now I feel as happy as when I created my first works. Involuntarily, I am clasping my hands in prayer.