『涼』の文化哲学と芹沢銈介の型染Ryo Cultural Philosophy

The rainy season has ended, and summer has fully begun in Japan, but summers here have been becoming increasingly severe each year, partly due to global warming, making even the simple act of freely walking outside quite challenging. Although no one can predict exactly how the climate will change, I believe it is now more important than ever to experiment with incorporating historical aspects of Japanese culture into individual lifestyles. Such cultural experimentation will become a crucial factor in comfortably enduring the increasingly harsh summers we anticipate in the future.

In contemplating ways to survive this severe summer, I would like to introduce a cultural philosophy called ryo (涼). Simply put, it involves practicing a lifestyle that incorporates suzushisa (涼しさ, coolness), but this has nothing to do with holding a small electric fan to your face, as people in Japan do every day, or drinking cold water. Instead, the aim is to integrate a philosophical perspective on suzushisa from a cultural angle, adopting elements best suited to each individual’s lifestyle, allowing for a rich and comfortable experience even in harsh summer conditions.

Recently, during my research into the Japanese Mingei (民藝, folk craft) tradition, I acquired an extraordinary sensu (扇子). Unlike the mass-produced, low-quality items sold at tourist locations, this sensu is meticulously handcrafted from start to finish by a craftsman who has inherited cultural history. One might generally assume that whether a sensu is mass-produced or handmade, the resulting breeze would be the same, but having used this sensu, I’ve realized this assumption is entirely mistaken. This difference deeply connects to what I consider to be a crystallization of Japanese cultural wisdom: the philosophy of ryo. What, then, exactly is this cultural philosophy of ryo? In our current era, where superficial imitations marketed as Japanese culture flood the marketplace, understanding this distinction is particularly significant.

First, there have been numerous traditional Japanese words incorporating ryo. Here are several notable examples:

・ryofu (涼風): A cool, refreshing wind; pleasant breezes experienced in summer or early autumn.

・koryo (荒涼): A desolate, bleak state; landscapes that feel cold and lonely, devoid of human presence.

・shuryo (秋涼): The coolness felt during autumn; the refreshing climate typical of autumn.

・seiryo (清涼): Clear and refreshing; purity and pleasantly cool air or water.

・soryo (爽涼): Refreshingly cool; air or wind that feels fresh and invigorating.

・noryo (納涼): Enjoying coolness to escape summer heat; associated with customs such as wind chimes or evening cooling activities (yusuzumi, 夕涼み).

・bakuryo (爆涼): A modern coined term meaning extremely or explosively cool, used sometimes in advertising.

・ryoin (涼蔭): Cool shade provided by trees or shelter; preferred spots for escaping summer heat.

・ryoki (涼気): The feeling or air of coolness; a refreshing atmosphere experienced through wind or air.

・ryoshu (涼秋): Autumn accompanied by coolness; comfortable and refreshing autumnal weather.

・ryotei (涼亭): A pavilion or rest area designed specifically for enjoying coolness, often found in traditional gardens.

・ryomi (涼味): The sensation or taste of coolness; the essence of coolness experienced through food or atmosphere in summer.

・reiryo (冷涼): Pleasantly cool; mildly cold air or climate, comfortable without being excessively cold.

There are many more examples, indicating how broadly the concept of ryo is applied across various contexts. To me, ryo is not simply about lowering temperature or cooling the body; rather, it is a philosophical concept experienced culturally, deeply intertwined with historical Japanese culture through colors, designs, and materials such as dyes and wood. It might be called colors that evoke ryo or designs that embody ryo, but an intriguing discovery I made through this handmade sensu is that a genuine sensu profoundly expresses ko (香, fragrance).

In other words, a sensu is not merely a symbolic object of Japanese culture for fanning oneself; it represents the comprehensive crystallization of Japanese culture encompassing art, ko, and practical use. This combination allows one to experience ryo even in a harsh summer, while simultaneously providing tranquility through ko. In today’s stress-filled society, appreciating this cultural aspect seems particularly significant. Moreover, behind this cultural philosophy, preserved until today by only a few craftsmen, stands an influential figure: Keisuke Serizawa.

Although I have briefly mentioned Mingei before, Keisuke Serizawa (芹沢銈介, 1895–1984) was a distinguished Japanese textile artist who played a central role in the Mingei movement led by Soetsu Yanagi (柳宗悦). Having personally seen Serizawa’s work several times, I perceive his creations not merely as beautiful art objects but as refined cultural products deeply influenced by the Mingei philosophy. Particularly noteworthy is how Serizawa discovered a unique aesthetic in katazome (型染, a traditional dyeing technique using paper stencils and resist paste) and pursued the essence of Japanese culture through this technique. Without his achievements, the sensu I acquired might represent a cultural practice that could have vanished today.

Serizawa was a pioneer who beautifully sublimated the profound essence of Japanese culture through the traditional technique of katazome, deeply inspired by two pivotal encounters that transformed his life: first, at the age of 32 in 1927, while on a ship journey, Serizawa read Soetsu Yanagi’s essay, “The Way of Craft” (工藝の道), and was profoundly moved, later stating it clarified the path his craft should follow; second, the very next year in 1928, he encountered Okinawa’s traditional textile known as bingata (紅型) at an exhibition in Tokyo, where he felt so entranced by its patterns, colors, and materials that he described it as a “dream-like experience,” convinced he had found his ideal form of dyeing in bingata, which represented more than just a dyeing technique—it embodied the profound beauty nurtured by Japan’s climate and traditions.

From that point onward, Serizawa dedicated himself lifelong to katazome, making it the core of his expression. Traditionally, katazome involved separate artisans for each step—designing, stencil-cutting, and dyeing—but Serizawa radically challenged this convention by undertaking all stages alone, a groundbreaking attempt aimed at unifying his aesthetic vision throughout each detail of his work. This effort was not only a profound expression of respect for traditional techniques but also demonstrated his strong will to pioneer a new cultural dimension through his creativity. Today, as a reaction against globally industrialized societies characterized by specialization, practices that integrate creation through to sales have become popular. In a sense, Serizawa stands as a pioneer of this integrated approach.

Notably, Japan had already established a highly specialized division of labor during the Edo period, which smoothly transitioned into accelerated industrialization during the Meiji era. Reacting against this widespread industrial fragmentation, Serizawa deliberately rejected division of labor, choosing instead the path of personal, unified production. I personally value this approach highly, believing it creates a cultural circulation where the creator’s passion and intention flow directly through to the consumer. Indeed, whenever I observe or discuss Japanese culture with its practitioners, the presence or absence of this cultural circulation is my most critical consideration.

Thus, the style established by Serizawa transcended traditional katazome and later came to be recognized uniquely as kataezome (型絵染). The term kataezome itself was newly coined when Serizawa was designated a Living National Treasure for this art form in 1956. At the time, he was praised for “establishing painterly patterns rooted in traditional katazome techniques,” but the deeper reality was that he brilliantly sublimated the essential core of Japanese culture itself.

Serizawa, deeply influenced by Yanagi’s philosophy of Mingei, meticulously incorporated Japanese seasonal sensibilities and views of nature into his work. Thus, Serizawa’s katazome was not merely about preserving traditional culture—it truly represented a Japanese culture where “life and art seamlessly blend.” Consequently, his creations were not confined to traditional textile items like kimono, obi, noren, and folding screens but extended widely into everyday objects such as tablecloths, curtains, book covers, calendars, sensu, matchbox labels, and more, reflecting the Mingei belief that true beauty resides precisely in practical, daily-life items—a cultural essence Serizawa continuously explored through katazome, showcasing the uniquely Japanese ability for cultural remixing.

Equally remarkable was Serizawa’s commitment to nurturing successors. Post-war, his workshop attracted numerous apprentices, becoming a critical cultural nexus where the techniques and spirit of katazome were diligently transmitted. To further popularize katazome in Japan, Serizawa established the Serizawa Senshi Kenkyujo (芹沢染紙研究所, Serizawa Dyeing and Paper Research Institute) on his property in 1955. Set up just ten years after Japan’s defeat in World War II, this institute embodied Serizawa’s heartfelt desire to enrich people’s lives—even amid severe material shortages—by introducing beautifully handcrafted everyday items. The philosophy behind this research institute was “blending into daily life” (暮らしに溶け込む), and I am deeply inspired by this ethos, which also resonates with the wabi-sabi (侘び寂び) aesthetic tradition.

The sensu I acquired was crafted by an artisan trained under Serizawa at this very institute. Using this sensu has made other sensu nearly impossible to consider, not merely because of its quality, but because Serizawa’s consistent philosophy regarding Japanese culture—carefully preserved by his successors—captures the essence of “blending into daily life” at a fundamental level, embodying a cultural circulation that reaches me across time and space.

Historically, katazome has always been compared unfavorably to the opulent and aristocratic Yuzen-zome (友禅染), often marginalized due to its folk origins. However, following the dissemination of Yanagi’s Mingei theory and through the extraordinary craftsmanship of Serizawa, the re-evaluation and appreciation of katazome dramatically rose. Unlike Yuzen-zome, whose cultural influence peaked and then declined, katazome—said to have reached its zenith around the 18th century—has survived continuously into the present day, resilient even in an era dominated by mass-produced goods.

To comfortably navigate not only Japan’s but also your own harsh summer, I highly encourage readers everywhere to experience a uniquely Japanese summer by finding a sensu perfectly suited to their personal lifestyle!