In 2008, I visited Kamiji Kakimoto, a renowned paper shop in Kyoto that sells hundreds of beautiful Japanese papers "washi". I became fascinated by how these papers are made through techniques perfected over centuries, by artisans deeply committed to their craft. Their work carried a sense of humility but also a faint hint of pride. Since then, I wanted to spread awareness, in my own small way, about the incredible individuals behind this very simple yet masterfully crafted material.

As I visited washi workshops, it was heartbreaking to hear artisans say that their work is not only hard but also difficult to sustain them financially. The artcraft is in decline, and keeping it alive is a crucial question that the industry has been facing for many decades now. From my conversations with artisans over the years, here is an overview that scratches the surface of all the challenges to overcome, how the craftspeople have striven before and what is currently attempted to face the crisis.

The challenges

Washi, primarily made from the paper mulberry ("kozo" in Japanese), along with mitsumata and gampi fibers, undergoes an arduous process. After steaming and stripping the bark, artisans convert the white fibers into paper pulp through steps such as cooking in alkaline baths, washing, sun exposure for whitening, and meticulous hand-picking of dust and impurities to ensure further whiteness and lasting quality. After beating the fibers, the artisan forms sheets by scooping the pulp with a wooden frame in a vat. Many artisans also cultivate their plants, adding another layer of difficulty to an already laborious craft. Overall, washi artisans must endure physically demanding work, rural isolation, nature unscheduled and the challenge of running a business in a niche market.

The process described above is considered the traditional way to make washi, which has been inherited from many centuries before. But since the introduction of Western papermaking methods during the Meiji period(1868–1912), handmade washi artisans have faced a drastic decline. The 1960s-70s saw further blows, with rural depopulation adding to the struggles.

Additionally, the few opportunities to formally learn washi-making during a scholar course make it difficult to attract young people to enter the field. Indeed, the customary way to learn is the master-apprentice model that requires a good relationship with the instructor…under his or her roof. Nowadays, more than often, the motivation for being a washi artisan is to keep this cultural heritage alive, blending duty and passion, rather than just “learning a job”.

Despite the challenges, Japanese hand-made washi continues to be praised for its quality. The growing demand for cheap, easily made and highly consumable paper has forced some makers to adopt a more or less mechanization of the production. But this has led to an endless variety of washi and, as the Nihonga artist Asuka Fujita notes, varying the product parameters suits any kind of needs. The key challenge remains: educating the public on the value of washi and its deep-rooted culture.

Past answers

The craft of washi is something many Japanese people first encounter during their school years. In elementary and junior high schools, students are given the opportunity to make their own sheet of washi to print their graduation diploma. And in most cases, artisans with their own workshops open their doors to the public, allowing visitors to experience washi-making under their expert guidance.

However, initiatives to promote washi culture on a national scale are relatively rare and highly selective. One prominent example is the Densan label, awarded by Japan’s Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry. As of 2024, only 9 types of washi hold this prestigious label, totaling a mere 60 artisans recognized as Dentōkōgeishi (Traditional Craftspersons).

At the regional level, the most noteworthy initiative of the past decade came from the syndicates of Sekishu Banshi, Hon-Mino-shi, and Hosokawa Washi, which successfully registered these three washi traditions as UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage. Although the UNESCO recognition applies only to these three paper types and their specific production methods, it is seen internationally as an acknowledgment of the broader skill and dedication of all handmade washi artisans, thereby benefiting the entire community.

However, for craftspeople in labeled regions, the marketing job is largely handled thanks to the boost from PR exposure. In contrast, artisans from other areas often need to advocate harder for their equally valuable craftsmanship. A lot of the promotional work for washi happens locally, from independent efforts of city governments and local communities. These initiatives typically rely on word of mouth, regional newspapers, and social networks to build awareness.

Personally, I have a soft spot for these lesser-known places that could benefit from ancillary help.

It is also my opinion, as a person being on both shores of the industry, that efforts to tap into international markets have not been to their best, despite a growing demand for washi over the past decade. One major obstacle to expanding overseas is the language barrier. When I first visited craftsman Norito Hasegawa (Inshu, Tottori), I asked if he would consider taking international orders, but he said no, explaining he lacks English abilities. The craftswoman Mayumi Takahashi expressed similar concerns, citing the fear of miscommunication as well as the risks associated with shipping orders overseas. For these reasons, many artisans prefer to rely on intermediary agents who can handle communication, ordering, and shipping. Unfortunately, there are very few such agents today, including myself. To truly sustain the craft and bring washi to international audiences, the number of intermediaries must increase as it would bridge the gap between Japan and potential markets abroad.

Adaptive initiatives

Several strategies have been implemented by artisans, syndicates, and local governments to boost paper sales and increase the appeal of the profession.

I’ve noticed a new generation of handmade washi artisans who refuse to compromise on the value of their work. They prioritize producing high-grade paper through meticulous craftsmanship, working in small batches with labor-intensive, hands-on processes. This contrasts with earlier generations, for whom making washi was a daily routine, where they worked behind the vat even when no orders were coming in. The shift in approach is often reflected in its price, with basic kozo paper sheets now costing at least 800 yen on average.

While the reassessment of handmade work's value is necessary, the flexibility of small workshops allows artisans to find other ways to monetize their knowledge. Unlike mechanized paper mills that focus on mass production, handmade workshops can tailor the production to meet the specific customer demands. Daisuke Kikuchi, craftsman of Nishinouchi Washi, explained in an Asahi article that making paper is not just considering tradition but also "the customer’s wishes." This openness to collaboration allows artisans to create custom-made washi for new clients - sometimes, luxury brands. Mechanized factories also recognize this, and build made-to-order equipment to fulfill demands of large size and specific shape.

Thus, artisans may want to seek collaborative work to produce unique kinds of washi. Beyond financial gain, these collaborations present an opportunity for artisans to challenge themselves and improve their skills, leading to novelty products that align with current trends. A great example of this is the "Food Paper" developed by the Igarashi Paper Factory in Echizen to tackle raw material shortage.

Additionally, washi artisans are finding new ways to share their knowledge and expand their craft through teaching. Some are offering artist residencies or short-term courses. For instance, Kozo Ue has partnered with a local guesthouse to offer a four-day workshop where participants learn the entire papermaking process. While not enough time to master washi, it gives a glimpse into the life of the artisans.

Proaction over reaction

Many other challenges remain to be exposed to understand why the handmade washi industry has been stagnant for the past decades. These hurdles are similar to those faced by other crafts. Still, washi artisans always find ways to renew themselves and keep their heads above water. However, I can only observe that adaptation is prioritized over proaction, which would be key to truly "revitalize" the craft. A clear lack of time has often prevented artisans from expanding their businesses. The internet and social media have helped them communicate better, and let's hope that new tools like AI will help bridge the gap between washi culture and the world. Also, promise me you will visit a washi workshop for your next vacation and support the artcraft !