Picture Frames: A Traditional Craft with Over 150 Years of History

I never knew that the picture frames you often see in museums are a traditional craft.

It's not widely known, but Tokyo frames are a traditional craft with a history spanning over 150 years.

When Western-style painting ('yoga') came to Japan during the Meiji era, art was broadly divided into Japanese-style ('nihonga') and Western-style. Consequently, frames also split into Western-style frames imported from the West and Japanese-style frames ('wagakubuchi') that evolved from traditional cabinetry ('sashimono').

In the West, frame ornaments are typically made from hardened plaster. However, for mass production in Japan, artisans who carved wooden molds for traditional sweets like 'rakugan' began to apply their skills. They created decorations by pressing a paste made of 'gofun' (crushed seashell powder), 'nikawa' (animal glue), and 'funori' (seaweed glue) into these molds. They also incorporated distinctly Japanese motifs like chrysanthemums, leaves, and arabesques, allowing the craft to develop in a uniquely Japanese way.

When did Fuji Seigaku start making frames?

We were founded in 1947 in Nezu, Bunkyo Ward, and now continue our craft in Arakawa Ward, Tokyo. The business began when our founder, who inherited a 'sashimono' (cabinetry) workshop, used his 'urushi' (lacquer) skills to create photo frames for the overseas market. Today, our scope has expanded to include frames for oil, watercolor, and Japanese paintings, with the company now in the hands of the third-generation owner, Kazushi Yoshida.

Our workshop is unique because we have a woodworking department on the first floor, while all the ornamentation, finishing, and final mounting happen on the second. With very few companies still making Tokyo frames, Fuji Seigaku is the only one that handles the entire process in-house, from wood processing to the finished product. We work closely with art galleries, dealers, frame shops, and artists, using our experience and techniques to provide fully custom frames, 'gakuso' (art mounting), and frame restoration services.

Could you walk us through the manufacturing process of a Tokyo frame, a process that truly highlights the artisan's skill?

First, a woodworker carves various types of wood, such as walnut or maple, into a base frame, tailored to the client's desired finish. There is no room for error. They must account for the wood's subtle warping and even its seasonal expansion and contraction as they make each cut. The wood is cut with delicate precision, then glued, pressed, and assembled.

From there, the frame artisan takes over. They apply ornaments made from wooden molds onto the base frame. Then begins a meticulous cycle of applying a base coat, varnish, and lacquer, followed by drying and sanding. For some frames, this process is repeated more than ten times. The resulting smooth, lacquer-like surface is a testament to this incredibly painstaking work. This process completely conceals the original wood grain, creating a sleek, smooth texture.

Finally, the finishing color is applied, and gold or silver leaf is meticulously pressed onto the frame. Pigments and oil paints are used to create the beautiful aesthetic of a piece that has aged gracefully over time. Every step is infused with techniques designed to make the artwork it holds truly stand out.

Clothing and Frames: Both Make the Star of the Show Shine Brighter

Kurihara, you went from aspiring to be a designer to becoming a picture frame artisan. What did you find so appealing about this path?

As a student, I studied in the design department and wanted to get into making clothes. But this was during the 'employment ice age,' and finding a job was a real challenge. Through a connection—my grandfather and the third-generation owner of Fujiseigaku had attended the same university—I had the chance to tour the company.

When I saw the craftsmanship of frame making firsthand, it reminded me of the similarities between making frames and making clothes. I had been a regular visitor to a modern art museum near my family's home, hoping to find inspiration for my clothing designs. Even back then, I believed that clothes that bring out a model's best features and frames that enhance a piece of art serve the exact same purpose.

I thought, 'This could be a place where I can use my experience in clothing design and my personal interests to create something.' That's what made me decide to pursue the path of a frame artisan.

What kind of techniques do you use to bring out the best in a painting?

One technique used for Western-style frames is called furubi, or antiquing. It’s a method for giving a brand-new frame the look and feel of a piece that has aged over time. For example, on a white base, we might use a yellowish-green paint to create the texture of accumulated dust or dirt, suggesting the passage of time. A frame that's too new and shiny can actually make the painting itself look washed out. We also layer on various other techniques, like creating contrast in the gloss to make the artwork pop.

We get all sorts of requests, like creating a yellowed effect as if from resin, or lightly dusting a black frame with metallic powder. Some artists even have us continuously create custom frames designed specifically for them and their work.

We work backward from the customer's desired final look, building up layers to create a single, complete frame. There's no single formula; we find the best path forward by combining our artistic sense, experience, and technical skill.

So the artisan's expression is embedded in the way you maximize the painting's appeal.

My mentor, the master who trained me, was a naturally gifted artisan with incredible skills who also worked as a painter. He often used to say, "A frame must be a beautiful object in its own right."

But at the end of the day, the painting is the star of the show. All our skill, experience, and even our life force are poured into making it shine. The person viewing the art might not even notice we exist. But it’s our hidden expression that truly makes the painting's beauty stand out. This quiet pride is the greatest joy of being an artisan. I honestly don't think there's a more rewarding job out there.

As a Next-Generation Artisan, I'll Keep Sharing the Allure of Picture Frames

You're very active in promoting the craft of frame making, aren't you?

Historically, frame artisans have tended to stay out of the limelight, working behind the scenes. When a painting is displayed in a museum, the caption lists the artist's name, but never the frame maker's. I think there was a certain pride among artisans in being that 'unsung hero.'

But with the number of frame artisans dwindling and frame-making companies disappearing, I've come to feel a duty to share the appeal of this craft with a wider audience to ensure the precious techniques I inherited from my master are passed on. While continuing to create high-quality work, I'm also focusing on outreach—doing interviews, appearing on TV and radio, and just getting the word out.

I hear your collaboration with a designer on the Tokyo Teshigoto Project, the "Tokyo Frame Vase," was also developed to introduce picture frames to a contemporary audience.

The "Tokyo Frame Vase" is a single-stem vase made from the corner of a picture frame. We wanted to leverage traditional frame-making techniques to create a product that fits with modern lifestyles. We worked closely with the designer, aiming for a product that would make people think, "Wow, picture frames are cool!"

There are two versions: a "Japanese Frame" style that highlights the natural wood grain with a beeswax finish, and a "Western Frame" style decorated with gold leaf and an antique finish. By applying the artisans' skills—like using wooden molds and layering paint and foil—we've created an item that people can enjoy in their daily lives, perfect for displaying a flower or a postcard.

Kurihara's dedication to both crafting exceptional pieces and broadcasting their charm truly embodies the spirit of the modern artisan—someone essential for the times ahead.

I believe that for modern artisans, it’s essential to master both the craft of making and the art of storytelling.

As we create more avenues for people to discover the world of frame making, I've been getting amazing feedback. People tell me things like, "I never realized how fascinating frames are!" or "Now, when I go to a museum, I make sure to look at the frames." Hearing that is the most rewarding part of my job. It feels like we're genuinely helping people see things in a new light.

This feedback loop also fuels my passion for the day-to-day work. It’s a powerful reminder that what I do matters and that my efforts are making a difference. It validates the path I've chosen and inspires me to double down, to keep refining my skills and pushing my craft to new heights.

And it’s working. Thanks to these efforts, we even had a young artisan join the Fuji Seigaku team this year. I'm more committed than ever to continue sharing the incredible world of frame making with others.