Breathing Life into Paper: Daruma Born from Recycled Materials

At the entrance of the workshop stood a large, unpainted daruma. Its white, dry form resembled a vessel waiting to be brought to life.

"This paper was originally used for trays at a mayonnaise factory," Shimizu explains, holding the material in his hand.

Over a decade ago, following an avian flu outbreak, paper used in food factories was mandated to be discarded after a single use. For sanitary reasons, this paper had nowhere to go, so daruma artisans began repurposing it as a new material.

Previously, the main material was domestic recycled paper from sources like manju boxes and candy packaging. However, as these resources began to flow overseas, domestic recycled paper became harder to obtain. It was during this time that they discovered this new material.

"Thankfully, it was right when we were running short on paper. The quality was smooth and well-suited for molding daruma," he says.

However, the paper fibers are a bit too weak to be used on their own. Shimizu creates the ideal texture by blending it with traditional recycled paper.

"If you only use strong paper, the surface becomes rough, but if you only use weak paper, the shape won't hold. By skillfully mixing both, you bring out the best qualities of each."

He tears the paper by hand, soaks it in water, and feels the texture of the fibers with his fingertips. The slightest difference affects the final product, so the blend ratio is adjusted daily based on temperature and humidity. It's a world of sensation that can't be measured by numbers—the true realm of an artisan.

Shaped by Water and Time: The Art of Molding

He submerges the dissolved paper into a mold, shaping it with suction.

"If the thickness isn't uniform, the face will be distorted when it's painted later. The timing of the submersion is everything," he notes.

Slight changes in the submersion time or suction strength alter both the thickness and durability. The judgment isn't based on precise numbers like a machine, but on the "feeling in his fingertips." This difference is reflected in the final finish.

The daruma is still damp after molding, and the next step requires careful attention. The dolls are lined up on shelves and left to dry slowly with the help of air and time.

"They won't dry if the weather is bad. I check the forecast every day to decide the order of my work."

If it rains for several days, moisture can get trapped inside, sometimes causing the shape to warp. Working in harmony with nature is both a challenge and a joy of this craft.

Once dry, a cloth base is attached to the daruma, followed by priming, a coat of red paint, and then 'mensō' (face painting). Shimizu says,

"If the initial molding isn't done well, it won't turn out right, no matter how beautifully you paint it. The beginning is everything."

A Couple's Craft: The Story of the Inherited Daruma Face

"My wife paints these whiskers," Shimizu says, presenting a daruma. Its face is both dignified and gentle. Fine, delicate lines overlap, breathing life into its expression.

"For Takasaki daruma, the shape of the whiskers is different for each workshop. Fellow artisans can look at a face and know right away, 'That's a daruma from such-and-such place.'"

His wife's whisker-painting skills are highly respected even by other artisans in the trade.

"There's no blueprint. Each generation of artisans has made subtle changes to match the times.

It may look similar, but the face of the fifth generation has a modern sensibility."

The couple divides the roles, supporting each other. Shimizu handles the molding, painting, and gold finishing, while his wife paints the whiskers and perfects the expression.

"Making daruma is our work, but it's also our life. They are only complete thanks to both of our hands."

Carrying on Tradition: The Bonds of Artisans and the Power of Community

While Takasaki City is home to about 40 daruma workshops, only a handful manage the entire process from crafting the base material to applying the final finish.

"It's a tough job to do everything from scratch, but I feel a strong need to see the process through to the very end with my own eyes."

This commitment to overseeing every step is how Shimizu maintains his standards of quality and responsibility.

The local artisans share a relationship of friendly rivalry and mutual support.

"When materials become scarce, we share information among ourselves. We'll let each other know if a certain paint has been discontinued or if we've found a suitable substitute. If we don't help each other out, the entire industry can't survive."

The youth division of the Daruma Makers' Association takes the lead, organizing workshop tours and training sessions, pouring their energy into passing the craft on to the next generation.

"Everyone is really cooperative. As fellow craftspeople from Takasaki, we all share a common goal: 'to preserve and create something of great quality.'"

Thanks to the support of the local government, the streets are painted a vibrant sea of red during the annual New Year's Takasaki Daruma Market.

This community-wide dedication is the reason why people say, "When you think of Takasaki, you think of daruma dolls."

Giving Form to New Wishes: The Birth of the Ichiryu Manbai Daruma

While dedicated to preserving tradition, Shimizu is also eager to embrace new challenges. One of his recent creations is the "Ichiryu Manbai Daruma." Its brilliant golden body symbolizes prosperity and growth.

"It comes from the proverb, 'a single grain of seed grows into ten thousand,' which deeply resonates with the wishes people entrust to their daruma dolls."

He uses a custom-ordered gold paint, aiming for a soft, elegant sheen rather than a harsh glare.

"Standard gold paint can be too overpowering. It took many attempts, but I finally achieved a shade I'm happy with."

This creation has garnered attention both at home and abroad and is especially popular with international visitors.

"One day, I want to open a specialty daruma shop abroad. It would make me so happy if people around the world could learn about daruma dolls as a part of Japan's culture of good fortune."

Dissolving paper, molding it with water, and breathing life into it with a brush—through this series of graceful movements, Shimizu once again imbues each doll with a wish. A daruma is more than just a good-luck charm; it is a vessel for prayer, connecting people to one another and the past to the future.

"At first, I just saw it as a job. But now, it's become my entire life.Whenever I look at something, I can't help but see it through the lens of a daruma doll."

In the quiet workshop, the sound of drying paper and the faint rustle of a brush fill the air. And with each sound, a new wish takes form.