The Miharu-Koma: Born from the Legend of a Wooden Horse

The origins of the Miharu-koma, one of Japan's three great "koma" (horse figurines), trace back over 1,000 years to the Heian period. It all began with a legend about the great general Sakanoue no Tamuramaro.

In the midst of battle, the cornered general was saved by a herd of 100 wooden horses that appeared out of nowhere. The legend says that a wooden horse charm he received as a protective amulet from Kiyomizu-dera Temple in Kyoto transformed into real horses to aid Tamuramaro.

This legend eventually spread, and the Miharu-koma, modeled after the shape of a horse, came to be made as a good luck charm for the healthy growth of children.

The Miharu domain, which once ruled this area, was home to many wild horses. During the Edo period, it prospered as a horse-breeding region, raising high-quality warhorses and farm horses.

Modeled after the strong and powerful horses of Miharu, the Miharu-koma was created as a lucky charm to wish for children's health and robust growth. It is also a form of prayer, kept close by people living in a harsh land, who wished for their children's development and family's happiness.

The black Miharu-koma is known as a "child-rearing horse," traditionally cherished as a charm for a child's healthy growth and fertility. The white Miharu-koma, on the other hand, is made to wish for longevity and protection from illness.

Takashiba Deko Yashiki: An Artisan Village Surviving in the Modern Era

Miharu-koma are born in "Takashiba Deko Yashiki," located in the Nishita-machi area of present-day Koriyama City. For over 300 years, since the Edo period, the culture of doll-making—including Miharu Hariko (papier-mâché) and Miharu-koma—has been preserved here without interruption. A village where families make their living from doll-making is a rarity in Japan. Today, four workshops remain, each continuing their craft.

"Deko" is written with the kanji for "puppet" (木偶, deku) and refers to a wooden doll. The reason doll-making began in this area is said to be deeply connected to the realities of daily life.

"To put it simply, people started making them because this land was poor. This is a rural area far from town, and the land was so harsh that we couldn't survive on agriculture alone. So, they started making dolls as a side business during the winter off-season. That's how it all began."

In this land that was anything but prosperous, doll-making began as a way to support families. What started as work to sustain a livelihood eventually intertwined with local culture, evolving into a folk craft that represents the entire region.

The Appeal of Raw Power: Crafted Only with Straight Lines

Among the four workshops, Hikoji Mingei is now the only one that continues to produce Miharu-koma using the traditional method of carving each one by hand from a block of wood. The artisan, Murakoshi, entered this profession at the age of 16 and has been carving them ever since.

"Achieving perfect symmetry is still difficult. Even after 50 years, there are days it goes well and days it doesn't. You can't do it right if you're feeling frustrated. The material, magnolia wood, has soft and hard spots, and the grain is different in every piece, so I have to be very careful about how much force I apply."

The form of the Miharu-koma is distinctive. It has no rounded curves; instead, it's composed of powerful, rugged straight lines and flat planes, as if hewn with a hatchet. Even the parts that appear round are, in fact, an illusion created by combining straight lines. This rustic yet powerful figure is somehow reminiscent of the spirit of this land, once famous as a producer of fine horses.

Underlying its form is a striking contrast between "stillness" and "motion." The wooden base itself has a stable, solid shape, as if firmly rooted in the earth—a form of "stillness." However, when the brush touches the wood, a dynamic life force is breathed into it, creating "motion."

"The pattern on the legs is especially important. You have to express the momentum of the horse about to leap forward, right there on its front legs. I paint it to look like it's digging in its hooves, ready to burst ahead. That's the most difficult part."

The Honest Pursuit of Constant Improvement

Daisuke Hashimoto, the 11th-generation head of the family, once worked for a television production company before returning in 2010 to take over the family business. Growing up, he had zero interest in the craft, so he essentially had to start from scratch when it came to making Miharu-goma.

As he began his training, Daisuke took to heart the teachings of his father, Takanobu, on what it truly means to be a craftsman.

"He told me, 'We aren't artists; we're craftsmen.' Instead of trying to paint something magnificent, he said to always wield the brush with a drive to improve, ensuring the second piece is better than the first. He mentioned that even for him, it took 30 years—until after he turned 60—before he felt confident in the items he presented to customers. But even then, he's never satisfied and is always pushing to create something better than the day before. I learned that this dedication to incremental progress is the true path of a craftsman."

The history of Miharu-goma making has been far from smooth. During World War II, the wood needed for the dolls was burned for fuel, and many of the original wooden molds were lost. It was a time when the flame of this cultural tradition was nearly extinguished.

"Despite this, our workshop was one of the first to get back on its feet after the war. My great-grandmother would apparently load the finished products into a basket on her back and travel to sell them in the Aizu region and even outside the prefecture."

This post-war revival wasn't fueled by the craftsmen's tenacity alone. It was also made possible by collectors who cherished the Miharu-goma and papier-mâché dolls, and by others who believed in the value of folk art and had carefully preserved original pieces. Using these surviving items as a guide, new wooden molds were created, and the Miharu-goma were brought back to life.

"I always focus on creating high-quality pieces that bring joy to our customers. The very fact that this craft has survived is proof that people recognize its value. If we were making shoddy products, they would have been tossed aside long ago."