From Garments That Have Completed Their Role──To Forms That Carry Time Forward

Kimono textiles often outlive us. Within them are condensed layers of aesthetic sensibilities from different eras, refined dyeing and weaving techniques, and the care embedded in handwork.

Yet today, many of these garments are no longer worn. Though they may appear preserved, they are in fact removed from use, quietly fading from the flow of people’s lives.

This state feels too static, too incomplete to be called true preservation.

Why must such beauty and craftsmanship come to an end as “things of the past”?
Why do they become untouchable, unseen, and no longer spoken of?

My work begins with these questions. It is an attempt to redefine kimono not as garments, but as materials that can be restructured into art - forms that continue to exist beyond time.

Encountering the Time Embedded in Textiles

We live in a world that moves quickly. Newness is valued, while older things quietly lose their roles. Yet textiles retain the warmth of hands, traces of daily life, and memories that were never put into words.

I grew up in an environment where things were not easily available. Food, clothing, tools - everything was used until worn out. When something tore, it was repaired; when it could no longer be cleaned, it became a rag; even what decayed was returned to the earth to nourish new life.

Nothing was wasted. It could not be wasted.

For this reason, upcycling is not a decorative concept for me. It is a way of recognizing that something is “not yet finished.”

When we place too much emphasis on having more or moving faster, we gradually lose a sense of space within ourselves. Losing that space can become a quiet form of hardship.

That is why I believe it is important, at times, to pause - and remember what is enough.

I hope my works are not statements, but presences that quietly enter daily life, allowing one to pause and breathe.

Encounter with Kimono──The Strength of Japanese Aesthetics

I was not born or raised in Japan. Perhaps because of this, I have been able to approach Japanese culture without taking it for granted.

My first deep encounter with antique kimonos was in my Japanese mother-in-law’s home. Inside an antique wood chest were dozens of kimonos, carefully stored yet untouched for decades.

As I unfolded them one by one, I was struck by their beauty - and by the extraordinary craftsmanship of hand-painted designs and embroidery.

My first thought was: Shouldn’t these be displayed in a museum?

But she told me that this was not unusual - that similar textiles are preserved in many households across Japan.

To me, they were not simply garments, but concentrated forms of beauty: color, composition, motifs, negative space, symbolic meanings, and the stories carried through use. All of it contained thought. All of it held time.

These kimonos carry beauty, narrative, and technique - yet today, they are not translated into forms that people may want to possess.

That is why I chose not “preservation,” but “transformation,” and began ikasu.

The Philosophy of ikasu

The name ikasu means “to bring to life.” It is not simply about reusing materials, but about connecting past memories to the present and reconstructing them for the future.

In the process, each kimono is carefully taken apart and reconsidered piece by piece before being reassembled. Fabrics from different eras and different owners meet within a single work.

I try to imagine the time each textile has lived through. When possible, I listen to the stories of previous owners - how the kimono was used and loved, and what emotions it carried.

I also visit weaving and dyeing craftsmanships and workshops to understand the techniques and intentions of the original makers, approaching kimono not merely as materials, but as vessels of context.

In addition to kimono textiles, I incorporate materials such as reclaimed wood from traditional antique chests for keeping kimono, gold leaf, washi paper, and acrylic. The “kiritansu” chests wood, which once protected the kimono, plays an essential role in embedding its time into the work.

By layering materials from different periods, I aim to make the strata of time visible.

Meaning, Symbolism, and Personal Narrative

Each work is composed by carefully layering symbolic meanings and the personal narratives of the recipient.

For example, pine represents longevity and prosperity; cranes symbolize long life and auspiciousness; plum blossoms embody resilience; and folding fans suggest expansion toward the future.

Rather than simply selecting beautiful patterns, I consider the time each motif carries - and the meanings it may hold moving forward.

Carrying Personal Memory Through Art

In addition to creating original works, I also reconstruct pieces from kimono owned by individuals.

Receiving a kimono that holds family memory and transforming it is not about creating something new, but about giving memory another form.

For instance, a furisode worn at a wedding can become a series of artworks shared within a family; a grandmother’s kimono can be transformed and passed down to grandchildren.

These works do not preserve the past - they continue to exist alongside future time. By giving memory a form that can be shared, they become part of family continuity.

Art That Lives Into the Future

For me, a work is not complete at its creation - it is where a new time begins.

A kimono cherished by one person takes on a new form and continues its life with someone else. I hope to create such cycles as much as I can.

I once received a commission from the United States: a furisode purchased during a trip to Japan, which had remained unworn for years. It was sent back to Japan, reconstructed into a new form, and then returned to New York.

This was not simply a remake - it was a process of continuity across time and place.

A work does not need to pass through many hands. If it reaches someone who truly values it, it will continue to live within that person’s time, eventually passing on to the next generation.

I hope that those who live with ikasu works can feel the flow of time within them, connect it with their own experiences, and carry it forward - quietly, into the future.