From Consumption Area in Edo to the Material Supply Area in Boshu: Craftsmen Migrate & Form a Major Production Center

First, could you tell us about the characteristics of the Boshu uchiwa produced by your company?

The Boshu uchiwa made from a single round bamboo piece from the handle to the face, features a soft breeze created by the bamboo's flexibility. The round handle is easy to grip and has a warmth to it, gaining character the more it's used. I believe it can also provide emotional enjoyment just by being displayed.
Our workshop employs techniques passed down since my great-grandfather's time, producing everything from the traditional washi-paper covered uchiwa to those covered with yukata fabric and chirimen. Recently, we've even created uchiwa adorned with cut paper. Each piece is unique, varying in character due to the natural materials of bamboo and the patterns or materials used on the surface.  

So why did uchiwa making flourish in Boshu uchiwa (the area stretching over present-day southern Minamiboso City and Tateyama in Chiba Prefecture)?

During the Edo period, making uchiwa and umbrellas was a side job for samurai. Even when the production of ukiyo-e was banned due to luxury prohibitions, only the ukiyo-e used for uchiwa was permitted. This was because taking that away would leave samurai without a means of livelihood.
The area corresponding to present Tateyama was a source of high-quality Simon bamboo (about 1.5 cm thick and slender) and served as a production area for Edo uchiwa. After the Great Kanto Earthquake and the war, many wholesalers and craftsmen migrated to Boshu, leading to the spread of uchiwa production here.
Farmers would cut bamboo during the farming off-season after the rice harvest, and since this area has a long history as a fishing town, it developed into a major production area, also involving the fishing wives during times when they could not go out to fish.

Please tell us about the journey from the establishment to the present.

Until my grandfather's time, we were making Edo uchiwa (a type of fan produced in Edo, both for practical use and as art since the Edo period) in Yanaka, Taito Ward, Tokyo. After the war, when my father was in his twenties, our family moved to present-day Minamiboso City.
At that time, it was still an era without cars, so we would ride bicycles for over an hour one way to buy bamboo, starting from finding someone to cut it. We had to teach that person how to cut the bamboo, and they would cut it from the mountains for us. It's tough for any new business venture, especially for the first generation.
At the beginning, we weren't selling directly to individuals but were making fans from orders placed by wholesalers from Tokyo. That’s why when I started helping my parents, even local people often said, "I didn't know there was a place making fans in Chiba Prefecture."

What prompted you to join the family business?

I am the youngest of three sisters, and we were all raised with our father saying, "You don't have to take over; you can do what you enjoy." When I was in my twenties and raising my children, I thought, "Maybe I should help make fans until my daughter is independent," and that was the start of my involvement.
My father was usually strict about lifestyle habits. We had to sit seiza (a traditional Japanese sitting posture) during meals, and we weren't allowed to take chopsticks to food we couldn't finish. However, I was never scolded about work. So I believe that’s why I never grew to dislike making fans.
Reflecting back now that my father has passed away, I think I wasn't scolded because there were no expectations of me. Therefore, when I teach children about making fans, I often say, "When your parents or teachers scold you, it’s because they have expectations of you."

When did you start to consciously consider taking over the business?

Once I started helping my father, ten years flew by, and it was when we received the designation as a traditional craft producer from Chiba Prefecture. That’s when I first thought, "Am I going to take over?" and realized that I had to take this seriously. My mindset shifted at that point.
As my parents aged, I gradually began to feel the weight of the work shifting onto my shoulders, and I became more conscious of eventually taking over.

21 Processes Starting from a Single Piece of Round Bamboo

I’ve heard that there are more processes than other regions' fans. Can you explain the process of making a single fan?

Boshu uchiwa is crafted through 21 processes, most of which are done by hand.
It begins with selecting the bamboo as the material. Since it's a natural product, not all bamboo is straight; there are bends, twists, worm-eaten spots, and damage, so we sort them into those suitable for product use and those that aren't, also selecting bamboo based on the size of the fan.
Speaking of distinctive processes, first, we split the bamboo into 48 to 64 pieces while leaving the handle section intact. This is the "splitting bamboo" process that creates the fan's ribs. If the pieces aren't split to the same thickness and width, we can't achieve a beautiful fan. As a child, I remember seeing many split bamboo fans lined up in alleys or under eaves while I played with my friends, and there were lots of fans with paper pasted on them hanging inside the house.
The process considered the most difficult by those who begin making fans is the 'braiding bamboo' process, where the ribs are woven with thread. We take the ribs alternately and weave them into a circular bamboo frame, shaping it into a flat fan.
After that, we insert a component called "yumi" (also meaning "bow" as in "bow and arrow") at the top of the handle to spread the fan's ribs and tie threads at both ends of the yumi. By applying a template and adjusting the curves created by the thread, we create the characteristic three-dimensional "windows" of Boshu uchiwa. Since applying too much pressure can split the bamboo, each step requires meticulous care and a keen sense of touch. It’s what you’d refer to as "doing it right."

When is the peak production time of the year?

The peak shipping time is from June to early July. During the winter, we cut and prepare the bamboo to rib stage and store it, slowly using that stock, but when it gets busy, we can run out of ribs entirely.

How many workshops are currently producing Boshu uchiwa?

Currently, there are three workshops, but ours is the only one that specializes in fan-making. At the peak, there were about 50 workshops. It seems that in the early Showa period, approximately 8 million fans were produced annually. Currently, the production volume is about one-tenth of that.

What do you think are the reasons for the decrease in workshops and production volume?

The emergence of electric fans and air conditioners, leading to a decline in the use of fans, has likely greatly reduced the demand. On the workshop side, many individuals who made fans have passed away due to old age, and there are almost no successors, resulting in the closure of many workshops.

Have there been any memorable interactions with customers while continuing the production of fans?

Fortunately, there are people who come and say, "I want to support traditional crafts," and they occasionally place orders or suggest, "How about creating something like this next time?" These connections between people are quite stimulating.
The fans hanging from the ceiling were born from a recent encounter with a designer. One side features a cut-paper design on washi, and the other side is made from yukata fabric, allowing the yukata's fabric to gently show through the cut-paper section.
The cut-paper work involves my son-in-law, who is good at computer-related tasks, assisting with production using a laser cutter. When I consult him with, "How about this pattern?," he responds with detailed observations like, "Mom, wouldn’t it be difficult to stick this part to the frame if you cut it out?" His attention to such details is helpful. We're actually discussing having a meeting with my husband, daughter, and son-in-law soon.
Although I’m the only one making fans in this workshop, I truly enjoy the process of creating fans with the involvement of various people.

Connecting the Skills to Be Able to Make Fans from Start to Finish

Otaya also conducts fan-making experience classes, right?

Yes. The fan-making experience in the classroom on the workshop premises is led by my husband. When I could no longer manage, we often received inquiries asking, "Can we experience making fans?" and my husband kindly offered, "Then I can do it."   
The age range of participants in the experience is quite broad. Many come with their children or grandchildren, and just the other day, a group of customers from America visited us as well.
Additionally, I have been invited as an instructor to teach groups of children who come for study stays at nearby facilities about once or twice a week.

This presents a great opportunity for children, as well as the teachers and parents, to get to know Boshu uchiwa. What does the Boshu uchiwa mean to you, Ota?

For me, making fans is both a family business and a trade. I create products that sell, things that customers desire. However, being able to create something with my own hands is enjoyable in any job.
It's easy to quit anything; however, since I choose to continue, I want to avoid any regrets. As long as I keep enjoying fan-making as I have until now, there may be new encounters and opportunities to create something new at some point. I am hopeful about that.

Boshu uchiwa were designated as national traditional crafts in 2003. Although the demand for them as daily necessities has decreased, I feel that new charm and value are being born as crafts. There are challenges such as the aging of artisans and the lack of successors, but what is necessary to continue this tradition in the future?

In the last ten years, there has been a regional successor training project, and out of those who have learned fan-making there, five have reached the point of being able to sell their works. Some aspire to make a living from fan-making, and others have started their own workshops where they sell fans they've made.
This project will continue, and I believe more and more people will become involved in fan-making going forward. Even if Otaya were to disappear in the future, the skills will remain. I’m not worried because the skills have already been passed on.

What do you keep in mind regarding successor training?

I want everyone aspiring to be artisans to be able to handle the entire fan-making process. In the past, there were many craftsmen who could work in specialized roles, so the workshop owner's tasks merely involved packing and writing invoices, but that's no longer the case.
When those just starting to learn about fan-making ask, "How many years does it take to become an artisan?" I reply, "It's not about the number of years; just make as many as you can."
I often joke, "I’m cultivating my competitors," but without new young people coming in, the industry won’t thrive. It’s okay if they don’t know anything at first. As long as motivated individuals enter, the industry will gain vigor. I believe that’s how traditions can be continued.