The Light of Prayer: The Culture of Yame Chochin

The origins of Yame Chochin date back to the Edo period. A frame is made by spirally winding bamboo strips, which is then covered with washi paper and painted with intricate designs. When lit from within, the light filters through the paper, casting subtle shadows and making the painted images appear three-dimensional.

The central part is called the 'hibukuro' (fire bag). It's more than just a shade; it's a device that combines light and art to evoke a sense of the unseen.

Bon-chochin (Bon festival lanterns) have been placed in Japanese homes as a light to welcome the spirits of ancestors. Hung near entrances or family altars, they serve as a beacon for returning souls. They embody a sense of gratitude and respect for the deceased.

"I believe they represent the grateful heart of the Japanese people."

says Irie, the second-generation owner of Shiraki Kougei.

Even with the spread of electricity and changes in lifestyles, the meaning of this light of prayer has not faded. Before being a simple lighting fixture, a chochin is a light that brings peace to the soul.

A New Path: The Second-Generation Owner's Resolve

Irie's roots were not in lantern making, but in agriculture. His father worked for a lantern company, but he says he was never told to take over the business.

When asked why he took over the family business at 25, he laughs a little sheepishly.

"Because it looked profitable!"

Behind his jest, however, lies a deep sense of commitment.

Thirty years ago, it was an era where anything you made would sell. However, as homes became smaller and family altars more compact, the demand for Bon festival lanterns gradually declined. The number of outsourced artisans dwindled from 150 to about 20.

He realized that relying solely on a division of labor would stifle new challenges.

In his 30s, Irie made the decisive move to bring production in-house. He built a workshop, hired young talent, and entrusted the space to them, saying, "Use it as you see fit."

It was a bold gamble. But to preserve tradition, he knew he first had to change.

A Workshop Attracting Young Artisans

Today, the workshop attracts young people from outside the prefecture, including from as far as Miyazaki and Okinawa. The core group consists of female artisans in their 20s and 30s.

So, why does it attract the younger generation?

Irie laughs and says, "I haven't done anything special," but there is a distinct atmosphere in the workshop. Here, the individuality of each artisan is respected.

The painting work is assigned based on client requests. Although they are salaried, their workload won't increase unless customers choose their work. This creates a quiet, motivating tension.

The designs are painted directly onto the curved surface of the washi paper. Dynamic lines bring the images to life.

"The simpler the design, the harder it is. The lines are everything,"

a young artisan explains. She says her hands tremble when she has to repaint the work of a master from decades ago for a restoration project.

But that pressure is what hones their skills.

By bringing production in-house, they established a system where everything from frame-making to papering and painting is done by their own team. Ideas that would never have emerged when relying on outsourcing now arise organically from within the workshop.

Young sensibilities and traditional techniques breathe in the same space.

Beyond Bon Festival Lanterns

As lifestyles change, so do the forms of light.

Traditional Bon festival lanterns are large and often don't fit well in modern homes. "'Cute' lanterns just didn't exist," Irie recalls.

This led to the creation of the mini-lantern series, "cocoran." These smaller lights, with motifs of the four seasons, can be placed on shelves or windowsills. While still a symbol of prayer, they blend into daily life as interior decor.

Leveraging the techniques of Bon-chochin, they are creating lights that complement new ways of living.

They also have plans for proposals to the hotel industry and overseas expansion. But Irie says, "I have the desire to go global, but I don't want to overextend."

Traditional industries have a deep connection with their local community. Rapid expansion could disrupt that balance.

They will evolve. But they cherish the importance of staying grounded.

This careful approach is also rooted in the unhurried pace of life in Yame.

Carrying Light into the Future, on Yame Time

In Yame, time flows at a different pace than it does in the city. There's a local sense of ease—no rushing, no resisting, just a laid-back acceptance of things, a feeling captured by the local expression 'yoka-yoka,' meaning 'it's all good.'

It's within this unhurried flow of time that the tradition of chōchin lanterns has been passed down.

Things made by hand have a soul. They possess a subtle, living quality that mass production can never replicate.

The lines drawn by the young artisans are each unique. Irie doesn't force them into a mold. His stance—'Feel free to do it your way'—remains unchanged.

While preserving the light of prayer, they create new forms of light. Tradition isn't about fixing a form in place; it's about allowing it to change and evolve without losing its core meaning.