One Cloth, One of a Kind
I often say that I wear a one-of-a-kind costume.
That sounds simple.
But behind those words lies an extraordinary amount of time, patience, and craftsmanship.
This is the story of how that cloth came into being.
There is a costume I have loved and worn for the past several years.
It is, in the truest sense, one of a kind.
That is because the dyeing itself is done by hand using akane-zome — traditional madder dyeing — and the fabric is woven from threads that were dyed specifically for this piece.
“The akane-zome” was done by Ichiro Sugimoto of the Japan Akane Regeneration Organization, and the costume itself was created by Mika Gomyo.
Today, I would like to write about the act of weaving this cloth.
To put it simply, the threads are dyed first, and then several kinds of thread are woven together.
But behind that simple sentence lies an astonishing number of steps — at least astonishing to someone as clumsy as I am.
First comes the kind of work that is decidedly not suited to someone like me, who is not particularly good at planning: calculating the length and width of the warp threads. This requires deciding in advance the width, length, and degree of translucency the finished cloth should have.
1. Seikei — Preparing the Warp
Seikei refers to the process of preparing the warp threads and winding them onto the part of the loom that holds them.
It is one of the crucial steps that determines the quality of the woven fabric.
One must calculate the length to be woven — the necessary length plus the amount that will shrink once removed from the loom — as well as the extra length required for setting the threads on the loom. Then the number of warp threads must be calculated, again taking shrinkage into account.
For this fabric, three different kinds of thread were used for the warp. I was told that this prevents the finished cloth from becoming flat, giving it nuance and depth.
2. Dyeing
The prepared warp threads are then dyed.
In certain places, thread is wrapped around the warp to resist the dye. T The patterns created through this process are called kasuri, the Japanese form of ikat, in which threads are resist-dyed before weaving.
The weft threads are also dyed.
3. Setting the Threads on the Loom
Next, each warp thread is passed one by one through the osa, or reed, a part of the loom.
The reed keeps the density of the warp threads even and helps beat the weft threads straight into place. In other words, the reed determines the spacing between the threads.
After that, the warp threads are passed through the sōkō, or heddles. The heddles raise and lower the warp threads so that the weft can pass through.
If you have ever seen someone weaving while pressing pedals with their feet, the heddles are the part being moved at that moment.
4. Winding the Threads onto the Loom
The warp threads are wound onto the loom and stretched taut.
5. Winding the Weft Threads
Next, the weft threads are wound onto bobbins.
6. Weaving
At last, the process reaches the point of weaving.
But this is not the end. Rather, this is where the long, actual work of weaving begins.
A shuttle carrying the weft thread is passed between the warp threads. If you have seen a weaver moving something from side to side while operating the loom with pedals, that “something” is the shuttle.
When I say, “I had the fabric woven,” it may sound simple.
But behind that phrase are countless steps. And as I have written above, once the process reaches “6. Weaving,” the long work of actually weaving the cloth has only just begun.
Before each performance, I feel myself grow still with gratitude for this work.
Then, once the performance begins, I forget even that.
I sing. I dance.
And when I return home and put the costume away, I find myself bowing my head again.
May I be able to wear it many, many more times.
