Although I had heard we would set up from the afternoon,
I couldn't wait and showed up at the factory in the morning.

Looking outside I notice a tall kettle . . .

Inside the kettle can be sen Nasu mulberry bark, waiting for tomorrow's cooking.

It's ash from buckwheat husks.

This was buckwheat husk ash was made by an old grandmother who ran it through a sieve to make a very even, high quality ash.

It was purchased in 1987.

Now Jun Iwano makes a beeline for the hill out in back . . .

He has come to collect cedar needles, and since I'm here too, I also lend a hand . . .

So in effect he is trimming the cedar tree.

Now they are ready to change the setup of the factory

Normally Ichibei cooks the Nasu mulberry bark in soda ash. But for this batch of paper he wanted to use an absolute minimum of chemical agents, so he shall cook using buckwheat husk ash, which has an especially strongly alkalinity among ashes.

By the way, when cooking with buckwheat husk ash, the ratio of ash needs to be 60% of the dry weight of the mulberry.

In the case of soda ash, the ratio is 12%.
If caustic potash soda is used, the ratio is even less . . .

Hey, they are putting these into the tall kettle!

By the way, this tall kettle is an all stainless steel order-made item, purchased by Ichibei's father (who was the family's eighth-generation paper maker and also used the name Ichibei, and was also a living national treasure) about 40 years ago

Stay tuned . . .

At 8 AM, it is another day of good weather.

By the time I reached the kettle, the kettle was already at a boil.

The moment of truth is at hand !

And as soon as the hot water was put in, a bubbling cooking sound could be heard coming from inside the pot.

Let's twist the cock and check.

Okay, we're all ready !

Temporarily the boiling water needs to be removed from the kettle,

Finally the kettle is surrounded by firewood.

Okey-dokey, as the kettle has come to a boil,

In the morning they were already lightly cooked once, and this is how they look.

After the tall kettle has finished its job superbly, the ash has hardened.

And before the serious boiling begins . . .

Does it look delicious?

The view facing the hill behind the kettle hut.

Okay, the cooking process has been successfully

With the kettle covered as shown in the photo, the mulberry steeps for two hours.

Go to it, Jun !

The steeped mulberry bark is moved to a stainless tub . . . this to is a special-order item with an upraised bottom and designed to allow fluid that drains off to flow back into the kettle.

Hasn't is boiled up beautifully?

The working procedures are exactly the same even when regular soda ash is used.

Notice how the fibers separate.

Today is supposed to be a day for removing impurities from yesterday's cooked mulberry fiber

The whole family helps out -- the grandmother, Mrs. Iwano, Ichibei, and Jun. Even with all these people helping, the procedure takes several days.

Ichibei points out to me the difference in appearance between

mulberry cooked with soda ash (on the right, whitish) and
mulberry cooked with buckwheat husk ash (on the left, brownish).

"This is the way it was always done in the old days"
-- the implication being that we have every reason to expect that this paper will turn out every bit as white as in the old days . . .

It finally started to rain.

As shown here, water flowing through a gulley in the hill out in back is piped to the washing hut and water is pooled here.

These roots are washed for a full day in this running stream water.

This is a plant known as tororo-aoi (Abelmoschus manihot) and this is what they look like after being washed since yesterday.

Jun has started to pound on the roots with a wooden mallet.

This was a first for me -- I had never seen this before and had simply assumed that the "neri" was made using a machine of some sort. I wasn't anticipating scene like this.

Ichibei informs me that too-large roots are no good.

If the roots are too large, the skin on the roots splits open as soon as you start pounding with the wooden mallet, which apparently is not a good thing.

The entire length of each root is carefully pounded, all the way to the slender tips.

In this way, it is beaten flat.

However, beating it too much is not good either.

One more time, back into the running stream water for another wash.

And here is yet another type of "neri" -- made from bark . . .

"Neri" is always better when prepared after a little time has passed rather than using immediately after manipulation of the ingredients.

"Tororo-aoi is too sticky and the fibers don't expand. Using nori-utsugi gives fully expanded fibers that make the paper easier to scoop."

Here is the actual stream that I have been mentioning.

Water is piped from here to the work area.

The Echizen region does not have any really large mountains or streams, but it does have a profusion of springs.
By the way, I (Sugihara) have three water wells on my company's property.

Note how vigorously it bears fruit.

And now begins the loosening of the fiber in the bark.

We start by placing the mass of cooked inner bark, with all the particulate impurities removed, atop the work bench.

This work bench is made of zelkova wood, and a maple mallet is used to pound the mulberry bark.
I mention that I get the impression these fibers are softer than usual.

In this manner, all the mulberry bark is beaten by hand.
During beating, the material gradually spread out; this is gathered again into the middle, rotated, and then beaten again.

Here is how it looks when held up to the light.

After hand beating, the material is put into the "'naginata' beater."
This beater was first introduced in 1962 by the previous (8th generation) Ichibei Iwano (who was also designated a living national treasure).
The design originated with a Mr. Takahashi in KochiPrefecture.

However, they will never abdicate responsibility to a machine.
. . . Even in the middle of using the mechanical beater, they continually keep an eye on the material and note the passage of time, periodically checking the progress in separation of the fibers by hand, occasionally stopping the flow of water to make sure too much water does not get in . . . they are very careful to keep the fibers from shortening.

"How is that? -- beautifully separated fibers, are they not?"

"It went very well . . . "

The material from the beater is strained . . .

At the bottom of this blue container is a fine screen designed to allow the water to drain off.

Into the bucket it goes.

Meanwhile, Jun is already preparing for the next batch of papermaking. Before cooking the mulberry, it is necessary to remove as much dirt and other impurities as possible, which he is doing here.

By the way, the tororo-aoi beaten the other day at the washing hut has become really mucilaginous -- very tenacious slime.

Here is Ichibei's "naginata beater."

These look like sharp scimitar blades; but in fact they are not sharp at all.

These are used to separate the mulberry fibers from each other. They do not have the ability to cut the fibers.

For comparison, here is what the blades of a typical "naginata beater" look like.

Here Jun is in the midst of the climactic process for preparing the material for papermaking.

The fibers are repeatedly stirred by hand, to thoroughly wash the starch out of the mulberry fibers.

Every corner is repeatedly stirred by hand, filled with determination to thoroughly rinse every last fiber.

"So, what are you going to name this paper?" Jun answers, "Oh, I dunno . . . maybe 'amber ancient paper' . . . "

Before (below) and after (above) the "kamidashi" process

What a difference in color ! -- and all due to washing with water.

It's readily apparent what an important step this is.

*** Time for champagne and fireworks ! ***
Finally, the next stage is scooping the fiber solution.

It sure was a long road just to get this far . . .

Ichibei quipped, “Mr. Sugihara, by now you must know enough about papermaking to be able to make it yourself . . . "

If he sees any stray clump of fibers or any impurities, he immediately removes the offending matter with a needle.

The part o the paper that faces the bamboo-netted framed screen will become the bottom side of the paper. （At least, that's true in Mr. Iwano's case.）

Gradually the paper grows in thickness.

Splash, splash, splash . . . the p formsrepeated scooping creates a nimble rhythm.
Besides this sound, all is very quiet.

In Ichibei's case, the final scoo the front face of the paper. The surface contacting the bamboo-netted framed screen becomes the rear (bottom) face.
(By the way, this is also true of all "hosho" paper made by Mr. Hideo, Mr. Yamaguchi, Mr. Umeda, etc.)

(In contrast, "Torinokogami" made by Mr. Hirasaburo or Mr. Yanagise has the texture of the bamboo-netted framed screen applied as-is to the boards for drying. The reverse is the case when a "cloud texture" is deliberately sought.）

I'm advised that if I visit various papermakers, I should be sure to note whether they have two different bamboo-netted framed screens.
The use of two is an indication that the papermaker is paying that much more careful attention to the paper.

Ichibei quips, only partially in jest, "Paper doesn't sell like it used to . . . maybe I'll have to give up papermaking . . ."

With brisk motions, the mulberry fibers are formed into paper.

As can be seen in the photo, while scooping fiber, the other bamboo-netted framed screen is kept lying down flat.

Good morning !
This morning we are at the board house

One sheet at a time is carefully peeled from the "shitogami," which might be translated as "paper on the bed."

This time we had the paper made in one of the traditional Japanese standard paper size formats, the "kikuban" format measuring about 94 x 64 cm, so the boards used are also large.

Gingko trees are precious and unless they are large, boards must be joined, and of course the joints are noticeable in the paper.

In the past, large boards like this were dried outside in the sun . . . "Here, try picking up one of these . . . it's not easy carrying them outside."

Wow.
It is finished so nicely. Nice and fresh !

And it also has a lot of sheen

This work continued until sundown . . . and even after sundown.

Finally we have arrived at the day when all is finished safely.

It does indeed seem to be slightly thinner than the surroundings.

100 sheets were stamped on the back side with his seal bearing the Chinese characters for Ichibei Iwano.

Ichibei's pure washi, after crumpling to soften it, is used for wiping high-grade Japanese swords.

This is traditional Echizen "kisu" (unprocessed) Hosho paper.
Not even soda ash was used to make it -- only an alkaline solution made from buckwheat husk ash was used to cook the bark, which was then beaten . . . in all essentials it is the same process used in the old days !

A sheet of paper made by a living national treasure of Japan

"This paper is extremely soft.
Normally kaolin is added for softness, but this paper made by old-time methods without kaolin is so soft . . . I wonder why?"
The color too is just the plain, unadulterated color of the natural mulberry fibers

It has a wonderful luster.

And the softness after crumpling is indescribable.
With this finish, it seems hard to believe that it is paper.

This paper is 100% pure, and has no anti-stain finish added.

This sheet was crumpled wet after application of "konnyaku" starch.