[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":829},["ShallowReactive",2],{"menu:main":3,"post-the-lineage-of-kurashiki-en":34},{"items":4,"slug":32,"title":33},[5,15,23],{"_key":6,"_type":7,"label":8,"linkType":10,"page":11},"b32b8579b18c","menuItem",{"en":9,"ja":9},"Stories","internal",{"slug":12,"title":13},"stories",{"en":9,"ja":14},"Stories-jap",{"_key":16,"_type":7,"label":17,"linkType":10,"page":19},"872dc86f84e3",{"en":18,"ja":18},"About",{"slug":20,"title":21},"about",{"en":18,"ja":22},"私たちについて",{"_key":24,"_type":7,"externalUrl":25,"label":26,"linkType":10,"page":28},"6c666e1ef85c","https://shop.suki.com",{"en":27,"ja":27},"Collection",{"slug":29,"title":30},"collection",{"en":27,"ja":31},"Objects","main","Header",{"_createdAt":35,"_id":36,"_rev":37,"_system":38,"_type":41,"_updatedAt":42,"body":43,"craft":56,"credits":64,"excerpt":98,"featuredImage":100,"featuredItems":112,"heroImage":166,"language":153,"location":169,"orderRank":170,"previous":171,"productsTitle":182,"season":184,"slug":186,"storyBlock":187,"storyImages":806,"subtitle":825,"title":827},"2026-01-20T15:08:48Z","4546e1cb-28f5-4da1-9d8a-156deb289ffa","UTogOsPQSGGaSSP3NOnNf0",{"base":39},{"id":36,"rev":40},"mB5SX091O5zS0c2QtNf9tz","post","2026-06-15T07:05:32Z",{"en":44},[45],{"_key":46,"_type":47,"children":48,"markDefs":54,"style":55},"b825974139bb","block",[49],{"_key":50,"_type":51,"marks":52,"text":53},"55fc8fafec69","span",[],"Four centuries ago, Kurashiki rose from land wrested from the Seto Inland Sea. From the sand and soil came the alluvial plains which would, in time, become home to cotton and rush grass. From cotton came the thread, from thread the fabric, and from the fabric a woven ecosystem of manufacturing and folk craft, or mingei. In this first SUKI story, photographer and filmmaker Sybilla Patrizia discovers a city where tradition is quietly kept alive by craftspeople and curators building conditions for its survival. Through her lens, we're invited to ask: What does preservation look like, in action? 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Historically prized as a hue of nobility and passion, this crimson vase embodies the artisan’s soul. 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There's a heaviness to urban life that's at once dull and unnerving: the cold concrete, the harsh neons, the greasy smog, the thick heat of exhaust. There are flashes of color and softness, though. Places that brush against the texture of life—rough cobblestones, materials that once lived, the scent of old wood and moss. The quieter edges of Tokyo. Older neighborhoods where time seems to move differently.",[],{"_key":212,"_type":47,"children":213,"markDefs":218,"style":55},"a2442e2acdf1",[214],{"_key":215,"_type":51,"marks":216,"text":217},"4d9a85616b8d",[],"So when photographer and filmmaker Sybilla Patrizia told me SUKI's first story would be set in Kurashiki, I understood the pull immediately. A merchant town turned craft hub, where the relationship between maker and material hadn't been severed by industrialization. At its core was the same texture that emanated from the softer parts of urban areas.",[],{"_key":220,"_type":47,"children":221,"markDefs":226,"style":55},"b4703f11918b",[222],{"_key":223,"_type":51,"marks":224,"text":225},"524e65743d91",[],"But when Sybilla arrived on a Sunday morning in autumn, she found something more complicated. The preserved kura buildings, old shopfronts curtained in indigo noren, and incredible fragments of Japanese graphic design live on. Yet storefronts sell matcha lattes and canvas tote bags instead of daily goods. The canal, which once carried locally crafted goods, carries tourists instead. The narrow streets choke not with local life, but with visitors.",[],{"_key":228,"_type":47,"children":229,"markDefs":234,"style":55},"1436b07055fe",[230],{"_key":231,"_type":51,"marks":232,"text":233},"cc4a70f0ecfc",[],"By evening, sitting in an izakaya, a young local told her plainly: \"Every building you see is a tourist honey trap. Nothing here is for us anymore.\"",[],{"_key":236,"_type":47,"children":237,"markDefs":242,"style":55},"e5f077c53633",[238],{"_key":239,"_type":51,"marks":240,"text":241},"6400e2dd641d",[],"The words of the young local at the izakaya felt like a harsh mirror. I furnish my home with old wooden furniture, yet do not know the names of the trees each plank came from. I try to replicate, through objects, the intimacy of places like Kurashiki. I crave warmth yet don't want to feed the fire. I want the story without the reality, the aesthetic of craft without the labor, the inconvenience, the actual people doing the work. 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On a whim, she reached out. He answered. Thirty minutes later, he was there to pick her up.",[],{"_key":284,"_type":47,"children":285,"markDefs":290,"style":55},"689289d027b5",[286],{"_key":287,"_type":51,"marks":288,"text":289},"d1d4ff389b37",[],"The drive took half an hour through Kurashiki's rural outskirts to Chayamachi. By the time they arrived at his grandparents' house, the sun was setting. Light flooded the workshop—old wood, scattered tools, everything drenched in a ripe persimmon orange. It was the kind of spontaneous moment you can't plan for. Later, Sybilla would say it felt symbolic of Sunami-san himself: generous, unscripted, present.",[],{"_key":292,"_type":47,"children":293,"markDefs":298,"style":55},"adfdbadf12dd",[294],{"_key":295,"_type":51,"marks":296,"text":297},"3b24eb4e3b8c",[],"The workshop held decades of life. Unopened mail piled on tables. Pokemon stickers plastered on wooden columns. Doraemon and Miffy plush dolls peeking out of lacquered donabe pots. A football match on the telly. Rolls of igusa—rush grass—scattered across the floor.",[],{"_key":300,"_type":47,"children":301,"markDefs":306,"style":55},"af19273d131b",[302],{"_key":303,"_type":51,"marks":304,"text":305},"cb9935b71951",[],"Sunami-san shares the space with his grandmother, who continues to help weave the basket handles. Though she no longer makes full pieces herself, when she settled at her desk to show us her weaving, her hands still knew the rhythm. She'd never formally taught her grandson, she explained. He simply watched, and carried on what she too had inherited decades ago.",[],{"_key":308,"_type":47,"children":309,"markDefs":314,"style":55},"7e4fc025a85c",[310],{"_key":311,"_type":51,"marks":312,"text":313},"d15a2bf10055",[],"Sybilla and Sunami-san, as well as myself, come from a similar generation. Ours is a time of endless translations. We've learned to transmute our material world into the digital world, learning to curate, aestheticize and narrate our experiences vis-a-vis bits and bytes. Sunami-san's social media presence carries that generational impulse. But he's not using it to scale up. Engagement and reach aren't the point. He's rooted here, in his grandmother's workshop, making what he can sustain at the pace that makes sense. The modern tools are just tools. 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But what poured from every corner of his presence was a devotion to the people and history that brought him here. Without the salty soil of Kurashiki where his grandparents set up shop, the craft would not have reached Sunami-san's hands.",[],{"_key":356,"_type":47,"children":357,"markDefs":362,"style":55},"c3eaca3dc9e0",[358],{"_key":359,"_type":51,"marks":360,"text":361},"629ca628839b",[],"Looking at Sybilla's photographs later, I found myself in that gap once again. Yet the gap was not as hollow as I had initially imagined. Between the yearning and the engagement with reality is not a void, but layer after layer of story. Slice the gap and you find roots—grandmother's hands, salty soil, inherited gestures.",[],"right",[365,369],{"_key":366,"_type":194,"asset":367},"9f93c56212cc",{"_ref":368,"_type":60},"image-63bf5314e5c0913568fa710d858bfd612af1caed-1500x2000-jpg",{"_key":370,"_type":194,"asset":371},"4168cee3d6e2",{"_ref":372,"_type":60},"image-3cb0957a4d3883067bc517266c639d0da0fbfb44-1500x2000-jpg",{"_key":374,"_type":190,"block1":375,"block2":435,"imageLayout":55},"a8bd4f5bdbbc",{"_type":192,"blockImage":376,"blockOvertitle":381,"blocktitle":383,"body":385,"textColumns":315,"textPosition":244},{"_type":101,"alt":377,"asset":379},{"en":378},"Kurashiki 11",{"_ref":380,"_type":60},"image-751f58b1cf8c8d075c96ff9897c8e06469e43369-343x424-jpg",{"en":382},"Day two",{"en":384},"Succession and Lineage ",{"en":386},[387,395,403,411,419,427],{"_key":388,"_type":47,"children":389,"markDefs":394,"style":55},"485c8189d86f",[390],{"_key":391,"_type":51,"marks":392,"text":393},"dc6000d9f80a",[],"The next morning, Sybilla found herself at Marugo's tabi factory. The workshop was a different texture from Sunami-san's. More industrial than inherited, but with the same sense of decades living in every corner. Heavy machinery rumbled. The sharp scent of leather and machine oil hung in the air.",[],{"_key":396,"_type":47,"children":397,"markDefs":402,"style":55},"17a2e83de9d2",[398],{"_key":399,"_type":51,"marks":400,"text":401},"eeb58b0c899b",[],"Marugo, established in 1919, is one of the last tabi factories in Japan. These days, tabi has become ubiquitous with the split-toe shoes you might recognize from Maison Margiela's iconic boots. But the original is centuries old, worn by rickshaw pullers, construction workers, monks, and traditional performers.",[],{"_key":404,"_type":47,"children":405,"markDefs":410,"style":55},"c215bdfc8b87",[406],{"_key":407,"_type":51,"marks":408,"text":409},"b79beedbd170",[],"One of the veteran workers, Sasaki-san, waved Sybilla over to his workstation. He was shaving off the bottom of tabi as prep for the tsurikomi process later. It’s precise, repetitive work. Sasaki-san says he tucks a pair of earbuds under his noise-cancelling headphones to help pass the time.",[],{"_key":412,"_type":47,"children":413,"markDefs":418,"style":55},"77a59e2ce0bd",[414],{"_key":415,"_type":51,"marks":416,"text":417},"54ab157ddbdd",[],"She asked to see his playlist. Baby Metal, more Linkin Park, a mix of overseas and Japanese artists. All intense, all loud. Sybilla scrolled through and picked Evanescence’s \"Bring Me to Life.\" He laughed, nodded, and went back to work with the song playing.",[],{"_key":420,"_type":47,"children":421,"markDefs":426,"style":55},"b559dd8e1636",[422],{"_key":423,"_type":51,"marks":424,"text":425},"4bdb8665101d",[],"Across the room, Nawata-san demonstrated the tsurikomi process—stretching fabric around molds with such precise tension that no wrinkles formed. She's young, one of the workshop's finest hands. What struck Sybilla most was how everyone at Marugo talked about her. The older men spoke about Nawata-san with genuine reverence. Not just respect, but pride. To see a young woman being celebrated this way in a traditional Japanese crafts space felt rare. Encouraging, even.",[],{"_key":428,"_type":47,"children":429,"markDefs":434,"style":55},"76b7b48b0ecd",[430],{"_key":431,"_type":51,"marks":432,"text":433},"93628c16a422",[],"At Marugo, the succession question is still open. 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The kind that makes your throat stick when you swallow. The kiln burns so hot that Kotani-san often works at night, when most workshops have closed and the air finally cools.",[],{"_key":524,"_type":47,"children":525,"markDefs":530,"style":55},"267abbdf7fb5",[526],{"_key":527,"_type":51,"marks":528,"text":529},"47cbb39531c8",[],"Like Sunami-san, Kotani-san's workshop found him through lineage. His father founded Kurashiki Glass during the height of the mingei movement. Decades ago, he was in the same position as Sunami-san and Nawata-san—young, faced with a choice. 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In fact, he told Sybilla he took a summer break for the first time in his life this year. His dream: Venice with his wife, to see Murano glass in its birthplace. A pilgrimage he's been saving for, delaying for decades.",[],{"_key":554,"_type":47,"children":555,"markDefs":560,"style":55},"3b44f823c530",[556],{"_key":557,"_type":51,"marks":558,"text":559},"96fd7728e487",[],"But unlike Marugo or the Sunami family’s igusa workshop, Kotani-san has no apprentice. Without a successor, two generations worth of craftsmanship stands at risk of being lost.",[],{"_key":562,"_type":47,"children":563,"markDefs":568,"style":55},"0d38a9e2257b",[564],{"_key":565,"_type":51,"marks":566,"text":567},"acd0829fc570",[],"When Sybilla shared this reality with me, I remembered the words of the young local at the izakaya.",[],{"_key":570,"_type":47,"children":571,"markDefs":576,"style":55},"f130ad63f834",[572],{"_key":573,"_type":51,"marks":574,"text":575},"9eb954b74a4b",[],"“Nothing here is for us anymore.”",[],{"_key":578,"_type":47,"children":579,"markDefs":584,"style":55},"4396b5a2754e",[580],{"_key":581,"_type":51,"marks":582,"text":583},"44609f9946d0",[],"I wonder if, beneath his words, is another layer:",[],{"_key":586,"_type":47,"children":587,"markDefs":592,"style":55},"97e618d565e4",[588],{"_key":589,"_type":51,"marks":590,"text":591},"93577a17cd7a",[],"“We're still here. 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Bowls and pitchers materialize in minutes, each one shaped by his breath. Decades of learning how breath and glass speak to each other.",{"_key":645,"_type":190,"block1":646,"imageLayout":55},"0f6484b5a283",{"_type":192,"blockOvertitle":647,"blocktitle":649,"body":651,"textColumns":315,"textPosition":244},{"en":648},"Day three",{"en":650},"The curators",{"en":652},[653,661,669,677],{"_key":654,"_type":47,"children":655,"markDefs":660,"style":55},"afc91aa8c3dc",[656],{"_key":657,"_type":51,"marks":658,"text":659},"c18481e100e4",[],"The craftspeople need customers, apprentices, infrastructure, and community. They need a means to stay. Kishimoto-san of Omoto Denim and Rie-san of TOUTOU understand this.",[],{"_key":662,"_type":47,"children":663,"markDefs":668,"style":55},"efe8dbf76a36",[664],{"_key":665,"_type":51,"marks":666,"text":667},"941d8c1f676f",[],"Kishimoto-san from Omoto Denim has worked in the industry for decades. He's built a brand by working with the region's oldest, most skilled fabricators, prioritizing locally-centered, timeless manufacturing. Two of his longstanding partners are Kuroki and Shinya Mills.",[],{"_key":670,"_type":47,"children":671,"markDefs":676,"style":55},"0d5a2288f9a7",[672],{"_key":673,"_type":51,"marks":674,"text":675},"b8fecef0d8e8",[],"At Kuroki, texture fills every corner: raw denim stacked in massive bolts, endless rows of cotton threads taut across looms, everything dripping in indigo. Meanwhile, at Shinya Mills, Etsuko-san and her family work with vintage shuttle looms nearly half a century old. Her husband modified many by hand, tailoring them to weave the best possible denim.",[],{"_key":678,"_type":47,"children":679,"markDefs":684,"style":55},"dd143c3044ec",[680],{"_key":681,"_type":51,"marks":682,"text":683},"b18267f9c14a",[],"But these machines aren't being made anymore. To keep them running, they have to make use of parts from broken looms. Once these machines stop working, there’s no knowing whether this mill, like many others, can survive. It's said that Japanese denim mills run the risk of disappearing in the next decade.",[],{"_key":686,"_type":190,"block1":687,"imageLayout":501},"cb0a3ac3d7d5",{"_type":192,"body":688,"textColumns":315,"textPosition":244},{"en":689},[690,698,706,714,722],{"_key":691,"_type":47,"children":692,"markDefs":697,"style":55},"4a416b084be4",[693],{"_key":694,"_type":51,"marks":695,"text":696},"db3c62cb8bc4",[],"Sybilla’s photos of these factories reminded me of a project I had worked on years ago, with another denim brand from the Okayama Prefecture. This brand also worked in a similar manner to Kishimoto-san, prioritizing local partnerships and timeless manufacturing styles over convenience and efficiency. They chose succession through partnership, leveraging existing community connections in order to ignite a shrinking but valuable local industry. Kishimoto-san isn’t alone in this approach.",[],{"_key":699,"_type":47,"children":700,"markDefs":705,"style":55},"0f33fd5b95b2",[701],{"_key":702,"_type":51,"marks":703,"text":704},"51e0f606444d",[],"At TOUTOU Gallery, curator and organizer Rie-san has built a different network of her own. An Okayama-native herself, Rie-san has witnessed Kurashiki become splintered and replaced by asphalt and concrete, as countless historic buildings have been sold and demolished in the hands of developers.",[],{"_key":707,"_type":47,"children":708,"markDefs":713,"style":55},"a22d47cb9c64",[709],{"_key":710,"_type":51,"marks":711,"text":712},"c9986caf7709",[],"Through TOUTOU, Rie-san serves as a mediator between traditional craftspeople, property owners and visitors to Kurashiki. TOUTOU restores old machiya into galleries and guesthouses filled with furniture and ceramics made by local craftspeople.",[],{"_key":715,"_type":47,"children":716,"markDefs":721,"style":55},"825f7604eca8",[717],{"_key":718,"_type":51,"marks":719,"text":720},"a0bd92899a9d",[],"Rie-san’s work goes beyond simply displaying beautiful objects, instead nourishing a larger preservation ecosystem.",[],{"_key":723,"_type":47,"children":724,"markDefs":729,"style":55},"b6ef470a584e",[725],{"_key":726,"_type":51,"marks":727,"text":728},"ae1e92d21be9",[],"People like Kishimoto-san and Rie-san both understand that preservation needs infrastructure and people who are actively participating in it. For a manufacturing city like Kurashiki, the presence of cultural entrepreneurs and community are as important as young craftspeople in creating the conditions for things to continue.",[],{"_key":731,"_type":190,"block1":732,"block2":758,"imageLayout":55},"e648b72a0bad",{"_type":192,"blockImage":733,"blockOvertitle":736,"blocktitle":738,"body":740,"textColumns":243,"textPosition":244},{"_type":101,"asset":734},{"_ref":735,"_type":60},"image-99712a3702ad02345d946fd71b97e44932fa808b-561x693-jpg",{"en":737},"Conclusion",{"en":739},"The Fabric of Kurashiki",{"en":741},[742,750],{"_key":743,"_type":47,"children":744,"markDefs":749,"style":55},"9ca94ff5de05",[745],{"_key":746,"_type":51,"marks":747,"text":748},"9fb845fd8bac",[],"Looking at Sybilla's photographs, I kept noticing the hands. Sunami-san's grandmother’s hands, slower than they once were but still knowing the rhythm. The Marugo worker’s leather-stained fingers. Kotani-san's gloved hands twirling molten glass in the kiln. Hands everywhere, still working.",[],{"_key":751,"_type":47,"children":752,"markDefs":757,"style":55},"d786a3dafc93",[753],{"_key":754,"_type":51,"marks":755,"text":756},"6a3921b1f4c1",[],"I started thinking about the hands in my life. My hands, as they dip in and out of the nukadoko to pick out pickled vegetables. My grandmother’s hands stained a deep red from pickling plums and beets. The local greengrocer’s fingers, forever matted with dirt from the vegetables he lays out every morning. The cobbler’s leathery palm. All these hands in conversation with materials, with making, with people.",[],[759,765,771],{"_key":760,"_type":194,"alt":761,"asset":763},"339eca2e5ec3",{"en":762},"Kurashiki 21",{"_ref":764,"_type":60},"image-26b575cc934df4ea0991267031bcb34853b589f2-490x666-jpg",{"_key":766,"_type":194,"alt":767,"asset":769},"fe140c36dad8",{"en":768},"Kurashiki 22",{"_ref":770,"_type":60},"image-21a9eea8eddb39acb27e972e6afb78bd2c2d31a7-562x811-jpg",{"_key":772,"_type":194,"alt":773,"asset":775},"85d02f62bb67",{"en":774},"Kurashiki 23",{"_ref":776,"_type":60},"image-19d5c1a3e2c0cee6b5f065bce49a50b3c11b7a60-995x746-jpg",{"_key":778,"_type":190,"block1":779,"imageLayout":55},"a8b4c2385162",{"_type":192,"body":780,"textColumns":243,"textPosition":244},{"en":781},[782,790,798],{"_key":783,"_type":47,"children":784,"markDefs":789,"style":55},"bb83f77ea84e",[785],{"_key":786,"_type":51,"marks":787,"text":788},"a9912ccd8f97",[],"When we visit places like Kurashiki, we often see only what's been arranged for us. I did this too at first. Saw the surface, felt the yearning. But the craftspeople aren't there for visitors. They're there because the work needs hands. Because their community depends on what hands can make.",[],{"_key":791,"_type":47,"children":792,"markDefs":797,"style":55},"1274ecc55b3f",[793],{"_key":794,"_type":51,"marks":795,"text":796},"3977488d919b",[],"And in just continuing, they've created something many of us rarely encounter: a place where the connection between hands and materials lives on.",[],{"_key":799,"_type":47,"children":800,"markDefs":805,"style":55},"bb38847c8fe2",[801],{"_key":802,"_type":51,"marks":803,"text":804},"cbe5d2789b56",[],"From the mills to the kiln, Kurashiki shows what's possible when our hands keep moving.",[],[807,813,819],{"_key":808,"_type":101,"alt":809,"asset":811},"83d27540bf5c",{"en":810},"Kurashiki 02",{"_ref":812,"_type":60},"image-1f47b15026d608dbe11dbadc1fbd3fe6fa99faf2-1500x2000-jpg",{"_key":814,"_type":101,"alt":815,"asset":817},"8894115e774d",{"en":816},"Kurashiki 01",{"_ref":818,"_type":60},"image-715859deb3462e647d49debc6eea90a1a7d30c81-1500x2000-jpg",{"_key":820,"_type":101,"alt":821,"asset":823},"01ba2fb82b5e",{"en":822},"Kurashiki 04",{"_ref":824,"_type":60},"image-8c5923f7de06802a6bd9ea374881ea39288fc110-2667x2000-jpg",{"en":826},"Part 1",{"en":828},"Kurashiki",1781515275363]