I am walking uphill in one of Tokyo’s residential suburbs. It’s my last day of a six week sojourn around Japan, and I am as far as I can get from the Tokyo hotspots of Shibuya and Shinjuku and still be within the greater Tokyo Metropolitan area.
I am looking for a very specialized museum, well off the typical tourist beaten path, but despite walking up and down the sidewalk, I don’t see it. My Google maps app has reliably brought me to the appropriate subway station, but now it says that my goal should be right here. Yet it continues to elude me.
Finally, I switch to the Google translate app and use it to ask two construction workers doing road work “where is this” pointing to the Japanese script for my desired target. With a slight smile, one of them points politely to the building behind me.
Really? Then I see the small sign on the entrance pillar supporting the gate. Yes, this is what I was looking for, though it looks more like a private home than what I think a museum should look like.
I walk slowly through the small, landscaped courtyard to the wooden door and hesitantly ring the doorbell. A minute later, an elderly Japanese women peeks around the doorframe. I am still wondering if this is the right place or if I’ve just disturbed someone in their home.
“Temari Museum?” I ask in English. She nods, and opens the door wider to let me in. The foyer does not look anything like a museum should. Large shelves on one wall hold cardboard boxes with a variety of threads in a rainbow of colors. Another wall has an open window into my hostesses’ office.
Then, in the corner I see a curio cabinet displaying a variety of Temari balls, all with price tags. Some are in the hundreds of dollars, while others are quite a bit less, more in my price range. I finally feel reassured that I have come to the right place.
Temari balls – form with little function
Architect Louis Sullivan said “form follows function”.
Yet in Japan, form is often valued without function. The even ridges of a raked gravel garden bed, the balance of an Ikebana floral arrangement, or the perfect shape of a miniature maple bonsai tree are only a few examples of the Japanese love for beautiful esthetics.
This dedication to creating beauty is one of the many reasons I love visiting Japan. Whether it’s something as simple as wrapping a gift or plating a dish, the presentation is always front and center. After four visits to Japan, it is this persistent attention to the details that continues to fascinate me.
Because in Japan, form can exist on its own, but function without form does not.
On this tour around Japan, I decided to experience the country’s creative side by taking a variety of textile related classes. I am a quilter but other crafts that work with fabric and thread also interest me, and Japan has a rich tradition with textile crafts.
From weaving classes in Osaka and Kyoto, to shibori dying in Tokyo and Kyoto, to learning sashiko embroidery techniques outside of Tokyo, I found a broad variety of opportunities to learn a little about Japan’s many creative textile traditions.
But learning how to make a Japanese Temari ball was definitely one of the most unique classes I tried.
Could I learn to make my own Temari ball?
As with many Japanese crafts, Temari balls are all about form. Their colorful, intricate, geometric designs create complex patterns that would make even architect Buckminster Fuller scratch his head and wonder “how did they do that?” (he invented the geodesic dome).
I came across the Temari sewing class while searching for things to do in Osaka. I met my instructor in the back of a restaurant located in one of the local hotels. Mika, a beautiful woman in her 30’s, started my two hour session with a short history of Temari balls.
In Japanese, Temari literally means hand (te) ball (mari). This term first appeared in 12th century Japanese books, but it was 400 years later that drawings showing Temari balls as we know them today appeared more commonly in print.
It seems that by the Edo period of the 17th century, making and playing with Temari became the domain of girls and women. Over time, it became a tradition in some regions to gift temari to young girls when they were 13 or to give them as a gift to a bride to symbolize the wish for a happy home.
However, as with many of the traditional Japanese handicrafts, making and playing with Temari has lost its popularity in today’s techy world. Mika was trying to change that, one Temari ball at a time.
Mika fell in love with the art when she took her first temari class a few years ago. Her instructor and mentor is in her 80’s, so not much time left to impart a lifetime of skills and wisdom. Mika passes on her knowledge through the classes she now gives to Japanese and tourists alike. She also travels the world giving presentations and demonstrations of this uniquely Japanese art form.
For the next two hours, Mika patiently took me through the steps to create a very basic chrysanthemum design, one of the staple patterns in Temari embroidery.
Mika had done all the hard preparatory work for me. She made the traditional leather ball filled with rice husks and then wrapped it tightly with yarn followed by fine blue thread. She also added the guidelines which divided the sphere into the segments that would define the pattern.
At the end of the class I was proud to have a Temari ball that had a completed (though simple) design on half the sphere. I was thrilled with the result, and promised I would work on the other half once I was back home. She ended the class with a prettily wrapped bag that had all the supplies I needed to finish my project. (Once again, function with form).
More Temari in my future
While I really enjoyed my Temari making class, I didn’t think much more about it until my tour of the Kurashiki Historical Quarter near Okayama city with Heritage Expeditions. One of the artsy souvenir shops had a few locally made Temari for sale and I was intrigued. The one that caught my eye was black and white with accents of red in a very modern looking geometric pattern. It was a unique souvenir that I couldn’t resist buying.
The next day, I was visiting Miyajima island, and once again, one of the local shops had a Temari on display. This one was also in shades of black, red and white, but was a little larger. It would make a nice compliment to the Temari ball I had purchased the previous day. I was hooked and did not realize it.
Then I looked for Temari balls in the shops in Hagi, my next destination on the tour, but that town was all about (beautiful) ceramics.
In Kanazawa, I was very excited when Google maps showed me a whole store dedicated to Temari, only to find that it was closed on the day I was visiting. No worries, I found an art gallery not far from the Kanazawa Castle and Gardens that sold some exquisite examples and I had a hard time choosing just one.
From that point on, I Googled “Temari balls” in every location that I visited around Japan for the next five weeks. Some towns had nothing while others might have had a location that was out of the way and not easy to get to in the time I had allotted. Still, I found enough to make me happy.
And sometimes, they found me. As I was strolling through the port town of Otaru on the island of Hokkaido, the cluttered display at an antique shop caught my eye. Among all the trinkets decorating the entryway, a few Temari balls were also hanging from the door jam. I picked out one that I liked and wove my way through the narrow aisle to the sales desk in the back.
I explained that I was collecting Temari during my travels throughout Japan. Reluctantly, the owner told me in broken English that the Temari was not for sale and was for display only. While I paid for a small glass fishing float instead, his wife came from the back room and offered me a different Temari ball. This one was more modern yet still lovely. When I asked how much, they insisted that it was a gift. The beautiful black ball with a large pink chrysanthemum design is now the largest example in my new collection.
Surprisingly, finding Temari balls in Tokyo proper was a challenge. The one location that showed up on the map, HAReTEMARI, turned out to be a second floor eatery above some shops in a building not far from the new Harry Potter Cafe.
When I asked a waitress about Temari balls, she pointed to a closed door at the back and said 5 o’clock. Intrigued, I returned just after 5 to find that the door lead to a private event room that had a variety of Temari decorating the walls. Again, I had a hard time choosing one to buy because they were all unique.
While enjoying a snack and a drink, I had a long, Google assisted, conversation with the waitress about Temari balls. I learned that not only did they sell Temari from all over the country at this location and online, they also offered regular workshops each month. This was also where I learned about the Temari Museum. The waitress seemed intrigued that a foreigner was so interested in such an obscure Japanese tradition.
At the Temari Museum
At the Temari Museum, I let the museum caretaker know that I had been hunting for Temari all over Japan. With a big smile, she took me back to the main display room and it felt like I hit the jackpot.
Big ones the size of a cantaloupe, medium sized ones like a baseball, and smaller ones the size of a walnut- all these beautiful, colorful, intricately embroidered temari balls were staring back at me. Many were set behind glass, but a few were out in the open and could easily be viewed from all sides.
The gallery is run by the Japan Temari Association, and these were just some of the examples from their collection. Every month, they display a grouping of Temari balls centered around a theme. I was there in June and that month’s theme was Early Summer Flowers and Rainy Seas. Designs representing roses and hydrangeas crafted in delicate hues of pink, lavender, and blue, were lovingly displayed in glass topped cabinets. Each month’s collection can also be perused on their website.
I also drooled over the extensive library of pattern books and magazines with their highly technical designs, all written in Japanese. I did eventually find a slim volume that was written in both English and Japanese which I was happy to purchase.
Back in the US, I researched Temari balls and discovered a few Facebook groups dedicated to teaching and promoting their art with members from all over the world. Groups such as this and instructors like Mika are helping to keep this ancient tradition alive and growing, not just in Japan, but globally.
In the end, I came home with a dozen Temari balls in different sizes and patterns. Though they are a cacophony of colors, somehow, the designs all play well together. They sit prettily in a shallow glass bowl in my living room. Every time I pass by and look at this display, it makes me smile. It’s a uniquely tangible reminder of my six wonderful weeks in Japan.
There is something to be said for form without function.
Thanks for visiting.
Rose
Other stories I’ve written about Japan:
All about my small ship tour around Japan: Japan Off the Beaten Path with Heritage Expeditions
My shibori dying class in Kyoto: Experience the Kyoto Shibori Museum – Keeping and Ancient Artistic Tradition Alive
My favorite Japan photos from my recent 6 week trip: Off the Beaten Path in Japan – My Journey in Photos
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