In this post, Jan describes how she came to meet and work with Hiroi-sensei, how he taught his apprentices, and how she felt appreciated among a community of artists.
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Malina: So, now I think we’re going to shift over to, um you’re work with Hiroi Sensei.
Janell: Yes. Uh-huh.
Malina: So how–you mentioned how you first met him, had you heard about him before?
Janell: No. No. He came from Tokyo and settled in Sendai but it was–I didn’t know he was there. It was through Mr. Amano’s connection, he and Mr. Takahashi helping Hiroi sensei and visiting for this particular, they discovering him. They found, like I said, they were looking for a kite-maker to interview on one of these new years programs because flying kites is the big thing for boys and playing badminton is for girls. And anyway, they didn’t find a kite-maker but a woman who was running–a japanese woman who had a nice book store was acquainted with Hiroi-sensei. and she found that they had a top-maker right there in Sendai. And that’s when they found him and he was not well, and he was not making much money to live on. So they got him into the hospital and got him taking them on as apprentices. So they could get some money to him and assisting him in getting back to making tops. And around that period, I had been on that program with Mr. Amano’s wife and she was my associate and using the Japanese while I was doing the English. But anyway, he and his friend from the same company, TBS, asked me to be on this program. And they took me to the home of Mr. Hiroi. And I met Hiroi-sensei and his wife in a very strange house. They had one or two rooms besides the shop and we’d sit around the table and have tea after we finished working.
So, there’s some pictures in this book of that room and the thing that was wonderful is, he had two lathes, one that he worked at and we sat and he could see us like that you know. We sat across from each other. And so, instead of like an apprentice does for a potter making clay for five or six years before they get on the wheel. We got on the lathe right from the very beginning. And he prepared the wood for us, he prepared our tools for us, so we were his apprentices but we were beholden completely to our teacher. I was so pleased with the way he accepted me as a foreigner and he actually would make, for me, he would make a model and then I could copy it. For his professional men who were his apprentices, the ones who made the dolls, he would just talk about the concept and talk about what…and then they’d make it and bring it back to him and then he’d tell them what was wrong with it and what was good about it. It was interesting to be there and sit in the same [kotatsu] with these other apprentices.
And many times his wife and I were the only women, so we listened a lot. And it was fun. I enjoyed those times in the kotatsu and listening to the discussions. For a teacher of English who was with a college of junior high and senior high school girls, and in many ways being a leader for them, it was just wonderful to be able to sit around a tale with these Japanese men and listening to what they were talking about. Because a lot of the times it was about making the tops, but the friendships that developed in that area were some that were quite different from being a missionary in a Christian school. But I was always accepted as a valid person.
And he was good at giving me examples and I would make them myself. I have two of them out there that I made, one in ‘82, that’s the first one. That was a present for my family, so I made I think seven or eight of them. That’s in one of these books too. Then the more recent one is the church with each item makes a top, there’s seven tops in that one. That one conglomeration of seven tops. But anyway, he let me do Huck Finn, and Tom Sawyer, Cinderella. I like that fact that he was open to European or American stories as well as these ones we have here of Momotaro. These two he made, this is not his, these two. Momotoro and the Onii, the devil, that were disturbing the life of his village. And the peach boy. Those are the [dango] that his mother made him that he gave one to the pheasant, one to the monkey, and one to the dog, and they helped him conquer these ugly bad guys. And they were fierce and then they became friends.
But we had some interesting discussions. And my teacher once, around Hiroshima day in August, that was one of the most memorable times in my visits with him. He told me about when his parents and he were in Tokyo when the big bombing of Tokyo took place. Their part of Tokyo was connected with war-making factories. His father could no longer do tops, he had to use his…doing something connected to the war so that the company that bought his tops took his lathe and all his equipment and sent it up to [Shiroishi City] in Tohoku where there were a lot of woodworkers. But then the father and the mother… in this time…Sensei said the planes were so low he could hear the music that they were playing on the airplanes. They bombed that part of the city. He and his brother and father fled to the school pond, the swimming pool, and they jumped in the pool, fortunately in the shallow end. The people who jumped in the deep end went down to the bottom and other bodies went on top of them and they all perished. But the people in the shallow end survived. His mother and the siblings, I don’t know if it was one or two, perished in the fire. And his father and his brother were left, and this company sent them to Shiroishi to live.
Many of the children of Tokyo at that time were sent out to farmlands and Tohoku was one area where they came, Tokyo kids, because their families were trying to save them from the terrible bombings that they were having. Some of them were in the same areas and the locals weren’t that glad to have them, you know. You’re struggling yourself with food, but in those years people that I knew sold their kimono or whatever, they took them to the farmers in the country. Fortunately the farmers in Japan didn’t experience what Europe experienced, the land warfare where the armies were fighting right out in the farmlands. The Japanese were bombed in big cities but the farmlands were still functioning. So the city people went out with their treasures and traded for food. But Mr. Hiroi– he and his father and brother went to the Sendai area, [Shirorishi] about an hour away on the train and then he became one of the Tohoku’s famous woodworkers. He and his brother are the two living members of the Edo-tops. Edo, the former name for Tokyo.
Malina: Did he have many other apprentices? How many other apprentices?
Janell: Well, I’m not sure how many are left. Because we’re all getting older. But I have a picture and there were oh about, three or four, five, six, seven. Some professional and then non-professional. When I was starting my work there there was a man who was an employee for Sendai City and he went there as a treat to himself, and he was very good and I have a top that he made, really beautiful top, on that I often use. It’s way over there, but anyway. And now we have a connection with Mr. Maeda who’s there every day. That means I think he’s working on the lathe.
Malina: How did you become interested in becoming his apprentice?
Janell: Well, it was just buying that [??} and giving it to somebody and finding out that right there in Sendai was the man who made it. And I was impressed with him and I just…it was timing. I, nothing I can say I was looking for. It just happened. And I was so fortunate to be able to be on that program teaching English to the women that gave me a contact with Mr. Amano. And anyway, to be invited to meet this man. And then be able to be an apprentice [excited noise]. Because I had been interested in art and I draw pictures and stuff. But, I never had any…my father was a woodworker. He made a big desk for me that’s in another room here. I took that to Japan and brought it back, but my father was working down in the basement of our house. When I was an eighth grader, in the seventh and eighth grade, girls weren’t allowed to take shop but we had cooking and sewing, and so I wasn’t interested in that stuff. But, being an apprentice was just a work of fate.
Malina: So, you had bought a [sumo-set] before you met him, or was that after?
Janell: Yes, before. Because I found that in Tokyo, he was making things still and selling things in Tokyo that, right after the war, because of the connection probably to his father. His father had this connection with people in Tokyo, but anyway, I bought that when I went to Tokyo one time. And I gave it to Mr. Amano’s little girls. And thought it was fun. And then they found when they were looking for a kite-maker they found the top-maker and found out that he made that set of sumo wrestlers.
Malina: How long before you met him did you give the girls the set?
Janell: It wasn’t too much before that. A couple..maybe a year or so. Because it was still connected to that program and I wish I could tell you what years that program was on. One year it was on TBS and that connection.
Malina: What year did you become his apprentice?
Janell: ‘82.
Paula: For how long were you apprenticed to him?
Janell: Until I left Japan. ‘95. There wasn’t a real apprentice after a couple of years because my teacher helped me get my own lathe. Like I say he’d make me a sample and I’d make it on my own. I have a book of the stuff I made. This is it. [laughs] You can see in that book the freedom I was given. And he helped me do a Cinderella, a little pumpkin and the horses and anyway [laughs].
Malina: Did you sell yours?
Janell: Yes, I didn’t make ‘em for sale. Then for three years–and I wanted to find out if they’re still doing that–one of the department stores has a sale of Mr. Hiroi’s apprentice’s and his tops for sale. Three days in that January 3 and January 6. I had a couple of books of that. Where are they–over there. But I had my things there for sale at that time. The money for our things one year went to an organization for helping people with something. I had…I don’t have it in my head, I have it in one of these books. The money that we made from the tops that time–some of it was from the apprentices–was given to an organization for some use for others.
Malina: How far did you travel to take lessons, to work with him?
Janell: To get lessons? For a while I was going to the southern part of Sendai. I usually went around supper time. It was a frustrating experience because two lanes went into one to cross a bridge and you’d have these guys who would sneak in [makes driving noise]. I was kind of high before I got even to my teacher’s house. But anyway, then he moved from that place to this village and that was further, but it was a more interesting ride into this hot spring town south of Sendai. The other one was off a main thoroughfare that went down to Tokyo, you know. But this one was a more quiet route. So, I was never really far.
Malina: What was a daily lesson like?
Janell: Mmm. Well, it was like being given a piece of wood that was five-sided and you’d put it on the bit, and working, and the teacher was often working on a project that I could watch him do. And there’s a… if I had any trouble he would come and look at me. It was just me doing work. After I got good enough he got me this lathe of my own and I went there just like the pro-deshi [apprentices] did with the things I made and he would look at them. And we would discuss what project we could do and then he’d make something…made the raft and Huckleberry and Tom. So there were things done in the kotatsu, around the table. Planning. But when I had my own I wasn’t getting lessons anymore I was getting assistance and a great deal of help.
I liked my teacher because he was willing to…and he was knowledgeable. It was an interesting combination of him and his wife. When they were in Sendai, she was from a farm home down south of Sendai, I can’t remember the town. And her father and his father were very close friends. They’d his father…Her father would come and visit. [laughs] They were such good friends that they decided his son and her father…his daughter, his daughter was just right for the son. Now, this is a Tokyo son and a farmer girl. Who for part of her life was sent to Hokkaido to be somebody’s babysitter and send the money back because her mother had gone, had died, I think. It was just like an oshikei story oshiin, of the hard life of this farm-woman. And then she married this Tokyo-man. But he had a lot of interest in Japanese folklore, and I think coming out of Tokyo he had a background that was much broader than coming from a little town and farm in Tohoku. It’s an interesting combination. But she’s the business woman and he’s the artist. She handles all of these things that the apprentices bring to sell in the store in connection with his shop in this village. She keeps track of how much this man should get and how much this man should get. She was very good at business, and of course, cooking and taking care of the house. And then she was on–there’s a picture of her there on the lathe. He let her–he taught her how to make things. But anyway, it was an interesting combination.
Malina: What was the most challenging aspect of the top-making?
Janell: The most challenging? Time was an issue. Having the time to do it. When I had my own lathe I didn’t have to travel so far. It was right behind me in my house and I could work after school when I was teaching at Miyagi. It was different when I was working for the conference because then I could plan my own schedule. When I worked at school I was at school this time and by this time so it was easier to organize. When I had my own time, I’d feel guilty when I wasn’t working, you know. It’s not as easy to do what you thought you should do. But, after a while, otherwise I didn’t feel any hardships. Or frustrations, because my teacher was very generous. He’d even say something nice even when it was dumb [laughs].
Here’s a picture when he had…this is why I like my teacher. Just look at that bottom picture. Look at him sitting in a chair smiling. We had this wonderful party and we had food. There’s Mr. Amano, and Mr. Takahashi, and the woman who did all my cooking.
Malina: Was there a difference between the types of tops Hiroi made for collectors, well you said you didn’t make any for sale, was there a difference?
Janell: Yes, he’d make some that were easy to spin, but the collectors were interested in something that’s really different. And so, he would make them and anybody who came there to visit could buy them. He didn’t have a shop when I first met him, he was in this very–what I call a hovel. A very poor place to live. But then we joined this artisan’s village then he had a nice shop to go with it. And most of the tops in that shop were done by his disciples, his deshi. And then they would get the money that they–Mrs. Hiroi was the business woman. The money that they got from those that say Masayuki made, then he, those were–all that money went to him with a bit for the sensei. You know like one of the consignment things where you give things and you get some of the money back. So these, this is one way he was helping these young professional doll-makers also become skilled top-makers and they could earn some extra money that way. But the one rule he made was interesting, the professional men who were skilled in making the dolls, they always signed their name on the bottom and some of the dolls were collected faithfully by certain people. Every year they’d get another one and the number of how old the person was would change each year. Then you could compare how many, if you collected Masayuki’s all every year you could see how he developed or how it went down and so on. That’s a collecting technique that I didn’t follow. But, my teacher himself asked that none of the tops that were sold in his store, none of them have a name on the bottom.
He wanted the people to buy the tops for the appearance and not for the name. And that indicates a difference between the dolls and tops in my teacher’s case. And when he made tops for the collectors, he did that. Not a different top every month because some of them were quite complicated and took a long time to make fifty of one kind. Those he might sign for the collector, because that was a verification that this was Hiroi-sensei’s and that’s an Edo top. But, um, when I was there in the shop that was part of that village, his things were not on the shelves. All of the tops were made by his professional deshi. I don’t…I think it indicated a kind heart of a teacher who wanted his disciples to have equal access to the buying public. And I appreciated his generosity. He didn’t handle the business he was there, they would sit in the kotatsu and talk with him and discuss some new designs. He, for me he made it so I could copy it, but for his professional disciples they had to make it from his words, from his descriptions. And when they’d come back with what they made and then he would pick out that should be a little bit rounder there or something. He would make them do it over if it wasn’t what he was suggesting. So that trained them to listen very carefully. And I was in on some of those sessions, they were exciting to be there, just sitting there and listening to him instruct them.
In this post, Hiroi-sensei describes the difficult process of woodworking behind top creation as well as the long history of tops in Japan
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Paula: When you’re teaching apprentices, what is the first skill you teach them? Or, what do you think is the most important lesson?
Hiroi: Mmm, the most important one? What is the most important one?
Paula: Or the first step.
Hiroi: Well, I don’t really say such difficult things like “first step.” It’s [more like] “Do it because you love it.” Anyway, at first you mimic the hand movements, and I teach how to carve. So that anyone can learn it, I take their hands and show them, and after that, little by little back off, so they are doing it on their own. So it’s [learned] rather quickly. People who take a longer amount of time take about half a year before they can make a single top. And people who take a while, there are some that take quite a long time.
Usually apprentices struggled with the tops for half a year or a year, and then were gradually able to make apprentice tops. So it’s not that there’s a particularly important thing I teach them. The most important thing is for them is the feeling that they want to learn it themselves.
And this, well, in the past, it was that no matter what, a master’s skills had to be inherited, not that you did it because you liked it, and if the master did it a certain way, you had to do it exactly like that. It was like we absolutely had to do it one way. But people who do it for a hobby do it because they love it, they learn it because they just enjoy it, and before I teach them something like “an important [lesson],” they already love it, so there’s no need to say such unnecessary things like that. So I lend a hand so that they can make even just one [top], no matter how long it takes. Even if it wobbles a little or something, if they can make even one top, I’m so happy. And then they get absorbed in [making them], and they come again wanting to make a better one and want to give it their best on their own. And they keep at it, and like Landis-sensei get really good at it. That she had to go back to America– I think it was fitting, since she became so good at [top making]. Heh heh heh.
Paula: When your apprentices’ training is done, how do you keep in touch with them?
Hiroi: Mmm, I don’t really keep in touch with them. When my apprentices have time they come for a lesson. I don’t really say anything [to keep up with them] on my part. Apprentices come when they want to work on [their skills], and if they come, I teach them. It’s like that. So it’s very free in that way. So I don’t force them to do anything. It’s the same for those who are pros and those who are amateurs.
Paula: In the teaching of your apprentices, what is a daily lesson like?
Hiroi: Mmm, just foolish talk. And everyone rolls around laughing, “hahaha,” “hohoho,” and just enjoys themselves. We talk about all kinds of things here, and in those conversations there’s fun things, humor like the Edo iki*, and jokes. There’s a lot of that [when we get together], and if I were giving a strict lecture, or teaching as if I were in a classroom, then I couldn’t make learning and teaching interesting. So I break it up and make it half play. And very free-form.
And those [apprentices], how should I put it? They have their own distinctive character. And there’s a certain style of Edo tops, but within that, I [have them] make make it in their own way while enjoying themselves. So everyone learns while having fun. It’s the same for those doing it professionally and as a hobby. If you don’t have that, then you really can’t make interesting tops. It’s fine to teach it like, “This is like this, so do it like this. This is like this, so don’t do that,” but then everyone will make the same things, and their charm disappears. Everyone is their own person, so in order to make the best use of that individuality, they [should] make them freely, doing interesting things while enjoying themselves. For pros and amateurs alike.
Paula: What do you feel is the most challenging aspect of learning the woodworking craft? Not just making tops…
Hiroi: The most challenging part is the seikan, sawing the wood, making the tools– blacksmithing. Tool-making. That is difficult. If you can skillfully make the tools and saw the wood, you can do anything. If it’s just carving, even a person doing it as a hobby can manage, but if you become a pro, you can’t be a professional just with that [skill], so until you get on the lathe, the preparation before that is the sawing [kidori 木取り], finely cutting the actual tree trunk. Some time ago Maeda-kun cut some of the ones over there, and to saw in the kidori style, he made tools, and the tools were based on the items he made; he came up with a variety of tools by himself.
If you can’t make your own tools well, you won’t be able to come into your own [as a top-maker]. It’s difficult to teach it as well as to use a design, and in the end you just have to learn it yourself. Well, I teach the fundamentals. But I’m not a blacksmith, you know. Though I’m an amateur at smithing, I have my own style. I tentatively teach my own style of it, though I don’t know if that’s in itself a kind of tradition. I teach about the tools that I use here [at my workshop]. And now Maeda-kun is thinking about it himself and making his own tools. If you’re able to do that, then you’ve matured [as a top-maker]. That’s actually what’s most difficult.
Paula: Um, regarding the Edo tops, can you explain a bit about their characteristics? For example, how are they different from other tops?
Hiroi: Ahh, they’re totally different from other tops. Umm, well, in Japan there are many different tops that are the famous product of different areas, but these are almost all tops that you spin outside. The tops that I make, well, of course you can spin them outside, too, but almost all of them are called “tatami tops” and are meant to be played with and enjoyed indoors. And when you’re not playing with them you display them, and enjoy them that way. They’re tops that you can enjoy in a number of ways. Their characteristics are that they’re “tatami tops,” you use them indoors, and you usually play with them.
And there’s many different types. That there’s a lot of types, too, is something from long ago, in the Edo period… In Japan, long ago, in ancient times, a thousand or two thousand years ago, on the morning of New Year’s Day, at the imperial court they spun tops and, err, how should I describe it? They wanted to create the country’s policies, so they used [the tops] for fortune-telling. And there was an official who spun tops on the morning of New Year’s Day, and through what direction they stopped on, decided things like harvest will be good this year, or the harvest will be bad, so we have to do this or we can’t do this, etc., and [the tops] were used that way. One of them was, umm, when they built the bullet train here, in the city of Natori, there was an archaeological site called Shimizu, i think. And they excavated it to build the bullet train tracks. When they did, from inside a well they found three things: a top, a flute, and comb. One of those items is preserved in the prefectural Folk Museum in Takajo. I think they still have it.
The top is about this big. And there’s no doubt it was made with a lathe. I think it might be the oldest [top found] in Japan, and it was about a thousand years old. And the fact that it was found like that in the well, with the flute and the comb, means it was probably used to fortune-telling, or a charm, or… what should I call it? Used for deciding something. That there was a flute and a comb along with the top meant that it was for a matsuri (festival/ritual). So it is said to be for something like that. A good luck charm, or fortune-telling. It seems it was probably for deciding important things.
And burying it inside the well like that, what would you call it today? Um, you would bury such things in the well when there was an outbreak of contagious disease or illness, like dysentery in children or regular dysentery. If you drank the water in the well, the disease would spread. So they’d fill in the well so it couldn’t be used anymore, and at that time [the objects] would be sort of like a sacrifice. It would be like you were sacrificing them, and the top, the flute, things you usually use everyday would be buried [along with the well]. And people think that’s what they were used for. And there’s no doubt that the tops were made using a lathe. And there was evidence of shavings from a lathe (kanname 鉋目).
And there’s evidence it was spun, too! On the tip of the top, it was rubbed by grit and rounded off. It must have been spun a number of times. So it was probably used for fortune-telling. It was probably that the most elite person in the village where those remains were used it for fortune-telling. And at that time, it was a top shaped like this. This kind of shape, but… umm, a top shaped like this, but… here, like this, there was a pattern from using a plane tool… and this area was rubbed away. Rubbed away by grit. And here, there was no hole, but it had [evidence] that it had been broken by being snapped off with a saw, so it looked like there was a hole. If you looked at it from the top, it looked like this. It was said that it looked like there was a shaft there, and if that was the case, it was really incredible, a breakthrough discovery. I asked to see it, and went there. Looking at it, there was evidence it had been cut with a saw, and that it had been cut and snapped off. And when I said that, they said they didn’t think there were saws around in use during that time period. But since this was evidence that without a doubt it had been cut with a saw, this was a huge discovery. For the history of saws, they said that if that was the case it would change the history of saw usage. And that it was incredible that in this period they already had saws. And everyone made a big fuss about it and about tops, and the people involved in saws also clamored about it. Hehehe. The history goes back hundreds of years. They were all excited about it and top people weren’t allowed to touch it because they wanted to preserve it forever. Hahaha. I expect they still have it [at the museum].
Paula: What kind of objects are in the collection of Edo tops that Landis-sensei has? Could you explain a little about them?
Hiroi: There’s all kinds of them. Ah– where are the photos from yesterday?
Paula: Ahh, well, um, tomorrow we’ll look at them and you can explain a little about them one by one, but overall, [could you explain about] what kind of themes they’re on, that sort of thing…
Hiroi: Ahh… the themes depend on the top. So rather than there being an overall theme, each one of them has one, and they have their own stories, so all together they’re Edo tops.
Hiroi-sensei has also appeared in newspapers as a well-known Edo top maker. Below is a translation of an article entitled “Sendai: This Person and That Person – Hiroi Michiaki” that ran May 14, 1982 in the newspaper Shūkan Sendai. See the original Japanese article at the link below.
Sendai: This Person and That Person – Hiroi Michiaki
A woodworker who makes Edogoma
Gifts for Children
May is the season of children who sprout up like bamboo shoots. It seems impossible that the main event of the month, Children’s Day (May 5), has passed. But as luck would have it, the Museum of History and Folklore of Tsutsujigaoka opened the exhibit “The Production and Performance of Tops,” and the air is full of excitement from the invading children. Even though the exhibit is titled “production and performance,” the children have lined up to turn the lathe and paint the tops. That said, the children are engrossed and soon the husband and wife instructors have no spare time tmo rest. Hiroi Michiaki (48) and his wife, Kyōko, who set up a workshop in Fukurohara, Sendai, are the instructors. “What? A workshop? It’s not really that kind of thing, it’s a shabby old house,” Hiroi said. At the Citizens Festival in Nishikoen last fall Hiroi’s craft demonstrations were .
“I think it’s been about a year since I started the workshop. As for apprentices, right now I have seven pros and six amateurs. Among them is an assistant professor from Miyagi Women’s University, Landis-san, an American, and there are only two women. There are lots of top (koma) experts within the prefecture, but my [workshop] is Edo-style tops. And of course, my wife is helping, too.”
A tradition spanning three generations
Tops date back as far as 1,000 years ago
“Koma (top)” is written in kanji as 独楽. They’re exclusively thought of as children’s toys, but there are also high-quality tops that [spin] along a drawn sword or the edge of a fan, or which, when rotating at great speed, have the legendary figure Ishikawa Goemon [appear to] leap out of an iron pot. These trick tops are generally the traditional “Edo-style” tops. Flashy tops are characteristic of the Genroku period (1688-1704), but among historic tops, recently excavated ancient and medieval tops have been in the news lately.
“We know from written records that, since ancient times, tops were playthings, and this is substantiated by the actual items having been unearthed. If you divide them up into two [categories], there are ‘outside tops’ and ‘inside tops.’ Outside tops are like Sendai tops, tops used on the ground and that were exclusively used by boys, and inside tops were used by people of all ages and genders on tatami mats. If you divide them into types of play, there are those you spin using both hands, rubbing tops (momigoma), twisting tops (hinerigoma) spun with the tips of the fingers, and string-release tops (itobikigoma).”
Hiroi has Foreign Apprentices in his Workshop, too
According to records, there are over 200 types of Edo-style tops. According to Hiroi, among the string-release tops, there are some that look like they lift people up and spin. He deftly spins a spousal top made by one of his apprentices. Pinching the shaft of the top on the second tier and spinning it, the wife [seems to convey], “Well, honey, I’m going out!”
And if you [place] the tops onto each other again, they spin well together, and it looks like he’s going, “Yes, honey, have good evening!” and goofing around. There are also tops that are specifically meant for gambling, and these are often called by the kanji for koma. In an age of parody, when these tops are spun, it’s for the enjoyment of adults.
[Many of] these historic Edo-style tops were destroyed in the Taishō earthquake of 1923 and the air raids of 1943-1945, and the woodworkers scattered in all directions. Hiroi Michiaki is one of those people.
According to the Traditional Kokeshi Artisan Register, Hiroi was taught by his father Kenjirō and Agatsuma Kichisuke.From a young age he learned woodworking from his father, androm 1955, he learned painting from Kichisuke. During the Tokyo air raids, he relied upon his artisan colleagues and evacuated to Miyagi Prefecture, and after that set up a workshop in Sendai. [Today], he devotes himself in earnest to creating tops rather than kokeshi.
One family of wooden-toy artisans
Though slightly old, there are several features on the Hiroi artisan family, including the Bunka Publishing Bureau’s Japan’s Wooden Toys, edited by Kan’o Shinichi, and the special issue “Tokyo’s nostalgic wooden toys” in (銀花)Quarterly 30. The former was published in 1976, and the latter in 1977.
Hiroi Michiaki’s younger brother, Masaaki (44), is also who active in making traditional Edo-style tops in Ebina, Kanagawa. The writing in the article by Hosoi Tokiko from Ginka’s editorial department and their regular female reporter is beautiful.
Putting together Hiroi’s story and what the reporter has written, the Hiroi family is one family that has continued for over two hundred years and three generations throughAsaaki, Kenjirō, Michiaki. Hiroi Michiaki’s grandfather, Asaaki, was employed as the doctor of a Tokugawa shogun, and after the Meiji Restoration, their family “took the pulse of their esteemed [employers].” That they enthusiastically became Edo-style top makers for generations is interesting.
Carving Community: 
