Shibori Textiles: Japanese Resist Dyeing and Urban Design

Introduction to Shibori

The potential for creating designs in textiles can be seen even in the physical properties of cloth. The simple fact that cloth tightly compressed into wrinkles or folds resists the penetration of dye is an opportunity — an opportunity to let the pliancy of textiles speak in making designs and patterns (Wada 2002). People around the world have recognized this opportunity, producing resist designs in textiles by shaping and then securing cloth in various ways before dyeing. Yet in no other country has the creative potential of this basic principle been understood and applied as thoroughly as it has in Japan.

In Japan, this principle has been expanded into a whole family of traditional resist techniques, involving first shaping the cloth by plucking, pinching, twisting, stitching, folding, pleating, and wrapping it, and then securing the shapes thus made by binding, looping, knotting, clamping, and similar methods. This entire family of techniques is called shibori (Wada 2001). You can explore the broader history of shibori on Wikipedia, which documents its development across centuries of Japanese textile culture.

Designs created with shibori processes all share a softness of outline and spontaneity of effect. Spontaneity is shibori's special magic, made possible by exploiting the beauty of the fortuitous things that happen when dye enters shaped cloth. Usually it is in response to the fact that a craft is being lost that the need for preserving and documenting it arises (Wada 2002).

Extensive research and experimentation have led to the revival of shibori techniques that were once well-known but have since been largely forgotten in Japan. In addition to more conventional techniques, the work of contemporary fiber artists in Japan and abroad in shibori textile art and wearable art is becoming more prevalent, suggesting the extent of the creative innovation possible (Wada 2002).

Cloth Folded and Clamped: The Itajime Technique

Dyeing cloth that is folded in two or more directions into a neatly shaped bundle and held clamped between boards or sticks is an art historian's enigma (Wada 2001). There are eighth-century examples in the Shoso-in, but subsequent examples are so scarce until the nineteenth century that doubt is cast on whether this technique existed in Japan before the latter date. Chemical blues bleed into beautiful, soft effects with this technique, whereas indigo does not penetrate deeply into the many layers of cloth. This seems to indicate that board-clamping of folded cloth may have developed from, or appeared alongside, the introduction of chemical dyes (Wada 2001).

Cloth decorated by folding and clamping was, until relatively recently, used to line simple garments or for baby diapers. The latter were often homemade and given as gifts for newborn infants. Anything so commonplace was unlikely to be recorded or preserved. The cloth was used until worn out, and few examples remain (Wada 2001). Although cloth dyed in this way is rarely seen today, decorative paper is made by folding and dyeing in a similar fashion. The technique is also employed in nontraditional ways by Japanese artist-craftsmen.

The process is simple enough. Cloth is folded into wide vertical pleats. The pleated cloth strip is then repeatedly reverse-folded, either horizontally or diagonally, into a square, rectangular, or triangular form. This creates a neat bundle of folded cloth that is fitted between boards or sticks, held in place with cord, and dipped selectively in the dye (Wada 2001). The multiple folds create simple geometric patterns, and the dye is drawn into the folds, creating a distinctive soft-edged effect. In Arimatsu-Narumi, the general name for both the patterns and the process is sekka shibori — snow crystals, literally "snow flowers" (Wada 2002). The term in more general use is itajime. This word stands alone; the term itajime shibori is not used.

The shape of the folded cloth, the amount of pressure exerted on it by the clamping device, the areas dipped in the dye (it is never completely immersed), and the length of time the cloth remains in contact with the dye all affect the outcome (Wada 2001). The action of the dye often creates totally unexpected effects — perhaps it is the element of surprise, as well as the quick results, that makes the process an immediately rewarding one. The traditional designs reproduced in examples of this technique suggest many possibilities for the creative textile artist.

Materials and Tools for Clamping

Board Clamps: Flat pieces of wood cut to the appropriate size and shape are the most usual type of clamp. If the cloth bundles are small, balsa wood works very well, since it is easy to cut with a sharp knife or fine coping saw. Masonite, other hardboard, or foam board used for architectural models may also be used. When the placement of the binding cords is determined, matching notches are cut into the two pieces of wood or other material. The notches prevent the cord from slipping. The term itajime literally means "board clamping" (Wada 2001).

Stick Clamps: Flat, smooth sticks are also used as clamps — balsa wood, readily available in a variety of sizes, is easy to cut and split. These are placed on both sides of the cloth bundle and bound around with cord. In some cases the sticks are not cut all the way through but resemble a pair of Japanese disposable chopsticks before they have been split apart. Several folds of the cloth are laid between them and the open ends are bound together. Clamping between sticks is called bijime (Wada 2001).

The process described below is the same regardless of design. The variables that determine the design are the shape into which the cloth is initially folded and the size, shape, and placement of the boards or sticks. For a deeper look at the range of resist-dyeing traditions worldwide, Wikipedia provides a useful comparative overview.

Urbanization and Shibori: A Designer's Vision

Can an urban environment be threaded through fabric experiments? Can flowing textures and tantalizing resist-dyeing explorations be interpreted as city mappings? Can the eye and the hand coordinate to evoke beauty through the Japanese technique of shibori, made tantalizingly pertinent to Bangalore's metaphors?

Positive answers to each question surfaced at textile designer Nishath Ahmed's first exhibition under the newly launched Nish label (The Hindu 2003). The display — which includes saris, scarves, stoles, running lengths, cushions, and home accents in silks from Karnataka, flowing abuthai fabric from China, and staple tussar and viscose — is exquisite in terms of color variations, tonal impressions, and shibori finesse.

These one-of-a-kind creations result from folding fabric in layers, stitched into seemingly random patterns, then dyeing the yardage in rich hues that shade and emerge in mysterious patterns (The Hindu 2003). Much like the trails created by the unpredictable way in which a city pulses, breathes, and redefines itself constantly.

These luminous textiles, many of which sold out even before the show formally opened, were nascent in Nishath's diploma project, completed at a local university in 2001. Titled "Urban Threads," Nishath set out to examine embroidery within the environment she was most familiar with and sensitive to — the city. Viewing the urban collage, she discerned within it movement, transition, structure, commotion, confusion, energy, chaos, complexity, and uncertainty. Nishath opted to entwine these experiences into her embroidery through explorations of technique, not as mere embellishment (The Hindu 2003).

The result is breathtaking. Emerald green and muted white play hide-and-seek in patterns that wave and weave through the length of a viscose scarf. Ripples of orange surge and spread, then ebb, tide-like, on the pallav and border of an areca-red silk sari. Panels of golden yellow and green, trellised with exquisite shibori, bring alive the surface of a rich brown cushion cover. Delicate pink bylanes and pathways of white make inroads into a flowing length in magenta, while pathways of post-stitch perforations add an unusual dimension. Deep accents in turquoise and cerulean playfully crisscross a spread of silken fabric, ideal for a divan cover or a wall hanging (The Hindu 2003).

Nishath explains: "I wanted to create embroidery that is rooted in the urban context, very different from the traditional, rural context it has always been seen in — or possibly to draw connections between the process and methods of the act of stitching, with the process of urban living" (The Hindu 6). "In a city, you can't see things in isolation; everything is interwoven," she says, conveying an inborn reticence over her achievements and joy at the opportunity to share her textiles with appreciative people (The Hindu 6). "I did not want to look at embroidery that is independent of other textile techniques like batik, dyeing, printing..." (The Hindu 7). Linking her experiments with shibori, Nishath explains:

Shibori is a Japanese word for a variety of ways of embellishing textiles by shaping cloth and securing it before dyeing by folding, crumpling, stitching, pleating, plucking, and twisting. I found similarities in our resist-dyeing methods, which differ from Gujarati bandhej or Madurai chungadi. (The Hindu 8)

While the future beckons with infinite possibilities through shibori and technical improvisations, Nishath's glance back is clear-eyed:

With the help of straight and curved lines, circles and landmarks, people give directions without knowing that they are actually creating patterns. Perhaps I tried to explore different effects that echo such a pattern by varying the thicknesses of yarn, with the help of my tailor Babu and Vijaya, who did the handwork. (The Hindu 9)

Among the innovations Nishath pursued: using bleach on the surface of stitches, combining embroidery with batik, and layering pre-dye fabric with nuts and washers. Her excitement comes through as she shares the process: "There was a sense of excitement in this technique because the end wasn't known until the entire process was completed. When the fabric was folded, it formed layers and what you finally saw was one unit, under which these many layers were present, besides creating impressions of the stitches" (The Hindu 9). The surprise element was ever-present, as Nishath found: "Due to the thickness of the fabric, the dye penetration happened unevenly. The bottom and the top layers took in most dye, while the other layers got progressively fainter" (The Hindu 10).

Inspired by Yoshiko Wada's two books on shibori, Nishath plunged headlong and heart-deep into her experiments with stitches and dye vats in 2001. Unsure at first, tentative at each step, and reeling from questions within, she was encouraged and steadied by her guide, who gave her both "confidence and the freedom to work on the open-ended project" (The Hindu 11). Each time a bundle of stitched cloth was dyed at the Poddar's state-of-the-art Himatsingka Seide Mill, Nishath held her breath, wondering about the outcome. Would the unfolding textile match her visual dreams? To the eyes of urban buyers at Cinnamon, they proved more than a mirage.

Questioning as a way of life comes naturally to this designer, whose theme "African Tribes" won third place at the NIFT Surface Design Competition in 2000. Unusually, she chose to use her prize money to attend the Asia-Pacific seminar on embroidery at Hyderabad in January 2001, interfacing with a challenging crafts world (The Hindu 2003). The relationship between traditional craft knowledge and Japan's rich textile arts heritage continues to inspire designers well beyond Japan's borders.

Conclusion

The world could prove to be Nishath's dye vat in years to come. Between the stitches, couched by an open imagination, lie future aspects that Nishath could unravel (The Hindu 2003). Shibori, as both a traditional Japanese craft and a living creative practice, continues to offer designers and artists a technique capable of translating the most personal and complex experiences — even the pulse of an entire city — into cloth.

Works Cited

The Hindu. Threads of Urban Identity. 2003.

Wada, Y. Memory on Cloth: Shibori Now. Kodansha International, 2002.

---. Shibori: The Inventive Art of Japanese Shaped Resist-Dyeing. Kodansha International, 2001.