After picking up a Japanese-made power loom in Maebashi, I stopped by the Tomioka Silk Mill on the way back.
As someone involved in dyeing and weaving, I had long thought, “Someday, I really want to visit the Tomioka Silk Mill!” As I wrote in my previous blog post, Going to Maebashi to Bring Home a Japanese-Made Power Loom, I was born and raised in Osaka, so I do not have a strong sense of geography in the Kanto region. When I checked the map before the trip, I realized that Maebashi and Tomioka were quite close to each other. In that case, I had no choice but to go! So I changed my plans and decided to visit.
The reason is that Hitotsuya takes inspiration from “Meiji-era manufacturing.” Instead of treating natural dyeing only as traditional craftwork or a hobby, I want to develop it into cloth and products that can be used in everyday life. I found an important clue for balancing productivity and quality in “the Meiji-era form of production, where human hands and kikai worked together.”
One of the starting points of that approach was the Tomioka Silk Mill, which is now registered as a World Heritage Site. If I missed this chance, I did not know when I would be able to visit next. I felt a little embarrassed arriving in a small truck loaded with a large machine, but at last, I was able to visit a place I had long admired.
▼ The exterior of the Tomioka Silk Mill. It was a place I had wanted to visit at least once in order to think about Meiji-era manufacturing.
When I arrived at the Tomioka Silk Mill, the first thing that surprised me was its scale. The silk-reeling factory was about 140 meters long, and it is said that 300 reeling basins were once lined up inside. At the time, it was apparently one of the largest silk-reeling factories in the world.
To think that such a factory was built at the beginning of the Meiji era――that fact alone conveys the energy of people trying to move toward a new age.
▼ Inside the long silk-reeling factory. Many reeling machines once stood here, and full-scale machine reeling was carried out.
▼ The silk-reeling factory as it appeared at the time of its founding. I was moved to see that a space like the one depicted in this nishiki-e print still remains today.
The Tomioka Silk Mill was not simply a place where raw silk was produced.
It introduced French silk-reeling technology, learned from foreign engineers, trained young women gathered from all over Japan, and those who learned the techniques later returned to their home regions, spreading machine silk-reeling across the country. In other words, it was both a factory that made products and a place where technology was learned and passed on.
At Hitotsuya, I also want to do more than simply make things. I want to record each process――dyeing, weaving, repairing tools and kikai――and pass those records on to the next step. That is why I was so strongly drawn to the role of the Tomioka Silk Mill.
▼ The Tomioka Silk Mill was not only a silk-reeling factory, but also a place where technology was learned and spread.
The old photographs and nishiki-e prints on display also left a strong impression on me.
The Tomioka Silk Mill depicted in the nishiki-e prints seemed to be filled with expectations for a new era. Red-brick buildings, kikai, and people at work. I felt that they showed the image of “future manufacturing” as people in the Meiji era saw it.
However, I cannot look at the Tomioka Silk Mill only as a simple “Meiji success story.”
The silk industry was supported by many working people. In particular, the labor of young women played a major role.
As depicted in the 1979 film Ah, Nomugi Pass, the silk industry from the Meiji to Taisho eras also involved harsh realities for young women who left poor farming villages to work in factories. Long working hours, unfamiliar factory life, and migrant labor to support their families. Japan’s modernization was built not only on bright hopes, but also on the burdens carried by such people.
So the energy I felt there was not simply a feeling of “amazing!”
The power to learn new technology and move the times forward.
And, at the same time, the labor and lives of the people who supported it.
I believe that we cannot truly understand the meaning of the Tomioka Silk Mill unless we look at both sides.
▼ Inside a silk-reeling factory from the late Meiji to Taisho period. The development of the silk industry was supported by many working people, especially young women. This does not mean that this particular photograph shows the harsh working conditions depicted in Ah, Nomugi Pass.
My generation was often taught in school that “Japan is a small country,” “Japan is a country with few natural resources,” and “Japan was behind Europe and America.” Of course, there is truth in that. Japan’s modern industrialization began later than in the West, and natural resources were limited.
But as I walked through the Tomioka Silk Mill, I felt that another perspective is also needed.
Because Japan was behind, people simply tried to catch up.
Because the country was small, people tried not to lose to larger powers.
It was not only that. I felt that people at the time were learning unfamiliar technologies, incorporating them into their own work, and trying to change the shape of daily life and industry.
That attitude is still necessary in manufacturing today.
This is not a story meant only to take pride in the past. Nor is it a story meant to beautify anything.
If something is missing, make it.
If there is something you do not understand, learn it.
If it does not work, try again.
And then let it take root as your own work.
That was the attitude toward manufacturing in the Meiji era that I felt at the Tomioka Silk Mill.
At the same time, there was something that concerned me as I walked around the site.
Although it is a World Heritage Site and an important place for understanding Japan’s modernization, I could see considerable damage in some of the buildings. Of course, preserving old buildings is not easy. It requires money, skill, and time. To preserve something is much harder than simply saying that it should be preserved. Even so, I found myself thinking deeply about how such an important place should be protected and passed on in the future.
A form of production in which human hands and kikai work together. What I saw on this journey became an important clue for thinking about the future of Hitotsuya’s manufacturing.
And this journey continues to one more place. Next, I will visit the Toyota Commemorative Museum of Industry and Technology in Nagoya.
From the energy of the Meiji era that I felt at the Tomioka Silk Mill, to the evolution of textile machinery, and then to the path of Japan as a “manufacturing nation.”
This journey is not over yet.