After visiting the Tomioka Silk Mill, I stayed overnight in Shiojiri, Nagano Prefecture, and then headed to another important destination on this journey: the Toyota Commemorative Museum of Industry and Technology.
This museum was a place I had long wanted to visit. It was quite a detour on the way back to the workshop in Iga, Mie Prefecture, but at last, I was able to go there.
At the Tomioka Silk Mill, I felt the energy of people in the Meiji era who learned Western technology and tried to create a form of production in which human hands and kikai worked together. At the Toyota Commemorative Museum of Industry and Technology, I saw how that same energy was accumulated in more concrete forms as “invention” and “improvement.”
To be honest, this place was full of exactly the kind of information Hitotsuya needs. Looms, threads, heddles, reeds, shuttles, gears, power transmission, mechanisms for winding cloth⋯ every single thing was fascinating, and the more I looked, the more I wanted to know.
By the time I had finished looking around the museum, I was completely exhausted, both physically and mentally. But it was not simply tiredness. It felt more like too much information had entered my mind at once, and I could no longer process it all.
▼ The entrance to the Toyota Commemorative Museum of Industry and Technology. After visiting the Tomioka Silk Mill, this museum was full of information that Hitotsuya had been looking for.
▼ Here, visitors can see the history of Toyota’s manufacturing, beginning with textile machinery.
In my previous blog post about the Tomioka Silk Mill, What I Felt at the Tomioka Silk Mill｜Meiji-Era Manufacturing and the Form of Production Where Human Hands and Kikai Work Together, I wrote about the spirit of the people of the Meiji era who were involved in making things.
- 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.
What I saw at this museum was exactly the essence of that spirit. No matter where you look, these machines did not begin as perfectly completed things. They started with hand-operated looms, gradually incorporated power, developed mechanisms that stopped the machine when a thread broke, stabilized quality, and increased productivity. In other words,
- Necessity leads people to think.
- Inconvenience leads people to repair.
- Failure leads people to improve.
I believe that this accumulation of small improvements evolved the loom and eventually led to a very large industry.
The “Type G Automatic Loom” was completed by Sakichi Toyoda in 1924 and was one of the highest-level looms in the world at the time. It can be seen as one completed form of the automatic loom. Even during high-speed operation, it could automatically replenish the weft without slowing down, thanks to its groundbreaking non-stop shuttle-change mechanism. This loom became one of the foundations for the later development of the Toyota Group.
▼ The “Type G Automatic Loom,” completed in 1924 as one of the world’s highest-level automatic looms of its time.
Among the many exhibits, what drew me most strongly was an old power loom made from a combination of wood and iron.
Rather than being a completely modern metal machine, it had a wooden frame combined with metal gears and shafts. It looked as if the feeling of human hands and the movement of kikai existed together in one structure. The moment I saw it, I instinctively thought, “This is just like the power loom we brought back from Maebashi! 😲”
▼ The “Toyoda Power Loom,” invented in 1896, seen from the front. Its combination of wood and iron reminded me strongly of the power loom Hitotsuya had just welcomed.
Of course, I do not think the loom at Hitotsuya is such a famous machine. Even so, the structure combining wood and iron, the gears visible on the side, the roller for winding the cloth, and the overall presence of the machine all felt strongly connected to what we had brought home.
▼ The “Toyoda Power Loom,” seen from the side. I was strongly attracted to the way wooden structure and metal parts coexist, rather than forming a fully metal machine. The gears, shafts, and other structures also seem likely to become important clues when restoring Hitotsuya’s power loom.
The explanation panel said that this was Japan’s first power loom and that it was made in a “mixed wood-and-iron construction.”
Mixed wood-and-iron construction!
When I saw those words, I felt as if the thing Hitotsuya had been looking for had finally been given a name.
- What Hitotsuya had been searching for was not simply an old loom.
- Nor was it a machine completely separated from the human hand.
- It was something that could still work as kikai while retaining the presence of human hands.
- Something between the ambiguity of handwork and the strength of a machine.
- Something that does not create complete uniformity, but can leave a little fluctuation and human warmth in the cloth.
Now, one answer to that search was standing before me. And the fact that we had obtained something similar moved me so deeply that I almost trembled.
▼ This is the Japanese-made power loom that Hitotsuya has welcomed. I do not know whether it is the same model as the museum exhibit, but I strongly feel a connection between them.
At the same time, I noticed something very interesting here.
Sakichi Toyoda developed automatic looms in order to produce more uniform, higher-quality cloth.
- The loom stops when a thread breaks.
- Quality becomes more stable.
- Productivity increases.
- The machine helps human labor and makes cloth production more reliable.
On the other hand, the reason I am searching for an automatic loom is quite different. What Hitotsuya wants to make is not a completely uniform industrial product. I want to preserve the color fluctuations of natural dyeing and the presence of handwork, while developing them into cloth and products that can be used in everyday life.
In other words, the direction modern industry aimed for and the direction Hitotsuya is aiming for may look almost opposite on the surface. And yet, I feel that this “mixed wood-and-iron loom” may have been “the point where kikai branched into modern machine.”
This may be a bit of a side note, but at the Toyota Commemorative Museum of Industry and Technology, visitors can see not only looms, but also the later development toward the automobile industry in great detail.
The branching point from kikai to modern machine――at the end of this journey
At the end of this journey, encountering this “mixed wood-and-iron loom” made me feel that the direction Hitotsuya, and I myself, should face from now on had become clear. As I wrote earlier, this “mixed wood-and-iron loom” may have been “the point where kikai branched into modern machine.” After that point, manufacturing moved rapidly toward the age of so-called “mass production and mass consumption,” making uniform products “more, faster.”
At both the Tomioka Silk Mill and the Toyota Commemorative Museum of Industry and Technology, I saw explanations that large steam engines had been installed among the exhibits. They burned large amounts of coal and obtained enormous energy for power and electricity.
What Hitotsuya wants to aim for is exactly this: the kind of manufacturing that existed when mixed wood-and-iron looms were active. It was a form of making things that existed only for a brief moment between the early modern and modern periods, when people and kikai still worked together. Everything connected into one single line.
Thinking about all of this, I began the journey home.
Once this journey is over, I plan to begin repairing and restoring the kikai I have gathered so far.
This journey became a major turning point for Hitotsuya. Both the objects and my heart are now ready.
Now, at last, it begins. Please look forward to what Hitotsuya will do next!