(What is your specialty?) Well, my specialty is this over here. (Making kendais (a kendai is a Japanese stand used to place music sheets on) is your specialty?) Yes, also these. We use these to protect the surface skin of the shamisens (a shamisen is a traditional three stringed Japanese banjo). The surface doesn't tear when we have these on. We call them douban. (And what else would you say is your specialty?) Well, let's see. Here's one. It's an accessory case. You can put things in from both sides. If you put the lid on like this, it becomes so thin like this. You see, I thought if people are going to use it this way, why not use the other side as well, and so I changed it a little. Can you see here? This is pretty difficult to make too. Since it's so thin, you have to be real good or it will all tear apart. So I make this side first, and then hold on to this part to complete it. This is used for nagautas (a traditional song that accompanies shamisen performance). It's a one-legged kendai. This one has two legs. (What's this for?) What this? It's a kendai for kiyomoto (a narration performed with a traditional puppet show, pitched slightly higher than usual). And this one here is for nagautas. And then there is a different one for yokyokus (the singing for a traditional performance called noh). There is a different kendai for each performance. Then, this one was particularly ordered. You know when the master and the disciple have lessons facing each other with the table placed in between? (that is one way of having lessons for traditional performances) They say that it's difficult to see the sheets usually, but by placing this stand, it will make it easier to read. (You can also use it for reading books too if you make the board thicker, can't you?) The books used in noh singing are all very thin, so this will do. (Do you sing yourself?) I used to learn a lot of kouta (a traditional ballad sung accompanying shamisen performance). I sold quite a few of these when I performed at the exhibitions at department stores.

(Has this shop been open for a long time now?) We've been here from my parents' generation. Ever since 1925. (Were you working here already then?) No, because I was born in 1932. (So your father started the business?) Yes, that's right. (Did your father work for another place before that?) Yes, probably so. (And so he established the business in 1925.) Exactly. And there's another shop with the name of Nakanishi. The son of my father's young brother is maintaining the shop there now. The father originally acquired his skills here. (So this is the main shop?) Yes. Well, actually, theirs is supposed to be the real main shop, but we're more main when it comes to the work.

(Is there a long history in the world of nagauta?) Yes, there sure is. (And there are people who have been making the kendais for the whole time?) I would say that we are the only place where someone can suddenly call up and order things they need. Us and the other Nakanishi over there. Honestly speaking, the point is that we don't take notes of the measures of the things we make. Not for the kendai for nagauta, nor the kendai for kiyomoto, nor the kendai for utai, nor for the kendai for youkyoku. We all have the measures in our heads. We just use the ruler to see how long to take. (Is the form specifically fixed?) Yes, it has been fixed. But the history of kouta is fairly new, so we kind of arrange the shape of the leg according to what looks better. (So there are still unfixed things with the kouta?) Yes, there are. (Doesn't kouta have a pretty old history of itself?) Hahaha. Well, koutas are performed by those who stopped learning nagauta or kiyomoto. Those people perform koutas in Japanese style parties just for fun. Aren't I right? (So, you're the only one who can make anything that is ordered right away?) I would say so. And all the measures and sizes are input in my mind. For instance the size of the shamisen chest. (You never make any mistakes?) No, never. That kind of a thing would is impossible.

(So how long have you been doing this job?) Let's see, it will be about 47 or 48 years by now. (Have you been working since you were a teenager?) That's right. (Did you learn from your father?) Yes. (Was he a strict master?) Of course he was. He tells me to learn by watching. But he was somewhat kind to me because we're father and son. He told me the critical points. At times when I'm pretty satisfied in completing something, and about to take it out to sell, he just steps on it and crushes it if he thinks it's not good enough to display. Right in front of me, just like that. (Were many of them smashed?) Oh yes. And then, you never know when a ruler comes flying toward you. He strikes me with a ruler like this. It hurts real bad because it bends. It becomes a bruise when I get hit. (There were other craftsmen working there too?) Indeed. There were about six people right after the World War II. (Were they all hit too?) No, they're workers. But instead, my father would fix the wrong parts when they go home. (When were you scolded so much?) When I make little mistakes. (Did you agree with your father when you saw him fix your things?) Come to think of it, yes. But in those days, I was thinking of running away from home. Hahahaha. I wouldn't have tried to learn by myself if I wasn't taught that way though. For instance in cutting a board after drawing a line. There is a difference in leaving the line by cutting it on this side, or rather cutting it on the other. You see, that's how the teeth of a saw is made. (You mean it's crossed?) Yes, so there is a difference if you bring the teeth inside, or outside. The smoothness of the construction process depends on this. It can be constructed smoothly when they are fit perfectly. (Do you change the directions according to each situation?) I keep it a rule to use it that way when I make muntins used in boxes and sorts. (Do the people who use them realize the difference?) Probably not. (So it's the spirit of the maker.) Exactly. Exactly so. No one would recognize such a small detail. So when I'm handling paulownia wood, I only cut this far. (showing how the rod is actually fit in the kendai) It gets deeper by the year. The wood is a very soft material. (What do you mean by the year?) Since you insert the rod every time you use it, the rod gets thinner, and so it fits deeper and deeper. In a while, it fits the hole perfectly. The stand becomes unstable if the rod is fit exactly into the hole from the beginning. (Is there an average time-span for the use of stands?) Not for this type. (Then do ones from a long time ago still exist?) I would say so, yes. (Do you make the tools used in actual shows as well?) Mostly so. When performing nagauta, there are lots of these placed next to each other in a row. That's because there are many instruments like the tsudumi (Japanese drum) that participate. When it comes to kiyomoto, you only need the shamisen. In kouta, each person simply sings alone, so the instruments are played with the nail.

(Don't you sing or play any instruments?) No, no. The shamisen, impossible for me. It's not that easy to get to be able to play the shamisen. (How about your father?) My father used to dance. (So people would go to learn from the master that's around.) Yes, that's how they did it. My father was learning dance and kiyomoto. That's why he used to sing when he got drunk. Haha. But come to think of it, I think that the craftsmen of the past were good at enjoying their time compared to nowadays. I've never seen him eat dinner at home. He would always go to a small restaurant. He went every night. (Didn't he ever take you there?) No, never. Haha. (Do you think it was a good time to live?) Those days, yes. (Wasn't there somewhere like that when you started your job?) Not in my age, no. (In the other shop I interviewed, the master told me that his father wouldn't come home for about ten days after their business season was over.) You see? Doesn't everybody have that kind of story?

(Do you get many orders recently?) These days because of the depression, the number of orders is falling. The season that I receive the most orders is in spring and autumn. They are the seasons people have recitals. And then in summer, there used to be what was called a yukata recital. The masters did all sorts of things to earn their income. But I would say that there aren't that many more of these kinds of masters. Most of them are about 70 or 80 of age now. People don't know much about traditional Japanese songs anymore. If you were to go to a hot spring asking to play dodoitsu (an old Japanese love song), the most you can expect is for them to ask you what dodoitsu is. They don't have shamisens in the first place. There aren't any more jikatas (players of instruments for the music accompanying traditional Japanese style dance). (Do you have a shamisen of your own?) No, I don't. I have something that looks like one though. A shamisen maker gave it to me because it was so old and useless. These things originally used to be folded in half, or in thirds. There was a variation like one that folds into fifths to be able to carry around easily. Most of them are three-fold these days. (Does the length of the shamisen differ according to the type of the song?) The body is different. The body gets bigger.

(Did you originally make sashimono?) (sashimono is a traditional Japanese technique of combining wood to create a firm joint) Yes, that's why I only make stands for Japanese instruments. I used to be a member of the Edo Sashimono Association, ten or twenty years ago. I used to display my shamisen related products at department stores or exhibitions through the path of the association. But then I thought that only selling shamisen related products is too limited, and I came up with ideas for other things. (So you've been making things for Japanese instruments?) That's right. My roots are firm there with the Japanese instruments. By now, after working for so many years, I can make practically anything if something is ordered, or if I come up with a totally new idea. Making things isn't that much of a tough job, but using my head thinking of new ideas is the hard part these days. (Do you like making things?) Oh yes, definitely. I even think of how to improve things in my sleep. When I have a firm vision of what to make, I plan what kind of board to use, how to draw the lines, the approximate size and so forth. So it's difficult to make two things of the same kind. (a laugh) (You wind up in the situation of trying to remember how you did it?) Yes, exactly. (Do you know the people who order your merchandise?) Not at all. I only know the wholesale merchants who deal with shamisens. An amateur will only order one or two, and that's not enough for an order. The wholesale merchants order more than ten at a time. (Do you normally make that kind that is ordered?) No. All of them are made after I receive an order asking for a certain amount of a certain kind of product.

(Do you work from an early time in the morning?) Not that much. From around 8:30. (That IS early!) It's not that early. I'm up and walking up to the mountains of Ueno from 5 o'clock. (And you end your work early and drink, don't you?) Yes, and I also like mountain climbing. (Then walking around isn't any trouble for you.) No, it's really nothing. I would walk to Asakusa without using another way of transportation. (Did you carry the mikoshi (a portable shrine carried by many people on occasional events) when you were young?) Yes, I used to. I also went to Europe to climb the mountains there. (So you're quite different from your father.) Very different. We're not alike at all. I try not to do any ridiculous things after seeing what he went through.

(Do you use paulownia wood as your material?) Yes, and we don't have any other kind of wood around here. Everything is paulownia. (Do you purchase the wood from a paulownia specialist?) We buy them from a wholesales merchant. They're all a kind called Nanbu-Kiri. They're from Iwate prefecture. (Are the paulownias of Iwate specially good?) They're beautiful. (Are you talking about the stripe patterns?) Precisely. (Is it right to use the wood so that the grain is seen?) I would say so, yes. The straight grain of a paulownia tree is like a living creature. (Do paulownia trees grow fast?) Probably so. They say they grow right from where they cut them. So in the spring, you have to cut them before the trees absorb rain water. We then leave it through the rainy season and use them after it is over. They do so because the lye has to be removed. By cutting them down and laying them during the beginning of the rainy season, all the lye comes out, and the trees provide boards with high quality. When the trees are used before going through the rainy season because of the lack of lumber, they are called shinki, meaning immature lumber. These are very poor in quality no matter how much you remove the lye. (Do paulownia wood have a high tolerance to humidity?) Yes, an extremely high tolerence. That's why they say that the bugs don't eat the clothes that are put inside a paulownian chest. The wood is breathing. (Would you say that shamisens have to be kept in a paulownian chest?) Well, I would say so. (Are paulownian wood soft?) The wood is soft, but because I press it with a lot of strength with my thumb, a knife like this becomes shorter and shorter. (How long have you been using that knife?) I've been using this one for about four years now. And for paulownia wood, we usually use this small knife. You have to keep the point of the knife thin in order to cut the wood neatly. (Does the knife fit your hands over the days you use them?) That's right. It becomes perfect through the years. So it's okay to use a knife like this when we are doing a rough job, but when it comes to detail, we only use the tip of the knife. Really, the 2 or 3 cm from the tip is the most important part. I wouldn't be able to do my job if I broke the tip. Although we do sharpen the edge.

We use grains of rice. We call it sokui. Let me show you right now. I'll be right back with the rice. It's really just the ordinary rice we eat everyday. I can tell the difference of good rice and bad right away. (Do you only use good quality rice?) It's nothing like that. Any kind of rice will do. You knead the rice with a pallet, and it spreads right away like that. You have to get used to it to make the rice stay in one place. It never stays still at first. It takes half a year to get used to it. The paste of rice made like this never comes off. (the master takes a board in his hand) You see how these three boards are stuck together? (he tries to take them apart) It won't come off how ever hard you try. If you hit it with a lot of strength, a part of the board will come off, and the three will not break apart. (he hits and breaks the board) See? It just broke in half. Can you believe it? (How do you paint the paste?) I simply place the paste around the middle of the boards, and not spread it around. Then the excess amount of paste will come out from the bottom when I put the boards together. That's why it sticks together so strong. It will be completely dry in an hour or so. (Is it weak to humidity?) Not really. But since it is a wooden board, there is a problem of interlocking grain. I have to put the boards together in a way that there won't be any interlocking grains. In that way, the they can be carved in one same direction. Or else the boards would have to be replaced every time they are carved. We also use glue. This sticks better. (But you still use sokui out of tradition?) I'd say so, yes.