STORY

Rings of Time: From the Hills of Hiroshima to the Walls of Paris

We are looking at two large oil paintings on canvas. A striking view of a temple pagoda on a hill high above the Onomichi channel leans against the wall on the floor. The second, affixed to the wall, is a more impressionistic representation of a rainy night in Tokyo titled Eki (Station).

Eki by Seiji Fujiwara

The artist, Seiji Fujiwara, explains how it took him years to learn to let go and paint freely. More and More, I view painting like making music, he says. Indeed, Eki evokes a jazz soundtrack.

The paintings are displayed in the playfully named gorakushitsu or recreation room, which serves as the lunchroom of the family-run manufacturer of fine wood veneer boards, Hiroshima Meiboku Sangyo (Hiromei), in the rural city of Fuchu, east of Hiroshima.

The birth of Hiromei in Hiroshima’s furniture capital

It is to Hiromei that Seiji, together with his uncle, devoted most of his working life.

Fuchu has a history of furniture manufacturing that dates back around 300 years. The region was blessed with a plentiful supply of paulownia wood, which became a key material in the region’s woodworking. The climate was also ideal for natural drying, which enabled craftspeople to produce precision-made wooden products with minimal warping, helping to establish the area’s reputation for fine, durable furniture. Perhaps most fortuitous, however, was its location on the historic Sekishu Kaido trade route and the Ashida River, along which timber and handcrafted furniture were shipped throughout Japan.

During Japan’s boom years after the Second World War, Fuchu furniture found itself in high demand, thanks to the popularity of “dowry furniture sets.” The families of new brides would invest in and ship sets of drawers and dressers to adorn the homes of newlyweds. Beautifully crafted furniture made of paulownia became a sought-after status symbol among the nation’s growing middle class, and manufacturing expanded rapidly to meet demand.

When Hiromei was established in 1976, with Seiji then 22 years old, it began by producing decorative natural wood veneers to cover large pieces of furniture. Over time, however, in the face of declining demand for dowry furniture sets and a shift toward smaller living spaces, HIromei shifted its focus to producing veneers for the walls and ceilings of hotels and commercial facilities such as shopping centers.

Seiji and his uncle devoted themselves to making the company a success in increasingly competitive times. As with many small Japanese companies, the key to success has been their attention to detail and uncompromising pursuit of quality. They would make monthly trips to timber auctions in Hokkaido, personally selecting logs one by one to ensure quality and suitability for slicing into shavings as thin as 0.25 mm. Logs are cut within 3 months of purchase. This ensures effective slicing, reduces the effect of UV rays, and prevents discoloration. The resulting paper-thin veneers are carefully dried before being applied to lightweight plywood, all under the keen eye of skilled staff, who look out for any blemishes or inconsistencies that might affect the final product.

All the while, Seiji continued to paint.

Taking a lateral view

As I was being shown through the Hiromei yard, a simple rest space caught my eye. Beneath a makeshift shelter was a massive table, consisting of a black chunk of timber resting on tires, surrounded by wooden chairs. It turns out that Seiji salvaged it from the waters of the Onomichi Channel; its age and provenance are unknown, but it is most likely a decades-old remnant of a landing dock.

It’s an example of Seiji’s desire to prolong its useful life – what we might call upcycling today. Although Hiromei makes efforts to keep waste to a minimum, Seiji found it troubling that much is still discarded. It’s not uncommon, he says, for as little as one-third of a log, which has often been shipped from overseas, to be used.

As the time approached when Seiji would pass the reins to his nephew, Keiki Fujiwara, he discovered a way to combine his business with his creative passion for art. And it came by taking a sideways look at Hiromei’s business.

We started gathering scraps of wood from around the factory and, through a process of bricolage, turning them into decorative pieces. A selection of these pieces is displayed on a high wall in the heart of the factory, revealing Seiji’s preference for allowing these found pieces to remain unadorned and unvarnished, to be appreciated as they are. “Just as a child is happy to find his or her unique stone in the sea, a piece of wood has its own unique value," he says.

Examining the discarded pieces of wood in the factory, Seiji was drawn to the growth rings and turned his mind to express his artistic sensibilities through these vestiges of the natural life of trees. Most wood veneers are made from slicing logs lengthways to produce a straight grain, but he challenged his employees to use their skills to slice off-cuts horizontally, preserving their rings and knots.

Interestingly, he says that exploiting growth ring patterns of wood is often considered “too much” in Japan. There seems, he says, to be a greater appreciation for these unique natural features overseas. Indeed, his piece "Radiata Blue", a wall-hanging comprising a three-dimensional collage of New Zealand Radiata Pine horizontal vaneers dyed in blue tones, was so well received at the 2021 Salon d'Art Japonais exhibition in Paris that it was awarded the Grand Prix.

Radiata Blue by Seiji Fujiwara

The keen Interest in the concept was revelatory – to Seiji as an artist and to his nephew, Keiki, who was about to take over as head of the Hiromei.

A changing of the guard

Keiki Fujiwara is part of a new generation in Japan that is taking over family-owned manufacturing businesses established during the nation's high-growth era. Many, like Keiki, are treading the fine line between honoring the legacy of the founders while adapting to increasingly competitive market conditions, and putting their stamp on the companies they have inherited.

Keiki never saw himself as the head of Hiromei. Despite being a center of manufacturing, Fuchu is very rural. As evidenced by its declining population, it is the kind of area that youngsters born in dream of escaping. For Keiki, it was to pursue a career as a musician, and he spent most of his early 20s playing in house bands that played rock 'n' roll classics in Hiroshima and Iwakuni.

After a not particularly successful stint helping at the factory, he spent a few years with a shipbuilding company before his father made it clear that he wanted him to step up and take Hiromei forward. After rediscovering the charm of wood, he took the lead in 2022 and is focusing on building the Hiromei brand.

While the production of wood veneers remains the mainstay of Hiromei’s business, in the favorable reaction to his uncle’s "Radiata Blue" he saw an opportunity to explore a more artistic avenue that would help convey the company’s philosophy of “allowing wood to reach its full potential.”

Under the watchful eye of his cousin, now retired from full-time work at the factory, Keiki set up a small workshop within the factory to focus on the production of a new line of handmade decorative pieces that built upon Seiji’s use of horizontally sliced shavings that display the growth rings and knots of trees to beautiful effect.

From art to production line

After Seiji Fujiwara retired, Yoshiyuki Teraoka, who had been working at Niromei for over a decade, was appointed as the new head of the workshop. He is assisted by two younger employees, both recent graduates from local high schools.

Teraoka doesn’t consider himself particularly artistic, but rather than telling him exactly what to do, his mentor, Seiji Fujiwara, encourages him to go with his gut and trust his emotional and aesthetic responses to the nature of wafer-thin slices of wood that he combines to create these pieces. Prototypes are shown to as many as 20 employees to include a wide range of perspectives.

While the production of the all-important wood shavings, taken from carefully selected pieces of scrap wood, is dependent upon Hiromei’s machinery, the rest of the production process is conducted by hand.

The shavings are very fragile and must be carefully affixed to traditional Japanese washi paper to work with them. The application process, done with a hot iron, is exact, requiring accuracy down to the millimeter, sometimes even one-tenth of a millimeter. Even a slight misalignment requires later time-consuming and costly adjustments, so eliminating such adjustments is a daily challenge. A deep appreciation for the characteristics of shavings taken from individual pieces of wood, including the presence of elements such as iron, is also required when selecting the most suitable stains and paints to use.

With the line still in development, a process of trial and error is key. Teraoka and his staff are continually experimenting, sharing their results with Seiji Fujiwara, as they create a production manual that will allow larger-scale production to begin. Teraoka is enjoying his new role. After years of performing essential but repetitive work, he says he feels a greater sense of job satisfaction and enjoys mentoring his younger colleagues.

Adding local color

Drawing inspiration from traditional wooden sake cups, roof tiles, and festive handheld pinwheels, the Hiromei range of wall hangings evokes classic Japanese motifs. Japanese aesthetic sensibilities are also evident in the subtle coloring, with the final finish provided by a local producer of premium furniture. They are a beautiful way to add a natural element to any modern interior.

Seiji Fujiwara has recently teamed up with an all-natural indigo dye producer based in nearby Fukuyama. Test pieces have so far been encouraging; the “Japan Blue” coloring adheres to the growth rings and knots of the wood, creating a soft, organic effect that ties the history of Fuchu’s furniture manufacturing to the textile tradition of Fukuyama, now home to some of the world’s most loved denim.

Hiromei takes center stage

Hiromei has long been one of the many unsung heroes of Japanese manufacturing. Family-run companies in the hinterland that set themselves incredibly high standards, which are not only maintained but raised, decade after decade. Companies that produce the materials used by well-known brands to build their spaces convey their value.

When reminiscing about his years working as a musician, Keiki Fujiwara confesses that he really wanted to be a frontman and vocalist. Now, by building on the legacy of his father and the artistic inspiration of Seiji, Hiromeii may yet find its place in the spotlight by introducing its new line of interior pieces to Europe and beyond.