papermaking

In 2011, I studied traditional woodblock printmaking in China, where paper originated, and have since been expanding my paper research: the history, influence across geographies, and current day collective efforts to rejuvenate and continue making.

I make my own paper, but I primarily use endangered land-based historical papers from East Asia and South East Asia. They are regionally specific
expressions, mastered for over 800 to 1000 years. Traditional crafts such as these live within the capacity of the earth by design and necessity. We must glean wisdom from these ways of being, in response to the climate crisis.

The use of these natural materials directly connects with the conceptual concerns in my artwork of the precarity, and inherent instability of our environments and internal worlds. The papers are uniquely delicate and fragile looking, yet strong — a tenacity that captures the themes of survivorship in my work.

Hatanaka harvesting kōzo at Kashiki Seishi, Japan.

Ayumi Hamada of Kashiki Seishi harvesting kōzo (mulberry tree branches) for washi at her mill’s farm.

Hatanaka harvesting kōzo (mulberry tree branches) for washi at Kashiki Seishi.

Hatanaka peeling kōzo.

Kōzo inner bark laid out for traditional method of cleaning at Osaki Seishijo in Tosa, a very significant town and region for washi.

Kōzo pulp mixing in vat at Kashiki Seishi.

Hatanaka holding washi-making frame at Niyodo River, Kōchi, Japan.

Hatanaka drying small batch washi made in Niyodo River, Kōchi, Japan.

Straining small batch washi in Niyodo River, Kōchi, Japan.

Hatanaka and master washi maker Tatsuyuki Kitaoka moving pressed washi to dry.

Kimie Tomokusa making washi at Ino-chō Paper Museum, Kōchi, Japan.

Paper as textile

My process-driven patchworked paper textiles honour the Japanese ethic of ‘mottainai,’ “too good to waste.” I save my paper scraps that are cut off during the sewing process, and integrate them into my other works, thereby connecting all of my artworks over time. Visually,
I often reference ancient mythologies centered around fish that speak about our vulnerable environments and our personal persistence through difficulty. Sometimes I integrate paper rice bags, gesturing to the generational cultural significance of food. I also repurpose my previous printmaking block matrixes, and by good fortune use vintage washi from Kashiki Seishi, some over 50 years old. I use a traditional technique of starching the washi using ‘konnyaku’ (devil’s tongue root) which transforms the paper into a textile that is more flexible and durable for sewing. In this way, I infuse many layers of history in my work.

Washi wearables hanging in Hatanaka’s studio window at Kashiki Seishi, Japan.

Hatka hanging wearables in studio window at Kashiki Seishi, Japan.

Hatanaka sewing washi wearable during her residency at Kashiki Seishi.

printmaking

“In her linocut print work,
Hatanaka often embeds impressions in the paper to convey topographical imageries that resemble chiseled snow, stone, water, earthquakes, [and gestures of movement across space and time]. These organic forms use pattern-making and repetition to reference mental and emotional geographies, as much as physical ones.”

— Maude Johnson

Hatanaka with linocut printing block.

Hatanaka working on linocut printing block.

Hatanaka holding up gyotaku print in Kōchi, Japan.

Hatanaka in her washi “Ino-chō Fishing Vest”, holding a fresh fish to be used for gyotaku printmaking in Kōchi, Japan.