Introduction

About a year ago, I received a call from Hosoo-san, the 12th generational CEO of a kimono firm. “Come to Kyoto,” he said. What followed altered the course of my life forever. Those initial weeks were indescribable. ‘Enlightenment’ is the closest I can come. My soul reignited, I glimpsed the world from a new perspective.

Now, my startup is based in Kyoto, a city where tradition and craftsmanship blend seamlessly. This article recounts my learnings on this journey, a tale of passion for craft and the profound beauty of Kyoto unveiled.

Section 1: The Essence of Craft in Japan

In Japan, craft carries a weight unlike anywhere else in the world. Before I came to Japan, I, too, had the same perception of craft that most people are familiar with — handicrafts from platforms like Etsy. But the moment I set foot in Kyoto, I felt its 1200 years of history carried within every craft — from the luxurious gold-threaded kimonos to the intricate hand-pressed washi paper. Here, craft transcends its physical form; it’s an art form intertwined with centuries of history and tradition.

HOSOO kimono as part of the Hagoromo performance

The country boasts over 200 designated crafts, with Kyoto being the birthplace of 74 of them. Unlike art, craft here is not confined to museum displays but meant to be embraced in everyday life. Every craft is intimately linked to some form of experience, either directly or indirectly. Take, for instance, the revered tea ceremony, a cornerstone of Japanese culture. It seamlessly brings together various crafts, from the elegant kimono and meticulously crafted matcha bowls to the intricately designed tea caddies. In Kyoto, this fusion of functionality and artistry defines the very essence of the craft experience.

Section 2: The Interconnected Craftsmanship Ecosystem

Craft in Japan operates as a finely woven ecosystem, where craftsmen depend on one another to bring their creations to life. Take, for example, the production of a single kimono, this intricate process involves over 20 meticulous steps, each managed by different master craftsman. From the delicate weaving of silk threads to the precise art of dyeing, their collaborative efforts culminate in a garment of unparalleled beauty.

Hosoo-san, used to joke that if two craftsmen didn’t get along well, nothing would be made at the end of the day

However, it is both a blessing and a curse that the true value of craft lies in its process. The essence of craft, as Hosoo-san often emphasized, resides in the process rather than the final product. Consider the kimono-making process once more, with 20 craftsmen meticulously contributing to the final product. Each plays a unique role in crafting an exquisite garment, and in their hands, threads and fabrics become a narrative.

Craft tells a story that should be shared and celebrated. If people could only grasp the dedication and collaboration behind each creation, they would become patrons of craft, preserving traditions for generations to come. But the challenge lies in bridging this gap between craftsmanship and the end consumer. In a world predominantly driven by fast culture, fast fashion, fast food, fast internet… how often do people pause to delve into the stories behind the objects they interact with on a daily basis?

Section 3: The Craft Crisis

Beyond the intricate beauty and collaborative spirit that define traditional Japanese craft lies a pressing issue — a craft crisis that has cast a shadow over centuries-old traditions. The decline of craftsmanship isn’t limited to one craft; it’s a systematic problem affecting all traditional crafts in Japan.

Consider the kimono, a symbol of Japanese culture and craftsmanship. Over the past three decades, this emblematic garment has seen a significant loss, with its market share plummeting by a staggering 90%. This isn’t just a decline in sales; it’s a reflection of a broader challenge that traditional craftsmen face.

Craft market is shrinking in Japan (kimono market witnessed a 90% decline in the past 30 years)

The kimono’s decline is emblematic of a deeper issue within the craft ecosystem. Craftsmanship in Japan operates within a delicate ecosystem, where each artisan relies on the other. For instance, the exquisite silk threads woven into kimonos depend on skilled silk producers, and the demand for traditional designs relies on master dyers and craftsmen. When one part of this intricate web weakens, the entire system falters.

This isn’t merely an economic crisis — it’s a crisis of culture and heritage. The skills passed down through generations are at risk of being lost forever. The decline in the kimono industry is symptomatic of the broader challenges faced by all traditional crafts in Japan, from pottery to lacquerware to papermaking.

While the decline is disheartening, there is hope on the horizon. Craftsmen are not alone, business leaders, local governments, collectors, and technologists are now coming together to create a plan for craft, adapting them to modern times without compromising their essence. The future of these crafts hinges on our ability to appreciate the intricate web of talent and tradition that sustains them and support their continued evolution.

Section 4: Bringing 300-year-old Craft On-Chain

The urgency in Hosoo-san’s voice was palpable, his words echoing the precarious state of craft in Japan. It was this sense of impending loss that drew me to Kyoto in the first place. I recall his words vividly:

“Craft is like the Titanic, sinking, all the craftsmen still go to their atelier every morning carrying years of history and insights, but they have no idea what to do.”

Yet, I also recall his optimism. His Zen and steadfast belief that not only would we find a solution to the craft crisis, but we would usher in a new renaissance for craft in Kyoto, much like how Florence ushered in the renaissance for art. I went to Kyoto because I sensed an opportunity that we might be able to do something meaningful with craft and Web3.

As someone straddling the digital and physical worlds, I envision a future where technology seamlessly intertwines with physical experiences. Web2 brought us online, and now Web3 is grounding us, connecting us to our surroundings. The future lies in embedding technology within physical objects and experiences, a future I aim to usher into the world of craft.

Generative craft using AI, Gen-art, Phygital NFT

Imagine a world where the essence of craft, the stories woven into every creation, can be seamlessly shared with the global audience. Blockchain technology, for instance, can be used to trace the provenance of each craft, allowing consumers to connect with the artisans, materials, and processes behind each creation. This transparency not only fosters a deeper appreciation for the craft but also ensures fair compensation for the craftsmen, revitalizing the ecosystem.

Section 5: The Traditional Blockchain

In a serendipitous meeting with Housai-san, a 16th-generation pottery maker, I found myself at the crossroads of ancient traditions and modern technology, realizing that our concept of bringing 300-year-old craft on-chain might not be as far-fetched as it initially seemed.

During my visits to his workshops, I had the opportunity to engage Housai-san in a discussion about blockchain. At first, I was apprehensive, thinking it would be challenging to explain such a digital concept to someone so deeply rooted in the physical world of craftsmanship. However, I was in for a pleasant surprise — Housai-san grasped the concept of blockchain better than I ever could have imagined.

He revealed a traditional practice where signed wooden boxes, known as “hakogaki,” served as their blockchain, carrying not only the work of craft but also its provenance. Craftsmen would sign their names on these boxes, much like transactions recorded on a digital ledger. When the time came for a collector to sell a craft work, they would not only pass on the craft but also the original box, which would then receive an additional layer of boxes bearing the collector’s signature. Over time, these wooden boxes grew, encapsulating the entire history of the craft.

This was the Aha moment, highlighting a timeless truth — human behavior seldom undergoes fundamental changes. Despite the boom and bust of Web3, the technology we know today will, to future generations, resemble these wooden boxes. What we are creating on the blockchain is, in essence, a modern form of capturing provenance, albeit vastly more efficient and secure.

This revelation reinforced the idea that bridging tradition and technology, the past and the future, is not only possible but essential in preserving the rich heritage of Japanese craftsmanship. It reaffirmed my belief in the potential of blockchain technology to provide a modern link to tradition, ensuring that the stories of each craft are carried forward, cherished, and shared with the world.

Conclusion: Crafting the Future

In closing, the craft of Kyoto is a living testament to the seamless integration of tradition and technology. Its enduring legacy, spanning 1200 years, is not rooted in stagnation but in the continuous adaptation to modern times.

As the world turns its back on Web3, these craftsmen, with their unwavering commitment to the values of transparency and collaboration, have not lost faith. Together, they are forging a future where heritage is not merely preserved but cherished and shared, ushering in an era where the past and the future coalesce in harmonious progression.

I firmly believe that the solution to the craft crisis lies in the fusion of tradition and technology, a bridge between the past and the future. By preserving the essence of tradition while embracing modern technology, we give traditional craft a place in the modern world, and we give Web3 a soul.

Weaving Centuries | Bringing 300-year-old Craft On-chain

HAKO | 箱