Shizuoka City, once known as Sunpu, is the birthplace of Suruga Take Sensuji Zaiku (Suruga Bamboo Thousand-Line Craft). This region has long produced high-quality bamboo. Excavations of baskets from the Yayoi period confirm that bamboo craftsmanship has deep roots here. In the early Edo period, it is said that basket pillows used in inns along the highways during the sankin kōtai processions became popular among feudal lords, sparking the culture that developed into today’s Suruga bamboo craft.

When I first encountered this craft, I was struck by its intricacy and refinement—techniques I had never seen before. Bamboo strips, shaved as thin and round as possible, seemingly numbering in the thousands, are woven into beautiful forms through various assembly methods. Each piece instantly reveals the painstaking labor behind it.

Miyabi Andon Seisakusho operates in a quiet residential neighborhood of Shizuoka City. Shigeyasu Sugiyama, a certified Traditional Craftsperson interviewed here, is the third son of the Sugiyama family. After graduating high school, he studied sales and customer service in Osaka and Fukui before joining the family business in 2000. Around that time, veteran craftsman Tetsuo Watanabe joined the company, becoming his mentor and teaching him bamboo craft techniques from scratch. Today, Shigeyasu continues the family tradition together with his elder brother Masatoshi (company president) and his second brother Takahide (also a Traditional Craftsperson).

The workshop is filled with bamboo lined up in every corner, with shelves and walls storing a variety of tools. Alongside readily available blades, some custom-made tools are used to achieve specific results for each product.

One defining feature of Suruga bamboo craft is that each strip is carefully processed into smooth, rounded shapes, without sharp edges. This technique is said to have originated when bamboo cages were used for birds and insects, ensuring the creatures would not be injured. Indeed, the surfaces of these works are incredibly smooth, with virtually no sharp points.

When we think of this, it’s clear that the tradition itself was born out of simple kindness—and it’s this warmth that continues to be felt in each handmade piece.

Creating these round bamboo strips requires careful, time-consuming work. The process begins with shaving off the bamboo’s outer skin with a knife. Since the outer and inner layers of bamboo have different qualities, the thickness of the skin removed must be adjusted according to the intended design. The angle of the blade, the pressure applied, and the flex of the edge must all be felt with great sensitivity.

Next comes kowari—splitting the bamboo into finer strips. A blade is set on the workbench to slice the bamboo into narrow sections, requiring skill and intuition. Then follows higo-biki, the process of repeatedly pulling the split strips through a special holed tool to round and thin them. Each strip must be adjusted to the appropriate size for the intended piece, a task requiring delicate judgment.

Although Sugiyama demonstrates these steps with ease, he explains that it takes years to master. It’s not just about making them thinner—every action must anticipate later stages. This is indeed a craft that cannot be learned overnight.

From there, the strips are bent against heated metal tubes and inserted into drilled holes to be woven together. Each process requires subtle adjustments, and every detail affects the quality of the final piece. The completed bamboo works possess a remarkable smoothness and even a sense of translucence, combining suppleness with strength—durable items that can be used for decades.

Sugiyama explains that Japanese traditional crafts have always produced tools suited to the seasons. Bamboo items, in particular, bring a sense of coolness, making them most valuable in the heat of summer.

“Our bamboo bags, for example, are not meant to be shown off constantly. They should be stored away until summer truly arrives, when the heat becomes unbearable. Only then do you take them out, and that’s when their beauty as summer crafts shines most. To refrain from using them in autumn or winter, and to look forward to bringing them out again the following summer—that’s true refinement.”

Throughout the interview, Sugiyama spoke warmly about bamboo craft, sprinkling in jokes in his strong Shizuoka dialect. Perhaps owing to his customer service training in Osaka, his words were lively and engaging. Meeting the maker himself made me realize once again how much personality and intention are woven into each piece. It is not simply a product of “a Shizuoka craftsman,” but rather, unmistakably, a work made by “Mr. Sugiyama of Miyabi Andon.”

“I believe traditional crafts should be things that are used, not just displayed. When people use them, they come to realize that there is a maker behind each piece. That, I think, is what truly preserves traditional crafts.”