ART REVIEW
Japanese fishermen's coats open window on past

•	'Pattern and Purpose: Japanese Fishermen's Coats from Awaji Island' 10:30 a.m.-4 p.m., Mondays through Fridays, noon-4 p.m. Sundays through Nov. 22 The University of Hawai'i-Manoa Art Gallery 956-6888

Only four museums were selected to host this fine exhibition. The UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History and University of California, Santa Barbara art museum organized the exhibit.

The coats on display, from the 19th and early 20th century, were crafted on Awaji Island between the main islands of Honshu and Shikoku in central Japan. Many of their creators are dead, yet the intensity of their love, devotion, secrecy and competitiveness lives on in these garments.

The main purpose of the sashiko no donza was to keep the fishermen dry and warm. Although born of necessity, they evolved into works of pride and beauty. Customarily made by the seafarers' wives and mothers, they made use of three layers of recycled indigo-dyed kimono cloth. The layers were cut into garment parts and basted around the edges. The intricate sashiko quilting and stitching patterns were then mapped out and pressed into all three layers with a hera, a spatula made of deer antler).

White cotton thread was stitched in complex decorative patterns through the pieces, which were then hand-stitched together — body, collar, front overlap and sleeves. The knots from the threads were woven into the fabric so they would not be exposed.

The inside of the coat had to look as good as the outside. The more elaborate coats, made for ship captains, became status symbols worn only on special occasions. Each coat took six to 12 months to complete.

A great deal of planning and time went into the design of each coat. Women were guarded and competitive about their patterns. Large and small motifs, inspired by nature, were sown tightly together in eighth- to half-inch spacing. The elegant running stitch patterns acquired names: bamboo grass, hemp leaf, chevron, pine bark and persimmon flower.

Unlike embroidery that is done on an even weave in which the threads can be counted for spacing, sashiko is done on a dense weave. The spacing (without the present-day use of stencils) is intuitive. The delineation stitches from one design to the next are either a regular embroidery chain stitch or a cross stitch. Careful consideration was also given to the extra wear of the seat region, which was outlined and filled in with densely spaced stitches.

"I was so pleased to see the workmanship," says Lorraine Tokuyama, a master teacher with 20 years experience in sashiko. "Sashiko began in the fishing villages. These women couldn't afford to buy new garments, but they did the best they could with what they had: time and thread. They were clever and creative in trying to keep their husbands warm. After much patching and beyond further wear, coats were cut up and used for dish cloths."

A few tattered sashiko no donza in the exhibit show signs of hard lives at sea. These coats were my favorites. Displaying them with their more sophisticated counterparts only added to their charm. One can just imagine going out on a cold, damp morning wrapped in a coat stitched with so much care and tenderness.

The exhibit also features fishing photographs from about 1890, a fishing banner for an abundant catch, octopus pots, a sewing box and tracing tool, a straw apron, rice-straw shoes, educational story boards and contemporary photographs of Awaji Island.

"Sometimes we are hypercritical," says Tokuyama. "If you look at the sashiko no donza closely, they are not perfect, but at a distance they are. The main idea is consistency, in both the stitching and the spacing of the stitches. When I teach sashiko, I teach traditional patterns, with 10 stitches to an inch."

She noted how soothing the repetitious movement of stitching can be, and says this was probably a comfort to the women waiting for their loved ones to return.

"A lot of love goes in there, and somehow they might have felt they were protecting that person from harm."

Tokuyama, ever generous with her time and materials, will lead a hands-on demonstration of sashiko techniques noon to 4 p.m. Nov. 10 at the art gallery. Supplies will be free of charge. She will guide you through a few basic stitches on a six-inch square piece of fabric with a backing. Each square can be finished into a coaster. She will also have potholders and scissor cases for sale.

Temari Center for Asian and Pacific Arts offers custom sashiko classes (minimum of 10 participants), reasonably priced, for those who wish to experience a more comprehensive experience with Tokuyama. Phone Ann Asakura at 735-1860 for details.

The exhibition catalog is available for purchase.

The video, "Bountiful Fishing Festival Iwaya Shrine, Awaji Island, 1991," shown outside the gallery, demonstrates the significance of the sashiko no donza in contemporary society.

•	'breakfastlunchanddinner' Jason Teraoka Through Nov. 15 11 a.m.- 5 p.m. Wednesdays and Thursdays, 11 a.m.-7 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays workspace 732-2300

Seventy-eight sketchbook entries (mixed media on paper), dated Sept. 9, 2001, through Sept. 25, 2002, line a wall in three rows. Here you can steal a look at how an artist, through sketches, digests everyday life.

"I started the sketchbook right before 9/11," Teraoka says. Initially, he had no intention of showing it. "I gave myself no rules. It was important to be loose. I process the world though drawings. They help me decipher things, and they become therapeutic." He was surprised to see them installed on the wall, considering the sketches had always been in a spiral bound book form.

"I tuned into the dialogue between them; there is a dialect I have figured out," he says. "They were all over the place, but not having any planned path swept away old ties. I enjoyed how they became a single piece."

The sketches are simply framed with the holes from the spiral binding intact. This gives them an immediate and more approachable quality.

Some of the sketches are disturbing, while others — the more abstract images — delicious. Sketches No. 25 and 31, white and black figures painted on brilliant red backgrounds, are striking and haunting. Although dark, the minimal abstract No. 41 manages to employ a few yellow, organic cell-shaped rays of hope.

One of three 3-D pieces in the show, "Ship of Fools" (wood, aluminum, stainless steel and enamel) has five small, carved blue figures lined up on the deck of a stainless steel boat. Each androgynous figure has a number on its chest. The figure closest to the edge, No. 3, has no head, its arms replaced by red propellers.

"They are stuck on the ship," says Teraoka, "and represent the blind masses, numbered with no faces. We go along blindly and then catch ourselves. Our realities were so messed up after 9/11. It's really hard to discern truth on a personal level. It is hard to keep your eyes open and clear and try to see things as best as you can for what they are."