Accidental Kokeshi Collector
On collecting children's toys but not for my children...
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Aside from a paltry stack of Garbage Pail Kids trading cards I scraped together in elementary school I can’t say I’m much of a toy collector. Beanie Babies, Barbie dolls, and Funko Pop! bobbleheads do not appeal to me enough to amass a collection for display. My kids went through a Pokemon phase, filling multiple binders with “rare” cards, but otherwise there has been no one toy (aside from maybe Pixar Cars cars) that they collected. The only thing I purchase without concern for how many we already own are books. In fact that’s exactly what I was doing when I bought my first kokeshi.
Even before moving to Japan, I knew I wanted to visit the book district in Tokyo. Jimbōchō is a neighborhood densely packed with as many as 200 antiquarian, new and used bookstores. Tucked all throughout are book binders, publishers, universities and coffee shops. In fact the neighborhood was designed so that most of the book stores are situated on the south side of any given street so that the books themselves are not exposed to direct sunlight. Be still my I-want-to-be-a-librarian-some-day heart!
The only thing I purchase without concern for how many we already own are books.
On my first trip to Jimbōchō I noticed that a handful of the shops on one of the main strips had small bookcases set up just outside their main entrances. At the foot of each were several wooden crates. Positioned at about shin level, the crates were filled to capacity with dozens of dolls. Ranging in size from a can of soda to the length of a forearm, each doll was the same in that they were all made of wood. All had spherical heads attached to cylindrical torsos. None had appendages. Each was hand painted with floral or simple line designs and sweet spare faces. All were old and quite literally in the discount bin. I stooped down for a closer look and it was love at first sight. I brought five dolls home that very day.
Kokeshi are traditional Japanese folk dolls carved from wood. They have likely been around since the start of the Edo Period in the 1600s though more recent history suggests they first appeared in the onsen (hot springs) towns in the Tohoku region of northern Japan in the 1800s. Originally they were crafted as toys for children from scraps left over from other woodworking projects but they soon became popular souvenirs. The dolls I saw in Jimbōchō were traditional kokeshi, meaning they follow one of 12 styles specific to a region in Japan. There is a second catagory of kokeshi called modern creative that began to emerge after WWII and there is no limit to the artistic and creative license artisans have. (Notice the Star Wars Stormtrooper kokeshi in the lead photo?)
Last month, I left my home at 7 a.m. to take a two-hour train ride to visit one of the last kokeshi makers in all of Tokyo. A skilled woodworker and craftsman, Kuninobu Okura san makes all manner of wooden objects for the home and beautiful toys. When it comes to his signature style of kokeshi, he and his wife, Mrs. Okura, are a team. Together for over 50 years, he crafts them and she paints them. No one kokeshi that he makes can be fully complete without her. 🥰
Okura san’s kokeshi are modern creative and made from a single block of wood. All of Okura san’s kokeshi have a ring necklace while some have big poofy stylized hair while others sport what looks to me like oversized church lady hats.
During the visit to his Hachioji workshop, Mr. and Mrs. Okura were exceedingly gracious, patient and kind. He demonstrated how he uses a lathe to forge the kokeshi figures, creating one in less than five minutes. Mrs. Okura demonstrated her painting technique with a steady hand, warm smile and the finest of paint brushes. Okura san is an octogenarian and neither he nor Mrs. Okura have an apprentice. Once he stops making them, his unique style will be no more. I am grateful for the time I was able to spend with them both.
Since my trip to Jimbōchō I have collected exactly 22 kokeshi. Most are from flea markets like the Oedo Antique Market, and a small few were gifted to me by friends who share the same enthusiasm for kokeshi as I. So far I’ve visited one of two kokeshi themed cafes that I know of and plan to visit the other later this summer. I’ve fallen down countless rabbit holes on the internet about how to care for and store kokeshi. (Apparently they should be stored in an enclosed cabinet away from both fluorescent and sunlight.) I doubt I’ll ever be at the handle-with-white-cotton-gloves-only stage but I am learning to identify kokeshi by the artist’s signature on the bottom. And it is my hope that the spring of 2023 will find me wandering up and down the vendors’ booths at the National Kokeshi Doll Competition in Shiroishi City. (But only after I go to the annual Sweet Potato Expo 🍠🍠🍠. Yes. There is a sweet potato exposition. And yes I love sweet potatoes!)
Despite all that I am learning, I do not seek out kokeshi to amass a huge and enviable collection, rather I simply choose kokeshi that I like. Really, that’s my only criteria. That said, never in a million years did I think I’d be an adult woman collecting dolls of all things. Though I suppose I ought to be grateful that it was kokeshi that caught my eye and not Trolls.
YSK: The trip to Kuninobu Okura san’s workshop in Hachioji was organized by Telescope Tokyo! If you’re in Tokyo check it out!
Also: If you want to delve into Kokeshi a bit more, I found Manami Okazaki’s book fascinating.
Not only have I never heard of kokeshi (they are adorable), but also, Jimbōchō! 200 bookstores in one neighborhood? Putting it on my life list this very second.
Thank you for sharing this. I have seen them but knew very little about them. This was fascinating to read. I so appreciated the links embedded. I could also easily see someone spending a lot of time in the antiquarian book shops.