A Treasured Creation - Episode Guide

Our 1st episode will feature a "bamboo basket" made from a special bamboo grown only in the Awa region of Kochi Prefecture on Shikoku. It was originally known as a "tofu basket" and was used to carry tofu home after being bought from a local store. We observe as a bamboo craftsman demonstrates the traditional techniques as he heats to change the color, bends to straighten nature's curves, and weaves bamboo sticks together to transform it into a masterwork of nostalgia.

The history of Kyoto Wire Weaving goes back more than 1,000 years. Used as kitchen utensils in Kyoto cuisine, these tools have been cherished by chefs and people in the city through the generations. Kana-ami weaver Kenichi Tsuji and his son, Toru keep the wisdom and experience of the past alive. Their goal is to produce handmade tools fit into contemporary lifestyles.

The process starts with a single sheet of metal. By hammering it becomes a beautiful saucepan form. Toshikazu Himeno, age 58, is the artisan who inherited the technique in Osaka Prefecture, Japan. The more it's pounded, the harder it is forged, and the pan will last over 50 years. The pan has supported the Japanese rich culinary culture. However, Himeno is the last surviving artisan of this pan. Will he be able to pass on his skills to the next generation? How can he continue to meet dedicated users' needs? Every day alone, he continues hammering 40,000 times. We'll focus on his untiring spirit as an artisan.

Senko Hanabi is a thing that reminds us of summer since the Edo period in Japan. Ryota Tsutsui has preserved the tradition of orange sparks for 25 years as a Senko Hanabi craftsman. However, the tradition is fading away while the domestic fireworks market shrinks and Chinese fireworks are emerging. Only 2 companies have survived in Japan now. Tsutsui has been passionate about expressing our lives within sparks by creating a big flame that contains 4 different sparks, inspired by poetic structure that divides into 4 stages of Introduction, Development, Twist, and Conclusion. He has studied compounding gunpowder and repeated twisting sensitive washi papers numerous times until dawn every day to achieve his goal. Working closely with his wife, Kyoko, his journey to discover the new demand by creating Senko Hanabi filled with all Japanese traditional goodness continues. This is a tale of people who devote their life to preserve these beautiful and fleeting sparks.

In the over 600-year old form of classical Japanese theater called Noh, wooden masks are worn by the performers. These masks have been made by wood carvers who lived and worked with the performer to create masks specific to each role. At age 52, Hideta Kitazawa is one of the few remaining artisans carrying on this tradition. While using a multitude of chisels to carve masks from blocks of cypress, he shares his thoughts on how these inanimate materials are brought to life and imbued with various emotions.

Suzuka region produces high-quality sumi ink. Kido Ito (55), an expert artisan who's made a million inksticks. A simple process, yet requires experienced judgment; depending on the weather, it can easily crack. Although this craft was dedicated to Japanese culture over a thousand years, many documents and arts have been preserved. However, the number of artisans has decreased since the transition into a digital era. "If I make it against nature, it loses the value" says Ito. This documentary showcases his skill and way of life while he strives for the ultimate black.

"It's kami (gods) that have helped us for generations." So says Sato Akihito (82), a 19th-generation Ai, or indigo, producer. Digging into a hot mound of Ai, he immediately knows what the Ai "wants." Ai makes an almost mystical color due to time, several fermentation processes and constant care. It requires a delicate balance between the power of humans and Ai, as well as dye artisans who are dedicated to the craft of Aizome, or indigo dyeing. We take a look at the incessant dialog between humans, fungus and plant matter, which epitomizes the Japanese attitude towards nature and beauty.

Yamamoto Yasuo (age 48), a 5th-generation soy sauce producer on Shodoshima Island in western Japan, started crafting wooden barrels himself. This was to preserve the traditional wooden barrel brewing method of soy sauce for the next generation. The body and flavor of soy sauce are imbued by microorganisms that inhabit the wooden barrels and breweries. However, due to industrialization, wooden barrel craftspeople have disappeared and usable wooden barrels could be lost in a few decades. Mr. Yamamoto started to reach out to fellow soy sauce brewers across Japan to encourage them to use his wooden barrels. "My job is not to make soy sauce. It is to connect our generation with the next. My ancestors have done the same." We'll take a close look at the Yamamoto and his unique way of having dual professions of crafting wooden barrels and brewing soy sauce.

At the foot of the Nikko mountains lives Yamamoto Yuichiro (age 70) and his son Jinichiro (45), who produce the hardest natural ice in Japan without relying on any machines. The season begins in late fall when they adjust the amount of spring water daily while waiting for the cold weather. If the first centimeter freezes solid, then it will make fine ice. But if it doesn't, then they have to break it and start over. Yuichiro says, "Man can only do very little to nature. So what ice artisans do is just assist the ice to grow without obstructing nature." In December, they scrape snow to help the ice to grow and keep careful watch as it slowly grows until harvest time in 3 months. We take a close look at the efforts of these men who produce "hard-to-thaw" ice in harmony with nature.

Japan's world-famous lacquerware is prized for its versatility, beauty and shine, which is due to the varnish made from the sap of Urushi trees. This sap is harvested by hand in small amounts through a meticulous process of scraping and cutting. Tobita Yuzo (86) carries on a lifelong pledge of brotherhood to the Urushi trees as one of the last few remaining harvesters. To make sure this legacy continues, Tobita plants thousands of new trees in the hopes of making a forest full of Urushi.

Hara Masaaki makes white charcoal called Kishu Binchotan in the deep forests of Wakayama Prefecture. He thinks of himself as a guardian of the ancient woods. His charcoal provides the country's top chefs with a stable, high heat source with no odor and little smoke -- an essential fuel for grilling. But now, some kilns lie abandoned. All that remains is the metallic sound of Binchotan reverberating from oak trees. Through the haze of smoke, we look at the memories of those families who've passed down their craft in the mountains.

Three generations of the Tomi family have been producing a unique kind of handmade washi paper that is blackish-brown instead of the customary white. This is achieved by something that otherwise had just gone to waste. Tomi Kazuyuki states, "My grandpa felt bad watching cedar bark being thrown out at timber mills so he devised a new method to utilize it." The family tradition incorporating all of the wilderness into their papercraft lives on in the Noto Peninsula. We take a look at this source of creation.

One of Japan's most prized textiles comes from a subtropical island where the makers still hew to the methods of 1,300 years ago. Using indigenous plants and ponds of iron-rich mud, the artisans of Amami-Oshima create luxurious silk pongee, threading the island's long history of poverty and oppression into their craft.

The Chin kiln of Kagoshima has been turning out intricate pottery for more than 400 years. The signature openwork and fine detailing was a sensation at the Paris Exposition of 1900. Now the current, 15th-generation head of the family is on a mission to develop new clay from local volcanic earth to bring out an ultimate whiteness in their Satsuma ware.

Rows of black ceramic pots sit in the sun as rice and koji malt ferment inside. For more than a year, the enzymes will turn the mash into prized amber vinegar with only the gentlest interventions from the brewers. "Every pot turns out different faces," says vinegar artisan Sakamoto Hiroaki. "We try to listen to what the magical fungi are saying." We explore the centuries-old methods behind the making of Kurozu vinegar.