Not exactly an antique yet but quickly fading from memories is the formerly ubiquitous kitchen tool, the Katsuo Kezuri-Ki, the humble bonito shaver.

Primarily used in the preparation of dashi (fish soup stock), bonito has been used in this form since the 15Th century when it was found that it had the ability to preserve well. The way this was done was by simmering the fish first, then smoking it repeatedly. After that it was placed outdoors in the sun on racks to dry further and have the tar from the smoking process removed. Then it was stored in a controlled room where natural mold could form, further drying and enhancing the flavor while increasing its nutritional value. Scrape the mold and dry it in the sun and repeat again and again. At this point these chunks of fish have transformed into rock hard blocks called hon-bushi that will last indefinitely if stored correctly. I have an older friend in San Francisco that still has his grandmother’s kezuri-ki with a still usable hunk of bonito in the drawer; it has got to be around a hundred years old. But, alas, with the advent of cellophane wrapped katsuobushi (the shavings), who needs the old inconvenient shaver? I mean, you actually have to use physical labor to create one of your ingredients for dinner (who am I kidding, your just going to use a dashi-no-moto packet and skip the katsuobushi and kombu step anyway, I’ve been guilty of it).

The reason I’m interested in this bonito shaver is twofold, since it sort of combines two of my loves; cooking (I cook in a Japanese Restaurant) and woodworking. How does it do this? The shaver is actually an inverted form of a kanna (Japanese woodworking plane) with the dai (wood plane body) mounted upside down in a box above a drawer to collect the shavings as can be seen in exploded form to the left. This example is purportedly from the 1950′s and is unused, with a stamp marking it from Ninben in the Nihonbashi area of Tokyo (you may have heard of the slightly famous bridge from which the area gets it’s name). Before I sold my planes so I could move to Hawaii, I always wanted to try shaving some katsuo on them, the only problem, I couldn’t find any hunks of hon-bushi, even in SF’s Japantown. Now that I’m halfway across the Pacific I probably could get my hands on a chunk, but then I’d need to buy a plane or one of these kezuri-ki, but hey, that’s not such a bad idea. You should get one too.

I was perusing YouTube the other day and happened upon this interesting video about Karakuri tansu (not to be confused with Karakuri Ningyou dolls; that will maybe be a future post). Albeit this is not an antique, it is based on classic tansu design, which definitely had it’s share of trick locks, false drawers, hidden boxes, etc… Check it out.

I saw this tansu on eBay and wanted to talk about it due to the fact that it depicts another regional style perfectly. Tansu production came late to Nihonmatsu (literally, two pine trees) and the area was primarily active in the mid-Meiji era. But what they lacked for in timing, they made up with uniqueness, as they were basically uninfluenced in design by their tansu producing neighbors, Yonezawa, Sendai, and Niigata.

Nihonmatsu tansu are some of the largest clothing chests made, with a typical size of over 43 inches wide and heights sometimes over 47 inches. Always a chest on chest design with the primary woods being Sugi (Japanese Cedar) for the carcass and Keyaki (Japanese Elm) for the drawer faces (this example listed the drawers as being Matsu (pine)). These chests typically had Warabite (bracken hand) type handles with intricate incised toshi-zagane (backplates), this depicted piece also has Sakura (cherry blossom) and Matsu protective plates (I don’t know the Japanese name for this type of handle protective plates, so if any of you out there do, please contact me).

Another distinctive characteristic of the Nihonmatsu tansu was the unique jomae (lockplate) with double kikuza-tegakejo (floriate button) latches as depicted here. One button was a sliding latch (karajo), and the other was a single action lock (omotejo) requiring a key, and could be used separately. This example shows a typical Nihonmatsu sliding lock cover of brass depicting the lucky Daikoku’s mallet (Daikoku is a god that is associated with wealth and agriculture) as well as some brass depictions of koi and a money bag at the center.

Tansu from this region had two types of finishes (nuri). Kijiro, which was a laborious process of multiple layers of clear lacquer (urushi) and polishings over a natural or stained-wood surface (depicted here), or Tame nuri which was an opaque lacquer which would hide the open grained wood and was equally laborious to apply.

One last unique attribute to Nihonmatsu tansu was the atypical use of the carcass wood for the interior drawer faces in the door compartment, as opposed to the usual consistent use of the same wood for all the drawer faces (hidden or not) found on all other types of tansu.

Te Kagami are hand mirrors that most of you have seen depicted in Geisha houses when the Geishas were putting on their makeup. They usually had their own bako (box, I’m not sure if there is a distinct word for this compartment so I’ll go with box, as seen in the first picture) and were set on a little stand so the ladies could use them. Primarily made out of bronze that was highly polished on one side (see picture for example of reflection), and highly figurative on the reverse. I don’t know a whole lot about these but of course I like their historical use and value. What I do know is that these were prized possessions, with a historical importance. The Yata No Kagami (the sacred mirror) is one part of the three sacred treasures of Japan, the Imperial Regalia (Sanshyu no Jingi). The regalia consists of the Kusunagi (sword), the Yasakani no magatama (jewel, or necklace of jewels) and the Yata no Kagami (mirror). They all have their own significance but the mirror represented honesty or wisdom. I think this meaning is kind of perverted in the use by Geisha because the makeup they wore represented an ideal woman, and if you needed a lot of makeup to become that ideal woman, how much of one were you before (but that’s a completely separate discussion). The reason why the mirror is included in the regalia is that it was hung from a tree to lure Amaterasu (the sun Goddess) out of a cave, and she is who the divine family are direct descendants of (generally speaking, this site is about antiques and not religion and lineology, I could go into that in depth but this is not the place). Basically the mirror was important upon many levels, and if you are into collecting, I think a fine example of a kagami set in a stand resting upon a nice Isho-dansu (clothing chest) would be a beautiful arrangements for your home. Look into them.