Editors note: this article originally appeared in the October 2013 issue of
The kshido (a latticed form) has been around since ancient times in Japanese temples. It has been used for centuries to divide the interior and exterior, as well as as a room divider.
In the last century, the use of these lattice-style panels in contemporary housing has flourished in many parts and places. Kshi-do evolved in style and designs immensely, especially entrance doors. Because of its origin in history and its place in ancient temple entrances, today these rolling doors represent to some extent a familys higher social status.
Problem solving. The dimensions of the four panels can be determined by drawing on the chalkboard.
I remember seeing kshi-do in all sizes, with shoji and lattice, in the 1950s. However, my master said hed also seen oilpaper used. Oilpaper was used to cover exterior doors and windows before glass was popularized in Western societies. Because of the predominant style of the Western house (which had a very short roof overhang) the exterior doors and windows were exposed to rain and snow. Oilpaper allowed light to pass through, while retaining some moisture and water.
In Japan, oilpaper was rare. I had never seen it. Because the Japanese house overhang was commonly much deeper than its Western counterpart, doors and windows were more protected from rain and snow. The Japanese also use the same white shoji papers for all other sliding doors, partitions, and dividers. Today, Japanese entry kshi-do use glass in place of paper.
Ripping stiles. To rip the Alaskan cedar plank’s stiles, a gagari saw is used.
I believe it was in the late 1800s that common flat glass was introduced to Japan so using glass in a Japanese house started not too long ago. The combination of the Japanese craftsmans wisdom and ingenuity made it possible to apply glass to the traditional doors without changing or destroying the original form and structure.
Home
I emigrated to America in 1958 and returned to Japan for my first visit in 1969. I then saw that Japan had undergone a great face-lift during those 11 years. A big concrete highway resembling a gigantic serpent meandered through the middle of Tokyo. I did not see much subtle regimentation in the change. It was not only in Tokyo but all the way into the deep countryside. Many things seemed to have changed, but many things were also changed just for the sake.
Smooth inside. Smoothen the inside of the stiles with the roku-daikana.
My brother had a new house, and the entrance with kshi-do looked very nice and neat with a dark wood grain. To my surprise, the entrance door was not made of wood. The lattice was entirely aluminum. My brother was looking at me. No one is still making or using the Kshi-do with wooden materials. It would be too expensive and its now much easier to clean, he said with a big smile on his face, as if telling me I was way behind modern Japanese culture. My body was filled with sadness, but I don’t think my brother understood why.
All at once. The lattice pieces are clamped together and marked for length.
Japan suffered a terrible food shortage during World War II. City dwellers took their possessions and exchanged them for rice, potatoes, or other food. Farmers eventually became wealthy. The war was finally over and the new government soon freed the farmers from their feudal-like system through agrarian reform.
This was the first time that common farmers had become suddenly very wealthy in Japanese history. Now they want to live like rich landowners. The farmers began to renovate their houses with new entrance doors and exterior shoji.
Learning Experience
Two mortises, one chisel. A double-bladed chisel is used to chop the paired mortises in the stiles.
In a small village near Tokyo, my master and I were working during that period, and my first day as an apprentice was at the farmer Magobeis house. These changes were made by him first. Many other farmers soon followed his example. His home had a large wooden door that looked like a Western barn door. It was equipped with two wooden wheels measuring 18 cm in diameter and running in a wide grooved track. In the right corner there was a small door.
Mortising with a double chisel.
Often one finds this door with wooden panels, however, Magobeis had a short lattice sliding door with white shoji paper to let light through. This door is known as kugurido, or go-through-door. First we removed the large door and reformed the large opening to a 6 x 6 entrance. The head of Magobeis household then went into the storehouse and returned with several Sawara-itawari.
Sawara wood is closely related to the Hinoki family of cypresses. It has a yellow heart and a pleasant sweet smell. Itawari were planks of wood that used to be a Japanese standard, with a thickness of 1-320 cm and sometimes 1-15 cm, and of random width and length, commonly 6 or longer.
I helped Magobei, the farmer, bring down the planks from his attic. There I cleaned off the dust and laid them down side by side on a straw mat. Every one of them was clean and clear, without any defect. He said he had sliced them more than 30 years ago for the entrance door. He had plenty of that material for the two kshi-do.
Not square. To match the bead below and the bevel above, the shoulder of the dividing line is angled.
I do not remember much of the beginning of my apprenticeship; I just kept myself busy moving non-stop and made myself useful at any time, any moment. However, I can recall the end of my day; I was exhausted and had accumulated mounds plane shavings that were pleasant and sweet.
Danger Of Distraction
Cutting flush. The vertical shoulders of the tenon are sawn.
After Magobeis kshi-do, my master and I made many pairs for houses in the village and nearby small towns during the next few years. I remember one incident very clearly. It was hot and sunny. A three-day village festival was taking place and the young village boys and girls were wearing clean yukata or summer kimonos. They were mostly between 16 and 17 years old. I was working with a sweat under the hot sun; honestly, I did not want to work that day. I was making 110 cm x 310 cm through-mortises on lattice; I had to make 69 of them.
Groove for glass. To form a narrow groove, the shakurikana (plow plane), is used.
I was using my masters 110 cm-mortise chisel because I did not yet have my own. It was a beautiful, short-used, and well-loved chisel. I was mortising five pieces at the same time and the lattice pieces were quite thin; it seemed all so fragile in which to make through-mortises. The chisel stuck in my middle of work. I reached down and pressed my right hand flat on the five lattices, keeping my palm open. I grabbed the chisel-handle with my left hand tightly and yanked it out. The chisel came out and at that moment the sharp edge gouged out the middle of my forearm.
The chisel was still in my hand with a little piece of flesh on the cutting edge. Blood oozed from the fresh wound. I immediately pounded fine sawdust into the wound, then ripped my shirt to expose the bottom and taped my forearm.
No matter what, I could not waste any time. Even though I was only 20-30 meters away, I knew that my master knew where my chisel was stuck. As if he were looking in a mirror, he could see all my movements and how I used tools. I am sure he knew that I tore my shirt and wrapped my arm with it.
I could not spend any time with my wound. If I did, he would shout at me out loud, What are you doing!? Then, if he discovered what happened, there would be unpleasant consequences. I tried to act like I had bad splinters. Then I quickly proceeded to hammer the chisel with normal strength. If I eased my pounding, he would detect my condition.
The wound began to make a strong sound and I could hear my heart beating. I was 17 years of age, and I can still recall it all. I remember the village festival with young people in yukatas, working under the blazing sun to hide the pain and wound from my master.
Old & New
Square end. Square end.
My master is gone now, but the chisel is still much alive within me. Beautiful mortise chisel measuring 110 cm with a dark shiny white oak handle and cutting edge.
Unlike many other items or objects I have made, this kshi-do has always remained in my heart and mind. I had always hoped that one day I would be able to make kshi-do for my own personal use, not as a way to achieve my young man’s dream.
Low bench The hipboards are cut to size by hand.
In the 1960s I was teaching at the Brooklyn Museum Art School. One day, a student brought me a piece 5 cm x 10cm x 20cm of light yellow softwood with a very tight grain and beautiful scent. I asked him what the name of this wood was, and he didn’t know.
Looks right. The fit of the joint between the dividing rail and the stile is checked.
He gave me a little piece for a propeller of my model airplane. As I cut into the wood, a strong and pleasant fragrance filled my little studio. I fell in love with this wood immediately. A friend brought a plank to me years later, at a woodworking event. Toshio, this plank is yellow cedar (or Alaskan cedar). It is a wonderful scent. It was beautiful.
The bevel. The stiles are beveled above the dividing rail.
I told him about the episode from years ago, then he gave the plank to me. I did not know much about the wood; I had used it to make just one little propeller. I decided to try my hand at kshi-do with Alaskan Cedar.
Regular adjustment. The iron of the finishing plane is adjusted with light taps of a hammer.
More years passed, and I renovated my little studio that I call Japanese studio. I use only hand tools and a lot of traditional Japanese tools. My studio is a lot like a typical Japanese workshop, if perhaps a bit larger. The front opening is 6-5 cm high x 12 wide. It was the perfect place to make use of the kshi-do Id long been wanting to make.
This is what you see. The horizontal braces pass through mortises in the vertical lattice pieces.
Japanese homes have a 6×6 front entrance with two 3×6 doors. However, I have a 12 opening, so I decided to make four panels. When I renovated my little studio, I made an opening at the side that was 6-5 cm high and 12 wide. There I will make a different style glass door. I made traditional Japanese sliding glass door track for both entrances.
Complex corner. Note the joinery detail at the lower corner of a panel. The bottom mortise accepts a wheel that rides on a track.
Getting ready. All the parts for one panel are arranged before assembly.
About seven or eight years ago, one of my friends told me of a nearby lumber company that carries Alaskan cedar, so I went. The planks were both 3 cm and 5 cm thick, and 13 cm in width and 16 inches long. Both sizes were enough to fit four doors. And I purchased door wheels from Japan. Now I was ready to make my dream doors and a different design glass door for the far side opening.
No turning back. The panel is secured together with glue.
Finishing touches. The bottom of the stile is cut to allow it to pass under the rail.
Sweeping up. Between stages, take some time to sweep up chips and shavings.
I completed the four kshi-do with glasses in 2011. The photographs show some of it. PWM
Toshio Odate completed his apprenticeship and arrived in the United States in 1958. Since then he has written books about Japanese tools and making shoji, taught woodworking and sculpture. He continues to work in his Connecticut studio. The seminal book Making Shoji contains step-by-step instructions for making traditional shoji.
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