Eriko Horiki, the woman credited with revolutionising the 1,400-year-old world of handmade Japanese paper, or washi, is unlike most artisans in the country. Tall, slim and elegant, the immaculately groomed Horiki arrives for the interview in her trademark black Armani suit, looking as if she has just stepped out of an investment bank in Tokyo rather than a workshop. Then again, she used to be a banker.
Horiki, 45, discovered her passion for washi in her twenties while working at a bank.
'I worked with a company that developed commercial products based on handmade washi,' she says. 'Even though the product was beautiful, it couldn't compete with quicker and cheaper machine-produced paper and the business closed. I could see that the tradition wouldn't survive in the new commercial environment, so I decided to do something. I didn't want the traditional skills to be lost for future generations.'
But to protect and sustain traditional skills and techniques, Horiki realised that she'd have to introduce new ideas - no mean feat in a country known for its resistance to change.
Undeterred, she decided that the future lay in extending the use of washi beyond its traditional applications. Washi is typically used to inscribe prayers and wishes, and are tied to trees in temple compounds - the white handmade paper representing purity and spirituality. Special gifts are intricately wrapped in the highest quality handmade paper to show respect.
Unlike Chinese paper, which is made from bamboo, Japanese washi uses the bark of the gampi tree, the mitsumata shrub or the paper mulberry. The fibres are pounded together, creating a strong and flexible product.