Night Sky Yoi / Akatsuki, 22.5 cm, Dishwasher-Safe Chopsticks

Obama City in Fukui Prefecture is a small town on the Sea of Japan with a population of about 30,000, yet it is a major production center that accounts for 80% of all lacquered chopsticks made in Japan.
Traditional Wakasa lacquered chopsticks, made with the technique of Wakasa lacquerware and its tradition of 400 years, are well known, but there was a maker who was not bound by that framework and expressed free ideas in chopsticks.
He was the lacquered chopstick craftsman Masayoshi Matoba.
Mr. Matoba was born in 1938 (Showa 13). He loved drawing from early childhood, and even though his family was poor, he is said to have painted using leaves as a palette.
At the age of 18 he entered the world of chopstick making, and after mastering the techniques of traditional Wakasa lacquered chopsticks, he became independent. After more than 20 years as a chopstick craftsman, he introduced the technique of “brush painting,” coloring chopsticks with an artist's brush, which had never been part of Wakasa lacquered chopsticks.

At a time when classic black and red chopsticks were the mainstream, the many colorful chopsticks Mr. Matoba created were all innovative. He sought design hints in things like brooches women wear, clothing, and stage lighting. When a good idea came to him, he would jump out of bed even in the middle of the night and shut himself in his workshop.

Over a career as a craftsman spanning more than 60 years, he created more than 500 kinds of chopsticks. A chopstick is at most 23 cm long and only 1 cm wide, yet the rich colors that seem ready to burst out of that tiny canvas give us a fresh sense of wonder.

Mr. Matoba passed away in 2019. Today his apprentice, Yuya Fujii, carries on his skills.

Mr. Fujii is from Obama City, a local native.
He had no connection at all to chopsticks or craftsmanship until then, but a curious twist of fate led him to study under Mr. Matoba.
Mr. Fujii was 34 years old at the time. It was by no means a young age at which to start gaining experience as a chopstick craftsman. Quitting the work he had done for many years and leaping into an unknown world must have taken great courage.

Even so, he says that going to Mr. Matoba's workshop was never a burden.
“Mr. Matoba was a lovable person. He didn't seem like a strict craftsman; he was easygoing and laughed often. If it hadn't been Mr. Matoba, I wouldn't have become his apprentice,” he says. When Mr. Fujii talks about Mr. Matoba, his face becomes very gentle, and you can feel Mr. Matoba's character through it.

A few months after Mr. Fujii became his apprentice, Mr. Matoba's illness was discovered, and it became clear that he had little time left. From then on, Mr. Matoba spent as much time as his strength allowed in the workshop, trying to pass on everything he could to Mr. Fujii. Mr. Fujii, on the receiving end, was desperate as well.
When asked whether he felt anxious about possibly losing his teacher, he laughs and says, “I was too busy making chopsticks to even think about worrying about the future.”

While teaching Mr. Fujii, Mr. Matoba is said to have remarked, “It's good that Fujii knows nothing about chopsticks. He soaks everything up honestly and quickly.”
Mr. Fujii says he is by no means dexterous, but as you listen to him, you sense delicate consideration everywhere. That careful attention, which puts itself in the user's place, shows in his chopstick making too. Unlike the free-spirited feel of Mr. Matoba's designs, Mr. Fujii's chopsticks convey a delicate atmosphere.

What makes brush-painted chopsticks interesting is that even with the same design, the texture differs slightly depending on the maker. Please enjoy the distinctive character that only handwork can produce at your own table.