I’m smitten with indigo. I first fell in love with it years ago in Oaxaca, Mexico, where I discovered it is grown along the tropical, humid southern coast of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec. The type of indigo grown in Oaxaca is a different strain. The botanical name for the Oaxaca indigo plant is Indigofera suffruticosa, also known as Añil. This species is native to the tropical and subtropical regions of the Americas, including southern Mexico. It is different from that grown in Asia or Africa, and yields a different intensity of blue. To go deeper into Oaxaca indigo, please read this piece I published in 2012.
Japanese Indigo, Persicaria tinctoria or Polygonum tinctoria (also known as Tadeai) is a frost-tender member of the knotweed family. Originally thought to be introduced from India and China via the silk trade, it likes to grow in warm, moist climates, often as a waterside plant. This plant thrives in the more temperate climate of Japan.
It was only natural that on this second trip to Japan (my first was in 2019), I would again pursue indigo. I took an indigo dye workshop and sought out a sashiko embroiderer who dyes her threads with indigo and stitches on naturally dyed indigo cloth. I should call this Japanese heaven. I was in my element!
Known in Japan as ‘aizome’, indigo dye is so integrated into Japanese society that this deepest, entrancing shade is often referred to as “Japan blue.” Evidence suggests that indigo production began in Japan as early as the 6th and 7th centuries. Because it was so difficult to produce, indigo was reserved for the wealthiest and most important members of society, particularly aristocrats and royalty. It was discovered, too, that Japanese indigo dyed fabric has many medicinal properties; its insect repelling and anti-bacterial qualities made it a popular choice for Samurai soldiers charging out into bloody battles.
Historically, it was also used to color workers’ garments and textiles for daily use. The traditional methods of fermentation and oxidization are used to achieve the various shades of blue. Color intensity is also controlled by the number of dips a yarn or textile is submerged into the dye pot. The indigo in Japan can yield a much stronger blue on plant fibers such as cotton or linen, than in Oaxaca. Yet, the color of Oaxaca indigo on wool is spectacular.
In Oaxaca, indigo dyeing has a long history, dating back to pre-Hispanic times. Indigenous Oaxaca Zapotec and Mixtec weavers used this amazing blue for traditional ceremonial textiles as well as for clothing worn by royalty. The dyeing process is deeply tied to local crafts and cultural heritage here, too.
When Annie and I returned to Tokyo for a week after visiting Kyoto and Takayama, we took an indigo dye workshop in a neighborhood on the city’s outskirts. It took us about a half-hour train ride to get there. We took the workshop organized by Aikuma Japanese Dyes–Japanese Dyeing Workshops. The owner is Yuta Yasuda, and his family has owned the company that supplies dyers since the late 1800’s. Yuta speaks excellent English and arranged for his colleage, dye master Morito, to lead the workshop. Yuta translated, but it was easy to pick up the techniques just by watching.
We used a rice paste resist and stencils made with Japanese washi paper. To make the rice paste Morito used three parts of rice bran to two parts of rice flour. Rice bran is a by-product of sake production, so nothing is wasted! The labor to harvest rice and indigo crops immigrate from Vietnam, Kurdistan, Turkey and China. Farms need lower cost labor, just as we do in the United State of America.
Take an indigo dye workshop with us in Oaxaca when you visit!
Women Weavers in Teotitlan del Valle, Oaxaca: Part One
Recently, I spent the day with a University of Michigan, public policy and economic development researcher, who asked me to introduce her to the Zapotec weaving culture of Teotitlan del Valle. Her expertise is India. Now, she is exploring how India and Mexico intersect and diverge in their support of artisans, particularly weavers.
hand-woven indigo rug with dye prepared by Juana Gutierrez
During our almost 10-hour day, we visited with five weaving families who work in natural dyes, two of whom are official cooperatives, registered with the government. One of these cooperatives, Vida Nueva (New Life), is solely woman-operated. Our time with spokeswoman Pastora Gutierrez enlightened my knowledge about how women came to become weavers in Teotitlan del Valle.
Federico Chavez Sosa at his loom in Teotitlan del Valle
Weaving on the fixed-frame pedal loom is mostly men’s work. The looms are big and heavy. It takes upper body strength to operate them. When the Spanish friars introduced this tapestry loom (along with churro sheep) to New Spain with the conquest, they trained men to use it, just as men traditionally worked this loom in Europe to create textiles for warmth.
Oaxaca tapestry looms turned out blankets, ponchos, sarapes and other articles of functional cloth for insulation used by people and horses.
Started in the early 1940’s, during World War II when men were overseas, the United States Bracero program opened the opportunity for Mexican men to work legally as temporary, seasonal agricultural laborers. From 1948 to 1964, more than 200,000 Mexican worked in U.S. agriculture each year.
Hand-woven tapestries with spinning wheel
Talk to anyone in Teotitlan del Valle and you will meet someone who participated in this program or has a relative who did. I am told the impact on Teotitlan del Valle was huge and saw the exodus of many of its young and middle-age men. They worked in the fields and orchards of America to earn a living to support their families.
Many men didn’t return.
This is when most women learned to weave.
Young women, who always did the cleaning, carding and spinning of sheep wool, learned to dress the loom and weave tapestries. Many began producing sellable textiles by age 11. Mothers, aunts, sisters, nieces and cousins came together to make this a family endeavor until the men returned, much like the sewing bee in small town USA. The making and selling of textiles remained closely within the family group.
Old sarape design, now a floor rug
By the mid-1970’s, Teotitlan del Valle weaving shifted from blankets and clothing to ornamental floor rugs, brought on by the market demand of Santa Fe interior design style. Importers developed relationships with village weavers who became exporters. Many were men who had learned a little English working in the Bracero program and had returned to the family and village infrastructure.
Resources
Book: Zapotec Women by Lynn Stephen, Duke University Press
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Posted in Cultural Commentary, Mexican Immigration, Teotitlan del Valle, Textiles, Tapestries & Weaving
Tagged bracero, culture, dye, farmworker, history, Mexico, natural, Oaxaca, tapestry, textiles, weaver, weaving, Women