Origami Cranes Become a Mosaic, Swordsmiths Forge, and Tea Ceremony is Passed Down—The Structural Support Behind Hiroshima’s ‘Memory Devices of Handicraft’

There are hands that sort about 10,000 origami cranes by color. There are hands that strike iron in front of flames exceeding 1,000 degrees. There are hands that whisk tea utensils in the worship hall of Itsukushima Shrine—three types of “handicraft” have been operating almost simultaneously in Hiroshima. Origami crane mosaic art, swordsmithing, and the inheritance of the samurai tea ceremony. While each of these culminates in a moment of splendor, there exists a structural support that continues to circulate culture behind the scenes.

This is not a story of “someone’s hard work.” It is about understanding the arrangements and relationships that allow handicrafts to function as memory devices—this is the structure we need to read.

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Origami Crane Mosaic Art—A Mechanism to Transform “Received Prayers” into “Visible Forms”

In May 2025, a mosaic art piece was created at Edion Peace Wing Hiroshima before a Sanfrecce Hiroshima Regina match. The materials used were origami cranes delivered to Hiroshima from around the world. Approximately 10 million origami cranes arrive in Hiroshima City each year. Those offered around the “Children’s Peace Monument” in Peace Memorial Park are symbols of prayer, but they are also a vast amount of “paper” physically. With limited storage space, cranes that have been around for a certain period are either recycled into paper or utilized in art projects like this.

The completed mosaic art emerges as a single picture when viewed from the stadium’s spectator seats. However, to create that picture, the cranes must be sorted by hue and affixed one by one according to a layout plan. This process is not solely the responsibility of the artist. Volunteer staff are involved from the sorting stage, judging color gradations and selecting usable cranes while checking their condition—tears or discoloration.

Here lies a structure. By having a “sorter and arranger” intervene between the “person delivering the cranes” and the “person receiving them,” individual prayers are transformed into a collective message. It is not about discarding prayers or simply stacking them; it is about reorganizing them into a form that holds visual meaning—this intermediate process is what allows the origami cranes to function as a “memory device.”

One aspect worth pausing to consider is that this mechanism also functions as a “receptacle for goodwill.” The act of folding origami cranes can be done by anyone. However, how the received cranes are handled depends on the design of the receiving side. The mosaic art format serves as a circuit that does not allow goodwill to stagnate but flows it into the next meaning.

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Swordsmith Sadanao Mikami—A Design of Inheritance That Is Not “One-Child Succession”

Sadanao Mikami, 71, continues sword forging in Kitahiroshima Town. He is an unrestricted swordsmith—having repeatedly won awards at the Japan Art Sword Preservation Association’s new sword exhibition, he possesses qualifications for exemption from judging. His technique is characterized by the reproduction of the jigane (steel grain) of ancient swords, pursuing the texture of Heian and Kamakura period blades while skillfully using both modern steel and traditional tamahagane.

In the world of swordsmithing, techniques are difficult to verbalize. One reads the temperature by the color of the iron and controls the organization of the steel by the angle and force of the strikes. To borrow Mikami’s words, “A sword is not just a tool; it is something that houses a soul.” However, that “soul” is not a mystery; it is born from the accumulation of repeated practice and observation.

Notably, Mikami’s workshop functions not as a closed inheritance of “one-child succession” but as a place that accepts multiple apprentices. According to statistics from the Agency for Cultural Affairs, there are about 350 active swordsmiths across Japan, and the aging population is a growing concern. Securing successors is a challenge for the entire industry, and relying solely on individual master-apprentice relationships is not structurally sustainable. In Mikami’s workshop, apprentices are provided with an environment where they can participate in the entire process of sword forging—selecting tamahagane, folding and forging, quenching, and polishing—on a daily basis, learning through physical experience.

Here too, there is an arrangement. If apprentices only “observe and memorize,” the techniques will be interrupted. The physical space of the workshop allows multiple apprentices to learn simultaneously, creating horizontal transmission from senior to junior apprentices. By dispersing the techniques confined to the body of a single master across multiple bodies through the structure of the space, Mikami’s workshop functions as a “memory device.”

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Ueda Soko School, 17th Headmaster Inheritance—The Arrangements of 400 Disciples Supporting 400 Years of “Forms”

In May 2025, at Itsukushima Shrine, the 17th headmaster of the Ueda Soko School of samurai tea ceremony, Soko Ueda, held a tea offering ceremony. This was a report of inheritance witnessed by about 400 disciples. The Ueda Soko School, founded by the warlord Ueda Soko, has continued for over 400 years alongside the samurai culture of the Hiroshima domain.

From the outside, the tea offering ceremony appears to be a quiet ritual. However, behind the scenes, there is meticulous preparation by the disciples. Selecting and inspecting tea utensils, setting up the venue, designing the movement flow of attendees, and managing the proceedings on the day—all of these are conducted in accordance with the “forms” of tea ceremony. The “forms” in tea ceremony are not merely protocols; they are operational protocols that dictate who does what in what order.

Having 400 disciples means that there are roles and arrangements for all 400. The act of the headmaster preparing tea is only possible because of the organizational support behind it. Here, we can see the dual structure of the tea ceremony being both “individual cultivation” and “group operation.”

The reason the Ueda Soko School is rooted in Hiroshima is also related to this structure. The historical connection with the Hiroshima domain has established a culture of learning tea ceremony in local households, and the network of disciples has been maintained across generations. The transition of headmasters is not merely the inheritance of an individual’s charisma but is closer to the movement of a junction point for the entire network.

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Common Structure Among the Three Handicrafts—The Design of the “Intermediate Process”

Sorting origami cranes, sword forging in the workshop, and the arrangements for the tea offering ceremony. What is common among these three cases is that the intermediate processes before the “finished products” or “public performances” are carefully designed.

In the origami crane mosaic art, there is the sorting process that transforms prayers into visual information. In the swordsmith’s workshop, there is daily training that transfers the master’s embodied knowledge to the apprentice’s body. In the tea ceremony, there is the operation of disciples that establishes the headmaster’s actions. The beauty of the “works” or “rituals” that ultimately come into view relies on the quality of these intermediate processes.

Another commonality is that these intermediate processes operate as a “system.” Rather than relying on the devotion of specific individuals, the structure of the space—the stadium as a setting, the workshop as an environment, and the network of disciples as an organization—has been designed to continue functioning beyond personnel changes.

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Future Points of Interest—The Sustainability of the “Memory Device”

For Hiroshima’s handicrafts to continue functioning as “memory devices,” there are several challenges.

Regarding origami crane mosaic art, how to diversify the utilization of the approximately 10 million cranes received each year. If circuits beyond recycled paper and art projects are opened, the receptacle for goodwill will expand further.

In terms of swordsmithing technique inheritance, there is the issue of creating an economic foundation that allows apprentices to become independent. The market size for art swords, the demand for cultural property restoration, and interest from overseas—how to combine these factors to create a “sustainable structure” will influence the continuity of the techniques.

As for the inheritance of the tea ceremony headmaster, the balance between the aging of disciples and new entrants is questioned. Preserving the 400-year-old forms while creating an accessible entry point for new generations—these two may seem contradictory, but in essence, the forms themselves are a structure that is originally broad in the sense that “anyone can perform the same actions.”

In all cases, the question remains the same: “Who does this make easier?” The moment the burden on the back office concentrates on specific individuals, the system becomes personalized and risks interruption. For the memory device to continue being a memory device, the support structure itself must be sustainable.

The true strength of Hiroshima’s handicrafts lies not in the beauty of the finished products but in the arrangements that make them possible.