Never mind make do; mend and make beautiful

 

Don’t toss it out; make it wonderful. Don't hide it. Embellish it.  

"Japanese Aesthetics of Recycling,"  the current exhibition at the Brunei Gallery at SOAS, the University of London's School of Oriental and African Studies, may have a "let's be trendy" title but the show itself is beautiful, happy making and inspiring. When an object breaks; when fabric wears thin or holes grow, it isn't a disaster; these are not imperfections to be hidden (if your skills permit), it's not time for burial. It is an opportunity. 

 

 

   Make do and mend; wartime advice to the British at home was practical, economical and necessary--new shirts and frocks and shoes were not easy to come by. Yet it does sound as enticing as downing a tablespoon of cod liver oil: Good for you and punishing. These days, mending has been replaced by toss it away. But let's skip the blah blah blah about ours being a throwaway culture. Let's skip the moral tales and the claims that if we change our attitude to repairs, we will save the planet.  This is a celebration of the art that has been created by visibly repairing what people possessed. It is an expression of one aspect of a Japanese attitude to life. 

Obviously repairing is a necessity for people who don't have the money to replace what breaks, has been a feast for months or has worn out from long wear. (Exception here: male members of the British upper classes for whom wearing pullovers with holes prove that they are above such petty concerns. But that is another story.)  Bad enough that poverty is a disaster for health, deprives children of education and opportunities, forces people to remain in miserable or outright damaging domestic arrangements. We are taught that it is also  shameful. We in the  West we have been raised to feel mortified if we have to go around in clothing that, all too obviously, have been mended or serve our guests from stuck together again ceramic bowls.   If  precious memories are attached to an item, those or can will pay someone else a good deal of money to repair it ==in a manner that ensures that the "damage" doesn't show. Invisible mending is the ideal and it does not come cheap== nor do the services of ceramic restorers.

 This exhibition at the Brunei explodes shame and replaces with excitement. These bowls, kimono, net shirts, tabi shoes, futon coverings ==all of it has been mended, patched, glued so that it shows. And wouldn't you know in our crazy world, similar articles have become  sought after by collectors of contemporary art.  Probably they are more expensive now that brand new equivalents.   

 Forget the blah blah about ours being a throwaway culture and the virtues of mending socks when,  inevitably, they grow holes. Who knows how to darn any more? When was the last year--decade--that children were taught sewing in school?….So how about turning a few cogs in the brain and starting to think about mending in a new way. Admittedly, using gold or silver to mend broken ceramics is not a skill that is easily acquired. But anybody who can thread a needle (needle threating tools are cheap and easy to come by) can practice the Japanese craft-and art--of renewal, of re-creation. Oh and by the way, some branches of Uniglo are now offering a more limited version of just such a service--for products bought in their stores. Yes really. 

The show is free. It is on until September 23. It is a honey. If only there were a catalogue! I want to know about the Karun Thaker Collection of which all these treasures are a part. (His full collection is on deposit at the V&A.)