How this little-known Japanese craft changed my life forever
This might be the most important thing I write this year.
If you like Japan and want to hear how a very small craft contributed directly to international relations, read on.
If not,
your loss.
First, I need to bring something to your attention:
日本三大つるし飾り
Nihon Sandai Tsurushi Kazari
The Three Great Hanging Decorations of Japan.
Being the humble Japanese people they are, I guess they simply couldn’t decide who was number one, so they just went for a three-way. Either way, you probably don’t know this about me, but,
I’m a closet The Three Great Hanging Ornaments of Japan fan.
And little did I know, these decorations would one day become a bridge between Japan and New Zealand, carrying messages of grief, healing, and hope.
Or, more specifically, one of the top three:
Kasafuku 傘福
From Kasa meaning umbrella, and Fuku meaning happiness. Kasafuku are a set of hand-sewn ornaments hung under a (usually) red umbrella, with a (usually) red curtain (this is important) wrapped around its brim.
Sagemon
The other two big three are Sagemon from Yanagawa in Fukuoka Prefecture. Sagemon literally means ‘things that sage ‘, i.e. droop or hang down, and they feature a ring made from bamboo wrapped in chirimen fabric from which seven threads are hung, each bearing seven fabric dolls (totalling 49). Importantly, Sagemon have two distinctive Yanagawa balls placed at the center, and they also lack a curtain like Kasafuku.
And, Hina no Tsurushi Kazari
from Inatori District, Higashiizu Town, Shizuoka Prefecture. Literally ’hanging dolls decoration,’ Hina no Tsurushi Kazari is similar to Sagemon but without the use of decorative balls, and also the lack of a curtain. What makes Hina no Tsurushi Kazari especially interesting is the tradition of burning them in a ceremonial fire called “dondo yaki” once the daughter they are dedicated to reaches adulthood. This makes antique Hina no Tsurushi Kazari especially hard to come by.
Why bring this to your attention now?
Hinamatsuri Doll’s festival takes place on the third day of the third month. During Hinamatsuri, people decorate their houses and shops with incredible displays of dolls representing the Emperor, Empress, attendants, musicians and any number of servants in the traditional court dress of the Heian period.
As the displays can be rather elaborate, or in other words, expensive (I’m cherry-picking, but this small set (smaller than the one pictured above) costs $1500 or so, for example), in the past, only the noble classes could afford to display ‘proper’ dolls. Being handmade from leftover kimono silk, Kasafuku, Sagemon, and Hina no Tsurushi Kazari were more accessible to the average person.
Plus, they look spectacular.
The sheer variety and colour of the intricately sewn ornaments dazzle anyone who sees them with their own eyes.
Not only that,
There is a deep deep meaning associated with the ornaments. And I mean deep. And I also mean Kasafuku specifically. Because, unlike the other two, despite its title as one of the top three hanging decorations of Japan, Kasafuku decorations aren’t for decoration.
They are a way of honoring life, of sending prayers into the world. A wish sewn into fabric, a silent offering to the divine. And then, in 2019, I found myself searching for a way to send a different kind of prayer—one for grief, for remembrance, for those taken too soon.
Kasafuku just got personal.
You may have heard of the mass shooting at two mosques in Christchurch on March 15, 2019, exactly five years ago. This was an event that shook New Zealand to its core, and we have never been the same since.
Fifty-one lives were taken that day. Fifty-one people who had come to pray, to seek peace. Among them were fathers, mothers, daughters, and sons—people who, like those who make Kasafuku, believed in the power of faith and tradition.
One of them was a three-year-old boy, Mucaad Ibrahim, who had just started learning Arabic prayers. Another was Haji Daoud Nabi, a 71-year-old man who greeted the shooter at the mosque’s entrance with the words ‘Hello, brother.’
Sakata City, where I have called home for the last ten years, had always had strong ties to New Zealand:
Our university, Tohoku University of Community Service and Science (Koeki), is home to Japan’s only Institute of New Zealand Studies.
The first president of Koeki, Professor Emeritus Ryuji Komatsu, was even awarded the New Zealand Order of Merit for his work in education and Japan-New Zealand relations.
At the time of the attacks, we were preparing to host the New Zealand triathlon team for the Tokyo 2020 Olympics (I was one of the advisors/interpreters—you could say that bronze medal is as good as mine).
So when the tragedy struck, the city turned to me and asked: What can we do for our Kiwi friends?
And the answer was clear.
Kasafuku. But not just any Kasafuku. Kasafuku dedicated to the memory of those who lost their lives. A prayer for peace, stitched into fabric.
And you know what?
We did just that.
In all, more than 30 people had a direct hand in their making—from students at the university to city workers, and of course, Shonai Kasafuku Kenkyu Kai.
The Shonai Society of Kasafuku Research.
The real MVPs.
The above picture is from a book written by Murakami-san of the Shonai Kasafuku Kenkyukai. Murakami-san and her fellow Kasafuku enthusiasts went around to all the shrines and temples in the Shonai region of Yamagata to see what Kasafuku were on display. They then created this whole book about the experience, including detailed descriptions on how to make each ornament.
Not only that, the group also made New Zealand-specific Kasafuku for our New Zealand-themed pieces.
Here are some of the New Zealand Kasafuku ornaments we made:
All up, it took us about a year to complete. When ready, a whole legion of us took them all the way to New Zealand. Two Kasafuku were taken directly to the mosques in Christchurch.
The last one, the one I was responsible for, we ended up taking to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. In all honesty, we wanted to take it right to the top, to then-Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern.
And you know what?
We did just that.
Not directly.
A few weeks after our donation, someone spotted a certain Three Great Hanging Decorations of Japan sitting on Prime Minister Ardern’s desk in an Instagram post.
Somehow, the Kasafuku reached her desk. But in the end, this was never about politics or recognition. It was about the fifty-one lives lost, and the countless more left grieving.
Every stitch in those Kasafuku was a prayer. And every year, when I see them hanging during Hinamatsuri, I pray again—for the lives lost, for their families, and for a world that never forgets them.
That’s the thing about tradition—it’s not just about the past. It’s about the people we carry forward with us. And in that way, those fifty-one souls will always be here.
Tim.
P.S.
Every year in March, the Shonai Kasafuku Kenkyukai holds a display as part of the Hina Kaido event (old information, this year the Kenkyukai’s event is held in Obataro). This event is held all over Sakata City and in other parts of Japan where you can see very elaborate, and sometimes very old, Hina doll displays.
Daily Yamabushi for This Week
Daily Yamabushi posts for the week of March 7 to 13, 2025.
Read Daily Yamabushi at timbunting.com/blog. Everything I make is free of charge if you know where to find it. Start here.
Interesting story! I am glad to come across your page. I am actually living in Sagae, Yamagata and I am a huge fan of Sakata.
Thank you for sharing, very powerful and beautiful.