A Fan of Japanese Folding Fans

The first time I saw a woman cooling herself with a Japanese folding fan, on a hot summer’s day in Tokyo, I instantly knew I wanted one.

Over the years I’ve acquired a modest collection of Japanese folding fans, some of them purchased in souvenir shops, some given to me as presents, some passed out free by companies as advertisements. While I appreciated their practicality and their beauty, it wasn’t until I visited the Kyoto Museum of Crafts and Design that I grew to also understand the work and skill that go into crafting the slats of wood that form the ribs, producing the paper, and painting the designs that grace the very best.

History of Japanese folding fans

No one knows exactly how the idea of fans originated (though my money is on a middle-aged woman experiencing her first hot flash), but the Chinese were using flat, rigid fans by the 2^nd century B.C. They exported their invention to Japan some time around the 7th century. The Japanese improved on the concept by inventing the folding fan (sensu), modeled, it’s been said, on the wing of a bat. Before long, folding fans, made of cypress or bamboo ribs covered with parchment, evolved from being merely functional to becoming an essential accessory, the rage of the Heian court (794-1192).

As the centuries passed, they also assumed an importance in Shinto religious ceremonies, dances, and the tea ceremony. In theatrical arts like noh (Japan’s oldest theatrical performance, which happens so slowly it’s been likened to “moving sculpture”) and rakugo (comic storytelling), a sensu is a useful prop that can be used open or closed to represent a dagger, spear, plate, chopsticks, pipe, waves or birds.

Although folding fans are produced throughout Japan, Kyoto might well be the sensu capital of the world, seeing how it served as the imperial capital of Japan for more than 1,000 years. Miyawaki Baisen-an is one of Kyoto’s oldest and most venerated fan shops, in business since 1823. Owning one is like possessing a piece of Kyoto itself.

Fans today

Today, Japanese folding fans range from inexpensive souvenirs to handmade, exquisitely crafted  sensu that can cost $400 and more. What I love about Japanese crafts is that they’re rarely the result of any one artisan. An expensive fan, therefore, might be the collaboration of many skilled artists, one who produces the ribs of the fan, another who produces the paper, and the other who draws the design.

For me, fans remain mostly a means to stay cool. I don’t have air conditioning at home, and so I keep my collection handy to pass out to visiting friends. I also keep one in my purse, and when I pull it out to fan myself, whether in line at the post office or at an outdoor concert, someone will invariably turn to me and say: “I want one of those!” With the way the world is heating up, folding fans might someday be a necessity, just like they were in Japan during the days of the shogun.