The Dust of Ages

Everyone knows the name Kyoto, Japan's ancient capital that is dotted with historic buildings. That they still stand is partly due to the restraint shown during WWII when bombs were dropped on all the most populous cities but not on Kyoto. But a lot is due to the materials used and the craftsmanship with which they were built.

One popular attraction is the 400-year old Katsura detached palace, which is a landscaping gem, worth visiting just for the gardens. True afficionados, though, fall in love with the buildings. The flooring, the ceilings, the woodwork and the columns that support it all are designed to show off the natural patterns in the logs that were selected for construction centuries ago.

Perhaps because the Katsura palace sits all by itself in a lovely natural environment, detached from the jam-packed jumble of Kyoto's crowded neighborhoods, it never fell victim to the fires that destroyed so many other original landmarks. The wooden parts aged, and grew more beautiful with time.

And then...termites!

In the mid 70's, a team was organized to save the Katsura palace by replacing all the wooden parts. First they took it apart, board by board, wrapping the beams in brown paper and tying them up with string, and then storing them lovingly in a storehouse erected just for them. A pair of mummified catfish found under the foundation was carted to the storehouse. Someone even swept all the dust from the rafters and stored the dust in a brown paper sack.

The project moved along nicely until the replacement for the termite-eaten central column was selected. It was perfect in every way except one: it was too new. It gleamed like pale yellow gold, beautiful in its own way but out of place in the dimly-lit rooms decorated with hand-painted, aged by the centuries artwork.

Can you guess how they saved the historic atmosphere and made that shiny pillar fit in?

(hint: think of the items that were tenderly packed away in that storehouse)

Someone got the brilliant idea that, if it was the dust of ages that created the special atmosphere of Katsura, then it was the dust of ages that could transform that column. One of the artisans made it his job to bathe that column three times a day in a solution made from the dust in that brown paper sack and a fixative until the pillar developed the proper coloration.

This story, first broadcast in an NHK documentary, captivated me. Imagine making good use of that bag of dust! For people like me who hate to throw things away, though, it might be better to pretend it never happened.