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Koginzashi embroidery web magazine from Japan

Visiting Sato Yoko’s Kogin Exhibition Hall – A Summer Journey into Living History

2026.05.19


JAPANESE

 

During my summer holiday, I visited the Sato Yoko Kogin Exhibition Hall in Hirosaki City, Aomori Prefecture.

Sato Yoko studied kogin-zashi for many years under the late Maeda Setsu, and she continues to create a great number of works to this day. Wishing to widen the circle of kogin lovers, she opened this exhibition hall seven years ago after renovating her own home. She displays not only her own kogin pieces but also a large collection of antique kogin-zashi pieces from 150 to 200 years ago. Visitors come from throughout Japan and even from overseas to learn about kogin-zashi here.

 

 

At the entrance, Ms. Sato welcomed us. The first thing that caught my eye was a strikingly colourful kogin-zashi mat. At first glance the diamond-shaped modoco appear to be neatly lined up — but a closer look reveals that they connect with one another to form a continuous pattern. This intelligent, almost optical-illusion-like design is an original by the late Takahashi Hiroko. The pattern felt surprisingly modern despite its traditional roots. I first learned of Takahashi Hiroko through a feature in the kogin magazine Soratobu Kogin. The designs that Mr. and Mrs. Takahashi spent many years researching together feel modern, intellectual, and still wonderfully fresh today. After Maeda Setsu passed away, Ms. Sato attended Takahashi Hiroko’s classes, and through that connection she still redraws the Takahashi designs by hand and shares them on her website.

The entrance is also lined with pieces showing the differences between threads and fabrics, and demonstrating various stitching techniques — fascinating material for anyone who actually does kogin-zashi. You can compare them by touching the real samples. Even before reaching the second floor I kept stopping in my tracks to look at the small kogin pieces before me. Their charm was simply irresistible.

 

Worn areas reinforced with two or three additional layers of stitching. From the front you cannot tell, but flipping the cloth over reveals the original pattern beneath.

 

“Aba-kogin”: old, soiled kogin given new life by re-dyeing in indigo. Worn by elderly women, they are called “aba” (meaning “old woman” in the Tsugaru dialect) kogin.

 

Upstairs we were allowed to actually touch — and even try on — the old kogin-zashi garments. These antique work clothes were originally collected by the folklorist Tanaka Chuzaburo and were later passed on to Ms. Sato. There are pieces patched and re-stitched two or three times over, and aba-kogin re-dyed in indigo. You can clearly see how lovingly the people of that time cared for and reused their kogin clothing.

All of these pieces are said to be 150 to 200 years old. They are in remarkably good condition — so good it is hard to believe they are that old. Knowing they are precious cultural artefacts, I felt hesitant to touch them, but Ms. Sato kept encouraging us, and in the end we tried on many pieces almost like a fashion show.

 

 

 

What truly surprised me, only on touching them, was the thinness and fineness of the hemp cloth — almost like sarashi muslin. It was a world away from the warmth I associate with modern kogin-zashi stitched on cotton. The most you can feel is the comfort of having something on your body; the insulation gained by stitching cotton thread into thin hemp must have been minimal. I found myself in awe of the people who survived winters in this region. And the weave of this cloth was finer than the finest cloth I ever attempted to stitch on at the height of my own kogin obsession. I felt a complicated mix of emotions: awe at the strength of those women of the past, and I couldn’t help feeling that we live far more comfortably today.

 

 

Another fascinating discovery I made while looking at old kogin was a kind of “spot the difference” within the patterns. In the photo above, can you see what is different about the spot I am pointing to? Among the noragi (work clothes), there are rare examples in which what appears to be a continuous repeat of the same modoco subtly shifts at one point. Whether it was a simple mistake, or a quiet mark of personal identity, the intention is unknowable — and that mystery sets your mind wandering toward the woman who stitched it. There is a joy in feeling that, across the centuries, you can hold a conversation with those women.

 

 

After explaining each piece carefully, Ms. Sato finally showed us her own atelier. Many kogin-zashi reference materials, supplies, and a wealth of her own works are gathered there. She knows intimately the many pleasures of kogin-zashi — the joy of stitching it and the joy of seeing it.

She seems to enjoy sharing everything she has gathered about kogin — knowledge and objects alike — with the many visitors who come to the hall, and to enjoy it together with them. The phrase “an exhibition hall renovated from a home” might suggest a small affair, but in reality we spent three and a half hours in Ms. Sato’s company.

At the Sato Yoko Kogin Exhibition Hall in Hirosaki, Aomori, you can not only see the real things but actually touch them. With Ms. Sato’s deep experience in kogin-zashi, you can also gain a broad knowledge of kogin-zashi — from its history to its present state. If you want to know kogin-zashi, this is the place to visit first!

 

About the Sato Yoko Kogin Exhibition Hall

〒036-1323 Higashikawa 199-1, Maido, Hirosaki City, Aomori Prefecture
TEL & FAX: 0172-82-3367

About 15 minutes by taxi from JR Hirosaki Station. For driving directions, see the access page.

Admission: 500 yen. Visits are by advance reservation only. Please book by phone, fax, or via the reservation form.

 

Translation: koginbank editorial team

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