40 Australian Wood Review
PROFILE- One of the last made during Benedict’s
apprenticeship, a chair made from
Japanese mulberry receives a final
correction from Master Tokunaga. - ‘The tiny “banana” kanna is all we need
to shape and finish the chair seat. A little
hammer to adjust the plane and you’re
good to go! The last thing you need, and
perhaps the most important, is a clear
mind.’ The shape in the seat is the result
of hours of hand planing, and the final
texture is formed from individual long
strokes of a round-bottom plane. Each
stroke is uniform in depth and thickness,
even though it follows contours. In some
cases it even runs perpendicular to the
grain without changing shape or
causing tear-out.- Tokunaga Vibrato chairs in Yoshino cedar.
‘Just after sunset today, we had 11 more
chairs standing. Since I’ve been here,
we’ve made a little over one each day.’
‘The sugi (cedar) used in the workshop is
grown locally in the Yoshino mountains.
Seeds from the oldest and highest quality
trees are used for propagation. This
yields a slow-growing tight-grained and
ultimately very clear wood. It is a difficult
wood to surface, but its beauty in a
finished piece is worth the challenge.’
Can you tell us a little about Toshio
Tokunaga, his style of work and the
principles that guide it?Master Tokunaga embodies many of
the characteristics of what you or I
might picture as a master craftsman.
He is dedicated, tireless, disciplined,
and of a singular talent.Beyond that however, he is kind,
quick to laugh, and possessing of a
contagious joie de vivre.If I had to try to explain his style, I would
describe it as ‘inviting’. His work invites
you to touch and to look closely at subtle
detail. Carefully selected materials
invite you to reflect on the line between
nature and human imagination.What did you hope to learn as an
apprentice? How many other people /
apprentices work in his studio? Were you
a paid? What were your duties? How did
you survive financially?I had a little experience before I
arrived, and was working independently
on honing my skills with a saw, kanna
(a Japanese hand plane) and a chisel.
I could sharpen to a passable edge on
my tools. In Japan, I expected to learn
how to do those things professionally,
and to try to master the kanna. I did
so alongside two other apprentices
in my teacher’s studio. One was very
distantly my senior, another was very
closely my junior. As an apprentice in
the traditional sense, I was treated as a2
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