How do they make all those mind-boggling Nuno textiles?

Reiko Sudo gives us the inside scoop on shrinking glue, disappearing paper & more!

Reiko Sudo isn’t just one of the most innovative fabric designers in history, she’s a warm and delightful person whose enthusiasm for her art overflows to welcome anyone who loves textiles into her circle.

It’s impossible to walk into the Nuno store in Tokyo without wondering a) how could anyone dream up so many previously undiscovered patterns and textures and b) what kind of crazy innovations had to be conjured up to make them?

Today is our lucky day, because we’re about to find out! There’s nothing better than being shown around the blockbuster Sudo Reiko: Making Nuno Textiles exhibition by the master of eye-popping fabrics herself, so come along as she explains how she turns inspiration into reality.

The impressive number of different textiles she has pioneered aren’t just beautiful to behold…

producing them so we can all enjoy owning them requires figuring out how commercially-manufactured fabric can retain that leave-something-to-chance look and feel that’s so prized in Japanese art. Lots of people make fabulous handcrafted art pieces, but it takes a special kind of thinker to manufacture something in bulk that keeps that unique one-of-a-kind aura.

Here’s how she does it!

This first lacy open-work textile is a tour-de-force of invention and technology

Inspired by a glimpse of rolled-up paper patterns, this openwork spiral textile is made from spools upon spools of woven tape, which is stitched onto a backing of a fabric that looks like fusible interfacing…

but dissolves in water! Once the tape is stitched in place, the backing is washed away, leaving the lacework behind.

But THIS intricately pleated fabric required even more out-of-the-box thinking

Printable “glue” turned out to be the key to making fabrics pleated in intricate patterns like these.

The basic cloth is a type of woven polyester that retains pleats and puckers after being heated. To make it stay in this detailed crinkled design, though, it must be glued to an industrial polyvinyl fabric that shrinks when heated. Glue “threads” are silkscreened in a criss-cross pattern…

to attach the two layers together and determine what the final pleated design will look like. The sandwich is heated until the backing shrinks, which crinkles up the sheer fabric between the silkscreened “threads.” The pleats are then set with heat so they won’t come out after the fabric cools, then the water-soluble glue pattern is dissolved and the backing stripped away. This ethereal “jellyfish” fabric is what’s left behind!

How kibiso goes from cow breakfast to haute couture

Sudo-san doesn’t just care about making the most innovative fabrics around—sustainability and ecological manufacturing techniques are also high on her to-do list. There’s no better example than this woven fabric that stretches like a knit, is UV-protective, water-resistant, and made from a by-product of silk manufacturing that’s usually ground up for animal feed.

Kibiso is the outer layer of the silkworm’s cocoon—which is why it has all those swanky protective qualities—but it’s generally cast aside by silk manufacturers as too stiff and rough to spin into thread.

Sudo-san’s first thought was to turn it into wearables that capitalized on its sturdy, rustic nature.

Then she tried spinning it along with other fibers, and the thread that resulted from combining it with wool, cotton and finer silk allowed her to expand what the humble but amazing kibiso could be used for.

Sudo-san made the original design sketches for her “Kibiso Crisscross” textile line on crinkle-pleated washi because the iconic Japanese paper embraces the kind of crinkly texture and natural irregularities she hoped the final cloth would also embody.

This casual and natural fabric with precise geometric patterns is made by weaving heat-shrinking threads into the weft (the crosswise threads on a loom), then immersing the cloth in hot water. The heat-sensitive threads shrink and pucker the cloth into pleasingly irregular pleats, and after the pleats are set with additional pressure and heat, the magical shrinky threads are dissolved in even hotter water, leaving behind a lovely all-natural silk fabric.

But dissolving paper and magical heat tech aren’t the only tools Sudo-san presses into service to make innovative textiles. Consider the humble art of felting, a form of fabric-making that dates back thousands of years, long before weaving was invented.

How an old technique becomes an utterly modern art fabric

Felting and weaving don’t usually go together, but putting together techniques in whole new ways is one of Sudo-san’s greatest talents. This mash-up starts with flat felted “yarn” that’s layered in an openwork basketweave…

then sent through a felting machine to bind the strands to each other where they cross.

The technique was so unusual—and intriguing—the president of the company Sudo-san approached to manufacture this yardage stepped in to experiment with the felting machines himself until they achieved the result they were both looking for.

And finally, the question I’ve been dying to ask for years: How the heckity-heck does she make my favorite Nuno scarf?

These magical scarves unfold into a cloud of fluffy geometry when worn, but automatically fold back into a thin, precise belt when dropped onto a table. (It’s worth a visit to the Nuno store in Tokyo just to try this for yourself!)

The key to making these is origami and heat. A cardboard pattern is precisely scored and the heat-sensitive polyester fabric laid on top. The two are folded together, then heat and pressure are applied.

The permanently pleated final product can be made into the kind of stunning scarves and clothing Nuno sells all over the world.

I hope you’re as wowed as I am at how Sudo-san has drawn inspiration from technology and used technology to make inspiration a reality, but I also hope you can guess her second great superpower: inspiring others to innovate alongside her.

It’s evident from the exhibition videos shot at Nuno’s twenty-six manufacturing partners all over Japan that they love contributing their expertise to the design process and enjoy the new ways their traditional arts are being used to make cutting-edge fashion. Keeping these traditional manufacturers busy and profitable so their techniques will be kept alive for generations to come is something a number of Japanese companies are trying to do, but Sudo-san’s open-minded belief that how something is made is an integral part of the creative process is what makes a collaboration with Nuno so special.

If you’re in Japan right now, you still have a chance to see the absolutely fantastic Sudo Reiko: Making Nuno Textiles exhibition at the Mito Art Tower in Mito City. It’s well worth an hour on the train!