Having faced abundant dust at Bridge Studio (almost 100 years old and abandoned for nearly 30 years until recently!), we decided to dig deeper into the topic of dust to make ourselves feel better. Surprisingly, we've discovered several creative projects that explore dust and its historical and cultural meanings, transforming this often negative element into something mysterious, fun, and compelling. Here are some of these projects and our reflections — these perspectives help us coexist with this unavoidable presence, neither ignoring it nor fighting it to the point of exhaustion, but instead learning from it.
Japanese folklore has a charming tradition of transforming everyday elements into supernatural creatures, including dust and soot! These adorable spirits are harmless to those who treat them kindly—they might even enjoy your sugar candy. :)
Susuwatari (soot sprites) are fictional fairy creatures (tsukumogami) that appear in the animated films "My Neighbor Totoro" and "Spirited Away" produced by Studio Ghibli. In the films, they are also called makkuro kurosuke or simply kurosuke (means ‘black things’). We can't talk about the connection between Japanese old houses and dust without also including soot. Smoke and soot from the traditional stoves in the house also protected the surface of the wood from unwanted insects and bacteria, which was much needed in humid regions such as Japan.
In the region where the story takes place, it is said that there are beings that fill homes with soot and dust, and when Satsuki and Mei (the main characters of "My Neighbor Totoro”) followed the presence of the Susuwatari up to the second floor, their hands and feet became completely black. The grandmother of the Ogaki family next door, who was managing the vacant house, immediately understood upon seeing them and said, "These must be Susuwatari," and when Tatsuo asked, "Are they yokai (supernatural creatures)?" she replied, "They ain't nothin' that scary" and "If you smile at 'em, they won't do no harm," telling them that she herself had seen Susuwatari when she was a child.
When thinking about dust, we must consider cleaning. I know it sounds tiring, but the topic of cleaning extends deeply into the cultural and historical elements of architecture! How we clean is an intentional act, reflecting the values and mindset of both era and society.
This book examines the work and technique of "arai" (washing), which removes physical dirt such as stains and discoloration on wood surfaces and manipulates the visual impression of aged buildings, from the history of Japanese architecture. It also explores how the aesthetic sense of "newness," symbolized by Ise Shrine, and the aesthetic sense of "aging," like the wabi-sabi of tea rooms, were cultivated and established, offering a new perspective on "architectural aging."
The ethics of the dust : Ruskin, John, 1819-1900
The Ethics of the Dust (1866) by John Ruskin is ostensibly about the moral and aesthetic lessons you can draw from crystals and minerals—presented as a series of imaginary conversations between Ruskin and a group of schoolgirls. “Dust” here is partly literal (the fine particles and crystalline forms that make up the material world), but also metaphorical. Ruskin uses a lump of filthy road mud—clay, sand, soot, and water—as a metaphor. Left in peace, each part could transform into something precious: sapphire, opal, diamond, snowflake. His point is that, like these particles, people and communities flourish not through conflict but through cooperation and calm, revealing hidden beauty in what first appears base.