To Ranshu Yano, a master indigo dyer based in Tokushima, indigo is not merely a material – it is a living companion. Practicing the traditional method of hon-aizome (natural lye fermentation indigo dyeing), he describes the indigo liquid as a sentient being with its own moods and needs. “Once a batch is ‘born,’ it begins to age, whether it is used or not,” he explains. The real challenge lies in sustaining its vitality by sensing and responding to subtle, wordless cues – its smell, its texture, its temperature, and the color it leaves on the hand. What is required is sharp observation, seasoned intuition, and a deep, almost spiritual discipline.

The dyeing process is physically and emotionally demanding. For example, when dyeing fabric to achieve a very deep, intense shade of navy – the kind once favored for samurai garments – each piece must be immersed in the fermented indigo dye bath and held there for a specific duration before being removed, gently wrung out, and exposed to air to oxidize. This cycle is 30 times or more. The process requires subtle judgment and sensitivity. “We don’t use timers,” Mr. Yano says. “Our hands and eyes just know. ”His arms are perpetually stained blue, a badge of experience honed over four decades.

Beyond its hues, natural indigo offers remarkable qualities. The fermented dye acts as a natural antiseptic and insect repellent, making it ideal for garments worn directly against the skin. “Even clothes for infants can be dyed with complete safety,” Mr. Yano notes.

In traditional indigo dyeing, two distinct types of artisans have sustained the craft through generations: the aishi, who produce sukumo – a fermented dye material made from dried tadeai (Japanese indigo) leaves – and the someshi, who use it to create dye vats and color fabric. These roles have historically been carried out by separate specialists, each with their own deep expertise. Although demand and labor have declined since the craft’s heyday, local initiatives like the regional revitalization program in Aizumi Town are working to nurture a new generation of both sukumo-making and dyeing. Mr. Yano mentors young apprentices and grows tadeai, not only to preserve the craft but to pass on its spirit to visitors from around the world.

His dedication extends beyond technique to the tools and rituals that surround the practice. The indigo is fermented in locally crafted Otani ware jars, and the sake added to the dye vat is first offered at a household shrine. “It’s not about religion,” he says. “It’s about beginning with respect.” This reverence for the process – the quiet, unspoken attention – echoes across Japan’s traditional arts, from sword-smithing to sake brewing.

Mr. Yano also speaks of yo no bi, the Japanese aesthetic of functional beauty. “Natural indigo shines brighter with every use,” Mr. Yano says. “Its beauty isn’t fixed – it sharpens, it radiates with life. That is the spirit of yo no bi.”

Mr. Yano speaks of color with reverence. The famed “forty-eight shades of indigo” – from airy asagi to near-black kachi-iro – are not simply technical outcomes. “Every shade has a name. Every shade has a story,” he says.

When presented with a watch from the Seiko Presage Classic Series featuring a curved dial in silk-inspired indigo, Mr. Yano was visibly moved. “The color is perfect,” he said. “It’s not too light, not too dark – just like one of the classic ai shades we strive to preserve.” He admired not only the tone, but also the watch’s soft sheen and flowing lines, which evoked the layered depth of silk-dyed indigo. “It feels like something created with deep respect for our tradition.”

To Mr. Yano, the Presage Classic Series is more than a beautiful watch – it is a meaningful bridge between traditional Japanese craftsmanship and the modern world. “This is how yo no bi should be,” he said, referring to the Japanese ideal of functional beauty. “When something is both practical and beautiful, and becomes richer through use, it stays close to us for a long time.”

In a time when speed and disposability dominate, Mr. Yano’s philosophy – and Presage’s quiet elegance – offers an alternative rooted in care, longevity, and harmony. “We don’t force results,” he says. “We listen, respond, and let the work become what it’s meant to be.” That, too, is the spirit of Japanese beauty.

Born and raised in Tokushima, Reki Nagahara grew up surrounded by indigo without fully realizing its depth or value. “It wasn’t until I left Tokushima and returned years later that I saw it with new eyes,” he reflects. What once felt ordinary revealed itself as an extraordinary symbol of place, memory, and beauty. Now, Mr. Nagahara channels his rediscovery into outreach across generations – from playful dyeing sessions with children to thoughtful exhibitions for adults. “I want people of all ages to feel connected to this tradition,” he says. “It’s not just about technique – it’s about identity, and the quiet beauty of daily life in Japan.”

This sense of identity links closely with his reflections on Japanese beauty. “To me, Japanese beauty isn’t something loud or decorative,” he says. “It’s something that feels honest and lived in. It comes from natural materials, quiet tones, and the marks of care and use.” In indigo, he sees a perfect embodiment of this philosophy: a material rooted in the land, humble in origin, and refined through human touch.

Mr. Nagahara’s indigo dyeing practice draws direct inspiration from nature. “The colors that resonate with me most are those you see at the horizon, where the ocean meets the sky,” he says. His indigo works are not uniform; they are layered, shifting, and infused with the subtleties of light and depth. “Indigo isn't just a single color. It has gradation, life, emotion.”

Equally important to him is how indigo feels. The traditional hon-ai fermentation dye is gentle on the skin and appreciated for its antimicrobial qualities. “People often tell me that once they start wearing indigo-dyed clothing, they don’t want to go back,” he says. This connection between comfort and beauty underscores his belief in Japanese functional beauty. “When something serves you well and lasts, it becomes more than just practical – it becomes beautiful,” he explains. “That’s the kind of beauty I try to create: things that feel right in the hand and right in the heart.”

Mr. Nagahara was deeply impressed upon seeing the Presage Classic Series watches, particularly their indigo dials and silk-inspired textures. “The blue was nuanced and warm, not flat or cold. It reminded me of how indigo reflects light at different angles,” he says. “The way the dial curved and shimmered – there was softness to it, like a piece of fine fabric.” He felt the design successfully captured both the visual and tactile essence of Japanese materials.

He also emphasized the uniqueness of Japanese silk: “It has a fineness and consistency that’s hard to replicate. It feels alive in the hand.” Combining silk’s subtle luster with indigo’s depth, he believes, offers a way to communicate Japanese aesthetics to global audiences through a familiar form – like a wristwatch.

Looking ahead, Mr. Nagahara sees design collaborations like the Presage Classic Series as key to transmitting Japanese beauty to future generations and overseas admirers. “The more we can embed our values into everyday objects, the more enduring our culture becomes. Watches, clothing, even packaging – these are all vessels for stories.”

Asked what the next steps are for preserving indigo traditions, he does not hesitate: “We need to keep creating. But we must also be teaching, showing, and inviting others in. That’s how we build the future – not by holding the past tightly, but by dyeing new threads into the fabric.”