Kohei Murata — Hikihaku: When Gold Becomes Light
There is a moment — standing in front of one of Kohei Murata's pieces — when the light shifts, and the surface transforms entirely. What was gold becomes silver. What was still becomes alive. No photograph has ever captured it accurately. That is the point.

A Technique Over One Thousand Years Old
Hikihaku is one of Japan's oldest weaving techniques, with roots stretching back over a millennium to the workshops of Kyoto's Nishijin district. The process involves cutting real gold and silver foil into thin strips — sometimes just a fraction of a millimetre wide — and weaving them directly into fabric, thread by thread, on a hand-operated loom.
The result is a surface that behaves unlike any other material in the world of craft. It does not simply reflect light — it holds it, bends it, releases it slowly as the viewing angle changes. Collectors who have lived with Murata's pieces describe the experience the same way: the work never looks the same twice.

The Making
Kohei Murata works from his studio in Kyoto, the city that has been the spiritual home of Hikihaku for centuries. Each piece begins with the preparation of the foil — sheets of real gold and silver, beaten to extraordinary thinness, then cut by hand into strips no wider than a thread.
The weaving itself is an act of sustained attention. Each strip of foil must be placed with precision, tensioned correctly, and integrated into the fabric without tearing. A single piece can take days or weeks to complete. There is no shortcut, no machine that can replicate the judgment of the hand.
The finished work is then stretched, mounted, and framed — becoming something that sits at the precise intersection of textile, painting, and sculpture. It is wearable in theory. In practice, most collectors choose to display it.

What It Means to Own One
To own a piece by Kohei Murata is to bring something genuinely ancient into your home — not as a relic, but as a living presence. The work responds to the light in your room. It changes with the season, with the hour, with the weather outside your window.
Each piece is entirely one of a kind. Once it is sold, it will never exist again in quite that form. The foil, the weave, the particular fall of light it captures — these are singular. That is what Murata intends.
