SACRAMENTO, Calif. — On a bright and seasonably warm June morning, artist Steph Rue stands in her backyard over a vat of a cloudy slurry of fibers, about to demonstrate to a group of eager learners how to form sheets of paper.
Participants have traveled all over California to Rue's Sacramento home to learn how to make Korean mulberry paper, also known as hanji.
"Han" means Korea and "Ji" means paper, Rue would explain.
This is just one of many workshops Rue has hosted before, dedicated to teaching the art and history of Korean papermaking. This one, in collaboration with Kimmy Phi, will allow participants to turn raw bark material into paper, to be stitched into wearable hats.
An ancient tradition with a rich history
There is no written record of exactly when paper was invented, nor when it was transmitted from China to Korea, but it’s believed papermaking was practiced in Korea as early as the third century C.E. At that time, the earliest known extant Buddhist text, the Dharani Sutra, was printed in Korea on paper mulberry, known as 'dak.'
Hanji is made by using the inner bark of the paper mulberry, which is an indigenous tree grown and harvested in Korea. It’s what makes hanji durable and able to be used for so much more than something to put a pen or brush to.
“It can then be used in so many different ways, not just for important documents and paintings and prints, obviously, but also it’s used in Korea for flooring, for covering walls, windows, doors, furniture, lighting,” Rue explained.
The paper’s durability isn’t surprising when you learn about how it’s made. The process, which can take several days, includes a series of steps: steaming, scraping, cooking, rinsing, beating, sheet forming, couching, pressing and drying. Traditionally, making hanji has always been an activity done in community.
Building community through workshops
When Rue first learned to make hanji, she felt she was on a quest to save a “dying” art form. In 2015, she received a Fulbright scholarship, which allowed her to live in Korea for 10 months and learn how to make hanji from papermaking masters at mills in the countryside. Today, only about 24 hanji mills remain, a natural decline as technology advances and papermaking masters age out with few willing to continue the arduous tradition.
But increasingly, Rue's focus has been on community building in Sacramento. Now, she offers various workshops and teaches the art and history of hanji, while allowing participants to try making the paper themselves.
In 2023, Rue offered her first workshops exclusively for the Korean diaspora in Sacramento.
“I’ve always wanted to kind of offer what I’ve learned in Korea, things that are so specific to the Korean culture, to the Korean diaspora,” she said.
And selfishly, it was her way of meeting more Korean people in Sacramento, like Deborah Yang, who attended one of the workshops and quickly developed a natural friendship with Rue.
“I work in a clinic. That’s what I do full time. Thursdays I have a day off, so often if Steph has stuff that needs to be done or she might need help, I’m definitely a willing and eager helper,” Yang said.
Hosting workshops exclusively for the Korean community didn’t come naturally for Rue.
“(It was) that hesitancy or feeling like a disconnect with the community based on language or just having grown up here and not being Korean-Korean or Korean enough,” she said.
A fractured sense of identity
Despite her wealth of knowledge on an ancient art form so intrinsic and unique to Korean culture, Rue said growing up, she always felt disconnected from her heritage.
“Growing up in Cleveland or a suburb of Cleveland, there were not a lot of Korean people around me in my neighborhood,” Rue said.
Even while attending a Korean church, she rarely heard other kids her age speak in Korean. Although her parents enrolled her in a Korean school to attend on weekends, she only learned the basics.
“So when we would go back to Korea on trips to visit extended family, it was hard to communicate and it always felt like there was a disconnect between like who I was and what I looked like and I guess little things that we were raised with,” Rue said.
Now a mom of two in Sacramento, she wants to make sure her kids feel more connected to their identity and heritage, which has motivated her art practice.
Fulfilling a dream
At the hat making workshop, Rue makes conversation and spends time getting to know each of the participants, while guiding them through the various hanji making steps and answering questions along the way.
For Yaa Bruce, this was her first papermaking workshop with Rue.
“I’ve never done it before and I like to try new things and do things with my hands,” Bruce said. “It’s fun to learn the history but also actually try the act of papermaking.”
Aeri Swendson, a Korean adoptee, attended one of Rue’s workshops before for the Korean diaspora.
“It feels really nice to meet Koreans in all walks of life and everything, and to learn the process is so wild and intricate and I feel so grateful that Steph has been able to share this with me,” Swendson said.
Rue defines success for herself as ultimately connecting people with themselves and with each other.
“To have folks, whether they’re of the Korean diaspora or have an interest in it, for them to have a way to connect, whether it’s to nature or to their culture, to their history. Even folks who are not of the diaspora but have their own histories and maybe had not thought about accessing it through natural materials or through hand processes,” Rue said.
If you're interested in learning about and participating in future workshops, you can sign up for Steph's mailing list HERE.
Watch more Race and Culture stories: Les Tattoos: Female and LGBTQ-owned and operated tattoo shop in Sacramento