The question of whether clothing, other cloth artifacts, or cloth itself constitute "art works" is provoking but remains so far unanswered. As a textile historian, working on the margins of "art," this question has in turn cast doubt for me on the usefulness and meaning of the designation of an object as a "work of art."
     The minsa-obi, a narrow, indigo-dyed ikat-patterned cotton sash, may be one of those artifacts destined never to be designated an "art work." It has been admired for its aesthetic qualities, although this admiration has been bound by the problematic term, mingei. As such, no one has examined the layers of value accrued to it over time among the people who have made and used it.
     The minsa- sash has not been collected by Japan's national museums, and is not even widely represented in collections of so-called "folk art." As a Moving Object, unlike objects within the value system of "art works" its motion has not been primarily spatial: transfer from the producers’ hands to art collections, or from one region to another. Rather, still made and worn on five islands in Yaeyama, it has moved across boundaries of class, usage, meaning, and technology.
     Unfortunately, the precise points at which it has undergone movement in space exist primarily in a series of lacunae, defined by their beginning and end points. How the technology and design of the sash was transmitted among the islands of Yaeyama, and, perhaps more importantly, how and from where they entered Yaeyama in the first place, remain obscure. The single documented instance of spatial transfer (1876) indicates that a local government official in Yaeyama brought a number of minsa- sashes as presents to members of the gentry and nobility in Shuri (Okinawa Island), the location of the Ryûkyû monarchy. The significance of this event lies in its establishing the association of the sash with the gentry, as opposed to the commoner (heimin), class. In fact, its spatial movement was only temporary, in the sense that it did not instigate production outside of Yaeyama.
     On the other hand, it is clear that as the sash has moved through time, it has undergone complex changes of context and meaning, as well as concrete transformations of design and material.
     My paper will examine these transformations of the minsa- sash, pointing out the spatial lacunae, from its earliest documented association with the Ryûkyûan gentry immediately before Japan's annexation of the kingdom in 1879, to its use today by the people of Taketomi, Kohama, Ishigaki, Iriomote, and Yonaguni as a symbol of their constructed identity as "simple island people." This recent valuation of the sash as symbol has been intentional, involving community-based as well as outside commercial development and political utilization.