I did some more reading – specifically, reading some relevant essays from the book ‘Designed for Pleasure’ concerning Masanobu, mitate and Darmua – and one on Harunobu and the invention of nishiki-e.

I’m more convinced that little attention was being played to the possible Buddhist interpretations of Daruma, when he was depicted cavorting with courtesans and much more so to the amusing juxtaposition of a holy figure and a prostitute.

“…His whole demeanor suggests rather incriminatingly that, for all his vaunted self-discipline, this most austere personage must contend with a residue of human passion. During the Edo period, the frustration of living under repressive conditions pushed frivolous tendencies to the level of social satire, and it also contributed to an obsessive interest in amorous liaisons with the enchanting denizens of the pleasure quaters. It is not surprising that Daruma, seemingly so in control, became an object of parody and ribaldry.”

From: http://www.onmarkproductions.com/html/daruma.shtml#consorting

Masanobu, and others, popularized the art form of mitate-e – pictures that intentionally obscured their true message or showed material in surprising, new, ways. Harunobu built upon that – especially since that particular art form was so greatly appreciated by his clientele: Poetry clubs. These clubs routinely collected and exchanged prints – and the colorful, and intellectually stimulating, prints of Harunobu were a huge hit. Juxtaposing the stoic Darmua with an aspect of the floating world (a courtesan) served to provide a bit of levity and wit – especially since an identification of Daruma and an understanding of his history would be required to get the full humor of the print.

These essays were especially timely as another Harunobu mitate came up just recently on the Japanese Art History Forum by Sawako Chang that exhibits this symbolism:

In this particular picture there is a man and a women riding on a crustacean, a scroll, along with a octopus. It all seems rather absurd but given all the pieces, it makes a lot of sense.

Riding on a reed over the ocean is a direct reference to Daruma crossing the Yangtze river – in this case that particular action being taken in this fashion is absolutely a mitate. Another version of this event, by Harunobu, can be seen in this particular print in the British Musuem:

The large lobster is an instant give away that this is relating to the Ichikawa acting family (they used a red lobster as their particular emblem). For example, in the following surimono:

In the forum it was posited that the scroll reading could correlate to the famous scene of the Chushingura, in which a character is reading a scroll and a man, hiding under the porch, reads the bottom of it as it is lowered, unbeknownst to the reader.

All of this points to a solid conclusion that this is a mitate honoring an Ichikawa actor, playing off of the arrival of Daruma into China. Given that this is playing of an arrival it makes sense that this is likely the arrival of a new Ichikawa actor into the family.

A very rare edition of Ito Shinsui’s famous “After the bath” print has come up for auction at Floating World Auctions. According to them this print is actually from Shinsui’s teacher, Kaburagi Kiyokata – implying that this was likely a first draft given as a present.

(I would like to thank Floating World Auctions for providing pictures of the backs of their prints. So few auction houses do this and it’s greatly appreciated.)

It’s interesting though, when researching this particular print I came across the same exact print that was sold earlier this year at the Christie’s Japanese and Korean Art auction. (It’s easy to note the identical print as the baren patterns in the background are identical.) It’s also interesting to note that a wormhole on the beauty’s spine has since been repaired. You can see the difference for yourself:

Realizing that the original print went for $18,750 it’s hard to say whether a wormhole repair is worth the new minimum price of $30,000.

Watanabe Print Workshop published Ito Shinsui along with Hiroshi Yoshida, Kawase Hasui, and Torii Kotondo, amongst others. Watanabe effectively cornered the Shin Hanga market allowing many excellent artists to flourish.

This past weekend I had the opportunity to see a number of prints at Christies’ Japanese and Korean Art auction. Two of my favorites are, in fact, quite similar to Shinsui’s print.

The first is an exquisite print by Torii Kotondo. I highly recommend opening up the full scan so that you can see all the subtle detail. The colors are absolutely incredible. Many of the outlines are actually not lines at all but embossings from aggressive rubbing on the woodblock. I was hugely impressed by both the quality and the technique presented in this print.

Additionally I was also excited by this print from Utamaro:

With a fascinating composition and excellent design (as is common in Utamaro prints) the pearl mica really makes this print pop out of the page. The clothing is reduced to simple calligraphic lines and the patterns are a mish-mash of color. It’s interesting to see how similar the prints of stunning beauties are even with 130 years between them.

An upcoming auction at Leo Spik (in Germany) has a cool lot of 21 theatre albums. They include art from a number of Utagawa artists including Kunisada, Kunimori, and Kuniteru. I love the vibrant covers to the albums, absolutely eye-catching. They don’t go into the specifics, or show the contents, but based upon the covers and the artists I’m guessing their from the 1850s and likely include descriptions of plays and prints of actors. They’re estimating the lot at €250, which seems like a pretty good deal, considering all the material there.

The second is even more provocative.

This one tracks a single print and its display over about a decade. In this case the print was out in the open but not exposed to any direct sunlight. Even with the lack of direct light the print still faded significantly (losing much of its dark red and purple). This is certainly a harrowing reveal for anyone that is interested in displaying prints in their home.

I ran across this particular print in a lot of Japanese prints at an auction at I.M. Chait. It was quite different from most of the other prints that one sees come up for auction (Hiroshige re-prints, Toyokuni III actor prints, etc.). I decided to do a bit of investigation.

Based upon the style of the lines (very calligraphic in style), limited color palette, and lack of censor seal I was ready to date this print to the mid-1700s. To start, the print is done in a benizuri style (pink and green), this places the print squarely in the 1740s-1750s. The signature appears to be that of Torii Kiyomasu and given the time frame that would likely make it Torii Kiyomasu II.

The publisher’s seal is that of Maruya Kohei, who produced prints from 1747 to 1783 – and this particular seal was in use from 1750 – 1754. Kohei produced many actor prints including those of Kiyomasu II. This gives us a very specific time frame to look at.

As to identifying the print itself it’s obviously an actor print. The crests on the characters are quite large – there are two Ichikawa actors and one whose crest matches the Nakamura acting family. Reading the name next to the Nakamura actor reveals that it is Nakamura Denkurô (and given the time frame, Denkurô II would make the most sense). Reading the name next to the other actor reveals it to be Ichikawa Danjûrô (and given the time frame, Danjûrô IV would make the most sense).

As to the subject matter, the inclusion of two nearly-identical-looking actors tends to push for this being a Sogamono (a play about the Soga brothers). The large flaming deity I recognized from other prints as Fudō. Looking for a play that features both the Soga brother and the deity Fudō brings up the play Tsuwamono kongen Soga, originally played by Ichikawa Danjūrō I. The Danjuro line was frequently tied with Fudō and this particular play is part of their repertoire.

As to the exact date of the play, that’s not clear. There were a ton of Soga brothers plays (a new one each January) and a combined force of two Ichikawa actors and a Nakamura actor happened frequently. Given the publisher seal dates and the dates in which those actors were active, it would make sense if this print was from late 1754 or early 1755 (Ichikawa Danjûrô IV didn’t taken on his name until 1754, giving a rather precise dating).

I found some similar prints in the MFA’s collection as well:

The first two prints are other actor prints by Kiyonobu II in 1755 in a very similar style. The first print was even done by the same publisher and the second depicts a style closer to the one found in this print. The final print is an earlier one done by Kiyonobu I depicting Fudō.

And another print in the British Museum’s collection:

This one uses the same color scheme and has the same publisher’s seal, while also depicting an Ichikawa actor (in this case, Ichikawa Ebizo).

It’s unfortunate that the print is quite faded and mold-damaged, it’d certainly be a nice addition to any collection, otherwise.

Sources:

• Marks, Andreas. Publishers of Japanese Woodblock Prints: A Compendium.
• Hirose, Self. Japanese Art Signatures.
• Clark, Timothy. The Actor’s Image.
• Kabuki 21.

Update October 7, 2011: I’ve discovered another copy of this print at the Tokyo National Museum.

Finding this print yields a few more details that I had missed before: To start, the print is by Torii Kiyomasu II not Torii Kiyonobu II, I mis-read the last Kanji character.

Additionally it provides some detail as to where the scene takes place: At the Meguro Fudo Temple, which is fitting considering that this print features Fudō himself.

As far as I know the dates and other details I figured out are correct.

A copy of Hokusai’s Hundred Views of Mt. Fuji has come up for auction at Freeman’s Auction in Philadelphia.

This is a Japanese Woodblock print book (which is a sub-category of what is referred to a ‘Ehon’, picture books). The prints are designed by an artist (in this case, the famous Hokusai) and then carved by professional carvers (and then printed by professional printers). This book series was almost certainly created as a result of the popularity of Hokusai’s famous 36 Views of Mount Fuji (the one with the great wave).

Hokusai first started to publish the 36 Views print series in 1830. It was incredibly successful – in part due to his portrayal of the subject matter – but also because it was one of the first prints to make extensive use of Prussian Blue (a new ink import from China and Europe).

While this particular ehon doesn’t have any color, it certainly does have the fascinating charisma and design that is ever-present in Hokusai’s work.

Edo-era ehon were created as low-cost ways for people to get complete collections of their favorite prints. Since the prints were only in black it made it very easy to mass produce. (Most color prints were a mixture of black line and color prints – oftentimes publishers would do print runs of just the black line prints as a way to sell cheaper prints more efficiently.)

See larger image Hokusai: One Hundred Views of Mt Fuji (Hardcover) By (author) Henry D. Smith List Price: $35.00 USD New From: $86.70 In Stock Used from: $22.50 In Stock

A first edition copy has come up for sale in the recent catalog of the Boston Book Company.

Interestingly the price is really quite fair: Another copy sold at Christie’s for almost $500 more just 3 years ago.

Of course, the reprint (from 1967) is considerably less expensive, coming in at only $150, used. I haven’t heard any reviews of the book in particular – and considering what knowledge there was of prints in 1912 (not much, compared to now) the book probably doesn’t have much educational value beyond being a collector’s item.

The Japanese print: An interpretation (Hardcover) By (author) Frank Lloyd Wright Used from: $115.00 In Stock

This particular print is the best (in my opinion) print from Hiroshige’s posthumously-printed 36 Views of Mount Fuji series. It has expressive motion, vibrant colors, and depicts an incredible crashing over Mount Fuji – remind you something?

It should remind you of the famous print by the print master Hokusai: Great Wave off Kanagawa — from the series “36 Views of Mount Fuji“. The identical names for the series, and identical subject matter, was no mistake. Hokusai created his series a full 25-28 years before Hiroshige.

That’s not to say that Hiroshige was a slouch, around the same time as Hokusai’s famous series he was working on other famous works, such as his first interpretation of the Tokaido road, of particular fame is this print showing travelers running through the rain.

Hokusai was certainly far Hiroshige’s senior and it’s obvious that Hiroshige greatly respected his work. Doing another series with the same material and subject matter wasn’t really “thievery” or “copying” as we may expect in modern times – it was more of an homage. To draw a comparison, during this time in Edo (Tokyo) the Kabuki scene was very vibrant – that being said there was a relatively limited repertoire. Theatre-goers wanted to see and re-see their favorite plays, reinterpreted by their favorite actors. The same thing was happening here: The print-buying audience was assuredly clamoring for their new-favorite print designer, Hiroshige, to reinterpret a “classic” done by the old master.

Here is where the story takes a slight twist: This is actually Hiroshige’s second 36 Views of Mount Fuji series. His first series, printed in 1852 while he was still alive, is in a different format (half the size of the 1858-printed series and in a landscape format). The prints in the earlier series are just as interesting as the later series, however it never sold as well as the later one (for reasons unknown).

Interestingly the print posted here is actually the second reinterpretations of Hokusai’s great wave by Hiroshige, his first was: Rough Sea at Shichirigahama. Note the dramatically different style: You’re advancing along with the waves toward the mountain, their shape mimicking the mountain itself. It’s a rather exciting new look at the waves and really sets Hiroshige apart from Hokusai. I actually own this particular print (amusingly someone used the image of the print that I posted to Flickr on Wikipedia!).

One final note: The particular print image that was posted here appears to be from a copy that was on Wikipedia – but comes from some source that’s managed to crop off all the margins of the print. This is quite odd as the original includes wide margins and border around the print. Hiroshige did this in many of his prints, and intentionally so.

In case anyone is interested there is an original copy of this print up for sale at a reputable London-based dealer. It’ll likely set you back $10,000 or so.

When I started to dig more into the subject matter behind the actual Bunraku plays, however, it became quite apparent that I was approaching the subject entirely wrong: The characters and “actors” from Bunraku plays were being depicted as actual people, not as puppets.

For a single point of further exploration I chose a single Bunraku play: The Love-Inspired Murder (Koimusume mukashi hachijō).

A love story, this particular play features two characters very heavily: Okoma and Saizaburô (thus most of the prints that relate to this play typically feature these two). The play itself first came out in 1775 and is almost immediately depicted in print by Katsukawa Shunshô.

Eventually though the story ends up being featured very heavily in the prints of Utamaro during the 1790s and early 1800s.

As puppets:

As people:

And even erotically:

I found it very interesting to note just how differently the story of the play could be presented when divorced from the means through which it was originally told. As always, expertly presented by Utamaro.

More Information

• Columbia University
• Art Institute of Chicago
• Museum of Fine Arts
• Art Gallery of New South Wales
• British Museum
• Artelino
• Degener Fine Art Prints (2)
• Flickr Performing Arts Pictures

I did some more research this evening and realized that the reasoning behind this was two-fold:

While Noh was practiced before, and during, the Edo era it was predominantly an activity enjoyed by only the most aristocratic. This conflicted rather heavily with the Ukiyo-e medium as woodblock prints were predominantly a means for lay-people to acquire new pieces of art (and since they weren’t able to go to Noh performances they had little interest in seeing pictures of performers or plays). It wouldn’t surprise me learn if there were additional sumptuary laws preventing the explicit creation of prints that featured Noh theatre.

There only appears to be one Ukiyo-e artist that explicitly tackled the subject of Noh and that was Tsukioka Kōgyo – and he didn’t produce works until well into the Meiji and Taishō eras (late 1890s to mid 1920s).

Kōgyo created two series dedicated to Noh: One Hundred Noh Pictures (1897-1902) and One Hundred Noh Plays (1922-1926).

Looking through Kōgyo’s prints I quickly noticed two things: Their decidedly modern style and their similarity to Yoshitoshi’s prints. Reading more it became clear that this was more than just coincidence: Kōgyo was Yoshitoshi’s step-son.

Two Yoshitoshi pieces from his series One Hundred Aspects of the Moon jumped to mind when looking at some of Kōgyo’s work:

Admittedly the colors are much more vibrant (and the theme decidedly less Noh-centric) but the lines and spacing all indicate how clearly Yoshitoshi’s work inspired Kōgyo.

On the whole I think I find the use of empty space in the pieces done by Kōgyo to be the most interesting aspect of his work. Perhaps it’s due to the subject matter but the actors seem to lack any passion, making for some rather lifeless compositions. Even the costumes, which could be rather vibrant, seem to be dull and muted.

It’s a shame that this aspect of Japanese culture was relatively hidden from Ukiyo-e artists for so long. Perhaps with additional attention there could have been some interesting exploration done of the medium.

I hope to explore a copy of Hotei Publishing’s recent book on Kōgyo, entitled The Beauty of Silence, soon to see if it helps to change my opinion on his work.

Sources:

• http://www.brill.nl/default.aspx?partid=210&pid=28769
• https://secure.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/wiki/K%C5%8Dgyo_Tsukioka
• http://web-kiosk.scrippscollege.edu/prt414?sid=12048&rec=1&page=414
• http://www.carolynstaleyprints.com/
• http://www.artelino.com/articles/tsukioka_kogyo.asp
• http://www.artelino.com/articles/noh-plays.asp