COLLECTING

JAPANESE
ANTIQUES
Ishō ningyō of Hotei, one of seven lucky gods, early 19th c., ht 13 in (33 cm). Rosen Collection.
Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Two hibachi (braziers), hand-painted blue-and-white porcelain, early 20th c. Photo courtesy
Kurofune Antiques.
Published by Tuttle Publishing, an imprint of Periplus Editions (HK) Ltd.

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Copyright ©2004 Alistair Seton

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Netsuke, ivory, of Seiōbo ("queen mother of the west") holding a peach branch, anon., 18th c., 5
in (13 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
CONTENTS

Japan's Art Heritage

Collecting for Fun and with Wisdom
Screens and Scrolls
Ukiyo-e and Other Prints
Sagemono
Ceramics
Furniture
Textiles
Lacquerware
Cloisonné
Sculpture and Metalwork
Swords and Armor
Tea Ceremony Utensils
 Dolls
Flower Baskets
Bibliography
Index
Acknowledgments

Gold lacquer and metal inlay five-case inrō, angel and aristocrat design, signed Kama Kyūhaku
and Hamano Kuzui; roiro and gold writing box netsuke and peach ojime in wood and shell inlay.
Author's Collection.
JAPAN'S ART HERITAGE

Art in Japan has a long and glorious history that compares with that of any
civilization. This book is not a history of Japanese art. After a short survey of
many interesting features, old things are looked at with a collector's eye and an
awareness that most ancient masterpieces are in temples and museums and are
therefore unavailable for purchase. Yet those areas also deserve to be known and
studied, like those to which collectors gravitate either from choice or fate. The
aim is to provide some historical background, then examples and analysis in
areas where collecting is feasible. Information and advice is offered to the
would-be collector or the simply curious.

Japan as a Storehouse
Japan is a kind of attic of ancient art. Ever since the building of the Shōsōin
Imperial Storehouse in AD 756, leaders have deliberately preserved as much as
possible of the past. One might say that a kura (a fireproof storehouse built near
the houses of the wealthy) is an apt image for the whole country. Wars may have
devastated Kyoto, and the "flowers of Edo" (a term used to describe terrible,
dangerous city fires) burnt much that was beautiful in Tokyo, but much too has
been kept or rebuilt. The scope of the Imperial Collections attests to the desire to
retain good things from the past. Even after taking power from the court, the
shōgun (military dictators) proved they were men of culture, building on past
achievements and patronizing great artists. Temples and shrines also played a
vital role in preserving treasures against time, theft, and fire.
An astonishing number of Heian era (794-1185) and older objects remain in
the safekeeping of shrines and temples, and important families. Much is owed to
the generations of priests and others who kept the flame alive. They could have
made their own lives easier by selling off the past but managed against the odds
to save a great artistic and cultural heritage for the future.
Hōryūji, a great seventh-century temple near Nara, is particularly famous for
hoarding the past. A thirteenth-century catalogue reveals its secret vaults hold
1.32 tons of gold, 10,000 copper roofing tiles, and 30,000 mirrors. Although the
location is known, the priests will not open the vaults. Tradition says Regent
Shōtoku Taishi (574-622) ordered them not to be opened for a thousand years
after his death, and only later if finances were dire. Hōryūji has faced penury but
still the priests refused to open them to historians. According to Ishikawa
Takeshi in Traditions: A Thousand Years of Japanese Beauty, it sold thousands
of the pagodas given by Empress Shōtoku in 770; each contains a mystic prayer
verse or dharani. These mystic prayer verses are the oldest extant printed matter
in the world. Hōryūji still has 40,300 of the 100,000 bequeathed!
Another statue of Kan'non (Goddess of Mercy) had been kept sealed since
the seventh century in the nearby Hall of Dreams (Yumedono), rumored to be on
the site where Shōtoku Taishi lived, which may have caused the secrecy, and he
may be the model. In the late nineteenth century, the famous American
aesthetician Ernest Fenollosa, sculptor Kanō Tessai, and art theorist Okakura
Tenshin demanded to be shown it. They were refused but persisted though the
priests said the heavens would open. Tenshin got in and was greeted by 1,200
years of stale air but the three found a superb Asuka-era (seventh-century)
Kan'non in perfect condition, as related by Fenollosa in his Epochs of Chinese
and Japanese Art.
Fig. 1 Jōmon (rope-patterned) earthen jar, mid-Jōmon era, ca. 3000 sc, ht 9 in (23 cm), excavated
at Chō-jagahara, Ni'igata Prefecture. Jar has characteristic raised, flame-like relief lines and
animal designs. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 2 Fourteen dōtaku (ceremonial bells) and seven halberd heads from Sakuragaoka-chō, Kobe,
mid-Yayoi era (AD 100?), designated National Treasures, max. ht of dōtaku 25 in (63 cm),
halberds 11 in (28 cm) long. Photo courtesy Kobe City Museum.

Spareness, Asymmetry, and Stylization

From Heian times, when sexual morality was less important than aesthetic taste,
Japanese art has tended to avoid depicting the ugly or vulgar and to concentrate
instead on nature rather than man, the symbolic rather than the realistic. The
major thrust is yūgen or refined, near mystical elegance, showing an almost
feminine sensibility. It has delighted in flowing lines and irregular shapes,
eschewing the square or symmetrical, and has accepted that art is impermanent-
hence the attraction of three-day cherry petals and mono no aware (the pathos of
transience). Typical materials seem fragile to a Western eye: wooden temples,
bark roofs, mud walls, straw mat floors, translucent paper windows, paper
scrolls and prints.
Telling concepts include an aim for simplicity (words like wabi and sabi,
meaning austere simplicity with a hint of loneliness), or shibui (restrained,
avoiding the showy), as well as an uncluttered or empty space (ma) which allows
the onlooker to add his own something. Interestingly, ma is applied in all the arts,
even music where silence may convey more than sound, and in comic theater
where timing is everything.
Spareness is valued in the look of a page and the brevity of a poem (hence
haiku's mere three lines and waka's five), an understated teahouse, unsculpted
stone lantern, or a flowerless pebble garden. Artists aim to achieve such
technical mastery that they can create a work with muga (no gap between the
imaginative moment and the accomplishment), whereas a lesser artist feels some
veil, some hesitation between his wish and the fulfillment.
Stylization (yōshiki-ka) and stratification into hierarchies have always been
important. If you look at people in older art or later woodblock prints (ukiyo-e),
they tend to have the traditional "hook nose and line mouth;' so reveal no
individuality or realism. In a way "a woman is a woman," without thinking about
what makes her unique. At the same time, artists have been categorized since
around 1600 in ascending order of honor into hōkyō, hōgen, and hoin, so
signatures on scrolls may start, for example, with hagen. Titles like tenka-ichi
("best under heaven" but really "best in Japan") and jō-ichi ("best locksmith")
have also been given.
Interesting technical facets include the way space is broken up in paintings
by clouds to delineate areas (we see this in screens, where distant Mt Fuji could
be "near" Kyoto) or form a general background, and in furniture by chigaidana,
interrupted shelving, where a shelf ends halfway with a descent to a higher/lower
level, with an S-bend or angular corner. A desire for subdued simplicity has co-
existed with sumptuous gold screens and lacquerware, the Golden Phoenix
Pavilion at Uji, and the gaudy, overdecorated temples of Nikkō (though this is
not the core of Japan's aesthetic tradition as the temples were erected for political
reasons).
An excellent statement of Japan's aesthetic is Tsurezuregusa (Essays in
Idleness), written about 1330 by Yoshida Kenkō. He praises the under-or
overripe, the no longer perfect, the frayed but good quality scroll over the new.
He also believed that it was beginnings and ends that are interesting. Modern
Japanese have forgotten the latter but continue to enjoy the bud more than the
flower. In all, the keen aesthetic sense in Japan's ferocious yet graceful ancient
sculptures, medieval swords, sixteenth-century screens, castles, Edo era netsuke
and inrō (netsuke are obi or belt counter-balancers and inrō little drawered boxes
dangling from the obi) and kimono is a major component of mankind's artistic
heritage.
Fig. 3 Male haniwa, Kofun era (6th c.), ht 29 1/2 in (75 cm), excavated at Wakiya, Gunma
Prefecture. The figure has a sedge hat, mizura hair style, short sword, and hoe. Other haniwa
were warriors, female shamans, and farmers with tools or weapons. Photo courtesy Kyoto
National Museum.

Unknown and Speculative Early History

The first examples found in Japan of works embodying man's desire for beauty
are the recently found ca. 15,000-year-old pottery shards from the Jōmon period
(13000-300 BC)-as old as anywhere on earth. At that time, Japan was probably
still linked to Korea and Russia. When the Ice Age ended, the Japan Sea rose,
leaving Japan an archipelago. Naturally, many Jōmon pieces are incomplete, but
fascinate us with their weird crowns or arabesque tracery and rope-induced
markings. The law says that newly excavated items belong to the state and
Jōmon pieces are not readily available to collectors, but pieces do reach the
market and recent shows (for example, at the British Museum in 2001) have
revealed how wonderful these pots are with their incredible crowns (Fig. 1).
The Jōmon gave way to the Yayoi era (300 BC-AD 300) when pots became
restrained, but more typical are the dōtaku or ceremonial bronze bells (Fig. 2).
The Kofun era (AD 300-710) is named after its massive grave mounds or tumuli.
Earlier human sacrifices were replaced by earthenware servants, soldiers, and
animals to accompany the rich on their journey into the next life: these
fascinating figures are called haniwa (Fig. 3). They appear goofy to some and
charming to others in current reproductions. The many extant bronze mirrors had
magical powers (they could see spirits) as well as practical use in checking one's
coiffure or make-up.
Imperial burial mounds are huge and their secrets carefully hidden by the
Imperial Household Agency. The Wajinden section on Japan of the third-century
Chinese history Wei Zhi tells us about the shaman queen Himiko of Yamatai
being buried in a tumulus, along with 100 male and female servants. The 80 acre
(32.3 hectare) burial mound of Nintoku (r. 395-427) is very impressive from the
air. Important secrets will be revealed when permission is finally given for
archaeologists to enter this vast grave south of Osaka.
From the sixth century, a cultural tide flowed in from Korea and China,
bringing knowledge of Buddhism and advanced arts of the two countries, like
metalworking, textile weaving; and government. Later, a quarter of the courtiers
were said to be Koreans.

The First Buddhist Masterpieces

There was considerable opposition to Buddhism from nationalists but this did
not halt the completion of the first large temples by the end of the sixth century
(Shiten'nōji in 593; Asukadera in 596; Wakakusadera ca. 607, near Osaka).
Architects and artists started from Korean and Chinese originals. We know that
Shiba Tori, grandson of a Chinese temple craftsman, sculpted many of their
main images. The great early Buddhist temples were set up in or near Nara.
Hōryūji was built ca. 650-711; Yakushiji ca. 700; Kōfukuji ca. 720; Tōdaiji was
finished in 752 and its Shōsōin Imperial Storehouse four years later, and
Tōshōdaiji in the mid-late eighth century. Together they form the best of ancient
architecture and house much of the greatest sculpture and other art treasures.
 After the court moved to Kyoto in 794, new forms of Buddhism were
propagated by Saichō on Mount Hiei to the northeast and Kūkai (also known as
Kōbō Daishi) at nearby Tōji and Mt Kōya, many miles away to the south. Both
went to China to study in 804. On their return, Saichō tried to synthesize the
various traditions and strains in the Tendai sect, while Kūkai taught that
Shingon, an esoteric sect with many exotic rituals, was the only true path. Tōji
has the best-known pagoda in Japan (though those of Murōji and Daigoji are
great too) and the temple is still called Kōbō-san by locals after Kūkai. People
flock there on the 21st of every month.
Mandalas (geometric and figurative representations of religious ideas),
Buddha images, Bodhisattvas, and ideas of Buddhism were brought from China
and copied to teach its tenets, and they are some of the most fascinating images
of the period (Fig. 4). Buddhism has been the fount of much of Japan's plastic
and literary art ever since. Collectors will see this in the many pictures of, for
example, the Wind God, or the guardians depicted in front of temples.

The Heian Era

The peaceful Heian era is famous today as the time when Japanese taste reached
a zenith (Genji Monogatari, ca. 995, is still the most admired novel in Japanese
literature and probably the world's first), and courtiers built a life dedicated to
poetry, music, fine clothing, and ceremony. Their pleasure in life and
aestheticism were reflect-edina turning away from the horrifying earlier images
of Shukongōjin (the Niō statues at the entrance to temples, for example, at
Tōdaiji) or Fudō Myōō (the angry-looking Dainichi Nyorai) and the ascetic
demands of the Shingon sect, towards the Pure Land of Amida Buddha in which
repeated chanting of the prayer Namu Amida Butsu (Hail to the Buddha Amida)
was enough to let a believer into the Western Paradise.
To take away man's fear of death, a doctrine grew up of a ceremony at which
Amida comes in person to welcome a dying person into Paradise. This raigō
scene became common in art, so many scrolls and other works depict it,
including the Phoenix Hall (1053) of the Byōdōin at Uji, south of Kyoto,
considered by many to be the most beautiful building in Japan; you see it on the
10 yen coin. Another change is the gradual swing to Yamato-e. These images
depict the softer landscapes and delicate changing seasons of Japan, not the
wilder countryside of China, and stress the quintessential Japanese motifs of
maples, pines, wisteria, and winding streams in attractive tints-mainly lay
themes. The Yamato-e tradition continued for centuries and many of the pictures
in the chapter on screens fit into this category.

Fig. 4 Mandala of Dakini-ten, Muromachi era (ca. 1500), hanging scroll, color on silk, 32 x 16 in
(81 x 41 cm). Taman Collection. Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.
 A typical Japanese pictorial technique-fukinuki yatai or roofless rooms-first
appeared in 1069, and these are often seen on e-makimono or hand-rolled
scrolls. From above, at an oblique angle, the viewer sees people, often courtiers,
interacting in palace rooms. The stories focus on feelings and were labeled
women's pictures, while the war histories were considered men's, with fast
action-like modern comics.
After centuries of peace, the Heian period ended with nationwide war (1180-
85) between the Taira and Minamoto clans. The defeated Taira vengefully
torched the great temple of Tōdaiji, appalling the nation. The Great Buddha
survived.

The Kamakura and Muromachi Eras

With peace, reconstruction followed during the Kamakura (1185-1333) and
Muromachi (1333-1573) eras. Tōdaiji was rebuilt and much else. The Kei family
of sculptors in Nara (Kokei, Unkei, Kaikei, and Jōkei are the most famous) made
many of the finest (and often fearsome) replacements, mainly chiseled in wood,
marking a great period in Japan's sculpture.
The nation, however, fell into despondency. The horrors of civil war and
endless suffering brought about a feeling of dislocation and fear of the afterlife,
so many pictures portray the worlds of suffering there in rokudō-e (six realms of
unenlightenment, humans, animals, ever-fighting demons, hungry demons, and
those in hell) so salvation seemed no longer easy. New Pure Land Buddhist sects
grew up to comfort people, and there was renewed interest in raigō and
mandalas, such as the Taima Mandala which could help people visualize the
teachings by employing diagrams.

The Impact of Zen

In the late twelfth century, Zen entered Japan. Its emphasis on personal effort,
meditation, self-discipline, and intellectual stringency, appealed to the military
class. Zen masters relied on zazen (seated meditation), kōan (intellectual puzzles
to tease the mind into achieving mental breakthroughs on the path to
enlightenment or satori), and personal contact, rather than scripture. Zen also led
to new artistic approaches: kare-sansui (rock/pebble gardens) were designed to
let a meditator look into them and see aspects of life. Zen paintings tended to
portray people on the edge of society, like the clowns Kanzan and Jittoku, and
include humor; often they have an unfinished look, as though they had been
dashed off in a trice. Kaō Ninga and Mokuan Reien (flourished, hereafter "fl.")
fourteenth century) were early masters, while Kichizan Minchō (1352-1431) was
more formal in works like the "Nehanzu" (Buddha's deathbed scene) that he
painted for Tōfukuji in Kyoto. Sesshū Tōyō (1420-1506) was the greatest Zen
painter-priest, excelling at landscapes (Fig. 5) with brushwork influenced by his
long sojourn in China.
In later ages, the artistic side of Zen dried up but Hakuin Ekaku (1685-1768)
produced some of the most memorable images ever, though he was not trained
as a painter. His picture of Daruma (the founder of Zen Buddhism in Japan) (Fig.
6) is the epitome of all that is wonderful in imaginative portraiture. Short
statements of Zen tenets are common in scrolls and usually very affordable.

The Golden Age of Screens

Tosa Mitsunobu (b. 1434), a famous court painter, is thought to have made the
first large rakuchū rakugai screens, depicting Kyoto and its environs. During the
next century, such genres and other large pictures in the blue and gold,
landscape, and figural styles became extremely popular among daimyō
(provincial governors and landowners) who wanted large pictures painted on
doors (fusuma) and screens (byōbu) to demonstrate their power.
The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were a golden age for painting.
Kanō Eitoku (1543-90), schooled by his grandfather Motonobu, excelled at bold
designs, both colored and black and white. Inheriting good connections with
daimyō, he received many commissions as they rebuilt after a century of war.
His trees particularly are dramatic. Formerly, artists placed trees at corners,
echoing the geometry of rooms, but his straddle the center. In a very modern
way, only the base of a tree trunk is shown: we imagine the tip of the towering
trunk but see only the first few feet, for example, of the cypress. Kanō
Mitsunobu and Sanraku continued the tradition, but softened it, so their work is
less dramatic and more decorative. Others trained in the school were Hasegawa
Tōhaku and Kaihō Yushō, who excelled at wispy nature scenes.
Sōtatsu, the owner of the Tawaraya fan shop in Kyoto, was perhaps the
greatest artist of the early seventeenth century. Works like the Matsushima
screen "Gods of Wind and Fire," and the "Deer" hand scroll have Eitoku's scope,
greater creativity of line, but not his apocopation. His style was taken forward by
a descendant, Ogata Kōrin (1658-1716), who did wonderful flowing pictures of
streams and clusters of irises. His mantle was taken up by Ki'itsu. These are
termed Rimpa artists, literally Kōrin school followers.
 The Kanō school continued for centuries, by adapting. Kanō Tanyū (1602-
74) paved the way. He moved to Edo, the modern Tokyo, to be near the military
rulers, followed by three other painter members of his family, who set up studios
and became hereditary official painters. Tanyū, grandson of Eitoku, was
conservative in his work, but also varied his output. He painted Confucian
themes and revived Yamato-e battle scenes. Kanō Osanobu (1796-1846) was the
last well-known family member.
A number of Muromachi arts grew into some of Japan's most idiosyncratic
and defining forms of expression-which matters to collectors, as their values
permeate taste in the country.

Non-Portable Arts
Tea Drinking
Zen priests and warriors were the main practitioners of Tea drinking in the first
centuries. Gradually the custom spread and knowledge of Tea became a requisite
for cultured men. To show his respect for it, in 1587 Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536-
98, r. 1582-98) invited all and sundry to Kitano Shrine, Kyoto, to attend the
greatest Tea party ever given; it lasted ten days. Another time he had a
completely gold tea room and tea utensils made, took it to the Emperor and
served him tea in it, then took it back to his own palace-at a time when tea
houses were austere and simple (Fig. 7).
Fig. 5 Sesshū Tōyō (1420-1506), "Landscape of Four Seasons" (detail), hand scroll, ink and light
color on paper, late 15th c., 8 in x 38ft (20 cm x 11.6 m). Brush strokes and composition recall
Song China. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

Takeno Jōō (1502-55) and Sen Rikyū (1522-91) were famous sixteenth-
century Tea masters. They idealized the quiet and ordinary (wabi) over the
extravagant. The tea room came to have only four and a half mats with a low or
"crawl door" so that even nobles had to bend their heads to enter-in humility
(swords were left outside), but also in serenity, having sauntered through a
garden of tranquility scattered with apparently naturally fallen petals or leaves,
putting the cares of state behind them.
Wabicha Tea masters, who stressed the simple and restrained, moved away
from imported utensils such as temmoku, hare's tooth, and other famous Chinese
bowls, seeking locally made bamboo ladles and pots, praising them for their
natural simplicity. This led to the growth of new ceramic forms: black, white,
and gray Seta wares were plain; Oribe had rich greens and more varied patterns;
Karatsu was high-fired stoneware with attractive, quiet painting; Raku was low-
fired, simple-to-make-by-hand ware. Its appeal lay in the surprises possible
when it was taken still hot out of the kiln, and its suitability for amateurs, as it
was not made on the wheel. Examples of all these are in the market, though later
examples are more easily available and, naturally, cheaper.
 Practicing Tea has encouraged people to look at things with an aesthete's
eye. Little outwardly happens in a tea house so the few but often historically
valuable things round you in a tiny room take on added significance: your eyes
get trained. This focus and attention to detail is exemplified by Sen Rikyū's
minimalist approach to the magnificent flowering bushes on the way to
Hideyoshi's tea house at Jurakudai Palace. He cut them all off, but the most
magnificent bloom he placed in the alcove so that guests would concentrate on
that, which in turn stood for all flowers-seen through a magnifying glass.
The same may be said of the elaborate ritual (temae) for serving tea. An
extraordinary amount of time is first spent cleaning the garden, room, and
utensils, and the guests continue this by ritual washings. The host shows his skill
by performing in front of his guests. As he prepares tea, there is a set etiquette of
movements and conversation, closely mirroring the patterns of daily life where a
set phrase still sets off a question or greeting today. In a significant anomaly,
given the rigid patterns, each tea ceremony is looked at as being unique-the only
time that these few people meet, drink tea, and talk about this and that-which
will never happen again in the same way.
With this scrupulous attention to detail and cleanliness, and insistence on the
prescribed order, Tea seems to epitomize many of the deepest patterns in
Japanese life. Murata Shuko, a pioneer of the Tea ceremony, sums it up: "It is
not an amusement or technique, but enjoyment of enlightened satisfaction."
Tierney quotes Okakura Kakuzō: "Cha-no-yu (Tea ceremony) is a whole
point of view about man and nature," and goes on to say, "It is a case of harmony
with nature rather than against it." Better perhaps is Tea master Sen Soshitsu's
comment that it is a mental discipline to "satisfy a spiritual thirst... moistening a
dry life."
Fig. 6 Hakuin Ekaku (1685-1768), "Da ruma," hanging scroll, ink on paper, 51 x 21 1/2 in (130 x 55
cm). Photo courtesy Osaka City Museum of Modern Art.
Fig. 7 "Portrait of Toyotomi Hideyoshi," hanging scroll, inscribed by Ikyō, dated 1600, color on silk,
43 x 18 in (109 x 46 cm). Painted two years after Hideyoshi's death, it may be a remembered
likeness. Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.

Ikebana: Taming Nature by Season

Since earlier centuries, as part of worship, people had put flowers into vases
pointing upward (tatebana) to deities in heaven. In a pattern typical of Japan, the
form became stylized. Flowers were not simply thrust into a bowl. At the same
time, flowers had become a part of Japanese poetry: the poetic trinity of the
moon, snow, and flowers (especially cherries) was established and parties were
held to admire them and write poems about them. A game (hana-awase or flower
matching) was played by teams, going off into the fields and vying to collect the
best bunch.
The game went out of fashion but revived differently under the rulers
Ashikaga Yoshimitsu and Yoshimasa. Ming vases were coming in and people
compared them while holding flowers at flower parties (kakai). Soon, given
people's natural urge to compete, they tried to make their vase look better by
arranging the flowers artistically. Fame came to court assistant Ryū-ami and
Ikenobō Senkei, priest and founder of the still-extant Ikenobō flower
arrangement school. He made his first well-known ikebana in 1462.
As people's taste for the way of flowers (kadō) developed, they wanted to
keep the fiction that you just happened to have found the plants that way (not
only obviously pretty flowers but bamboo and herbs too) in the countryside, so
they were arranged to echo natural settings. Rules were adopted. The central
stem was its shin (spirit) and asymmetrically around it were placed others that
supported it. For formal occasions, the main stem was straight, so it would be
dignified, but on informal occasions a crooked plant was chosen instead. There
always had to be a strong sense of the current season, so flowers were chosen to
stress it.
Rikka styles were mainstream for centuries. They were full of symbolism,
with seven points and positive (yin) and negative (yang) sides. The high point
represented Mt Sumeru, the Buddhist world center. Rikka became even more
complicated in the late eighteenth century with nine points. In the later sixteenth
century, and probably as a result of Sen Rikū's example, the simpler nageire
(literally "chucking them in" style) gained popularity among Tea people, as it
echoed the wabicha ethos, using one or just a few rather less fancy flowers. A
century later came the shoka or seika style, in reaction to the rikka's complexity.
It aimed at being dignified like the rikka but also simple, trying to express a
flower's nature. A common pattern was triangular and later the terminology for
this became ten (sky), chi (earth), and jin (man). Usually arrangements started 4
inches (10 cm) above the container, whichever style was used. The
categorization and multiplicity of styles is very Japanese.
New ideas have flooded in since Meiji (1868-1912), and of course the whole
corpus of Western and other exotic flowers. Today, there are a couple of
thousand ikebana schools. Ohara Unshin felt that Ikenobō styles were too
spindly and top heavy, so lowered his center of aesthetic gravity, and in 1897 at
Osaka brought in the moribana ("piled up") style and low, shallow containers
(suiban) to great acclaim. The Ikenobō school remains traditional but
experiments with modern styles. The post-war Sōgetsu school advocates free
arrangements and wide-ranging materials, but, old and new, schools borrow
from each other, so that Ohara's assemblages often include non-traditional
materials and Sōgetsu's sculptural works (one was called "Locomotive"!) no
longer shock.
Meanwhile, Ikebana International (founded in 1956 by Ellen Gordon Allen)
spreads the word around the world that flower aesthetics are exciting, enjoyable,
and beautiful. Collectors will find that many scrolls reflect the influence of
flower arrangements.

Bonsai: Trees Kept Miniature

The same deep interest underlies bonsai, in which one produces a personal,
stylized natural beauty in a pot-but the plant continues to live (Fig. 8). A potted
plant stays as one buys it, but a bonsai is gradually changed to meet some ideal
of its owner (and often his descendants). It is guided to develop in certain ways
while remaining within the confines of a planter. Landscapes laid out on a tray
using also stones and earth are not felt to be true bonsai but bonkei.
Originating in China, the first evidence of bonsai in Japan is in a picture
scroll of 1195. One element setting Japan's bonsai apart from China's is their
strict classification by type. The oldest extant bonsai was planted by Tokugawa
Iemitsu nearly 400 years ago. The variety of trees grown has expanded from
traditional pines, junipers, plums, and maples to include low bushes like azaleas.
Though the word "dwarf" springs to mind, most bonsai trees are standard
species. Occasionally, bonsai lovers search in wild, windswept places for
naturally occurring miniatures. Trees are primarily kept small by deliberate
pruning, using shallow containers, pinching off new growth, and repotting every
year or two. Heights range from some 2 inches (5 cm) to 3 feet (1 m). The
container is often oval for deciduous trees and rectangular for evergreens, but it
also depends on the style. Glazed pots work well with flowering trees, while
unglazed pots give a look of age. Styles like upright, slanting, cascading,
twisting trunk, weeping cascade, twin trunk, clumped or forest, and clinging are
self-explanatory. In all cases, asymmetry is de rigueur (never planted in the
middle, and leaning from the outside to the inside if it leans), as is a good
balance between the pot and the tree's size and height.
A natural look, achieved with no evidence of human tampering, matters too.
Usually one side is the front or viewing side. Traditionally, a tree is wider at the
base and then slimmer, but bunjin (literati scholars) liked to joke and do it the
other way round. People talk of a tri-relationship between life (or deity), the
bonsai grower, and the tree, while the form of the tree often turns out to be
triangular, to please the eye. The grower's nature matters too; he must have all
the virtues of patience.
Bonsai shows are common all over Japan and buying is possible. Many of
the best growers will appear unwilling to sell at first, though acquaintance may
change that. There has been a recent explosion in the number of gardening
centers. In general, Japanese bonsai fans are no longer young and find it
soothing to putter around in the garden. Before you get carried away, you might
want to check the applicable pla nt quarantine rules if you will be moving
country. With increasing interest in gardening (and urbanization's smaller
spaces), bonsai may well become more popular.

Gardens
Unlike France's regimented, geometrical gardens, or Britain with both
regimented and natural ones, Japan's gardens have always aimed at creating "a
natural landscape with aesthetic value," as Ishikawa Takeshi puts it in his
Traditions: A Thousand Years of Japanese Beauty. He adds that the first
recorded garden was made at the Asuka mansion of Soga Umako in AD 620, with
several islands (rocks) in a pond. The word for gardens then was shima (island),
so a marine setting must have been basic. The aristocrats living inland at Nara
probably pined for the sea they only saw on official trips and so chose this name
to distinguish it from farming.
The parts of a garden were symbols for a whole: weathered rocks formed
islands and a tree a wood on the shore. In later centuries rock and carefully raked
gravel gardens (kare-sansui) bounded by walls inspired Zen adepts to meditate
and seek satori (enlightenment). Pure Land (Jōdo) gardens, such as the Phoenix
Hall at Uji, tried to show paradise through a treasure pond with bridges that
could lead the believer into heaven. Later, the concept became less religious and
more of a cultural pursuit, such as Kokedera at Kyoto with its various mosses
carpeting trees, or Kinkakuji and Ginkakuji with their ponds and strolling walks
giving views of reflected-in-the-water pavilions. Lawns, flower beds, topiaries
with monumentally cut shrubs and trees, and continuous carpets of flowers are
too artificial for Japanese, nor do they go for wide open spaces. Even daimyō
were comfortable with a restricted space, fully used, and perhaps borrowing
views of hills beyond (shakkei) to lend depth. These values permeate screens
and scrolls.

Nō Theater Nō or Noh (the "h" is silent, just lengthening the vowel) is a form of
theater that grew independently in the late fourteenth century from various
dance-drama forms such as sarugaku, kagura, kyōgen, dengaku, and gigaku, due
largely to Kan'ami and his son Zeami. The shōgun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu saw
Kan'ami and Zeami act at the Imagumano Shrine in Kyoto in 1374 and was
excited enough by them to become the first-ever leader to patronize an acting
troupe, the Kanze, which remains the best-known school of Nō theater.
Based on previous temple acting techniques, Kan'ami built up a corpus of
theater from old plays which he made significant and more plausible to
contemporaries by adding new plays based on current events. He is said to have
excelled at realistic portrayal of character, achieving rapport with audiences and
melding song, dance, and mime by building up a subtle, mysterious beauty
(yūgen) and introducing a strong rhythmic accompaniment. His father died in
1384 when Zeami was 21 years old. Taking over leadership of the troupe, he
wrote dozens of plays that reflect the age when Zen was part of the air, so
restraint, brevity, and suggestion rather than statement were valued. From 1400
to 1436, he wrote down the theory of Nō, which still stands.

Fig. 8 Bonsai, Japanese black pine, ca. 200 years old, ht 361 /2 in (93 cm). Photo courtesy
Sotheby's.
Fig. 9 "Interior of Kabuki Theater Playing Chushingura," hanging scroll, att ributed to Tori'i
Kiyotada, ca. 1749, color on paper, 23 x 35 in (58 x 89 cm). Photo courtesy Kobe City Museum.

After his death, Nō was less officially patronized but the dispersal of shelter-
seeking actors to the provinces during the Ōnin War of 1467-77 spread Nō
knowledge round the country. The Tokugawa shōguns made this form of theater
their own and, typically for the nation, laid down conservative rules, slowed its
action down, allowed only actors' children to be trained in it, and tried to prevent
ordinary people from learning the scripts or songs.
Nō is important for collectors, but the masks and costumes are valued and
hard to come by, and selling is resisted.

Kabuki Theater
All kinds of drama were in the air when an Izumo Shrine maiden called Okuni
came to Kyoto early in the seventeenth century and with a number of other
women put on a series of plays with sensuous dances on the bed of the
Kamigamo River. A lovely screen in Kyoto Museum of such a scene shows that
the dance-dramas were very popular. Soon, however, the government felt that
they were more a front for prostitution, and prohibited women from acting.
Young men took over but got up to similar tricks. In 1652, the government
changed the rules so that plays had to be based on the formal acting style of the
traditional farce and only men could act, with their forelocks cut to show they
were of age. Some men started specializing in acting women's parts (on'nagata)
and brought an extraordinary form of acting to prominence. In a way, it is the
essence of theatrical make-believe-willing suspense of disbelief. While knowing
they are men, even women find something attractive about the way they train
their bodies, voices, and gestures to present an image that still has something
feminine about it.
A number of on'nagata appear in woodblock prints (ukiyo-e), though the
majority of prints are of male roles. It is hard to imagine the whole body of
ukiyo-e without the kabuki background so this form of theater is basic to Japan's
art heritage, even if the average reader might now get bored by the stylized plays
themselves, despite the great colorful spectacles (and theatrical tricks), music,
gorgeous clothes, and acting. Needless to say, sumōwrestlers (also common in
ukiyo-e) were all men (Fig. 9).

Artistic Experiments
The main thrust of Japanese painting prior to the mid-eighteenth century had not
been realistic, but Hiraga Gen'nai went to Nagasaki to study Western art from
the Dutch and imparted his knowledge to Shiba Kōkan (1738-1818) who made
many pictures in the Western style (Fig. 10). When young, Maruyama Ōkyo
(1733-95) was exposed to European perspective, but preferred to follow the
traditional Kanō style of art while portraying the townspeople of Kyoto where he
grew up, not the aristocrats whom he despised.
Nagasawa Rosetsu (1754-99), Itō Jakuchu (1716-1800), and Soga Shōhaku
(1730-81) knew the Kanō and Maruyama traditions but tried to develop styles
sometimes dubbed eccentric; some designs appeal to Westerners' desire for
something different.
Another artistic current was the literati or bunjinga school, an awkward word
for those Chinese government officials who had painted in a reduced way for
centuries. In the seventeenth century, some Chinese fled their country after the
fall of the Ming Dynasty, took sanctuary in Nagasaki, and brought techniques
and instruction manuals with them. The Japanese were ready to de-emphasize
training for war, after a century of peace, and were also encouraged by rising
prosperity. The idea that it was desirable to study literature and express yourself
in painting had wide appeal.
The names of famous literati painters over the next century include Sakaki
Hyakusen, Ike Taiga, Yosa Buson (also known in the West as a great haiku
poet), Yamamoto Baitsu, Tani Bunchō, Okada Beisanjin, Uragami Gyokudō,
and Watanabe Kazan. Typically, Westerners find their landscapes and kachō
(flower-and-bird) paintings attractive, if a little dull, though a few portraits have
more bite. Shibata Zeshin and Kawanabe Kyōsai are widely admired.
When Western ideas poured into Meiji Japan (1868-1912), artists were in a
quandary. Should they throw away or keep their tradition of the line being
paramount? Should they try to meld East and West? Thanks to advice from
Ernest Fenollosa, and to Okakura Tenshin's leadership, some old arts and skills
were kept for the future while Western techniques were taught too.
It is likely that Japan produced a number of great artists as a result of this
clash of civilizations. The Rise of Japanese Art lists the following: Yokoyama
Taikan, Shimomura Kanzan, Hishida Shun-sō, Imamura Shikō, Hayami Gyoshū,
Yasuda Yukihiko, Kobayashi Kokei, Maeda Seison, Okumura Togyū, Kuroda
Seiki, Umehara Ryūzaburō, Tomioka Tessai, Higashiyama Kai'i, Takeuchi
Seihō, and a Kyoto lady, Uemura Shōen, who made memorable works within the
Japanese tradition.
In the Meiji era, Kuroda Kiyoteru and Fujishima Takeji were leading
Western-style painters. Some artists have worked almost wholly within the
West, such as Foujita Tsuguharu in France and Okada Kenzō in New York. Tens
of thousands of artists compete for attention and it is hard to see the wood for the
trees and this is only an overview. But taste is personal-if you ask a young
woman, she will probably choose dreamy Takehisa Yumeji (1884-1934).

New Edo Arts

During the 250-year-long Edo peace, many new arts came to the fore. Swords
were still made at this time but had passed their peak as they were no longer
required for the purposes of fighting but more for ceremonial use. However, the
fittings that went with them, such as the hand-guard (tsuba) and the little knife
(kozuka), were raised to a new pinnacle of workmanship (see Swords and
Armor). In the same way, but quite a bit later, new metal ornaments for tables,
niches, and desks (okimono) became popular and artisans showed their skill at
detailed work like reticulation (see Sculpture and Metalwork).
The growth of urban society made many people richer, which led to
conspicuous consumption. Women wanted more and more sumptuous clothes,
boudoir items, and hair ornaments, so kimono and lacquerware flourished to
meet their needs. Men spent time at the theater and pleasure quarters, so wanted
pictures of actors and beautiful women, which led to the growth of ukiyo-e (see
Ukiyo-e and Prints). They also wanted to have a dandy's sense of style (iki), so
vied with each other to have handsome things hanging from the belt (obi). These
useful ornaments (sagemono), which I here call "danglers," held medicine or
seals, tobacco, pipes, writing instruments, etc., and were suspended from the
belt. They were made of gold, silver, lacquer, and ivory (see Sagemono).
Cloisonné was probably invented in ancient Greece but crossed into Asia. It
was known in Japan 1,300 years ago, but was little used. Suddenly, in the 1830s
it burst into bloom and, after complete rein-vigoration with new arts and
materials, for the rest of the century was one of Japan's most sought-after exports
(see Cloisonné).
Japan has been a vibrant, developed economy for many centuries and made
the kind of rich people's toys that only the well-off can afford, so that it
contributed much to mankind's collective search for beauty, inventing new
concepts and even many arts.
Fig. 10 Shiba Kōkan,"European Landscape with Figures," late 18th c., oil on silk, 45 x 22 in (114
x 56 cm). Photo courtesy Kobe City Museum.
COLLECTING FOR FUN AND WITH
WISDOM

Collecting can be a bore or a pleasure, a fleeting crush, or a lifelong passion.

You will not know until you get dusty hands in dirty corners and in Aladdin's
cave see the beauties of the past in spotless surroundings. Both are stops on your
journey! Surprises await you. Shapes that are new to you metamorphose: a
brazier becomes a coffee table, a pillow becomes a book rest, a mat changes into
a rack, a fish becomes a wall vase. Aladdin's lamp works wonders.
How should you start your adventure into Japanese antiques? One of the best
ways is to flip through books on other people's coffee tables or in bookstores, or
nose around flea markets. You can browse in galleries like the Tokyo Furniture
Museum or catch an exhibition. Listen to friends who have been around longer,
especially if they are enthusiastic and have things to show or tell. If you are
brave and can resist temptation, you might scan a large store like the Oriental
Bazaar in Omotesandō, Tokyo, or steer along Shinmonzen and Furumonzen in
Kyoto, if you are in Japan, or go to the Manhattan Antiques Center in New York,
or Bond/Kensington Church Streets in London. The first is reasonably priced
and has a representative selection of new and old things but is unlikely to have
anything unusual. Stores in the others are unlikely to be cheap but may have
wonderful things. There are also important regular markets and auctions in the
US or Europe where things Japanese turn up in fair numbers, and there are some
excellent stores.
Another route is to go to an antiques fair in Japan, New York, or London.
Old-timers may say that there is little of interest to see or buy, but go anyway.
You will encounter shapes, materials, and colors you have never seen before.
Many articles may look shabby but even the less attractive booths will have
something you might like. The owners would not be in business long if they did
not display items which sell. You may not like their merchandise but obviously
somebody else does. It is timely to recall Jack Sprat who ate no fat and his wife
who ate no lean. What turns others off, may turn you on. This is particularly true
with items arousing feelings of enmity like militaria, or prudishness, such as the
erotic pictures called shunga. Women have been taught to avoid such things, so
are defensive when they meet them. Later, they may feel curiosity or find the
exaggerated members exotic, not offensive, and end up giving one to their man
for his birthday.
The museums most famous for Japanese art are in London, Paris, Berlin,
Amsterdam, New York, Washington DC, Boston, Los Angeles, San Francisco,
Chicago, and Toronto, but provincial cities may surprise aficionados with their
offerings too.

Fig. 11 Anon.,"Budding Willow with Herons and Stream in Snow," six-panel screen, gold ground
with scalloped gold clouds, 18th c., 5 ft 6 1/2 in x 12ft 2 in (1.7 x 3.7 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Changing Taste
Taste changes with time. When I was young, everybody looked down on
Victorian furniture because it was "heavy and in bad taste." Nowadays, it is back
in fashion. This pattern recurs, particularly with the styles of periods too recent
for detachment. The artists and works of whole periods may be tarred with the
feathers that should stick only to some artists who did inferior work, or used
poor materials. For a time people laughed at Art Deco, Grandma Moses, and
Lowrie. Now they are worshipped. Meiji art and handicrafts were condemned a
generation ago, but now the good parts grace great exhibitions. Taste is fluid in
food, clothes, and art.
When foreigners first come to live in Japan, they look around with their old
eyes and old ideas, buying things older hands avoid. That is part of the learning
process. If you buy nothing you regret later, you must be very controlled or tight
with money-certainly not adventurous! But it is usually a good idea to wait a
little until, by dint of eating carrots, you can see better in the netherworld.
Taste is determined by time and acclimatization, contact, and knowledge.
What you buy in the first few weeks off the plane and what you collect years
later differ. You are changed by time spent in a new environment and contact
with people and things there. Knowledge of the new way of life you pick up
talking, seeing, and living with things lends a new perspective, a new pair of
eyes. This is the great thing about learning new languages, or adventuresome
journeys: you grow and acquire a new persona. You notice more subtle color
variations, textures, and materials you had missed. You understand why people
prefer the pre-chemical colors of older textiles and porcelain, and accept the
marks of the years on often-washed indigo fabric or child-banged chests. The
patina of age seems worth paying for. The eye seeks something different, no
longer novelty for its own saké. The eye becomes stricter, or "higher," as they
say in Japanese.
To a certain extent, this process is inevitable, but the pace at which it occurs
can be slowed or speeded up. The more you search around and keep a lookout
for the interesting and beautiful, the faster your eye gets attuned to the new
aesthetic, the new hierarchy of values. If you find that nothing much appeals to
you, you are free to keep the old eyes and leave Japan the way you came-though
aesthetically poorer. In Japan, you can get to know a unique sense of beauty. Cut
off from outside influences, the cultural traits already here in the sixteenth
century deepened and within a seamless social fabric developed independently.
Many forms of art reached a perfection and originality unmatched elsewhere.
Welcome to Xanadu and Kublai Khan's easterly stately pleasure dome!
An Occupational Disease
Those who spend decades here as collectors or dealers get jaded and appreciate
less sharply the antiques around them. They may remember the wonderful things
they saw twenty years before and seek the same quality. Though natural, this
path leads to disappointment, like a fisherman recounting the fish that got away.
"Distance lending enchantment," growing discernment, the vanishing into
museums of many of the nicest things (making fewer available for later private
purchase), and occasional theft, breakage, or vandalism are behind this
occupational disease. Old hands see the past in rosy tints as they were younger
then and prices were lower-and fewer collectors had money-just like them!
If they say there is nothing left worth buying-a common complaint about
fairs at Heiwajima or Kyoto, Osaka, New York, or London, there is truth in it-for
those people. But readers of this book should realize that each age finds things to
collect because the spirit of the age evolves, and generations die, leaving estates
formed earlier with other tastes. The adventurous or imaginative will find things
to collect long after some say nothing of interest remains. Morita Akio, former
head of Sony, had the money to collect Impressionists but instead collected old
Victrolas and other phonograph-type things. An investment banker, Richard
Weston, came to Tokyo around 1983. He was taken with inrō and netsuke
(ornaments suspended from the belt) and collected them. He soon assembled a
collection good enough to be honored with an exhibition at Christie's in 1995,
accompanied by an excellent book. If he had been dissuaded by older collectors,
he would never have started on such a venture. We would all be the poorer.
Others have collected inrō and thought there was little out there unrecorded,
but Weston had an imaginative insight: one can assemble the full trio of netsuke,
ojime (bead fastener), and inrō from singletons found separately, provided one is
lucky and matches them with taste. In this way he built a valuable collection.
These separate objects were made by craftsmen skilled in various trades. The
sets were made to go together but the motifs were not necessarily the same. By
doing the process in the reverse order, Weston found natural-looking pairings.
Similarly, Robert Fleischel of Sage-monoya, Tokyo, found danglers hidden for
39 years in an attic.
The Restoration Debate
Most people agree that older objects acquire a certain extra quality through the
years, and that this patina is valuable and should be retained if possible. In Japan
it is called aji. If everything was kept as carefully as the Imperial treasures in the
Shōsōin Imperial Storehouse-taken out only occasionally for airing and
checking, never subject to wear and tear from puppies and drinks, kept safely off
the ground away from humidity, and guarded against theft-then beautiful things
of solid materials should live for centuries. In the real world, though, things do
get battered and lost. Moving house, young children, smokers, carelessness,
earthquakes, and fire are all causes of grief-and damage.

Fig. 12 Netsuke, wood, of Kaibutsu, a mythological semi-human animal depicted in 56 ken Kisho
(1781), unsigned, 5 in (13 cm). Photo courtesy Joe Kurstin.
Fig. 13 Netsuke, ivory, of lkkaku Sen'nin, whose mother was a deer and father a magician,
unsigned, ca. 1700, 3 1/2 in (9 cm). Magical hermits gave up worldly desires to reach a higher
plane, but in carrying Lady Shanta over a river, lkkaku lost his supernatural power. Photo courtesy
Joe Kurstin.

When their condition deteriorates beyond a certain point, barbarians throw

old beauties away without a thought. Those who care about their fate face a
choice: To try to coax more life out of a piece by the equivalent of herbal
medicine, without substantial surface change. If the patient has slipped beyond a
certain point, surgery is pointless. Loving care in a hospice is better than trying
to revive a very senior citizen. Instead of criticizing cuts or scratches, they
should be treated as badges of honor in the struggle for existence.
To operate surgically, believing that it is meaningless to keep alive a
handicapped piece if extensive surgery will make it like new. In doing so, the
oldster may lose the patina of age, but it will regain its youthful looks and be
structurally stable.
One strong believer in this need for resurrection is Kitano Fumio of Shiga.
Aware that Japanese clients rarely purchase a chest if it is battered or dirty, he
often has them stripped down. Broken parts are replaced and the chest is re-
lacquered following the old methods-applying many coats of natural fuki-urushi
lacquer-so the old can be whole and relive under a new skin. The natural
materials bond with the underlying wood, so the lacquer helps to preserve the
antique in its second life. He avoids fancy chemical finishes like polyurethane,
as they do not bond, so one scratch and the whole effect is lost as the wood is not
guarded. He uses waxes, not oils, to bring back the sheen where lacquer would
not suit. He feels his approach is valid.
Conversely, John Adair of Tokyo believes that radical surgery and complete
refinishing are criminal. An antique must be in as original a condition as
possible. To take away the patina, is to take away its very life. He would not buy
any item which had lost too much. Hearing about a wholesale restoration, he
expressed horror but was also grateful, as this should win him new clients who
appreciate the unrestored. He can stress the original condition and authenticity of
his own pieces to win new clients.
Advantages of Working in Japan
Many people are afraid of the word "antique" as it conjures up images of
stupendous auction prices. Many masterpieces are already in museums, but the
collectibles in this book are within reach-if you have money or work in Japan.
Business people here can afford a little more than if they were living in the US
or Europe. To persuade them to come so far, they have to be rewarded by a
higher standard of living. Free housing, a car, and some entertainment and travel
costs are often included in the package.
But this is not all that working in Japan can offer. There is a self-restraint in
the very air. Working Japanese save a substantial part of their salary and this
rubs off on foreign residents. Japanese may live in cramped housing but have
high disposable incomes because they hold down their inescapable expenses,
taxes are not high on average salaries, and the employer pays commuting,
unlike, for example, in Europe where commuting is paid out of post-tax income.
Combined with low-cost lunches (no Martinis), and the private lives that
Japanese lead, this means less stress on consumption. Outside you show or
mention only what you choose.
Fig. 14 Glass picture of a beauty, probably made in Tokyo, 1826-75, 15 x 10 in (38 x 25 cm). Photo
courtesy Kobe City Museum.

People in Japan do have money for nice things if they want to buy them. The
items covered in this book range from museum treasures to ¥100 saucers and we
maintain the convenient fictions that ¥120 = US$1, so ¥1,000 = $8, while $1.80 =
£1. By the time you read this, the world's currency system may have been turned
upside down, but people love a fairy story.
From a historical perspective, the US dollar was worth ¥360 for decades till
the Nixon crisis, was some ¥200 in the early 1980s, fell to ¥80 in 1995, and is
¥110 as I write.
Fig. 15 Bronze, parcel-gilt boy and kitten asleep on drum, signed Miyao, Meiji era. Photo courtesy
Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 16 Five deeply carved short swords (tantō) ivory, depicting battling samurai, creatures,
flowers, birds, and crests. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Pricing Antiques
In the stock market, every stock has a daily quote: you know a particular share's
price and dividend as it is a uniform piece of paper meaning ownership in a
future stream of earnings. Antiques are not like that. There is no market price.
Each differs and the only dividend is pleasure. For example, you see an
attractive Imari bowl, made about 1870 in Arita, Kyūshū, which costs ¥50,000.
You wonder if it is worth that. Your reaction shows how the market works. The
dealer's price may be higher than yesterday because you are wearing expensive
clothes, or lower because she needs cash for a new purchase. The price may be
negotiable or fixed. You may decide it is not worth haggling and give up. Or you
may want to think about it. Encouraged by the praise lavished on it by a
companion shopper, but feeling guilty about spending $400, you give an
ultimatum: ¥45,000 is the maximum you will pay. If the dealer agrees, the two
of you have decided the price. She was willing to sell and you were willing to
buy at that price.
If you show the same bowl to an expert, he or she may say it is worth twice
that or half. If this makes you happy or mad, it does not change the facts. The
dealer was willing to sell and you were willing to buy at that level, so that was
the price. It is important to realize that prices are formed in the eye of the
beholders. They are not sacred scripture. The dealer may have lost money or
gained, you may have spent too much money to survive the weekend, but seeing
that bowl in that setting at that time and in that mood, you bought it at that price-
the only valid definition of its worth. It is entirely possible that it would fetch
half or twice that price somewhere else, but that is irrelevant. You decided it
together.
There is no Dow-Jones index to which you can refer to price a set of five
Kutani plates or a wooden hibachi. You can construct an index only for identical
things. Each ordinary share of GE is as valuable as the others, so a stock quote is
valid. It reflects the price that buyers and sellers think reasonable today, given
the information available. The condition and painting of the Kutani dishes
mentioned here varies; if sold separately, they would have a different value. The
Japanese are used to "sets" of five, so if there were fewer, the value of each
added together would be much less than for a full set. If they came in a valid
period box, the price might double, especially if the date and maker were written
on the box. Similarly, each hibachi varies in size and wood, or at least has
different grain. One may have dark burns in the wood but a lovely patina, while
another is in excellent condition but rather bland. The buyer and seller must
weigh up these factors and decide a suitable price.

Buyer's Checklist
There is no manual (unlike for secondhand cars, stamps, or baseball cards) that
can really give you a reference price (though Miller's Price Guide does try).
The seller has seen many similar hibachi and remembers roughly what they
sold for at auction and in stores. Based on that, the surroundings and season, as
well as his desire for profit or the need to sell quickly, he will quote a price. If he
admires it, the onlooker will start going through a mental checklist: Is it as
beautiful as I should like?
Will the dealer mend that crack, clean the copper, and order glass for the top?
Can I afford it?
What would my husband/wife/family say?
Where could I put it?
Do I need it?
How would it look in the house back home?
Would I!we always appreciate this souvenir from Japan?
Is it fun to look at, talk about, and use?
Will it survive the air-conditioning back home?
If the answer is "yes" or positive often enough, then the potential customer
will also wonder about the dealer. If I discover something terrible, does he seem
trustworthy enough to get the problem fixed? How do I know that the price is
not too steep?
The answers depend on knowing other people to ask and your assessment of
the dealer's location and trustworthiness. If you are with other collectors, you can
find out on the spot if the price is about right and a look round should tell you if
his shop will be here a long time. If it is in a temple/shrine market, he may not be
there again next month. If it is on a downtown street, he will be.
The next step is to discuss the price. Some dealers keep to fixed prices. Some
will drop a little if you express interest, particularly at fairs or shrine sales. A
third group will offer a sky-high price and then generously offer to reduce it
enormously.
Collectors, too, come in different stripes. Those buying top quality pieces are
often sure of their judgment and will accept a reasonable price, thinking of the
next time too. If they drive a hard bargain this time, the dealer will not bother to
look for that special piece. Others, the majority, are small-scale hagglers and feel
better if the dealer takes off a bit. After all, they are not buying necessities. The
third group is the most feared. They haggle ferociously for hours, as if in a souk.
This approach may work, as the dealer finally only wants to get rid of the pesky
customer and have a little peace, but it never works a second time. The dealer
sees him coming and suddenly the price doubles before it is announced.
Price Trends
Antiques made with quality materials and artistry generally appreciate with time.
But this does not mean that you should buy them for investment, without
knowledge. There are too many uncertainties. When you spend a few thousand
dollars, it is comforting to know that you could resell the item for a similar sum.
It was fairly common to assume this was possible in the age of inflation from the
1940s through the 1980s. Indeed, many dealers gave a guarantee that they would
buy back an item after a year or two for the purchase price, minus a commission.
In Japan, this era ended with the vertiginous ascent of the yen and the fall of the
dollar and pound.
In general, young people in Japan feel scant affinity for the old things they
see in their grandparents' houses. They are seen as outdated and linked with
prewar Japan. The young are unlikely to go crazy over Japanese antiques
(anything else is possible, if remotely exotic or cute). At a pinch, they may buy a
few usable dishes or other tableware, if in a group. Middle-aged and over
collectors are quite common and are less prone to fads. They tend to like the
staples of antique shops in Japan: quality porcelain, lacquer, smaller baskets,
little pieces of furniture, tea bowls, and other tea-related paraphernalia like
caddies.
Occasionally, fashions overtake the antique world. A women's magazine
article praising porcelain plates and bowls with taka karakusa or octopus
arabesque designs (as occurred a few years ago) may push a panic button among
financiers, brothel keepers, and society madames: "If I have no Imari with
octopus leg motifs, I am a nothing, so I must have some." The price of that
porcelain soared but has come a cropper since. Otherwise, the price of Japanese
antiques tends to depend on demand from outside, economic cycles, and the
activities of the large auction houses overseas. These, in turn, depend on the
currency. If the dollar falls too much, American and European dealers find it
cheaper to buy from sources within their country until they run out of stock.
Only after those sources dry up do they go back to Japan for another fix.
Meantime, the prices of things appreciated mainly by foreigners, like furniture,
are weak. On the contrary, when Japan is in the dumps, things liked only by
Japanese plummet.
An exception to this was the broad movement to bring Japanese antiques
back to their homeland (satogaeri in Japanese). Museums, collectors, and dealers
bid high prices for treasures like Kakiemon porcelain which had snoozed on
shelves in Europe for centuries. This trend has petered out as many pieces have
returned and the buyers are no longer Bubble-rich. They used to crowd auction
houses like Christi e's and Sotheby's which issue attractive, well-documented
catalogs with price estimates. These offer great information about auction goods
and the prices they can command in the West, but the situation within Japan is
more hidden. There is no large auction house and most auctions are
uncatalogued. Besides, the auctions are open only to those in the trade.
Japanese dealers are keen to promote their own business. They consider the
knowledge they have garnered an important proprietary weapon in their battle to
make a profit, so many are loath to publicize it. They fear that if everybody
knew as much as they do, they could not sell or charge as much. (Some preferred
not to give information for this book.) The quality of information in Japanese is
also suspect, as most writers are also linked to the trade and may have an interest
in the goods they describe. Critics rely more on established tradition and friends'
opinions than on new facts.

Fig. 17 Seated gosho ningyō showing three-part body with over-large head, presentation ribbon
(mizuhiki) painted on forehead, ca. 1800, ht 15 in (38 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.
Fig. 18 Tsutsugaki futon cover, with phoenix design, Kyūshū, ca. 1900, 5 ft 3 in (1.6 m) square.
Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.
Fig. 19 Mori Yoshitoshi (1898-1992), "Tsunemasa's Superhuman Feat," stencil/lithograph, ed. 50,
1972,27 x 20 in (69 x 50 cm). Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.
Investment Versus Fun
Attractive things do tend to rise in price. Netsuke bought in the 1920s for £5
were sold at the 1995 Monzino auction in London for tens of thousands of
pounds (or dollars). This may sound wonderful, but there is no sound reason for
saying that the same will happen in the future with what you buy. Collectors
back then were having fun and buying things they thought had intrinsic beauty
and were worth much more. If you decide to buy things now for those reasons,
you can be sure of enjoying yourself. At the same time, it is likely that your
choice will make financial sense over time as well.
Sometimes cowardice needs to be overcome. Just a year after my wife and I
arrived in Japan, we saw a huge set of attractive Imari porcelain for twenty
people in Kyoto. We drooled over it for a long time and imagined how it would
transform our cramped, under-decorated hutch, but we were cowards. It cost a
month's salary and we said we would think about it and call. We never did, and
we missed the path to adventure. Sets of similar quality and size no longer
appear, let alone for a relative song. My wife may be less partial to porcelain
after the Kobe earthquake, but decades later we bitterly regret Robert Frost's
road not taken, the one less traveled.
A speculative approach is to guesstimate what museums and other major
collectors are buying now and project that into the future. If screens by X sell
well because they have been praised by Y and also appear attractive to your eye,
then they are probably a good bet for the future. But Y may have been their
owner, so be careful! Success all boils down to information, contacts, and taste.
If you can equip yourself with friends or dealers who are knowledgeable, and
pump yourself up with information about your chosen area, it is quite likely that
you will make a killing-but this is no sure thing. Some fashionable British
painters a century ago commanded fees higher then than sale prices now, despite
the dismal things that have happened to the purchasing power of the pound
sterling! If you hear that good quality furniture was cheaper years ago, and
assume that the same will happen in the future, you may be right. Or wrong. I
believe you are more likely to be right. Nevertheless, that is the wrong reason for
starting to buy antiques. If you like old things, are ready to look around and learn
lots about them, have money over and above what you need for day-to-day
living, have enough space and a consenting family, then by all means buy and
have fun.
Creating New Worlds or "Playing House"
Japan is a treasure chest of things new to the average Westerner. Finding out
about them can be the most rewarding part of your time in Japan, a treasure hunt,
a quest for the Holy Grail itself! If you find it a chore, pursue another goal. If
you do decide to take home mementos, you will have fun explaining them to
others at home, just as nineteenth-century travelers took home boatloads of
curios and told their friends unlikely stories about their function and origin. This
aspect of fun is very important.
Michael Dunn, a specialist in fine Japanese art, was once asked to give an
insurance valuation for an American family who had collected a house full of
cheap knickknacks. Claiming that they had no value to him at all, he asked the
parents why they had acquired all that stuff. He was charmed when they
answered "for fun." They had not been thinking in terms of investment, and their
collection remained a highlight of their time in Tokyo. That family never
worried, but many others do. During the Bubble of 1987-90, firms and wealthy
individuals assumed that land, house, and antique prices could only go up, so
bought them at higher and higher prices without thinking about their intrinsic
value.
Many "valuables" bought then are in the hands of accountants, in the office
of the original firm if it is still viable, or at the bank which accepted them as
collateral. Accountants know nothing about art, so their bookkeeping value is
counted as the purchase price plus the compounded interest incurred for their
purchase. The tragedy is they will never sell for that, however long the
accountants live. At some point, the speculator or his financial backer will have
to bite the bullet and sell them for a fraction of the purchase price and forget the
accumulated interest. Speculating on antiques without knowledge or taste is
unwise, though it may work in a new field in which you are one of the few
experts or can rely on one.
Miscellaneous Collecting Areas
It was hard to find the appropriate place within the schema of this book to
describe some popular collecting areas, so they appear here to whet the appetite
for the longer chapters to come.
Fans
Japanese fans (ōgi) need no introduction. Though fixed fans originated early in
China, even most Chinese consider folding fans Japanese in origin, maybe
dating from the tenth century. They have always been admired. With air
conditioning, they are less important in Japan now, but in the theatrical, Tea,
sumō, and dance worlds they remain de rigueur and, like a cigarette or pipe, are
a way of projecting a person's individuality. Fans are one of the commonest
motifs in art, especially on ukiyo-e and screens.
A stylish book, Ōgi: A History of the Japanese Fan by Julia Hutt and Hélène
Alexander, which introduces the Fan Museum of Greenwich, near London, and
is largely based on Alexander's marvelous collection, has made lots of detail
superfluous.
Historically, China first used large, round ceremonial fans on long sticks and
rigid screen fans which were held in the hand. The origin of the folding fan may
have been a spontaneous scrunching up of paper or copying of a bat's wing or
palm leaves. The two main forms are the folding paper fan, with little rods stuck
between two sheets of paper (though some paper fans are unsupported by sticks),
and the brisé fan, with slats of wood held together on the outside by flexible
material like silk ribbon. In both forms, the slats gather in the middle where they
are held by a rivet. The outer leaf may be harder and form a sort of guard to
protect it from being rubbed or catching on something when put in your sleeve.
Paper fans tended to have shorter lives. Sensu or ōgi are folding fans. Hiōgi
are folding fans made of hinoki (Japanese cypress), often for the court. Suehiro
indicates a wide-ended fan, so exclude those cheaper paper fans which open only
some 90 degrees.
Japanese fixed-form fans include roundish uchiwa (general) and gunbai
(military/official fans, for example, for sumō matches, often attached to long
poles or stands). Uchiwa get stuck into the base of the back when not in use for
firefly hunts or summer festivals, perhaps now with plastic spokes and
advertising a local firm or event. They are common gifts in sales promotions.
The quality of a fan depends on the design, the materials from which it is
made, and sometimes the artist who painted it. Gold leaf or nice lacquering with,
for example, hiramakie, add value, as does the use of an ivory guard or spokes,
inlay or decorative carving on wooden slats, tortoise shell for the guards or slats,
and the addition of silken tassels. Many old fans no longer have the spokes as the
design was appreciated as an independent painting. Indeed, many famous Rimpa
painters thought so highly of their work that the fans they painted were never
spoked.
Special fans include sutra fans that are covered with, for example, landscapes
with sutras painted on top. The text of a Nō play may also appear on a fan.
Tessen or gunsen were used by soldiers, mai-ōgi gave dancers more reach and
expressiveness. Another form seems to be from Korea: bamboo is split down to
a suitable node and the tines are split into spokes for paper. Perhaps the strangest
of all are maki-uchiwa which roll up round a central pole (like an umbrella) and
a fan case concealing in its guard a knife!
Hutt and Alexander's book mentions large exports to China and Korea in
medieval times and many mass-produced millions shipped to Europe and
America during the late nineteenth century. Indeed, the care and artistry of fan
making was lost but trade gained huge new markets that would not have
appreciated the best anyway and advertising gained a new medium: even maps
were printed on them in Japan. As I gaze at the 10-slat pāper fan given to JAL
passengers long ago, with a moonscape, I regret that new toys and machines of
little artistic value beat out graceful things.
Postcards
Japanese postcards produced up to 1941-the first one was issued by the Japanese
government in 1873-have a high international reputation for their beauty and
educational value, as Roland Barton, a ship postcard collector in Kobe, says in a
letter to the author: "Art deco/commemorative cards are preferred by many
international postcard dealers due to their vibrant colors, creative designs, raised
embossing, often stamped hanko, and their overall artistic quality and periodic
inclusion of inset photos of scenery, royalty, ships, important buildings, or other
timely events."
No topics were taboo: imperial activities and family, funerals, battles and
prisoners, domestic and international exhibitions, businesses and products,
health and population statistics, Yoshiwara's red lights, nudes and beauties,
various war capabilities, disaster scenes with many dead, and Ainu culture. An
interesting article by Donald Rupnow appeared in Daruma 43.
Most cards sent overseas were hand tinted, so duplicate cards may still have
different hues and even colors for the townscapes, people, and flora, as hundreds
worked in this trade. One fascination is the preservation of history aspect in
recording social, cultural, and political events and the ability to notice changes to
towns and buildings since the cards were made. Some find particular interest in
the cards covering occupied territory in Manchuria, Korea, Taiwan, and
Sakhalin, while others are attracted to the stamps.
Washi
Handmade paper in Japan is called washi and it is a vital part of the culture in
terms of domestic architecture (shoji and fusuma) as well as lanterns. It is the
basis for a lot of the art covered later in this book and it is still used extensively
in houses, but I have decided that this huge field is more usable than collectible,
so have decided to invite readers to learn more about paper by using the little
wallets, stationery, and other souvenirs, visit paper-making villages, see the
work of paper designers Horiki Eriko (1962-) or Kita Toshiyuki (see Daruma
37), or read the big book on the subject by Sukey Hughes, Washi: The World of
Japanese Paper.
Military Items
A large variety of goods glorifying or recording soldiers, battles, and especially
the wars with China (1895) and Russia (1904-5) were turned out by companies
in response to the Japanese government's call for patriotism. Mass-produced
saké pourers and cups with military themes were frequently given to those
signing up for or leaving the armed forces. Many bear the name of a division
(like Maizuru Heavy Artillery) or the number of a unit. Some are vague, merely
showing a military flag or a naval anchor. Saké cups with propellers or anchors
molded into their bases, pictures of Lieut. Fukushima crossing Siberia, and
plates decorated with assorted medals, heavy gun batteries or naval battles can
also be found. Quite expensive (and attractive) dishes were also made (Fig. 23)
showing military scenes. Humorous postcards showing military life are also
favorites. Actual military medals are common.
Folkcraft Items
Many things with an "old Japan" feel about them were made for day-to-day
activities, and can be classified as folkcraft items. Often these could be used in a
number of venues but many are collected here. This is just a short list but there
are thousands more.
In a shop: Abacuses (soroban); beckoning cats (maneki-neko) that try to
invite happiness and customers into a business; cake molds (kashi-gata), which
come in a wonderful variety and are often made of cherry or magnolia wood;
bean-counter's fences (kekkai or chōba kōshi); seal boxes (in-bako); statues of
Daikoku (Daikoku-ten, god of wealth); shop signs (kamban) displaying outside
what kind of goods a store stocks inside, like medicine, pipes, tea, locks, etc.
(see Figs. 329, 330); another pair are interesting too-the dai-shō kamban was a
sign saying the store had sold lots (dai) or little (shō); candled shop signs (rōsoku
kamban), the equivalent of neon-it lit your place up at night, thanks to the light
the candle gave; and food delivery boxes with different level trays (okamochi).
Yagen (Fig. 20) were used to grind medicines for pharmacies, while hakari
weighed things of value, like gold and silver.
In a temple or shrine: Wooden bells (mokugyo) in a kind of shell shape that
were struck with wooden sticks; drums; offertory boxes (saisenbako) and general
cash holders (zeni-bako); guardian dogs (koma-inu); votive offerings; horse
pictures (ema, see Fig. 63); lion-dog head masks (shishi-gashira); images of the
Buddha and other Immortals (butsuzō or zushi), usually enclosed in a small box
with doors that hide the image from view-very desirable to many collectors who
thrill to the romance of the ineffable and fine carving, molding, and age; Inari
fox statues; clappers to start theatrical performances (or indicate your time was
up with a hired lady), which have a metallic sound but are of wood (hyōshi-gi);
conch shell horns (horagai) for communicating at long distance and from island
to island, or proving you are a good mountain priest.
Tools: Builders' line markers (sumitsubo, Fig. 21), carved by users who had
to show their prowess; spinning wheels (itokuriguruma) and carders (ito-maki);
printing blocks or woodcuts (han'-gi); hoes (kuwa); mallets (kizuchi) and other
hammers; charcoal scuttles for the hearth or tea ceremony (sumi-bako); cutting
tools like saws, planes, and chisels; barbers' chests; peddlers' chests; yam graters
(suri-kogi); sculpted lids for vats or jars (futa); pails (oke); rice or saké measures
(masu); well pulleys (ido-guruma); well buckets (tsurube); hatchet covers (nata-
zaya); hae-toriki or mechanical fly-catchers with a Buddhist element (Fig. 22).
 In a house: Hearth hangers (jizai kagi or adjustable height kettle or pot
holders, often fitted with fish); candle stands (shokudai or rōsoku-dai/tate, bare
or lacquered wood, but often metal and precision-made to be disassembled for
transport); pouring bowls (kuchi-tsuki hachi); wooden bowls (ki-zara); savings
boxes (chokin-bako), often hung from a wall; writing boxes (suzuri-bako);
sewing boxes (hari-bako); trays (bon, zen); pulleys (kassha); wooden locks or
crosspieces (yoko-gi); hobbyhorses (mokuba); doll figures of animals or
humans; mortars (usu) and pestles for pounding mochi rice; pillows (makura),
both wooden and ceramic (Fig. 24); hot water bottles (yutampo); large saké
barrels (Fig. 25); steps to reach high shelves (fumi-dai); celebratory saké barrels
(tsunodaru), and lacquer, bamboo, and pottery decorations (okimono).
Advice on Collecting
Collecting is a natural urge. Many animals do it. Dogs take weird things back to
their kennel and bury bones in the garden. Squirrels collect nuts. These activities
can be seen as rational: storing nonperishable food for leaner times. Antiques
can fit into this pattern, too, if valuable, but you also buy things that you do not
need to satisfy a craving. You may want to decorate a room to reflect your
personality and priorities. Those personal traits influence your choice. You have
to look around and see what antiques please you in other people's homes. Do you
like a room warm with Victorian clutter? Do you like modern furniture and
austerity? If you like bric-a-brac and a house with a strong sense of being lived
in, you can safely buy lots. If you prefer to have few things to dust, then you
should pick a few high-quality items which harmonize with your rooms.

Fig. 20 Medicine grinder (yagen), cast metal and wooden handles, 1900-20. Author's Collection.
Fig. 21 Line marker (sumitsubo), great patina, ca. 1850,3 x 7 x 4 in (8 x 18 x 10 cm) Author's
Collection.

Fig. 22 Fly-catcher (hae-toriki) patented as Haetoriku, made by Owari Tokei (Clock) Ltd, ca. 1930.
Private Collection.
Fig. 23 Small porcelain plates decorated with military themes. Top left: War with Russia (1904-5).
Top right: War with China (1894-5). Below: The Satsuma Rebellion (1877). Author's Collection.
Intrinsic Value
Before lashing out thousands on a purchase, you should bear in mind the truth
that it should continue to have value in the future. You are advised not to spend
lots on a collection of posters, for example, which can be reprinted in the future
and have no value in themselves. This concept of intrinsic value is hard to pin
down. The utility of furniture guarantees that people will buy it in future, though
a particular piece may become more or less fashionable. The solid wood of older
Japanese chests, the skills that have gone into their manufacture, and their patina
suggest intrinsic value.
Another sign may be long-term interest by collectors. For centuries people
have admired Hirado, Nabeshima, Kakiemon, and fine Imari. It fills museums,
many scholarly works are written about it, and it is hard to copy satisfactorily
today (though people in Southeast Asia are trying extra hard) because of the
hand painting, and for technical reasons. Swords have long been treasured and
studied, and extremely arduous training is needed to become a proficient smith.
A guild also limits the number of swords he may make. The incredible skills and
time needed to make lacquer netsuke and inrō ensure they will not be easily
copied. Many in the West come with a pedigree showing from which collections
they come, providing security and higher value.
Another area with intrinsic value must be works of art such as signed screens
and scrolls, cloisonné, and metalwork. Those artists had a long apprenticeship
and aesthetic training. Naturally, their works are dearer, especially with the cost
of mounting scrolls or screens, or firing. A danger is that some were signed later.
This should remind you to check if an object is aesthetically pleasing. If it is not,
then no signature, however famous, should beguile you into buying. If things do
not logically fit together, that is also a warning signal. A recent auction I
attended offered suits of armor. Close inspection revealed, however, that the shin
covers and breastplate did not match, nor did the helmet! Naturally, the final
price was lower than the seller had hoped for.
Condition
The condition of an object is vital if important money is to change hands.
Chipped or cracked porcelain should be avoided unless the piece completes a set
or fattens a collection. Prints which have been cut down, torn, or heavily restored
should hoist a signal. No self-respecting Japanese will buy them. Most were
adamant about this long before quality control became a business buzzword.
Westerners are more forgiving of faults, so be aware that you need strong
reasons to overcome this basic advice, especially if you may want to sell it again
or your spouse decides to split.
Before buying an item, run your fingers over it, look carefully at the back,
check for faint cracks or other flaws. It is acceptable to use a magnifying glass to
look closely. It is all right, I believe, to buy flawed things which you like enough
if you know they are flawed. Most older furniture has scratches or bumps, for
example, but to me that is acceptable. In my half century or so, I have collected
the odd flaw and a suspicious bulge around my middle, yet I retain the hope that
people will still like me, perhaps for reasons connected with living, like laughter,
knowledge, or experience!
Sometimes damage increases value. Helmets or armor with evidence of
being shot at may raise the value. I have seen auctioneers count the dents in a
helmet, say there were five, and suggest the price should therefore be $200
higher!
Fig. 24 Left to right: Flat brown porcelain hot water bottle (yutampo), ripple effect, 1930s?; bomb-
shaped white porcelain hot water bottle, 1920s?; porcelain folding summer pillow (makura) (sweat
falls into gaps), patent and auspicious marks, 1930s? Author's Collection.
Trustworthy Confidant
If serious about collecting, find a good advisor. Most great collections resulted
from teaming up with specialist scholars/dealers. In Tokyo, New York, London,
etc., serious dealers speak your language and can help you learn, though they
specialize elsewhere. But do not presume on their time. They need to make a
living. They will try much harder if you find something in their store which you
like enough to buy!
In many fields, the major players are Japanese, so language may be a
problem. If a friend could interpret for you, consider asking his or her help: they
may be charmed you are trying to learn about their culture. Dealers are used to
non-Japanese speakers and communicate with odd words, body language and
signs, drawing or writing-enough for simple requests, but not scholarship. Learn
technical words.
If adventurous and you find an under-grazed field of antiques (porcelain
toilets, cake molds, or carpentry tools?), get to know each tussock and molehill,
then ask dealers who might know more about "your" collectible: the original
makers or those in the trade today. Their guild may have files on old products or
steer you to other resources.
Caring for Antiques
After experiencing the Kobe earthquake, I urge people in Japan and California to
keep breakables in wooden boxes when not displayed: lower is better than
higher. Cabinets firmly attached to walls with sliding doors are fine. (Our
magnetized doors opened but sliding doors did not.) Rich Japanese kept their
valuables in protective boxes for decades in storehouses (kura). Separate from
the house and with thick earthen walls to protect against fire, they were opened
at New Year to display special dishes or scrolls and then sealed for another
twelve months.

Precautions in Collecting Space, time, and pocket affect collecting. Furniture

requires space so remember "less is more." There is an optimum size to fit the
wall or corner of a room and not fill a house-unless you are me! Collecting takes
time, energy, and luck. If we are not there by a certain time, the dealer may be
closed. We may be just too tired to walk the extra mile, and anyway the dealer
may have just sold what we badly wanted.
A common problem with serious collecting is money. If single, arguing with
yourself is easy. In families, money squabbles can be wearing, so avoid
disagreement. If both partners like collecting, it is fine. If not, it is safer to limit
spending. If you like similar things, a marriage can be strengthened, but you
must talk about what you are doing, and keep on the same wavelength. A
successful chase brings couples closer. With cheap items, the next pay check
solves all. Other areas need deeper pockets.
A Kobe man collected screens of the Iberians in Japan in 1550-1600. These
rare things were always dear but he was determined to build his collection which
became Kobe City Museum's centerpiece. He spent all his and his friends'
money to build the collection. His poor wife had no money for everyday
necessities, the house was sold, and the family evicted. It was the best screen
collection ever accumulated but at tremendous human cost.
Reasons for Collecting
Collections may be made for ideological reasons and provide a cultural focus, as
with a Kyoto collection of Korean art. The curator saw how little the locals
respect the Koreans living in Japan, which in turn gives Koreans a poor self-
opinion. He built attractive premises and stocked it with art showcasing Korean
civilization. A Korean nationalist persuaded an old Kobe-ite who owned
superlative Korean pieces to return them to his country, by appealing to the old
man's sympathy.
There is a strong connection between national ego and its public collections.
To mark the fiftieth anniversary of the Japanese ouster, South Korea's President,
at a cost of $100 million, ordered the National Museum destroyed: the Japanese
had built it with window shapes strongly suggesting the name "Nihon." It had
reminded Koreans too long of the hated 35-year-long Japanese colonization.
In the same vein, Japan has many national museums and theaters to store its
soul and also an elaborate system of national or cultural treasures and important
cultural assets. Since 1950, the Cultural Affairs Agency has designated artists
and artisans "intangible cultural assets" and "living treasures" for artistic
excellence or for carrying on an ancient handicraft.
The need to recall an extinct form of culture may also motivate collecting.
Many Kobe people have a few Sanda-yaki pieces. This Hyogo kiln died a
century ago but many Japanese have a fondness for local products so treasure its
brown and cream-colored pots (though they are flawed).
Mr Koike of Sasebo, Nagasaki Prefecture, a great admirer of Hirado
porcelain, gathered 1,500 very fine pieces. Made at nearby Mikawachi, this
porcelain had uniquely varied shapes and sculptural features. However, no
famous museum has an outstanding Hirado collection, so it is under-known. Mr
Koike planned to set up a museum with Sasebo City but sold part of his
collection to Mikawachi which hosted the 1996 Honō-Haku international pottery
festival and wanted a focus during the fair. Tourism is a common reason for new
museums!
Endowing a museum takes a king's ransom. Owners often sell their
collection cheaply to an existing museum or donate it as a named collection. You
might think museums would jump at a donation and they may, if it includes
things they wanted anyway. In fact, donations are often refused, as the items
may be outside the museum's scope, or the museum may not have the space or
budget. This seems Irish, but if a museum operates at a loss already and would
have to devote resources to accept the new acquisition, like space and staff, then
it makes sense to refuse.
Pleasures of Collecting
Gardening provides mental stimulation and a link with our farming past.
Sowing, hoeing, weeding, and watching seedlings grow enchant-like children or
pets. Weather and bugs cause setbacks, while forgetting to water or a week away
may kill treasured plants. Collecting has similar rewards but no worrying
diseases, while travel may widen a collection, unlike neglecting a garden.
Instead of careful attention to the weather, fertilizer, or fumigant, collectors
should be dogs-sniff along roads for the scent of your quarry, and chew at books
on your chosen field! Buy a few decorative things or others for kitchen use to
see what appeals. Only if you are intrigued, should you start on the full
adventure!
The pleasures of collecting are bound up with creation, like a gardener.
Normally, we non-artists rarely feel the thrill of creation. But putting different
works side by side creates links between them not seen before. Perhaps one
attractive doll and then another share some characteristic you saw elsewhere.
When you put all three together, you may see another link-you are creating a
new order. You may also create new knowledge. If some special dolls usually
bear no mark, but while rummaging through a store, you find one in an original
box which has kanji on it, which the curio seller identifies as being, for example,
"Tanaka of Osaka," you may have stumbled on knowledge which is important
for telling a future collector and scholar about the creators of these dolls. Do not
throw the box away: you are a scholar now!
Decorating your house creatively appeals-a new corner, wall display, or
piece of furniture. We enjoy visitors looking at our buys-a talking point, a point
of departure for a dinner party. As in walking a dog, you soon find antique-
friends. Decorating creates a world, even if just a bedroom corner. If you keep a
few dolls or saké cups from each city you visit by the dressing table, that spot
serves as a log of your time in Japan, especially if you record the date and who
you were with.
Some people get a thrill from showing how many examples of an item they
find. If a friend has more, then still feel proud and perhaps find more, but only if
you can use more, or want a full collection. Remember Buckminster Fuller's
dictum that all things have an optimal length or breadth: "more may be less."
Perhaps it is preferable to cull and buy better pieces to outdo your friend.
The spirit of the hunt can entice. There is nothing more satisfying than
sorting through piles in secondhand stores for the print you wanted! As hunter,
you survey your collection and your prey's terrain, adding un je ne sais quoi to
your life. Perhaps you are in marketing and need to hit sales targets. But at the
office you rely on a whole team, while the product itself may have little appeal
for you personally. It can be hard to love toothpaste or floppy disks!

An Antidote to the Rat Race

If interested, you buy without sales literature or ads in the antique world-and no
spiel. A shrine seller may pipe an advanced message: "Gaijin-san. Good plates,
very cheap!" That smiling call is better than TV ads or a PR talk. If you go back,
(s)he and the others will remember you-unlike your TV. As individualists,
dealers are not prepackaged but quirky. They do not commute daily in suits like
robots but are often kind. When phones finally started working after the 1995
quake, I got calls from dealers everywhere. Many in far-off Kantō or Kyūshū
only knew me as a man coming once a year or so to look, yet they tried for
weeks to get in touch with me, out of sympathy. I felt blessed.
A teacher for decades, I love explaining. Bringing varied things together,
imposing some order, and explaining them is more satisfying than socially
rewarding activities like balancing the books or preparing for class. In some
deeper sense, it is more "me."
Some collectors love pictures by famous painters or works once owned by
stars, reveling in the prestige-certainly one attraction. Individualists prefer things
which are unknown, but might become popular-palpable adventure! Finally, it is
fun to have round you things of value at least in the longer term, not in a deposit
box. Scrooge missed something: counting gold coins is for mugs. Having
attractive, things round you is more fun, more natural than living among
landlord-or firm -chosen goods. Even a bird chooses the materials she builds her
nest with-"That feather looks nice and I think I'll try some of this down and that
moss looks nice." Why not take flight like her?
Fig. 25 Porcelain saké barrel (sakagura) with Shōchikubai trade mark (above is Seishu no seiga-
"hero among refined saké ") and bung hole at bottom, 1920s? Author's Collection.
SCREENS AND SCROLLS

For centuries Japanese screens, along with swords and lacquer, have
been considered to excel those of any other nation. The Chinese
invented screens, but by the sixteenth century the Japanese had
surpassed their teachers and brought screens to a stage where the
artistic aspects and technical mastery (the way the various panels were
joined flexibly but lightly with paper hinges, and panel surrounds
were abandoned to provide an unbroken painting surface) made them
the gift of choice for highly ranked beneficiaries. Many were sent to
Spain, Mexico, and Rome with delegations to please the powers that
were back then. The Chinese also imported them. By their very
presence, screens tend to overawe. Unlike many Japanese arts, they
are painted on a formidable scale. A standard pair of six-panel screens
measures 24 feet (7.3 meters) wide and provides a huge, continuous
surface on which to paint heroic-sized pictures which can vie with the
proportions loved by Louis XIV at Versailles. Screens, fusuma
(sliding doors), hanging scrolls (kakejiku or kakemono), fans, and
hand-rolled scrolls (e-makimono) have been the main vehicles for
Japan's fine art for centuries. To a certain extent, the format is
interchangeable. Screens or fusuma may be cut down and made into
hanging scrolls if there is a change of mind or architecture, or a part
gets damaged. Hand scrolls can be turned into individual prints, while
fans are often pasted on screens. Josetsu's early masterpiece,
"Catching a Catfish with a Gourd;' was originally a partitioning screen
but is now a hanging scroll.
Fig. 26 Machi-Kanō School, "Tales of lse," six-panel screen, sumi (Indian ink) and color on paper,
17th c., 2 ft 6 in x 8 ft 6 in (76 cm x 2.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Early History of Screens

The Chinese first made screens in the third century BC. Screens came to Japan in
the seventh century (the earliest reference is AD 686 in Nihon Shoki). By 756,
Tōdaiji Temple in Nara stocked a hundred, on both secular and religious themes.
 In the Heian era (794-1185), a distinction began to be made between
Yamato-e (non-religious pictures with Japanese themes and style, such as
cherries, maples, birds, and seasonal changes), and Kara-e (those inspired by
China). Japanese have tended to prefer practical objects even in art. Screens and
paintings on doors served the purpose of separating space-dividing a room,
keeping out drafts, forming a backdrop to a religious ceremony, or partitioning
off a storage space. There was little room for "art for art's saké." Art had to
work!
Screens and poets were closely connected at the Heian court. Poems were
composed specifically for screens and scrolls, often depicting verdant hills in the
changing seasons, or genre scenes. Most Yamato-e paintings were made for the
court, while religious institutions kept commissioning pictures of saints and
more especially mandalas, which explain Buddhist theories in graphic ways.
Although few paintings prior to the twelfth century remain, the religious hold
Buddhism exerted for centuries weakened from then on, though tea ceremony
addicts and followers of Zen Buddhism, with its call for precepts and pithy
epithets, widened the scope of screens and scrolls, adding dogma and priestly
portraits.

Structural Improvements to Screens

Murase Miyeko states in Masterpieces of Japanese Screen Painting: The
American Collection that in eighth-century screens "each of the six panels was
originally surrounded by a silk border of brilliant red, and the panels were tied to
one another at the top and bottom with colored leather thongs or silken cords.
Each panel was regarded as a separate, independent pictorial unit, as well as a
component of a single decorative piece.... This ancient method of joining screen
panels was gradually modified. In the early thirteenth century, panels were
arranged so that the brocaded border surrounded every two panels, rather than
each individual one.
"The final solution to the problem of this still unsatisfactory format appears
to have been achieved in the early fourteenth century, producing the format
which is still in use today. The leather or silk cords that had once linked the
byōbu (i.e. screen) panels were abandoned. In their place, strips of paper were
pasted, horizontally, from the front of one panel to the back of the next, forming
hinges. The strips alternated with other strips of paper affixed to the panels in the
reverse direction."
To explain a little more clearly, these paper hinges provide contact and
stability, much like tendons in the human body. When you stretch your leg, its
shape changes as the tendons are pulled straight by the muscles or compressed
by others. You can see the slight ripple of the paper hinge on a screen through
the covering material. The alternating direction of the hinges provides stability;
if one strip of paper gets weaker, the next one above and below should still hold
and give the strength and flexibility needed. The strips of paper are covered with
gold or white paper where visible and the same material as the back, where
invisible. The new brocade frame is visible at the top and bottom of each panel,
and at the far left and far right sides of the screen. As Murase says, "this
technical innovation at last made it possible to display a continuous and unified
composition in a screen painting."

Fig. 27 Kyōno, "Archery Lesson" (mother teaching son), two-panel screen, sumi and color on
paper, c. 1920,5 ft 7 in x 6ft (1.7 x 1.8 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Now artists could execute sweeping, uninterrupted images on the surface of

both screens, achieving an unprecedented aesthetic level of room decoration.
Some later artists designed dramatic, even epic subjects like towering tree trunks
rising out of sight or the whole panoply of the seasons. Others concentrated on
smaller-scale subjects like autumn grasses, ducks or kimono on racks.
According to Liza Hyde, "though screens originated in China, they reached
their apex in Japan, perhaps because the Japanese had fewer interior walls (and
mobile ones appealed to them); the Chinese liked monumental walls hung with
scrolls and large, lacquered wooden screens better. In English they were known
as Coromandel (as they were brought out through the Straits of Coromandel).
Paper hinges would not suit these heavy pieces. Korean screens later took after
the Japanese and used paper hinges."

Fig. 28 Anon.,"Cranes" (det ail). six-panel screen, sumi and color on paper with gold clouds, 18th
c., 5 ft 6 1/2 in x 12ft (1.7 x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 29 Kō Hōgen, 15th descendant of Kanō Motonobu, "Shishi" (lions) six-panel screen, 19th c.
(Edo). 6ft x 12ft 3 in (1.8 x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Gold Screens
Gilded screen painting appeared in the fourteenth century. The entire surface
was covered with paper-thin sheets of gold leaf. These found good markets in
neighboring countries. Hyde adds: "There was a sharp increase in the domestic
demand for gold screens in the mid-fifteenth century. They were used at funeral
rites in Buddhist temples, and in the homes of cultivated men as convenient
backdrops against which hanging scrolls of painting and calligraphy could be
displayed."
Initially, the gilded panels remained undecorated, but soon they came to be
painted in ink or lavish colors. Gold flakes of varying hues were sprinkled onto
gilded surfaces, and gold was used along with ink and colors. The total effect
was dazzling. The Momoyama screens made at the end of the sixteenth century
and early in the seventeenth were the most famous. Daimyō developed a mania
for building castles with extravagant interiors featuring gold screens. These
screens reflected light in dark rooms, making the rooms look warmer and also
more magnificent. Masters painted bold, impressive images against shimmering
gold or silver grounds. In these surroundings, monochrome ink screens created a
special ambience. Hazy mist and water landscapes form a metaphysical world of
concentration, meditation and poetry.
Fig. 30 Anon., "Pines, Water and Wisteria," six-panel screen, sumi and color on heavily
embossed gold, late 17th c., 5 ft 8 in x 12ft 2 in (1.7 x 3.7 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Fig. 31 Anon., "Hawks," one of a pair of six-panel screens, ink and color, late 16-17th c., each 5 ft
6 in x 12ft 2 in (1.7 x 3.7 m) purchased in Japan in 1933 from Fujita by Paul Theodore Frankl and
from his estate. Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 32 Anon., "Morning Glories, Vines and Grasses," six-panel screen, mineral colors on gold
leaf, early 18th c., 5 ft 8 1/2 in x 12ft (1.7 m x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Fig. 33a, b Seikō, "Corn Festival" (details), pair of two-panel screens, ink and color, 20th c., each
5 ft 5 1/2 in x 6ft 2 in (1.7 m x 1.9 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Common Screen Subjects

Landscapes (sansui) are the best known subjects in scrolls. You may be
surprised to learn that Japan's scenery really can look like the traditional mist-
shrouded hills with prominent pines portrayed in screens, especially after rain in
June. The great Sesshū Tōyō (1420-1506) may have been inspired by Chinese
predecessors, but such scenes also exist here (see Fig. 5).
 Rakuchū rakugai. This is a variant of the above but shows genre scenes set in
Kyoto or neighboring places. Clouds often divide the different scenes and
localities-a little mystifying until you understand the convention.
Four seasons (shiki). The seasons typical of Kyoto were taken as true of all
Japan and portrayed in pairs or fours: spring/summer on one and autumn/winter
on the other.
Flower and bird (kachō) combinations. These are also extremely popular as
the images are pretty and contain no harshness. Traditional groupings are the
pine, bamboo, and flowering plum (shōchikubai), sparrows in a bamboo grove,
or Mt Fuji, a hawk, and eggplant (the three best dreams of the New Year).
Cranes and turtles imply long life. Birds of prey suggest aggressiveness.
Graceful flowers like peonies have felicitous associations with feminine beauty
and aristocracy. Standing pines and clinging wisteria metaphorically suggest
men and women together.
Tagasode. Literally "whose clothes;' these depict kimono on an ikō or
kimono rack, with other familiar clothes or objects, such as cages, parrots, or
braziers perfuming sleeves (Fig. 49a, b).
Mythical or traditional themes. The Seven Lucky Gods, heroes such as
Benkei and Yoshitsune fighting on Kyoto's Gojō Bridge, or the battle between
two famous women's carts (reflecting deep jealousy and disappointed love), are
areas where a knowledge of Japanese history, myth, and religion makes a big
difference to one's appreciation of a screen.
Religious motifs. Common are pictures of temples, statues of Kan'non, and
raigō or pictures welcoming believers into the Western Paradise (these relieved
the suffering of those about to die, as they were reassured that a place in heaven
awaited them).
Zen images. These usually depict hairy or weird figures of great élan and
expressiveness, such as Daruma, the inseparable smiling pair of Kanzan and
Jittoku, or ascetics. Some have a cartoon-like quality or represent kabuki figures.
I suspect these images face instantaneous love or loathing, unlike other forms.
Military scenes. Many were made to urge boys to grow up into brave soldiers
and were exhibited on the former Boys' Day (May 5th). At the time of the Sino-
Japanese (1894-5) and Russo-Japanese Wars (1904-5), and during the military
period before and during World War II, there was a resurgence of patriotism
expressed in many ways.
Domestic scenes. Views of people at a tea house, scholars in a garden, or
Chinese boys (karako) with funny shaved heads, perhaps chasing butterflies,
are common.
Portraits. These are rare compared to the West, though those of priests are
commoner. Often posthumous, they remind followers of his teachings. The
tradition requires typical and idealistic images, not realistic portraits (see Fig. 7).

Fig. 34 Kanō Tangen, "Flower Cart with Large Wheels," six-panel screen, colors on paper, mid-
late 19th c., 5 ft 8 in x 12 ft (1.7 x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Fig. 35 Kanō Tanshin, "Double Flower Carts," with baskets and various flowers, six-panel screen,
gold background, ca. 1800,5 ft 8 in x 12ft 5 in (1.7 x 3.8 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 36 Oka Shumboku (1680-1763), "Flower Cart with Children," left-hand of pair of six-panel
screens, early 18th c., each 5 ft 9 in x 12ft (1.7 m x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Screens with Calligraphy

Works with nothing but writing are perhaps the hardest to get to like, but are also
very exotic as they are entirely outside Westerners' cultural realm. They are
abundant and cheaper than other subjects (many are still made for monks and the
lay equivalent-corporate warriors). If you buy one, you really should know
roughly what it says, otherwise people will dismiss you as an airhead (like
Japanese girls who wear T-shirts inscribed with incomprehensible English,
French, or Italian phrases-which they never query but are considered "cute" or,
worse, "fashionable").
There are three main hands or scripts: sōsho or "running hand" is the most
attractive to me, with its graceful curves and pace (but is barely legible to
modern Japanese unless trained as calligraphers). The kaisho style has very
square letters and is thus easier to read, but it is angular and ungraceful, while
gyōsho lies halfway between. The poems chosen may have no special meaning
for you but some knowledge is vital for appreciation, even if this is hard to come
by. Calligraphy teachers and scholars are scarce.
However, calligraphy is a widely practiced art. Innumerable exhibitions are
held annually with different groups favoring one syllabary, such as hiragana, a
seasonal theme, or literary topic. From an early age, teachers or parents urge
schoolchildren to make their kakizome or first calligraphy of the year in early
January. Since all kanji are expected to fit into the same space, however few or
many strokes they have, this provides a lifelong introduction to space, balance,
and perspective. I believe learning kanji contributes to the lasting interest in
cartoons and animation and widespread visual skill. Little four-or five-character
Zen statements are most suitable as starters. Shortly after I came to Japan, a
friend gave me a scroll done by her mother. It says shikai shunpū, "four seas; a
spring wind." Four seas implies all the seas and so the whole world, while a
spring wind suggests the benefits of peace and prosperity. This charming scroll
endeared her and the country to me. Mieko is still a good friend, so her spring
wind has worked wonders.
Visitors to meeting or reception rooms at Japanese companies, or Tea
people, will have the opportunity to see many screens and scrolls, some
exhorting greater effort and others extolling the Way.

Screen Sizes

Folding screens (byōbu) are large, flexible decorative items which were often
the central point of aesthetic attraction in a palace, temple, or home. They helped
illuminate a room by reflecting light, and served to divide space. For example,
the women's quarters could be separated from the men's, the owner's from the
servants'. They were also carried by servants to form a windbreak at picnics.
When we read about the history of sixteenth-and seventeenth-century Japan,
we are struck by how much attention was paid by the rulers and sub-rulers to
having the best painters do the most magnificent screen paintings, thus creating
the aura that still surrounds screens. The defenses and imposing lines of their
castles were important, but the aesthetic content mattered just as much in
winning plaudits from society. This has left an incredible legacy of beautiful
pieces by artists in the Kanō line (painters to the court for generations), Tosa
studio painters, and many others who did not necessarily sign their work,
especially if it was for a grandee, but had learned in the same ateliers.
Fig. 37 Anon.,"Winter Scenes with Birds," left hand of pair of six-panel screens, colors on paper,
18th c., each 5 ft 8 in x 12ft (1.7m x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Fig. 38 Anon.,"Birds," six-panel screen, mineral colors on paper, 18th c., 20 in x 126 in (50 x 320
cm). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Artists in China, Korea, and Japan normally produced pairs of six-fold

screens. In Japan, these were roughly the height of a man, but some were only 12
inches (30 cm) high and might have only two panels if made to decorate a small
space or to hide something. Tea people often used smaller screens in the reduced
confines of tea houses and more especially near the corner where tea was made.
A wooden frame (often lacquered) was covered with layers of paper and the
folds joined together. The painting was done on silk applied to this base. Thin
squares of gold and silver foil were often applied round the design to make it
look more sumptuous.
This book is aimed at those with the interest and financial capacity to
occasionally splurge on nice pieces. Readers should realize that screens worth
having for a special place in their home are not likely to be low-priced.
A panel nearly 6 feet (1.8 meters) high and 18 inches (46 cm) wide is already
large so that when you think that an artist had twelve panels to fill, painting a
pair of screens was clearly a major undertaking and an opportunity to make a
statement. Historical masterpieces may be beyond the means of the average
collector (many are already in museums), but you can see still wonderful
examples at high-class dealers-and then you start saving! The great artists in the
genre are mentioned in the chapter on Japan's Art Heritage while the
photographs here show some of the wide variety of wonderful pieces still
available.
Not all screens are old (some are still made today) and the price differs
greatly between works by famous artists (many thousands of dollars) and
workshops where very ordinary commercial painting is done (a few zeros); those
works are not great art. Indeed, some screens use printed designs, rather like
printed wallpaper. These should be cheap, as Japanese prefer not to buy them.
The condition of a screen matters a great deal. If the painting itself is
undamaged, then other problems such as holes in the backing paper or a frame
that needs repairing or refinishing can be fixed fairly easily in Japan and art
centers in London, New York, and Los Angeles, though it does have a cost.
I should advise you never to buy a screen with serious damage to the front
(the back matters less since it is usually unseen) as the repair bill will be
unjustifiably high, unless the artist is well known or the screen has great artistic
or historical value. However, if the individual panels of a screen appeal, then the
sky is the limit.
Most Westerners prefer single screens, fortunately, as they are likely to cost
less! The purist prefers pairs, especially if they come with a box, as it means
they are easier to store, transport, and authenticate. They also appeal for their
sense of completeness.
Common is a kind of patchwork screen with attached old scrolls or fans.
They can be very attractive. A Swiss neighbor once bought such a screen and a
small part was signed Kanō Tanyū, the famous artist (1602-74). Before it was
exported, customs officials became agitated about losing a national treasure until
an expert assured them it was a fake and the fan dated from the nineteenth
century! It was nevertheless very decorative.
Westerners often raise screens, especially smaller ones, by mounting them on
legs or placing them flat against the wall on mounts. This allows the screens to
be decorations, not furniture, and hence they take up no floor space. They may
fit in better with the interior too and experience less wear and tear at the bottom,
from being moved around or tripped on.
Fusuma are sliding doors to a Westerner. In this sense, they are not fixed and
can be taken out and moved elsewhere at any time. Paintings on them may get
rubbed by other doors sliding against them and so their condition can deteriorate
badly. They are scarcely painted today, except to replace old doors on temples or
shrines. Nice images on silk or paper are often transferred to other media. They
are solid, heavy doors and I doubt if they are collectible.

Fig. 39 Anon.,"Two Bears amongst Pine Trees and Water," six-panel screen, late 19th c.,5 ft 7 1/2
in x 12ft 2 in (1.7 x 3.7 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 40 Kane School, "Flower Carts," left-hand of pair of six-panel screens, unsigned, ink, color,
gofun, and gold, 17th c., each 5 ft 6 in x 12 ft 4 1/2 in (1.7 x 3.8 m), purchased by French diplomat
in Japan in 1949. Screens depict gosho gurumo (courtiers' carriages) laden with seasonal flowers
(right: bush clover, hydrangea, dianthus, gentian, freesia, peony, chrysanthemum, morning glory;
left: striped bamboo with blue blooms, camellia, chrysanthemum, hibiscus, wisteria, iris, peony,
pinks) in porcelain, pottery, bamboo, wicker, and wood vessels. Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig.41 Anon.,"Emperor Xuan-Zong of T'ang Dynasty" (with favorite consort Yang Gui-fei and
ladies-in-waiting divided into two camps, fighting with flowers), six-panel screen, ink and color on
paper, 18th c., 6ft x 12ft (1.8 x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 42 Anon., "Chrysanthemums," two-panel screen, gold leaf, raised flowers, early 17th c., 6 ft x
5 ft 7 in (1.8 x 1.7 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 43 Rim pa School,"Fiowers in Landscape with Fence,"two-pa nel screen, color on paper,
early 18th c., 4 ft 5 in x 4 ft 7 in (1.3 x 1.4 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Hanging Scrolls (Kakejiku or Kakemono)

The fixed frame picture of the West, hung for decades on the same wall, was
unknown to the Orient where hanging scrolls (kakejiku or kakemono) could be
rolled up and easily stored away. The designs were painted or drawn on silk or
paper laid on paper. At the heavy bottom end were rollers made of ivory, wood,
or porcelain. Additional little weights were placed on each end to keep the scroll
from moving too much if there was a draft. At the top there were two flaps
(futai) which hung down and strings from each side going up to the hanging
cord. Matching paper and surrounds play a great role in bringing out the qualities
of a scroll-not a job for beginners.
Traditional Japanese paintings (nihonga) use mineral pigments, unlike the
oil-based pigments of the West. This means that they are dreamier and cleaner in
a way. They can stand being rolled up and taken out now and then (quite often,
in fact), but of course their condition is not improved by it and it should be done
with great care. Some scrolls get framed nowadays, as in the West, to prevent
damage to the paint or Indian ink, but most scrolls in antiquarian quarters are
rolled as in the past and stored in a box, perhaps within another if particularly
cherished. There is likely to be an inscription (on the inner or outer) box saying
what kind of work it is and by whom, as this saves getting it out each time to
check in a store or private storehouse. In cheaper stores, they are hung in rows.
Since about 1600, the most cherished place for a scroll was the tokonoma, a
ceremonial alcove placed slightly off-center in important rooms. Usually on the
left, it is set aside for beauty, not utility, like a mantelpiece in the West. (You
might not believe that statement in certain ryokan and minshuku (inns) where the
tokonoma gets stuffed with televisions, telephones, or safes.) The alcove may
hold a seasonal flower arrangement and hanging scroll. The important guest will
always be seated in front of it, the place of honor.
Scrolls were changed frequently to suit the season, mood, or occasion-to
honor a special guest, for example, or to suit the flowers in a room. After the
war, when Japanese wages were low, there was a brisk demand from American
soldiers for decorative scrolls, mainly of kimonoed women, on strips of silk not
made into formal pieces or signed. These were taken home and spread widely.
They are still quite cheap and make pleasant gifts but are not exactly art either,
as they were mass-produced.
 An important distinction is made between paintings on silk (kempon) and
those on much less expensive and more fragile paper. Remounting silk is
feasible so it has a potentially longer life. A work's life is determined by the
backing paper and mount, as well as by its treatment. Another drastic gap is
between original and printed works-therefore lower-priced, still desirable for
those not on six-figure incomes.

Hand Scrolls (E-maki or E-makimono)

Hand scrolls (e-maki) are attached to two wooden rollers which you roll in your
hands from right to left, as that is how Chinese and Japanese were long written:
vertical columns run from right to left. (Nowadays, fiction and literary works
such as criticism are usually still written like that, as well as cartoon books, but
textbooks and how-to type books read like Western books, from left to right;
surprisingly the Chinese have taken to it for everything).
You unroll the left-hand roller as you roll up the right-hand roller; images
and text come in from the left. They may be 50 feet (16 meters) long or much
shorter. Because of their length, they can tell a long story in a pictorial or even
cartoon style.

Fig. 44 Anon., "Deer," six-panel screen, gold leaf, mineral colors, 18th c., 5 ft 6 in x 8 ft (1.7 x 2.4
m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig.45 Anon.,"Fans and Waves," six-panel screen, color on paper, early 18th c., 5 ft 3 in x 11 ft 8
in (1.6 x 3.6 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Fig. 46 Anon., "Haw ks with Baby Chicks," six-panel screen, color on paper, 18th c., 54ft 9 1/2 in x
9ft 2 in (16.7 x 2.8 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 47 Anon., but connected to Imperial family because of jewel-like bronze corners and backing
paper with imperial crest in gold,"Emperor's Garden, "six-panel screen, sumi and colors with gold
leaf on paper, early 17th C., 5ft 11 in X 12ft 6 in (1.8 X 3.8 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.

Fig. 48 Anon.,"Tales of Genji," scenes from five chapters of classic Heian period novel, six-panel
screen, ink, color, and gold on paper, 5 ft 7 in x 12 ft 31 /2 in (1.7 x 3.8 m). Photo courtesy Liza
Hyde.
Fig. 49 a, b Ogawa Ukō (1911 -), "Tagasode and Woman," pair of two-panel screens, painting
and textile, ca. 18th c., each 5 ft 8 1/2 in x 6ft 2 in (1.7 x 1.9 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
Fig. 50 Minakami Taisei, Fukuoka artist (d. 1950s), screen on wall of Consul-General David
Pabst's living room, Nishinomiya, 11 ft (3.3 m).

Westerners may see erotic calendars-one picture for each month of the year,
characterized by more or fewer clothes on the naked-ish bodies, and the
appearance of fans or a brazier as the seasons change. The couple remains the
same: the male tanned, the female white. As explained in the chapter on ukiyo-e
and prints, erotic images are common, so decisions about children and
appropriate placing come up.
Few hand scrolls have been made during the last hundred years, so they are
becoming rarer. This may be linked to utility in the multimedia age. They are too
much of a throwback to an earlier age to order in quantity. The painting can be
very fine but the quality of the whole may decline with use, so it is important to
check carefully. Another aspect to consider is utility or display: where and how?
It is common to find hand scrolls that have been chopped up into the constituent
images for easier sale or for displaying flat, rather than in a roll.

Collecting Screens and Scrolls

There is no surer way of bringing a touch of the exotic Orient into your home
than putting up a screen or scroll. Automatically visitors' eyes move that way
and questions form which could electrify an evening. In Japan's long art history,
thousands of artists and scholars have made attractive pictures and it is silly to
say that one should collect this or that artist. It makes sense to find out first if
you like the field at all by looking around at museums, galleries, and friends'
houses before spending any money. If you find they appeal after you get used to
them, then go around more galleries and museums to find out in which direction
your interests lie.
Prices for the Kanō school studio master, or famous modern artists like
Uemura Shōen, have many zeros (like Impressionist or Cubist artists). The
prices involved and the proposed position and decor in a room decide whether
you want to splurge. On the other hand, older hanging scrolls by unknown artists
are extremely cheap-perhaps $100-200 for "nameless" scrolls in so-so condition
in Japan. This is, in fact, much less than the new materials cost.
The changes in Japan's housing, away from large communal houses to
nuclear family "mansions" (with no room to swing a cat, let alone display a
screen), mean that there are too many so-so scrolls or screens and hence they go
for low prices compared with their intrinsic worth, or indeed replacement cost.
The market for traditional art shapes is poor, and so for the last hundred years a
lot of innovation has taken place in other "shapes;" this is covered towards the
end of the print chapter.

Warning Advice
The photographs in this chapter are of excellent screens and scrolls but be aware
that forgery occurs, particularly with "famous" names like Yokoyama Taikan
(1868-1958); if you counted up how many pieces he "signed," he would have
been working day and night for 1,000 years and still be producing long after his
death! Similarly, I was once offered a print signed by the great nearly blind print
artist Munakata Shikō (1903-75). Inquisitive, I was quoted ¥40,000. I said I
thought it was fake and offered him ¥2,000 ($18) for fun. He took it gratefully
and now I am stuck with a dubious print.
 If you become seriously interested in screens or scrolls, you deserve a
serious partner, so should get close to a famous dealer who has an interest in
guarding unsullied her/his reputation and so will respect you for asking for the
best.

Fig. 51 "Sakyamuni Shaka Rising from the Gold Coffin," hanging scroll, color on silk, 11th c., 5 ft
3 in x 7ft 5 in (1.6 x 2.3 m), National Treasure, Kyoto National Museum. When Shaka's mother,
Maya, hurried down from heaven crying, Shaka lifted the coffin lid, told her of the frailty of life and
got back in. His body radiates thousands of rays, each holding thousands of Buddhas at his divine
resurrection. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 52 "Amida Coming over the Mountain," hanging scroll, color on silk, 13th c., 4ft x 2ft 6 in (1.2
x 0.7 m). National Treasure, Kyoto National Museum. Unusually, Amida looks half to the left, right
hand up, left hand down. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

Avoid printed pieces if you are hoping to make money eventually. They will
never become expensive: if they did, somebody would print a few thousand
more. If you want to decorate a room, they are fine and cheaper than originals
and may indeed be by famous artists-originally!
Paper and silk were both used for making scrolls and screens. Paper is
cheaper but is less resistant to tearing. The condition of a screen or scroll is
absolutely vital because re-backing or extensive restoration can cost major sums
of money. A Pittsburgh friend had a two-panel screen done up in Japan for $700.
Before leaving the country, he realized that taking it back to the US would cost
too much and he had the screen auctioned. He received just a third of the cost of
the remounting alone.
A screen or scroll should have no obvious damage or dirty marks. The
condition of the paper on the back is not so important, as changing that is not
dear and can be done later. Besides, guests will not normally see it. People who
love paper will find that scrolls are backed by a fantastic array of different
papers.
Washi has an unrivalled place in the paper world, being strong and of infinite
variety. (See Sukey Hughes' comprehensive book on the subject.) I have bought
several cheap scrolls for the paper alone! Though less paper is made by hand
these days, there are still villages like Kurodani or Najio which depend on it for
their livelihood.
Fig. 53 Itō Jakuchū (1716-1800), "Cocks and Hens," fusuma painting, 1790, detail from set of
nine wall panels formerly in Kai-hō-ji, Fushimi, Kyoto. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 54 "Crows on a Plum Branch" (detail), six door panels attributed to Unkoku Tog an (1547-
1618), colors and gold leaf on paper, each 5 ft 4 in x 5 ft 1 in (1.6 x 1.5 m). Panels originally at
Najima Castle (built 1588-9). Typical Momoyama composition of huge plum with crows in the
snow. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

Fig. 55 Crane designs, lower detail from collection of calligraphy by Hon'ami Kōetsu and painting
by Tawaraya Sōtatsu, hand scroll, ink and paper, 17th c., 1 ft 11 in x 44ft 5 in (58 cm x 13.6 m),
extraordinary elegance. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 56 Kokin Wakashū (love poem) calligraphy, hand scroll, ink on decorated paper, 11th c., 6 1/2
in x 8 ft (16 cm x 2.4 m), attributed to Ono no Tōfū (894-966), the great calligrapher, but in the
collection of Hon'ami, Kyoto National Museum. Most celebrated meibutsu-gire (famous fragment).
Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

Choosing Screens and Scrolls

Choosing furniture has certain practical aspects, such as do the drawers hold
enough or will it fit into a particular space? Nonutilitarian art objects require
different criteria.
First impressions are important. As dealer Sōbian of Kyoto says, "Does it hit
you in the eyes?" The movement of the paint brush (esuji) is important. For
example, the susuki (eulalia or pampas grass) should not look flaccid but stand
erect. Jot down the artist's name, period, and condition, and if it is an original
piece or a print, or if it has been repaired. "The name may not matter to you now,
but it is vital for possible resale-and for chatting to guests."
Think how the screen or scroll will go with the color of your sofa or with the
curtains. In Japan, a conscientious dealer may take a screen or scroll to a client's
house if he is strongly interested. Some dealers do not like to do this, as it is
time-consuming and may cause wear and tear. Also ask about "after care."
The air-conditioning of some Westerners' houses is direct and may tear
screens or stain scrolls. Insist that the seller be willing to help with little repairs
later if affected by air-conditioning.
Many Westerners like kachō (stilllifes of flowers and birds). Those who tire
of them, purchase simple designs of the moon or sun. Karako (Chinese boys) are
not popular among Westerners (too cute perhaps?). Lawyers seem to like hawks
and tigers, as their strong or fierce looks suggest winning lawsuits, says Sōbian.
Galleries in capitals tend to be more expensive than elsewhere but inevitably
they have better works and the dealers provide much more information; if they
do, purchasing there is a good bet.
A sense of season permeates the designs on hanging scrolls, but less so
screens. When you first buy a scroll, you should purchase a work you like,
without worrying about its season. Few are devoid of season. Flowers are
inevitably seasonal. If you buy several hanging scrolls, you may develop a sense
of season. If you do, you should think carefully about the seasonal element when
making later purchases. But don't be a toady. Become an Antipodean!
Fig. 57 Hokusai (1760-1849),"Shell Gathering," hanging scroll, color on silk, early 19th c., 1 ft 8 in
x 2ft 8 in (50 x 81 cm). Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.

Genuineness
It would take a few volumes to describe what could happen with art. Here I shall
mention a few precautions, starting with "use your head" and "use your eyes."
Look at the ends and back of the scroll or screen you are considering buying. If
the dealer says a piece is very old and there is no evidence of wear, something is
amiss. If a scroll has been kept very carefully in a box within a box and only
taken out once a year, it may look almost new, but consider if it is likely that you
can buy such a treasure if low-priced-it belonged to a rich man or connoisseur. If
the amount of visible wear agrees with the age mentioned by the dealer, then
things look better.
A screen stands on the ground and gets pushed open and shut, or to change
its shape. This friction should be visible, even if the base of the screen is
protected by metal plates on the corners. No wear, no age. In fact, age is not
necessary. A new screen can be very nice and easier to fit into Western
surroundings, but if the seller insists that it is old and unrepaired, then something
is wrong and you may not trust him/her.
Fig. 58 Kansai Mori Koshuku (1814-94), figure, probably Yang Gui-fei, mistress of Emperor Ming
Huang, late autumn, hanging scroll, 1871,7 ft 4 in x 2ft 8 in (2.2 m x 81 cm). Photo courtesy Liza
Hyde.
Fig. 59 Sakai Dōitsu,"Yūgao" (bottle gourds). hanging scroll, silk on paper, 1870-90, 5 ft 5 in x 1 ft
5 in (1.7 m x 43 cm). Sakai Dōitsu was a pupil of the famous Sakai Hōitsu of the Rimpa School.
Both were good at kachō (flowers and birds). Rimpa painters liked the tarashikomi technique
used here where another pigment is added while the previous pigment is not yet dry, so that
colors run and generate unique colors. Photo courtesy Gallery Sōbian.
Fig. 60 Mio Goseki,"Tora" (tiger), hanging scroll, Meiji era, 6 ft 9 in x 1 ft 9 in (2.1 m x 53 cm). Mio
Goseki was a pupil of Ōhashi Suiseki. Both excelled at tiger pictures. Photo courtesy Gallery
Sōbian.

Fig. 61 Uchida Gozan, "Chūshū getsurin" (harvest moon), hanging scroll, Meiji era, 6 ft 6 in x 1 ft
8 in (2m x51 cm). The design is interesting as the moon is depicted by delicate light and dark
areas of sumi. Photo courtesy Gallery Sōbian.

Fig. 62 Takenaka Kidō, "Hotaru" (fireflies) and summer grasses, hanging scroll, Meiji era, 6ft 4 in
x 1 ft 8 in (1.9 m x 51 cm). Kidō is not so famous but fireflies are popular because their lifetime is
so short: a picture of them captures a moment. Photo courtesy Gallery Sōbian.

Traditionally, screens and scrolls were boxed. If that box is a tomobako, or

accompanying box, there may well be a name, date and signature. If these details
do not match those on the work, the work should sell for less than otherwise.
The signature on some works has been added later and this completely changes
society's valuation. English readers are unlikely to ever get to the stage of really
knowing signatures, but they can look at materials and check that they look
right.
Screens and scrolls fit into Western rooms only after thought. They are a
diadem of Japanese civilization and often examples of great art, so it is worth
thinking creatively. If you buy what an expert or two also think has aesthetic
value and is in good condition, then it will become a family heirloom, not an
Enron or WorldCom. stock certificate.
Fig. 63 Ema (horse votive tablet), commemorative funeral painting on wood, 2ft 9 in x 4ft 8 1/2 in
(84 cm x 1.4 m). Photo courtesy Liza Hyde.
UKIYO-E AND OTHER PRINTS
The earliest prints to be made in Japan were ordered by the Empress
in 664. Although a lot of early prints are repetitive, the better ones
have fine color and line and are Buddhist in origin and theme. The
techniques were brought from China. One acquired merit by regularly
drawing, painting, or printing as many Buddhist images as possible,
so educated devotees and priests produced a great number. This
practice weakened with declining religious fervor from the fourteenth
century. Since they were both cheap and portable, prints then became
souvenirs of temples and shrines for visiting pilgrims.
Some people collect these prints, but the main collecting channels
are described in the next sections. However, an interesting collection
of old Buddhist prints was described by Meher McArthur in Daruma
16. Such prints are mainly sought by scholars or those deeply
interested in religion, as their focus is on parts of religious life foreign
to us.
Fig. 64 Hiroshige (1797-1858),"100 Views of Famous Places in Edo-Kawaguchi no Watashi
Zenkōji," woodblock print, 1857. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Note: Ukiyo-e were made before concepts of limited editions existed; artists' birth and death dates may be uncertain.
Standard sizes include Oban: 15 x 10 in (38 x 25 cm), but sometimes half an inch smaller; Chūban: 8 x 11 in (20 x 28 cm),
and Hosoban: 6 x 12 in (15 x 30 cm).

Fig. 65 Masanobu (1686-1764)."Man and Three Ladies," woodblock print, sumizuri-e (black and
white print). ca. 1715. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Woodblock Prints (Ukiyo-e)

Woodblocks were long used to publish books with or without images, but
ukiyo-e pictures of the Floating (or entertainment/ pleasure) World started from
around 1665 when Japan finally enjoyed peace and rising prosperity. With
money but little freedom, townsmen devoted themselves to pleasure: time was
often spent drinking or at brothels and kabuki theaters.
People wore fancy clothes and enjoyed extravagant lifestyles and to express
themselves sought an art form unlike those of the court or Buddhist monks.
Ukiyo-e thus celebrated a hedonistic society. Sensual courtesans in the most
popular and stylish costumes, and dramatic scenes from kabuki plays were the
main subjects. The works did not moralize like priests, nor depict an
aesthetically ideal landscape like court painters.
Initially, the subject matter of ukiyo-e was up-market, with masked
references to Chinese literature or Genji Monogatari episodes. After about
1800, however, woodblock prints no longer appealed only to this leisured,
educated class, but to ordinary people with everyday interests. Nowadays, those
same people would focus on television or movies, but the kabuki theater then
was where the heart -throbs were. Many woodblock prints show an actor in a
favorite, climactic pose (mie) and were bought by his fans as they were cheap
and attractive mementos.
All over the land a main reason for buying prints made in Tokyo was to see
the latest fashions worn by actors and courtesans. In this sense, prints foreran
fashion magazines and television. With the regular, enforced sojourns by
clansmen in the capital, many prints got taken home to the clan lands, so men
and women could see the latest clothes and hairstyles prevailing in the capital.
Top fashion photographs are snapped by the very best today but with Edo
prints, there was a difference. The best-connected aspiring artists got into
famous Kanō and Tosa school studios and could expect a secure career, but the
ukiyo-e world was treated by the samurai class with disdain: those without the
right connections had to risk the nether world of ukiyo-e, because that was
where the work was and fame might come among the townspeople (but maybe
not money). Colleague Peter Ujlaki says that apart from Hokusai (who did get
painting and surimono or print commissions, but was careless with money like
the typical Edokko so always out of pocket), artists accepted lower prestige to
work in ukiyo-e, generally out of a love for the lifestyle of the theater and
amusement districts, so they worked for love not lucre.
Fig. 66 Toyoharu (1735-1814),"Eiegance: Six Clear Rivers," woodblock print. Photo courtesy Mita
Arts Gallery.
Fig. 67 Kiyonaga (1752-1815),"Minami Jūnikō," woodblock print, ca. 1785. Photo courtesy Mita
Arts Gallery.
Fig. 68 Koryūsai (fl.late 18th c.), chūban, woodblock print, ca. 1770. Photo courtesy Mita Arts
Gallery.
Fig. 69 Utamaro,"Three Beauties," one of triptych, ca. 1800. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 70 Utamaro,"Teachings in Pa rents' Eyes-Bakuren" (abandoned woman), woodblock print,
ca. 1802. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

A third, if less common, reason for the existence of prints was to advertise a
particular establishment or kimono design. The Floating World, epitomized by
Yoshiwara in Edo, was very competitive, and since some prints bear the names
of geisha houses, it is reasonable to see a connection. Many prints of women
name their place of work. Thus, prints would have been a good way to show
which lovely women worked where and what they wore.
Occasionally, a woman might give a regular client a print of herself as a
token of affection or to remind him where to find her-in much the same way that
name cards are used today! Some experts, however, do not share this reasoning.
Judging by the current passion for erotic prints and animation, another merit
of prints must have been that they fed the Japanese people's insatiable appetite
for the visual. As a northern European, in the wrong mood I find the visual
clutter of Japan (and Hong Kong, etc.) an eyesore, but there is also something
charming about a narrow street full of vertical signs-ergo these prints.
It is interesting to note that Japanese cartoons and fashions are increasingly
popular in other Asian countries.

Popularity in the West

Westerners have always felt the pull of ukiyo-e, probably because they show
landscapes, clothing, and a way of life quite unlike anything in Europe or
America. As a result, many dealers, curators, and collectors have considerable
knowledge of the subject, while museums, auction houses, and stores are well
stocked with prints.
Woodblock images of the Floating World became popular from the 1860s in
the West, captivating people with their vitality, fresh ness, and charm, and
causing the Japonisme art movement. Ukiyo-e were collected by Van Gogh,
Gauguin, and Monet. In a way, Westerners are responsible for rescuing ukiyo-e
from oblivion, as most indigenous critics scorned them in the later 1800s, though
aware that the print artist Utamaro was different and that Westerners loved
Hokusai and Hiroshige too.
Ukiyo-e influence is seen in masters like Van Gogh, Whistler, and
Toulouse-Lautrec, dating from the time when ukiyo-e by unknowns were said
at times to be but liner in a box of curios packed for European travelers, or sold
by the pound to curio collectors, sometimes after being dirtied to make them
appear "older."
One secret of the enduring popularity of ukiyo-e is the way some artists
went beyond the Japanese tradition of using line and sensitivity to convey
scenes, and incorporated perspective (putting Westerners at ease) in scenes that
are still quintessentially exotic, thereby inducing frissons of both recognition
and shock. Other reasons are the soaring creative imagination shown in choosing
scenery (see later, Hokusai and Hiroshige), the human warmth of genre scenes
like the inebriated revelers and snoozing dogs in Kuniyoshi's "Yoshiwara
Embankment by Moonlight," and the playfulness of Hiroshige's "Ratcatcher" or
Kuniyoshi's "Six Immortal Poets as Cats," which satirizes the Chinese tradition
of making respectful images of famous authors. Through punning allusions to
them or their poems, it depicts six fat cats socializing: the great Heian era poets
(Rokkasen) Ariwara no Narihira, Ono no Komachi (the lasting image of female
beauty and poetic excellence), Sōjō Henjō, Bunya no Yasuhide, Kisen Hōshi,
and Ōtomo no Kuronushi.

Fig. 71 Toyokuni I (1769-1825), "Today's Match of Beauties-Saké Cup as Mirror," woodblock print,
ca. 1820. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 72 Toyokuni I,"Fireworks at Ryōgoku," woodblock print, triptych, ca. 1790. Photo courtesy
Mita Arts Gallery.

Fig. 73 Hokusai (1760-1849),"Kanadehon Chūshingura Scene VI," wood block print, ca. 1806.
Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Lastly, ukiyo-e and literature had close connections. Many artists studied
poetry, like haiku, waka (five-line poems), and kyōka (satirical poems) and
added them to prints. This literary dimension adds to our appreciation of their
images, if explained.
To fully understand ukiyo-e, one should know the lineage of the various
schools and who studied under whom. For brevity, this book leaves the reader to
go to other sources for that information and this chapter provides just an
overview.
A tradition emerged a hundred years ago of writing off most artists working
after the early nineteenth century. Some artists then, and earlier, lacked
originality but many prints of the first half of the nineteenth century display
superb draftsmanship, conception, and execution. Fin de siècle disapproval had
other currents and reasons, but lingers. Collectors should use their own eyes to
find out what is good, not rely on Victorian prejudice; then some thought
Hiroshige was the last great artist. Recent books on prolific Kunisada,
bloodthirsty Yoshitoshi, and Kiyochika (who immortalized scenes from the
Sino-Japanese and Russo-Japanese Wars of 1894-5 and 1904-5) show how much
longer the genre survived-with greatness!

Creativity of Erotic Prints (Shunga)

One area of ukiyo-e long kept hidden was the enormous output of erotic prints (a
third or more of the total ukiyo-e output, according to some estimates). Called
shunga, they traditionally showed men and women with enormous sexual organs
cavorting with glee, sometimes eyed by similarly active humans, mice, or dogs
in the background. These pictures embarrassed the modernizers of the Meiji era
and influenced several generations of Japanese into instant disapproval, for
social or religious reasons, despite the long tradition of erotic art in the country
(just as mixed bathing was later banned) after Western, especially missionary,
criticism.
They still offend traditional family types and often governments, but the
genre is fascinating as art (the prints often display impeccable draftsmanship), as
social history (the boudoir and traditional furnishings are lavishly displayed),
and as a facet of a way of life that is no more.
Even in recent years, astonishingly amusing works have been created. I have
a recent hand scroll of dubious intent but great amusement value in which all the
actors show appropriate sang-froid. Among others, it depicts men with
immense members engaged in "member wrestling"; the shaved pate of a
kowtowing samurai is shown to closely resemble a nearby circumcised member
head; a kimonoed male dancer performs on a tightrope supported by two giant
erect members; like snake charmers, a shamisen (three-string ukulele) and a
flute player encourage a top to continue spinning on another erection, amid
many other tricks of imaginative fantasy.
In 1995, the Japanese government finally loosened the publishing laws
concerning shunga so some of the best series have recently been issued in book
form, including a set by the late and much lamented Richard Lane, and by
Hayashi Yoshikazu through Kawade Shobō. They are inexpensive (¥1,800-2,500
per volume in Japan or $15-20), have handsome photographs, and an abridged
English text telling you most of what you need.

Fig. 74 Hokusai,"Shinban Ukie-Eight Hills Piled High with Flowers and Viewers," woodblock print,
ca. 1804. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 75 Hokusai,"Fuji 36 Views-Tōtōmi Mountains," wood block print, ca. 1835. Photo courtesy
Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 76 Kunisada (1786-1864), "Imitation Murasaki lnaka Genji-Murasaki," woodblock print, ca.
1830. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 77 Kunisada,"Soga Gorō," woodblock print, ca. 1830. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

They were produced to amuse men but also women who were bored and
frustrated (and who often lived apart from their husbands for months at a time);
as "pillow books," they were also used as instruction manuals for the soon-to-be
wed. Some of those are still to be found but may be of later origin as many of the
best were copied later and republished.
The peak of artistry and popularity was around 1800. In common with other
prints, an important element was the poems incorporated or alluded to in these
prints. This extra dimension deepens their attraction for those who follow them
up.

The First Century

The most important names from 1665 until 1765 included Moronobu, Kiyonobu
I, Kaigetsudō, Masanobu, Shigenaga, and Sukenobu (it is hard to find these
artists' work but curators would jump at the chance, though many appeared in
Sotheby's auction of the Beres Collection in November 2003). The prints were
initially monochrome, but as time wore on, single colors were brushed on, then
several (sometimes mixed with lacquer for added effect). In 1765, colors were
added by woodblock (nishiki-e), creating the colorful prints we know.
Harunobu (1725-1770) is loved for his "calendar" prints and soft, haunting,
refined pictures of women with classical allusions that he made in a kind
of"divine frenzy" from 1764 until his death. He became famous for his e-
goyomi (pictorial calendars), the first in color. Bunchō, Koryūsai, and Shunshō
were leading contemporaries, with Koryūsai using stronger colors than
Harunobu.
In the 1780s, Kiyonaga's bijin-ga (pictures of beauties) and genre pictures
were admired by all for their restraint and dignity. The composition is classic,
perhaps especially in figure groups outside, and in processions, with no
extraneous detail.
The favorite ukiyo-e artist among Japanese is Utamaro (1753-1806). He
endowed women with special elegance, partly by making them proportionately
taller, like El Greco figures, and so slimmer. Instead of viewing them from a
distance, he came close up: a woman combs her hair or applies white to her
neck, as though just a foot away from the viewer. At times he chose a pensive
mood to delve into her character and made series with introspective titles like
"Women in Love" or "The Flirty Type," so adding a psychological angle.
Utamaro focused on bijin portraits. Most have no context but some are placed in
imaginary contexts as abalone divers or on Sumida River cruises, so his output
covered a wide field. He also made wonderful shunga.
Fig. 78 Hiroshige,"Vertical Tōkaidō-Kusatsu," woodblock print, ca. 1855. Photo courtesy Mita Arts
Gallery.
Fig. 79 Hiroshige, "100 Views of Famous Places in Edo-Rain at Ohashi," woodblock print, 1857.
Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

The Mystery of Sharaku

Sharaku was only active 1794-95 but in ten months revolutionized ukiyo-e by
adding infinitely greater expression to his characters' faces and a touch of
parody. His brutally honest depiction of mie (facial expressions climaxing and
encapsulating a kabuki drama) were unflattering, if truthful, but a great moment
in world art.
What makes his oeuvre more extraordinary is the idea (there are many
others, some assuming he was a Nō actor from Shikoku, for instance) that
Sharaku was a temporary name of Hokusai (he has a dozen others). Tanaka
Hidemichi, in Sharaku wa Hokusai de Aru, bases his theory on Western art
history and stylistic principles (he claims) and an extensive comparison of
portraits, for example by Katsukawa Shunrō (an alias of Hokusai) in 1791 with
one by Sharaku in 1794, and another said to be of Sakata Hangorō by Sharaku in
May 1794 and the same by Katsukawa Shunrō (i.e. Hokusai) in 1791. This is
pretty persuasive though I have not read all 405 pages or opposing works. Rikard
Anderssen, a dealer in Tokyo, is equally sure that Chōki made them.
Chōki, Eishi, Eiri, Eishō, Toyoharu (proponent of perspective), and Toyohiro
are excellent artists of the late eighteenth century.

Landscape Titans
In his seventy working years, Hokusai (1760-1849) made many of the images
for which Japan is famous. In the "Great Wave;' we see distant Mt Fuji through
stormy waves whose dragon claws threaten to sink the boats of frightened
fishermen. "Red Fuji" lends drama and new pigments to the nation's sacred
symbol. He combined man and nature in unemotional but highly dramatic ways.
Hokusai taught that everything is a circle or triangle. He imposed geometry on
nature in the most extraordinary ways. In "Yotsuya;' the ground, rocks, and
water are striated into shapes we seldom see though they are possible, while his
"Sumō Wrestlers" are given smooth buttocks and calves but their knees and
ankles have weird skin folds; both deformations lend shape to the compositions.
Hokusai worked day and night and left countless works (estimates range from
35,000 to 70,000). The big prints in good condition are beyond the means of
most collectors but others, like book designs and cartoons, are very reasonably
priced-and still magical.
Fig. 80 Hiroshige,"100 Views of Famous Places in Edo-Draper's Shop, Dai Temma-chō,"
woodblock print, 1858. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Fig. 81 Eisen (1790-1848)."Eight Scenes of Edo-Ryōgoku Bridge Reflected in the Evening Sun,"
woodblock print, ca. 1844. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Hiroshige (1797-1858) did all kinds of prints, including bijin (beauties) and
actors, but became famous for his "53 Stations of the Tōkaidō" series. He had a
special talent for depicting man in a sensitive, poetic relationship to the
landscape. His countryside had a lyrical beauty marking it out from every other.
Hiroshige etched pictures of rural Japan into the minds of Westerners. His
overall production was huge, so is still available to modest collectors. Prices are
rising and will continue to do so because Hiroshige is an artist with a wonderful
imagination and eye. Gentler than Hokusai, he added a poetic softness which
endears him to all.

Ukiyo-e's Decline and Fall

Eizan and Eisen are good artists of the early nineteenth century; both teacher and
pupil were talented at bijin. Toyokuni was a prolific printmaker and collector of
pupils (their names fill pages) whom readers will find in quantity in antique
shops, such as his pupil Kuniyoshi who had a strong imagination, seen for
example in his "Musashino Subduing a Whale."
 Toyokuni II made some memorable prints, such as the "Eight Famous
Views" print of a mountain temple where the rain plays a heroic role. Kunisada
(later dubbed Toyokuni III) is an affordable and attractive artist-hence more
likely to appear in a collection than pre-1800 artists. Though Kunitora is not so
well known, a personal favorite is a print, "Lingering Snow on Mt Hira,'' from
his "Eight Views of Ōmi" series.
After the 1860s, traditional printmaking began to lose some of its impetus
and the colors also began to change with the introduction of new chemical
pigments from Germany. There was a great vogue for the equivalent of horror
movies: gory scenes, massacres, and ghosts! The leader, Yoshitoshi, specialized
in bloodthirsty, demonic pictures. One famous but gruesome woodblock print
(Fig. 93) shows a very pregnant woman hung upside down and a man about to
slash her open.
Kiyochika (1847-1915) was an all-rounder who had a poetic eye like
Hiroshige, and is generally considered the last real ukiyo-e artist and perhaps
first modern print artist. He made many Tokyo street scenes, including imports
like railways-very popular in the 1870s and 1880s. He is also remembered for
battlefront pictures of the Sino-and Russo-Japanese Wars of 1895-1905, which
endow the scenes with an unexpected soft beauty.
Fig.82 Yoshitora (1830-87),"British Man," woodblock print, 1861. Photo courtesy Mita Arts
Gallery.
Fig. 83 Sadahide (1807-73),"Walking the Dog," woodblock print, 1860. Photo courtesy Mita Arts
Gallery.

Foreigners in Prints
The existence of the Dutch trading post on Dejima, Nagasaki, had allowed the
entry of European subject matter such as ships, techniques like etching and
perspective, and even for two months in 1818, a Dutchwoman, Mrs Blomhoff,
and the nanny for her son.
A few print publishers emerged from the 1740s offering Nagasaki prints of
Dutchmen and their Javanese servants, Dutch ships, and pictures of Nagasaki
Harbor. The work was inbred, with little new to offer, but occasional excitement,
such as the arrival of a Russian fleet in 1853, augmented the repertoire.
Nevertheless, many Japanese artists went to Nagasaki to study "Dutch learning"
(rangaku) which included art techniques like perspective and sciences like
botany and anatomy.
This confrontation with foreign learning brought about radical change,
immensely broadening the scope of Shiba Kōkan, Aōdō Denzen, and Hiraga
Gen'nai. In a history of Japanese painting and prints, these are important names
but they are not usually collectible because of money and rarity; ordinary
Nagasaki prints are affordable, though few appear on the market.
Although Western learning had seeped into Japan from Nagasaki for two and
a half centuries, the Nagasaki tradition petered out-or moved to Yokohama-after
the treaty ports were opened. Perhaps one could mention, as similar, the prints of
the locomotives connecting Osaka and Kobe by Konobu and others, or Tokyo
and Yokohama in the 1870s.
The arrival of Westerners brought new buyers and subjects like Yokohama
prints, with their emphasis on strange foreign buildings (like banks), customs
and inventions, but also new publications such as papers and magazines. These
and cameras gradually took over the role of ukiyo-e, though newspapers
sometimes asked ukiyo-e artists for illustrations.
Fig. 84 Hironobu (fl.1851-70),"Actor Ōtani Tomomatsu," ōban, 1865. Large format bust portraits
were extremely rare then in Osaka's printmaking decline. Photo courtesy Peter Ujlaki.
Fig. 85 Urakusai Nagahide (active 1805-42),"Courtesan in Costume Parade from Gion, Kyoto,"
hosoban stencil print, 1814.Dark-skinned assistant mimics Dutchman's servant. Photo courtesy
Pete Ujlaki.

In summing up Yokohama prints, Roger Keyes states that "The most

observant and interesting of these artists was Utagawa Sadahide (1807-73),
while others included Yoshi'iku, Yoshikazu and Yoshitora;' pupils of Utagawa
Kuniyoshi. Common were sets of prints of Americans, Englishmen, Russians,
Frenchmen, and Dutchmen, with an occasional Chinese. A lot of misinformation
was added to the false stereotypes.
Triptychs also showed buildings, home interiors, parades, and ships. The
peak was 1860-62, shortly after the port opened, but the vein soon withered.

Osaka Prints
Edo was the center of ukiyo-e production and supplied the whole country with
the names you will be familiar with, but Osaka had its own tradition. These
Kamigata-e (Kyoto-Osaka prints) pleased theater-goers there by depicting local
heroes. Osakans were addicted to the theater, so most prints are of actors.
There was also a tradition of making prints using very expensive printing
techniques-mica, metallics, and embossing-for special customers and theatrical
fan clubs. Works by Hokushū, Hokuei, Hirosada, and Konobu may appeal to
some buyers. The first three did mainly actor prints, which are still available,
while the fourth did new technology (Bunmei Kaika) prints, for example of
railways. These are harder to find (Figs. 84, 85, 88-90, 92).

The Meiji Break

Narazaki Muneshige in The Japanese Print says that "Many Meiji prints were
characterized by the lavish use of a bright scarlet color, and they are sometimes
referred to as aka-e ('red pictures'). A peculiar shade of lavender was also used."
He adds that ukiyo-e smoothed the path from feudalism to Westernization by
visual means, till they were replaced by cameras and presses.
The Meiji Revolution seemed likely to sweep away all of Japan's artistic
traditions until Ernest Fenollosa's persuasive warnings caused important people
to stop and think. A dual system grew up whereby artists knew of the other but
mainly followed either the old or the new path and so methods and materials.
Kuroda Kiyoteru and Fujishima Takeji were leading Western-style painters,
whereas Tomioka Tessai, Takeuchi Seihō, Yokoyama Taikan, and Maeda Seison
worked in the Japanese tradition. Later, Umehara Ryūzaburō worked in a post-
Impressionist style. Okada Kenzo was a leading abstract painter of the time,
while Higashiyama Kai'i painted magical hillsides. He was given commissions
by temples and palaces.
Dozens of artists headed for the West, especially Paris, where Foujita (Fujita
Tsuguharu) stayed for decades, was admired for his whites and fine line, became
a Christian, and even made church murals. The poetic Takehisa Yumeji
succeeded there too and is drooled over now by Japanese girls.
Fig. 86 Kuniyoshi,"Go Players," woodblock print, triptych, 1853. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Fig. 87 Toyokuni Ill (1786-1864), "Sumō (Kimenzan vs. Shiranui)," triptych woodblock print, 1857.
Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 88 Shunchō (later Hokushō, fl. 1822-32),"Nakamura Utaemon Ill's seven roles in one play,"
Osaka print, 1823. Ōban harimaze prints like this hint of the extent of Osaka people's infatuation
with Utaemon. Photo courtesy Peter Ujlaki
Fig. 89 Shunbaisai Hokuei,"Nakamura Utaemon IV as Sumō Wrestler," surimono style ōban, 1837.
Shunbaisai was a leading Osaka print figure, active 1824-37. This may have been his last print as
his death is announced along the right edge. Photo courtesy Peter Ujlaki.
Fig. 90 Konobu (Sada nobu II) (1848-1940),"Trains," ca. 1875. This hosoban shows the early Meiji
enthus iasm for Western technology, here fancifully imagined steam locomotives against Kobe's
foreign settlement. Photo courtesy Peter Ujlaki.
Fig. 91 Kunichika (1835-1900), "Inside Kabuki Theater," woodblock print, triptych, 1892. Photo
courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 92 Toshimoto, Scenes of Hokkaidō (above) and To kyo (below), ōban, 1877. Toshimoto was
an Osaka artist active in the 1870s. This uncut pair of chuban shows how Western style (and mid-
Meiji despair) was reflected in woodblock prints. Photo courtesy Peter Ujlaki.

Fig. 93 Yoshitoshi (1838-92),"Adachi Gahara," wood blockprint, vertical diptych, 1885. Photo
courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 94 Yoshitoshi, "lnaka Genji," woodblock print, vertical diptych, 1885. Photo courtesy Mita Arts
Gallery.
Fig. 95 Yoshitoshi, "Kikaijima no Shunkan," woodblock print, vertical diptych, ca. 1887. Photo
courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 96 Yoshitoshi,"Actor Ichikawa Mimasu," woodblock print, triptych, ca. 1890. Photo courtesy
Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 97 Charles Bartlett (1860-1940), "Kobe," woodblock print, 1916,15 x 10 in (38 x 25 cm).
Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Fig. 98 Oda Kazuma (1882-1956), "Night in Utsunomiya," woodblock print, 1928. Photo courtesy
Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 99 Kawase Hasui (1883-1957), "Waves of Echigo Bay," woodblock print, 1921. Photo
courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 100 Fritz Capelari (1884-1950), "Woman Standing Before a Mirror," woodblock print, 1915,
16 x 7 in (41 x 18 cm). Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Fig.101 Ohara Koson (1877-1945), "Peacocks on Pine Trees," woodblock print, ca. 1925. Photo
courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 102 Akamatsu Rinsaku (1878-1953),"Kobe Wharf, 1917," from the series "Hanshin Meisho
Zue," a transitional series before the full blossoming of shin hanga. Foreigners arrive with a nanny
and pet bird. Photo courtesy Peter Ujlaki.
Fig. 103 Yamamura Kōka (1885-1942),"Dancing Scene at the New Carlton in Shanghai,"
woodblock print, 1925. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 104 Saitō Kiyoshi (1907-97), "Suspicious Eyes," 1973. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.

Fig.105 Munakata Shikō (1903-1975), "New York-Fence of Statue of Liberty," ca. 1950. Photo
courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Twentieth Century Prints
Few Westerners are likely to collect works which seem to step on the toes of
their own artistic traditions (oil paintings and watercolors in Western taste), so I
will point readers in the direction of the prints that were made during the
twentieth century in Japan with a stronger home-grown taste, suggesting that
they have something wonderful for us. The artists include foreigners who lived
for extensive periods in the country and were absorbed into the artistic stream-
like many today.
Ukiyo-e buying in Japan fell off in the 1890s, and with the continuing
vogue for things Western, it seemed that Japanese prints were finished.
However, the publisher Watanabe Shōsaburō went against the tide. He decided
to provide ideal atelier conditions and published excellent printmakers between
1915 and 1940.
Hashiguchi Goyō, Itō Shinsui, and Kawase Hasui made fine shin-hanga
(new-wave prints) which appealed to foreigners because of their delicacy and
"Japonism" themes, and to Japan's artistic circles, though not the ordinary people
who had been the main market: in a word, the publisher and artists went up-
market. These prints are well represented in Western museums.
Although ukiyo-e were associated in artists' minds with cheapness and poor
taste by the end of the nineteenth century, several printmakers bucked this trend.
We have seen how Watanabe fought this: Yoshida Hiroshi (1876-1950) and
his son Toshi had a vast output. Yoshida did new-style prints and established a
family school, while the Sōsaku Hanga (Creative Print) group raised aesthetic
and craft standards by having the artist do all the work, from conception to
printing-a big change. (Ukiyo-e had been designed, transferred to woodblocks
by specialists, verified and color-checked by the artist, then printed by others).
They were confident that they could be true artists, making the prints they
wanted and selling them in limited, numbered editions. After a slow start in
1918, the artists became more mainstream from 1920 to 1950.
Onchi Kōshirō made abstract prints within the group and Hiratsuka Un'ichi
used black and white to depict temples and landscapes. Munakata Shikō
employed Buddhist themes in folksy ways, like clothing a Kan'non as a sexy
woman: this chimed with the aims of the contemporaneous folkcraft movement.
Saitō Kiyoshi was immensely popular among postwar foreign residents of
Japan for his evocation of rural Japan. Oliver Statler, an avid fan and the editor
of a book, comments: "He is my favorite woodblock print artist because of his
elegantly simple forms and controlled choice of colors. I find each of his works-
particularly those made in the 1960s, which for me and many others is his best
period-to be unique, timeless and beautiful. You just never tire of gazing at a
1960s Saitō." Statler mentioned the "snowy landscapes of his native Aizu,
studies of Buddhist sculpture and of Kyoto's temples and gardens evoked in rich
earth tones."

Fig. 106 Itō Shinsui (1898-1972), "12 Figures of Modern Beauties-Make Up," woodblock print,
1922. Photo courtesy Mita Arts Gallery.
Fig. 107 Saitō Kiyoshi,"Persimmons in Aizu (38)," wood block, ed. 100, 1996, 21 x 15 in (53 x 38
cm). Photo courtesy Tolman Collection

Fig. 108 Hamanishi Katsunori (1949-), "Division #44," mezzotint, ed. 50, 1994, 30 x 20 in (76 x 50
cm). Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.
Fig. 109 lkegami lsao (1938-),"Ren" (love), silkscreen, ed. 55, 1992,22 x 19 in (56 x 48 cm).
Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.

Fig. 110 Nakazawa Shin'ichi (1956-), "Yatsuhashi Ill," etching/gold leaf, ed. 25, 2002, 18 x 27 in
(46 x 69 cm). Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.
 During the Occupation (1945-52), resident foreigners were relatively well-
paid and enthusiastic buyers, while most Japanese were starving and in no
position to buy art. This encouraged a tradition among artists of signing and/or
titling their works in English. This continues, though Japanese must now be the
biggest buyers, and Japanese titles and signatures are increasingly common.
In the 1950s and 1960s, Statler and James Michener wrote about the new
artists as did Richard Lane, while the Yōseidō Gallery on the Ginza was the
most important outlet. Since then, the Katō Gallery (especially famous for
excellent, if not cheap, framing) and the Tolman Collection have taken up the
running.
Japanese prints have also become famous overseas as well and are especially
admired for their variety and technical excellence. Several overseas museums
have extensive collections of modern Japanese prints, such as the British,
Metropolitan and Cincinnati Museums. This suggests that collectors who dabble
in Japanese prints are in good company!

Fig. 111 Imamura Yoshio (1948-), "Distant Breeze-A," etching, ed. 20, 2001,6 x 10 in (15 x 25
cm). Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.
Fig.112 lwami Reika (1927-),"Mizu no Yume," woodblock, ed. 25, 1997,20 x 25 in (50 x 63 cm).
Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.

Fig. 113 Kuroda Shigeki (1953-), "The Morning Glow," etching, ed. 70,2000, 7 x 19 in (18 x 48
cm). Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.
Fig. 114a, b Kurosa ki Akira (1937-), "Yoru no Tani " series, water-based woodb lock prints, 1982,
(216/250 and 229/250). 6 x 9 in (15 x 23 cm). Author's Collection.

The Print Market

Mita Arts Gallery (ukiyo-e), the Tolman Collection, and Katō and Yōseidō
Galleries have chests of treasures to show. Thousands of active artists make
prints and Japan may well be the print capital of the world, and Kanda may be its
epicenter.
Prints are highly accessible to outsiders, unlike sculpture or painting. There
is a whole infrastructure of books and the annual exhibition organized by the
College Women's Association of Japan (a volunteer, inter-nationality group for
women started by Statler). Each autumn they display for sale about 250 works,
organize speeches and workshops by experts, and provide an attractive, low-
cost, high-quality catalogue-a wonderful way of getting to know hundreds of
artists and getting a feel for the print world.
To place orders for catalogues (but of course not the prints themselves), you
can contact the CWAS Center, 2-24-13-1202 Kami-Osaki, Shinagawa-ku,
Tokyo 141-0021 (which is near the JR Meguro Station). Telephone: 03-3491-
2091; Fax: 03-3491-2092; Website: www.cwaj.org.
When I gave the opinion that modern works are not overpriced, a
professional colleague disagreed, but I still do believe that modern print
collecting is "doable" and open to new outsiders, and prices are in line with those
in the country generally.
One thing that is striking is the fixed price anywhere in the country (though
occasionally a gallery may be willing to reduce the price of the frame, just to be
nice to you). An artist decides the price in consultation with his main outlet(s)
and his conscience, and in line with the number of prints made of the image and,
of course, his "salability."
That price holds until the edition is sold out, after which the price varies
from gallery to gallery. It is common for the price to rise when the artist dies (if
he is popular) and to gradually drop if not, as he gets forgotten. Later he may
come rushing back. Most cities have an area with many stores selling old books
and prints. Tokyo's is in Kanda(Jimbo-chō. There you can find favorites as well
as complete unknowns.
Some collectors who fall for an artist are in the enviable position of placing a
standing order for one print from each edition, sometimes even insisting on a
certain number like the second print (for example, 2/75), but most of us buy
what we see.
Fig. 115 Shinoda Tōkō,"Soliloquies," lithograph/sumi, ed. 38, 2000,28 x 20 in (71 x 50 cm). Photo
courtesy Tolman Collection.
Fig. 116 Wakō Shūji (1953-)."Fuji, Letter, Seas," lithograph, ed. 45, 1998, 25 x 18 in (63 x 46 cm).
Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.

Plowing a Furrow
A common approach for a print artist is to take a theme and find some aspect
within it that appeals to him and which he exploits over the years, deepening it
and making the theme his or her own (as long as it appeals to buyers, of course).
If I was not afraid that a marketing man might be listening, I might even whisper
that this theme becomes their trademark. A corner of my heart nudges me with
the feeling that the artists may be missing something by narrowing his/her scope
in this way but the results are great, so....
The following alphabetical list of postwar print artists is meant as a readers'
guide. It contains only printmakers whose work I admire. Some have moved on,
but you still may encounter their work. Most are still alive.

Akiyama Iwao: owls, mules, or angels

Ay-ō (Iijima Takao): glossy rainbows Azechi Umetarō: woodblocks of folkcraft
figures or volcanoes Enokidō Maki: spiraling gloriosa flowers Funasaka
Yoshisuke: knobbly sticks against plain grounds Hamanishi Katsunori: rope
joined to trees or bars Hara Takeshi: squiggles in vibrant colors; interior
decorators' patron saint Hasegawa Yūichi: lush abstracts on thick stencil
paper Hiratsuka Yūji: wicked pastel faces Idō Masao: tourist buildings and
sites Itō Takumi: Tohoku folk dance woodblocks Iwami Reika: wood grain
shapes with plain colors Kawada Kan: colorful landscapes or buildings in red
and green Daniel Kelly: lanterns, fish in dynamic settings Kitaoka Fumio:
walls, flagstones, or roofs
Kuroda Shigeki: cyclists with umbrellas
Kurosaki Akira: unfathomable polychrome abstracts, sometimes cheerful and
others plain Maki Haku: tea bowls, spots, or bands on a black ground
Minami Keiko: green fairy stories
Mori Yoshitoshi: amusing downtown kabuki scenes/people Nakayama Tadashi:
refined horses in gold and green Nakazawa Shin'ichi: black and gold
abstracts Oda Mayumi: goddesses and underwater scenes; lives in California
Sawada Tetsurō: multilinear horizons in silkscreen Sugiura Kazutoshi: gold-
backed irises, peonies or chrysanthemums Takahashi Hiromitsu: kabuki
kappazuri gayer than Mori Yoshitoshi's and more affordable Tanaka
Ryōhei: careful etchings of rural buildings or flowers Wakō Shūji: brightly
colored old motifs arranged in new ways on black ground Watanabe Sadao:
Christian themes in primitif shapes and colors Brian Williams: rural
buildings, especially thatched roof farmhouses Shinoda Tōkō, who turned 90
in 2003, is many people's favorite printmaker; she is also popular in the
Imperial Palace. She started as a calligrapher and you see this in her work,
with its strong blacks in abstract shapes, more recently relieved by an
occasional streak of color, often red. A colleague believes she is overpraised
but her cool pictures obviously appeal to many.
If I had to choose three favorite postwar artists, I would include the
aforementioned Saitō Kiyoshi. Secondly, Mori Yoshitoshi, because I sense
humor in every work he did, however serious the subject, and his designs,
mainly portraying older subjects, have un je ne sais quoi. Third would be
American/Finnish architectural historian Clifton Karhu who has lived in Kyoto
and later Kanazawa for decades. A confirmed Japanophile, he wears kimono,
and single handedly keeps alive the old Japan of wooden houses and shōji. What
he does with color combinations and strong lines makes the heart leap and the
eye dance!

Foreign Artists
A very interesting phenomenon in the 1880s was the appearance of
cartoonist/artists such as Frenchman Georges Bigot and Briton Charles
Wirgman, and in the 1920s Paul Jacoulet, and Americans Helen Hyde and
Elizabeth Keith, who adapted aspects of the Japanese print tradition and used it
to treat new themes.
This cross-fertilization has continued into recent times. The following artists
are among those who have been or are active and appreciated: Suezan Aikins
and Karyn Young of Canada; Sarah Brayer, Owen Hunt, Margaret Johnson,
Clifton Karhu, Daniel Kelly, Peter Miller, Joshua Rome, and Joel Stewart, all of
the US; Brian Williams of Peru or the US; Fang Zhen Ning of China, and Liao
Shiou-ping of Taiwan.
Clearly these artists are not passport Japanese (indeed not all do prints, some
preferring watercolor or other media) but they have put down roots in Japan, and
while learning something of the techniques and ways of working here have also
given something valuable back. Some, like Daniel Kelly, split their time between
New York and Kyoto, thus cross-fertilizing both worlds. Something in the air of
Japan provokes visual and other artists to react creatively, particularly Kyoto,
where a number of these artists live(d), thus creating a collegiate creative
atmosphere. This also makes it easier to find studio space, locate printing
equipment, share ideas and information, and pick up new skills.
Fig.117 Clifton Karhu,"Spring Lanterns," woodblock print, 17/50, 1996, 12 x 18 in (30 x 46 cm).
Private Collection.
Fig. 118 Clifton Karhu (1927-),"Funairichō IV," woodblock, ed. 50, 2002, 20 x 10in (50 x 25 cm).
Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.

Fig. 119 Brian Williams (1950-),"First Snow," woodblock print, 74/ 100, 1989, 18 x 28 in (46 x 71
cm). Author's Collection.

Fig. 120 Sugiura Kazutoshi (1938-), "Han a Shōbu #147" (irises), silkscreen/ gold leaf. Photo
courtesy Tolman Collection.
Fig.121 Tanaka Ryōhei (1933-),"Waki Sandō," etching, ed. 100, 2002, 14 x 11 in (35 x 28 cm).
Photo courtesy Tolman Collection.

Displaying and Storing Prints

With the ravages of time, few ukiyo-e have survived perfectly intact. However,
these images of long ago encapsulate an enchanted world, a world that remains a
hometown for the romantic or exotic traveler. Prints are a perfect thing to collect
as they take up no space if in a folder but can also be spread out to decorate a
room and lend the enchantment of Japonism.
A print collection becomes a starting point for knowledge. If you own a
Kuniyoshi or a Saitō Kiyoshi, you will want to find more about the artists'
background and learn-from books and catalogues-what makes them tick.
This is why a collection is a living thing in you. When Patricia Salmon
started collecting pictures by Taishō artists in the 1980s, she had no idea she was
sowing knowledge of this period in the West and forming the kernel of a unique
collection now in the Honolulu Academy of Arts-but that is what happened!
Visitors to Hawaii can see the style of moga (modern girls) in the 1920s, and
glimpse an exotic half-Japanese, half-Western world.
At the same time, collecting involves responsibility. The condition of a print,
old or new, determines its value. A collector is a temporary custodian so should
look after it. Here are some care guidelines:

Keep prints flat and never trim them.

Use 100 percent acid-free rag mat board in framing. The acids in other papers,
cheap matting, and cardboard may turn prints brown and brittle, as will
masking or transparent tape.
Never mount a print directly against glass, as moisture can accumulate and
cause damage. A mat lets air circulate.
Never dry mount or wet mount a print.
Never glue or tape a print to a backing without the advice of a competent
restorer.
Never display a print in direct sunlight, or spotlight it directly, as this causes
fading.
Store unframed prints in acid-free mats or folders, or acid-free Mylar
Protectors.
Handle prints as little as possible as the oils in your fingers can be harmful. (At
the Tolman Collection in Tokyo, customers are actively dissuaded from
touching prints at all.) Ask a framer questions to see if he is skilled: if not,
or (s)he is evasive, go elsewhere.

Genuineness
The maxims in the last chapter are still paramount. Since it has been very easy to
reprint popular ukiyo-e, it is important to ensure that the paper feels right. The
paper of the era and that used for later reprints is different. You may buy a
genuine (made from the same woodblock) print but the work may come out 160
years later.
I have bought by mail from a "respectable" dealer work that turned out to be
wrong when checking it later with a more knowledgeable professional in Japan.
I was so disgusted and it was so long after the original purchase (a decade or
two) that I could not ask the seller to take it back, so I just sent it off to be
auctioned. The experience soured me and put an indefinite hold on collecting
ukiyo-e unless with a firm guarantee of genuineness from an established firm or
auctioneer. Learn from my bad experience!
SAGEMONO
Sagemono is a catch-all word for the things (mono) which hang
(sageru) from the wide belt that kept a kimono fastened. Sagemono
were necessary as kimono have no pockets for things like a pipe and
tobacco, or a writing brush. However, there was also a considerable
element of fashion attached to using them, much like brand name
handbags today.
The main danglers from the obi or belt are netsuke, inrō, ojime, obi
clasps, pipe cases, tobacco pouches, yatate, and dummy swords. All
will be described in detail after a look at the history, myths, legendary
beings, animals (real and imaginary), and the whole paraphernalia of
Japanese culture which suffuses obi danglers (and many other items in
this book).
Sagemono have appealed to Westerners since they first
encountered them. Exoticism is one appeal (they do not exist in this
form elsewhere), but more important is the incredible variety and
ingenuity expended on making items to attract clients who were
otherwise subject to interminable rules about what they could do or
wear: accessories were a way of expressing individuality-without
getting into trouble.
Fig. 122 Netsuke, ivory, of Ryūjin's attendant (with octopus cap!) holding a pearl treasure, anon.,
18th c., 4 1/4 in (11 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Early Historical Records

Like many old things in Japan, sagemono have been little documented. Most
were in use by the end of the sixteenth century, while the brush holder and inrō
probably date earlier, from the twelfth and fourteenth centuries respectively. The
earliest extant and datable sagemono was found in the 1636 tomb of Date
Masamune (lord of Sendai), so the sagemono was made before that. According
to Arakawa Hirokazu, former head curator of the Tokyo National Museum, the
Mezamashigusa colophon of 1625 clearly refers to "a hanging inrō with nashiji
decoration."
He notes too that the 1686 Yōshūfushi gazette "lists inrō as one of the craft
products of Kyoto, indicating that there was widespread demand for them and
suggesting perhaps that they were produced by specialists." He adds, "The Jinrin
Kinmo zui (1690) records that inrōshi (inrō makers) were to be found in several
different places and illustrates a lacquer-decorated inrō."
Our first detailed source is Sōken Kishō, published in 1781 by an Osaka
sword dealer, Inaba Michitatsu (also read Tsūryū). It listed fifty-seven famous
netsuke carvers and thirty-seven inrō makers then living (adding that there had to
be hundreds more). It divided the netsukes hi (netsuke carvers) into schools
based on geography; so there was an understanding even then that this was work
of high quality. The book lists nineteen inrōshi in Edo, seven in Kyoto, six in
Kanazawa, and three in Osaka, whereas this city had by far the most netsukeshi.
Unfortunately, this was the only book to appear until Westerners started
collecting and writing in the late nineteenth century, so our knowledge of earlier
times is limited.
Ueda Reikichi, the first modern Japanese sagemono theorist, suggested in
The Netsuke Handbook, that the Japanese have been blessed with nimble fingers
and their crafts are characterized by exceptional delicacy, precision, and
exquisiteness. In his opinion, netsuke were an excellent example of the
craftsman's natural gifts as they were made by free people in the sense that they
were not working to the orders of a patron (unlike many painters, for example),
so had to please only themselves or ordinary customers. Robert Fleischel of
Sagemonoya counters that many danglers were commissioned, for example by
daimyō, so freer but exceptions!
Considerable knowledge of mythology and Japanese literature was a must
for artists and clients-and for collectors now. This gives the pieces a depth that
adds to the pleasure we feel in owning or admiring them-and sometimes a thrill
of discovery.
Fig. 123 Netsuke, wood, of Han'nya (female demon) mask with protruding tongue, anon., 18th c.,
2 1/2 in (6 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Typical Japanese Subjects

As miniature sculptures, obi danglers may depict anything, but the subjects tend
to fall into particular groups, such as animals, historical figures, and masks,
which may break down into more specific subgroups. (Much of the information
in the following section applies to all other Japanese arts.) Zodiac Animals
Orientals pattern the years into cycles of twelve represented by the animals of
the Zodiac-the rat, ox, tiger, hare, dragon, snake, horse, goat, monkey, cock, dog,
and wild boar-who rushed to Buddha's side on hearing he was dying (but not, of
course, the cat which lingered in its own sweet way). These, in turn, come in five
more cycles (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water), making a sexagesimal system.
Living through five cycles of twelve years is equivalent to the biblical "three
score years and ten" for man's life span. Reaching sixty (kanreki) merits a big
party and dressing in baby red.
Fig. 124 Netsuke, ivory, of half-woman half-bird (karyōbinga), signed lkko, 18th c., 2 in (5 cm).
Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 125 Netsuke, wood, of Kiyohime and Dōjōji bell, signed Minkō, 18th c., 2 in (5 cm). Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 126 Netsuke, wood, of crying Raiden (god of thunder who made thunderclaps with his drum,
now broken), anon., late 18th c., 2 in (5 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Each year is said to be the year of a particular animal. For example, 2002
was the year of the horse; 2003 the year of the sheep/ goat/ram (in the netsuke
world, goats replace sheep or rams, as there were no sheep in Japan); 2004 the
year of the monkey, 2005 the year of the cockerel, 2006 the year of the dog,
2007 the year of the wild boar, and so on, in the order given above.
People born in a particular year feel an affinity for their animal figure and
might well buy or even collect the figure, or give it to a friend or relative. Each
year the symbol changes, so if people want to be trendy, they can wear a
netsuke suiting that year-especially if the previous year has been inauspicious.
Many real animals have associations unknown to Westerners. Instead of
being a pest, the sparrow symbolizes kindness. The fox can change into a
woman or priest, and also symbolizes Inari (the harvest god and a very common
shrine name). The badger/raccoon dog (tanuki) is said to have a large scrotum
with which it suffocates attackers; it also has huge gonads and carries a saké
bottle and accounts book, so symbolizes some men's dreams of being rich, sexy,
and high (Fig. 136). Tanuki are linked with Shigaraki.
Tradition groups the san sukumi (slug/snail, snake and frog intertwined and
attacking each other, but unable to better the other two) and the three monkeys-
one who hears no evil (ears stopped), one who sees no evil (eyes covered), and a
third who speaks no evil (mouth covered). These critters are alive and well-in
politics (only in Japan?): note that they do not claim to "do no evil," otherwise
their game would be up!

Ordinary and Mythical Animals

Many ordinary animals, with no special associations, for example squirrels, cats,
dogs (Fig. 134), deer, wolves, tigers, boar; cicadas, wasps; frogs, toads, hawks,
falcons, quail, pheasants, cockerels; carp, sea bream, and shellfish populate
netsuke fields and seas.
Mythical animals abound too: the Oriental phoenix (hō-ō); the dragon (ryū),
originally symbolizing the Chinese emperor; a horned, flamed, scaled animal
(kirin), translated as a giraffe (see the eponymous beer bottle); a nightmare
eater with an elephantine trunk (baku) (Fig. 137 right); an airborne incubus with
many borrowed attributes (nue); a human being with a screwed-up face and
lopsided eyes who spits out salt (hyottoko); a lion-dog (shishi; those
festooned with flowers are hanajishi); a long-nosed goblin (tengu); a crow-
shaped goblin (karasu tengu) often seen emerging from an egg; a water sprite
(kappa); a mythical dolphin (shachihoko). Ghosts (bakemono), both male
and female, are also common, as are demons with horns on their heads (ani);
these are sometimes unremittingly evil but are often just figures of fun (Fig.
137left). Koma'inu are Korean guardian dogs.

Seven Lucky Gods

The Seven Lucky Gods (Shichi-fuku -jin) include laughing bigbellied Hotei
surrounded by children; high-browed Fukurokuju with a crane, deer, or tortoise;
Daikoku on rice bales with a rat and the mallet of success; Ebisu with a rod and
sea bream; fierce-faced and armored Bishamon; wish-fulfiller Benten (the only
female, carrying a lute), and clever Jurōjin with a deer. Other figures linked with
religion are Seiōbo ("queen mother of the west," often carrying peaches, page 4);
disciples of Buddha (rakan); angels (ten'nin); Niō, a temple guardian; Raijin, god
of thunder (Raiden represents thunder and lightning, Fig. 126); Daruma, the
great priest and founder of Zen; Ryūjin, dragon king of the sea (Fig. 122); and
Bodhisattva Fugen riding on a white elephant to the right of Buddha.

Legendary and Famous Beings

These include ascetics or mountain hermits (sen'nin)-a toad always accompanies
Gama Sen'nin; Ii no Hayata, who slew a nue; the military strategist Kwan-yu
(d.219); the fierce-faced demon queller Shōki, often shouldering oni in a bag
(Fig. 143); the strong youth Kintarō and his mothering Yama Uba; Tenaga, with
very long arms but short legs, and Ashinaga, the opposite, so he often carries
Tenaga whose arms almost reach the ground, Fig. 175); Kanzan and Jittoku, a
pair of Zen jesters carrying a scroll and broom; Okame, also known as Otafuku
or Uzume, a fulsome, rosy-cheeked girl, plain but sexy; mermaids; Ono no
Komachi, a ninth-century poet and a beauty when young, but also tragic in
unloved hag age; the brigand Tokubei; a half-woman half-bird (karyōbinga)
(Fig. 124); the strong man Benkei (d. 1189) and his lord Yoshitsune (1159-89),
Japan's great tragic hero (they are often depicted fighting on Kyoto's Gojō
Bridge); the disciple Handaka Sonja and his accompanying dragon (Figs. 141,
168); the calligrapher Ono no Tōfū (894-966) being encouraged by a frog to
persevere (like Scotland's King Bruce by a spider); Kiyohime, who burnt the
Dōjōji bell with her man inside, the poor chaste priest Anchin who had tried to
escape her lecherous clutches (Fig. 125); shōjō, bibulous red-faced apes who
dance on the shore or clamber out of saké vats, and nameless monsters (for
example, those in the tongue-cut sparrow story).

Non-Japanese
Dutchmen, Portuguese, Koreans, Chinese, including Chinese boys (karako) (Fig.
144), Mongolians (especially archers), Malays, and Pacific Islanders are
common motifs.

Occupations
Various occupations are also the subject of sagernono, including blind masseurs
(amma); female divers (ama); fishermen; lumber-jacks; tea pickers; dancers
(bugaku, o-bon, gigaku, and lion dancers); comedians (rnanzaishi); sumō
wrestlers; monkey trainers (saru mawashi), aristocrats, warriors, and priests.
Many carvers formerly made masks, sword furniture, and religious sculpture,
so naturally netsuke reflect these interests: Nō dancers like Okina, a good old
man; Buaku, an evil man; Han'nya, an angry female demon (Fig. 123); Kentoku,
a mask in Kyogen; Gedō, a heretic; Tengu's long nose; sword fittings (tsuba,
kozuka, menuki, fuchigashira), and the deities above.
 Japanese used to be close to the land and its fruits and bugs (Figs. 145, 167,
185), so we see plenty of these (the netsuke carver Sangetsu loved to show
wasps nibbling on a rotten nashi pear), as well as the fruit of the sea, such as
fish, shellfish, eels, and snails.
The (in)activities of daily life appear in the kendō mask, teapot, tea picker,
and skeleton. Functional sagemono include a sundial! compass, magnifying
glass, box, carpenter's plane, and ashtray. Others are the abacus (soroban), clock
(Fig. 140), pincers (Fig. 132), farming basket, and gambling game counter (Fig.
139 right).

The Fascination of Sagemono

When the great Raymond Bushell became entranced by netsuke after World War
II, very few in Japan or the West knew about their great richness. Thanks to him
and to other collectors like William Winkworth, Mark Hindson, and Charles
Greenfield, scholars like Melvin and Betty Jahss, George Lazarnick, and Ted
Wrangham, dealers Giuseppe Eskenazi, Sydney Moss, and Douglas Wright,
auctioneer/author Neil Davey, and the British, Victoria and Albert, Boston, and
Los Angeles County Museums, we know a lot more, so can appreciate the real
worth of obi danglers.
The artists were imaginative in the way they composed single figures,
complicated groupings, and landscapes, combining motifs and adding matching
yet contrasting colors. Just like sculptors, they planned three-dimensional
designs which continued round the sides. In all, there are six aspects to netsuke-
top, bottom, front, back, and two sides-and in some cases more, when artists
carved objects inside a netsuke or added a sheath to an inrō and hence created a
whole new structure. Many technical points had to be considered, such as
ensuring a good balance and adequate sturdiness, eliminating any protruding
points that would catch and tear kimono, and concealing the cord holes.
Other proofs of skill include the incredible precision that inrō and pipe case
makers achieved in fashioning the cases and sheaths to fit into each other or in
aligning the cord tunnels; the ingenuous placement of the cord holes in netsuke;
the clever choice of "found objects" to form part or all of tobacco pouches and
ojime (Fig. 182); the way in which sword guards/helmets are fitted into
sagemono; the addition of compasses to writing instruments, and the
combination of work by different professions: some inrō unite wood-turning and
carving, lacquering, maki-e painting, and metal inlays in one harmonious whole.
This needed teamwork of a high order.
 We see ingenuity also in the way that eroticism was added to danglers in
ways that only the sophisticated would appreciate, or in the disguises given: a
bifurcating daikon root vegetable (woman's legs); a brush holder in the shape of
a pistol, a snow-covered farmhouse opening to reveal a kimono-dressed, fan-
clutching sparrow in mid-dance-all that in a 1 1/2 inch (4 cm) netsuke!
The artists' reach and depth are shown by their use of mitate (associative
reference or comparison), which is often playful or ironic. Examples include
turning a typical gay-faced Okame into the Bodhisattva Fugen, or a demon
laughingly acting as a priest chanting his prayers and fingering a rosary (Fig.
188). Another side of mitate is the intellectual linking of current events with the
past. Framing something in the distant past that was relevant to today and an
implicit criticism-and would be understood by those in the know-was one way of
avoiding trouble with the government.
Fig. 127 Netsuke, ivory, of Kwan-yu, unsigned, ca.1700,5 1/2 in (14 cm).Kwanyu was deified in
1591 as the god of war. He is usually shown with a long beard and carrying a halberd. Photo
courtesy Joe Kurstin.
Fig. 128 Netsuke, ivory, of Seiōbo ("queen mother of the west"), unsigned, ca. 1700,5 in (13 cm).
Seiōbo is carrying a branch bearing peaches of immortality. Photo courtesy Joe Kurstin.
Fig. 129 Netsuke, wood, of Tekkai Sennin, unsigned, ca. 1700, 6 1/4 in (16 cm). Tekkai Sennin
released spiritual essence from his body, but his spirit, on returning, could only find a lame
beggar's body to enter, He is usually shown as a beggar with an iron staff, blowing his soul up to
the heavens. Photo courtesy Joe Kurstin.
Fig. 130 Netsuke, wood with inlaid ivory and horn eyes, of Karu, signed Minkoku, 18th c., 5 1/2 in
(14 cm). Unlike Gam a Sen'nin's austere face, Karu has a yellow toad on his head but embodies a
happy life after death (old Shintō deity?). Photo courtesy Joe Kurstin.
Fig. 131 a, b Netsuke cabinet (opened below), signed Shibayama, and seal, signed Masayos hi (12 x 9
1/2 x 8 in (30 x 24 x 20 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Many well-made sagemono have lasted for centuries despite fires,

earthquakes, and misuse. Cheap danglers were also made from inferior materials
but they would have worn out naturally due to daily bumps and friction. Most of
the items collected today were made by artists with superb materials: ivory,
lacquer, gold, silver, coral, precious inlays, Indian textiles, cherry, persimmon,
ebony and boxwood, amber, horn, and crystal.
The pride that artists/ owners felt in their work is visible in these valuable
materials and in the large number of signatures on sagemono (sometimes two on
lacquer and metal inrō). Artists might not sign pieces commissioned by daimyō
or the shōgun (whose status was so much higher), so the lack of one is by no
means proof of inferiority. Signatures (for example, that of Tomotada) were
often added later and may cause doubts about dating and authenticity. Willi
Bosshard noted wholesale falsification in Kyoto ca. 1970.

Netsuke
Netsuke were little toggles connected by a cord through small holes in sagemono
to counterbalance them. The netsuke stayed above the obi while the cord slipped
down inside and behind it, to hold in place an inrō or pouch below. The earliest
sagemono appear on Kamakura era (1185-1333) hand scrolls but this was
probably a fad only for the court. Yet it spread, and we can say that common use
of netsuke and inrō dates back at least four centuries. At first, they were rather
simple items but soon they became more and more decorative and refined.
The golden era of sagemono was the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
Netsuke were not cheap: Sekido Kengo (Netsuke Kenkyū Bulletin, 25) says that
in the eighteenth century one particular netsuke sold for the price of a house!
Ivory was always dear.
The promotion of Western dress (with its trouser pockets) rang the knell of
sagemono, as there was no longer any need for an obi from which to hang
things. Netsuke were discarded by the tens of thousands between 1870 and 1900
and were often bought by Westerners. Thus a great many went overseas to form
the basis of museum collections and scholarship. Netsukeshi started making less
refined works for tourists. Some continued the good old ways for the remaining
connoisseurs and collectors at home and abroad, or developed new directions
like the Sō school.

Fig. 132 Netsuke, ivory, of demon (om) with large pincers, signed Basetsu Sanjin, 19th c., 2 in (5 cm).
Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 133 Netsuke, ivory, of ox, signed Tomotada, 18th c., 2 1/4 in (6 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

Fig. 134 Netsuke, lacquer, of dog, signed Zeshin,late 19th c., 1114 in (3 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

The International Netsuke Society has some 600 members, with chapters in
the US, Europe, and Japan. Lectures are given and new members learn the
intricacies of these fascinating little toggles. For years the purists who say that
only old netsuke are real have skirmished with those who collect netsuke for
their beauty and so support some of the very skillful modern netsukeshi in
Australia, Europe, Japan, and the US. One controversial piece, by Clive Hallam,
shows a snail on a Coca Cola can (poor snail-will it survive the citric and
phosphoric acids?), thus modernizing the traditional motif of a snail on a well
bucket (Fig. 135).
Netsuke range from 1 inch (2 cm) to 4 inches (10 cm) in length, although
they occasionally reached 6 inches (15 cm) in the eighteenth century. They are
primarily made of ivory or wood, especially boxwood, but also of stag antler,
marine ivory (like narwhal horn), corozo nuts, seashells, glass, and a number of
other substances. They have two little holes (himotōshi) in the back or elsewhere
if the carver can so arrange the design so that cord can tie the toggle to the inrō
and ojime. This last widget moves up and down the cord to hold closed or open
purses, tobacco pouches, and inrō.

Fig. 135 Netsuke, wood, of snail on bucket, signed Shigemasa, 19th c., 11n in (4 cm). Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 136 Netsuke, wood, of belly-drumming badger/raccoon dog (tanukt), signed Shūkō, 19th c., 1
1/2 in (4 cm). Ex-Brian Childers Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 137 Left: Netsuke, stag antler, of ghost (bakemono) with protruding tongue and holding
umbrella, anon., 19th c., 2 3/4 in (7 cm). Right: Netsuke, stag antler, of baying nightmare eater
(baku), anon., 17th c., 4 in (10 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Another requirement is a smooth exterior: the netsuke brushed against the

wearer's clothes, so jagged points would catch. Earlier, and sometimes later, one
himotōshi hole was larger than the other; the knot on the cord could not fit
through the smaller one, so was anchored. Netsuke were carved all over Japan
but tend to fall into different schools, with distinctive materials. In the cities,
men had more money and preferred ivory; elsewhere wood was commoner.
Forms of Netsuke
Most netsuke were short and compact although variations included a thin,
elongated type known as sashi netsuke, which was tucked into the obi instead of
hanging above it, and obihasami netsuke, which clipped onto the top and bottom
of an obi. Other kinds of netsuke included masks (Fig. 123), ryūsa (pierced,
often round netsuke named after the inventor) (Fig. 180), and manjū (round,
bun-like netsuke). According to Lawrence Smith, the earliest specially made
netsuke were flattish disks, now called manjū netsuke; and kagamibuta, which
were round, often with a metal lid (Fig. 181).
Quite a few netsuke are termed shunga netsuke, which means they are erotic,
but in ways that may or may not be obvious. For example, a lid decorated with a
mask may be taken off a box to reveal a naked couple; a female Daruma may
sound cute but was linked with the tradition of the great Zen teacher
experiencing "seven falls but eight arisings:' in turn recalling that a whore often
went down but also got up; a woman may lick sticky tororo grated yam juice-
which has sexual connotations. A simple, longer, rounded sculpture may have
been designed to suggest alternative uses. Sometimes prurience or the desire to
amuse were the aim, but often a desire for children and the happiness they bring
was decisive, or the pleasure of wearing something that might catch people's
eyes, like a loud tie, deep décolleté, or Prada logo.

Netsuke Schools and Artists

In 1600, Osaka was the biggest city in Japan (and the world?), but gradually was
overtaken by Edo, the warrior capital, which attracted businessmen and artisans
from all over the country. Yet even in 1781, the Sōken Kishō records many
netsuke carvers as being from Osaka. Yoshimura Shtizan, said to be the most
famous, never signed his work, so we cannot appraise it. Other artists mentioned
are Tsuji, Garaku, lnsai, Sankō, Higo, Kajun, and Sōshichi, and several who
presumably did not sign their netsuke as none have been found. Later Osaka
artists include Hidemasa, Shigemasa, and Kaigyokusai (1813-92); the latter may
have been the greatest ever. Ivory was the favored material for all and the latter
always used the finest cuts.
Fig. 138 Netsuke, ivory, of rat, fern, and scoop, anon., Kyoto, 18th c., 2 3/4 in (7 cm). Ex-Monzino
Collection. Author's Collection.

Only 35 miles (55 km) from Osaka, Kyoto had many famous netsukeshi
whose works are known today: Masanao, Tomotada, Yoshinaga Mitsuharu,
Okatomo, Seibei, Tomotane, Hōshin, and Yoritake, the first two being the most
famous, mainly for their animal pieces (Fig. 133). Okatori, Kagetoshi, and
Rantei (given the honorary title of Hōgen) were later prominent Kyoto
netsukeshi. Ivory was the favored material, though wood was used latterly.
Edo (Tokyo) had many groups and schools, such as the Deme mask
sculpting family, of which Jōman was perhaps the most famous; Miwa (many
artists from the eighteenth century on), often depicting human figures; Shūgetsu,
from the eighteenth century on; Genryōsai Minkoku I and II (late eighteenth to
early nineteenth century); Hōgen Rakumin and many carvers with "min" in their
names; Ryūkōsai Jugyoku (nineteenth century); the Tomochika, Hōjitsu,
Tōkoku, and Shibayama schools; Kokusai and his Asakusa school, and the late
nineteenth-and twentieth-century Sō school.
Nagoya was home to mainly cherrywood and boxwood carvers such as
Tametaka and Tadatoshi (eighteenth century); Hōgen Tadayoshi; Ittan; the priest
Ikkan; Satō Masayoshi; Hōgen Masanobu, and Bazan. Nearby Tsu is best known
for (Tanaka) Minkō (1735-1816) (Fig. 125) and his pupil Kokei. At Yamada,
Masanao (several men spanning the nineteenth century), Masakatsu, and
Harumitsu stand out. In Gifu, Kanō Tomokazu started a small school. Suketomo
founded the Hida Takayama school but later Sukenaga surpassed his teacher
(most others have "suke" names). The artists and schools mentioned here are not
located so far from each other and it is likely they influenced each other; their
netsuke are mostly of wood.

Fig. 139 Left: Game counter(?), ivory, anon., 19th c., 3 in (8 cm). Right: Netsuke, bone, of boot
with foreign face, ca. 1700, 1 1/2 in (4 cm). Ex-Blackwell Collection. Author's Collection.

Tamba is 125 miles (200 km) to the west and inland, so was probably open
to less outside influence though the system of daimyō and their retinue being
forced to spend time in Edo meant that ideas and styles did get spread throughout
the land. This is true of the founder of the Tamba school, Toyomasa, who was
asked by the local daimyō to make some pieces in the Iwami style, about as far
from his own style as one can imagine! Toyomasa's left-handed son was also a
fine carver, signing himself "Hidari Toyomasa;' that is, "Lefty." These carvers
used mostly wood.
Iwami (modern Shimane Prefecture) is another 155 miles (250 km) west and
on the northern seaboard, so cut off from big cities and their traditions; its
carvers used materials abundant locally, such as whale tooth, wild boar tusk, and
umimatsu (fossilized marine pine), as well as ivory, boxwood, and ebony.
The Iwami school is famous for long kebori ("hair" -engraved) inscriptions
saying who made a piece for whom and when and where, often accompanying a
wriggling centipede, spider, or crab which does guarantee authorship. Prolific
Seiyōdō Tomiharu (1733-1811) founded the Iwami school; his daughter
Bunshojo is the best-known female carver of Japan; his grandson Gansui carved
too. Mitani Gohō and Kanman are other excellent artists. I have to confess there
is magic in Iwami pieces that I feel nowhere else. Robert Huthart of Hong Kong,
who has a great Iwami collection will, I hope, be in the same part of the
over/underworld so we can talk when we get there!
The Hakata school (Fukuoka, Kyushu) is known for nineteenth-century
Otoman's ivory tigers. Sessai is Echizen's greatest carver, while neighboring
Echigo and Kaga also had carvers. Wakayama, Izumi, and Nara had schools:
Ogasawara Issai of the first has been famous since pre-1781 but signed few
netsuke, while Nanka and Nanyō made map netsuke. At Iwashiro, Sari (late
eighteenth century), Ryūsansai, and Hidari Issan (both early nineteenth century)
all worked in wood.
Many artists in fields like lacquer and metal also tried their hand at netsuke
and left their names, including giants like Ritsuō.
Having mentioned all these carvers, it is wise to remember that a signature
may not be a nugget: it could have been by a student or added later, while some
netsukeshi used different names over the years or borrowed those of their
teachers. Many wonderful pieces are unsigned, so a signature guarantees neither
beauty nor authenticity-and may invite suspicion!

Inrō

In the fourteenth century, the word inrō referred to Chinese storage boxes of
lacquer or brass with drawers that were displayed on shelves (and so were heavy
and not portable). Pictures show leaders wearing inrō at the waist from about
1600, while a Jesuit Japanese-Portuguese dictionary of 1603 confirms that the
word's use and meaning were fixed by the late sixteenth century. These inrō
held the various little seals needed to sign documents (or show the police if they
queried the speed of your palanquin on the Kyoto Autobahn) as well as cinnabar
seal-ink, or, more commonly, pills and powders. They contained several
cases/drawers (sometimes with boxes inside again, and medicine names on the
cases), carved and lacquered to wonderfully exact tolerances.
There is something about good inrō that makes this author go weak at the
knees; the West has nothing remotely like them, nor as beautiful. Good inrō are
inherently expensive: an artisan needs years of training; they take months to
make, and many layers of expensive lacquer, gold and silver flakes, and powder,
ivory, horn, and metal inlays have to be applied using exquisite micro-
technology.
One pleasure of handling inrō is knowing this. Another is their refined,
restrained elegance, and a third is the fact that inrōshi were artists whose
technical brilliance turned tours de force of the imagination into tiny, concrete
works of art-seeing the world in "a grain of sand," as William Blake said.
Though small, many inrō incorporate skills from the wider "fine art" world of
painting on screens and scrolls, in line with their creators' imagination.
Some inrō are original designs, others follow famous painters. Heinz and
Else Kress are great inrō collectors, archivists, and researchers who have
photographed most of the world's best museum and private collections for their
inrō database. One of Else's interests is studying the sources of inrō designs, of
which she has found some 1,400, mainly in ehon (picture books). Even in a 1 x
2 inch (2 x 5 cm) space, inrō artists were inspired to form whole landscapes or
dramatic scenes, using their skill at minute detail.
Normally, an inrōshi was commissioned to make an inrō with features and
motifs compatible with a planned netsuke and ojime, or for a certain ceremony
or special effect. Coordinating the patterns was more important than having the
same or matching colors. Metals were sometimes added to the wood/paper and
lacquer base, making a sheath or adding detailing to the design, so a famed
lacquerer and metalworker may both work on inrō, and indeed even a
Shibayama inlayer after the initial frame is made.
A few inrō are still made today at the top end, but mainly for tourists or
pilgrims; my wife and I went to the great Awa Odori dancing festival at
Tokushima, Shikoku, years back and came home with a plastic one to
commemorate it, costing a few dollars. Fakes are rare as making attractive
lacquered pieces is only for the skilled and moneyed artisan. Having said that,
recent high prices have led some backyard studio in Greater China or other
lacquer-using cultures to start the long, arduous task of learning enough from
books and experiments to rival old pieces with works good enough to fool at
least the inexperienced eye. In a way, I hope they will, provided they can make
works that rival the old, introduce new ideas, and sign their own names. That
would expand the universe!
Fig. 140 Case clock inrō, wood, with key, unsigned, 19th c., 3 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

Varieties of Inrō
Many very fine inrō were made with special lacquer techniques such as hira-
maki-e, takamaki-e, and togi-dashi (see Lacquerware), mostly on wooden or
papier mâché frames although pottery, ivory, and carved lacquer bases also
appear. Inlays include shell (aogai), ivory, lacquer, cloisonné enamels, crystal,
pewter, shakudō, shibuichi and sentoku alloys, gold, silver, and other metals.
The shoulders of an inrō may be squarish or rounded. Sometimes the whole
shape may be rotund or completely irregular. (A three-case inrō in a private
California collection is turtle-shaped, with the cord passing under its claws.) An
alternative is a sheath (see Fig. 371, Lacquerware) to protect the inrō, which
often forms yet another surface to beautify. The gaps between the cases may be
visible, but not at first glance, so skilled is the workmanship on the sheath, as
proved too by designs continuing round.
Fig. 141 Two-case inrō showing Handaka Sonja in bowl with dragon on side, signed Jitokusai
Gyokuzan, 19th c. 3 1/4 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 142 Four-case inrō with design of sugar beet (kabura), takamaki-e lacquer and aogai inlays;
ojime shaped like abacus counter, anon, 18th c.,2Jt4 in (7 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 143 Two-case metal inlaid inrō, Shōki and oni (demon) design, signed Ogiyama Masahide,
19th c., 2 in (5 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 144 Four-case inrō with takamaki-e lacquer and inlaid shell design of Chinese boys at play,
signed Sansei-sai Yōkei, 19th c., 3 1/4 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 145 Three-case inrō with butterfly design in hirame lacquer, signed Koma Kōryū, 18th c., 2
3/4 in (7 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

The case interiors are often nashiji (pear skin or aventurine lacquer, with
little dots as on the skin of a pear (nashi), but straight gold leaf, gyōbu (large
irregular gold flakes), and different color lacquer layers were also applied, while
some are carved from thick lacquer in an old Chinese-inspired process (tsuishu
for red, tsuikoku for black lacquer). Roiro is the usual technique for producing a
lustrous black but yami-maki-e (black decoration on a matte black ground) was
used by the Kajikawa and Zeshin schools.
Most inrō were made at family-run workshops in Kyoto or Edo from the
mid-seventeenth century, for example, the Kajikawa, Koma, or Kanshōsai/Tōyō
schools that spanned generations. Sometimes the ateliers split or developed new
techniques and directions. As the same or similar seals were used for a century
or two by, for example, the Kajikawas (the commonest name on outstanding
inrō), dating is hard (except for nineteenth-century Bunryūsai, an outstanding
inrōshi who often signed personally).
The Yōkeis had made many goods other than inrō since their foundation in
the fourteenth century. Tsuishu Yōsei VIII was probably the first inrōshi. The
family specialized in raised carved lacquer (tsuishu, hence the name, while
Yōsei comes from two famous Chinese lacquerers) and often worked in
conjunction with other workshops. The last of the line, Tsuishu Yōsei XX, died
in 1952.
 The Jōkasai line was founded by Yamada Jōkasai and it continued for two
centuries, signing and making magnificent works (often with inlays) until
Tsuneo's death (1879), in affiliation with the Koma school. The Komas did add
their personal signature but this may not be of much help as eleven generations
signed themselves Kyūhaku (the main line) (see page 5)!
Many pieces are also signed Kōryū, an artist who started another line that
produced the outstanding artists Koma Kansai I and II and Zeshin. The former is
the signature used by three artists ca. 1760-1850; their work is unsurpassed and
may be dramatic.

Fig. 146 Gold lacquer and metal inlay five-case inrō, angel and aristocrat design, signed Koma
Kyūhaku and Hamano Kuzui; roiro and gold writing box netsuke and peach ojime in wood and
shell inlay. Author's Collection.
Fig. 147 Two-case roiro lacquer inrō in form of temple bell, pine branches in gold takamaki-e and
kirigane details on concentric circles, interior nashiji, anon., late 18th c., 4 in (10 cm). Author's
Collection.

Shibata Zeshin (1807-91) was amongst the greatest lacquer technicians of all
time. He invented or rediscovered skills like seigaiha (combed waves) and
ishime (textured lacquer) as well as many new colors. As a result of prolonged
contact with painters, poets, and Tea masters in Kyoto, and learning from his
carver father, he was an all-round artist and an extremely skilled painter who
used lacquer, not sumi or natsumi, rock-based or oil paints (Fig. 134). His
designs inspired others in the lacquer community. His scratched signature is on
enough masterpieces to entrance collectors. Taishin, Ryūshin, Shinsai, and
Ryūsai learned from him.
The Somada school of lacquered inrō, which originated in the eighteenth
century at Toyama, specialized in adding iridescent shell inlays combined with
gold and silver foil, perhaps with Chinese inspiration (Fig. 149). Most inrō are
unsigned, although E. A. Wrangham in his Index of Inrō Artists lists a dozen
Somadas.
For most people, the Somada inrō have much in common with the
Shibayama school though the latter used more varied inlays, like wood and
cloisonné, and hardstone like malachite. Wrangham accepts that Ōnogi Senzō, a
farmer at Shibayama, developed the technique around 1775. Early work was
restrained and caused few waves, but as the nineteenth century wore on, the style
grew in numbers, popularity, and gaudiness to the point that it became the
generic word for such work.

Taste and Opinions

Style purists criticize Somada and Shibayama for being "over the top;" although
it is sometimes brash, the technique can work very well. Its increasing popularity
has been blamed on foreigners' tastes. This may not be fair, as the trend had
started slowly in the late eighteenth century, long before foreigners arrived. As
with many other Meiji arts, the customers were changing: the restraint typical of
samurai was being replaced by the tastes of townsmen with less aesthetic
training, different values, and an interest in novelty for its own saké (Fig. 149).
Some artists stand out as giants, like the great Ogawa Haritsu Ritsuō (1662-
1747), a samurai and Renaissance figure of a man. Ritsuō could turn his hand to
anything: martial arts, Tosa style painting, woodblock color prints, metalworking
and wood carving, ceramics, poetry (he studied under Bashō), but above all he
was a lacquer artist infatuated with ink cakes and antiques generally, and able to
simulate them in lacquer. He worked with many shapes, including Pekarik's
"mechanical lantern:'
His lacquer style was admired and named after him. Wrangham says,
"Haritsu maki-e, as it was known in his day, involves considerable use of inlays
of pottery, ivory, hardstone, shell, and wood. The lacquer is often given a matt
finish or texture and is made typically to imitate antiquities such as the
metalwork of the old masters or ancient Chinese ink cakes. Several of the inrō
made with designs of the latter feature tigers, dragons or a combination of both;
one of these is dated 1721. Another type of ink cake inrō, the Greenfield
example made in sheath form, is dated 1716; it may well represent the
introduction of sheath type inrō, though this has not been recorded as one of
Ritsuō's innovations." Many lacquer artists claimed artistic descent from him,
including Koma Kansai I and II and Zeshin; Kenya I (1825-89) dubbed himself
the last pupil!
Shiomi Masanari (1647-1722) was another titan, displaying delicacy and
transparent colors (his "Map of Japan" and "Ladies at Leisure" are
extraordinary). Some wonderfully original pieces, such as the nine-case inrō also
in the Brozman Collection, which has different patterns on each riser and case,
need no signature to be acknowledged as superb. A personal favorite inrōshi is
Jitokusai Gyokuzan (Fig. 141); though not shown here, his depictions of a
"Mouse Wedding" and "Kusunoki Masashige Farewelling His Son" have
imaginative grandeur, as does Ganshosai Shunsui's "Samurai in a Falling House"
-and all in a tiny space.
If a metalworker also signed a piece and his life span is known, this helps
with dating, as do specific techniques and subjects. Widely used signatures or
trade marks are Kōami, Shunshō, and Kakosai. The lines and schools borrowed
ideas and skills, so famous collections may have several similar subjects like
"Rōsei's Dream" or "Raiden and Travellers" by different artists.

Fig. 148 Four-case roiro inrō with fun-dame and iro-e takamaki-e on both sides, standing drum and
bugaku hats, inlaid aogai and kirigane, anon, ca. 1700,3 in (8 cm); matching netsuke of split tree
stump inlaid with beetle and studs, wood, signed Gyokusai, ca. 1700, 1 1/4 in (3 cm); separate
netsuke of puppy on cushion, wood, 18th c. Author's Collection.
Fig. 149 Left: Four-case Somada style roiro lacquer inrō, auspicious crane and pine, minogame
turtle and plum/bamboo, iridescent raden shell inlay, anon., 19th c., 3 1/2 in (9 cm). Also
contemporaneous wooden horse netsuke signed Tomokazu and wooden ojime. Author's
Collection. Right: Two-case Somada style roiro lacquer inrō, cricket on front and morning glory on
back, iridescent raden shell inlay, anon., 19th c.; wooden box netsuke with rabbit in relief and
Somada decoration, and coral ojime, inrō, 2 in (5 cm). Author's Collection.

Fig. 150 Rimpa style gold lacquer three-case inrō. Left: Arrowheads. Right: Oak leaves, raden and
pewter takamaki-e; in both upper case inscribed inside (apocryphally?) Hōkyō Kōrin zō, 19th c.,2 in
(5 cm) and 2 1/4 in (6 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig.151 Ojimeof monkey fighting with crab (saru kani gassen),anon., silver and gold, 19th c., 1/2 in (1.5
cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 152 Ojime of flowers, gold, signedToshi, 19th c., 3/4 in (1.7 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.
Fig. 153 Ojimeof crabs, inlaid copper, signed Toshinaga, 19th c., 3/4 in (1.7 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

Great Edo school leaders worked for daimyō and were often retained by the
shōgun who wore new inrō at official appointments every month, so could
provide extensive work. We know from the Toyokawa records (Daruma 16-17)
that the basic boxes and risers were made in advance and a selection of designs
was drawn up monthly. The piece that was chosen was made by a team of
workers to a very tight deadline (Fig. 144).

Inrō Collectors
It is striking how close to each other the great sagemono collectors have been,
buying and selling from and being inspired by each other. As with netsuke and
other items, there is fierce competition to form a great collection, at the same
time an attempt to maintain friendships and refrain from outbidding somebody
who really wants a piece. However, as Shep Brozman said, "When it came to the
important inrō all bets were off." The usual way to build up a collection is to
acquire a large part of a previous one, so many auctioneers' sales catalogues and
inrō collections bear notes giving the provenance of a well-known piece, for
example, "ex-Jahss Collection" or "ex-Senator S. Collection:' and some may
have been serially in several well-known collections.
To readers who may be surprised by the existence of so many foreign
collectors, it is worth recalling an article by Rita Reif in the New York Times in
1980 about a showing of the collection of Charles Greenfield. "Most of the finest
examples of those wares had been purchased decades ago by collectors in the
West, beginning in the late 19th century. They had no competition since the
Japanese, until recently, had no interest in collecting these vessels.
Consequently, most of what are thought to be the masterpieces of this art form
ended up in European and American hands." Greenfield bought many from
Europe, but also from Japan. However, many great inrō are probably still in
Japan, but hidden from sight.

Ojime
Ojime hold an inrō or other dangler closed, or let it open; the ojime acts as a
brake on the cord passing through its center. Very small ( 1/2-1 inch, 1.5-2 cm),
ojime had colors chosen to set off the bigger inrō and netsuke; pink coral was
commonest (sometimes agate) and a roundish shape. Ojime are collected by
themselves but more collectors prefer sets. Sotheby's auctioned a few ojime
groups in June 2002 and you occasionally see the results of a long-ago collector
who brought together dozens to make an original necklace. Many probably got
lost because of their disappearing tininess when obi use declined; this makes
them ideal for the space conscious!
To show Japanese's catholic taste, I once bought three undistinguished nuts
forming an inrō, ojime, and netsuke. This would likely have belonged to a poorer
man with distinctive taste; they cost me $35. They seem to have been quaked or
gone missing in action.
Common names on ojime are Mitsuhiro and Kagetoshi, but most are
unsigned, irrespective of quality. The technical need to have a passageway
(himotoshi) through the ojime for the cord to pass and their size mean there is
little extra space. The materials and motifs are common to netsuke, including the
odd ceramic, for example, marked Eiraku-a famous Kyoto name.
Fig. 154 Ojimeof kettle on brazier, metal, anon,, 19th c., 3/4 in (1.7 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 155 Ojime of tea ceremony utensils, shibuichi and gold, anon., 19th c., 3/4 in (1.7 cm). Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.

Obi Clasps
Obidome are little clasps on the cords which hold obi in place with the cord
passing through tunnels behind the clasp. They are called obijime by some,
though strictly speaking this refers to the cords that go round the whole obi to
hold the girdle in place. Obidome are the only jewelry worn by women in
kimono, apart from hair accessories like combs, bodkins, and hairpins (kushi,
kōgai, kanzashi). Obi clasps are little collected but the thousands of women who
amass obi and kimono often buy them to match a special piece. They may also
be worn as rings, brooches, or pendants.
Famous netsukeshi Tessai, Kyūsai, and Morita Sōko made obidome, like
metalworkers Natsuo and Yoshihiko. Yoshioka Yoshiko (Kyoto), Ikeda Shigeko
(Tokyo), and Okazaki Chiyo have famous collections. Materials include metal
(for example, silver, shakudō, Fig. 158), lacquer, glass, wood, ivory, jade, coral,
pearls, and jewels. Rougher materials like deer antler or bone were avoided. For
the same reason (though taste had not yet then plumbed "Hello Kitty" level),
cuter subjects were chosen early on, when designs often came from the sword
world: menuki or kozuka became obidome (Fig. 157). Yoshida Yukari,
writing in Daruma 9, says the subjects "are often flowers, vegetables or cute
animals, especially dogs which are considered gods that help ease childbirth. But
of course shunga obidome also exist." Murata Masayuki of San'-nenzaka
Museum says they appeared in 1830-40 but their heyday was the latter
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.

Fig. 156 Obi clasps by Lynn Richardson. Above: Ceramic running hare from myth of hare running
over waves at full moon and getting pregnant, 1999,2 in (5 cm). Below: Pink glory lilies with
auspicious grasshopper, 1999, 2 in (5 cm). Kitty Glanz Collection. Photos courtesy Lynn
Richardson.

Fig. 157 Obi clasp of rat with red pepper, metal, adapted kozuka, 2 1/2 in (6 cm). Ikeda Collection.
Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 158 Obi clasps. Above: Hares, metal, signed Mitsuharu, 1114 in (3 cm). Below: Hobby horse,
metal, signed Yukio, 2 3/4 in (7 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 159 Obi clasp of goldfish, ivory, Shōwa era, 3 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 160 Obi clasp of gourd, sandal-wood with tomobako, signed Morita Sōko, 2 in (5 cm). Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.

Pipes and Pipe Cases

Tobacco came into Japan in the late 1500s with the Iberians. By the eighteenth
century, pipe smoking was popular among both men and women and a critical
social lubricant, especially among geisha, rich merchants, and theater-goers, who
liked to carry pipe and tobacco case sets with them. By the later nineteenth
century, the whole panoply of tobacco equipment reached luxury status among
the status-conscious, with ivory, elegant lacquers, woven materials (the three
most prized), stag horn, and leather being favored materials. Shortly after,
cigarettes took over: a great tradition ended and cigarette gifts from the Emperor
became highly prized.
Japanese pipes (kiseru) are long and slender; 6 inches (15 cm) is common,
but some used mainly by women like geisha may be 12-18 inches (30-46 cm) or
more. Unlike European pipes, Japanese ones had tiny bowls and so were only
good for a few puffs before the tobacco was knocked out into an ashtray. They
are made in three sections. The mouthpiece is of metal and fits into a length of
bamboo to which is attached a metal bowl. Gold pipes were considered best but
the metal is often silver-colored; if really silver, it bears the Japanese characters
jun'gin (pure silver). If four areas (bowl, mouthpiece, and joints with the
bamboo) were of silver, the pipes were yotsugin and highly rated. Attractive
pieces may combine various alloys (like shakudō, shibuichi, sentoku, bronze,
etc.) and silver in different sections, as in Fig. 182.
The shape of a kiseru has given rise to an intriguing word. When a commuter
buys a minimum price ticket from his nearest station and then another cheap
ticket near his destination-without paying for the intervening distance-the
practice is referred to as kiseru: like free bamboo between two costly pieces of
silver!
Kiseruzutsu are pipe cases, with exquisite lacquer, woven work, and carving;
7-10 inches (18-25 cm) long, they were made from ivory, wood (cedar, maple,
box, oak, ebony, rosewood, cherry, black persimmon, ironwood), bamboo, stag
antler, bone, lacquer, fabric, leather-even Bakelite latterly! For carving, bamboo
and stag antler were the most suitable as they were already hollow, whereas
working away at a length of wood was tough and hollowing out precious ivory
was wasteful. Unfortunately, bamboo tends to split with changes in humidity.
Similarly, not many woven cases remain in good condition as the materials-
brocade, split bamboo, rattan, and paper were perishable and wore out. Inlays of
other materials like jade, metal, ivory, tortoiseshell, and coral could be applied to
the cases but rarely to stag antler. Sharp-point engraving (teppitsubori) is used to
write on or decorate cases.
Hasegawa Ikko (fl. 1840-60) split pieces of bamboo and joined them in an
oval shape before adding ivory, mother-of-pearl, and different woods for variety.
Kangetsu added these materials as well as pewter and coral, while Kenya (1825-
89) added his specialty, ceramic. The most common name on pipe cases is
Tessai (1845-1925), a Nara priest, but his better apprentices probably made the
majority of them.
Fig. 161 Senryū-zutsu pipe case in shape of fish, anon., 19th c., 9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

Fig. 162 Very long pipe case (kiseruzutsu), wood, in shape of cock with modulated carving,
anon., early 19th c., 20 in (50 cm). Nicely mottled bamboo held in by silver clasp. Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.
Fig. 163 Large guribori (deeply incised) lacquer pipe case with tonkotsu in shape of female
Daruma, lacquer ojime, anon., 19th c., 10 in (25 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig.164 Musō-zutsu pipe case, stag antler, with carved woven design, anon, 19th c., 8 in (20 cm).
Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 165 Otoshi pipe case, stag antler, with design of hō-ō bird (Oriental phoenix) flying over
peonies, signed Ren (Rensai), late 19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 166 Otoshi pipe case, marine ivory, with design of shishi (imaginary lion-dog), signed
Horiyoshi, 19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 167 Musō-zutsu pipe case, inlaid with persimmon fruit, bamboo, signed Baikoon red tablet,
19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 168 Otoshi pipe case, stag antler, with design of Handaka Sonja and dragon writhing from
utensil in his hand, unsigned, 19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 169 Aikuchi pipe case, bone, with finely carved Chinese townscape with buildings and
people, later signature, 19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Another wonderful case maker is Kokusai (d. 1892) who mainly carved
Buddhist motifs on antler, like the lotus in Fig. 165 and Fig. 173 (Rensai and
Hōshunsai Masayuki are other members of the Asakusa group; all used
arabesques). Shibayama skills were also employed in the later florid style (Fig.
171).

Shapes and Types of Pipe Cases

Tsutsu means a tube and that is the basic shape of the pipe case. To quote the
late Jean Verwilghen, collector and former Belgian Ambassador to Japan, in
Daruma 10: "An otoshi-zutsu is a pipecase shaped like a hollow tube.... The
wari-zutsu has slits on both sides which can be drawn back in order to let the
pipe inside. The senryū-zutsu has a varied amount of openwork and is made so
that the pipe's bowl rests in a hollow which encases its base, while the
mouthpiece goes through a ring which is an integral part of the top of the pipe
case" (Figs. 161, 162).... "The musō-zutsu is made of two separate parts, a sheath
into which one pushes a stopper, both pieces fitting perfectly. A 'popping' sound
caused when air is expelled while opening the case indicates the quality of the
workmanship" (Figs. 163, 164, 167).... "The aikuchi-zutsu takes its name from
the Japanese dagger: only part of the stopper fits into the sheath; the rest has the
same width as the sheath and so cannot enter, like the dagger and its sheath"
(Fig. 169).
A tomo-zutsu has a pipe case and pouch made out of the same material-Figs.
183, 184 show two; the pouch's bamboo is divided in two, which is called me-
oto-dake (male and female bamboo). The darker set has an ironwood case and
paulownia pouch, so strictly speaking is not a tomo-zutsu, but the decoration
links them.
One pipe I love is semi-enveloped in a creeper-type wood grown especially
in a spiral; to insert the pipe you have to twiddle it to fit this spiral pattern.
Senryū-zutsu were worn with the pipe bowl down, so the pipes were gravity held
(Fig. 183 right).

Motifs on Pipe Cases

Like inrō (see above), kiseruzutsu provided a canvas to tackle ambitious art
subjects with flair: a namazu (a fish associated with earthquakes) carries all of
Japan on its back but is kept at bay by a god using a gourd; a demon with a
hammer helps the King of Hades (Emma-ō) tear liars' tongues out; a bulging
fishnet implies the great harvest that feeds Japan. We see the fluctuating world
of yin and yang, a gathering of the 100 poets or a meeting of Confucius,
Sakyamuni, and Lao Tzu, a carved sutra or legends like the despairing
calligrapher Ono no Tōfū and the never-say-die frog, or Tamono-Mae, the nine-
tailed fox wife of a Chinese emperor. A tiger roars at an enemy in bamboo. A
rough horn case is matched by a lacquer-lidded, 5 in (13 cm) whole tortoise
carapace.

Tobacco Pouches and Purses

To smoke, one needed a supply of tobacco. This was kept in a soft pouch made
of leather or fabric (tabako-ire) (Fig. 189) with a beautiful metal clasp, or in hard
wooden, ivory, or lacquered wood containers (tonkotsu) (Figs. 185, 186). On
tattered pouches, some clasps are by real artists, so may still be fine (and
therefore kept).
Fig. 170 Musō-zutsu woman's pipe case, with mandarin ducks (symbolizing marital fidelity) and
iris (erotic implications), signed Kyokyo, 19th c., 7 1/2 in (19 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 171 Musō pipe case, exuberantly inlaid design of persimmon tree, fruit, and birds, signed
Shibayama, 19th c., 9 in (23 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 172 Aikuchi pipe case, ivory, with expert silvery evanescent lacquer wings on dragonfly,
signed Hōetsu, 19th c., 7 in (18 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 173 Senryū-zutsu pipe case, stag antler, with design of lotus, leaf, and pod, signed Kokusai,
late 19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 174 Musō-zutsu pipe case, woven bamboo, with nandin flowers of lacquer and pewter,
mother-of-pearl, and coral inlays, signed Kangetsu, mid-19th c., 8 in (20 cm). Verwilghen
Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 175 Senryū-zutsu pipe case, wood, Ashinaga (left) with long legs and Tenaga (right) with long
arms, signed Seisei-Chiharu Eigetsu, mid-19th c., 7 1/2 in (19 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 176 Otoshi-zutsu pipe case, wood, showing Tamo-no-Mae (fox wife of a Chinese emperor),
signed Ryūi, mid-19th c., 9 1/2 in (24 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 177 Musō-zutsu pipe case, cedar wood, with wisteria (symbolizing May and youth), ceramic
by Kenya, mid-19th c., 7 1/2 in (19 cm). Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 178a, b Above: Pipe case, leather, set with silver clasp in shape of dragon and octopus and
fish on large back plate, signed Kikugawa. To side: Beaten out silver manjū netsuke with dragon
and cloud design, containing imet sundial and compass, anon., 19th c., 5 in (13 cm). Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 179 Pipe case, leather. Tobacco pouch clasp in various metals has abacus, axe, and sword
(blade within). Ryūsa netsuke of Katō Kiyomasa slaying tiger. Dragon and Mt Fuji on pipe. All
anon., 19th c.,S111 in (14 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 180 Hitotsusage of leather and imported Nepalese metalwork, dragon design with matching
metal netsuke, anon., ca. 1800,4 in (10 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 181 Hitotsusage combination pouch of metal, made from two armored gloves, with kagamibuta
netsuke in shape of sword hand guard (tsuba), anon, 18th c., 4 in (10 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.
Fig. 182 Left: Senryū-zutsu pipe case, bone, and burl objet trouvé tonkotsu; lacquer ojime with
circular patterns, 19th c., 3 in (8 cm). Author's Collection. Right: Winding spiral vine-like wood
round pipe case with various alloys; tonkotsu of carved bamboo, paulownia lid with shell inlays of
metal, ca. 1900, 4 1/4 in (11 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 183 Pipe case, split bamboo, and meoto-dake (male and female bamboo) tonkotsu tobacco
pouch, undecorated, anon., 19th c. Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 184 Pipe case, paulownia wood, with moonlit lake and wi ld geese, and ironwood tonkotsu
tobacco pouch with pond motifs, anon., 19th c. Verwilghen Collection. Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.
Fig. 185 Hitotsusage tonkotsu, lacquer, with aogai inlays and decorated with insects, anon., 19th c.,
3 in (8 cm). Lacquer lid with grasshopper. Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 186 Hitotsusage tonkotsu set, natural abalone and shell container, with paulownia lid encrusted
with shells. Shell netsuke in fish shape and coral ojime. All anon, 19th c., 3 1/2 in (9 cm). Photo
courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 187 Double kinkarakawa tobacco pouch; front gold clasp of quail in flowers, back of dragon
and shishi; wooden ashtray netsuke; coral ojime, anon., 19th c., 4 1/4 in (11 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.
Fig. 188 Tonkotsu of seated laughing demon pretending to be priest chanting sutra, beating drum,
holding a donors' list, wearing rosary, shouldering umbrella (typical set in Ōtsu-epictures), boxwood
with ivory, deer antler, and shellfish inlays, anon., early 19th c.,4 in (10 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

The tobacco containers were linked to the pipe case by a chain and, earlier
on, a netsuke was also attached. This proved cumbersome so the netsuke was
dropped and the pipe case was slipped into the belt like a sashi-netsuke. Jeffrey
Klotz has a bamboo tonkotsu made "in summer by Kingai, dated 1924;' so
customs lingered.
The trio of netsuke, ojime, and pouch were a common grouping, the
hitotsusage (Figs. 185, 186), literally "Falling one." Though not as expensive as
netsuke or inrō, some tonkotsu are wonderful, like the drum tonkotsu in
Raymond Bushell's Inrō Handbook (p. 89) of wood with cloisonné inlay, signed
Tōken. The photos on this page indicate the wide variety of shapes and
materials!
Kinchaku (money purses) are rather similar to soft tobacco pouches and are
made of similar materials, though if one is lucky, one may find a gold stud and
ivory clasp. Purses were in constant use so are rarely in good condition, unless
forgotten in a drawer.
Writing Brush Holders (Yatate)
For the warpath, samurai carried an inkstone, inkstick, and brush in their quiver
(yatate, literally "arrow stand"). In the twelfth to thirteenth century, a new yatake
was invented-keeping the old name-with a brush in a tube and ink stored in an
inkpot. A lid held the brush in and kept the wadding-soaked ink from leaking.
There might be a knife for cutting paper or shaping bristles. Yatate were usually
metal (also wood and bamboo) and poked into an obi.
However, that covers only the unibody type. Robert Fleischel in Daruma 3
notes the old fan type, seen in Kamakura era scrolls and inspired by a soldier's
tessen (iron fan, and weapon), as well as inrō, both separate and box types. The
first two have ink in a separate pot; this dual body type may have areas for seals
and knives, while the box type is a smaller ordinary writing box (suzuri-bako).
Perhaps the most impressive are those in the shape of a gun: some actually fire
bullets-effective for frightening, but inaccurate!
Famous smiths like Baitetsu, Tansai, Ryū'undō, and Ryūmondō made yatate
but also men known for making other sagemono. Fleischel mentions, for
example, Kokusai, Minkō, Masanao, Shibayama, Hashi'ichi, Rantei, Mitsuhiro,
Zeshin, and Kenzan. Over a hundred signatures must remain: this literacy
symbol was favored from shōgun to farmer.

Fig.189 Tobacco pouch, kinkarakawa (dressed leather with gold paint and various designs), with gold carp
clasp, anon., 19th c., 5 in (13 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 190 Yatate, stag antler, with tiger on lid of inkpot, anon, 19th c., 7 3/4 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

Fig. 191 Yatate,wood, with design of snail and lizard, anon., 19th c., 7 3/4 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy
Sagemonoya.

Dummy Swords (Bokutō)

During the Edo period, samurai carried a long and a short sword, but ordinary
people wore neither. Since Japan had its fair share of night-time baddies, self-
defense was a problem for people out in the dark. This gave rise to the bokutō,
or "seeming-sword." Its job was to look like a weapon and be workman-like, if
applied to an opponent. (Another way of naming it might be "nightstick".) The
normal material for a dummy sword was solid wood. Bladeless, it was curved
like a sword but, as happened with many Japanese things, the simple weapon
soon grew all kinds of pretty little extras so that they were lacquered, inscribed,
or inlaid with various materials and sometimes signed with names famous in the
netsuke world. Some are full sword length, 26-30 inches (66-76 cm) but with
time they became shorter and more delicate.
Bokutō are rather rare, though they were used during samurai rule from the
seventeenth to the nineteenth centuries; probably they were discarded when
safety was no longer an issue.
Until recently, the word bokutō was translated as "doctor's sword;' on the
grounds that doctors had to attend patients at night and needed a weapon-and
probably a smooth-talking salesman's spiel! However, it is now known that
doctors were of sufficiently high status to carry at least one sword and there is no
proof that they carried wooden swords anyway. It was a nice theory.
I have a long wooden yatate which is close enough to the shape and length
of a bokutō (it also has the same skull-jangling ability), so it is probable that
there was a generally felt need in the country for protection at night.
Fig. 192 192 Yatate (writing brush holder), bamboo, carved in sukashi-bori, with matching inkpot,
anon, 19th c., 81 /4 in (21 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 193 Yatate, with lacquered land scape design on ink holder, signed Chikuzan, Meiji era, 91 /2
in (24 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.
Fig. 194 Yatate, wood, carved in shape of seahorse, with lids opening to show seal pad and
inkpot, anon, 19th c., 8 3/4 in (22 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Fig. 195 Four bokutō ("seeming-swords"). Top: Inlaid design of plum blossoms, anon., 19th c., 17
1/2 in (44 cm). Second: Lacquer design of plants and insects, anon., 19th c., 17 in (43 cm). Third:
Inlaid design of skull and rosary, anon., 19th c., 18 in (46 cm). Fourth: Design of skull and pine
branch, signed Minkō, 19th c., 16 3/4 in (42 cm). Photo courtesy Sagemonoya.

Miscellaneous
Sagemono means "anything hanging from the waist" so we may add things like
the occasional saké flask, or the highly patinated antler tip which would make an
ideal gouger or pick, and indeed the gunpowder horn with cicada flap on my
shelf, though they are not normally part of the canon.
Occasionally, you are lucky enough to find cabinets for storing netsuke.
The Tokyo National Museum was given one and another Shibayama beauty is in
Fig. 13la, b.

Collecting Sagemono
 Top netsuke by artists like Masanao of Kyoto and Kaigyokusai can fetch
tens of thousands of dollars; the highest price netsuke I have heard listed was
$240,000 (at the Boston Netsuke Convention, just before September 11th, 2001),
though Richard Silverman mentioned $300,000 at the 2004 International
Netsuke Society Convention in Honolulu. The prices of quality inrō are high,
too. Other sagemono cost much less as a rule, but if an unprecedented piece
perhaps with a famous signature came along, who knows?
Old but commoner shapes and less attractive or damaged pieces may be
found for between $100 and US$500. Collector Willi Bosshard (Daruma 39) has
come across fake old netsuke, even some made in Germany, so care is needed.
Long ago he bought one with a fake famous signature but liked the work so
much he later asked the Kyoto netsukeshi to affix his real name, not that
requested by the store: but that cost more than the original purchase!
New netsuke made in greater China may cost $50-100 (my record low is $10
and $30 for a new inrō, simply because the seller knows a factory). They have
similar motifs and materials (fake or composite ivory, or lathe-cut wood) so
budget buyers can afford them, but those with more experience want to tap into
the feeling of a work being handled over time-especially the smooth patina
which marks long use. Most collectors value the genuine over the imitation and
also know that, with luck, people will still find sagemono desirable in years to
come, so the chances are you will not lose money over the decades.
A stray meeting with a cheap netsuke can lead the reader on to vertiginous
delights of discovery, so I would encourage you to get your hand in with cheap
pieces, study them, read specialist books, and walk round galleries and museums
to see better. If you find you like them, then look for more original netsuke,
those that excite the inner eye, the inner cauldron, remembering that damage and
repairs have a dramatic effect on resale value, so have eagle eyes or take a
magnifying glass with you!
CERAMICS

Japan's pottery history is as old as any, going back perhaps 15,000

years. These pots are not easily available as Japanese law says
Neolithic items belong to the state but may be left in the custody of
approved finders under certain conditions Theoretically, you cannot
buy very old pieces but they do turn up occasionally. They may also
be recent "replicas." Occasionally, one sees haniwa (goofy statues,
often people) from ca. AD 300-400. Old haniwa are hard to find,
though new copies abound, and this is true too of hajiki, a reddish
earthenware for everyday and ceremonial use from the fourth century;
sueki (Fig. 197), gray, glass-like ware imported from Korea in the
fifth century, turned on the wheel and high-fired (for centuries); and
shiki, bisque ware bearing three-color lead glazes (sansai), especially
in eighth-century Nara.
In contrast, fifteenth-to nineteenth-century stonewares and
seventeenth to nineteenth-century porcelains are everywhere in the
West and modern pots are ubiquitous enough to be a collector's
dream. So many varieties are made to such high standards at so many
kilns in so many regions by so many fully and semi-professional
potters today, that Japan must be the worlds potting center! More
potters make a living from potting in Japan than all other developed
countries together (10,000-15,000 would be my estimate), The great
annual exhibitions featuring carefully vetted work, and the eyes of
most ceramists, suggest that the technical and artistic standards of
pottery in Japan are unsurpassed.
Fig. 196 Imari kraak platter with central pomegranates, floral cartouches, ca. 1700, diam 22 in (56
cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 197 Decorated sueki jar, 6th c., excavated at Nish i-Miyayama tumulus, Hyōgo Prefecture, ht
15 in (38 cm). Shoulder figurines suggest wrestling or hunting scene. Photo courtesy Kyoto
National Museum.
Fig. 198 Two Imari fan-shaped plates, ca. 1880. Left: With birds, diam 9 in (23 cm). Right: With
shippō (overlapping circles) back designs, diam 10 in (25 cm). Author's Collection.
Rainbows of Shows and Skills
Artists in the West tend to be individualists, and are therefore hard to herd into
large enclosures so as to provide a significant corpus of work for appraisal and
judgment by keen critics and buyers. But Japan has many large exhibitions, such
as the Nitten, where newcomers to the country can overview the gamut of
strands and skills in Japanese pottery. Prefectures and regions also organize
shows of this sort, bringing together the best-known potters of an area.
Exhibitions of works by seasoned or up-and -coming potters are mounted in
every season and region. In some countries, all the main shows are held in the
capital or largest regional capitals. In contrast, in Japan there is a plethora of
exhibitions, for example, at department stores: no matter where you live there
will be interesting pottery shows to excite your interest-though the entrance fees
of ¥500-1200 ($4-10) may shock.
In Japan, art is considered worth paying for, and as a result the government
does little subsidizing. Outsiders find it hard to believe that art pays its way here.
Galleries tend to stay in business and some artists (not only potters) even
become wealthy and villages prosperous and crowded, especially during pottery
fairs. Western countries should learn from Japan that there is no particular
reason bankers should be rich and artists poor: success should depend on flair
and hard work in any field.
It is not possible to detail here the thousands of potters working now.
Instead, I mention some producing areas, giving an idea of what is made there,
and a few names. A fascinating aspect of collecting, or at least learning about
pottery, is that you can combine it with tourism: many kiln-rich areas are worth
visiting in themselves. There is often a museum and additional general
showrooms at Mashiko, Shigaraki, and Tamba-Tachikui that will prove a
broader view than visiting an individual potter.
In the West, we tend to stress porcelain over stoneware or earthenware, so
after explaining the difference, the reader will look at porcelain, then pottery,
clearly Japanese collectors' favorite. Many are looking for personal contact with
a potter at his own workshop, not a faceless porcelain factory like Noritake,
however good it is.
Porcelain and Pottery Defined
True or hard-paste porcelain is made from special clay and fired at a temperature
of about 2340° F (1300° C). The surface is glassy and somewhat translucent. It
has a cold, hard feel to it and rings when struck. The old china made in Britain
and France is called soft-paste porcelain. It has a warmer feel and is softer and
lighter. It does not ring. This does not make it better or worse, just different.
Pottery in Japan is often fired to temperatures just as high as real porcelain,
but is made of clays which do not ring or become transparent. Works are usually
more heavily potted (the clay is less resistant to strain and knocks) and have a
warmer, softer feel. These pots may be glazed (have a glassy skin) or unglazed
and are termed stoneware. However, only technically minded Japanese use the
word sekki. Most use yakimono as the general word for porcelain and pottery
together and divide that into jiki, meaning "porcelain," and taki, meaning
"ceramics of all kinds but specially pottery."
Low-fired pottery or earthenware (doki, tsuchimono) is found in every land.
It is light, brittle and slightly porous. The word is perfect for older pottery of
Japan, such as the haniwa noted above, terra cotta or the pottery of Indonesia or
Africa in general.
Fig. 199 Imari porcelain four-layer jū bako (food container), underglaze blue with geometric
enamels and dragon on lid, ht 18 1/2 in (47 cm). Tomobako shows it was exhibited at Louisiana
Purchase Exposition, 1904. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 200 Blue-and-white Imari barber's bowl with continuous flower arabesque back, ca. 1680, ht
3 in (8 cm), diam 12 1/2 in (32 cm). Author's Collection.

Fig. 201 Polychrome Imari barber's bowl with hanakago (flower basket) design), bare back, 18th
c., ht 3 in (8 cm),diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 202 Polychrome Imari barber's bowl with hanging wisteria, willow and cherry against plum
tree; three peach designs on back, ca. 1680, ht 3 in (8 cm), diam 11 in (28 cm). Author's
Collection.
Chinese and Japanese Porcelain
China was so famous in Renaissance Europe for its beautiful ceramics that it
gave its name to the ware that rich Westerners bought for their dinner services.
Japan became known for porcelain in Europe from 1658 under the name Imari,
the port that shipped the porcelain made at nearby but landlocked Arita.
For decades, the Dutch East India Company had danced with the Chinese
traders linked to Chin-de-zhen, the center of Chinese porcelain manufacture, and
ordered porcelain which they sold in Europe for high profits. When China was
riven with internal dissension after the Ming Dynasty fell in 1644, supplies were
cut off and the dancing stopped. Instead, the Dutch proposed to the Japanese
who replaced the Chinese in the ballroom. The records of this partnership reveal
that hundreds of thousands of Imari pieces were sent to Batavia (the Company's
headquarters in Indonesia, now Jakarta) and Europe. This trade through
Nagasaki gave great impetus to the Imari-Arita area of Kyūshū.
The Chinese perfected porcelain from the eighth to twelfth centuries. Chin-
de-zhen was treasured by the emperors who gave it special orders and
protection. Porcelain soon formed the bulk of China's exports to Southeast Asia.
It was admired everywhere and many sought to copy it but lacked the necessary
expertise and materials. Nevertheless, porcelain know-how gradually spread
south to Annam and east to Korea where blue-and-white porcelain was fired in
quantity during the sixteenth century.
Korean Origins of Japanese Porcelain
Toyotomi Hideyoshi officially ruled Japan from 1586 to 1598. He further unified
the land after a century of civil war and infighting among the daimyō, and felt
that one way to crown his success internally would be to conquer all or a part of
Korea. His dreams ended in failure in 1598, but his generals corralled some
Korean potters and drove them back to Kyūshū where they were put to work
locating suitable clay. They seem to have split up and gone to different areas.
The standard story says that good porcelaneous clay was found at Izumi-yama,
just outside the town of Arita, in the province run by the Saga clan in west-
central Kyūshū, by a Korean, Ri Sampei (Lee Sam P'yong), and porcelain was
being made at Arita, probably under his guidance by 1616. However, Nagatake
Takeshi (1916-87, author of Classic Japanese Porcelain) quotes a Nabeshima
clan archive, Arita Sarayama Daikan Nikki, which says that Ienaga
Shōemon had made porcelain at Tengudani (Arita) from 1605 and was
subsequently displaced by Ri Sampei.
The Hirado clan, a little further north, also sought kaolin. In 1622, they
found some and started a kiln at Mikawachi, a mere 3 miles (5 km) from Saga
clan territory. Initially, there were failures and glaze materials like cobalt were a
problem in the Arita area, but by the 1630s an acceptable quality was being
made at several kilns. The Korean potters and others had adapted to the available
materials and traditions of quite another land.
Interestingly, there were already strong traditions of stoneware in adjacent
areas: Karatsu, Nakano, and Hirado were also largely started by Koreans and
followed Korean patterns using coarse clay and unstable kick-wheels which
resulted in irregular shapes. According to Oliver Impey, formerly of Oxford
University, who has researched the early kilns, the first Imari porcelain was
probably made at a kiln which also made stoneware. His book, The Early
Porcelain Kilns of Japan, contains a picture of a porcelain pot fused to three
stoneware pots, conclusive proof that they were fired together. He believes that
initially kilns kept their irons in both fires, waiting to see which product would
sell best. In business terms, porcelain was an extension of their trade. This
gradual changeover would explain why one cannot say which was the first
porcelain kiln or who was the first porcelain potter.
Fig. 203 Imari scalloped plate focusing on beribboned, collared regal cat, 19th c., width 12 in (30
cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 204 Imari blue-and-white bowl with lid, 1860-80, ht ca. 16 in (41 cm). Private Collection.
Fig. 205 Polychrome Imari bowl with fluted rim, ca. 1950, ht 9 in (23 cm),diam 16 in (41 cm). Jay
Burns Collection.
Fig. 206 Massive Imari platter with phoenix and chrysanthemum lobes, three-colored floral
designs on back and characters "Hizen Arita-Tashiro sei"-naming (Tashiro) kiln or potter is rare-
ca. 1860-70, diam 22 in (56 cm). Author's Collection.

Specialists call the examples of this first period and up to about 1645 Shoki-
Imari, meaning "early Imari." Slightly more recent ware (up to 1700?, though
some say about 1760) is Ko-Imari. This term is not precise as it literally means
"old Imari."
Some less scholarly or unscrupulous dealers use this term for any "old"
Imari, "old" being a question of judgment. As a personal opinion, it is unlikely
that beginning collectors would want to buy Shoki-Imari. It is rather rough and
ready, perhaps even coarse, and irregular in shape and color, as control of firing
was still in its infancy. It is not cheap either. It is best left to specialists until you
have seen a lot and are well acquainted with the subject.
A lot of the best blue-and-white Imari was made between 1650 and 1720. In
a monograph sent to me analyzing the Shimada Kinji Imari Collection, Suzuta
Yukio, former curator at the Kyūshū Ceramic Museum in Arita, broke the period
down as follows. (There is considerable overlap and a lot of old stereotypes have
to be rejected, as there is a mixture of "Old Kutani" and Kakiemon in the "Imari"
fold). The first era, Jō (1650-70), had higher footrings, a thin body, deeper cobalt
color, and thinner, patchy infilling (dami) lines, but more contrast and less
refinement. The Empō or Kakiemon era (1670-90) featured refined shading and
blue tones, with single large enclosed footring seals in seal script. Features of the
Empo decades are white, evenly applied thin glaze. Foliate molds are common,
as are brown rims, while delicate lines and "negative space with a special
asymmetric placement with a special spatial tension are plentiful." The footring
became vertical. Genroku era (1690-1704) Imari is less delicate, more
"gorgeous" and condensed, with little negative space. Stylization is a feature.
There is "gold enamel Chinese scrolling on a red ground and gold enamel on
underglaze cobalt-blue. The decorative composition is segmented and filled with
Chinese scrolling." After 1710, the patterns became looser and less easily
defined.
Chūki Imari means "mid-period Imari"-roughly the eighteenth century, but it
may cover the period 1680-1760. It has a laudatory bias, as many Japanese
dealers think this is a great period, especially for blue-and-white wares made to
domestic taste, as the painting is beautifully controlled, the ground clean, the
shape precise, and the blue soft. Seki Kazuo, in Seiki Imari, suggests that the
best work, perhaps including Hirado, with its precision, softness of color, and
artistry has never been surpassed anywhere.
A tremendous amount of Imari porcelain left for Europe in the years 1658-
1720. Later Imari lost out to lower-priced Chinese porcelain (the country had
recovered stability). The European porcelain industry was getting into its stride.
Import duties on Imari became onerous and only a relative trickle was exported,
often privately. For quaint or other reasons, some dealers have chosen 1680 as
the year when they catalogue old Imari, though I suspect few but professional
curators know within several decades when the wares were really made.
Genroku-era Imari is another name for it (used more loosely than by Suzuta
above). Strictly speaking, the era was from 1688 to 1709 but it was a period of
great educational, artistic, and commercial expansion so has resonance. Indeed,
some use the word for at least the years when Tsunayoshi was shōgun (1680-
1709) or even more widely.
Fig. 207 Centaur plate (human face, horse body),ca.1740,diam 10 in (25 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 208 Dame au parasol pattern plate attributed to Dutch artist Cornelius Pronk, commissioned
by Dutch East India Company,ca.1740,diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 209 Imari fūzoku scene (showing customs): snowed-under temple with women lightening
snowy boughs, rolling snowballs and readying to sweep; lots of rivers, dark trees and fukizumi
(blowing pigment through tubes) on area round hill, decoration on back, ca. 1875, diam 18 in (46
cm). Private Collection.

Much export ware is in the typical Imari colors of deep underglazed blues
and overglazed reds, with a little green and gold splashed around on the blue and
white. There are often geometric cartouches round the sides and a central design,
perhaps with flowers or flower baskets (kraak designs). Among the most
dramatic items are the chargers, some 2 feet (61 cm) across (see Fig. 196). One
piece on a mantelpiece dominates the area round it.
It was common for the Dutch East India Company to provide pictures made
in Europe for copying by Japanese kilns (as with two shown on the plates in
Figs. 207 and 208) or armorial crests (more common in China).
Much old Imari ware decorates European palaces and chateaux today, altho
ugh a surprising number of pieces have passed through the hands of London and
Amsterdam dealers in past decades and returned to Japan, a process the Japanese
call satogaeri or "returning home." Interestingly enough, the same has been
happening recently with Korean china, now that many Koreans are well off. At
auction, Koreans vie to bring back old exports at astoundingly high prices. The
volume of china exported from Japan was much higher, so that the market is
deeper. Besides, the question of ensuring cultural survival is not a problem for
Japan, so old Japanese porcelain prices are more reasonable. However, China
sold much porcelain for many centuries, so more stores handle it.

Fig.210 Five-piece Imari garniture of trumpet vases and jars with roosting hen finials, ca. 1700, ht
of jars 7 1/2 in (19 cm), ht of trumpets 5 in (13 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 211 Imari tureen with shishifinial, peacocks with typical soft-colored floral scrolling, fans and
geometric cartouches, 19th c., ht 16 in (41 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Kilns and Techniques
Imari
Imari (Figs. 196, 198-217) refers to the unmarked porcelain turned out by some
150 kilns in and around Arita, but more specialized kilns were operated by the
Nabeshima and Hirado clans, and Sakaida Kakiemon (1596-1666).
Nowadays, almost anything can be done with pigments, but in the early
seventeenth century cobalt blue was the only color that could stand the 1300° C
(2370° F) needed to fire porcelain. Other colors were applied after the first firing
and the piece reheated to a lower temperature (otherwise the colors evaporated
or changed hue) to fix the colors. These are called overglaze enamels. The blue
is "underglaze:' meaning that it was applied directly to the semi-dry clay and
then covered by a glass-like protective layer called glaze. The other colors were
painted on top of this glaze and so are "overglazes" or "enamels!' The blue was
protected by the glaze and never got worn but often the overglazes got rubbed
over the years while being washed, or were cut by Europeans' knives, leaving
scratches, or became fainter (gold often fades).
The shapes of export porcelain (five-piece garnitures of vases and jars,
lidded pots), and coffee/chocolate pots were sui generis.

Fig. 212 Assorted colored soba choko (soba noodle cups), unmarked, ca. 1880, ht 3 in (8 cm).
Author's Collection

Fig.213 Decorative square and hexagonal Imari saké pourers, ca. 1880, ht (from left) 6 in (15
cm), 6 in (15 cm), 7 in (18 cm),. Author's Collection.

Fig. 214 Two blue-and-white Imari kendi (ceremonial water pourers), ca. 1680. Left: Ribbed, ht 8
in (20 cm). Right: With scattered flowers, ht 7 1/2 in (19 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 215 Polychrome Imari teapot, plum tree on one side, peonies on other, unmarked, 18th c., ht
6 1/2 in (16 cm). Author's Collection.
Kakiemon
Sakaida was named Kakiemon (Fig. 220) by his daimyō for the kaki or
persimmon color he invented in 1643; he was the first to produce a color other
than blue from Chinese-made overglazes (other stories pullulate). Later colors
are azure, pale yellow, aubergine, brown, and pale green. Aesthetically,
Kakiemon stands out for its empty space; usually just a third was painted with
"off-center" designs. Unlike the busy patterns of ordinary Imari, the spareness of
Kakiemon's floral and bird patterns is striking. The stylized, artistic Kakiemon
patterns were widely admired-and copied from 1672 in Japan, then at Meissen
and Chelsea, even in China! In addition, the kiln is rightly proud of the milky
white (nigoshide) ground. Some say that from around 1735 quality was less
inspiring, but the family keeps the old designs and traditions. Galleries and
department stores often feature Kakiemon porcelain. On the price label you may
see XIII or XIV, indicating the potter's generation. (Kakiemon XIII died in
1982.) Prices are in the range of $300-2,000 for plates but can reach tens of
thousands for older or more ambitious shapes and items.
Fig. 216 Imari palace vase with shishi (lion) doing handstand on lid, body fluted, traditional
enamels and phoenix and dragon, 19th c., ht 42 in (107 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.

Fig. 217 Baluster-shaped palace vases with cranes in ribbon scrollwork, 19th c., ht 42 in (107
cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 218 Polychrome camellia dish with underglaze blue trunk, overglaze flower decoration, base
with overlapping circles and comb pattern riser, Nabeshima (Arita), 17-18th c., diam 8 1/2 in (22
cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig.219 Nabeshima swept-round thistle plate with three floral arabesques on back, ca. 1800, ht 4
in (10 cm), diam 13 in (33 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 220 Polychrome Kakiemon. Left: Plate with floral pattern, 18th c., diam 5 in (13 cm). Right:
Kendi, ht 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Author's Collection.
Nabeshima
Nabeshima porcelain (Figs. 218, 219) was presented by the eponymous clan to
the Imperial family, shōgun and samurai and was thus not purchasable. Only
after Westerners had come to Japan and the clan system ended, along with clan
kilns, did it become admired in the West. The Ōkawachi kiln (1675-1871) was
marked by strict quality control. Anything substandard was discarded, since it
could not be a desirable gift to a connoisseur from the clan leader. Besides, there
were no commercial reasons to keep borderline or waste pieces as it would mean
demeaning your own prestige. It was either acceptable or not-modern "zero
defect" manufacturing.
Nabeshima designs are bold and unusual among Oriental ceramics. They are
typically sparse, striking floral or vegetable designs without a trace of
Kakiemon's pretty cuteness. Nabeshima made no flat pieces. The rims are turned
up and the bases vital, accounting for about a third of the total height. They bear
a blue comb design whose skill often decides quality and age: if it is confident
and straight, it passes the test. Since the style is so distinctive, it is aped, so take
care. Prices for the best period (up to, say, 1800) are in the high thousands of
dollars while pieces made later should be much cheaper. The thistle bowl shown
in Fig. 219, made around 1800, would be the price of a good second-hand car.
Hirado
This was another clan kiln. From a small city-island state north of modern
Sasebo, Hirado-ites traded with the Dutch who had a trading post there until1640
and made money from excise duties. Later, it is rumored, they dealt directly with
foreign traders a tad beyond the shoreline, where no rules applied.
The Matsura family had run the clan for generations and had made pots on
their home island since 1598, at Nakano. Their Mikawachi kiln made porcelain
from 1622 (Figs. 221-226). The clay had too much iron and tended to have a
gray appearance (and crackling, too, at Nakano), but Louis Lawrence says that in
1662, Imamura Yajibei found fine clay on Amakusa Island, within the fief but
60 miles (90 km) away over water and land. The Matsura daimyō's financial
backing allowed refining of the clay to a brilliant whiteness, and especially after
1668 when the big Mikawachi Higashi kiln was built, Hirado could boast of
court painters with elegant designs and great clay. The first dated piece (1723)
has lovely soft colors and fine floral sprays. Up until the mid-nineteenth century,
pieces were small but then grew like Topsy. Hirado did fancy molding and
figure sculpting as the clay could hold any shape, however frilly the design.
This "can do" attitude was not admired by the Japanese, but Westerners can
see the spark of innovation and subtlety, combined with attractive soft colors
that win us over. Looking at Hirado ware today, we are struck by the rarity of
matching pieces. In one room there may be a dozen fish designs ending in an
opening for saké or mirin, or dragon designs, but you rarely find two the same.
Fig. 221 Hirado blue-and-white tulip vase, low relief phoenix decoration on white ground with blue
peonies, ca. 1850, ht 11 in (28 cm). Ex-Richard de Ia Mare Collection, shown at 1956 Oriental
Ceramic Society Exhibition. Author's Collection.
Fig. 222 Rare resting elephant Hirado censer, 19th c., ht 5 1/2 in (14 cm). Photo courtesy Flying
Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 223 Imposing blue-and-white Hirado jar with shishi finial, body with flying cranes and sculpted
dragons, 19th c., ht 15 in (38 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 224 Underglaze blue-and-white Hirado vase; upper body reticulated and embraced by
dragons, lower part a chrysanthemum on a four-legged plinth, 19th c., ht 10 in (25 cm). Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 225 Rare Hirado porcelain canine family, with mother suckling, ca. 1840, ht of dog 15 1/2 in
(39 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 226 Robust Hirado baku (nightmare eater); lion's body, elephant's trunk, and ox tail indicate
power, 19th c., ht 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 227 Deep polychrome bowl with flowers and birds, painted by Takekoshi Zenbei I (1843-
1907),diam 15 1/2 in (39 cm). Photo courtesy Keisei lsogaya Museum.
Fig. 228 Kutani haisen (saké cup rinsing bowls), c. 1890. Left: ht 7 in (18 cm). Front: Heian
woman, ht 6 in (15 cm). Right: ht 6 in (15 cm). Author's Collection.
Kutani
This is a village on the Japan Sea coast in Fukui Prefecture in a bustling pottery
area, making vividly colored ware (bright green, red, and gold are common but
not blue-and-white). Plates are rarer than saké sets (often two flasks and five
cups) or tea services in Western shapes. They are often marked with the easy-to-
read Japanese characters "nine valleys." For over a century, Kutani has sold
pretty saké sets, and collectors will find hundreds of modestly priced (from $1)
items at flea markets and stores. Quite a few pieces with exotic love scenes
(shunga) may catch your eye, or trick pieces, such as a birdsong flask which
"sings" when you pour, or has a hidden tube so liquid seemingly disappears.
As explained later, Kutani was created anew so potting and painting skills
were brought in; bosses vied for the best so Honda Sadakichi, Saida Isaburō,
Aoya Gen'uemon, Matsuya Kikusaburō, and Kutani Shōza painted everywhere!
Famous kilns are the Kasugayama, Wakasugi, Ono, Minzan, Yoshidaya, Sano,
Miyamoto and Eiraku, wrote Georges Bouvier in Daruma 39.
The area had been famous for seventeenth-century pieces made in the unique
style known as Ko-Kutani, considered to be of high artistic value. Kanazawa has
a museum with many masterpieces in this style, and since most such pieces were
apparently found in the Kanazawa area, it was assumed that Ko-Kutani
originated there. This reputation led the Kaga clan to "restart" Kutani early in the
nineteenth century. This was a difficult task as the kiln sites were unknown,
apart from two old and seemingly unsuccessful kilns. What we buy today is the
product of this venture (Figs. 227-231).
Fig. 229 Ko-Kutani style shallow porcelain bowl with magnificent bold decoration, 17-18th c., ht 2
in (5 cm),diam 13 in (33 cm). Ko-Kutani was made at Arita, Kyūshū, but long thought made near
Kanazawa. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

There was always something suspect about the story-how could an admired
industry disappear without leaving kiln sites or wasters? The answer appeared
over the last few years, thanks to Impey's excavations. "Old Kutani" was made
in Arita, Kyūshū (four kiln sites with wasters or other shards bearing Ko-Kutani
patterns had been found as of 1996) and shipped to the Kanazawa area! The
mystery remains of why the designs' hard greens, yellows, and aubergine are so
unlike ordinary Imari. Presumably, they were made at the request of Kanazawa's
Kaga family, but why? How did they think up the unbelievably striking designs
seen on the dishes or the very different colors? Why were they only shipped to
Kanazawa? With our modern commercial instincts, it seems inconceivable that
this trade should have so long remained a secret.
So-called Ko-Kutani is prized and rare. I went to an auction a decade ago
where a dish about 12 inches (30 cm) in diameter in heavy greens was offered. It
had been broken in half and carelessly mended. Knowing how hard plates in that
condition are to sell, I was dumbfounded by the bids: ¥2 million, then ¥4, then
¥6, then ¥8, then ¥10 million ($85,000)-then withdrawn!
 Because of competition between dans and the desire to prevent money
leaving a fief for "imported" porcelain, many other kilns started, like the Kotō
porcelain made between 1829 and 1895 in Hikone, east of Lake Biwa. It enjoyed
a brilliant period when daimyō Ii Naosuke supported it in the mid-nineteenth
century until he was assassinated. The same holds for many kilns in Tōhoku,
such as Aizu Wakamatsu and Sōma. Those interested in this specialized field,
might look at Janel Houton's overview in Daruma 29.

Fig. 230 Green handled bowl with morning glories and sparrows, diam 91 /2 in (24 cm). Photo
courtesy Keisei lsogaya Museum.
Fig. 231 Polychrome rakuyaki small chest with design of pagodas, sansui (hills and water), flowers
and birds, painted by Aoya Gen'uemon (1778-1863), ht 9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy Keisei
lsogaya Museum.

Fig. 232 Takatsuki or compote with polychrome pine, bamboo, and plum blossom, Ko-Kiyom izu
pottery, 18th c., ht 4 in (10 cm), diam 9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 233 Kiyomizu saké bottle, late 17th c. Photo courtesy Montgomery Collection.

Kyōyaki
This refers to porcelain and pottery made in Kyoto, often with refined colors. As
the artistic capital of the country, the city has boasted many famous names over
the years. It has important art colleges and is a magnet for artists and potters.
Unlike other areas, it is difficult to sum up Kyoto's potting. It ranges from Raku
(strictly speaking not Kyōyaki, as it is low-fired) through daintily painted
overglaze works by the likes of Ninsei (fl. mid-seventeenth century) and Ogata
Kenzan (1663-1743) who turned out superb works with his brother Kōrin.
Well-known Kyoto potters today include Shimizu Uichi (1926-), who is
famous for temmokuand other tea bowls; Miyashita Zenji (1939-), who makes
lovely overlapping slip color stoneware; Kiyomizu Masahiro (1954-), who
sculpts flat or curved linked surfaces, perhaps letting interior spaces peep out;
and Tsuboi Asuka (1932-), who started a women's potter group and is famous for
erotic works and Kyoto maps.
Rakuyaki is a hand-shaped, low-fired, lead-glazed ware probably first made
by a tile maker called Sasaki Chōjirō around 1575, and still made by the same
family (XV now). Rakuyaki tea bowls were favored by tea master Sen Rikyū.
The term has broadened over the years to include any low-fired, fast-made ware.
Reasons for its popularity are that it needs no wheel experience and, lacking
explicit instructions, has always encouraged originality.
Nowadays, much porcelain is sold in the city but environmental regulations
have pushed wood-burning kilns out into the countryside. Many stores crowd the
slopes of Kiyomizu-dera, so another name for Kyōyaki is Kiyomizu-yaki (Figs.
232, 233).
Historically, Kyōyaki ware was modeled on Kōchi (Chinese Chiao-chih or
Kōchin) colors, with particularly large dollops of green. Potters kept its thick
glazes and made only high-fired wares, tackling unusual shapes and borrowing
from wood and lacquer shapes, even copying the materials themselves.
By the 1640s, potters used a yellow-white base for delicate underglaze
patterns, producing lovely hanging vases (like a quiver in Tekisui Museum), an
exquisite brazier (in Kyoto City University of Art), and a lovely cricket cage.
The potter Rihei worked earlier in Kyoto but later moved to Takamatsu
where he made pottery for the Matsudaira family who kept some fine pieces. His
work is considered Kyōyaki because of his techniques and materials, for
example, a lovely foliate bowl, mainly in blue and gold, with a tortoiseshell
pattern on the inside.
Nonomura Ninsei is famous for his polychrome tea jars (the Yamadera and
Yoshinoyama jars are exquisite), but tea bowls (like one with a sharply angled
base top and lozenges or "Musashino"), caddies (like one with gathering storm
clouds in different glazes), an icicle-shaped wall vase, and a flat-topped
polychrome water jar excel too. Some of his works just take the breath away.
Ogata Kenzan grew up surrounded by artists. In his pots, he applied the
brushwork skills he had internalized to become a great artist on clay. He often
used flat surfaces like square plates, covered dark clay with white slip and
painted on that, sometimes working with his brother Kōrin, founder of the
Rimpa School of art. His work has some Raku qualities, like firing at 700-900° F
(390-500° C), but he decorated more, mixing under-and overglazes and signing
with a brush, not impressing a seal.
He was less a potter than an artist who used clay as his canvas. Lovely works
include a set of five seascape plates, a maple and Tatsuta river tea bowl, and
boat-shaped dishes.

Fig. 234 Satsuma, festival scene at Maruyama Park, Kyoto, Kinkōzan/Sōzan signature, ca. 1880,
ht 9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 235 Satsuma plate with elephant caparisoned for festivities and children carrying banners,
signed Yabu Meizan on back, Meiji era, diam 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.

Fig. 236 Tapering square Satsuma bowl, sides with scenes of craftsmen, rice planting, and
trading on sides, inside with maple leaves, signed Yabu Meizan, Meiji era, ht 5 in (13 cm). Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 237 Satsuma tray with small figures against a powerful waterscape with subtle tones framed
by fabric-like border, signed Shizan, Meiji era, ht 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Collection of Mr and Mrs A.
Kasten. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Satsuma
The Satsuma clan was based in Kagoshima, southern Kyūshū. They were rich
because of the tribute extracted from Okinawa which they controlled from 1609
and its sugar trade. Far from the centers of power and distinctive in dialect, the
fief felt like an independent state. The warrior clan rebelled against the
government in 1877, and it took all the central government's strength to put it
down.
Satsuma was among the first clans to have relations with the Westerners who
started coming to Japan after 1854. Visitors were impressed by the leader's
hospitality and some bought the local ware. Satsuma is an earthenware (though
Westerners think it is light porcelain) with a distinctive crackled glaze which
traces its history back to 1583, it is said.
Early on, some kilns made a dark clay body with little decoration. Other
pieces had a shark-skin finish due to Sawankhalok (Thai) influences, or a
"scorpion" crackled finish. By the late eighteenth century, some Satsuma ware
borrowed Saga and Kyōyaki polychrome techniques, achieving the form we
think of today, decorated sparingly with India red, green, purple, black, and
yellow enamels and with fine silvering and gilding. Large areas were left bare to
show the fine glaze crackling (Figs. 235-241).
It appealed greatly to Westerners and was exported in quantity to Europe and
America, and copied/painted in Kyoto, Kobe, Osaka, Yokohama, Kutani, and
Tokyo. More complicated designs were developed to please export customers
who liked all-over patterns with little visible crackling. The distinctive crackling
occurs after firing: the body and glaze cool differently and this interaction leaves
a network of fine cracks. When designs are added, the crackling provides a built-
in ground and the chance of light diffracting colors in different directions.
Common are a light fawn or khaki green, often finely painted with floral and
other designs.
Fig. 238 Unusual shaped Satsuma ewer showing festival scene with vendors and musicians,
signed Seikozan, Meiji era, ht 9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 239 Globular Satsuma vase, gosu blue and colored enamels with panels of brocade patterns
and floral motifs on pale ground of stylized waves, 19th c.,ht 14 in (35 cm). Photo courtesy Flying
Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 240 Satsuma vase, fan -shaped panels show ducks on lake and underwater scene on a rust
red ground; shoulder bears autumn flowers and chrysanthemums; panels signed Sōzan, one
marked "Kyoto,pinkōzan zō," Meiji era, ht 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 241 Lidded Satsuma jar with detailed painting; two panels depict bow, arrow, and armor
makers, adults playing go, and children with puppies;others bear natural subjects and lake Biwa
scenery, signed Yabu Meizan on base, Meiji era, ht 5 in (13 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Yabu Meizan (1853-1934) of Osaka was the most prolific manufacturer of

Satsuma ware. He bought undecorated blanks from Chin Jukan of Kagoshima.
He won a prize at the Kyoto Exhibition in 1885, then capitalized on international
expositions to make good sales and garner enormous orders, especially from
America. In the 1880s, he portrayed rakan (disciples of Buddha), other Buddhist
themes, and Chinese children, 'but from the 1890s he turned to more Japanese
subjects like fighting samurai or subjects copied from ukiyo-e. His very precise
designs were made by using copper-plate designs, transferred to paper and
outlined against the pottery ground.
Other famous names are Kinkōzan of Kyoto, run by Kobayashi Sohei (1867-
1927), whose patterns tended to fit the shape better than Yabu Meizan's, and
Takebe Shōkō, who worked with English trader T. B. Blow and Swiss collector
Alfred Baur. Joe Earle mentions how the "combination of absorbing subject
matter with infinitely painstaking craftsmanship exercised such a fascination
among those Europeans and Americans who could afford the best work." Many
other marks, like the typical "plus sign within a box" of the Shimazu family,
hereditary rulers of the Kagoshima clan, can be found. As so many places made
Satsuma, the painting and finish are uneven, but some Satsuma is great!
Irrespective of origin, it was exported as Satsuma "Far Eastern Jewellery."

Fig. 242 Imban (transfer-printed plates), ca. 1880. Left: Octagonal plate with lucky gods Ebisu
and Hotei, diam 12 in (30 cm). Right: Scarecrow scene, diam 6 1/2 in (16 cm). Front: Three Shōjō
atop saké vats with long ladles (hishaku) against a seigaiha ground, a design often used by the
Kameyama kiln, diam 8 in (20 cm). Author's Collection.

Transfer and Stencil-Printed Porcelain

Japanese distinguish carefully between hand-painted (tegaki) and the less valued
printed (imbande) porcelain (Figs. 242-245). There are several techniques. Most
common are dōban tensha (copper-plate transfer, or decal) and katagami imban
tensha (stencil-paper transfer print), though designs were also incised (inkoku).
Printed china became popular in the revolutionary 1870-80s when everything
was changed and people wanted novelty in every field. It had the advantage of
being cheaper to make and more suited to detailed lines and therefore to
depicting the new things coming in from the West, like trains and bridges and
telegraph wires.
In antique stores and flea markets, it is common and inexpensive, so we use
it for parties at home (very durable but heavy, though widely praised by guests,
and at friends' houses in New York and Britain). I collect it and wrote the first
book on it, Igezara: Printed China, analyzing the different forms of decoration
and techniques, and showing why transfer-printing excels where detail is
desirable but Japanese prefer hand-painted (as do I for fine pieces). Some pieces
have transfer-printed outlines and hand-painted detail. Attractive pieces in Japan
are $10-300 but often more overseas. It is undervalued and very collectible! In
the long term, Bunmei Kaikaku and other exotic designs will hold/build value
while standard designs may wilt.
Fig. 243 Igezara (printed plates with brown pie-crust rim). late 19th c. Left: Scholar at garden
gate, diam 15 in (38 cm). Front: Hawk hunting scene, diam 7 in (18 cm). Right: Shi'itake
mushrooms, diam 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Author's Collection.

Fig. 244 Imban plates. Left: Uniformed schoolboys by waterwheel. Right: Kojima Takanori carving
poem on cherry tree, roughly meaning "Heaven will not desert Your Highness; a faithful retainer
will come and rescue you'; ca. 1880. Author's Collection.

Fig. 245 Imban plates. Left: Rickshaw puller against a Mt Fuji ground with bats and plovers;
fukizumi technique gives speckle, illegible blue mark, floral sprays on back, diam 8 1/2 in (22 cm).
Right: Rice bale and "Artificial Fertilizer Co." (now Tokyo Exchange quoted firm, new name), diam
8 in (20 cm). Author's Collection.
Sumidagawa
This is a colorful ware popular in the United States,_made for export by the
River Sumida, Tokyo, with a l900-l920s heyday, and discontinued after the war.
It is little seen in Japan, but SUMIDA by Herbert Karp and Gardner Pond gives
a full description.
The teapots, vases, and mugs (and a million others) are often red and black,
heavy, and covered with figures in relief. According to Jan-Erik Nilsson's
website from Gothenburg, Sweden, "the style of applied figures on a surface
with flowing glaze was invented about 1890 by the Seto potter Ryōsai I, who
worked in Tokyo from about 1875 to 1900. They are often embellished with
glazed plaques with handwritten signatures or general good luck symbols....
Many are probably the work of one family-lnoue Ryōsai I (1828-?), Ryōsai II
(born ca. 1860) and Ryōsai III (1888-1971)." Other potters include Hara Gozan,
Ishiguro Kōko, Sakurai Fuji, and Sezan. Commonly the upper half is partially
flambe glazed, or glazed with two or more splashed colors that may run, creating
droplets. The unglazed portion may be painted, glaze or bisque.
To give a feel for pricing, l quote a June 2003 Sotheby's London auction: "A
large Sumidagawa vase, circa 1900, the turned iron-red body shaped unevenly to
resemble caves and ponds on a mountain with assembled rakan, a thick black
glaze covers the neck and trickles down, details in various shades of grey, green,
blues and browns, signed in seal form on a white porcelain plaque Tōgyokuen
Ryōsaizō, and on a scroll held by an immortal, Sumidagawa, 47.7 cm., 18.75 in.,
expected price range £2,000-3,000." Smaller pieces are in the hundreds of
dollars.
Mike McLeod mentions on the Net a "magnificent example by Inoue Ryōsai
in the Lightner Museum in St Augustine, ria., [which] has 354 applied monkey
figures swarming over homes in a village. Another fabulous piece by lshiguro
Kōko stands 48 inches high and exhibits 500 rakan. In 1899, it won first prize in
an exhibition in Tokyo, and now resides in the George Walter Vincent Smith Art
Museum in Springfield, Mass." He is amazed by the detail on earlier works
where eyes, lips, teeth, and even tongues are fashioned, but later just a line for
the mouth.
Other names for Sumidagawa include Poo ware, Ranko, and Asakusa Banko.
Poo ware was made by a Shekwan potter, Poo Youshe, with patterns like
Sumida. The term llanko applied to Japanese export or souvenir wares. To
satisfy governments, the words Nippon, Made in Japan (USA) and Foreign (UK)
may be applied. A US dealer has warned me that the colors are not firm, so
washing with strong detergents could strip the color.
Folkcrafts and Pottery
As a concept, folkcrafts have greater resonance than in other rich countries as
industrialization started later (allowing local crafts to survive) and due to innate
conservatism, the promotional movement by Yanagi Sōetsu, potters Hamada
Shōji, Briton Bernard Leach, Kawaii Kanjirō and Tomimoto Kenkichi,
deliberate postwar government promotion, and the custom, since 1950, of
anointing experienced old craftsmen as "Living National Treasures." Yanagi's
philosophy has a physical presence in the famous Mingeikan near Tokyo
University, which houses his 1930s collection.
The Folkcraft Association of Japan still pushes its ideals: that craftsmen
make practical items working with other artisans along traditional lines
with local rnaterials and without conscious "prettification:' and sell them allow
prices and unsigned.
As Brian Moeran relates in Folk Art Potters of japan, this ideal is outdated.
He studied Onta, a pottery village in the hills of Oita Prefecture, Kyushu,
reckoned to be as near the ideal as anywhere but found it falls short. The
folkcrafl boom of the late 1960s and 1970s caused inequality and reduced co-
operation, as city people traveled to kilns and workshops all over the
countryside. On his evidence, incomes went up tenfold in Onta for many lucky
craftsmen, making them solidly middle class. He found everybody knew about
Yanagi (so their work could not be unconscious) and saw that his ideals were
impractical as uniform goods did not sell but new ones did. Why make uniform
goods when locals, wholesalers, city folk, and the craftsmen themselves all favor
different pots?
Folkcrafts have been made in every land and some, like Moroccan leather,
Toledo steel or damascene, are internationally famous, but other factors explain
its resonance here. As Moeran says, the ideals are close to those of traditional
rural society. Just as William Morris's yearning to go back to old hand-worked
traditions in his British movement came some 100 years after the Industrial
Revolution, so Yanagi harked after the old rural life that was crumbling around
him, inspired by Leach's comments on Morris.
The clan system of Japan hurl the individual but built local strengths. fiefs
had some economic independence and vied to sell to others and keep secret their
own successful goods. For example, once you were employed at the Nabeshima
kiln (see page 125), you had to stay forever while would-be apprentices from
outside were turned away in case they were really industrial spies (often true, as
with the spread of Imari skills to Seto and Tohoku). Indigo (ai) was the local
product of Tokushima, Shikoku; the clan made the production process a secret to
uphold an exclusive aura and so the indigo price when trading with other
fiefdoms. Even now, the Ishikawa Prefectural Museum refuses to accept that
"old Kutani" was made in Kyushu, so that it can proclaim the uniqueness of its
"Old Kutani" collection (anyway the pots are fabulous and worth traveling
thousands of miles to see, so it is easy to see why the pots which were mainly
found in the area acquired the aura of myth).
The poor transport system into the twentieth century (Hida Takayama was
only linked by rail to the outside world in the 1930s) also kept alive the tradition
of local crafts longer than in many advanced countries. This was bolstered by the
old Japanese urge to tag each area as being "famous" for a certain good or scene,
as in ukiyo-e print sets. Then, travel books gave the special textiles or dolls of
towns along the Tōkaidō Highway (Osaka-Edo). The buying of special local
food or crafts when traveling is still very strong. When teachers from my
university proctor entrance exams in faraway places, they bring back the local
cookies or cakes for other teachers.
Lively stories reflect this tradition. Some men may tell their wives about a
forthcoming business trip, spend a night with a lady friend, and next day buy for
their wife an omiyage (souvenir) of the region they pretended to visit at the
concourse of Osaka Station (where every prefecture has a store selling its
traditional crafts or foods) to "prove" they made the business trip.
The Craft Business
Polkcrafts (like dolls and woodcrafts) appear in other chapters but the theory and
practices of pottery given here apply there too.
The Prefectural Craftgoods Association of Japan has a large hall in
Aoyama, Tokyo, where the crafts of each region are displayed and craftsmen can
sometimes be seen at work and admired; regions still uphold their distinctive
flavor, for prestige and economic reasons.

Fig. 246 Mingeikan map of traditional potteries in Japan, Tokyo, 1970. Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

The internet page of the Folkcraft Association of Japan lists 191 local crafts
under the categories of weaving, dyeing, ceramics, lacquer, wood, bamboo,
metal, paper, writing materials, Buddhist altars, and miscellaneous. This last
includes Ise stencils, Izumo stone lanterns, Marugame fans, Kōshū deerskin and
crystal carving, Banshu fish flies and abacuses, and dolls from Hakata, Edo,
Kyoto, Miyagi, and Suruga-a veritable rainbow.
Japanese Crafts: A Complete Guide to Today's Traditional Hand-
made Objects edited by Diane Durston, has beautiful photos of 91 fine
traditional crafts and a welter of additional information. It mentions the various
techniques but avoids saying directly that they are folkcraft, as the items she has
selected are refined; they are the BMWs, not the Chevvies of this world. In her
introduction, she says that in the 1990s the Japan Craft Forum identified 1,060
"distinctive crafts" made by over 240,000 craftspeople, of which 184 have been
granted official government recognition.
Collecting Folkcraft

As can be seen above, local crafts have an importance far outweighing that in
other advanced countries-which makes tourism all the more enjoyable. However,
if collecting crafts means spending a lot of money, collectors should be on
guard. There is a great vested interest in maintaining the system, but it is hard to
decide whether the "crafts" have not become industries underpinning tourism
and local economies, When buying cheap things while traveling, this does not
matter, but before deciding to collect things which cost real money, collectors
should ask themselves whether they are buying something made by an individual
craftsman with his/her own idiosyncrasies and skills, or a mass-produced
industrial product that might have little resale value. On the contrary putting
together a collection, for example of dolls or saké flasks from each place you
visit, can provide a lot of satisfaction, while keeping old memories alive.
Given the number and variety of items mentioned already, it would be silly
to put forward certain items as being particularly collectable, but I shall add that
the materials you like (I love woods with strong grains, while my wife prefers
paper and textiles) will probably influence what you collect. If you get the
chance to visit a hall exhibiting all kinds of things, take the plunge and look
around. If you buy nothing, at the least you will have received a general
education and you just might find some aspect that fascinates you! Whatever
happens, you get an insight into the pride and workmanship of the Japanese
artisan. For them, money matters less than using and passing on skills handed
down from the past, and always aiming at perfection-though making a living
matters too, of course.
Fig. 247 Bizen flask for medical saké (sweet, with herbs), ca. 1850, ht 7 in (18 cm). Author's
Collection.
Fig. 248 Bizen storage jar, Muromachi era, ca. 1480. Photo courtesy Montgomery Collection.
Fig. 249 Bizen stoneware. Middle: Rectangular plate with frame, length 12 in (30 cm), width 7 1/2
in (19 cm). Left, on tray: saké server, ht 5 in (13 cm). Back: Vase by Kimura Koraku-en, ht 9 in (23
cm). Back right: Spouted serving bowl, diam 5 in (13 cm). Right: Two unglazed saké cups by
Yoshimoto Tadashi; saké cup with white inside (Tamba) by Ikuta Tazutaka (1927-82), Tsuda
Yoshio Collection; pale saké cup with typical hidasuki red and brown flame pattern by Kyoko,
daughter of Yamamoto Tōshū at Bishū kiln ca. 1975. Front: Three-footed, two-leaf cake dish by
Harada Shūroku, ca. 1980, length 9 in (23 cm). Author's Collection.

If forced to define where collecting is feasible, I would stutter and say that
creativity within a tradition, expensive materials that have been carefully chosen,
and proof of authorship are factors that matter, like clear tactile qualities,
durability, and possible utility. Having shot off that bolt, collecting attractive or
interesting things is the endearing habit of every magpie and squirrel, so why not
you? Find out if you are a kleptomane by looking. Pottery might be your thing!

Pottery Areas: The Six Ancient Kilns

Pottery (tōki) is made everywhere in Japan, so let us start with the Six Ancient
Kilns (see pottery map Fig. 246) which had started in the Middle Ages and
survived the centuries: Bizen, Tamba, Shigaraki, Seto, Echizen, and Tokoname.
Two dozen others made pots but gained less fame, so do not count historically.
Bizen
Bizen ware (Figs. 247, 248) has been made at Imbe Village, Okayama
Prefecture, for 800 years and may be the most distinct and conservative. After a
200-year slump, it was revived by Kaneshige Tōyō in the 1930s. It uses clay
from below rice fields, and largely avoids glazes. It looks old-fashioned or heavy
when you first meet it, but grows on you with time. The colors are restrained
(browns and reds are common) and the bottom surface is somewhat gritty due to
inclusions (fine when placed on tatami mats but hard on polished furniture with
no mats). Bizen sometimes uses straw (hidasuki) or leaves to apply marks to a
pot's surface during firing and leave a permanent imprint, which can be
beautiful. Bizen ware is fired for 10-14 days, using large quantities of pinewood,
which explains why a saké thimble often costs $50. Some 350 potters are said to
be active and the town is prosperous. Kakurezaki Ryūichi (1950-) is some
people's favorite, while critic Robert Yellin believes Harada Shuroku (Fig. 249),
Mori Tōgaku, and Abe Anjin make the most exciting pots, while upholding
Momoyama traditions. Other notables are Fujiwara Yū, Fujiwara Kei, and
Yamamoto Tōshū.
Tamba
Tamba ware (Fig. 254) comes from Tachikui in the hills behind Kobe.
Prominent designs include a vertical prawn (which is strange as Tachikui is
located inland!), farming vats and, more recently, saké jars with dripped writing
on them advertising a store or brewery. Tamba's location made it hard to ship
finished pots to coastal markets. Most potters in the village are surnamed Ichino
or Shimizu, so go by their first names.
There is a museum in the nearby castle town of Sasayama and a collection of
materials in the village of Tachikui (Figs. 250-254), which give a good historical
overview. As in Bizen, Tamba potters did not use glaze but used the natural ash
glaze from the pine logs burnt in the kiln. The effect of this "glaze" cannot be
planned exactly, so luck is needed to make things turn out well. Unexpected,
admired results of firing are called yōhen.
The names Bizen and Tamba reflect the province where they are located.
Both areas found favor with those who founded the Tea cult and admired the
pots' simplicity and quiet unpretentiousness. Orders from Kyoto helped build up
the kilns in the late sixteenth century. Both passed through bad times when
industrialization threatened them, but flourish, thanks largely to the Mingei
Movement that valued nameless potters over those with famous seals.

Fig. 250 Large green Tamba plate by lchino Satoru, ca. 1978, diam 18 1/2 in (47 cm). Author's
Collection.

Fig. 251 Tamba stoneware large, deep plate by Shibata Masa'aki (1950-), unsigned, diam 15 in
(38 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

Fig. 252 Contemporary stoneware by Shimizu Toshihiko. Left: Large kata kuchi (spouted bowl), ht
4 in (10 cm), diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Right: Men tori (faceted) vase, height 6 in (15 cm). Front:
Serving dish, unsigned. Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 253 Tamba stoneware by lkuta Kazutaka. Left: Fluted vase, ht 6 in (15 cm). Back: Globular
vase, ht 6 in (15 cm). Right: Bowl with fluted sloping sides, diam 9 in (23 cm). Front: bowl with
fluted straight sides, diam 10 in (25 cm), all 1970s, unsigned. Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 254 Tamba jar, natural ash glaze, late 15th c., ht 17 1/2 in (44 cm). Pleasant shape from
coiling, then compacting. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Shigaraki
This is an area south of Lake Biwa and east of Kyoto. From the late twelfth
century, it made high-fired pots with some "hot spots" receiving a natural ash
glaze. It features distinctive clay with glassy beads of quartz and feldspar
embedded in it. The area runs a regular international pottery festival, turns out
huge amounts of utilitarian and garden pieces like planters, and is known for its
tanuki.
The real animal is a badger or raccoon dog associated with good luck and
money. The statues come in all sizes, from doll to mammoth, and are bisexual
with breasts and prominent gonads. A large wallet and saké flask complete the
tanuki's kit. Many years ago two young male students gave my wife a tanuki
when she told them about our engagement. It still stands at our front door though
it needs a nose job after falling in the Kobe earthquake. Perhaps it saved the
house and family.
Seta
Seto (Fig. 257) is a general name for the area north of Nagoya. The word
setomono, literally "thing from Seto," means china, as this area has made much
of the country's tableware for centuries. To emphasize that Seto is the heartland
of Japanese pottery, the term Kuniyaki ("national ware" is sometimes applied to
its output.
The biggest medieval base was probably around Mt Sanage, turning out
glazed blackish-brown and yellowish-green vases and ordinary crockery. Later
kilns were known for coarse, yellow, horse-eye plates (Ki-Seto) (Fig. 256). The
area is closely associated with the tea ceremony as many tea masters patronized
it or came from there. Plentiful china clays are found in Seto and its surrounding
districts, like Mino. The area now houses major firms making items such as
basins and toilets, still using clay as the basic material.

Fig. 255 Seta stoneware by Mizuno Hanjirō XIII of Hongyō Gama, Seta, 1970-90. Back left: Plate,
diam 8 in (20 cm). Back middle: Single flower vase, ht 9 1/2 in (24 cm). Back right: Plate, diam 14
in (35 cm). Front left: Plate, diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Front right: Bowl, ht 3 in (8 cm), diam 8 in (20
cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 256 Seta horse-eye stoneware shallow bowls, unsigned. Right: Early 20th c., diam 14 in (35
cm). Left: Late 19th c., diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 257 Pitcher in "Meiping" shape, Seta ware, natural ash glaze, 13-14th c., ht 7 1/2 in (19 cm),
diam 6 in (15 cm). Nice lines and glaze suggest dead leaves. Photo courtesy Kyoto National
Museum.
Tokoname and Echizen
Tokoname (Fig. 258) and Echizen are no longer so active. The first is east and
south of Nagoya on the Chita Peninsula and the latter at Oda-chō and Miyazaki,
Fukui Prefecture. Their wares were mainly workmanlike and practical, heavy
and sturdy.
Kumano Kuroemon of Echizen is popular among friends, as he tries to go
beyond the boundary by firing at 1500-1700° C (2700-3000° F), creating many
martyrs and an occasional hero!
Other Old Pottery Areas
Karatsu
A port near Imari and north of Arita, Karatsu had many Korean potters;
Handōgame is reckoned to have been the first kiln in the mid-sixteenth century.
A century later, probably some 100 kilns were making rough-hewn stoneware
pots with simple underglaze floral or reed patterns, often with iron oxide
painting. Karatsu varieties include e-Garatsu (pellucid glaze over metal glaze
pictures); madara (speckled with blue straw-ash glaze spots); Chōsen (Korean
style with straw ash glaze); oku-Kōrai (simple unprettied ware); ki, ao, and kuro-
Karatsu (yellow, green, and black ware respectively); and hori or carved
Karatsu. Plain Karatsu is muji-Karatsu.
In 1976, Nakazato Tarōemon XII (1895-1985), whose family dates from the
early days, was made a Living National Treasure to recognize his reinvigoration
of the ancient tradition, now carried on by his eldest son. The autumn 2002
exhibition at the Nezu Institute of Arts, Tokyo, opened people's eyes to the
ancient but non-stereotypical wares, featuring much greater size, colorfulness,
and the pine motif. It is particularly loved by Tea people. Karatsumono means
china in western Japan (setomono in the east).
Agano
Pots from Agano date from the early seventeenth century, when the Kokura
(northern Kyūshū) clan leader, Hosokawa Tadaoki, a Tea fan with many
admirers, asked a Korean potter to come and built him a noborigama or climbing
kiln in Agano. Kobori Enshū (a daimyō Tea master) liked many Agano bowls
and other tea ceremony items. Pottery critic Robert Yellin likes its coloring,
surfaces, luster, lightness, firing changes, and the way the glazes run.
Taka tori
Near Fukuoka, Takatori was founded by Korean potters in 1601 and lasted 250
years, thanks in part to Kuroda daimyō support. It was influenced by Karatsu and
at first tended to produce thickly potted everyday wares and a few tea wares.
After getting orders from Kobori Enshū, the potters made slim-walled, subtler
bowls with a toffee-colored glaze.
Onta
Onta is a small Kyūshū village with many admirers. In Oita Prefecture's hills
(west of Beppu Spa), it keeps to the old ways of firing with wood and is marked
by the style you see in Fig. 259. Observers like Moeran see it as the last bastion
of folkcraft in Japan, but even he admits it is infiltrated by commercial
considerations. It still usually sticks to non-signing but is self-conscious with so
much to read and knows some pots sell and others do not.

Fig. 258 Tokoname figure, ca. 1800. Photo courtesy Montgomery Collection.
Fig. 259 Back: Onta (also Onda) seed storage jar, unsigned, ca. 1978, ht 14 in (35 cm). Left:
Serving dish, diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Front: Soba bowl, diam 8 in (20 cm). Right: Recent saké
flask, marked Onta, ht 11 in (28 cm). Typical tobi-kan'-na chattering on all. Tsuda Yoshio
Collection. Onta saké flask Author's Collection.
Hagi
This is a western Honshū castle town famous for warrior politicians in the mid-
and late nineteenth century and the potters it has boasted since the Korean
brothers Ri Shakkō and Ri Kei first fired Hagi around 1604 in Matsumoto-
Nakanokura. The Saka and Miwa families have dominated Hagi since shortly
after its founding, Miwa Kyūsetsu XI being particularly famous. The clay is
generally light in color and weight, and white glazes are common. After many
years of holding hot water, the surface develops a crackling which is loved
especially by Tea people. Another typical trait is the "broken" base deriving
from Korea. Perhaps to prevent heat deformation, potters made a triangular cut
in the base that is now almost a trademark. Ido-jawan came from fifteenth-
century Korea where they were rice bowls but Tea masters liked their quiet
beauty.
Akahada
This town is associated with Nara and Yamato-Kōriyama Castle whose owner in
the eighteenth century, Yanagisawa Gyōzan, invited Kyoto artists to pot in his
fief and protected their market. It is delicately potted, so brittle, and often white
with a pink tinge.
Iga Ueno
This was a rather rough looking, mainly domestically used form of pottery in the
late sixteenth century, till tea masters Furuta Oribe and Kobori Enshū took an
interest in its characteristic splits and cracks, turning it more to tea wares. Iga
output slowed toward 1700 and petered out later, though output has been
restarted (Fig. 260).
Mino Ceramics
Mino ceramics are stonewares from the Seto and Mino areas of Gifu Prefecture,
north of Nagoya, dating from the late sixteenth century. They are tea ceremony
allies. Mino-born Furuta Oribe (1544-1615) was a daimyō under Oda Nobunaga,
Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu (who later ordered his seppuku for
political meddling). After studying with Sen Rikyū, Oribe started his own Jess
restrained way, teaching it to Ieyasu's son, and had tea wares made with green
copper glaze, white slip, deformed shapes, and impromptu underglaze designs.
Orders to seven kilns have linked them to him ever since, including some in
Kyūshū. His most famous disciples are Kobori Enshu and artist Hon'ami Kōetsu.
While traditional Oribe is green (Fig. 262), black also exists.
Shino
Dating from the sixteenth century, Shino tends to be white-glazed stoneware
with iron oxide brush markings. It may have small pinholes in the surface, which
tea masters favor as yuzuhada (citron skin). While valid, I see icing over
gingerbread. Shino often uses milky-white ash/feldspar glaze. Varieties include
nezumi (mouse), plain, red, pink, and pictorial Shino (muji, aka, beni, and e).

Fig. 260 Iga Ueno stoneware by Tanimoto Mitsuo, with typical ash glaze, 1980s. Above: Dish,
diam 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Below: Dish, diam 11 in (28 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 261 Mashiko stoneware. Back middle: Soy sauce pitcher by Shimaoka Tatsuzō (LNT). ca.
1970, ht 4 in (10 cm). Back right: Triangular vase by Shimaoka Tatsuzō, ht 7 1/2 in (19 cm). Front
right: Square plate by Shimaoka Tatsuzō, diam 71 /2 in (19 cm). Back left Small black plate by
Hamada Shōji's pupil(s)?, 1970s, diam 5 in (13 cm). Front left: Large black plate by Hamada
Shōji's pupil(s)?, 1970s, diam 10 in (25 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

Fig. 262 Fan-shaped lidded green Oribe box with three legs and handle, Mino (Oribe); spatula
applied fan decoration and rustic sabi-e painting, 16th c., ht 4 1/2 in (11 cm), length 12 in (30 cm),
width 10 in (25 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 263 Stoneware plate by Hamada Shōji (1894-1978), ca. 1970. Photo courtesy Montgomery
Collection.

Kuro-Seto
This comes from pulling pots from the kiln when still untouchably hot so that
they interact with the air and turn black. Most other Seto is ki-Seto-yellowish to
green.
Mashiko
This is located in Tochigi, northeast of Tokyo. It is home now to 300-400 mostly
folkcraft-style potters and is the ceramic town closest to the capital, so thronged
with tourists, kilns, and would-be potters. Ōtsuka Keizaburō probably started
Mashiko in 1853. The award-winning German ceramist Gerd Knaepper started
there and lives nearby. The local clay is not ideal for potting and it is really only
Hamada Shōji (1894-1978) (Fig. 263) and his pupil Shimaoka Tatsuzō (Fig.
261) that made Mashiko known.
Mashiko pottery exemplified the simple, rustic charm of mingei, or folk art,
in which craftsmen work without artistic aim or pretence to create functional
objects of beauty. Utilizing nearby mountain clay and firing red pine wood,
Mashiko potters speak to both the spiritual and practical sides of life with such
everyday items as plates, bowls, and tea cups. Hamada was designated a Living
National Treasure by the Japanese government in 1955 and Shimaoka Tatsuzō,
Hamada's apprentice for three years, received the same honor in 1996.
Miyajima, who apprenticed with Shimaoka for five years, continues the
mingei tradition. Veri, a native of Ohio, moved to Mashiko in 1982 to pursue her
interest in Hamada's pottery, and she and Miyajima later established their own
kiln in the area. The two artists continue to work closely together while
maintaining their own styles, blending modern and traditional pottery.

Star Potters of the Twentieth Century

To choose some recent generation potters out of the thousands possible, I am
going to save myself apoplexy and rely on Yono Fuyuhiko, who in a series
lasting several years in Daruma magazine, gave his choice of Japan's best
potters; many were made living national treasures (LNT), like Tamura Koichi
(1918-87) who made a name for himself with Rimpa-style designs but later
added "iron painting, copper-red coating and gosu to celadon" and "devitrified
white glazed or unglazed earthenware."
An enfant terrible is Katō Tōkurō (1897-1985), a technical genius born to a
Seto potter. In a 1933 book, Yellow Seto, he doubted its Seto origin, posited a
Mino origin, and "criticized the unfounded worship of tradition." In pre-war
Japan, the idea of an unbroken line of emperors was strong: this book was seen
as insulting "the ceramic ancestors", leading to some book-burning.
He got into hot water again in 1960. A saké bottle from an old Seta site was
said to date from around 1300, was made "an important cultural property;' but it
proved later to be Tōkurō's work. This forgery scandal caused a public problem
and made the experts mad, but it also showed his virtuoso technical proficiency.
His art name, Ichimusai, implied we all start from scratch in each generation, as
he believed in "ichidai kagiri, only one generation, so hereditary tradition is
invalid." After being famous in youth for his Shino Tsurara (Icicle) and Oribe
works, he later delivered a well-received ceramic wall to China. In his last
decade, he focused on perfecting a murasaki (purple) Shino.
The reputation of Fujimoto Yoshimichi (1919-92, LNT) rests on his
polychrome porcelain which used original methods, like mixing pigments (for a
wide color range) that all melted at the same heat. Instead of outlining colors and
filling them in, pigments themselves formed colors' light and shade, allowing
greater realism and painterliness. He achieved great success: he was first
President of the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music.
Opinions about Kitaōji Rosanjin (1883-1959) are as the ocean. From an
adopted but priestly Kyoto background, he grew up independent enough to study
Japanese painting, calligraphy, antiques, ceramics, lacquer, and cooking on his
own, then opened swish restaurants that attracted the rich. He had a knack for
making food look good and asked Kita Kamakura potters to make dishes which
he decorated with literary (for example, haiku) allusions. Thus he was not a
potter in the narrow sense (so fakes abound) but his name is magic in Japan!
(The land's two greatest gods are Convenience and Epicureanism.) Katō Hajime
(1900-68) was a Seto potter and great technician who spent years researching the
clay base (soji) of pots and their glazes and was awarded the Grand Prize at the
Paris International Exposition in 1937. He developed new overglazing
techniques. He died trying to finish a large ceremonial jar for the emperor.
In a way, Arakawa Toyozō (1894-1985), LNT, rediscovered Shino when in
1930 he chanced upon old kilns in the Mino hills. He worked hard to recreate the
old Shino glazes, softening them and sometimes combining them with Karatsu
style iron patterns.
After a promising start and prizes with the traditionalist Japan Ceramic
Association 1966-8 and an assured future, Kamoda Shōji (1933-83) (Fig. 264)
suddenly moved to Tono in northern Japan and changed to simple ash-glazed
pottery with incised patterns, color inlays, straw-rope patterns, and primary
colors.
It is clearthat Hamada Shōji (1894-1978, LNT, see Fig. 263) will be a big
name for centuries. He helped Bernard Leach set up a kiln in Cornwall, UK, and
spent three years there opening his eyes to other old traditions-slipware and
pitchers-that also spurred his activity in the Mingei Movement (later he headed
the Mingeikan). He single-handedly made Mashiko a potting center, gave it
study resources, and taught Shimaoka Tatsuzō, his artistic son. Yo no says:
"Earlier he liked rich, chocolate colours with contrasting light slip decoration,
applied like a master, though he also did darker slip on creamy browns. In mid-
life he turned more to greys and green glazes. Later there was more variety and
the use of characters. His trade mark colour was persimmon."
Fig. 264 Contemporary stoneware by Hamada Shōji's pupils. Top: Pouring flask by Kamoda Shōji,
ht 7 in (18 cm). Center:Two-eared vase by Fuji'i Sachiko, ht 8 in (20 cm). Below: Vase by Fuji'i
Sachiko, ht 7 in (18 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

Fig. 265 Vase with design of irises by Makuzu Kōzan, early 20th c., ht 4 1/2 in (11 cm). Photo
courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.
Fig. 266 Curling lipped stoneware vessel with brilliant poppies by Makuzu Kōzan; tomobako, Meiji
era, ht 12 in (30 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 267 High-shouldered, waisted porcelain vase enameled in yellow, incised with butterflies on
leaves, signed Seifū Yohei Ill on base, tomobako, Meiji era, ht 12 1/2 in (32 cm). Photo courtesy
Flying Cranes Antiques.
Studio Potters
The term "studio potter" is relatively new and evokes various reactions. Defining
it is easiest by opposites: a traditional Djerba (Tunisia) potter making the wares
handed down on the island for centuries, and the ordinary folkcraft potter of
Japan, are the exact opposite of studio potters; both traditional artists make
things in the old shapes for use on the table and are not concerned with
developing new items or making ornaments.
Studio potters, on the other hand, try to use all the resources of knowledge,
their own imagination, and other cultures' traditions to make new things that may
be useful but are also akin to sculpture in some way. They are an expression of
his/her desire to express and create anew-like Basil Cardew, Bernard Leach,
Lucie Rie, and Hans Coper in Britain, and Peter Voulkos and Robert Turner in
the US: they do not fit Biblical definitions of potters, yet have added
immeasurably to mankind's achievements.
Various traditional forms of ceramics in Japan have been outlined above, but
the whole current of the times is towards originality and self-expression, so that
the generalizations apply to the past, but who can foretell the future? In any case,
the "traditional Mashiko style" of Hamada and Shimaoka, to take an extreme
example, may have been lost in the feverish experimentation that busies the kilns
there now that "let 1000 flowers bloom."
The Mingei Kyōkai tries hard to keep alive potting within a certain tradition,
playing down personal creativity and selfishness, and upholding the tradition of
anonymity, as does their local representative in Hyogo Prefecture, Shimizu
Toshihiko (see Fig. 252); but the same artist holds individual exhibitions at
famous department stores and is happy to sell there at prices that reflect the
public's evaluation of his ability. In a sense, folkcraft and an advanced economy
with plentiful information cannot co-exist.
Fig. 268 Water jar with lacquer lid, underglaze reeds and white shell in relief on porcelain body,
signed Seifū Yohei Ill, tomobako, ca. 1900. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 269 Studio celadon vase with raised wave patterns in underglazes, signed Miyanaga Tōzan,
tomobako, Meiji era, ht 14 1/2 in (37 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 270 Celadon study of bird on rippling lily pad in flecked jewel tones, raised, impressed
Makuzu Kōzan seal, tomobako, ca. 1910, length 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 271 Three wise monkeys in porcelain with incised fur and rosy eye glaze, signed Makuzu
Kōzan, ca. 1900, ht 3 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 272 Three-tiered jūbako (food container) by Aoki Mokubei (1767-1833), famous potter and
artist, showing Ten Noble Plants in underglaze blue, 1815, ht 8 1/2 in (22 cm), width 6 1/2 in (16
cm). The theme is in Chinese literati taste and signed (box dated). Jūbako stored New Year food.
Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 273 Okinawan stoneware sansai (following Tang Dynasty three-colored ware) shallow bowl
by Matsuda Kiyoshi, diam 14 in (35 cm); larger bowl with same pattern won important Kokuten
prize in 2000. Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

Fig. 274 Sencha tea ceremony tea pot (dobin), by Mr Okishio of Akahada, near Nara, ca. 1980,
ht 5 1/2 in (14 cm), diam 8 in (20 cm); two tabi-jawan (tea cups for travel), diam 4 in (10 cm).
Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 275 Kuro-Satsuma flasks for shōchū (distilled spirit). Left: Satsuma crest from kiln in lbusuki,
1980s?, ht 8 in (20 cm). Right: By Mr Samejima, Naeshirogawa kiln, Kagoshima, ht 6 in (15 cm).
Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Special Pottery Terms

Yakishime firing implies firing at high temperatures with anagama (single-chamber tunnel kilns)
or noborigama (multi-chambered climbing kilns) for many days. It suggests the tsuchi-aji or
kind of clay flavor and form this process produces.

Temmoku is Japanese for the tea bowls first made in China in the Song Dynasty (960-1279)
and named after Mt Tienmu in Chinese (Temmoku in Japanese). The first mention of temmoku
is in 1335 by Onkei Soyu, a monk who studied at the mountain.

Yōhen. refers to lucky changes in the kiln, as in Bizen, if the glaze runs during firing. A
"hares'fur" effect can leave seeming "clumps" on the surface (also seen on temmoku).

Yuteki is an oil spot effect from excess iron oxide cooling slowly and forming bright spots on
the surface. It is hard to achieve.

Celadon (seijl) is a reduction-fired glazed ware that started in Song Dynasty China and
spread across Asia. Experts say that the world's best celadons are China's twelfth-to
thirteenth-century Southern Song wares made by the imperial kilns, Kuan ("official") Ware
made for the Imperial court.
Most Japanese potters avoid celadon as it is too hard to acllieve-there is an 80 percent
failure rate-so successful celadonists are few. Among them, according to Yellin, are Minegishi
Seikō (1952-), Kawase Shlnobu, and Miura Koheiji. Minegishi excels in a decorative technique
called shinogi. He carves deep lines into the reduction-fired ware before applying a thick
celadon glaze. The sharply cut low relief ridges allow the glaze to pool and form concentric
circles. He has also reproduced the Kuan-style kanyū (deep crackles) that appear like onion
layers, overlapping the powder blue or soft green celadon surface, forming wonderful glass-
like geometric etchings.
Modeled after Korean Yi Dynasty (1392-1910) Punch'ong wares, Kohiki typically means
an iron-rich body covered with white slip and translucent glaze. Korean potters' Kohiki
appealed to Japan's warrior-Tea men in the late 1500s and so are associated with Tea. The
most famous kohiki tea bowl is "Matsuda ira" in Tokyo's Hatakeyama Memorial Museum of
Art. Tsujimura Shiro (1947-) specializes in kohiki bowls, perhaps with a thin white slip over the
body and rusty glaze patches on the surface, based on old Korean bowls and the masterpiece
mentioned above.

Mishima derives from a calendar written in squiggly kana lines at Mishima Taisha
(shrine) since 1636, which recalled the rope curtain designs of Korean Punch'ong stoneware
and earlier Kōrai tea bowls which had plant or animal designs inlaid in contrasting colors, or
cut out so the design appeared raised above the surrounding area; hence works like this-
mostly tea bowls-were called Mishima.
 The most famous and prolific Meiji era studio potter was Makuzu Kōzan
(Figs. 265, 266, 270, 271), born Miyagawa Toranosuke in Kyoto to Chōzō, a
tenth-generation purveyor of tea bowls to Imperial-family linked priests and
princes. He became the artistic legatee of Aoki Mokubei (Fig. 272), receiving
molds and knowledge (see Clare Pollard, Master Potter of Meiji Japan, Makuzu
Kazan (1842-1916) and His Workshop, for fuller data). Chōzō died in 1860 so
his son took over the kiln, at first continuing his father's work. On the advice of a
Satsuma royalist, Komatsu Taitō, and beckoned by ambition, patriotism, and the
chance to meet foreign needs according to Kurihara Naohiro (see Daruma 9),
and perhaps to escape heavy family death-induced debts, he moved to
Yokohama to contact the new market, make great pots and a name for himself-
keeping him at the forefront for decades, while others just potted to sell. He won
a gold medal at the Vienna International Exposition in 1873, just three years
after setting up a studio in Yokohama, with dozens more medals in later years.
In 1888, he handed over day-to-day management to Han'no suke, his son,
and concentrated on studying Chinese, Korean, and modern European ceramics.
The fruits of this are seen in Song Dynasty (960-1279) style celadon and other
works, duly noted on the base or accompanying box (tomobako). Remember that
such statements mean "inspired by" or "in the style of"-they were not copies!
Makuzu Kōzan sei is the commonest base mark. Makuzu II suggests a twentieth-
century date. Called Miyagawa Kōzan in Japan, Makuzu Kōzan's studio had a
very large production, is extremely collectible and pricey at auction (see Figs.
265, 266, 270, 271)!
Fig. 276 Okinawan stoneware. Back left:Awamori (millet liquor) hip flask (datchi-bin, for carrying
drink to the fields) by Kinjō Toshio, contemporary, ht 7 in (18 cm). Back right: Hip flask, unsigned,
contemporary. Front left: Awamori server by Uezu Shigeo, contemporary. Front middle: Hip flask
by Kobashikawa Niō, ca. 1960, ht 6 1/2 in (16 cm). Front right: Saké cups, by Miyagi Sumiko,
contemporary. Tsuda Yoshio Collection.
Fig. 277 Okinawan stoneware. Back left: Bowl by Uezu Shigeo, diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Middle:
Tea server by Uezu Shigeo. Right: Pitcher by Uezu Shigeo. Front left: Dish by Uezu Shigeo, diam
8 in (20 cm). Front right: Plate by Yamada Shinman. Back middle: Octagonal vase by Teruya
Yoshinobu, ht 9 in (23 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

Fig. 278 Okinawan stoneware. Back left, unsigned, ca. 1850; others by Teruya Yoshinobu,
contemporary, largest ht 8 1/2 in (22 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

Another popular studio potter is third-generation Kyoto ceramist Seifū Yohei

III (1851-1914) (Figs. 267, 268). Because he mainly served the Japanese market,
many of the pieces sold there are 6 inches (15 cm) or less in height though pieces
in foreign hands are commonly a foot or more (exceptional is the 18 inch (45
cm) white vase shown by Spink in 1990) but he was also well known abroad
through expositions. In addition to the interest in Chinese styles imbibed
"intravenously" by Kyoto potters, he achieved monochromes unseen anywhere.
Deeply respected in Japan, he was the first potter appointed to the Imperial Arts
Commission (1893). He used a short mark reading Seifū ("pure wind"). Perhaps
one might say his pots were more restrained and self-effacing than the rather in-
your-face Makuzu Kōzan, but both had ceramic and painterly skills of the
highest order.
Close to the market (mostly peopled by "Victorians"), Makuzu also made
fussy pots around 1881 with incrusted designs that personally I regret, such as
doves and cherries in high relief on vases (see Figs. 13-22 in Miyagawa Kōzan).
Other known studio potter names include Inoue Ryōsai, Fukugawa Eizaimon,
Katō Tomotarō, Suwa Sosan II (famous for celadon and asked by Korea for
guidance in reviving this old Korean staple), and Itō Tōzan.
Foreign Potters in Japan
Bernard Leach has been revered within Japan since the 1920s (and recently in
the UK!) as a seminal artist and potter on a par with the other greats of the
Mingei Movement. Readers are referred to the great Exhibition catalogue of the
British Museum (1980).
Daruma has covered the work of three non-Japanese potters, including
Richard Milgrim (1955-), who mainly makes tea wares in Shino, Karatsu, Oribe,
Seto, and Hagi styles. He has one foot now in the Kyoto countryside and another
in the US.
Gerd Knaepper is German but has spent thirty years in and around Mashiko.
He is famous for winning the Grand Prize of the Education and Culture Minister
for traditional Japanese Ceramics (the first vetted anonymously and so without
bias) in 1971 (his second year as a potter), rebuilding Tarōsaka Manor at Daigo
with ox-eye dormer windows so hauntingly it has graced Architectural
Digest, and for winning public commissions to sculpt works in clay and metal
to adorn bridges, tunnels, and open spaces-as well as Botticelli Venus-type shell
figures and torsos (see Daruma 30).
Edward Hughes went to art schools in England, then spent similarly seminal
time in Kyoto before setting up a kiln on the shores of Lake Biwa and building a
reputation for combining some of the great traditions of England, like slipware
patterns, with the professional standards of Japan. From his current English Lake
District home, he visits Japan regularly with his wife Shizuko for sales at
department stores, so keeps a foot in both camps and his old customers happy.
He uses Shigaraki-like clay with admixtures and has many admirers.
Advice to Collectors
Japanese consider dining important; it should take place in appropriate
surroundings with attractive receptacles. Lacquerware was important (see
Lacquerware) but not silver. Porcelain was vital for the rich and gradually
expanded its market among the middle classes. Some porcelain critics say poorer
painting started ca. 1760 as demand rose and standards slipped. Porcelain only
reached the poorer classes in the Meiji era. Tea people and the more intellectual
folk valued all kinds of stoneware, such as Bizen and Shigaraki, but the main
thrust of polite society was lacquer and porcelain.
Westerners like same-pattern dinner sets, but the Japanese prefer many
different shapes and patterns. At a kaiseki meal (formal and traditional in high-
class restaurants), some 30 dishes will be placed before the guests-all differing in
style and shape. People love the heavenly variety of colors, shapes, and motifs to
complement the tastes dreamed up for the seasonal materials. You may want to
follow this penchant and buy "non-sets."
If the porcelain you buy is dirty or stained, the first step is to wash it with
ordinary detergent and a brush. If this is insufficient, use a powder scouring
agent as it is more abrasive. Really stubborn stains may be taken out with bleach,
but be careful to apply it only to the area in question. If you leave a dish for days
in bleach, overglaze colors may go or cracks could grow into chasms.
Sometimes tissue soaked in bleach and left directly only over a stain works well.
Normally, the Japanese like to repair with visible gold and silver whereas the
British prefer invisible mending. For Japanese, gold mends suggest an owner
cared enough to spend money, but you may prefer not to see the repair. Price and
quality vary widely, so ask around and get a firm quote beforehand. On a dish
bought for ¥10,000 ($85), a restorer asked ¥30,000 for a repair I did not like!
It is acceptable to ask the dealer if a piece has any cracks or mends. If
reputable, (s)he will answer honestly and write the opinion as well. If you spend
quite a lot on a piece or a set (five or ten in Japan), my advice is to get the dealer
to record its condition, period, and area of production, with a view to holding
him responsible if it is false. Of course if he writes in Japanese and you cannot
read it, he may still fool you. An experienced dealer colleague bought a large
bowl deep in the countryside, thinking that the chit written by the dealer said
"Made in the Meiji era." It did not. It said "It is marked as being made in the
Meiji era"-not the same thing at all! It had been made recently and given a Meiji
mark.
 Another note about marks: old porcelain often has "fake" reign marks like
Dai Ming Seika Nensei. This literally means "made in China during the
Seika reign of the Great Ming Dynasty." However, this should not be taken
seriously. A better conclusion is the Japanese kiln wanted the onlooker to
compare it with such famous porcelain. In this sense, marks on the base are
meaningless. Other common ones are Juku and kotobuki, both wishing good
fortune.
To assist with dating, it may be helpful to know that the term Dai Nippon
Teikoku (Empire of Greater Japan) was made the official name of the country in
1889 and rejected after World War II for its militaristic overtones. The term Dai
Nihon!Nippon was used since olden times to refer to important aspects of the
country's history, so it is not as accurate a marker: Teikoku is defining.
"Made in Occupied Japan" (often poorly printed), sometimes seen on the
bottom of, for example, plates indicates a date between 1945 and April 1952,
when the US Occupation ended. Americans collect work with this mark, as seen
in Schiffer's Book for Collectors.
FURNITURE
Traditional Japanese furniture is a new world: novel shapes, patterns,
grains, and metalwork make this field very special. The aesthetic is
somewhat severe (workmanlike might be a better term) and much less
"pretty" than, for example, lacquerware, but as you will see, the
solidity of the wooden panels (not veneer) and the extensive corner
ironwork mark furniture out as a field that will run-for generations.
Several distinguishing marks come to mind. The objectives and so
the shapes of traditional Japanese furniture are miles away from
London or New York. While gun cupboards certainly exist in the
West, they are not something we would drool over as beautifully
made (the Purdy or Winchester in it is a different story) nor write our
names all over them, unlike the sword chest which was often lovingly
and proudly inscribed. The ship's and wheeled chests are other
examples where the Japanese championed impregnable but portable
strength for marine purposes or maneuverability (mainly to escape
fire)-situations unlikely to face middle-or upper-class Westerners-nor
indeed do we use furniture to go upstairs.
Fig. 279 Ship's chest (funadansu) for kitamae-bune (coastal ships plying the Osaka-San'in-
Hokkaidō route), mid-19th c., 16 x 14 x 18 in (41 x 35 x 46 cm). Photo courtesy Gomoku-dō.
Fig. 280 Meoto (husband and wife) chest, Sendai, keyaki front, cedar frame, dated Meiji 40
(1907), ca. 8 ft (2.4 m) wide. Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Note: The author regrets that some measurements (height/length/width) are not available as pieces have been sold or
have moved continent.
Fig. 281 Clothing chest, Tōhoku style, keyakifront,47 x 47 x 18 in (119 x 119 x 46 cm). Private
Collection.

Fig. 282 Bridal chest, Yonezawa, keyaki, dated Meiji 31 (1898), 37 x 441 /2 x 18 in (94 x 113 x 46
cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Early History of Furniture

Before 1600, only prominent people in Japan owned furniture, usually a few
hitsu or wooden containers and nagamochi (lidded trunks). Others had closets
for extra bedding and their few clothes. Peace, however, brought prosperity and
from the late seventeenth century richer merchants owned a few chests. During
the eighteenth century, ownership became more general, as we can see from
woodblock prints. But there were innumerable fires and most furniture you see
for sale today was made after 1850.
The Meiji era (1868-1912) was a great watershed. Before this time, Japan
was a feudal country scarcely linked to the outside world. Later, it became the
leading power in the East, having defeated China and Russia in war, annexed
Korea and Taiwan, built modern industries, and allied itself with Britain.
The earlier Tokugawa shōgun had controlled who could buy particular types
of furniture, for example in the Kansei reforms of 1789. With the Meiji
Restoration, the laws were abolished and the furniture industry blossomed. The
economy grew, people had more possessions to tuck away, horizons expanded,
and men took up Western dress and used new articles. Families turned away
from the old empty rooms, adding a veneer of Westernization.
 The custom of buying furniture when marrying was pronounced. The bride's
family would order a set of furnishings for the new house and two cabinet-
makers would carry the chests there, swung from a pole (hence the handles).
When I jokingly asked an old neighbor if she wanted a chest, she answered, ''I'm
not a bride getting married, my husband's dead of old age." In her mind, buying
a tansu was tantamount to getting married! Nowadays, a newly married couple's
goods include not only durable furniture but also electrical gadgets. They are
carried to the new house on special trucks festooned with red and white bunting-
the colors of good fortune-used for every inauguration in Japan.

Pointers to Dating Furniture

Writing is often found on boxes stored in warehouses or on the drawers and
backs of furniture. You can be lucky and find out exactly where, when, by, and
for whom a chest was made. Another way of guessing the age of furniture is to
remember that the oldest iron nails were hand beaten, but by 1900 the use of
round-headed, machined, Western nails had spread all round the country as they
were cheaper. Rounded plank tops suggest a Taishō date.
People like to see bamboo pegs used, instead of nails, as they do not rust and
appear older, but as bamboo pegs are still made, this is not an infallible guide to
dating. It is also common to see bamboo pegs on most parts of a drawer, and
steel nails where the front is affixed to the other wooden pieces, perhaps because
it would take most strain; bamboo was free whereas nails cost money. There are
also ways of knowing the age of furniture from the joinery techniques and
handles. It has been well studied by foreigners, and the books in English by the
Heinekens, Koizumi, Clarke, Jackson and Owen's Japanese Cabinetry, and the
Seike translation provide a wealth of information about structures, metalwork
techniques, lacquers, and regional styles of furniture.
Dealers often like to say that their goods are from the mid-Edo period. This
era ran from 1603 to 1867 so that would mean about 1750, but very few pieces
made then actually survive for purchase. Most clothing chests available for
thousands of dollars (museum quality pieces apart) were made between 1850
and 1920. Thereafter, veneers became more common so chest durability
declined, as did the aesthetic level. Although this process started twenty years
earlier, Art Deco trends give zest to some veneered pieces and some late pieces
were made with more care-with beveled edges to drawer fronts, for example.
Also, bear in mind that customs and tastes changed at varying rates in the
regions, making dating harder.
Chests (Tansu)
Tansu (chests) are very distinctive. The metalwork can be magic: fine lace on a
Sado chest, gilded moons on a Yonezawa chest, repoussé ironwork on Shōnai
chests, or black scrolling on a Sendai chest. The wood bears colors that Western
cabinet-makers have missed. The most widely used-keyaki ("Oriental elm" or
zelkova)-is quite unlike wood on European and American furniture, while the
shunkei or kijiro lacquer finishes look so lean, it is a miracle the wood is not
naked, yet it is very attractive and durable.

Fig. 283 Wealthy merchant's clothing chest, Yonezawa, keyaki, early 19th c., 42 X 34 X 16 1/2 in
(107 X 86 X 42 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 284 Bridal chest, Sendai, keyaki front, cedar frame, dated Meiji 41 (1908), 40 1/2 X 36 X 18 in
(103 X 91 X 46 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Fig. 285 Bridal chest with double doors, Sendai, keyaki front and cedar frame, late 19th c., 33 x
41 x 17 1/2 in (84 x 104 x 44 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Fig. 286 Chest, Yamagata, keyaki, ca. 1900,46 x 48 x 17 in (117 x 122 x 43 cm). Jensen
Collection.

Chests were made all over the country-wherever there was wood and a
market. Most pieces come from the north and east but a lot were also made in
Kyūshū (those from Ōkawa are very fine) though its styles are less prized. The
forests of Tōhoku and Shinshu had the best wood, and the long winters meant
that men spent time indoors making something of beauty in iron and wood.
Japanese chests have strong ironwork: each corner and drawer, front and
back, is guarded by iron. When moving house, the chests resist knocks. I once
carried one on my car roof and unthinkingly went under a low bridge. Naturally,
the chest was knocked off and landed on one corner, heavily denting it.
However, the surrounding wooden panels were not seriously damaged, so the
whole revived after first aid. Without the iron corner guards, disaster.
Understanding furniture requires knowledge of the woods used, so readers
may refer to the table on page 177.

Clothing Chests
Ishō dansu (clothing chests) come in various shapes and heights to meet
changing needs. Sendai chests are usually lower, wider single pieces, 48 inches
(122 cm) wide and 36 inches (91 cm) high (Figs. 284, 285), though meoto
(husband and wife chests) like Fig. 280 may be wider. Many from other Tōhoku
areas, such as Nihonmatsu and Yonezawa are of the chest-on-chest type with the
two halves of roughly the same height, so separable into his and hers, or to fit
side by side under a window perhaps and let in light (Figs. 282, 283).
Sado chests have resplendent overall lace-like ironwork (Fig. 287).
Matsumoto chests look square and angular, while Shōnai chests have ironwork
with repoussé patterns beaten out from inside, on modest wood but under
beautiful black lacquer; others show attractive wood grain. Tokyo chests are
plainer in color and ironwork, and more often are made of kiri (paulownia
wood).
Unlike those in China or Korea, few Japanese chests have legs, though some
later pieces have an aperture in the base, raising the chest a few inches and
making for a more open look. The bottom frame may be heftier or deeper than
the other structurals to protect the rest from damp. Drawer height tends to taper
upwards, and there may be one or several little drawers near the lockable safe
(kinko) built into most chests (often on the lower right). This "safe" often held
family valuables and perhaps the wife's special savings. Many older chests have
a secret little drawer hiding behind a shorter drawer (kakushi). As this was
widely known, it is not surprising that burglars targeted these first!
Large square or U-shaped handles on the sides are common for carrying
chests. Chest-an-chest types are held together by side handles. This also prevents
the top moving against the bottom half when opening and closing full drawers.
Fit-in handles (they can be raised for use, then hidden) suggest a twentieth-
century date.
The front of a chest is always the center of attraction. Chests were not
designed to be displayed to guests but were often jammed together like wall-to-
wall carpeting. Sometimes they had to fit under hanging cupboards. Because
only the front was visible, the sides and top were relatively neglected. Lovers of
marquetry will not admire other details, such as the rather slapdash attitude to
the joints (there is usually no need for special strength, unlike the beauties on
hibachi which expand and contract daily). However, the fronts of clothing chests
are often visually stunning.

Fig. 287 Bridal chest, Sado Island, early 20th c., 41 1/2 x 411 /2 x 16 1/2 in (105 x 105 x 42 cm).
Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 288 Shōnai chest, paulownia, ca. 1880,42 X 35 X 18 in (107 X 89 X 46 cm). Photo courtesy
Kurofune Antiques.

Fig. 289 Kan'nonbiraki (front opening) bridal chest, North Kantō area, cedar and paulownia, 1868-
80, 42 x 36 x 18 in (107 x 91 x 46 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 290 Kitchen chest, red, black, and brown lacquered, Ōmi, late 19th c., 70 x 68 x 18 in (178 x
173 x 46 cm); Satsuma earthenware on top and dolls at side. Jensen Collection.
Fig. 291 From left: Kan'nonbiraki clothing chest, paulownia; clothing chest divided left and right,
Nihonmatsu, keyaki; hibachi, porcelain, late 19th c. Bentley Collection.
Fig. 292 Kan'nonbiraki clothing chest, Tokyo/Suruga?, paulownia (cleaned), ca. 1900. David
Pabst Collection.
Fig. 293 Ikken-han kitchen chest with slatted doors, Ōmi, all keyaki, ca. 1870, 67 X 100 X 18 in
(170 X 254 X 46 cm); mammiform and dragon spouted porcelain ewers from Imari and Hirado on
top; crested lacquer chest and bingata hanging by Cyndee Seton on left. Author's Collection.
Fig. 294 Kitchen chest with slatted doors, Omi, keyaki drawers, blue and white kasuri (ikat) strip
on side, late 19th c.,67 x 72 x 18 in (170 em x 183 x 46 cm); wooden cake molds on wall. David
Pabst Collection.
Fig. 295 Kitchen chest with slatted doors, Ōmi, keyaki fronts, hinoki structurals, 63 x 55 x 18 1/2
in (160 x 140 x 47 cm). Cyndee Seton Collection.
Fig. 296 Kitchen chest, Shiga Prefecture, hinoki, late 19th c., 67 x 481 /2 x 17 1/2 in (170 x 123 x
44 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

The corners at the back and front are protected by iron wherever there is a
danger of damage. Better pieces also have protective metal studs (atari) to stop
damage when a handle is dropped or hiked roughly. You may see fingernail
marks below handles (especially on kiri chests as the wood is so soft). The
commonest handle shapes are the hirute (Fig. 282), warabite (Fig. 288), kakute
(Fig. 283), mokkō (Fig. 292), and gumbai (literally "water leech, bracken,
square-edged, gourd vine, and sumō fan").
The lock plates are often heavily worked. The commonest designs are
auspicious emblems, such as a phoenix or groups like the crane and turtle (tsuru-
kame), or pine, bamboo, and flowering plum (shōchikubai). The round locking
plates of some Yamagata chests are circled by a thin band of copper alloy
(hakudō). Because this band is shiny, foreigners suspect it is new, even if
original.
Older keys were single-action (you lock by sliding the knob but unlock anti-
clockwise with the key). Later double-action keys become more common (you
use a key to both lock and unlock). With antique locks, you turn the key anti-
clockwise to unlock with one thumb and use your other thumb to help push the
knob to the left or right This is advisable as the keys are of soft metal and break
easily. It makes sense not to lock them and to put the key safely away so little
fingers will not play-finding a locksmith is not cheap! (A second key is great
insurance.) Alternately, the keys can be rendered inoperative by taking off the
lock plate and tying together the expanding element inside with wire. My
cabinet-maker calls this korosu or "killing" the lock. Luckily, death can be
undone by untying the wire! Gate and storehouse locks (jō) are also collectible,
and an article on them appeared in Daruma 38.
Kan'nonbiraki chests have drawers that open outwards (Fig. 289). The name
comes from the little doors in front of the Kan'non (god/goddess of Mercy,
depending on the perceiver) zushi statues common in devout homes long ago.
The chests were used to store kimono and the drawers are invariably made of
kiri to stop mold forming (Fig. 292). Often chest-an-chest, the top half had
kan'nonbiraki locking doors and the bottom had two pull-out drawers. Kiri
develops a brownish patina which many Japanese love; others, with a mania for
purity, sand it off for a pale finish.
Fig. 297 Two-piece staircase chest, hinoki structure, steps, etc. pine, ca. 1890,88 1/2 X 71 X 26 in
(225 X 180 X 66 cm). Jay Burns Collection.
Fig. 298 Staircase chest, Gifu Prefecture, keyaki front, late 19th-early 20th c.,70 X 61 1/2 X 22 1/2
in (178 X 156 x 57 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Kitchen Chests
Mizuya (literally "water room") is the Japanese word for a kitchen chest (Figs.
290, 293-296). They are approximately 6 ft high (183 cm) though chests from
Kanazawa are a foot lower. Common widths are 3, 6, 9, and 12 feet (91, 183,
274, and 366 cm) (sanjaku, ikken, ikken-han, niken). The latter two are
uncommon-only the rich could afford them-and made with superior materials
and skill. The structurals and drawer fronts are often keyaki.
To make them easier to move, the top half has pegs fitting into niches on the
lower half. The halves are not separable because of the pegs. Besides, the lower
half has no top. A memorable adaptation in Mulroney and Lao's book shows the
top half placed high against the ceiling and a food preparation space between
that and the bottom half placed on the floor, with the drawers given a new top.
An alternative, especially if one half is in good condition, but not the other, is to
use only one piece. The lower profile allows one to put it in an entrance hall and
perhaps use it for storing shoes (as a getabako) or as an elegant, ornamental
hall table.
The large storage area behind the doors often held the individuallegged trays
from which people ate while sitting on the floor. These came in non-stackable
sets of 20-40, thus taking up a lot of room. As a mizuya is big, it can be turned
into a drinks cabinet, bookshelf, TV or stereo area, or a dust-free display space
for collectibles. The inside disappears when you close the doors-a nice trick
when guests come. The drawers are handy for storage.
Mizuya with slatted doors are the pride of Ōmi, the area round Lake Biwa,
but doors with one solid, often hand-sawn and perhaps recycled slab of keyaki
are also attractive. Most drawer fronts are of superior wood, such as keyaki,
chestnut, or box (tsuge). Since the doors were slid open and shut dozens of
times a day, the softer wood grooves (unless given hard studs) below them tend
to get worn down. This causes the door to drop, so a little strip of bamboo may
be added to the top to stop it falling out. This remedy does not affect the look of
a chest, so should not detract from its appeal.
Fig. 299 Double-sided one-piece step chest made by Yoshikawa Takashi, Kobe, keyaki front and
steps, ca. 1995, ca., 51 1/2 x 61 in (131 x 155 cm). Char-bone! Collection.

Staircase Chests
The kaidan dansu (staircase chest) is the crowning glory of Japanese furniture
(Figs. 297-299). It is a potential display cabinet rising from the floor to the
ceiling, often with the telltale marks of those who have used it over the years:
scuffed steps and a patina added by oily hands and feet. Fine ones may have a
handrail and some made for palaces (and now in museums) may be double-sided
and made of the best wood, but few reach the market.
In the Kyoto area, a sumptuary tax was imposed on house frontage so there
was a strong tax incentive to keep a house narrow but deep. The staircase
leading to the upper story could take up little space so was built into a side wall
for stability. Sometimes another led to the next floor.
Staircase chests cost $3,000-$30,000. They were originally used for access to
upstairs, so must be tall. Pine and cedar are common materials as these chests
were hidden in the bowels of a farm or house and not used by visitors, though
drawer fronts may be made of keyaki. Brown is the commonest color, though
this has often turned almost black by now. Vermilion was popular, too.
When considering a purchase, remember that staircase chests can go from
left-low to right-high-or vice versa-so consider which you need. Sometimes they
are built on a curve or are steeply slanted to take up less space. Generally, the
length is about 6 ft (1.8 m) and the height 6-7 1/2 ft (1.8-2.3 m). Most tall pieces
are in two parts. The bottom layer of the base may be in poor condition, due to
standing on damp floors.
The Osaka name for step chests is hakodansu ("box chest") because the
deep drawers and cupboard allow a lot of storage, while also getting you
upstairs. You can often justify buying one for just this reason; it holds so much
of what you would rather hide!

Fig. 300 Decorated wheeled chest, Yamagata, chestnut and cedar with unique carving, 18th c.,
45 x 48 x 23 in (114 x 122 x 58 cm). Photo courtesy Mori no Bijutsukan.
Fig. 301 Wheeled chest, Yamagata?, keyaki front, mid-19th c., 35 x 42 x 27 in (89 x 107 x 69
cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Fig. 302 Wheeled chest, Yonezawa, unusually proportioned, solid keyaki front (except for door
back panels), cedar frame, Tempo era (1830-44), 39 1/2 X 51 1/2 X 23 1/2 in (100 X 131 X 60 cm).
Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 303 Wheeled chest, keyaki front, pine sides, cedar drawers, original locking bar (shinbari or
bō), ca. 1870,41 x 48 x 21 in (104 x 122 x 53 cm). Jay Burns Collection.

Many people in Japan and elsewhere buy the smaller, decorative step chests
that have been made in Korea over the last decade or two (and now in China)
and cost $1,000-$3,000. They may come in several different parts which fit
together. Although they are often "prettier," it is important to check if their wood
is seasoned. If not, it may crack in a dry climate or under the strain of central
heating. When you buy a step chest which has survived many decades, you
know that the wood has dried out and should not warp or crack in the future,
unless roasted or frozen.
An alternative solution is suggested by Fig. 299 on page 163; a third-
generation cabinet-maker was commissioned to make an appropriately heighted
double-sided step chest as decoration-holder/room divider, using 70-year-old
seasoned wood and traditional methods, for $4,000.

Wheeled Chests
Kuruma dansu (wheeled chests) are prized and imposing possessions (Figs. 300-
303). They defended a family's heirlooms against fire. Holding gold coins, title
deeds and contracts, and the best kimono, their robust frame could be pushed
through a wall, out into the street for a quick getaway, and pulled along with
ropes attached to loops in the base. Wheeled chests developed from the
nagamochi (large lidded trunks) to which wheels had been fitted. However, they
were too hard to shove or drag so were banned for a time in Osaka, Kyoto, and
Edo after the Meireki fire in 1657. With chests more fashionable, wheeled
nagamochi were downsized and prettified, though often banned again-in theory.
Another defense against fire was the kura (a non-flammable one-or two-
storied storehouse) made with thick mud walls, but no real windows, which was
positioned slightly separate from the main house. Many families lacked the
space to build such a warehouse, so had a wheeled chest. Such chests were
common in Edo until the authorities tried to ban them as streets became choked
with chests during fires, preventing people from running away.
Some of the best wheeled chests were made in Mikuni (Fukui) and were
larger than ordinary clothing chests-at least 4 1/2 ft (1.3 m) high, 4 1/2 ft (1.3 m)
long, and 2 1/2 ft (0.6 m) deep. They commonly have a vertical wooden locking
bolt across the middle drawers, and horns sticking out sideways from the body of
the chest at the top and bottom to make them more maneuverable.
Because wheeled chests are popular, clothing chests often get converted into
kuruma dansu by adding a carriage section underneath. To a purist this is
nonsense, but since the effect is often pleasing and a converted chest is much
less expensive than an original (nicer ones start at $5,000), most buyers do not
mind. As long as you know it is not original, I see nothing wrong with that. New
and smaller, lighter chests are made in Korea and China today and sell for much
less. Yet, an original has something which sets it apart.

Ship's Chests
In the old days, sea captains often owned their mount and were rich. In Japan,
they emphasized this by having underlings carry the ship's papers and coin in a
masculine-looking funadansu, guarded at each corner with iron and protected
inside against shipwreck by kiri drawers which absorb moisture and swell, thus
sealing the documents inside (see Fig. 279). Some of the best ones were made at
Ogi on Sado Island and now cost many thousands of dollars. Many businessmen
also traveled and kept their belongings in ship's chests, including their wares.
There is a wide variety of quality and appearance, particularly as the crew would
have their own too.
Funadansu (or hangai for wider ones, Fig. 306) became so popular ashore
that stores linked to the sea, such as ship chandlers, kept a beautiful chest to
burnish their image. Chests that really went to sea are often bruised and battered
in a way that makes them unattractive for your sitting room.
Fig. 304 Pawnbroker's chest, Fukushima Prefecture, paulownia, 19th c., 43 x 36 x 14 1/2 in (109 x
91 x 37 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Fig. 305 Document chest, Nihonmatsu, Fukushima Prefecture, keyaki, 42 x 42 x 17 in (107 x 107
x 43 cm). Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 306 Ship's chest, Sakata, keyaki, 1850-60, 18 X 32 X 17 in (46 X 81 X 43 cm). Photo
courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

From a collector's point of view, funadansu arouse memories of a different

way of life but also fit rather well into Western rooms as they are small. The
front is roughly 1 ft (30 cm) square and the chest itself only a little deeper.
Placed at the end of a sofa or armchair, it is a great place for resting your drink,
with a coaster if thoughtful. This armadillo of a chest, with its massive
metalwork facade, appeals to men. It is not big enough to threaten, yet exudes
power.
In Tōhoku (for example, at Iwayadō, which crafts great new chests today),
very nice new ones made of keyaki, with complicated door/drawer systems, cost
$10,000-30,000. Naturally, old pieces in good condition cost a lot. Sliding doors
in front of the drawers and various tricks (karakuri) make for higher prices.
A desirable feature in old chests of all kinds, but particularly common in
ship's chests, is a kakushi or hidden drawer. If you take out drawers and find one
is shorter, then probably there will be a space behind the drawer which
holds/held a small box with secret papers or money-evoking dreams of pirates
and Treasure Island.

Medicine Chests
Old apothecaries' chests (kusuri dansu) are much admired, and the numerous
little drawers appeal to the child in us. The chest drawers were mainly made of
kiri for its preservative, damp-defusing qualities. The wood's lightness was also
appreciated by itinerant rural medicine peddlers at a time when the chests were
folded and carried on the back. These chests got knocked round a fair bit, so may
be in poor condition.
 The Toyama area was famous for Oriental herb medicines and chests. Old or
new, you can read the names of the medicines they expected to contain on the
drawer fronts. A look inside will show you if a chest is old or new from the
condition of the wood and the remains of medicine. A chest in my house must
have been inherited by an ironmonger who wrote, for example, 8/10-inch wood
nails and other hardware terms on top of the old ginseng or whatever labels his
grandfather had affixed. Nowadays, they are perfect for holding keys, cassettes,
CDs, and other small bits and pieces any family owns. Many new chests come
from Korea.

Ledger, Sword, Tea, and Other Chests

Japan has been a capitalist country for centuries and chō-dansu, for keeping the
financial score reflect this (Fig. 305). They are called ledger or document chests.
They include both the chōmen dansu, which comes in a vertical style with
kan'nonbiraki doors before shelves, and the lateral form, which developed from
the money box. Both held the daifukuchō (ancient account or daybooks), though
chōba dansu were larger and contained spaces for the suzuribako or writing case
and more ledgers. Different drawers held receipts, payables, and "pending," as
well as other filing cabinet functions needed to run a store. Less exotic than
medicine chests, they are often prettier. One reason is that they were prominently
placed in a store and betokened the store's status. If attractive, they made the
store look good. At the same time, thieving fingers were not welcomed, so
various devices made certain parts hard to open.
Katana-dansu or sword chests are long and low (Fig. 307). Often made of
unadorned kiri, they are as direct as the souls of the samurai who used them. A
typical sword chest is two or three drawers high with a couple of smaller drawers
on the right for the various sword fittings, like the hand-guard (tsuba) and
kozuka (little knives) and menuki (hilt adornments). They are desirable, hard to
find, and often a bit rough, so are not for snobs. A simple one I have bears a
vermilion lacquered address (east of Osaka) and the name of the owner, but no
date; it must be from the late Edo/early Meiji era.
Chadansu (kazari dansu or kazaridana in some places) or tea chests have
some open shelves and shelves hidden by drawers or doors (Fig. 309). The open
shelf often has a decorative shelf (chi-gai-dana) with a swirl connecting two
levels. Later tea chests may have a glass side panel so that a side light helps
illuminate display pieces. A host serving special tea at home could show off
what he wanted and hide from guests the less appealing items.
Fig. 307 Sword chest with two drawers, paulownia, 1860s, 14 x 50 x 12 1/2 in (35 x 126 x 32 cm),
decorated with Imari saké pourers, ca. 1820. Jay Burns Collection.

Attractive woods were used on these chests and the standard of finish is
higher than on clothing chests, perhaps because many were made later (1920s
and 1930s) for rich people in the cities, especially Tokyo (though Toyama
Prefecture made tea chests modeled more like kitchen chests). The wood may be
veneer so lacks the plain strength of solid wood but is made to be admired by
connoisseurs.
Many years ago, my wife and I gave each other for Christmas half of a fine
tea chest as a Christmas present. Later, Bob Haas, a dealer then in Kobe, offered
us a healthy profit: we had each paid ¥65,000 for our "half," so ¥130,000 in total.
He offered twice that and I was tempted. Before he left for New Zealand, he
offered us half a million and I was most willing but my wife said a resounding
"no," and that was that. I have never seen one as good looking, so perhaps she
was right, though there have been close shaves.
Another former possession is small and in Art Deco style with a striking
lightning pattern, half in kiri and half in box. Tea chests seem to have been more
popular in Kantō than Kansai. Typically, Westerners do not fall for them, which
is strange given their utility, price, and the quality of their workmanship.
Decorative cabinets/bookshelves follow Chinese models, offering varying
spaces for vases, tea bowls, or small statues. They make fine bookcases. There
were also honbako or specialized boxes where scholars stored away from the
light or damp complete sets of kabuki texts, for example. Very plain, they are
not so collectible.
Kodansu are small chests and may be in any of the clothing and accounting
chest styles described above. Since they fit in the tiniest hutch, the prices are no
lower than the larger versions for the same quality, and sometimes dearer, as
there are more potential buyers.

Offertory and Money Boxes

As in Christian churches, temple priests put out well-locked offer-tory boxes or
saisenbako into which the faithful could drop money. Smaller petty cash safes
(the "float") are zenibako. The wood is often attractive and the bolts and keys
can be very nice. Safes are called kinko and resemble some ships' chests.
The senryō-bako or money box used in bigger houses was also stoutly built
with wooden bars and heavy bolts. In the old days, quite small purchases
required a long cord of coins strung through the central hole; when not in use,
the coin-strings were kept in money boxes. One I owned had the name of a clan
in Fukui. I remember going into a Hiroshima store (before the antique area of
Dambara was razed) which had dozens, with nice ones costing several thousand
dollars.
Portable writing boxes or kake-suzuri-bako are other evidence of human's
eternal need for wallets, briefcases, and safes.
Fig. 308 Medicine chest, all paulownia, many drawers have remains, was part of a pair with doors
(missing now), 1850, ht 36 in (91 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 309 Tea chest with cherry barked central pillar and persimmon chigai-dana (curving shelf),
keyaki and black persimmon for contrast, Osaka?, 1920s, 59 1/2 X 34 1/2 X 13 1/2 in (151 X 88 X
34 cm). Cyndee Seton Collection.

Charcoal Braziers (Hibachi)

Wooden hibachi (portable charcoal braziers) are very attractive pieces of

furniture, and business people rarely leave Japan without acquiring at least one.
They come in varying sizes, ranging from 12 in (30 cm) square to a 36 x 24 x 12
in (91 x 61 x 30 cm) rectangle (nagahibachi). They can be converted to a
coffee table in a jiffy. Most people put glass over the central copper box or the
whole thing. By so doing, one gets a space above (for glasses, cups, etc.) without
the need to avoid damp or heat rings from liquids, and another below where one
can display items.
On long-used hibachi, the copper may need replacement, but if sound, I
recommend leaving it, as old copper is much nicer than new and does not need
regular polishing. The old copper liners were often expertly made and given
crescent shapes on the side so that they could be easily lifted out. Replacing the
copper is expensive (over $100) and may be hard in countries with no tradition
of hibachi. If the copper is seriously wanting, it may be better to replace or
repair it in Japan. Japanese prefer old-looking copper.
A century ago, foreigners called hibachi"fireboxes" or "braziers," as they
literally contained smoldering charcoal fires to give winter rooms a semblance of
warmth, provide a focal point, and heat a kettle enough to make tea or to warm
saké at a moment's notice when a guest came in (or more likely a customer, as
many of the best were made for shops where they demonstrated that the store
had quality goods, and warmed customers' mouths). Japanese cooked on
kamado (non-collectible low stoves), never hibachi, but some Westerners do
use cheaper hibachi for barbecuing.
The aesthetic appeal of hibachi lies in the quality of the wood, the
contrasting woods used for trim, and the way the corners join. Keyaki with
superb grain is very common and often the detailing is excellent. Contrasting
woods such as ebony (kokutan), rosewood, or persimmon (kurogaki)
surround drawer fronts or the top.
By definition a hibachi is hot and cold by turn: the cabinet-maker must
consider expansion and contraction on a daily basis, so the joints are important.
All kinds of dovetails, tendons, and mortises are used and anybody who
appreciates good cabinetry and wood will be thrilled by hibachi. Another area
you may enjoy is the handles. These are often scalloped or nicely carved from
contrasting hardwoods and are never boring.

Kansai and Kanto Styles

Wooden hibachi were made everywhere but it is customary to divide the shapes
into Edo and Kansai hibachi, irrespective of place of origin. The Edo or Kantō
style features wonderful wood and several drawers in which to keep tools such
as pokers and tongs, or basic book-keeping items like bills and receipts (Figs.
312-314). The firebox lined with copper has no surrounding lip.lt is usually
placed on the left of the hibachi, and to the right is the storage area with poker
box and little drawers. An extra piece of wood often rests on the top right. Since
it is not part of the structure, this slab may have been replaced if a hot kettle or
fiery poker had burnt too many black marks into it. Hence it is often much
younger than the hibachi but is usually colored and grained to match.
The Kansai hibachi has a large lip round the firebox, used as a rest or for
writing on (Figs. 310, 311). The best pieces are judged less on the beauty of the
grain than on the massive thickness of the lip. Generally, a lip much less than 3
in (8 cm) thick is not considered luxurious. On Kansai hibachi, the heavy lip
may be detached from the box to make it lighter for a maid or wife to move. The
charcoal was often lit outside and brought in when the initial noxious gases had
gone. Some Kansai hibachi have no box on the side-the lip covers the whole
hibachi-and these may be called Kyoto style. They make ideal coffee tables as
glass may cover the whole surface. On Edo and Kansai hibachi, discreet use of
rubber or plastic raisers can also provide an all-over surface for a glass cover.

Fig. 310 Hibachi with thick lip, Kansai, keyaki and ebony decoration, and raised legs, Meiji era.
Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 311 Massive hibachi, Kansai, keyaki, and ebony trim with beautiful joints, ca. 1900, 23 x 311
/2 x 13 1/2 in (58 x 80 x 34 cm), lip 3 in (8 cm) thick. Jay Burns Collection.

Very large hibachi are still sometimes made for display or sale. Japanese
stopped making them for use in the 1950s, so if a hibachi has ever been used, it
is likely to be at least that old. However, it is unlikely to be from the Edo era,
since fire destroys. Even if the bottom of the copper box is guarded with
protective refractory clay, double walls, and a space between the central box and
the outside walls, fire gradually burns out from the center. If you look at the top
of the bottom drawers, you may find fire damage in an older or well-used
hibachi. Some of the best have an overall grill of iron to prevent accidents.
Moreover, the top is likely to have burn marks round the firebox, which is why
some are ringed with iron. Many house fires started from hibachi-the material
underneath was tinder-dry and flammable: tatami (rush) matting, a dropped coal,
a child playing, a spark, a wooden house....
Daimyō hibachi are an elegant variation. They are not rectangular, but
square, with four legs curling down to the corner, and are usually of lacquered
wood heavily decorated with metal chasing. A round metal ash-holder slips into
the center. The fire was started outside and brought in by servants when burning
properly and placed quietly in front of the gentleman. Japanese eschew ordinary
wooden hibachi but they will buy this form, perhaps because of its quality
associations and elegance, while Westerners are less attracted-luckily, as they
are rare and expensive.
Another unusual shape is the geisha hibachi. This is usually smallish,
lacquered, and fitted with a built-in tea tray at one end, usually the right. The
ladies sat around waiting to be called to a tea-house. Meantime they smoked,
drank tea, and chatted with friends. In some, the end folded in and out to reveal
spaces for the teapot, caddy, cups, etc. and a tray was provided, They are usually
simple but carry overtones of beauties.
Porcelain hibachi (mostly Imari till Taishō) served the same purpose as
wooden ones (Figs. 315-318). Small ones were made in large sets (a house or inn
often had 10-20 of the same pattern) as a te'aburi had been given to guests for
centuries to provide warmth and a welcoming feeling. Arguably they belong in
the ceramics chapter, but were certainly furnishings in a house. Nowadays, they
make great planters. Larger china hibachi also make tables with glass placed on
top while smaller ones can become waste paper baskets or pen holders. Some
later hibachi are pattern-printed in whole or part, though the artistic level of
hand-painted hibachi is higher.

Lanterns
Andon or lanterns come in many shapes (Figs. 319-321). Their paper shades
prevent oil lamps or candles being put out by gusts of wind and produce a larger
light source and softer, more all-round glow. The shade might be decorated with
letters or scenes. Maruandon (round lanterns) stood on the floor, about 3 ft (90
cm) high, to light corridors in large houses, unlike portable hand lanterns.
The most popular are tall, round, and red lacquered, but black lacquer and
square shapes are commoner. Andon brighten a house. Rechargeable lights can
be put inside to last an evening when guests come, obviating the need for
unsightly cables or making holes in an antique. The larger ones have openings
below the paper through which electric cord passes easily enough, so no drilling
is required. Many are old and have undergone repair while the lacquer may be a
bit worn. Paper lanterns can really give rooms atmosphere!
Fig. 312 Hibachi, Edo, burl keyaki with persimmon trim. Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

Fig. 313 Hibachi, Edo, mainly keyaki with ebony contrast pieces, elegant rounded wood edges,
scalloped handles, ca. 1920. Private Collection.
Fig. 314 Hibachi, Edo, keyaki and persimmon contrast, ca. 1900. Private Collection.

Fig. 315 Three hibachi, hand-painted blue-and-white porcelain, ca. 1890. Photo courtesy
Kurofune Antiques.
Fig. 316 Large hibachi, porcelain, hand-painted with stenciled and unglazed areas, ca. 1900, ht
14 in (35 cm), diam 21 in (53 cm). Jay Burns Collection.

Fig. 317 Large hibachi, Imari, mainly blue porcelain, unmarked, 1930-50, ht 14 1/2 in (37 cm),
diam 20 1/2 in (52 cm). Jay Burns Collection.

Fig. 318 Large hibachi, blue-and-white porcelain with skylights, 1930s, diam ca. 231 /2 in (60 cm).
Private Collection.
 The rotating wall of larger maru-andon allows the wick or candle to be lit
more safely from the side. The paper may not be readily available outside Japan
and it may be as well to buy enough paper (it is not expensive) to replace twice.
This job is not so easy on round ones but square lanterns are a cinch for a
handyman.
Another attractive small lantern is the ariake-andon (ariake means "wan
morning moon"), a square paper-shaded lantern often in a box with windows cut
out in the shape of various phases of the moon-new, mid, and full moon-which
you rotate to get the illumination desired (Fig. 32lleft).
More often seen in pairs in temples are many-sided, bulbous, paper
lacquered shades called bonbori. These are also wonderful, though harder to
find-and more expensive (Fig. 320).
It is easy to see why andon are so loved. Everybody needs lighting, so they
are practical. They are completely unlike Western lamps because they are exotic
(especially the soft paper glow), dramatic, and "lift" their surroundings, lit or
unlit.
Other forms of illumination include myriad forms of hanging lamps in metal
(tsuri-tōrō), as well as shokudai or candlesticks in metal, lacquered or plain
wood. The latter almost all started as pairs. Oil lamps and kerosene lamps find
aficionados, as do early lamps with well-made crystal shades, but it is mostly
Japanese who find them exotic and appreciate the frilly, often pink or powder
blue glass. (Daruma 24 contains an extensive listing of lanterns.) Mirror
Stands and Other Boxes

Kyōdai (mirror stands) have great appeal (Fig. 322). Women are attracted to the
traditional looking-glass and the little drawers for combs, ornaments, and pins.
The mirror section is detachable for easy carriage, slipping into grooves near the
back and held together by an arc-shaped piece of wood which is often finely
carved. Boxwood with very busy, tightly curled yellow and black grain is the
commonest material, though darker woods like quince (karin) and keyaki are
also used. Old poorly reflecting glass may be replaced.
Haribako (sewing boxes) and te-bako (bedside boxes) also appeal to women.
The first often have pin cushions, spaces for the ruler used in measuring, and lots
of drawers. The latter often have an elegant handle in mahogany or bamboo and
four drawers for hair ornaments or other things a lady might want near her bed.
They usually open from behind where a little hole is left through which a female
or little male finger can push the drawer open.
Miscellaneous Furnishings
Tsuitate are room-dividing screens standing some 3-4ft (1-1.2 m) high and often
covered in paper with a landscape or flower and bird design, though bamboo
designs of Mt Fuji or other landscapes are liked. In castles and palaces they were
used to divide rooms for privacy, or to separate commoners and samurai. They
can divide a living-dining room visually, or hide a messy corner and be attractive
in themselves. The Chinese originally liked them as they deflected bad spirits
(who apparently could not go round corners).
Ikō (kimono display racks) are nearly always lacquered but appear in this
chapter because most readers will think of them as furniture due to their size
(Fig. 325). They are tall enough to display a kimono (5-5 1/2 ft, 1.5-1.7 m) and
can be dismantled into seven pieces for easy storage; they consist of the top with
raised ends like a temple roof, the two standing pillars for the sides, a central
brace, the base, and two "feet"-though there may be extra pieces for the feet.
Older racks were invariably kept in a lacquered box, while special textile bags
hold recent ones. The finish may be hon'nuri (real lacquer), Kamakura-bori
(carved, see Lacquerware), or urethane (used only recently).
The form is graceful (I see a bird with outstretched wings and rising wing
tips) and the lacquer red or black. Metal sleeves are usual on the ends of the
better racks, as are scattered family crests in gold lacquer. For those who collect
obi, kimono, futon covers, or other textiles, these racks make wonderful display
spaces, so deserve a place in any home. They take up little space when folded.
Fig.319 Hanging lantern made of glass, with VOC mark and patterns by engraving-chasing,
midlate 18th c., ht 8 1/2 in (22 cm), diam 10 1/2 in (27 cm). Photo courtesy Kobe City Museum.

Fig. 320 One of a pair of large portable lanterns (andon) with bulbous bonbori paper covered with
Nō script and notations, ca. 1900, ht 47 in (119 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 321 Andon holding candles or oil lamps. Left: Ariake lantern has different moon phases for
letting out less or more light. Right: Lantern has stick for raising candle level for lighting, paper has
poem, pine, early 20th c., ht ca. 311 /2 in (80 cm). Private Collection.
Fig. 322 Mirror stand, burl ash (tamo), 1920s, ht 43 1/2 in (110 cm). Private Collection.
 The previous shape may have an additional bar below the top crosspiece and
be called a palace rack (goten ikō), while those with no central strut are bichō-
dai. Hachodai have a double central column but no side supports (the last two
are mainly for shops).
A Meiji variation is the hinged rack for room corners that appeared when
Western clothes came into fashion, such as jackets. They are made of simpler
materials, such as carved, unfinished, or painted wood. They may be of poor
quality but have useful metal hooks. Materials would be folded and put on the
lower, swiveling bars. Many open 180 degrees and can be put up on bathroom
walls as towel racks, or folded into corners. Better ones may have painted or
lacquered images on the bottom panels. The very smallest are less than a foot
(30 cm) high and were used for drying little cloths, headbands, towels, etc. Plain
wood racks suit country living and wooden walls. Many racks have sinuous
curves and nice pictures; the best low-priced corner racks are an outright steal!
Kyōsoku (elbow rests) made sitting on the floor more comfortable, and were
available in every inn and better house (Fig. 323). When an inn went out of
business recently and their inventory was auctioned, I begged the auctioneer to
divide the lot: who wants 40 elbow rests? Even in four lots, it was too many!
Tabaka bon (smoking trays) attract connoisseurs through their jointing and
grain (Fig. 324 front), with their delicacy and long pipes or massive keyaki slabs.
Smoking was an important social lubricant and the trays were made to be
admired as well as used.
Okamochi (food delivery boxes) were used by restaurants that served
customers in their homes (Fig. 324 back). There were often two or three levels
for different foods. A lid covered the top level. They were well made and
attractive items in their own right.
Inspired by seventeenth-century Dutch designs, Japanese made lantern
clocks (yagura dokei) for daimyō and temples, but these are hard to find.
Attractive wall clocks were made after 1873 when Western time came in (Fig.
327). They are cheap and under-valued!

Transoms, Hearth Hooks, and Lecterns

Ramma are carved wooden transoms placed above head height between rooms
and over doorways (see Fig. 401). They are pierced and let air and light move
freely between rooms. Their graceful designs enhance the owner's standing.
Many good ones were made in Osaka. The better and more intricate the carving,
the dearer they are, but simple pieces are cheap. Westerners can place them high
against walls so the design shows up against paint or wallpaper, or put them on a
table and add glass, to protect the carving which is three-dimensional and bi-
sided (mirror image). A few hundred dollars for a pair seems very low if you can
find a way to use them.
Jizai-kagi were common in country homes which still had a hearth area.
They are adjustable-height hooks, often with a fish-shaped block (costly, if old),
which hang down from a ceiling beam over the fire. In Kyushu and elsewhere,
metal or bamboo-encased iron hooks are common. They evoke smoky old
farmhouses and look great in a corner holding a pot or kettle. Nowadays, some
fish and hooks are of recent Southeast Asian manufacture but still appeal, when
well carved. If old, the bamboo may be cracked and held together. If the surface
is attractive and the fix looks permanent, then I see nothing wrong. You may see
hand patina where the wife held it. Susu-take is the name for old sooty-with-
smoke bamboo, which is much admired by Japanese.
Kendai are lecterns used in theaters for a jōruri or bunraku reciter to rest
his script on. Many seem to have been made in Shikoku, perhaps because of the
puppet theater tradition there. Simple wooden ones are modest in price but
interesting uses can be found for them: Australian Ambassador John McCarthy
finds a simple one perfect to display his icons! Beautifully lacquered large ones,
with long tassels and bearing armorial crests, will cost several thousand dollars.
Such lecterns fold up to fit in a traveling box.

Fig. 323 Elbow rests, plain red wood (left) and Tsugaru speckled lacquer (right), 1920s?, 9 X 16 X
7 in (23 X 41 X 18 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 324 Left back: Lidded food delivery box (okamochi) (most have no handles), 1930s. Front:
Two fine smoking trays (front), keyaki, ca. 1900, 19 x 18 x 10 in (48 x 46 x 25 cm). Author's
Collection.

Fig. 325 Kimono rack (ikō), lacquered wood, 1920s, 60 x 68 x 13 1/2 in (152 x 173 x 34 cm).
Author's Collection.

Fuzukue or writing tables were made for scholars sitting on the floor, so are
low, and have a space in the middle for legs and several drawers. The wood may
be rough and ready or exquisite keyaki. Similar temple tables with no drawers
are called nigatsudō after the Nara temple, linked with preparing for the O-
Mizutori ceremony.
Jōkō-ban and kō-dokei (incense clocks respectively in temples and homes)
are rare and interesting (Fig. 326). Wood with notched grooves is placed on old
ash and covered with a grating to guard against drafts and let out incense smoke.
Each notch was a time unit. Incense burns at a regular pace so monks or incense
party guests noted the time elapsed since it was lit. Below are drawers for
incense and raking and lighting tools. Jōkō-ban may be tiered, so separable into
three pieces. The whole may be rough and ready, lacquered or finely finished
keyaki, with attractive kiri drawers. Links with ancient temple smells and
incense gatherings, where guests vied to form the best scents, make clocks
dream-formers.
Tea boxes were used to store and ship green tea. Recent ones may be lined
with metal to prevent humidity affecting the tea. By themselves they may not
look good but foreign women cover the boxes with fabric or washi (Japanese
paper) and make them attractive and collectible; they are useful and personally
satisfying!

Shop Signs, Steps, and Chairs

Kamban are shop signs (Fig. 329). Advertising is a very old custom in Japan
and pharmacists, in particular, invested heavily in signs. The government tried to
control size and gilding but kamban started centuries ago and were important
when not everybody could read; most had recognizable symbols (like a brush for
a store selling writing materials, or candles, or dolls, where suitable).
My favorites are saké store signs which were made till recently and still hang
above protected sakaya lintels, but pharmacy signs are more common. An
owner may not want to tell you exactly what medicine is being pushed, as many
extol the virtues of a tonic for "women's diseases," diarrhea, or venereal disease.
Their gilding and sweeping writing style are magnetic, as often the best
calligraphers (even rival pharmacists with a great hand) were paid to do the
writing. New ones are common, and if the condition is impeccable, they are still
worth collecting. Recently there has been interest in metal signs, too, which were
often made in long vertical shapes (Fig. 330). Drinks and pills are the most
common goods noised abroad.

Fig. 326 Incense clock, all keyaki; holds persimm on lacquer slot cleaner of great patina, 1850, 13
x 10 x 10 in (33 x 25 x 25 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 327 Seikōsha (manufacturer) clock with wood veneer inlays, 1930s?, 18 x 11 x 3 in (46 x 28
x 8 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 328 Snow country sledge (sari), for carrying children or supplies, early 20th c., 47 in (119 cm),
in front of folding screen in wood and bamboo, 1930s. Bos Collection.

Housewives or shopkeepers used fumidai or portable steps to reach high

shelves. The wood may be rough and ready, though more finished pieces exist.
Most have two or three steps so are about 20-30 in (50-76 cm) high and are
really cheap. Inside is a space used for storing odds and ends, or for refuse. Cats
and dogs have a fascination for these tidy-holes bordering on the fanatical; cats
may find them a dream home!
Kyokuroku are prelate's chairs (Fig. 332). When a new head priest moves to
a temple, a ceremonial chair for preaching sermons from or speaking at funerals
is often ordered. Of Chinese origin, a priest's chair is lacquered in vermilion and
gilt. The seat is of leather and folds for easier carriage, as does the step, as
outdoor sermons were given on holy days in temple compounds. With luck, the
name of the temple and date may be on the back. Many are not that old but the
shape and color are stunning. If the leather needs work, try to get it done before
leaving, if living in Japan. Elsewhere the leather may be cheaper, but the skills
may not be there.
Other desirable but rare collectibles are the sari (sleds) used in snowy winter
Tōhoku (Fig. 328) and yagura, little wooden towers, used for advertising or for
fire warnings. Another yagura form is the platform holding a downward-facing
electric heater (kotatsu), which was covered by a quilt; this kept in heat and
attracted cats like wasps to apples, though are scarcely used today (Fig. 331).
They make interesting coffee tables and are cheap, if not that old.

Advice for Collectors

From a practical point of view, furniture is highly usable but bulky. If you own
your house or are in a position to have your furniture shipped to the next abode
by yourself or an employer, it makes sense to buy several pieces, as shipping
will be cheaper per item and they will last for generations. Japanese furniture is
underpriced compared with old furniture from other countries. Not only are old
pieces original but they are also very durable because they use thick, solid wood
and have metal corners.
Some people who have lived and worked in several countries, and acquired
things there, have decided to make one Japanese room and limited themselves to
what fits in that. Others feel that Japanese furniture is too exotic to go with their
existing furniture. The commonest course is a mix-and-match policy: find pieces
that do not clash with existing color schemes and let multinational coexistence
flourish. If you do not yet own much, buying Japanese furniture can be great
fun-and a good investment to boot!
It is true that finding very high quality pieces is harder with each passing
year, but that is an invitation to start soon, not prevaricate. As with all collecting,
buying finer pieces makes sense in the long run but many families may feel that
something for a den or children's room can start a little battered, as it will
become that anyway. When new, and occasionally later, bugs may get into
wooden furniture so it is best to check; some dealers automatically fumigate
before selling. Bugs tend to leave holes where rice was used to glue two bits
together as it is not only humans in Japan who like rice! If you find little stacks
of dust, act quickly but there is no need to worry as bugs can be got rid of
quicldy with sprays.
The fact that you use a clothing chest morning and evening all your life and a
kitchen chest all through the day, means that their cost is very low in relation to
their use, so it is easy to rationalize that tansu are cheap. At our home, my non-
hung clothes fit in one deep Sendai chest in our bedroom, while my wife finds
three assorted chests too few for hers.

Genuineness
On most chests with iron plates, the area near the plates got blackened when the
housewife wiped the whole piece since some ironwork black was carried over
onto the surrounding surface. If no black is to be seen, the plate has recently
been changed or all the metalwork was taken off and the whole front refinished.
Black can be added artificially so its presence is not conclusive proof of age.
Quite often the locking bar of chests is lost (to be more exact the husband
threw it away, early in the chest's life, as it can be a nuisance if you use the
drawers behind it every day and are prone to losing the key). Replacements are
common. They look newer and the metal may not match the rest of the chest
while the bar will not have the scratches on the inside. Knowing the reason, I do
not consider this too serious. For my never-locked clothing chest, the bo or
shimbari is stored at the back of a low drawer, out of harm, damage, or memory's
way.
Other areas to look at are the bottom and back where there may be evidence
of tampering or replacement. A fragile part of a chest with a "safe" is the door
hinge. Hinges were weak and primitive. Commonly the door has been kicked for
not opening or closing properly, so the door fell off and was discarded, till resale
was considered. The kaidashi-ya who came to the farmhouse to buy the chest
would arrange for a replacement door; the wood itself, its color and the
metalwork may not match properly. Other possibilities are described in Rosy
Clarke's book.

Caring for Furniture

There are various theories about looking after furniture. One friend swears that
the best finish and sheen is achieved with camellia oil, but that is hard to find.
Another traditional material derives from the oil secreted by insects. In the old
days, houses were drafty and humid most of the year so Japanese women wiped
wooden furniture with a damp cloth. Over the decades, this combined with a
little oil from fingers (or feet on staircases) to give the surface of simple pieces a
wonderful patina.
My cabinet-maker says that dusting with a dry cloth (karabuki) is suitable for
every item. Moist cloths are fine in moderation for most furniture but can cause
splotchy baldness in some finishes as essentials (like volatile substances and the
glue or nikawa in Indian ink) may be lost and patchiness in the color may occur,
especially with multiple or prolonged cleaning. Wet cloths also run the danger of
collecting particles of dust which then scratch other surfaces. Lacquer finishes
hate friction as it damages the surface. For this reason, avoid harsh detergents of
any kind.

Fig. 329 Shop signs (kamban) for pawnbroker, pharmacy, writing brush shop, etc., wood, ca. 1900.
Bos Collection.

Fig. 330 Advertising signs, metal. Left to right: Kina Saffron Saké, Hanazono Brandy, and
Hanagata Shōchū (a distilled liquor), 1930s, ht 51 1/2 in (131 cm). Author's Collection.

A coating of wax never hurts furniture (quite a lot of tansu have wax-based
finishes, like the mirror finish of some Sendai and other chests), if it is kindly
applied. An old method was to rub on nuka (rice bran) whose oils give a glossier
finish. The same informant uses a petroleum-based varnish to "refresh" articles.
This acts like "scratch cover" in the West used to gloss over little scratches and
give a brighter finish. Lacquer is among the toughest finishes known to man, so
will resist most chemical unkindness, but if the skin is broken, damage may
occur through those cracks.
 Lacquered pieces hate to become dry. Closed display cases with little water
jars are convenient for humidifying lacquer. All bamboo products dislike
dryness and soon split in extreme aridity.

Fig. 331 Platform for downward-facing heater (kotatsu yagura), formerly covered by a quilt, but
forming neat table shape, pine, ca. 1950, 12 x 31 1/2 x 31 1/2 in (30 x 80 x 80 cm). Author's
Collection.
Fig. 332 Senior priest's folding chair (kyokuroku), early 20th c., ht ca. 39 1/2 in (100 cm). Private
Col lection.

Woods Used in Japanese Furniture

Hard Woods
Keyaki. Zelkova or Oriental elm. The grain of this highly prized cabinet-
making wood can be straight, wonderfully curved in sinuous rills, or tightly
swirled in the burl, and close-grained or widely spaced, depending on its cut
or locus on the tree.

Kuri. Chestnut. Similar to keyaki in grain, it is the second most prized

material. It resists rot, so was used for railway cross-ties.

Sakura. Cherry. As the tree lives long without forming a large trunk, it has a
close grain and is used for smaller work and detail. The silvery bark may be
kept or reaffixed on posts.

Medium Hard Woods

Hinoki. Japanese cypress. It has a straight, less prominent grain, can take a lot
of strain, and is used for structurals and tokonoma pillars. Japanese feel it has
a fine skin, so it is common on Buddha images. It is easily workable, so is
used for combs, etc.

Kurogaki. Black persimmon. The wood is valued for combining near-black

and honey stripes and is used to contrast with keyaki, especially round
hibachi fireboxes and drawers. Black striations are said to be increased by
applying iron to the trunk before felling.

Kusunoki. Camphor. This is uncommon, but occasional one-off pieces show

a very interesting grain. Because it is a large tree, big pieces are used in
tokonoma, boats, etc. It was also used in drawers where its insect-repelling
quality was valued.

Kuwa. Mulberry. This is not so common but is seen on ornamental shelves

and tebako. Because it is hard to work, only master craftsmen used it.
Kuwada and meguwa are almost undetectable if stained, but softer and
cheaper.

Sen. A close relative of keyaki (most joiners do not know the difference), its
grain stands out less and the wood is whiter.

Tamo. Ash. This northerly tree is harder if white, softer if red. It is used in
game boards and baseball bats.
Tochi. Horse chestnut. This takes a high polish and is used, for example, on
telephone tables and china cupboards, but not much in fine cabinetry. It is
edible and has been eaten in famines, after careful washing, and in "cakes"
(tochimochi). Some lumber is tatami-mat huge (72 x 36 in, 183 x 91 cm).

Tsuge. Boxwood. A little tree, the wood is used on smaller pieces like
toilette mirrors and combs, but not much in big furniture. It has a tight curled
grain and is used extensively in carving netsuke. A yellowish color like old
ivory is common.

Plain Woods

Kaya. Japanese nutmeg. This is used for shōgi and igo boards but is not
common in furniture.

Matsu. Pine. Harder than cedar, this commonest wood forms the sides and
backs of most furniture. Its resin is called yani and may continue to ooze out
long after a tree has been cut down. The matsu-kui mushi (pine weevil) has
devastated Japan, so old, large pines are now scarce and famous groves
decimated.

Momi. Fir. Used for boxes (e.g. round the inner scroll box), it is valued for its
whiteness and its lack of smell (good for food).

Sugi. Japanese cedar or cryptomeria. It has an attractive reddish-brown core

and cream-colored pap wood. It is often used in drawers as it deters bugs and
smells pleasant. There are many varieties, like Kitayama-sugi.

Soft Woods

Kiri. Translated as paulownia (from Russian), it can be nearly as light in

weight and color as balsa. Japanese love its tactile softness and warmth, and
its moisture absorption. They use it where humidity is feared, for storing
kimono, for example, to prevent mold during the rainy season. Many small
drawers are made of it, as in hibachi. The tree does not grow much in
northeastern Japan so kiri was little used on Sendai chests till inter-regional
trade became feasible. The north-facing side of kiri is used to make koto (13
stringed instruments), as it is harder and has narrower grain.
Imported Woods

Known as karaki, these are "Chinese" or other woods imported from Asia and
sometimes Central America.

Karin. Quince. It is rather similar to shitan, but cheaper. All three tended to
be bought by weight, not surface area. Quince fruit is harvested in Japan, but
lumber is usually foreign.

Kokutan. Ebony or blackwood. Harder still, it has a kind of metallic ring to it

when knocked.

Shitan. Rose or sandalwood. This is a hardwood used for decorative items. A

variant, koki, is a hard "red wood" used for making the stems of shamisen.

Tetsuboku or tettoboku. Ironwood or tagasayan. Unbelievably heavy wood, it

is sadly nearly extinct and was rare even long ago.

Much teak, mahogany, and lauan is imported but I hesitate to say readers
should buy things made from them in a field where so much is still available
in traditional timbers.

Cutting Techniques

The cut of a tree is very important in making good furniture. Where you have
big wavy patterns in keyaki, for example, the cut is itame and where the
grain is in long lines, the cut is masame. Cabinet-makers like to contrast the
two. If a big swirly piece is in the middle, then the surrounding panels will
most likely be masame. If keyaki is used all over (Fig. 293), this is
considered to be very high class, especially given the required width. The
sides of the supporting pillars have swirly grain. Sō-keyaki or sōgiri
describes a piece made completely on the outside of keyaki or kiri. Usually
only the front was made with expensive timber (e.g. mae-giri, only front is
kiri) and the sides and back were made of cheap wood.
TEXTILES

To misquote the old song, "Love and marriage, love and marriage,
just go together like a horse and carriage. You can't have one, you
can't have none, you can't have Japan without kimono." The word
"kimono" has infiltrated as deeply into our consciousness as Mt Fuji
and geisha. Yet there is a bifurcation of interpretation. To Japanese,
the word basically means "garmene"-something you wear-with a
subtext that it is uniquely Japanese), while its form and materials
varied enormously over time. Westerners associate it with silk, luxury,
long sleeves, and "Oriental" designs) as often seen in the following
pages (though Americans are sometimes conned into buying kimono
bathrobes that would shock purists). This chapter may persuade you
that the variety of garments goes well beyond the standard image of
kimono.
Fig. 333 Woman's kosode (short-sleeved kimono), with Kama Shrine Horse Race (Kyoto, May
5th annually),yūzen and tie-dyeing, embroidery, 18th c., length 50 in (127 cm). Photo courtesy
Kyoto National Museum.

Introduction and History

Clothing is as old as Man but, unfortunately, does not resist time and wear, so
we do not know exactly what prehistoric people wore. The oldest textiles extant
in Japan are kept in the Shōsōin, near Nara, but this 756 imperial collection
mainly comprises court and priestly clothes. From pictures and court documents,
we know quite a lot about clothes in the following centuries, while from the
sixteenth century numerous examples of Nō, court, and warrior dress remain,
generally of heavy, high-class materials.
These are the clothes we know about in the West: sumptuous brocades and
gaily colored silks. The clothes of poor people, however, were usually worn out
and discarded-or recycled-yet these are equally fascinating and some of their
techniques and qualities will be described later under Sashiko and bast fibers.
In previous centuries, in summer, a woman wore a colorful unlined silk
kimono with an obi round her waist held by an obijime or obidome, and white
tabi (socks) on her feet which would slip into zori sandals on going out.
Nowadays, she would wear underpants but these rather mar the beautiful line of
kimono. In winter, she would wear a lined kimono of heavier material and would
add a coat. There are variations, of course, for very formal occasions and
funerals. Country women might wear baggy trousers brought in at the ankle
called mompe and a short top called a hanten.
A man wore a plain colored kimono and obi, pleated trousers (hakama)
which come together like a skirt, and a jacket (haori). On his feet he wore dark
tabi which slipped into wooden clogs called geta. While working or at home in
summer, he might wear knee-length shorts and a jimbei (short summer jacket)
above, or a yukata (long cotton kimono). Yukata have become fashionable
again among young men and women for summer and party wear. Other clothes
include a short coat called han ten or happi (often advertising a store, firm, or
product), a housewife's overall apron, and the quilted chanchanko which kept
your back from freezing in winter as you sat by a hibachi or kotatsu (they only
warm the front).
The materials making up a kimono include every variety of silk, wool, and
cotton but in the old days materials were more likely to be linen and others
derived from wild fibers, covered later.

Silk Kimono

The kimono best known in the West are the long-sleeved furisode (Figs. 334,
335), short-sleeved kosode (Fig. 333), wedding kimono (uchikake-a term used
also for some over-kimono), the softer under-kimono or juban, and the short
jacket or haori (Fig. 341). People also collect the short silk jacket for men which
is black and bears the family crest (montsuki). Every family owned a few or
many kimono depending on their finances. Nowadays, they are mainly used by
older people, entertainers, and people involved in the traditional arts of tea,
flower arrangement, kabuki and Nō (Figs. 337, 339), who feel that ordinary
Western dress is not dignified enough or appropriate for their art or way of life.

Fig. 334 Furisode (long-sleeved kimono), with Mt Fuji and Miho Matsubara Moor, silk, ca. 1920,
length 67 in (170 cm). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 335 Furisode, with sudare (rattan sunscreen) and tachibana (oranges), white figured satin
(shiro-rinzu), 18th c., length 65 in (165 cm). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 336 Woman's kosode, nando (grayish deep blue), with misu (interior bamboo screen), kichō
screens, and autumn grasses, chirimen (silk crepe), 18th c., length 64 1/2 in (164 cm). Photo
courtesy Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 337 Kabuki uchikake (over-kimono), with wisteria, pine trunk, and maples, silk, 19th c.,
length 73 in (185 cm). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 338 Uchikake, with hawk and dragon, silk, 18th c., length 57 in (145 cm). Photo courtesy
Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 339 Surihaku Nō costume, with flowering plants and cypress-strip fans on clematis
arabesque ground, embroidery and silver-leaf imprint on white satin, early 19th c., length 58 in
(147 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 340 Katabira summer kimono, with chrysant hemums and palm leaves (the radial lines),
linen, 17th c, length 61 in (155 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 341 Haori (short jacket), leat her, ca. 1850. Photo courtesy Mori no Bijutsukan.

Millions of kimono have been made since the Meiji Restoration of 1868 and
most were not worn out, especially as artificial fabrics have become common.
When elderly women die and their kimono are sold, there is no natural buyer,
given the traditional fastidiousness about clothing used by others. As a
Westerner, it is easy to say that kimono can be worn as a bedroom cloak or
bathrobe or for lounging around the house, but within Japan there are still
accepted patterns that make it hard to use kimono in non-traditional ways. The
situation is sclerotic: the knowledge of how to wear the right kimono co-exists
with the knowledge that there are a thousand ways not to wear it!
This dichotomy-knowing how it should be worn, combined with the
realization that nothing meets those conditions-makes used kimono a bargain. A
new silk kimono costs thousands, but may go for under $100 at flea markets in
Japan. If kimono have been shipped overseas for Westerners, they do cost a lot
more, yet never approach the production cost.
As renting a kimono is common (the main occasions are the Shichigosan
Festival, New Year's Day, the Coming-of-Age Ceremony, and weddings),
department stores have seasonal sales of no-longer-new rental kimono and obi at
reasonable prices ($50-400).

Kimono Size
If you plan to wear the clothes you buy, not just admire or display them, you
should be aware that size matters. Kimono are traditionally made from a bolt of
cloth some 36 ft (11 m) long and 13 in (33 cm) wide-enough for an adult's
garment.
Kimono are stitched together rather loosely (for cleaning they were formerly
unstitched each time) and traditionally the full width was used, not cut; this is
why the sleeves seem full as they are 13 in (33 cm) wide. Extra material may be
hidden in the seams (children's garments are tucked in at the shoulder and waist
so that they can be let out as needed).
In principle, kimono are just one size-S in (20 cm) longer than the height of
the wearer-but in practice there is a wide variation in length and waist size. Used
kimono may be long enough for you to wear, as excess length was often tucked
up at the waist. If a wearer was very short, the extra material would be stored
under the obi. Japanese women, for whom the kimono was made, tended to be
slim and not large breasted, so it is important to check that there is enough width
for a fuller Western figure. Young girls wore kimono with long sleeves-furisode-
and these form one of the main collectibles. Married women wore kimono
whose sleeves are markedly shorter and with less striking patterns and colors, as
they were not expected to flaunt their charms. Most people will find patterns and
materials for much older women pretty boring, even as a gift, as they are
deliberately self-effacing.
Fig. 342 Obi twisted into an original design for a wall hanging. Jay Burns Collection.
Fig. 343 Obi folded over an ikō (kimono rack) to form a wall hanging. Jay Burns Collection.

Obi

Women's obi (kimono sashes) are 10-13 feet (3-4 meters) long and 6-9 inches
(15-23cm) wide. Functionally, their role is to obscure the unsightly ties which
hold the kimono together since the garment has no buttons, and provide a
matching/contrasting focus. Good obi are made of silk brocade and are
extremely handsome. The back may be plain or the same pattern and reversible,
or with a different but equally attractive pattern on the back. Obi were often
more expensive than the kimono itself! This is reflected in sayings that they
should be better than the kimono, and also be more numerous (owning three obi
for every kimono was normal).
Women's obi come in two main shapes. The thick, standard obi is called
maru obi (Fig. 343), while the Nagoya obi is folded for part of its length and
less massive. It is economical of material and the middle part is devoid of
patterning so is less favored by collectors. (As an aside, Nagoya folk are
considered stingy.) Putting on an obi is difficult and girls have to go to school to
master the art as well as learn how to put on the kimono itself. The whole
operation can take a long time, though I am told that taking them off is much
quicker-luckily for lovers. A girls' obi knot commonly resembles butterfly
wings, while adults use a simpler folding pattern. The obi is tied behind the
wearer and the front shows a smooth, flat surface with a securing cord running
over it right round the waist. Like bow ties for men, modern obi may be pre-
tied.
A man's obi is usually a nondescript stiff, striped material 3-4 in (8-10 cm)
wide and tied in a half-bow. Another pattern is a very long and wide piece of
soft dark silk, sometimes plain, sometimes tie-dyed. It goes round the waist at
least twice and scrunches up into a thin round belt, which is tied or tucked in on
itself. These are scarcely collectible though adequate for bathrobe yutaka.

Fukusa

Fukusa are presentational fabric gift wrappers, roughly 24 inches (61 cm)
square, which honor the taste of both giver and receiver. They were often
returned, but could also be intentional gifts in themselves, depending on social
standing and the reason for the gift (for example, if it was from a noble or on the
occasion of a boy turning thirteen and so one step on to manhood).
Fukusa were allied to tastefulness and status. Threads included gold, silver,
and red for opulence, rough twine (to give the special effects of, say, bark),
shimmery fine silk for show, or wrapped thread for bulk. Sewing skills covered
the gamut and are beyond a general book but include an embossed or built-up
effect, tsuzure— ori (figured brocade or slit tapestry where all leftover thread is
hidden away in a seam, for example, or on corners). With changing times,
sumptuary laws, regions, individuals, tastes, and availability of materials,
fukusa turned either subdued or became flashier. Somber periods include the
1790s and 1870-80.
Fig. 344 Obi with shells and flower patterns on a corner ikō. David Pabst Collection.

As with futon covers, motifs on fukusa include auspicious groups like the
"three friends of the winter cold" (shōchikubai or pine, bamboo, and plum, that
stay green through the hardest winter and so symbolize persistence), Buddhist
treasures like flaming pearls, the seven lucky gods and their attributes on
treasure ships from Hōrai (paradise), cranes and tortoises (said to live 1,000
years), carp (symbolizing persistence and so success) (see Fig. 18), bats (for
their elegant shapes and mysterious lives), and imaginary beings like hō-ō
(Oriental phoenixes), shōjō (inebriated monkeys), imperial dragons, and long-
tailed turtles. Other motifs include shapes like noshi (parcel wrappers associated
with personal humility while exalting others) and mythic stories like Shiba Onkō
who saved his friend from drowning by decisively breaking the water jar he had
fallen into. Typical gift occasions reflect life's milestones-entering school and
passing tests, weddings, the appearance of heirs, retirement, festivals, and the
New Year.
Many old fukusa have missing threads and imperfections from years of use.
If this worries you, look at the modern but down-market derivative, furoshiki,
still wrapping gifts from fine stores. Few fukusa are made today: too little time
or just costly.
Fig. 345 Bashōfu (abaca cloth) kimono, with vertical stripes of popular design, Okinawa, ca. 1900,
length 54 in (137 cm). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 346 Maiwai (fishing catch congratulatory textile), with Kashima dancing, Sotobō, Chiba, late
19th c. Photo courtesy Morino Bijutsukan.

Fibers, Weaving, and Dyeing

The raw materials and the weaves are important variables. Westerners are often
less interested in the latter as most weaves are common to mankind. However,
kasuri (ikat elsewhere in Asia) exerts a special fascination. Special weaves
include tsuzure ori (tapestry weave), nishiki (a multicolored patterned weave),
Kara-ori (literally Chinese weaving, which looks embroidered and is common in
Nō theater), and tsujigahana (a stitched tie-dye base with added gold or silver
leaf, ink painting, and silk embroidery).

Wild Fibers or Basts

Many fibers were collected, processed, and spun into thread, such as hemp (asa
in Japanese but various wild grasses shelter under this word) and ramie, a low
tree from whose bark a hemp-like cloth can be made. Ramie is a Malay word
which has come into English; it is pronounced raemi or reimi, and called jōfu in
Japanese.
Thread-banana or abaca cloth (bashōfu, associated closely with Okinawa)
(Fig. 345), paper mulberry trees, and vines such as kuzu and wisteria all form a
group called "bast fibers" by specialists. The latter two are stringier and less
malleable but they all come from plants growing wild, with a hard outer skin and
core which becomes soft if carefully processed.
These were the normal fibers of people in the poorer countryside. Nowadays,
we tend to think that indigo-dyed cotton (aizen momen) was the norm but this
was true only from the nineteenth century. Indeed, cotton was sometimes
forbidden earlier, such as in a 1724 edict. Many country people wore brown, as
that was the color of the natural fibers and obviated costly dyeing.

Fig. 347 Tsutsugaki textile, with cranes and pines on board backing, 1930s, 63 x 63 in (160 x 160
cm). David Pabst Collection.

Dyeing Techniques
The normal way of dyeing good kimono is called yūzen after its reputed late
seventeenth-century inventor, Miyazaki Yūzen, of Kyoto; the skill is still
centered in its Nishijin area. It allows fine lines and great artistry to be applied to
textiles (Fig. 336).
A detailed design is hand-drawn on fabric with a tracing fluid derived from
the tsuyukusa plant and the lines covered with rice paste. The entire surface is
covered with soybean milk to sharpen the lines during dyeing. Colors are painted
onto the fabric with a brush when dry. Those patches of color are covered with
paste-resist made of rice and the background color applied. The dyes are fixed
by steaming. The cloth is then rinsed at length in running water to take out the
tracing liquid and rice paste. When the material has dried, the dyer can add
stencil patterns and embroidery. Thus yūzen may only be the basic dyeing
method. Yūzen is the technique of choice for fine designs but its many processes
take hours of skilled work and add to the cost of the finished product.
Since Heian times, when lady courtiers wore jūni-hitoe (twelve-layered
kimono), just showing a tiny patch of different color on the various layers at the
neck and wrists, Japanese have accepted high prices for luxury. Katazome
(dyeing with a stencil) yūzen is cheaper, if not so fine.
Fig. 348 Detail of Boy's Day banner, with Shōki (demon-queller) trampling on devil. fuku
(happiness) mark, 1930s? Author's Collection.
Fig. 349 San'in e-gasuri; with anchor, naval flag, and hawk in celebration of the Russo-Japanese
War of 1904-5. lchimichi Kazutoyo Collection.

Fig. 350 Kuru me e-gasuri, with geometrical patterns and Urashima Tarō riding a turtle to
undersea dragon palace, early 19th c.lchimichi Kazutoyo Collection.

Stencil Dyeing
Another way of applying patterns to cloth is katazome or stencil dyeing (kata
means stencil and someru dye)-a favored technique in Japan since the sixteenth
century (Fig. 346). A shape is cut into layered, strengthened paper to show the
area not to be dyed. This stencil is laid on the fabric and rice paste brushed on
through the stencil. It is taken away and the fabric brushed with a sizing liquid.
When dry, dye is applied all over it (including the rice paste area, but it does not
seep in there because rice resists the dye). If a stronger color is desired, the
process is repeated. If another dye is to be applied elsewhere, a different-shaped
stencil is used.
For blue, indigo is often applied to a whole garment by bathing it in a vat. If
a pattern is desired, this can be obtained by "resisting" that area. In a vat,
however, dye contacts both sides of the fabric, so resist paste is applied through
the stencil to the same areas on both sides, otherwise the indigo "bleeds"
through. Skillful use of resist paste is a must as both sides must match, with no
bleeding.
Unlike yūzen and freehand tsutsugaki patterns, which had to be reinvented
each time, once a katazome stencil was cut, it could be repeated, so many small
(komon) patterns on kimono were made by katazome. Stencils can still be found
in stores.

Tsutsugaki
Tsutsugaki is a way of applying a design by pushing a rice paste resist through a
tube (tsutsu). Areas not to be dyed are covered to keep pigment out.
Traditionally, the technique was used mainly with indigo (ai in Japanese), a plant
which can dye cloth from pale to dark shades of blue. Chinese and Japanese
noticed that indigo dye preserved thread and believed it would also guard
people, from snakes, for example, so seemed ideal for dyeing rural clothes.
To make the simplest blue-and-white tsutsugaki fabric, bleached fabric is
kept taut and even by a bamboo stretcher. A design is added (often with
charcoal), and then a resist paste of rice applied to the area to be left white with a
tube. (The tube is much like that used for icing cakes.) The same is done to the
back of the fabric. When the paste is dry, the fabric is taken off the stretcher and
dipped in an indigo vat as long and as often as needed to ensure the depth of
color desired. Pale blues are achieved by applying resist paste after one or two
dips. Other colors can be applied and "fixed" before the indigo bath. Once the
blue dye has "taken," the fabric is washed in hot water to soften the rice paste.
When this is scraped off, the white area remains. With repeated washing, the
blue and other colors gets paler, but many people find this softening appealing.
A new deep indigo can seem too harsh-like jeans!
Cotton growing spread in the seventeenth century in the more commercially
developed areas of Japan (it only reached the back country and northern areas in
the late nineteenth century) and people found wearing it more comfortable than
ramie and other wild fibers. Indigo-dyed cotton became the fabric of choice for
country people who could afford it.
For auspicious occasions like weddings, Japanese loved-and still love-to
splash out on special bedding (see Fig. 18). Favorite items long ago were a
colorful quilt (futonji) for the marriage bed, or an individual's quilted night
kimono (yogi). (The Honolulu Academy of Arts has a magnificent collection of
tsutsugaki quilts and yogi.) Large spaces can be dyed in this way quite
quickly, but there are risks involved: once applied, you cannot change a design
to cover mistakes. Boldness is needed.
Every town had tsutsugaki artists and the best made dramatic pieces which
look wonderful hanging on walls. Another possibility for collectors is to put
them on boards or screens. By holding the fabric tight, you avoid getting
wrinkles in your favorite fabric (Fig. 347).
There is a plethora of articles about collecting tsutsugaki. Larger quilts or
firemen's coats in good condition may cost thousands (though old-timers
remember bargains!). More modest pieces are widely available and much
cheaper, especially if you are willing to discreetly sew up rips or patch a gap-as
country folk always did.
Tsutsugaki designs are common on noren (shop doorway curtains),
furoshiki (parcel wrappers), hanten (jackets; those for fire -men were called
hikeshi hanten), ceremonial cloths for holding and wrapping babies, nobori
(banners that fly above houses to celebrate Boys' or Children's Day on May 5th),
and horse blankets (Fig. 351). Carp streamers (koi nobori) are common (they
signify persistence) but also streamers with warrior designs (Fig. 348). More
practical designs include family crests and shop insignia.
Many of these textiles were made of ramie and other wild fibers with natural
dyes, as they were strong, and cheaper than cotton. The tradition of wild fibers is
maintained by a few groups of enthusiasts but the price equation is the other way
round now.

Kasuri and Shibori-zome

The previous two techniques of resist dyeing apply to cloth that has already been
woven. With kasuri, the thread was first dyed to form certain patterns and then
woven into cloth. The art came to mainland Japan from Okinawa in the sixteenth
to seventeenth century and equates to the Malay/Indonesian word ikat. It refers
also to the indigo-dyed bast fiber or cotton cloth with white patterns made by
resist-dyeing the warp and/or weft. Those like me who find it hard to remember
which is which, may like to know that tate-gasuri (standing) and yoko-gasuri
(side) mean warp and weft weaving respectively. If both thread directions are
patterned, we talk about double kasuri, a rare design requiring even greater
skill.
Tie-dyeing (shibori-zome) is a slightly different approach, as little areas of
thread were covered or enclosed in a tight bundle so were kept away from the
pigment.
The essential nature of kasuri is the gradual blending of two colors, usually
blue and white. Westerners are used to abrupt color changes, but kasuri reflects
the Asian preference for neither/nor: one color gradually gives way to the other.
The word kasuri is related to words like kasumi, meaning "mist." It
intimates a soft blurring of blue and white, which becomes truer with time as
even the indigo threads lose some color strength and merge into white and semi-
white blue. For a long time, the material was mainly woven in the country and
sold in the city. When the countryside became less poor, villagers liked to wear
the material as mompe and jackets, so kasuri was associated with rural life.
Sometimes city folk looked down on it as rural; at other times, it carried a strong
scent of the familiar, the old house, and nostalgia for an older, simpler life.
Different areas of Japan developed special patterns of which the three best
known are probably Kurume in central Kyūshū (Fig. 350), San'in in
Shimane/Tottori (Fig. 349), and Iyo in Shikoku. The fashion for Bunmei
Kaika (meaning a craze for Western technology) led kasuri weavers to make
"architectural" patterns, for example of Kompira-san, a shrine on North Shikoku,
or Kumamoto Castle which saw action in the 1877 Kagoshima rebellion.
Common motifs everywhere include stylized forms of a well-head (like the
"Mitsui" insignia), 88 (auspicious associations), sea bream (tai), clouds,
tortoises, cranes, and pines. Most kasuri used for bedding (a lot), had small
repetitive patterns. Kasuri's nature is to be small and sweet just as that of
tsutsugaki and katazome is to be bold and dramatic. Blue and white were
most common but red and yellow were also used. It is easy to fall for kasuri,
and blue and white generally. Amy Kato has written books on it and has a shop
in Tokyo selling blue and white materials. Japanese women often collect bits
(kire) and cut larger pieces into table mats or coasters.
Nowadays, there is considerable interest among young people in yukata, the
kimono-like but informal garment worn in summer for outings like a-bon
dancing or firefly watching (where they can be found), and these are often
woven in kasuri patterns.

Fig. 351 Horse blanket (haragake), with lse crayfish, Nambu, lwate, late 19th c. Photo courtesy
Morino Bijutsukan.
Fig. 352 Ramie bingata, light blue, with peonies and phoenix, 19th c., length ca. 60 in (152 cm).
Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.
Fig. 353 Ramie bingata, with bamboo, plum blossom, cranes, and sparrows, Okinawa, late 19th
c., length 53 in (135 cm). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.

Bingata
Bingata is the particular form of dyeing practiced in Okinawa. It is famous for its
clear, bright colors connected with the climate, and for its cultural input from
China. Though not unlike katazome (stencil dyeing) on the mainland, it is
distinguished by having no base color and by the extensive use of pigments
(ganryō) made of finely ground particles, not dyes (see Eisha Nakano's Japanese
Stencil Dyeing: Paste-Resist Techniques). The pigments do not penetrate the
fabric but are held on by a binder, often derived from soybeans.
According to Sheila Cliffe in Daruma 41, the origins of bingata (red stencil)
or katachiki (stencil ground), as it is known on the islands, are a mystery.
"Although now considered a folkcraft item (mingeihin), it was never dyed for
commoners, but made to order in Shuri workshops, for nobles and courtiers. The
designs and colours found in bingata are quite distinct from those in mainland
stencil dyeing. Edo komon kimono were made with a stencil applying only one
colour (for example, blue dots on a white ground) while Kyoto used many
colours, each applied with a different stencil. The whole multi-coloured bingata
design was formed on one (or occasionally two stencils)-a unique feature."
"Bingata designs include dragons, phoenixes, birds, bats, clouds, waves and
fishing nets, farm buildings and banana leaves, weeping cherries, irises in
running water, and snow (odd as none falls on the islands), and went on cotton,
ramie, or tsumugi (raw silk) using mineral pigments layered onto the fabric to
create the characteristic gorgeous colors made for the elite (Figs. 352, 353).
The distinctive yellow, orpiment or royal yellow (sekiō), often used for the
ground, was reserved for royalty, as at the Chinese court; the other important
colours were cinnabar or vermilion (shu), Bengal or Indian red (bengara), lac or
carmine from a kind of cochineal insect (yōkō), yellow ochre (ōdo), indigo (ai
ira) ground white shell powders (gofun) and black ink (sumi)."
Cliffe adds that a lovely thing about bingata is the way color areas are
shaded. "Shading is brushed on carefully, after the base colours have dried. The
amount and beauty of the shading is very important in bingata. Shading with
different colours, or using different techniques can completely change the
quality and feeling of a dyework." Shading adds a touch of quality.
What is disappointing is that little bingata material is made any longer on
Okinawa though some is made in Kyoto and Tokyo. It is hard to get older
material-most was destroyed in the 1945 fighting-though some survives in
museums. A lot had already been taken to Kyūshū and the mainland by Satsuma
as tribute.

Sashiko
The process of adding stitching and material to existing cloth for reuse or to give
it strength before use is called sashiko and is mainly associated with Tōhoku, in
the poor northeast. Literally, sashiko means "little pierced or stitched thing"; a
running stitch was most common. Since ancient times, stitching has been used to
decorate cloth as well as for more practical purposes. Japanese traditionally take
great pride in their skills and dexterity, and women vied to show off their
artistry. Yet, sashiko was not usually sold nor was it regarded as fashionable.
Indeed, the technique is associated with poverty, and there are stories of girls
deliberately wearing sashiko to meet a suitor whom they did not like in order to
give the impression that their families were poor, and thus to discourage him.
Like samplers in the West, the ability to do a fine stitch was taken as proof
that a girl had the patience and tenacity to become a farmer's wife (sashiko is
time-consuming, and Tōhoku women spent much of the long winters at it). It
was a marriage qualification, much as the tea ceremony and flower arranging
were to become later though these too are fading.
Different areas tended to vary the stitches, the number of stitches per unit,
the method of going under or over other threads, and the approaches to patterns.
Some sewed diamond-shaped decorations, others square. The way in which
layers of fabric were laid on top of each other also varied by region. Terms used
to describe particular forms of sashiko include kogin (also sashikogin) in the
Tsugaru area (Figs. 354, 355) and the colorful diamond-based hishizashi of the
Nambu area (both in northernmost Honshū).

Fig. 354 Kogin-stitched kimono, Tsugaru, Aomori, ca. 1920. Photo courtesy Mori no Bijutsukan.
Fig. 355 White-stitched kimono, Tsugaru, Aomori, c. 1920. Photo courtesy Mori no Bijutsukan.

The skill could be applied to any garment. Richer families might appropriate
its beauty for ceremonial clothes, but most garments were made for work. Extra
layers (often two on clothes for working outside) were added for warmth, as
hemp was cool and cotton was sometimes forbidden and always expensive.
Garments with sashiko decoration include coats, vests, yokes, and sled-
hauling vests for farmers; aprons, wrapping cloth, and dramatic firemen's coats.
The Seattle Art Museum has a pair of blue and white tabi which strike me as
being amongst the most striking designs ever put on textiles. Many women
appreciate the contrasting white thread on blue, or blue thread on white-the
commonest forms of sashiko-together with combinations of shibori and kasuri.
However, due to its very nature (time-consuming and arduous), sashiko is now
hard to find but may be added to other textiles, as basting stitches or as
replacement bits on quilts.
Ainu Art
Ainu people shared a culture with many groups round the Japan Sea. Resident in
most parts of Japan before Japanese speakers, the men sported bushy beards
while the women tattooed their lips. The Ainu were gradually pushed further and
further north but left place names like Mt Fuji and Sapporo. They and their
language were studied in detail by Christian missionaries on Hokkaidō around
1900, so we know a lot about them. Their culture and language are virtually
extinct-as planned by the Meiji government which urged farmers to move to
empty Hokkaidō, thus swamping the Ainu in numbers as well as in culture. A
man of Ainu descent has been a Diet member and there are tourist Ainu facilities
but the cloaks in this book and other Ainu artefacts are no longer used.
Ainu decorative patterns are relatively fixed but look great on garments as
well as dagger and sword sheaths, tobacco containers, trays, and other day-to-
day items in Ainu life (Fig. 357).
The clothes were made out of plant (bast) fibers and later cotton (Fig. 356).
The Japanese traded them for iron in the nineteenth century. They are hard to
find now and expensive. I remember an antique show in New York a year or two
back where Ms Miyamoto displayed a most impressive Ainu cloak. It was listed
for $25,000 but flew off her wall! Large cloaks have great impact because of
their appliqué work, but the carving on wooden works also reveals strength.
There is an Ainu museum and I hear that Ainu carvers like Fujito Takeki are
trying to excel in their traditional arts.

Advice to Collectors
In collecting terms, there is a big contrast between the clothes worn by younger
and older, city and rural people. Some kimono have overall, gayer patterns while
others are mainly black but have lovely designs near the bottom. Men's black
kimono are distinctively stylish but show little variation-just like modern
business suits! Others have overall repetitive designs and are more interesting. I
doubt if anybody collects the plain kimono worn by the old, except those people
fascinated by technique.
Fig. 356 Cotton embroidered attushi, made by Ainu of lshikari, Hokkaidō, 19th c., length 45 in (114
cm). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.

Women have a natural affinity for fabric and clothing, and many who live in
Japan find themselves picking through piles of old clothing at flea markets. I
suspect that the precise weaving skills and materials mean little to most but are
vital to Japanese women collectors. If you see an apparently high price tag (often
on a kimono sleeve corner), the material, weave, or dyeing art may be special.
Unless you want to become knowledgeable about those, my advice is follow
your instincts: choose designs that do something for you and you can afford,
forgetting about technical details. You can learn gradually by feeling fabrics and
from specialized books.
I recommend you learn at once to differentiate between synthetics and silk.
Kinu (silk) is desirable and usually soft and slinky, whereas some variations, like
chirimen (silk crepe), are harder to the touch. Ask dealers what a garment is
made of: the question Kinu desu ka? (Is it silk?) will be answered correctly. If
the material is synthetic, the garment is not so old, which may be a disadvantage,
but it is easier to care for. Still, silk makes kimono special and I suggest you
avoid synthetics unless you find a design to die for. Many attractive kimono are
made of cotton or wool, especially for winter, but do not have the stunning looks
of silk kimono.
Trying to clean kimono or obi is really hard. If one is stained, my advice is to
steer clear (unless there is enough clean fabric to make something for yourself)
as the owner probably tried her best to get the stain out before it reached you.
We have paid more in cleaning bills than for an actual garment and still the
stains remained! Be very careful to use a low heat and never iron directly.
Wedding kimono are very attractive when you first meet them, but the colors
can be too vibrant after a time. The padded bottom may have got a bit dirty
because it trails along the floor. Since this need not be shown, it should not be a
problem. Embroidery is common on wedding kimono. Check that it is not
coming loose, as mending would be costly.

Recycling Old Textiles

One of the major attractions of old textiles is their recyclability. Interesting
material can be reworked into other roles. Obi, for instance, make great table
centers and runners or step chest liners, or can be refigured as in Fig. 299,
Furniture chapter.
June Colburn (see Daruma 4) is well known for cutting up obi to make vests,
stuffed animals (e.g. cats), bow ties, cummerbunds, and cushions, as well as
other clothes from kimono material; this can be turned into stunning dresses and
blouses (being made of man-made fabrics may even turn into an advantage for
certain applications, not a liability, as it will not split like old silk and is more
washable). Even the simple patterns of men's kimono lend themselves to various
garments, like shift dresses and skirts.
Fig. 357 Picture of Tōbu, Chieftain of Monbetsu, Ezo, by Kakizaki Hakyō, 1783, in an Ainu
patterned kimono. His bushy beard, horned helmet, earrings, and huge eyes are striking. The
painter was sent up to Ezo (now Hokkaidō). Photo courtesy Tokyo National Museum.

Yogi (thick kimono-shaped, but cotton-stuffed nightwear that replaced futon

in some cold regions and are capacious enough to be worn by a man and woman
if newly married) can (like wedding kimono) make great wall hangings when
displayed on a sturdy bamboo or other pole, but may need first aid in the form of
taking out stains and mending old tears unobtrusively.
If old material has interesting patterns or embroidery but is too stained or
damaged elsewhere to use in toto, fragments may be used as applique on other
newly conceived garments, or to decorate plain greeting cards, or as backing
inside picture frames.
LACQUERWARE

Japanese lacquer wares were so famous long ago that the art was
called "japanning." To this day, connoisseurs such as E. A. Wrangham
believe Japanese lacquer and its designs "display the finest taste and
most exquisite craftsmanship of all the world's applied arts:'
Wrangham has a wonderful collection of inrō. Together with
writing boxes, desks and tables, and incense storage boxes, these are
perhaps the apex of the art; they leave people marveling at their
exquisite designs and workmanship. Chinese and Korean lacquer
emphasized mother-of-pearl inlay but the basis of Japanese lacquer is
maki-e ("sprinkled lacquer;'), with sprinkles of gold and silver and
sparer, more painterly designs.
Fig. 358 Suzuri-bako (lidded writing box) in the shape of a tagasode kimono, late Edo period, 6 x
8 in (15 x 20 cm). Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.
Fig. 359 Kōgō (incense box) in the shape of a fan, late Edo period, 5 x 5 in (13 x 13 cm). Photo
courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.

Fig. 360 Hand box (te-bako) for woman's toiletry items, with pines and camellias in maki-e on
wood, Ca. 1390, 10 X 14 X 9 in (25 X 35 X 23 cm). National Treasure, said to be from Asuka Shrine,
Wakayama. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Background and History

The lacquer tree (urushi, Latin Rhus verniciflua, in the sumac family), is
common throughout Japan. The climate and country match the material
perfectly, as the tree loves humidity. Lacquer is a complex resin made from
lacquer tree sap. It is toxic before drying, irritating the skin like poison ivy, and
leaving burns on contact (many lacquer workers have weals). The best sap is
gathered from incisions in trees from July to September, most commonly in the
north, in the Kyoto area and Okayama. Once collected, it is purified, the water is
taken out, and dyes are added (most often black and red). At first a viscous
liquid, after application it dries in a humid room and hardens into a stable and
protective compound (which is also used as glue to repair porcelain).
Though lacquer was used pre-history to protect, the oldest aesthetically
pleasing and well-known object applied with lacquer is the beautiful Tamamushi
Shrine (at seventh-century Horyuji, near Nara). Lacquer has been applied to
leather, stone, basketwork, bamboo, ceramics, paper, and metals, as well as
wood. Pieces have been found at excavations dating back 7-8 millennia, so
lacquer's decorative and preservative functions were learnt very early. Most
basic techniques like mother-of-pearl inlay or maki-e and relief carving or
Kamakura-bori ultimately derive from China. From the mid-sixth century, the
spread of Buddhism caused huge demand for lacquered altar and other
ceremonial equipment, so the basics of lacquer spread wherever temples were
built. Chinese, rather monumental taste prevailed.
Two centuries later, lacquerware took on a more Japanese feeling in response
to the court nobles' taste for restrained elegance. Quality lacquer was sprinkled
with powdered gold and silver in a technique called maki-e (starting in the eight
to ninth centuries) and sometimes inlaid with oyster and other shells (raden,
aogai). The designs were often of seasonal plants, but references to poetry and
motifs were later commonly taken from Genji Monogatari (ca. 995, the
world's first novel, recording Shining Prince Genji's extensive love life but also
the courtiers' excursions, customs, rituals, and poem-making habits with
extended set pieces).
The eighth shōgun, Ashikaga Yoshimasa (1436-90), was a poor leader but a
great patron of the arts, among others helping the Ko'ami family develop taka-
maki-e (raised lacquer) skills, in following famous painters' designs. By the
sixteenth century, the Ko'ami family was favored by court and shōgun,
dominating the trade with their maki-e and nashi-ji. Beautiful lacquer pieces
often bore designs from waka (31-syllable) poems, linking the aesthetic worlds
of literature and lacquer, and adding depth of association. In the later
Momoyama era, the detail lessened and the drama and color increased, reflecting
the bolder, more assertive society associated with the unifying leaders Nobunaga
and Hideyoshi.
Perhaps the most venerated old lacquer pieces are those termed Kōdaiji,
after the Kyoto mausoleum erected by Toyotomi Hideyoshi's widow in his
memory. Lacquer had been used to decorate whole walls long ago and now it
was revived for larger spaces, so the making process was simplified. Instead of
detailed preliminary drawing, lacquer was applied freehand on a lacquer base.
Similarly, taka-maki-e and other time-consuming techniques were avoided. Flat
applications of gold and silver dust on black grounds gave a sophisticated
softness and bore no additional sealing lacquer layer. Details were opened with a
needle (harigaki), or little pools of lacquer speckles contrasted with the deep
black lacquer.

Fig. 361 Ryōshibako (stationery box), with chrysanthemum, cherry blossom, rose, and lily design,
by Kawanabe Itchō, ca. 1890, 13 1/2 x 16 1/2 in (34 x 42 cm). Photo courtesy Kiyomizu
San'nenzaka Museum.
Fig. 362 Fumibako or fu-bako (document box) designed to carry Buddhist documents, gold and
silver maki-e with mother-of-pearl and silver inlays; maki-e lotus leaves on interior; lid has relief
birds, clouds, lotuses, musical instruments, and calligraphy, unsigned, Meiji era, length 7 in (18
cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

In Bridge of Dreams: The Mary Griggs Burke Collection o!Japanese Art,

Murase Miyeko suggests that the extra demand for lacquer from foreigners in
Japan may have stimulated lacquer workshops to employ non-family lacquerers
who might have brought in new skills and approaches, contributing to the fresh
approach of Kōdaiji lacquerware. Westerners (like samurai too) would have
had no interest in Heian literature-perhaps explaining why the main motifs were
flowers and autumn grasses.
The Burke Collection has a beautiful te-bako (box for a lady's cosmetics,
etc.) with red cut-out areas that contrast tastefully with the surrounding black
and gold; a dynamic writing box bisected by a lightning bolt into predominantly
black and nashi-ji halves; a lotus-laden sutra box, and a wonderfully
understated kurodana decorative wedding trousseau shelf-all made around
1600, with Kōdaiji traits. The same collection boasts a cabinet and food box in
the Namban style that is more florid, reflecting the fact that Christianity was
quite a force between 1550 and 1610. Bible stands and other religious
paraphernalia were also created in lacquer, exported and prized in Spain and
Holland, along with some hinged boxes to please the Portuguese.
The main currents of lacquer continued throughout later centuries, though
fascinating provincial preferences also obtained, as we shall see. Some new
directions came from Rimpa-inspired artists like Ogata Kōrin, around 1700.
Changes in the nineteenth century included many new colors, and a kind of crisis
which occurred around 1870 when the Western tidal race pushed lacquer out to
sea through a combined turning away from the old and the impoverishment of
samurai families who sold all their old goods to stay alive (gold was even
stripped off lacquerware and sold), undermining lacquer appreciation and prices.
The ship was tugged back to harbor by exports to customers enamored of the
lacquerware seen at foreign exhibitions and by sales to rich tourists exploring the
exotic Orient. Unfortunately, the lacquer ship is now becalmed in a windless sea,
as ordinary people have lost interest in this luxury-priced item and there are few
well-heeled patrons.

Basic Techniques and the Industry

The basic skills of drawing and painting are widely understood but lacquer itself
is unknown to Westerners. This chapter therefore provides far more technical
detail than others, to give readers background.and show the incredible variety of
effects.
The lacquer trade is but a shadow of its former self, a victim of plastic's
victory and changing eating habits. Lacquer elegance does not go with junk food
and is no great friend of cost-consciousness, nor of desert climates and fierce air-
conditioning which causes it to dry out and crack The number of centers making
lacquer has dropped, but Kyoto, Tokyo, Yamanaka, Kiso (Nagano), Hida
Takayama, Noshiro (Akita), Kuroe (Wakayama), Wakayama, Kagawa (Sanuki
polychromes), Tsugaru and Aizu Wakamatsu (polychromes common at the last
two) are still producers, while Kamakura and Murakami (Niigata) carve lacquer.
The town best known for lacquer is Wajima on Noto Peninsula, on the Japan
Sea north of Kanazawa. Though the current Wajima lacquer method has been
proved to be 200 years old, the town is thought to have been "lacquer country"
for much longer. A book by Harima Ki'ichi and Kokon Shin'ichirō, Wajima
Shikki, implies this on the basis of folklore and circumstantial evidence about
people living in the mountains and supplying lacquer bowls to farmers in return
for food, but cannot prove that immigrants came to Nato around AD 700,
bringing lacquer techniques with them.
 Lacquerers prepare a core of wood or bamboo in the shape they want, coat it
with a priming coat of lacquer and persimmon juice to fill hollows or nicks, and
apply perhaps a layer of cloth over fragile rim parts to give strength where
needed. They then apply a priming layer of lacquer, then one thin layer after
another, rubbing it down each time in between. The very finest may have dozens
of coats and take months to finish. Special conditions are needed: the pieces are
placed in a muro drying cabinet that maintains 75 percent humidity and 70° F
(20° C) temperature for drying (or hardening as some purists insist)-a striking
anomaly. Due to distance and local conditions, the various lacquer centers use
differing processes. The above is a survey approach.
Wajima uses a special "diatomaceous" earth found outside the town
according to Diane Durston, that is reduction-fired and graded into three
qualities and applied initially with rice paste. (Another writer talks of a product
derived from the sea.) With each application, the coatings employ better earth
and more/finer lacquer. In between, the coats harden and are burnished. Black
and red grounds dominate but a lot of chinkin (gold) is added. For this, a design
is cut into lacquer, a thin layer of lacquer is painted within the incised lines, then
gold dust or foil decorates the still tacky lacquer.

Fig. 363 Suzuri-bako (calligraphy box), with Chinese black pines and deer by Nagata Yuji, a
follower of Kōrin. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

Fig. 364 Bundai (tatami writing desk) and suzuri-bako, with matching design of bush clover and
stream in maki-e and mother-of-pearl inlay, 1850-80, table 24 in (61 cm) long, box 10 in (25 cm)
square. Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.

Fig. 365 Suzuri-bako, with poetical seashore motifs in maki-e and silver inlay, design inspired by
a Kokinwakashū poem, 9 x 10 x 2 in (23 x 25 x 5 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 366 Underside of lid in Fig. 365. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

The typical Wajima process comprises the following: A wooden base is

primed and holes are filled in; Lacquer-saturated fabric strips are applied to
edges and seams to provide strength at potential stress points; An undercoat of
earth, rice paste, and lacquer is applied; This is repeated but with finer
materials; Even finer earth and more lacquer are then applied; A middle coat
is applied; Then another; The top coat is applied; In between the coatings,
the lacquer hardens, is burnished and smoothed, for example by old women with
no oil in their hands, with many applications by different experts, so a
community craft; Many whetstones, stag antler, and other abrasives and
polishers are used throughout the polishing process to bring out the incredible
mirror-like finish.
Another typical process is that of Aizu, in Tōhoku, which began in the
sixteenth century. By the eighteenth century, colored lacquers started and the art
of maki-e spread; 4,000 people are still involved, it is said. Typical goods are
tray-tables (zen) and stacking bowls (jūbako). In this process, one priming layer-
shibu shitaji— of lamp black or powdered charcoal is mixed with persimmon
tannin. Several layers are then applied, dried, and burnished followed by a coat
of tannin alone, which is also burnished. The lacquerer finishes with layers of
lacquer. Sabi shitaji-a clay-like primer (sabi)-is put on, followed by the usual
overcoats. Chinkin is a common technique and involves incising a design into
lacquer, then applying a thin layer of lacquer in the incised lines, followed by
gold dust or gold foil over the tacky lacquer.
Kiso uses a different kind of clay-sabitsuchi, not jinoko— which has good
sealing properties. Woods used include katsura (judas tree), horse chestnut, and
Japanese cypress. This process allows the beauty of the wood to be retained
whereas other methods tend to cover up the grain, which can be a disadvantage.
Hida is known for shunkei style lacquer where the wood texture shows
through. It also uses a lot of bentwood and cherry bark strips to hold the shape.
The yellow or pale red colors are simple and cheaper, and are also more in step
with the modern age. Tsugaru lacquer is speckled, with a variety of mainly earth
colors.

Special Techniques
One thing that has made Japanese lacquer special is that artists used it as
Westerners use pigments and canvas-for painting. For this, they developed many
skills. The names given here (with more in the chapter on sagemono) may be
hard to grasp but will help you to understand the subtlety of the art.
Nashi-ji has specks of gold in the lacquer, giving the slightly rough, speckled
appearance of pear skin. Nashi-ji is a favorite foundation of hira-maki-e, where
lacquer is sprinkled on to form designs, and taka-maki-e, where lacquer layers
are applied to a surface raised above the surroundings. With togidashi, metallic
or pigmented powders are applied, then more lacquer coats and the whole
ground down to give a level, burnished look. Roiro gives a shiny black finish.
Roiro shishiai togidashi maki-e combines these processes. Nashi-ji looks more
elegant than a shiny finish so was often used on high-priced items like sword
sheaths, tea caddies, and inrō.
Kamakura-bori was mainly done at the eponymous city near Tokyo. It
involved carving wood (especially facetted corners) before applying lacquer, so
that it looks as though the lacquer itself has been carved. Lacquer itself was
indeed carved in old China, but for that you needed great thickness of lacquer.
Kamakura-bori eliminates the need for thick lacquer and gives a similar look.
Expanses of black and red have great visual appeal.
Fig. 367 Fumibako (letter box), with cherry tree design in maki-e, Edo era, length 10 1/2 in (27
cm). Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.

Fig. 368 Hokai (shell storage box), four metal decorative flanges, peony and paulownia
decoration on outside, paulownia and chrysanthemum design on inside of lid, ca. 1900, ht 16 in
(41 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 369 Kyōdai (mirror stand), with palace scene suggesting Heian era incidents, 19th c., ht 23 in
(58 cm). Would support a silver mirror. Private Collection.

The Kamakura-bori technique started under the great Zen influence in

Kamakura during the thirteenth to fourteenth centuries, when the shōgunate had
its capital there. Priests came from China bringing temple supplies like daises,
desks, and altar vessels made in tsuishu (Japanese reading of the Chinese term
for built-up red lacquer). After decades, these had to be repaired so little by little
local sculptors skilled in Buddhist images expanded their repertoire and learnt
how to carve lacquer for repairs but also to carve wood and then lacquer it. They
learnt how to control viscosity while lacquering edges or corners without the
lacquer running down. By the fifteenth century, the city had become known for
its lacquerware. A famous Kamakura-bori circular box in red and black lacquer
stored in Konrenji, Kyoto, is dated 1481.
 Typical decorative motifs are guri, a Japanese term for deeply carved spirals,
heart shapes and scrolls; also peonies, birds and flowers, dragons and clouds,
and legendary figures. If you visit Kamakura, you still find examples but there
are few artisans or works. (Chōshitsu: Urushi no Relief, with essays in Japanese
by Arakawa Hirokazu and Haino Akio, gives a lot of background, and contains
230 plates of mainly tsuishu; it was published by Nezu and Tokugawa Museums
for an exhibition they organized in 1984.) Negoro-nuri is red lacquer on top of
black. The upper color is rubbed off in places, allowing the under layers to show
through in a pattern that the lacquerer largely chooses but looks unplanned.
Sometimes it derives from sheer later use. The way the color shows through is
suggestive and a joy to see. The name comes from Negoro, a temple near
Wakayama City, largely destroyed by Hideyoshi in 1585. The monks reputedly
developed the technique for their own use, and later for sale. However, Negoro
works have been found predating and postdating the temple's existence and other
areas produced it too, so perhaps the term is a general classifier, not a proof of
origin or date. People value Negoro for its symbolic possibilities: the more it is
used, the more black shows through, suggesting that greater knowledge, or more
human or poetic qualities, become evident; the marbling is magic.
Kebori has very fine lines. Ke means "hair" and the very finest work is said
to be made with a mouse hair, though usually something like a pin made the
extremely delicate lines in lacquer that was still damp. A memorable example
for me is black carved on black, showing a tiger and dragon. The pearl the
dragon chases and the eye of the tiger are highlighted in a different color,
otherwise everything is a delicate matte black.
Hidehira, Nambu, and Jōhōji bowls were made in Tōhoku from perhaps the
sixteenth century. Hidehira bowls have "a full body, lips slightly curved in and
spacious and heavily built bases sloping outward" (Hayashi Mitsunori, Daruma
3). They often come in threes (big, medium, and small though none are very
big), with the inside vermilion and on the outside a black ground decorated in
vermilion with clouds, gold lozenges, and strips. The others are similar in
feeling, while Sōhōji bowls look more like monks' begging bowls and were only
found at this seminary in Masuzawa, Iwate. The bowl's mysterious provenance
and preservation (they were probably used only on festival days) captured the
imagination oflacquer fanciers in Japan, as well as their bold cinnabar on black
decoration, now faded and worn, and pleasing to many. They are hard to find.
Hayashi explains the mystery thus. Lacquerers moved in groups through the
forests looking for good timber, such as keyaki and lacquer trees. Once these
kiji-shi had used those materials up in one area, they moved on. Local villagers
who lived in one place for centuries found this a strange practice and made up
stories, probably confounding them with the countrywide stories of the lost,
invisible village and of swapping bowls for food (as in Wajima, above).
Okinawa (formerly the Ryūkyū Islands) was an independent kingdom under
the cultural shadow of China until it was conquered by the Satsuma clan of
southern Kyūshū in 1609. Its lacquer had been mainly vermilion and gold with
typical shapes derived from China, like the ton da bun, a round, lidded, and
compartmentalized serving dish on short feet. Shell inlays prevailed. Later,
probably to please mainland Japanese taste, black lacquer was also made. Some
collections have been formed but the islands were devastated in 1945, while
much of the best from the royal collections had been looted by the Satsuma
(ending up in the Tokugawa Museum, Nagoya), so little is left on the islands.

Fig. 370 Two-panel screen with silver frame, gold lacquer, and Shibayama, showing figures
playing amidst cherries, unsigned, Meiji era, ht 7 in (18 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.

Fig. 371 Four-case sheath inrō in sabiji nuri lacquer with inkcase netsuke showing a spider and
fly, Shibata Zeshin (1807-91); on inrō, a badger holding a saké jar skulks among grasses
(engraved in delicate kebori), signed, 3 in (8 cm). Author's Collection.
Fig. 372 Striped lacquer trays signed Kawabata Naokichi and seal, inscribed "twice lacquered,"
ca. 1880, 12 1/2 in (32 cm) square. Ex-Misugi Takatoshi collection. Jay Burns Collection.

Individual Artists
One thing that stands out in the history of Japanese lacquer is the existence of
"polymaths," men who excelled at several arts.
Hon'ami Kōetsu's (1558-1637) name is found at Kōdaiji (1596, see above)-
his lacquer prefigured the Rimpa School-but he was also a raku potter and
calligrapher.
Ogawa Haritsu (1663-1747), usually known as Ritsuō, was an innovative
lacquerer known for his haritsu-zaiku technique in which ceramic shards, ivory,
and shells are boldly inlaid in maki-e designs. He painted Tosa School type
works, made pottery, and was well known for his many haiku poems. He was
fascinated with copying old inkstones in lacquer (see Sagemono).
Shibata Zeshin (1807-91) was a great lacquerware maker with very
individualistic designs thanks to stints with Koma Kansai II for inrō in Tokyo
and with Shijō School painters there and in Kyoto, as well as being an
outstanding painter in lacquer and ink. He came to fame in 1840 with a design of
a she-devil grabbing back her severed arm from a coffin: Tokyoites took it as a
political statement. When costly materials were outlawed, Zeshin looked for
ways of using cheap materials to show his genius, like resurrecting the old
"combed wave" (seigaiha) and seidō (bronze patina) skills. He also copied rusty
iron and polished rosewood.
Zeshin was particularly prolific and hard working. He lived through thirty
Meiji years, meaning that many of his works went overseas (though he was
appointed an Imperial Craftsman and helped decorate the Palace) and so was
collectible. The inrō (Fig. 371) was sold at Sotheby's in June 2002. Favorites of
mine among his works include a portrayal on paper of a bird in a thatched bird-
house on a flowering plum (Baekeland Collection) and on a tray of a hoe with
pampas grass and chrysanthemums tied to it (both Asian Art Museum, San
Francisco); the dramatic tiered box with taros and chrysanthemums in the Burke
Collection; and a tray with a lily bending under the weight of a large bloom in
the Khalili Collection (see also Sagemono).
Other famous Meiji era lacquerers are Ikeda Taishin (Zeshin's pupil),
Kawanabe Itchō (Fig. 361), Shirayama Shōsai (Fig. 373a, b), and Ogawa
Shōmin (Imperial Japan: The Art of the Meiji Era). Their works also appear on
sale occasionally.
To show that lacquer is a continuing medium, I mention two contemporary
lacquer artists. Terai Naoji, a "living national treasure" working in lacquer in
Ishikawa Prefecture, is rather traditional. Akabori Ikuhiko, in contrast, does
avant-garde works in lacquer, often looking like space monsters or satellites. He
likes to use lacquer with metals, often cut out and very much part of the
mechanical world. Shiraishi Masami (chief curator, Tokyo National Museum of
Modern Art) in Urushi: Jiku no Sekai, explains that there are many fine
examples in the Imperial Warehouse (756) that use hyōmon-"cutting patterns
out of thin sheets of gold, silver or other metal and then applying them to the
lacquered surface as decoration"-typical of Akabori's work. Later hyōmon were
mainly used for details as maki-e grew more popular. Rimpa artists added lead
and got another effect. Yatsuhashi by Ogata Kōrin particularly impressed
Akabori and persuaded him to use hyōmon skills in his stainless steel works.
"Junryū," perhaps his most famous work, looks like a design for circuit boards,
the Pompidou Centre, or oil refinery piping, depending on your leanings, but is
certainly striking! Terai and Akabori are the North and South Poles.

Wedding Paraphernalia
Wedding costs in Japan average $50,000-100,000 and have always been high,
forming an outer rampart of the whole family system that bolstered old Japan
and bound families together. Middle-and upper-class parents of a bride were
expected to provide a dowry that included a lacquer boudoir set, with jewelry
boxes, mirror stand, and assorted containers (Fig. 360) and shelving, plus items
like a bookstand and incense storage box as well as hokai or kaioke (Fig. 368).
Two large boxes containing beautifully finished lacquer boxes held a set of
shells for the shell-matching (kai-awase) game. By giving these shells, the
bride's parents were promising that their daughter would be a faithful wife, as
only pairs matched.
Clam-type shells have two halves whose outer sides can be prized apart.
They have no special traits but each shell's vital joining part has differently
shaped geometry, so that Shell A's what I shall call "lefty" cannot be joined to
Shell B's "righty:" physically, they just do not fit together. This was taken as
symbolizing the wedding sacrament-Man A only matched Woman A. The shells'
outsides had naturally matching patterns which could be used for pairing, but the
inside of one might have the first part of a poem and the other the second, or
naturally paired pictures would be painted on the two. At times like the New
Year, guests would gather with, for example, all the lefties spread out on tatami
mats, while a caller would bring out one righty at a time; the assembled guests
scurried around looking for the appropriate matching lefty. Legend has it that the
man and woman matching the most shells could be rewarded with permission to
go off privately together.
Fig. 373a, b Maki-e panels by Shirayama Shōsai (1853-1923). showing (left) herons at sunrise,
(right) crow at sunset, ht 331 1/2 in (85 cm). Photo courtesy Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum.

Weddings brought families together in alliances, so money was flaunted to

show their importance. During the shogunate, no family was more important
than the Tokugawas, and it is therefore apt that the most elaborate extant bridal
set is at the Tokugawa Museum, Nagoya. It was made for Chiyo who married
Tokugawa Mitsutomo in 1639. This bridal set is called "Hatsune no Chodo" after
an episode from Tales of Genji. A full set could involve many tiered stands,
innumerable boxes, and little items-as many as 360 pieces!
Fig. 374 Saké pitchers, Namban (Iberian-influenced) lacquered flasks for export, each in lacquer
box (not shown), 16th c., 12 x 5 x 5 in (30 x 13 x 13 cm). These were for drinking but other
exported lacquer flasks were for ceremonial use. Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

Incense Items
Great refinement also pervades items used for the incense ceremony, and the art
of incense-matching (kō-awase), which was an esoteric art in itself. From the
sixth century, incense had been linked to religious offerings but it later became a
way of giving clothing a pleasant smell; garments were wafted in the smoke or
hung above it. Heian era courtiers vied to recognize or make the best fragrances
(2,500 are mooted now) and as the custom spread down the social ladder,
schools sprang up as did rules regarding its use, especially in the fifteenth
century. Other activities include enjoying a scent alone and two people burning
different incenses that will match well, or alternatively evoke a defined literary
scene. The art peaked three centuries ago and has few adepts now but has left
physical evidence and I believe smell memories: a certain refinement and good
taste stops Japanese women wearing overbearing perfumes.
Kō-bako and kōgō are the main incense items (Fig. 359). Both translate as
incense box or case, but the former is larger, the latter shallower, while those
with several tiers are termed kō-jūbako. The variety of incense case shapes is
extraordinary. The Walters Art Gallery in Maryland has a number of uncommon
shapes in its collection, among them two intersecting books, one open, one
closed; an obi bow; fans; koto; a priest's traveling chest; a pheasant; a reclining
lady in court attire; a helmet; a tortoise with an internal tray and five tortoise-
shaped boxes; a sumōreferee's fan; overlapping rafts; a cap, and a peach! The
shapes are rivaled by the myriad designs, with all the imaginative (and
pecuniary?) juices involved in producing such masterpieces.
A takigara-ire holds incense ash; kō-awase dōgudana are gorgeous cabinets
on multiple but varying levels with drawers and cupboards; kō-dansu are
portable chests to hold incense items in drawers; kōro are censers to hold
charcoal for burning incense (see Fig. 411); kō-dokei is a cabinet with notches in
a wooden frame for burning incense at incense parties (it burns at a constant rate,
so you count time by the number of notches burnt past). Some examples I have
seen are in wood, but lacquer clocks exist too.

Writing Utensils
Some of the most elegant lacquer items of all were utensils for writing, a revered
activity. At the Heian court from the tenth to the twelfth century, the ability to
communicate in writing (often in poems) was the hallmark of good breeding,
and this tradition was adopted by later warrior regimes. The basic item was the
bundai, a low table at which you brushed your work (Fig. 364). Nearby you had
a lidded writing box (suzuri-bako) containing an inkstone, ink-stick, brush, and
water-dropper (and sometimes extra brushes and knives in luxurious articles)
(Figs. 358, 363, 365, 366), as well as stationery or document boxes (fumibako,
fubako or ryōshibako respectively) (Figs. 361,362, 367). Often no expense was
spared to make these extraordinarily beautiful. Their prices now start at several
thousand dollars but go way up. At a recent auction in Japan, the selling dealer
refused $40,000 for a writing table and letter box, though they did not seem so
special.
The great riches of Edo era lacquer are imbued with artistic skill and
painterly vision that does raise them to the ranks of greatness-even to me! It is
perhaps the boldness of the designs with literary references found in works by
Zeshin, or the unsigned "Dream in Naniwa" writing box in the Burke Collection,
that leave me sighing-just like the great genre scenes on Momoyama screens!
More recent writing boxes or sets, perhaps incomplete or a little chipped
make excellent gifts-especially to yourself or your spouse! They are testimony to
Japan's rich lacquer tradition and add a little extra something to your life: there is
something unbelievably romantic about handling a box that may have held the
love letters of some famous man or woman.

Lacquer Screens and Chests

Painted silk wall screens (byōbu) are enormous (72 in, 183 cm high) but Meiji
era lacquer screens are often microcosms of the same universe: they convey
similar themes and prowess but on a smaller scale, for example 8 in (20 cm) high
(Fig. 370). Kodansu are little chests (often 3 1/2-4 in, 9-10 cm high) with two
metal-hinged panels and a small lower design under the main one.

Miscellaneous Items
On altogether a smaller scale (but not necessarily cheaper), little objects which
dangled from the belt, called sagemono, were also spared no expense, as they
might place you in the ranks of the well-dressed (Fig. 371); these are described
under Sagemono.
Similarly, small but beautiful lacquer items include the powder and tea leaf
containers (natsume and cha-ire) used for the tea ceremony. These often bear
individual names, and within the Tea community are highly valued. Their
diminutive size or comparative sameness makes them less desirable to an
average Westerner.
The Walters Collection has ten kashi-bako (boxes for cakes and sweetmeats)
which are every bit as dazzling in shape and design as the incense boxes
mentioned earlier. Perhaps the king and queen of all are the taiko drum-shaped
cake box and the carved red lacquer box in the form of camellia petals.
Kendai are decorative lecterns, especially for singers/reciters who sit cross-
legged in the theater. The stand and reading board can be disassembled and put
in the drawer along with the fine corner silk tassels often at each end, for
transport to the player's next performance. In my part of Japan (Kobe-Osaka),
these are often said to be from Shikoku, which had a reputation for joruri and
bunraku, but I have no proof that this is true. The last beauty I saw belonged to
the then Dutch Consul-General's wife and was tragically smashed in the Great
Hanshin Earthquake of 1995.
At their magnificent 1990 Arts of Japan auction, Spink offered a beautiful
lectern estimated at $20,000 or so: "a black ground lacquer lectern finely
decorated in taka-maki-e, hira-maki-e and kiri— gane with cherry trees
overhanging a stream by rocky banks and kadomatsu plants, 18th c., 57 cm."

Everyday Ware
Lacquer is a complex, advanced polymer. It can be intensely beautiful but at the
least is practical-a strong sealant and preserver-so the range of lacquer items
(nurimono) is wide.
During the Edo and Meiji periods, lacquer bowls were the standard food
vessels and were served to guests sitting cross-legged on the floor on individual
legged trays (zen) as there were no dining tables. The higher the legs, the more
formal the occasion (or the wealthier the family). Bowls were red or black and
the better pieces had gold decoration. Every middle-class house had 20-40 trays
with four matching, but differently shaped, mostly lidded bowls (for rice, soup,
the main dish, and pickles or other vegetables) (Fig. 372). Important family
events, such as weddings and funerals, were held at home as most places had no
modern hotels and restaurant rooms for staging banquets or wakes.

Fig. 375 Tub,yutō (hot water pourer), basin with ears and stand, towel rack, all with design of
weeping cherry trees with crests of Gion Amulets in maki-e, Edo era; diam of tub 21 in (53 cm); ht
of pourer 8 in (20 cm); diam of basin 10 in (25 cm); ht of stand 8 in (20 cm); ht of rack 23 in (58
cm). Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.

These lacquer trays and bowls are available now at strikingly low prices
considering the cost of making them. This reflects the post-World War II move
from large old houses with multi-generational families and storehouses, to small
urban apartments. Japanese still admire lacquer but there is nowhere to store
bulky sets in the typical small urban apartment, so sets of ordinary trays go
cheaply even if they are very old, in good condition, and beautifully made (black
is cheaper than red). Nowadays, trays would be $20-50 and an appropriate set of
dishes on one might be double that. If elaborately decorated, they are dearer, but
because of low demand and excess supply, they are a steal for those who believe
in intrinsic value (artistic elegance and original time and skill needed, compared
to current cost).
 Saké cups and pitchers are abundant also: sets of three for the bridal saké cup
ceremony and little sets commemorating a youngster's call-up into the military
(or release), retirement from a firm, the setting-up of a group, or a reunion. Also
common, easy to use, and elegant are yuto or hot water pitchers (Fig. 375 left)
and the standard lidded rice serving bowl (hitsu) and spoon. Ceremonial saké
barrels, some with horns and so linked to warriors, come into this category, too,
as do huge quaffing vessels.
Lacquer was a favorite material for other household goods like those for
washing: basins (tarai) and towel racks (tenugui-kake) (Fig. 375 back). If these
have family crests or are particularly attractive or boxed, they may be pricey. A
tabako-bon (smoking tray) with pipes and an ash holder was automatically
offered to guests and these were often lacquer, though wood was more common.
Fig. 376 Shokudai (candle stand) with chrysanthemum shaped base, ca. 1900, 32 in (81 cm).
Usually in pairs. Author's Collection.

Kyōdai (lacquered mirror stands) (Fig. 369), candle stands (Fig. 376), kōgai
(ornamental hairpins or bars), kushi (ornamental combs), and other hair
ornaments were beautifully made and bear the years well. Seasonal items like
no-bentō and hanami-bentō are very desirable, but still within ordinary budgets.
Hanami-bentō (Fig. 378) are elaborate boxes taken on flower-viewing picnics
and other excursions. Often a servant would carry one, but it was not too heavy
for a wife either. Typically, it contains dishes and food containers for five people
and two flasks for saké. No-bentō were smaller and more for brewing up tea
under the cherry trees, or while on the road, so their appearance is more modest.
Another seasonal standout for Westerners is the jūbako or tiered box (it can
also be ceramic), a feature of the New Year (Fig. 377). The first three days were
a time for visiting, especially by relatives, and it was natural to offer food to
guests. At the same time, no shops were open nor refrigerators to hand, while
women traditionally expected a several-day long rest from cooking at the New
Year.
Very cunningly (this is asserted without evidence), men got round this
problem by making their women work fiendishly hard in the last couple of days
of December preparing extra sugared or vinegared foods (o-sechi ryōri) that kept
well, stored in the tiered boxes (lacquer and ceramic both preserve, while the
winter cold helped too). These and plates were brought out if guests called, so
technically no food preparation was required.
Jūbako see little service in Japanese houses now (wives often order food in
from supermarkets/department stores or persuade their husbands to spend the
year-end in a hotel to avoid the drudgery) but have become a must at the houses
of Westerners in Japan who hold parties: they look exquisite in their 3-5 tiers on
the sideboard or they can be used to carry appetizers (three-tiered, circular
jūbako often held cosmetics). Boxed and with an extra lid, lacquer tiers are
luxurious-looking but low-priced ($100-1,000 or more; the latter only if
beautiful and old).
In a similar price range are lanterns or andon. These make wonderful
additions to Western houses as they diffuse a lovely quiet light and come in
unusual shapes. The maru-andon is round, some 36 in (91 cm) high and its paper
shade has two parts; one turns 180 degrees to allow a taper or match to be
applied to the wick or candle (most get electrified today). The paper can be left
ajar, to let out subtle shafts of light, or closed for softness.
Smaller Gifu lanterns with frills and colored paper are used for festivals
(including the Girls' Festival on March 3rd). Other small lacquer lanterns, some
14 in (35 cm) high, were made for geisha's bedsides. Less durable, they are rarer
but a steal-and evocative. The ariake (pale dawn moon) lantern has sides with
different shapes for the new, mid-month, and full moon, so lets out varying
intensities of light; with its poetic magic it is a big favorite-if found! Other hand-
held lanterns were of wood, but were not lacquered. They come in all shapes and
are useful and desirable. Temple candle stands are attractive and often come in
pairs.

Fig. 377 Jūbako (fou rtiered box), with design of bamboo and chrysanthemums, ca. 1900, 12 x 9
in (30 x 23 cm) square. Jay Burns Collection.
Fig. 378 Hanami-bentō (picnic box) with design of various flowers in maki-e, 19th century, ht 10
1/2 in (27cm). Photo courtesy Osaka Municipal Museum of Art.

Lacquer was extensively used to decorate male attire (horse gear and armor
or sword fittings) and female ornaments like combs and hairpins. Here the
market is more fragmented with a lot of goods being one-offs and history
mattering as much as current appearance. Because of the strong samurai tradition
honoring soldiers and their equipment, much has come down to us which serves
little purpose (ancient horse girths, for example) and are not pretty either. Armor
and swords are covered in another chapter.
Buddhist altars and the items that go with them (some are bronze) are
beautifully lacquered and sets cost a fortune when new. The market for used
altars is bedeviled by the unwillingness of Japanese to buy secondhand things.
Some are exported and saved, but many altars are destroyed. Japanese connect
the altars with dead relatives and the need to spend hours propitiating them with
prayers and offerings, so when they move house or the grandparents die, find a
reason to be rid of old associations. This means that they may be available at low
cost to foreigners, but it is better to ship them overseas. Japanese would feel
uncomfortable coming to your house if you had one. Given their low cost and
high quality, they are a steal if you do not mind the associations!

Collecting and Care

Until three or four decades ago, lacquer was part and parcel of life in Japan and
so many things remain in stores and warehouses. The mirror stand shown in Fig.
369 was part of ordinary dowries and may still turn up near you, just like writing
boxes. All are intensely collectible, with their dramatic designs and low space
requirements. As suggested above, lacquerware is seriously under-valued. If you
are in a dry climate or have fierce heating in winter, follow the practice of
museums: put the item in a cabinet and place an open bowl of water nearby to
mitigate the dryness.
Avoid abrasive detergents or the use of sharp tools or blades. Wash lacquer
in warm water and a little liquid soap if very dirty, and dry quickly. Normally a
wipe with a wet cloth is enough. Try never to scratch the surface or peeling may
later occur.
Though the day-to-day utility of lacquer has declined, its beauty remains.
Great places to see lacquer are Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum in Kyoto,
Tawara Museum in Ashiya, Japan's National Museums, the Walters Art Gallery,
and the Freer Gallery, as well as Europe's great collections of Oriental Art.
CLOISONNÉ

With the current admiration for later nineteenth-century (Meiji era)

work, cloisonné is very highly ranked. The technique reached an
artistic and commercial climax then, whereas traditionally it had been
a mere adjunct of house or sword decoration. Its commercial reign
(1867-1914) was short but glorious! Thanks to advances in technique
and the artistic aspirations of many leading cloisonné studios,
cloisonné moved from being an artisanal activity to a branch of the
fine arts.
Fig. 379 Vase by Andō Jūbei of Nagoya depicting a Shinto white snake representing the goddess
Benzai, combining yusen (wired), musen (wire-less), and nagaregus uri ("drip-glaze" enamel
background), ca. 1912, ht 15 in (38 cm). Exhibited at the Pan Pacific International Expo of 1915.
Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 380 Bud vase signed Ōta zō, in double-gourd form with roundels and scrolling vines in silver
wire yūsen, ca. 1895, ht 4 inches (10 cm). Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.

Definition of Enameling For most people "enamel" is a vague term as it

is used in other fields (paint, colored enamels on porcelain, and dental enamel).
The process here involves applying molten glass of different colors (or hard
glass fired later) to restricted spaces on metal. This space was formed by making
a hollow and pouring in glass (champ/eve), or making little squares with metal
strips or wire walls called "cells" (cloisons in French) by casting or by using a
hammer to beat out a holding shape from a sheet of copper, gold, or silver, a
technique called yūsen (wired). The cell walls were needed to prevent the colors
from mixing during firing.
Sometimes firings were repeated so that the metals and glass underwent
great stress. Damage was common. With technical advances, the walls became
less evident and eventually disappeared (Namikawa Sōsuke made wire-less
enamels, as we shall see later). The final process with each method was a long
series of polishings with different materials. One expert in the field, Susan Tosk
from Orientations Gallery in New York, who has a science background, in
comparing Chinese and late Meiji Japanese cloisonné through a microscope
observed that the latter's surface was much finer. She and her husband thus
stocked it in their gallery. Less skilled enameling allows little gaps, mounds,
cracks, or other irregularities.
Ellen Eber of The Incurable Collector, Rochester, New York, and cloisonné
researcher Donald K. Gerber brought to my attention Rudyard Kipling's reaction
to visiting a Kyoto cloisonné studio: "It may take a month to put a pattern in
outline, another month to fill in the enamel, but the real expenditure of time does
not commence till the polishing. A man sits down with a rough article, all his tea
things, a tub of water, a flannel, and two or three pebbles from the brook.... He
does not get a wheel with tripoli, or emery, or buff, he sits down and rubs. He
rubs lovingly with his soul in his finger ends, and little by little the efflorescence
of the fired enamel gives way and he comes down to the lines of silver and the
pattern in all its glory." This paean to the cloisonné worker still resonates.

Historical Background Japanese call cloisonné shippō or "seven

treasures," recalling the seven treasures of Buddhism, as it was considered a
substitute for inlaid jewels such as emerald, coral, agate, and lapis lazuli (as well
as gold, silver, and brass). In Europe, the French coined the word cloisonné
(meaning "celled") after learning the technique from the Middle East from where
it spread east and north.
 In Japan, cloisonné making existed in the eighth century (some is in the
Shōsōin, though previously it was thought to be Chinese). As elsewhere, the
cloisonswere of metal sheet (here gold on a silver base) turned up to form
containers for lacquer. An amber and floral pattern was excavated from the
seventh-century Kengoshi tomb.
For the next few centuries, the art was quiescent and small scale, mostly
consisting of nail covers and pulls for sliding screen doors, sword and chest
fittings, and water droppers, though it was used on the Golden Pavilion Palace in
Kyoto.
Hirata Dōnin (1591-1646) and his family are credited with resuscitating the
trade, perhaps having learned it in Korea before building the Tōshōgu
Mausoleum at Nikkō and the Jōrakuden of Nagoya Castle (both 1634). Kacho
made the more subdued door pulls for the Katsura Detached Palace, while
daimyō Tea master Kobori Enshū also placed orders.
Researcher George Kuwayama mentions a new method of applying enamels
in the later seventeenth and eighteenth centuries only "selectively in spots as
colorful accents." He quotes as a masterpiece the balance between the Kanō style
bird-and-flower screens and the door pulls at Maeda Tsunanori's residence built
around 1700. Sōken Kishō (1781, see Sagemono) stated that the work of Hirata
Narikado (1684-1757) surpassed anything made in China (where cloisonné
seems to have reached industry size by the fifteenth century), but little from the
period remains.
Fig. 381 Miniature vase by Namikawa Yasuyuki depicting butterflies and flowers in silver wire
yūsen on the artist's unique "true black" enamel ground, ca. 1905, ht 3 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy
Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 382 Box by Namikawa Yasuyuki depicting a peony in silver wire yūsen, pure silver mounts
on lid and base, ca. 1910, length 3 in (8 cm). Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 383 Kōro (incense burner) by Hayashi Kodenji in archaic Chinese bronzeli form, bird-and-
flower scenes in yūsen, ca. 1900, ht 9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 384 Vase by Hayashi Kodenji depicting Manchurian cranes in silver wire yūsen on an unusual
celadon-toned enamel ground, ca. 1900, ht 6 in (15 cm). Photo courtesy Orientatio ns Gallery.
Fig. 385 Vase by Namikawa Sōsuke depicting carp in a Buddhist temple pond in musen (wire-
less) enamels with a flourish of gold wire in lotus, ca. 1895, ht 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy
Orientations Gallery.

It was only in the Victorian age that the shippō we admire was first made,
pioneered (at least on hearsay) by Kaji Tsunekichi (1803-83) at his workshop in
Nagoya (opened 1838 or 1839). Perhaps from European or, more likely, Chinese
examples, he studied many techniques. Instead of the previous soldering on or
inlaying of small decorative patches, he started applying enamels to large
surfaces, training and teaching a whole generation of enamelers near his village
of Toshima in the Nagoya area. These early pieces appear to date from around
1850 but are crude, dark, and follow Chinese patterns.
The existence of foreign buyers after 1858 wanting a full range of new
shapes gave impetus to craftsmen to invent new colors and skills. Later, this was
spurred on by the glory and orders obtained by participating in domestic and
overseas exhibitions, such as the Paris Exposition of 1867, which led to a
fascination with things Japanese and started the Japonisme art movement.
Demand was so great for export pieces that Kaji Tsunekichi's village became a
cloisonné hub. Skills spread to many workshops which, in turn, found new paths
and patterns; at one time, 75 percent of all exports came from Toshima
according to the following authority.
In Daruma 20, Donald Gerber says: "Early Japanese cloisonné copied
traditional Chinese objects from the Ming Dynasty. One often finds this in a
turquoise or cobalt blue with red, white, yellow and blue flowers and horses. In
fact, early Japanese cloisonné often used a Chinese 'Ming mark' cloisonnéd and
enameled on the bottom, as decoration." He also quotes Bowes as referring to
1850-60 enamels as "Middlewhere" (meaning not Japanese yet), intricately
detailed and copying Chinese bronzes, despite the fact that the copper base was
very thin, so not suited to bronze shapes. Gerber adds: "We can distinguish this
period by the impressive 'calico' or geometric design and the muted colors of
dark green, red, dark blue, pink and yellow," copying Japanese textile designs
onto metal.
A German chemist, Gottfried von Wagener (1831-92), who had studied new
chemical substances and reactions in Europe, helped Imari potters achieve better
glazes. He introduced sparkling new enamel colors, such as cobalt blue, and
helped get more reliable firings from 1875 on. His knowledge of advanced
chemistry and pigments was important in achieving cloisonné perfection.

Typical Cloisonné Technique The shape and design of an object were

decided and a copper alloy body readied. A design was traced onto the body.
Wires of brass, silver, or gold were fixed to it with an orchid root adhesive, then
the spaces between them were filled with enamels (finely ground glass colored
by metal oxides). The work was fired at high temperatures (depending on author,
ranging from 850 to 1650° F, 440 to 885° C). As enamels shrink, many firings
were needed to bring the enamels above the wire. Spoilage was a major problem
and skill vital, as months of work might be lost in a second. (The breakage, high
cost of materials, and skills needed to make high-class cloisonné render it most
unlikely we shall ever see such masterpieces again, a comforting thought for
those who fear fakes).
Other techniques include moriage, which gives a raised sculptural effect
(associated with Kawade Shibatarō, who also introduced repoussé and
porcelain glaze-like techniques), translucent enamels, and gin bari, where silver
foil was beaten onto the copper. The main motifs are traditional symbols, textile
brocades, landscapes, and bird and flower designs.

Cloisonné Schools and Artists Theoretician Gerber believes that you

can distinguish Naturalistic, Pictorial, and Translucent Schools of cloisonné. The
first, also called the Kyoto School, was headed by Namikawa Yasuyuki (1845-
1925): "Emphasis is on landscapes, birds and flowers, and one normally finds a
solid dark color background with fine silver and gold wires. Even in his own
day, the work of Namikawa was sought after by museums and collectors around
the world." It was also very expensive-£5-50, which was a fortune then.
Yasuyuki is famous for superb wire work, naturalism, color harmony, and
overall beauty (Figs. 381, 382). He had learnt to hide the background wire by
1893, so he could work with solid areas of enamel, and use varying thicknesses
of silver and gold wire. His works were then usually signed on silver base
plaques.
Gerber adds that Yasuyuki "influenced many makers of cloisonné, among
them the Ōta family (Fig. 380), Hayashi Kodenji (Figs. 383, 384), the Gotō
family, Shibata and Inaba Shichiho (Fig. 393)." Kodenji (1832-1911) moved to
Yokohama for trading reasons. "His late work demonstrates delicate skill in
using gold and silver wire on a solid mirror finished background."
The Pictorial School of cloisonné was headed by the other most famous
artist, Namikawa Sōsuke of Tokyo (no relation and differ ent kanji, 1847-1910)
(Figs. 385, 387). In 1887, after working with porcelain enamels, he took over the
Nagoya Cloisonné Co. of Tokyo. Aware that most cloisonné works were
classified as industrial goods, Sōsuke wanted recognition as an artist at the
domestic and overseas exhibitions which he actively organized. He was famous
for reproducing classic paintings in a naturalistic style (especially the works of
Watanabe Seitei; some even carry his signature), for hazy scenes of Mt Fuji or
clouds passing over the moon, and for inventing a technique that needed no
wire-enclosed cells, called musen-jippō.
The Translucent School generally placed enamels over a carved base (tōmei-
jippō) and was started by Kumeno Teitarō (1865-1939) of Nagoya, who was a
highly regarded artist during the Golden Age of Japanese cloisonné (Fig. 386).
Creative and innovative, he (and Kawaguchi Bunzaemon) excelled at enameling
on silver by making it thin enough not to crack the enamel with heat.
 Though Gerber defines these cloisonné schools, he is quick to point out that
there were many individuals who do not fit into this framework. For example,
Takahara Komajirō of Kyoto was famous for his Kyoto-jippō, on which he
depicted auspicious symbols in man frameworks; his work is seldom signed.
Other highly regarded enamelers and workshops include Andō Jūbei (Figs. 379,
388, 390), Kawade Shibatarō (Fig. 392), Gonda Hirosuke (1865-1937), Hattori
Tadasaburō (Fig. 391), Isaburō, Tanigorō, and Miwa Tomisaburō. The Tokyo
National Museum has signed works by Hirata Hikoichi and Itō Katsumi.
Unlike porcelain or painting, cloisonné had no long period of appreciation by
Japanese connoisseurs, so when foreign interest ebbed, the industry stagnated,
though the Andō firm remains in operation. One can see that at its height, works
are spare in their use of color and space but full of poetic allusion; the
masterpieces are for ever. Both Yasuyuki and Sōsuke moved to more space and
less detail as the years passed, attaining a more Japanese aesthetic.

Fig. 386 Box by Kumeno Teitarō depicting a profusion of chrysanthemums in gilt-copper, ca.
1895, length 5 in (13 cm). A similar piece is in the Imperial Household collection. Photo courtesy
Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 387 Box by Namikawa Sōsuke depicting a white dove on a maple branch in musen enamels
with a flourish of silver wire for beak and talons, ca. 1905, length 5 in (13 cm). Photo courtesy
Orientations Gallery.

Fig. 388 Pair of vases by Andō Jūbei depicting carp in a Buddhist temple pond, carp and waves in
moriage (relief) enamels, ca. 1910, ht 7 1/2 in (19 cm). Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.

Fig. 389 Vase signed Honda depicting iris and orchid in musen, ca. 1910, ht 5 in (13 cm). Photo
courtesy Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 390 Pair of silver-mounted vases by Andō Jūbei depicting finches on berry branches and
leaves, with 16-petal imperial crests at necks in moriage enamels in silver/ gold wire. Original
cases show vases were presented to Emperor Taishōin 1924. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 391 Silver-mounted vase by Hattori Tadasaburō depicting morning glories and leaves in high
moriage enamels on beige ground, original tomobako and stand, Meiji era, ht 10 in (25 cm). Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Most pieces are not signed and so it is important to examine as many as

possible in order to train your eye, though a signature makes cloisonné more
valuable to many collectors. Enamelers can sometimes be guessed at on stylistic
grounds.
Japanese cloisonné enjoyed popularity for decades and a special vogue in the
West between 1894 and 1905, but by World War I it had declined in quality and
price competitiveness. The art was labor-intensive, the failure rate high, so costs
were stratospheric.
Fig. 392 Vase by Andō Jūbei and attributed to Kawade Shibataō (Andō's chief enameler)
depicting cherry and willow trees in moriage enamels, ca. 1910, ht 12 in (30 cm). Photo courtesy
Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 393 Vase by lnaba Shichiho depicting flying sparrows and leafy borders in silver yūsen on a
navy ground, Meiji era, ht 15 in (38 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
SCULPTURE AND METALWORK
Japan has a long history of carving and metalworking. In the early
centuries AD, ceremonial bells called dōtaku were cast and have been
found throughout the country (Fig. 2). Bronze and iron formed some
of the great works of Japan, such as the Nara and Kamakura Daibutsu
(Great Buddhas), as well as religious statues, immortals, real and
imaginary animals, temple bells, lanterns, teapots and kettles, swords
and their fittings, koro (incense burners), vases, mirrors, inrō, and
okimono (tokonoma and desk decorations).
Carved and lacquered wood and dressed stone have also long been
used to express the visible forms of religion, such as statues of gods
and Buddha, horses and tutelary intermediaries like Jizō that you still
so often see by the wayside (perhaps with a white or red bib), or the
stone lanterns that deck the great gardens and temples of Japan. Much
time, patience, skill, and money was spent on memorial stones
(kinenhi) and gravestones (haka), but because they are usually
anchored to their birth site, they fall outside the scope of this book
which is concerned with portable collectibles. Many ivory carvings
are featured in the chapter on sagemono. Traditional sculpture was
called horimono (carving) and, like most Japanese art, had a definite
purpose: to form an altarpiece or represent a religious idea. It was
only when Western ideas of purely decorative sculpture reached Japan
that the term chokoku was coined.

Fig. 394 Pair of double-gourd iron vases inlaid with gold and silver with relief carvings of two-
mood Daruma and karako (Chinese boys) haunting Hotei, Komai sei signature on inlaid plaque,
Meiji era, ht 8 in (20 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 395 a, b Buddhist altars (zushi). Left: Niō with many cross-like elements, perhaps Kakure
Kirishitan (Secret Christian relic) and sword in unusual position, wood, ht 7 in (18 cm). Right:
Formerly has gilt halo, ht 5 in (13 cm). Tsuda Yoshio Collection.

History and Techniques of Sculpture

Most of Japan's great sculptures were made in the age of faith between the
seventh and fourteenth centuries and are of Buddhist inspiration. Wood was the
main medium, not stone, but bronze was also vital. Many would say that the
country's most beautiful statue is the Buddha of the Future (Miroku) at Kōryūji,
Kyoto, probably carved by a Korean immigrant in the seventh century. Jōchō,
who carved the gilt wood Amida Buddha (1053) in the Byōdōin at Uji, is
another admiree. Kōkei (fl. ca. 1200), his son Unkei (d. 1223), and his apprentice
Kaikei were other wonderful sculptors. Kaikei's workshop probably made the
1,000-armed Kan'non and its scores of attendants in Sanjūsangendō, Kyoto.
Langdon Warner of Fogg Museum, Harvard, in The Craft of the Japanese
Sculptor, believes that the Amida Trinity at Hōryūji "is among the most perfect
and lovely bronze castings known today." It was probably made in the seventh
century by Koreans who had been in Japan for several generations, evidencing
Japanizing tendencies. The Tori'i sculpting family of Nara was probably of
Korean origin too. Most great works are in temples and shrines or in museums,
so are not easily collectible.
An ancient method of modeling involved unbaked clay that adhered to a
wooden core, thanks to wisteria root fibers; the top white clay skin was brushed
on like paint. Next came a gesso-like mixture with glue, and finally color. Little
remains after the eighth century so perhaps the clay's weight and fragility caused
sculptors to choose other media. The hollow lacquer method used a scarecrow
core on which hung lacquer-soaked cloth in the appropriate shape, giving a light
but strong model. Wire was added for detail later. But there was a gradual
change over to wood, which seems to have appealed to something in the
Japanese craftsman's heart. At first the wood was carved and covered with
fabric, but gradually the underlying knife cuts became clearer under a thin
coating of preserving lacquer or color, often long since gone.

Heian and Later Currents in Sculpture

Change was inspired by the moving of the carving center from Nara to Kyoto
and the arrival of new Buddhist sects or philosophies. Up to about AD 800, the
images are uncomplicated figures, recognizable to ordinary people. Sakyamuni
(the Buddha) is the robed figure; graceful Yakushi Nyorai is the healer; temple
guardians look fierce enough to defend with ease; Miroku or Maitreya calmly
waits for man to reach enlightenment so he can reach full buddhahood himself;
Monju stands for wisdom; and Kan'non for mercy and sympathy. These figures
were guides who could help humans towards the ideal of enlightenment.
After returning from China early in the ninth century where they had learnt
the endless rituals of esoteric sects, Kōbō Daishi started the Shingon sect and
Saichō the Tendai. Instead of readily graspable tenets, these sects required
myriads of figures, incantations, and rituals and a whole new set of suprahuman
figures with quirky qualities. Just as in India, the earliest immortals might have
more than one head and many arms, now numerous divinities also required
priestly interpretation and artistic expression. In reaction, ordinary people later
came to rely on simple incantation to Amida and the development of paintings of
paradise scenes which gave comfort, associated with Pure Land (Jōdo Shinshū)
Buddhism.
Fig. 396 Seated Amida (Amitabha) in meditation, cypress wood, lacquered and gilt, mid-11th c.,
ht 60 in (152 cm), formerly in Sairinji, Kyoto. Photo courtesy Kyōto National Museum.
Fig.397 Combined baku (nightmare eater) (front) and boar (rear), cherry wood sculpture, with
ivory tusk and ivory inlay eyes, 19th c., 22 x 10 in (56 x 25 cm). Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure
Box.

Fig. 398 Carving of Daruma, Japanese cypress wood, early 20th c., ht 5 in (13 cm). Photo
courtesy Orient al Treasure Box.
 Other sects prominent in the thirteenth century were Nichiren, with its
militant, drum-beating calls for "anti-softness," reform, and morality, and Zen,
which eschews scripture and ritual, embraces intellectual rapport and inspiring
hints between teacher and pupil, and leaves enlightenment up to the individual's
aspiration. Portraits of Zen leaders were made so their students could remember
what they had said (little recording of words was done). Interestingly, the
Japanese have not made portraits of famous people while living: later perhaps, or
for a memorial shrine.
Such religious changes seem to have inspired artists to reform, simplify, and
make their art closer to man, as in the famous statue of the itinerant priest Kūya
calling on people to reach for salvation: he bangs on his drum while models of
Amida flood out of his mouth. He is clearly a man, with no divinity, and yet the
god images and the whole could be called Symbolist.
Another innovation around 1200 was the laying down of gold leaf with
animal glue on the surface of statues. This allowed a brighter gold look than the
previous pasty-colored gold powder and glue. The leaf could also be folded
many times and cut to produce very complicated patterns (kirikane).
In Japanese Decorative Arts from the 17th to the 19th Centuries, L. Smith
and V. Harris write that the practice of hollow carving bits of a sculpture and
then joining them (yosegi) began in the eleventh century. Warner says that
Unkei developed a more detailed system of breaking down a figure into
component pieces made by atelier staff and fitting them together after fine
adjustment or replacement. This obviated the need to use one tree trunk. Unkei
divided his heads into a front mask, central ear section, and the back of the head.
Of course one might say that this is now almost the province of the mask maker
(see below).
After this era of inspired sculpture came a hiatus. The fifteenth century was
mainly devoted to war. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, sculptors did
little wonderful religious carving but did carry out commissions for the new
warlords who increasingly had a taste for the florid, as seen at Nishi-Honganji in
Kyoto and Tōshōgū Shrine at Nikkō. The Busshi (Buddhist sculptors,
reverentially so-named since the eighth century), rested on their laurels, carrying
out commissions with little creative spark or new direction, though there was a
tendency to concentrate on facial expression, often at the expense of the rest.
After the atrocities of the religious wars, people lost some faith in the divine and
sculpture became humanly expressive, with a growing focus on the face (partly
influenced by the Christs, martyrs, Madonnas, and saints brought by Iberians in
the later sixteenth century).
 The temples had been severely weakened by Oda Nobunaga (1534-82), who
hated the Buddhists as they had acquired private armies by the mid-sixteenth
century. With fewer temple commissions, sculptors cultivated private clients and
turned their hands to new items, often more human-oriented facets of life, such
as masks, netsuke, and later okimono (small decorative sculptures). Smith and
Harris suggest that Edo era sculpture for temples was perfunctory, whereas the
little votive shrines made for individuals were imaginatively made. Some were
so small they could be carried around. (These votive shrines-zushi or butsuzō-are

popular with collectors.)

Fig. 399 Batō Kan'non (horse-headed Kan'non, believed to protect horses), wood, 19th c., ht 13 in
(33 cm). Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.
 The forcible separation of the Buddhist and Shintō faiths in March 1868
meant that Buddhist temples lost all government links, and Shinto became the
state religion, in order to build up the new Imperial System. Community support
and sculpting commissions dried up, while militants destroyed and pillaged
temples and statues. A lot of statuary was also de-accessioned, enabling
Westerners and their museums to build collections. Carvers had to find other
trades where their skills would serve.
The Buddhist altars (butsudan) kept in homes are well made, with fine
lacquered wood and bronze furnishings, and desirable from a Western or
aesthetic point of view. However, the Japanese have a horror of second-hand
altars-the ancestors might fight if you have one in your house-while there is a
general taboo on the goods of the departed, which explains why kimono are so
cheap in their next incarnation. If you live in Japan and see an altar tossed out on
"big garbage day," my advice is to take it home and enjoy it, but do not exhibit it
where Japanese will see it if they come to visit, unless they are very Bohemian.
Hoping for a profit in Japan is also out: it might work elsewhere!
In Japanese markets, you do come across small votive Buddha figures but
sculpture no longer plays an important role in day-today life, except for projects
to beautify new buildings or parks, and then mostly with Western themes and
approaches. Some Buddha figures, and indeed the fish that hang over farm
fireplaces, are rumored to now come from old telephone poles in Southeast Asia.
I have also seen ancient Thai/Burmese Kan'non and sculptures from a sixteenth-
century Chinese temple at auction in Japan.

Wooden and Other Masks

The earliest extant masks are of clay and were made about 4,000 years ago. (It is
very tempting to link this interest with the Japanese insistence on face in
interpersonal and other relations, and the importance of mie in kabuki.) Wood,
especially hinoki or Japanese cypress, often coated with lacquer, pigments, or
kaolin, has been the dominant material. Others are cloth, dry lacquer, and paper.
Masks were important in early drama and festivals where they often
encompassed the whole human head; they went on top and round it rather than
being placed in front of the face. You are unlikely to find centuries-old masks,
but carvers still copy extant ones (like the bird and lion kings, demon or drunken
barbarian) for gigaku (mimed processional drama) that were worn to dedicate
the Great Buddha at Tōdaiji in 1752, or for bugaku (medieval dance-dramas).
Carvers enjoy great freedom in working with mythical beings, often creating
anew. Because of the many religions and sects which may use and sell masks, as
well as the old Shinto tradition of offering phallic and other objects stressing
fertility at shrines, masks are still very much part and parcel of Japanese
tradition. Masks abound in a variety of forms but are often not easy to find nor
old (nor even Japanese sometimes!).
The variety of masks is astounding but probably the most common is the
tengu, a half-man half-bird creature; this red-faced monster lives deep in the hills
and is feared as an abductor but also acts as a talisman. The most conspicuous
feature is a very long nose-sometimes considered a dildo (a friend says hat peg!).
Fig. 400 Wood and lacquer sculpture of the great Chinese general Kan'-u and retainer with bow,
wood, and gold-lacquered stand, unsigned, Meiji era. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 401 Ramma (wooden transoms) with carved rabbits and waves, 69 x 17 in (175 x 43 cm).
Photo courtesy Kurofune Antiques.

One family stands out in mask carving, the Deme family, who started
carving in Kyoto during the sixteenth century. Some members later moved to
booming Edo, becoming almost official carvers there. They also carved mask
netsuke.
Masks most commonly appear in processions and festivals, for example at
Setsubun, on February 3rd or 4th (the day before Risshun, the first day of
spring): shrine worshippers cry "Out with devils, in with happiness!" (aniwa
soto, Juku wa uchi) at warding-off evil ceremonies and throw beans at people
masked as devils.
The most beautiful masks, however, are those carved for the Nō theater that
started in 1374. Made mostly of Japanese cypress, they are covered with a white
layer of aleurone (gofun) and painted. They are not realistic but instead come in
about 80 different "types": young woman, nobleman, angry warrior, holy man,
demon, and faded beauty, to name a few. They usually have little built-in
emotion (except the jealous wife). They are so made that the lead actor (shite) in
the Nō drama, who alone wears a mask, can lend it different moods or facets of
meaning by his chanting, dancing, and fan movements. In some ways, the most
interesting masks are devils, like Han'nya or Ko-Jishi.
Thousands of masks still exist from centuries ago, showing Japan's ability to
retain the past so well that researchers into Chinese or Persian culture invariably
visit. A lot of masks carry inscriptions on the back, plus the date, maker, the
person to whom it is dedicated, and the seals of those who appraised them, but
these inscriptions may be fake, so quality matters more than signatures.
Nō masks are smaller than the human face so we can still glimpse an actor's
chin or sometimes a disconcerting jowl! Skillfully carved, these masks have an
inherent sacredness that makes them hard to buy or sell. The tradition is that the
carver does not sell his work. In return for friendship over years, an amateur
carver once gave me one: it is hidden away in a cupboard wrapped in a cloth and
is not for sale!

Wooden Transoms (Ramma)

Somewhat more special are transoms or ramma: partitions placed in pairs above
head height between rooms in traditional houses-which are still readily available
(Fig. 401). Their original inspiration perhaps came from the twelfth-century
lacquered banners of Chūsonji in Iwate Prefecture or the 1635 Tōshōgū at
Nikkō. Much of the pine or cedar is carved out in identical shapes on both sides,
allowing air and light into an inner room without the need to open doors or
disturb privacy. Common pieces come in pairs and in lengths of about 3-6 feet
(l-1.8 m) but are often sold separately for $100-400. The wood is left unstained
though the surrounding frame may be lacquered black. A ramma in the
Kusakabe Folk Crafts Museum, Gifu Prefecture, has an attractive interlacing of
bamboo and wooden crosspieces.
Modern Japanese apartments have concrete walls, so ramma have lost their
purpose. Nevertheless, they make lovely decorative items on Western walls.
Tree-lined landscapes, castles, and castellated buildings, representations of the
famous Eight Views of Omi, and flying birds are common subjects.
Since the Meiji era, Western sculpture has been taught at art colleges but
little sculpture has made an impact overseas, though the work of Noguchi Isamu
(an American) and Nagare Masayuki is much admired.
Fig. 402 Articulated ivory crayfish stained for naturalism, unsigned, Meiji era, length 9 in (23 cm).
Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 403 Ivory boy with giant carp, mother-of-pearl inlaid eyes, symbolizing fighting setbacks and
success, signed Yumin, Meiji era, ht 4 in (10 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Ivory Carving
Ivory has been carved for centuries. The art came from Tang Dynasty China and
the oldest extant pieces are divination rods and combs in the Shōsō-in (756).
According to the Tokyo Ivory Organization, initially hair ornaments and plectra
for musical instruments were commonly made of ivory but little else. An
intriguing technique was kōga-bachiru-shaku '("red staining scale"), which
involved coloring part of the ivory red, dark blue, or green after carving and
making the desired design. Its effect depended on contrasting white with other
colors. The art went out of fashion until the Meiji era when there was a
conscious return to Japanese roots and a greater appreciation of the Shōsō-in
collections. Many of the best pieces were copied for display, conservation, or
repair, so millennia-old techniques had to be reinvented!
The early Tea world also used ivory items. Hideyoshi (1536-98) reportedly
owned an ivory tea caddy (cha-ire, called Shō-ō-nasu), while great Tea
master Sen Rikyū's diary of 100 tea ceremonies records many ivory items. As
the Tea world became attached to non-showy objects with the promotion of
wabi cha, ivory went out of fashion although it was still important for personal
seals, often attached to a string. The need to secure them was probably an
inherent human self-defensive response but also the precursor of sagemono
worn on the obi in shape and portability.
Japanese are self-effacing and not given to showy gold, silver, jewelry, or
ivory for personal use, so it is almost perverse that ivory as a material is
associated with Japan, yet we can say that ivory found its most delicate
expression in okimono, and in the obi danglers that are described in the chapter
on sagemono.
Fig. 404 Massive Tokyo school ivory carving of child and cockerel on bronze and burlwood base,
Hōmei Yoshida signature on plaques, Meiji era, ht 25 in (63 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 405 Meticulously carved boxwood and ivory Gama Sen'nin, unsigned, Meiji era, ht 4 in (10
cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 406 Elaborately carved ivory lidded box with monkeys, rabbits, and deer round persimmon
tree, lkkō signature on plaque, Meiji era, ht 6 1/2 in (16 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques

Fig. 407 Powerful oni, ivory top, lacquered wood robe, sash and tobacco pouch in gold
takamakie,Shunkō signature on base, Meiji era, ht 4 in (10 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 408 Ivory itinerant priest carrying Fudō deity in portable back shrine, Shiot a Toshiaki
signature on base, Meiji era, ht 7 in (18 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 409 Small gold and silver inlaid iron chest with detailed scenes of Kyoto, low-relief garland
borders, inlaid key signed Komai sei, Meiji era, ht 5 1/2 in (14 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
 Flg.410 Iron hanging lantern made by Sadasumi of Owari province, dated 1319, ht 26 in (66
cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

History of Metalworking
Quality metalworking probably began in the fourth to fifth centuries with skills
brought in from Korea or China. The first uses would probably have been for
swords, armor, and household tools. By the sixth century, bronze and steel were
made to a high standard.
In the eighth century, smiths made one of mankind's largest statues. The
thirteenth-century Kamakura Buddha (38 feet, 11.6 m high) stands in all its
glory; its surrounding structure was destroyed in 1495 and thus it can be seen
from afar. The larger gilt bronze Nara Buddha was erected in 752 within the
great Tōdaiji Temple. This Buddha stands some 50 feet (15.2 m) tall and its eyes
are almost 4 feet (1.2 m) wide. The maximum bronze thickness is 6 inches (15
cm) and the statue contains almost 200 tons of metal. The head was replaced in
the sixteenth century after an earthquake. The surface is gilded with mercury and
the whole made of karakane alloy, a mixture of copper, tin, and lead.
Metal was very important during the age of guns and cannon (ca. 1550-
1620). The matchlocks on a Portuguese ship stranded at Tanegashima (an island
south of Kyūshū) in 1543 caused great excitement. The Japanese have always
been curious about novelties and are also extremely practical. The effectiveness
of the guns found on the stranded ship and the techniques of forging and casting,
patinating, making alloys and precision working associated with them were
learned. Within several years, the Japanese had copied the guns and made them
available countrywide, completely changing warfare and making nonsense of
many centuries of arms and armor.
However, as soon as Japan was united and the 1okugawa regime firmly in
place, orders went out to close down cannon foundries. Quite literally, Japan
threw away the means to build cannons and guns, and, astonishingly, returned to
the sword!
However, they retained their knowledge of metalworking. Engelbrecht
Kaempfer (1657-1716), the German traveler working for the Dutch East India
Company, commented on the skill of Japanese metalworkers of all kinds, but as
George Savage says in A Concise History of Bronzes, "by the eighteenth century
colossal statues and architectural bronzework had become an antiquarian taste,
and objects such as the okimono had become the rule."

Metalworking Techniques
According to Savage, "The peculiar genius of the Japanese bronzesmith lies in
novel techniques of inlaying and colouring, of which a lobster-red patina to
copper which is very difficult to attain is an example. A technique known as
mokume ('wood grain') required several sheets of differently coloured alloys to
be brazed together, scored with heavy cuts, and partially drilled. This was then
hammered flat, bringing the underlying colours to the surface in a manner
suggestive of figured wood, with wavy lines and knot-like markings. The surface
was sometimes raised from the back in slight bosses which were then filed flat,
leaving a pattern of differently coloured alloys with an effect not unlike
chalcedony. Artificially coloured Japanese bronzes should not be cleaned with
abrasive cleaners which may destroy the surface effect, but washed in soap and
carefully dried."
"Great attention was paid to alloys, perhaps because Japanese avoid bold,
solid colors. In karakane bronzes, lead is the most important inclusion. This
made the bronzes especially easy to pour and therefore suitable for large
castings. Small quantities of zinc (about 3 or 4 percent) are not unusual.
However, the addition of 15 percent to make something akin to true brass did not
occur before the eighteenth century. Even then, it usually contained only 5 or 6
percent of lead. Sentoku, which contained up to 13 percent zinc, may have been
used in the fifteenth century. Legend has it that vessels of this kind also
contained gold, although this metal has not ever been identified in it. The
Japanese generally prefer gilded copper or bronze to brass. Shakudō contains up
to 5 percent gold, in some cases with a little silver, but it is mostly copper. The
gold gives a gold surface with violet tones. Shibuichi contains about half copper
and half silver, although the proportions vary. It was patinated artificially to
obtain a handsome gray. After the seventeenth century, shibuichi was much used
for sword fittings. It was also employed by the Mint in place of silver to debase
the coinage.
Savage continues: "Generally Japanese bronzes have a low melting-point
owing to the frequent inclusion of lead. Partly this was due to the vogue for large
works, some of which were cast in situ, and partly to the poor refractory qualities
of the fireclay from which the moulds were made. There was, apparently,
difficulty in procuring the highly refractory clays most suitable for casting a
normal copper-tin alloy."
The main method of making bronze statues was lost wax or eire perdu. Over
a rough clay core, the sculptor fashioned the detailed body he wanted with wax.
On top of that he put a layer of clay with occasional gaps. The whole was heated,
the wax melted out and replaced with molten bronze. When cold, the outer clay
was chipped off and usually the inner core too, but metal stays were left to give
structural strength. This was not how enormous works were made, however. It
was much too heavy and wasteful so the main body or lotus petals were made in
slabs and joined together.
For one thousand years, inlaying in metal has mattered. This is how Amita
Damascene Ltd inlays jewelry with modern and traditional designs: Crisscross
lines are chiseled into steel.
Pure gold and silver designs are then hammered in.
Nitric acid is applied to surfaces which are still bare.
The resulting rusting is halted by heating in green tea.
Black lacquer is laid several times over the whole surface and baked, making
the whole black.
The gold and silver designs reappear once they are polished out with soft
charcoal.
The final hairline engraving is carried out.

Fig. 411 Silver censer, with lobed body, double-pierced lid, finial, and handles inlaid with gold,
silver, shibuichi (alloy of copper and silver) and shakudō (alloy of copper and small amount of gold).
Sudō Seihō signature on gold plaque, Meiji era, 19 in (48 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 412 Patinated bronze kōro (incense burner) with inlaid/applied blossoms, leaves, and
insects, signed Miyabe Atsuyoshi, Meiji era, ht 12 in (30 cm), Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 413 Pair of multi-metal baluster vases showing Kaga-inlaid Namban figures hovering over
shield bases, neck sections showing flowering grasses and birds, cicadas adhering to necks,
signed Kuniyasu sei, Meiji era, ht 13 in (33 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig.414 Multi-metal bronze vase of goose and kingfisher, Chōkichi signature and double
mountain kaō mark, Meiji era, ht 12 in (30 cm. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Kettles
Collectors have long shown an interest in kettles used to boil water for ritual tea:
kama for the usual tea ceremony and tetsubin for the sencha ceremony. Chanoyu
(the Way of Tea) in Japan probably started after priest Eisai (1141-1215)
returned from China. At first no special kettle was employed as water was
simply boiled in the kitchen, transferred to a ladle and poured into cups. In the
fourteenth century, the tea ceremony moved to better quarters and made use of a
special kama (the earliest ordinary kama go back to around AD 700), featuring
two mobile side handles anchored to ears (kantsuki) and a flange (tsuba) in the
middle to deflect smoke, but no spout or top handle. An interesting record
(Kama-shi no Yuisho) of 1700, by kettle maker Nishimura Dōya, states that the
first kama made in Ashiya (modern Fukuoka) were 500 years old and those of
Temmyō (Tochigi, near Tokyo) 400. Perhaps for this reason, Ashiya is the first
name to drop from lips when the subject comes up. Ashiya and Temmyō later
lost out to Kyoto as manufacturing centers. Morioka in the far north became an
important center (tetsubin also) in the nineteenth century and still is. Jesuit Luis
d'Almeida was the first Westerner to mention kettles (1565).
Sencha, or steeped tea drinking, was probably imported from China in 1653
by the Chinese priest Ingen (1592-1673), founder of Ōbaku Zen, but only spread
widely in the later eighteenth century. It appealed to literati for its "Chineseness"
and comparative simplicity, and to others who had tired of the standard,
stultified, over-formalized style. Though Japanese records insist that tetsubin
were invented by Koizumi Nizaemon (d. 1785) in Morioka around 1770, these
kettles seem to have started in Kyoto just before 1800 when the sencha
movement was under way. P. L. W. Arts, in Tetsubin: A Japanese Waterkettle,
says it "is a relatively small, teapot-shaped cast-iron waterkettle with a lid, an
upwards pointing and usually curved spout, and a top-over handle." About 4
inches (10 cm) high, it became the standard kettle in many homes, especially
farm-houses, after the sencha movement died down around 1860.
Taste is always personal and acquired, but an interesting shape, a pedigree,
attractive decoration (like inlays), a signature, the materials used for the body
and lid, the existence of arare (hailstone) or nunome (textile) patterns, the
condition, and the general shape-liness of a kettle all help determine its value.
Uta-tetsubin have a poem on one side and various relief decorations on the other.
Kettles from the Nambu area of Tohoku, used for the tea ceremony or simply
for boiling water on one's fire at home, are extremely attractive because of the
complex alloys employed on the lid above a simple iron base, and are eminently
collectible. If ketdes are in silver and if kama and pots are signed, that raises the
price: many collectors have some involvement with the tea ceremony and deep
purses. Ordinary flea market ketdes can cost as little as $100-200, especially if
there is concern about rust. Looking after the metal matters, as rust is a persistent
problem.
Fig.415 One of a pair of naturalistically carved bronze vases showing carp and angler fish
detailed in metals and alloys, eyes inlaid with ivory and ebony, Shōami Katsuyoshi
signature on plaque, Meiji era. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Meiji Statues and Decorative Items

Up until the Meiji era, metalworking had been basically divided into armor and
swords, mirrors, and Buddhist paraphernalia (like bells or the vajra, a five-
pronged, stylized thunderbolt that symbolizes the power of wisdom to destroy
delusion, part of the regalia and a weapon, if confronted, of itinerant priests).
Nearly all such metalworkers lost their livelihood.
Swords were banned in 1876, so jobs linked to that weapon were
endangered. Mirrors made of bronze could not compete with imported (and soon
locally manufactured) glass, and Buddhism was frowned on, so few items were
purchased.
 During violent transformations, people often change course, consciously or
not, and create new articles and partnerships with other trades. Traditional ivory
carvers teamed up with lacquerers, bronzesmiths, or cloisonné artists. A small
craft area-Edo glass-won plaudits when crystal was added to Meiji multi-skill
works.

Fig. 416 Pair of akagane (red copper-bronze) vases with takazōgan (relief enamel), hirazogan (flush
inlay) and chasing to form bird-and-flower and fishpond scenes, by Miyabe Atsuyoshi, ca. 1885, ht
9 in (23 cm). Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 417 Shakudō tear-drop vase showing Seven Lucky Gods in gold and silver hirazōgan, made
by Kyoto workshop Kuroda, ca. 1895, ht 7 in (18 cm). Photo courtesy Orientations Gallery.
Fig. 418 Bronze, parcel-gilt falconer gazing at hawk, signed Miyao, Meiji era, ht 24 in (61 cm).
Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 419 Bronze, parcel-gilt fisherman and boy after fishing trip, signed Miyao, Meiji era. Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 420 Pair of parcel-gilt bronze kendō fighters on matching stands with gold lacquer phoenixes,
signed Miyao, Meiji era. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 421 Bronze fully armed samurai on bases decorated with dragons, Meiji era, ht 74 in (188
cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 422 Iron charger with border of inlaid gold and silver geometric brocading surrounding a
central roundel with a powerful image of Shoki grasping a high relief but elusive demon, signed
Nihon Koku, Kyōto jū Komai sei, Meiji era, ht 12 in (30 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 423 Copper panel inlaid with metals depicting intense Shōki within a mulberry frame, Un'no
Shōmin (1844-1915) signature and gold seal, Meiji era, ht 26 in (66 cm). Photo courtesy Flying
Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 424 Bronze hawk with gold and shakudō detail on a burlwood stand, Masatsune signature on
plaque, Meiji era, ht 30 in (76 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

With tremendous government (and direct Emperor Meiji) support for

artisanal trades (officials had noticed Westerners' admiration for them and
recognized their exportability, given encouragement and new themes), many
studios were soon turning out "old curios" for tourists, for sale in Yokohama and
Kobe (the main ports). Japan became heavily involved in organizing shows at
home and taking part in international exhibitions, winning plaudits and prizes.
Thus the nation paid for much new technology and equipment for its factories
and military supplies through exporting goods made with traditional skills and
motifs but "tweaked" to appeal to Westerners. (Large amounts of silk and other
goods were exported too.) Worldwide interest and enthusiastic purchases by
travelers, dealers, and visitors at overseas expositions and by Western diplomats
such as British Minister Rutherford Alcock (1809-97) who, in 1862, privately
displayed his bronzes, lacquer, and ceramics at the Second International
Exhibition in London, all encouraged the growth, or sudden appearance in many
cases, of "ancient handicrafts" like cloisonné, Satsuma, and Hirado ware, lacquer
and Shibayama, and studio porcelain. The origins of these trades were soon
clouded or glossed over by stressing the century-old motifs they employed. At
the very time when Japan was frantically modernizing, all the talk was of "old
Japan" and its legends. Many travel accounts appearing at this time mentioned
sailing home with "several tons of ancient curios." In the case of obi danglers
and swordware, many items were indeed old (no longer needed, as Savile Row
suits were "in" and swords were "out"), but other objects were still hot out of the
oven!
Rather than describing at length the statues and decorative items made with
enormous skill and in great quantity for export or sale to tourists, readers will get
a good idea of their variety from the many images included in this chapter.

Tides and Trends in Collecting

Tastes invariably change. What brings panting salivation at one time may be
replaced in a generation or two with sarcasm, and then the wheels may turn back
again just as dramatically!
Savage felt that late nineteenth-century objects "such as large vases with
dragons in high relief writhing round them, especially for Western consumption"
were tawdry, while the Japanese "preferences for simplicity and asymmetry of
design, allied to exceptional technical skill, produced works which will bear
comparison with those from most other places."
During the last few decades, however, interest has again surged in Meiji era
metalwork, perhaps due in large measure to the great collections amassed,
published, and exhibited by Dr Nasser Khalili of the Kibo Foundation, London,
but also to strong New York attraction for articulated dragons (Figs. 427, 428),
for example, and multi-art pieces. Collectors are attracted to obvious skill,
glorious colors, inspiring myths, and extraordinary composition: the okimono
and other metal works made in the nineteenth century are undeniably skillful.
Figures, depictions of, for example, hawks on a stump, plaques, upright or
globular vases, chargers, planters, or articulated crayfish, with inlays and
shibuichi, shakudō, silver, Shibayama, or ivory decoration, are now snapped
up by wealthy collectors. Though many figures are of traditional samurai, like
Yoshitsune in full battle gear, others are high-tech modern like a hot air balloon,
or blatantly foreign, like a silver tea set but with Japanese motifs.
Silver was very much part of Victorian taste, and Japanese artisans took this
liking to heart, using a higher percentage of silver than sterling, though silver
was not traditionally Japanese. Yokohama silver is often raised (moriage) and
double-skinned. In Japan, some small items like cigarette boxes are readily
available, inexpensive, and never polished; they tarnish very quickly in Japan's
climate and the resulting matte look seems to go down well. I suspect that silver
lovers may find this an area worth looking into. In New York, there is an
increasing interest in, and quite high prices paid for, nicely worked silver bowls,
boxes, coffee and tea sets, and decorative items.
Turning points are always exciting and inspiring to artists, so just as the right
time to be buying art is after a violent change of taste, maybe now is a good time
to learn about the magnificent works made in the last gasp of the feudal
apprentice system (which guaranteed excellent workmanship) and the extra edge
that necessity and stimuli from new materials and motifs can evoke.
Fig. 425 Bronze stylized deer, signed Byakurō saku, early-mid 20th c., ht 16 in (41 cm). Photo
courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.
Fig. 426 Bronze carp by Joshun, ca. 1950, ht 10 in (25 cm). Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure
Box.

Fig. 427 Huge articulated copper-patinated bronze fiery dragon with shakudō eyes, 19th c., length
50 in (127 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

This area has not yet been well researched (although Christie's in their 1976
catalogue for the Hartmann Collection put together a formidable list of mainly
earlier tsuba workers), while the George Walter Vincent Smith Art Museum in
Springfield, Massachusetts, has added a new Japanese art wing which promises
more visibility for Meiji metalwork as does Murata Masayuki's new Kiyomizu
San'-nenzaka Museum near Kyoto's famous Kiyomizu-dera. (He has written
about his collections in Daruma magazine).

Famous Meiji Metalworking Names

Kanō Natsuo (1828-98) was an all-rounder, acquainted at least with painting,
calligraphy, and poetry. London curator Joe Earle suggests he may have been the
best Japanese metalworker of all time, while the preparatory work for the screen
of Kiyomizu-dera (a screen in the Khalili Collection) shows he was a skilled
calligrapher as well. Among the first crop of Imperial artists (Teishitsu Gigei'in,
1890), he became a professor at Tokyo Art School.
Kiryū Kōshō Kaisha, a government-run trading company, was founded in
1873 and managed by a tea dealer, Matsuo Gisuke, and Wakai Kenzaburō. It
became overextended, partly due to political considerations, and dosed in 1891.
Marunaka Magobei ran part of the firm thereafter.
Komai is among the best-known names in Meiji metalworking. If we look at
Komai wares, which are often on an iron base worked with gold, silver, shakudō,
and copper as detailed above, and called nun orne zōgan, we see that pagodas
and chargers are common, often with a gold overlay of grape vines. The center is
a clear image, historical or legendary, and round it a stylized ground.
The Komai firm is said to have been founded in Kyoto in 1841. Its name
only surfaced in 1903 after which it exhibited widely at foreign shows until
World War I. Before that, its agent, a Kyoto dealer called Ikeda Seisuke, perhaps
handled its work at international or domestic exhibitions and got the credit,
according to Earle, though Komai Otojirō had started selling to foreigners in
Kobe in 1873. It was unusual in that the firm employed many excellent artists
but stressed the company image, not individuals.
Fig. 428 Articulated iron fiery dragon, signed Myōchin, Edo era. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig. 429 Articulated copper-patinated bronze lse crayfish, Meiji era, length 27 in (69 cm). Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig.430 Rare articulated iron Makatsu— gyo (imaginary dragon fish) with gilt detail, Myōchin
signature and original tomobako (box) with crest, Edo era, length 12 1/2 in (32 cm). Photo courtesy
Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 431 Silver dragon-spouted hot water pot/warmer/stand, body and stand with dragons in
stormy seas carved in high relief, Meiji era, ht 12 in (30 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.
Fig.432 Chased relief double-walled silver bowl with three kirin capering among waves, Meiji era,
diam 9 1/2 in (24 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 433 Silver and enamel cockerel and hen (peering at spider) on a wooden stand,
naturalistically carved with shakudō, gold, enamels, and cloisonné, signed Gyokutōsai (hen) and
Issei, Meiji era, ht 9 1/2 in (24 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 434 Sterling silver Buddhist lion censer, Jōun signature on tablet, 19th century. Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
 Fig. 435 Silver-inlaid iron stirrups (abum1) with red lacquer interior, Edo era. Photo courtesy
Flying Cranes Antiques.
Miyao was a firm with premises in Tokyo and Yokohama specializing in
portraying parcel-gilt huntsmen, actors, children playing, children with pets,
family groups, etc. but mostly associated with samurai which have gilding, not
inlay, for their leather, brocade, and armor lacing. It has been found that he also
made beautiful ivory and wood carvings of child musicians, actors, and dancers.
This discovery is surprising, given his metalworker image!
Myōchin was a famous family of metalworkers that started in the sixteenth
century (Eishō era, 1504-21) by making horseshoes in Kyoto, and later tsuba
and the skullcap part of helmets. Members gradually spread round the country,
but had a large group in Tokyo. A Myōchin signature is more akin to a designer
label than a personal seal. There are said to be over twenty people with that
name now in Tokyo. After 1876, when swords were outlawed, they made all
kinds of decorative metalwork.
Like Ikeda Seisuke, the Ōzeki Co. made a big name for itself and won many
prizes, which from a modern point of view should have gone to the artisans
making the works concerned. Its other name, Musashiya Co., is seen on many
advertisements and pictures of Yokohama in the late nineteenth century. The
father, Yahei, had been a pipe dealer but started business with his son Sadajirō
shortly after Yokohama opened to foreign trade (1859). The firm handled every
fashionable Meiji era item and had 24 employees in 1880.
Suzuki Chōkichi (1848-1919) used the art name Kakō. He was fond of the
incense burner shape (kōro), low relief ornament, and expressive sculptural
forms and created many great works.
Un'no Moritoshi (1834-96) came from Mito, a sword fitting center. He went
to Tokyo after swords were banned and transferred those skills to vases and
other ornaments. His art name was Ryōunsai.
Un'no Shōmin (1844-1915) was a pupil of Kanō Natsuo and made an
Imperial Craftsman in 1896. He is known for very delicate, almost painterly,
work with the chisel, providing flowing detail. He used the art name Kaitekian
and sometimes signed off with teppitsu, which means "iron brush;' suggesting
that he felt his work had the painterly qualities of a brush artist.
Signatures may be illegible. Alternatively, some items bear two, as different
skills were applied by two artists, for example, one for the silver and another for
the wood (like Hayashi and Sadayoshi respectively). Another pair on a silver
piece read Sekiro and Harumasa.
Sometimes extra information is added, such as Nihon Koku Kyoto jū Komai
sei (made by Komai of Kyoto, Japan, instead of Kyoto). Sometimes the same
workshop wrote Nishinokyō or "western capital;' as opposed to Tokyo, the
eastern capital, or again Kaga no kuni Kanegawa jū Kuniyasu sei (made by
Kuniyasu in Kanegawa, province of Kaga, an area round present-day
Kanazawa).Another inscription is Dai Nihon Teikoku Ishikawa Ken (Ishikawa
Prefecture, Japan)

Metalworkers/Firms in Meiji Japan

The following lists signatures or marks by the craftsmen and firms responsible
for the flowering of Meiji metal and composite work as garnered from the
Kha1ili Collection, dealer and auction catalogues, and other English language
sources, in the hope of shedding light. With no Japanese originals available,
readings and vowel lengths (vital in Japanese) may need help.
The names are in alphabetical not artistic order and may refer to firms or
individuals. The terms sei, saku, and zō often follow inscriptions or signatures,
and mean "made by;" sen = "designed by;" kei ="modeled by;" teppitsu
="incised by;" tō'= "carved by;" cha or chūzō = "qst by;" koku = "sculpted by"
(also "province" or "country"); ki ="recorded, marked by;" jū ="living in;" koi
= "copying ancient manner;" saikusho = "workshop."
Akasofu Gyōkō
Arthur and Bond (on a silver tea and coffee tea service presumably for a firm)
Bijitsu Seizōjō Maruki Kōjō (Maruki Art Works Factory, with address appended) Bunkei (with Shōmin, for
Hattori Clock Store, Tokyo) Byakurō

Chikueisai Eishin
Chishinsai Katsunobu (Shinsai)
Chōkichi
Chōsai (one gold sakazuki is dated 1912)

Dai Nihon Kyōto jū Bunryū

Dai Nihon Teikoku Ishikawa ken

Fukuda Michiharu

Gyōkō
Gyokutōsai (carver), seal of Mitsukiyo Gyokutōsai (hen) and Issei (cockerel) in silver on wood stand

Habiroya (in association with Kakuba Kanzaemon) Haruaki (Watanabe Haruaki)

Hattori
Hayashi Harusada
Heian Yoyo koku, Kyoto Kuroda zō
Hideaki
Hidemitsu
Hidenao
Higashiyama Motonobu
Hira (Taira?)
Hiratsuka Mohei
Hōkyūdō Itsumin (also known for netsuke in wood and ivory) Hōryūsai (made for Takasaki Kōichi)
Hōtan (one work dated 1884)

Ichiga modeled, Seijō cast, Kaneda marked this Ichiryū Tomotoshi (1831-89) Ichiya (real name Sekiguchi
Tetsujirō, 1850-1925) Ikkaisai Harumitsu
Ikkokusai/Mitsuyoshi
Ikkokusai (made for Tekkooo)
Ikkokusai (=Kajima Ikkoku II, 1846-1925),
Inoue (also Kyoto Inoue)
Inshi Motonobu (who worked for the Ōzeki Co. and Imperial Household) Ippōshi Masanori Issa
Issei (Hasegawa Issei)
Ittōsai Masatoshi (Kaneyoshi Masatoshi, 1845-1908?) Ittōsai (Kaneyasu Masanaga)

Jomi Eisuke
Jomi Eisuke II (1839-99) (craftsman and dealer from Kyoto) Jōun (Ōshima Joun, 1858-1940)

Kajima Ikkoku (1846-1925)

Kajita Masuharu
Kakō chū (=cast by) art name Suzuki Chōkichi (1848-1919) Kakuba Kanzaemon
Kaneda (Kaneda Kenjirō) Kaneyasu Masatoshi (1845-1908?)
Kaniya Kuniharu (1869-after 1910)
Kanō Natsuo (1828-98) (one of the greats) Katsuhika Kō (?) Katsumitsu
Katsunori
Katsuo
Kazuo (Matsu'ura, pupil of Kanō Natsuo) Katsura Mitsuharu (1871-1962) and Kagawa Katsuhiro (1853-
1917) Kiritsu Kōshō Kaisha (government backed firm) Kitokuan Katsusada (Keiun)
Kōgyokusai (+ Katsuhisa seal and another for Ōzeki Co.) Kōichi designer, Yukinari sculptor, Kiritsu
Kōshō Kaisha (government export firm) Komai (Kyoto firm, wonderful formal work, and perhaps the
biggest output) Kōnoike
Kōzan I
Kōzon
Kuninori
Kuniyasu
Kuroda
Kurokawa Eishō
Kyoto Kobayashi Shunkō
Kyōto Rakusei Yū and Kyokudō Toshichiku

Maejima Seishū
Manzeki
Maruki Kaisha (firm)
Masami (sculptor), Miyamoto (silversmith)
Masamitsu
Masatsune
Matsumura
Mitsuaki
Mitsuharu/Kagawa Katsuhiro
Miyao (also personal name Eisuke) (a favorite of many) Miyabe Atsuyoshi
Mori
Mukai Katsuyuki
Musashiya (= Ōzeki Co.) Myōchin (Great artists, i.e. family for generations) Namekawa Sadakatsu (1848-
post 1900)
Nemoto

Ōtake Norikuni (b. 1852), commonly found Oyano Masayoshi (b. 1865)
Ōzeki (firm founded by Ōzeki Yahei; commissioned many works, won many prizes)

Ryōunsai, also Ryōunsai Moritoshi = Un'no Moritoshi (1834-96) (made for Ōzeki Co.) Ryōunsai Moriyuki

Saitō Zenbei (a commissioner of craft works) Seiji

Seikoku
Seimin (Watanabe)
Seiun, (Kanō Seiun) Seiya
Sekiguchi lchiya (1850--ca. 1932 and father of Shin'ya) and Kazuhiro for Tenshōdō
Sekiguchi Shin'ya (1877--ca. 1932)
Sekisai
Shōami Katsuyoshi Shōbi
Shōun
Shōyō (Suzuki) Sudō Seihō (also called Saiji, a student of Un'no Shōmin) Suhōdō Hakuzen (for Marunaka
firm, or Marunaka Magobei, 1830-1910) Suzuki Chōkichi (1848-1919)

Tadakatsu and Sadakatsu (Namekawa Sadakatsu, 1848-after 1900) Takugyokusai (Ryōyō and Ozeki) Taiun
(Yamada)
Takachika (a common signature)
Tekisui
Tomoe
Toshihiko (Nishimura 1889-1947)
Tounsai (and Nihon no Kuni Maruki sei on mother and child figure) Tsukada Shukyō (1848--1914)

Udagawa Kazuo (fl. 1900-10) Un'no Moritoshi (1834-96)

Un'no Shōmin (1844-1915) Unshō (vase with signature and Rao)

Watanabe

Yakitsugu and Kazuaki

Yamada Motonobu (1847-97)
Yamamoto Kōichi (designer), Sugiura Yukimune (engraver) for Kiritsu Kōshō Kaisha Yosai Yamaguchi
Kazuteru (1876-ca. 1930)
Yoshiaki (Yamanouchi of Mito and Edo)
Yoshimasa
Yoshimori for Tekkōdō---Un'no Yoshimori II (Bisei, 1864-1919) Yoshinao and Tōreisai Yoshitani
Yoshiyuki (with Masayoshi)
Yukiaki (for Nogawa Co.)
Yukinari (for Kōichi) Yasumitsu
SWORDS AND ARMOR

The Japanese sword and its fittings are unique. Europe has valued Toledo
swords for centuries but the Japanese sword is arguably finer and was revered as
an object worthy of worship. The eighth-century Kojiki and Nihon Shoki place
swords in the creation mythology of Japan. The Imperial regalia comprise a
sword, mirror, and jewel. Blades were excavated from Kofun era (AD 300-500)
burial mounds and deified; the Japanese sword has been a religious icon and had
a spiritual and artistic dimension for 1200 years. Walter A. Compton, a well-
known collector, says the oldest extant signed sword was made by Yukimasa in
1159.
Because of strong associations with militarism, after World War 11 the US
wanted to get rid of Japan's swords, either by throwing them into the ocean or
melting them down, but after much prevarication and some destruction finally
accepted their cultural value. The fittings and armor have also long been
collected.
Fig. 436 Child's armor with antlers on helmet, handed down in Tōdō daimyō family, 18th c.
Private collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.

Fig. 437a, b Long sword (above) by Yasuie from Hōki (Tottori), with classic narrow curving blade,
and signature (below), 12th c., blade length 30 1/2 in (77 cm). National Treasure. Photo courtesy
Kyoto National Museum.

History of Swords

According to Ogasawara Nobuo in Japanese Swords, around AD 600 the best

swords were either straight, single-edged and of Chinese provenance, or were
Kōrai tsurugi-swords made in Korea or by Koreans in Japan who probably
taught Japanese smiths, who then tried to surpass their masters. Prior to the ninth
century, swords (jōkotō) were primarily stabbing weapons, lacking the
curvature needed to slash. Many are National Treasures (Fig. 437a, b).
As thrusting in close combat gave way to slashing from horseback, requiring
lightness and balance, gently curving, single-edged, laminated and heat-treated
Japanese swords were developed. These blades, worn with the edge facing down
(called tachi), were drawn from the belt. The blades on eleventh-to twelfth-
century examples are slender and deeply curved, with a small point.
Although the Heian era ended in 1185, from 1156 on warriors, not the
Emperor or his family, effectively ruled. Kamakura era (1185-1332) blades
changed shape to suit new fighting styles and armor. The Mongols who invaded
in 1274 and 1281 wore leather armor and carried heavy swords; to combat them,
Japanese blades got wider, longer, and heavier (Fig. 439a, b).
In the Namboku-chō (1333-91) turmoil that followed, swords grew still
longer, with some blades reaching well over a meter in length. In the Warring
States (1467-1568) part of the Muromachiera (1333-1573), swords were used by
foot soldiers, so shorter blades were usually worn with the edge facing up (called
katana), allowing a continuous draw-and-cut motion. Blades were mass-
produced and of poor quality, except in Bizen (Okayama).
When Oda Nobunaga and Toyotomi Hideyoshi unified Japan in the
Momoyama era (1573-1603), peace and prosperity let sword-makers return to
artistry. Samurai began wearing daishō (both a long and a short sword-the long
katana and the short wakizashi (Figs. 440, 441).
In the Edo era (1603-1868), the quality of swords declined as smiths aimed
at artistic effects in the laminated steel and quenched steel edge (Figs. 443--445).
Kōdōgu (sword fittings) used lots of gold, silver, and lavish designs to please
rich merchants who were allowed to carry only one short sword. Toward the
end, some smiths returned to golden age methods. This movement revived many
lost secrets but was cut short by a law in 1876 banning the wearing of swords in
public places.
During the Meiji era (1868-1912), many smiths lost their livelihood. Some
turned to making farm or other tools, but many more were forced into alternative
occupations. Some still made blades for daggers, such as the mamori gatana
carried by women inside their kimono at weddings, or turned out okimono
(small decorative sculptures or objects) or metalwork for clothing chests.
The 1904-5 war with Russia increased demand for swords, as samurai family
officers felt they could not fight without having their long-revered blades.
Sword-making regained renown through Korea's colonization in 1910 and the
Manchurian puppet state's creation in the 1930s. War in China and the Pacific
prompted demand for swords (an officer's symbol of authority). However, few
smiths stuck with traditional methods and materials, so few blades made
between 1925 and 1945 are noteworthy.
Many Japanese obeyed the 1945 postwar order to turn in their swords, many
of them family treasures over a hundred years old. Others hid or buried them.
Pictures taken at the time show swords stacked in warehouses like firewood, and
blades shoveled into furnaces or bulldozed into Tokyo Bay. Luckily, the US
authorities realized that many blades were important works of art. Swords
scattered as victors took home souvenirs; more swords may be outside than in
Japan. Sword societies are active in the US and Europe but many blades are
rusting in storage.
 As the 1960s Japanese economy rocketed, interest in old arts sent Japanese
dealers abroad for the swords taken as war souvenirs. Japan now has over 200
swordsmiths of whom perhaps 10 percent make a living from the art. With
modern swords priced like centuries-old masterpieces, few collectors buy new
blades. This is worsened by official limits on output-two long swords a month.
This shortage boosts prices. Despite this anachronism, swords embody the
Yamato damashi'i or Japanese spirit.

Fig. 438 Four short sword (tantō) sheaths. Top: Textured lacquer sheath simulating tree bark,
Kotō blade (pre-1596), signed Yoshimitsu. Second: Komai style iron sheath with zodiac animals,
Kaga gold and shakudō (copper and silver alloy) inlay, Yamato school, Ken blade (pre-900), Kotō
era. Third: Black lacquer sheath with sea creatures and reeds in colored lacquers, signed Katsuo,
Ōmori school fittings. Bottom: Carved ivory sheath depicting courtyard with temple guards,
acrobats, warriors, and musicians, signed Gyokoku. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 439a, b Long sword with fittings (above) by Yasuhiro, and blade (below), late Kamakura era,
ca. 1300, blade length 26 in (66 cm). Private collection. Photos courtesy Kowa 21.

Making Japanese Swords Swords must take a sharp edge, yet be able to
bend enough and not break when struck. For 1,000 years, the Japanese sword has
had a high carbon, laminated steel skin wrapped around a low carbon core; it
was hammered into shape then differentially tempered, using an insulating jacket
of refractory clay and water quench. The sharp cutting blade, with its hard, sharp
carbon edge, comes from high purity steel and differential blade hardening. The
body is much softer than the edge, to absorb shock and allow it to bend.
Japanese smiths learned this technique 1,000 years before the West.
From the ninth century, traditional steel (tama-hagane) was made by steel
smelters in large, day-lined pits (tatara). Several openings in the pit allowed air
to be blown in through bellows. The local smelters then sold the steel to smiths
in the vicinity to make tools and weapons; thus steel differed from region to
region. By the sixteenth century, however, steel was made centrally in quantity
and distributed round the country.
In tatara, alternate layers of charcoal and river bed iron ore (satetsu) were
smelted and fired for three days, until the ore turned to steel. Two-ton slabs of
the steel, with uneven carbon distribution, were taken from the tatara and broken
into pieces. To remove impurities, the smith heated small chunks in a forge till
malleable, then flattened and grouped them, based on their hardness. These small
flat pieces were stacked in a billet on a small, flat steel plate and wrapped with
paper soaked in clay slurry-to hold the pieces together in the fire and prevent
oxidizing. At welding heat, the billet was removed and forge-welded into a solid
block which was reheated and beaten into.a bar, driving impurities out and
distributing the carbon evenly. Each sword-making school folds differently.
After repeated folds, a sword surface contains beautiful patterns, like Damascus
steel, but subtler.

Fig.440 Short sword by Sukehiro, 16th c., blade length 10 in (25 cm). Private collection. Photo
courtesy Kowa 21.

A sword's low carbon, soft steel core is then jacketed by higher carbon steel.
They are welded together, hammered into a blade, then cooled and heat-treated.
To harden the blade differentially, it is coated with clay. The cutting edge is
thinly coated, the rest of the blade thickly coated. When the clay is dry, the blade
is heated to a certain color, taken from the fire, and quenched with water so that
vapor hisses from the blade's surface.
After checking for flaws, correcting the blade's curvature and rough filing it
into shape, a smith sends it to a specialist polisher (togi-shi) who gives it a
mirror-like finish and razor edge with a series of waterstones. If the polishing
reveals no flaws, the smith chisels his name, date, and sometimes other data into
the blade's nakago or tang. A habaki-shi makes a small collar so the blade fits the
scabbard and a saya-shi or scabbard maker makes a wooden cover for the blade
in which a sword is kept when not used.
Fig. 441 Tachi (edge-up) sword (left) by Umetada Myōju, "father of Shintō" (new sword) from
Nishijin, Kyoto, signature (middle), and inscription (right) suggesting a masterpiece, 1598, blade
25 1/2 in (65 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.

When swords were made for wearing, the blade would be given koshirae or
mountings comprising a lacquered scabbard and a wooden handle, wrapped with
the skin of a ray and a silk cord (Fig. 446). These decorative sheaths were
magnificant.

Identifying Swords
Prior to 1600, five classic styles of sword-making evolved independently:
Yamato, Yamashiro, Bizen, Sōshū, and Mino. As smiths migrated to castle
towns, their distinctive traits weakened. Many smiths continued an earlier
tradition, while others combined methods, making it hard to tell who made a
sword after 1600.
Collectors and students hold regular kantei or appraisal meetings. Five
blades are put on a table, with the maker's name hidden. Participants have three
chances to name the maker. The shape of a blade tells you when it was made, but
the length, width, curvature, and point changed through the ages. Sometimes
smiths made copies of older blades, so one must consider the combined traits.
The steel's pattern, color, and features also suggest its origin. The hardened edge
(hamon) pattern can often point to an individual smith or group of smiths, like a
signature. Despite this, it takes years of study to correctly identify the smith in a
blind test.
Fig. 442 Elaborately mounted tantō. Top: Papered Kotō blade, signed Kanemoto, in gold lacquer
sheath, with matching fittings. Second: Papered (i.e. documented) aikuchi— mounted tantō,
lacquer sheath like bark, silver mounts, 19th c. Third: Aikuchi-mounted tantō, high-relief silver
dragon round wood-grained sheath, fittings signed Hagiya Katsuhei, 17th c., blade signed
Masanori. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 443a, b Sword with fittings (above) by Kobayashi lse-no-Kami Kuniteru, and blade (below),
early Edo era, blade length 26 in (66 cm). Private collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.
Fig. 444a, b Sword by Unshū Naganobu, showing back (left) and tang front (right), 19th c. Private
collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.

Fig. 445 Sword, unsigned (appraisal suggests Dewa Daijō Kunimichi), 17th c, blade length 27 in
(69 cm). Private collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.
Fig. 446 Koshigatana scabbard for short sword (aikuchi), hilt covered with silver-plated leaf,
cylinder with silver openwork, scabbard with shark skin, 14th c., 22 in (56 cm). Photo courtesy
Kyoto National Museum.

Sword Fittings
Sword fittings include tsuba (hand guards), menuki (pairs of metal ornaments
that fill out the handle or hilt), kōgai (blunt rods or awls for repairing armor
lacing), and kozuka (small knives) (Figs. 447-449, 456). These all fitted in the
pommel of the sword and were made to match by skilled artists, such as the Gotō
family who dominated sword fittings for seventeen generations (see Sagemono,
and the long article on tsuba with 43 illustrations in Daruma 39).
Most collectors focus on tsuba, which protect the wielder's hand, stopping it
slipping forward onto the blade or letting an enemy's sword slide down the
blade, injuring the life-limb of a swords-man. A tsuba subtly determined the
balance of the sword and the best striking zone, often a hand's breadth below the
tip.
Averaging 3 inches (8 cm) in diameter, tsuba were often round but also oval,
lobed, or other shapes. Some tsuba are very plain, just ordinary iron plates with
little frippery (Figs. 450, 451), but they can also be magic sculpture, when you
see their designs against an open sky (sukashi). Tsuba have a central hole
(nakago-ana) for the sword tang to pass through (special metal sekigane may
decorate the top), and sometimes extra holes for a kozuka and kōgai (kozuka
hitsu and kōgai hitsu). The ring round some tsuba is called a mimi or ear.
Provided a sword guard is of tough metal and does its job of protecting the hand,
the rest is up to the maker's imagination. Earlier on, simple round iron shapes
were common, with an occasional bronze or gold exception, but with centuries
of peace and the enrichment of Edo era merchants (who could wear one sword),
embellishment became the norm (Figs. 452-455). The result was a thing of
beauty that begs to be collected.
The Gotō family (starting with Yūjō in the fifteenth century) were the great
purveyors of fine metalwork to the shōgun and daimyō with their ie-bori (special
carving for nobles). They specialized in irogane which put colored, gold, silver,
and smelted copper chips on hand guards. Various schools of tsuba making
(Owari, Kanayama, Higo, Akasaka, and Kyoto) also developed, but perhaps
most famous was the Shō'ami School with branches in Awa, Aizu, and Akita.
The Yokoya School also stood out.
Yokoya Sōmin was part of the Gotō School but went independent in the
eighteenth century and started what would later be dubbed machi-bori, or
metalworking for townspeople. Others in his slipstream were the Ishiguro,
Ōmori, and Yanakawa groups. Outside Tokyo were the three Nara masters
nicknamed the Nara San-saku: Nara Toshinaga (1667-1730), Tsuchiya
Yasuchika (1670-1744), and Sugiura Jōi (1701-61). In the eighteenth century,
Hiroshima Hidemitsu was admired for his bird carving.
Edo still produced new styles: Gotō Ichijō (1791-1876) escaped from the
family tradition of not using iron. In his wake came Ikkin, Isshi, and Isshō as
well as Araki Tōmei, known for his foxtail millet ear portrayals. Other noted
nineteenth-century metal workers are Tanaka Kiyotoshi (fl. 1830s), who
developed a reputation for his tūryūsai style, Un'no Shōmin (1844-1915), and
Kanō Natsuo (1828-98), who made small tsuba suggest Siberian spaces.
Menuki (metal ornaments) come in pairs, and are often mirror images (Figs.
447-449, 456). The one on the sword facing away from the body was considered
male and the other, facing inward, female. Menuki are hard to justify logically,
yet they played a role in filling out the handle, and providing balance and beauty.
Originally, the most admired subjects on menuki were dragons and flower lions
(shishi) as they emblemize power, but stylized pine and other leaves, sea
creatures, corn plants, and aubergines or peonies, family crests or vajra
(symbolic thunderbolts from old Buddhism) are just as compelling artistically.
Lengths vary from 1 to 3 inches (2 to 8 cm). Common materials are gold, silver,
shakudō (gold and copper alloy), shibuichi (up to 30 percent silver is added to
the copper), copper, and mixtures of these. On purchase, articles should not be
cleaned thoroughly as you may be rubbing away centuries of patina. Many of the
best menuki were made for daimyō and not signed, out of respect. Sometimes
molds were kept and items from the same school later formed from them, using
repoussé (katabori) techniques which could be signed. People tend to think the
best menu-ki were made by the mainstream Gotō school but many offshoot
members were more original-like the Kaga Gotō school of Kanazawa. Collectors
prize kozuka, fuchi (the protective metal at the hand guard) and gashira (the
metal collar at the blade end of a hilt) as they all share similar artisans and
images.

Fig. 447 Mitokoro (three-piece set) of menuki, fuchigashira, and kozuka (sword hilt knifelet), scattered
jewels design, shakudō nanako surface, Edo era. Private collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.

Fig. 448 Futatokoro (two-piece set) of menuki and fuchigashira, crane design, shakudō nanako
surface, Edo era. Private collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.
Collecting Swords
As with any other collectible, start by buying books, joining sword societies,
visiting museums, and networking with advanced collectors. It is wise to focus
on a restricted period, school, or geographical area, otherwise there is too much
to learn. Train your eye to differentiate between good and bad by looking at
many good swords. Learn what flaws to look for in a blade before buying.
Having a mentor helps. A good friend is hard to find in any collecting field
since competition and the profit motive bring out the worst in human nature, but
with persistence and sincerity you should be able to find someone with scruples
willing to help you. Avoid uneducated purchases, especially from collectors you
do not know well. New collectors may be a dumping ground for the now-
knowing's early mistakes. Above all, never buy from a dealer without an
introduction from someone you trust. Sword dealers are notorious and have been
for hundreds of years.

Fig. 449 Set of tsuba (hand guard), menuki (hilt ornaments), and fuchigashira (metal collars at blade
and back ends of a sword hilt), daffodil design, takabori iro-e shakudō nanako with polished surface,
Edo era. Private collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.

Care and Preservation Japanese swords need regular "tuning" to prevent

rust developing. The polished surface must never be touched, sanded, or
otherwise abraded. Amateur attempts to restore a blade are useless since the
surface geometry will be changed and thus ruined. Blades should be restored by
professional polishers, who undergo ten-year apprenticeships and are artists in
their own right.
Preventing rust and scratches is vital. Blades need cleaning and oiling every
few months. To do this, dust blades with a fine powder made from ground
limestone (uchiko), then gently wipe with a clean flannel. Finally, smear a very
thin coat of special oil (chōji abura) on the blade with an oil-soaked flannel or
tissue.
The Nihon Bijutsu Tōken Hozon Kyōkai (Society for Preservation of
Japanese Art Swords) recommends the following: Despite regular care and
oiling, a blade may rust. If it rusts where the scabbard touches the blade, it
should be repaired by a scabbard specialist. If the scabbard is old, it may contain
rust and dirt, thus causing rust: get a new scabbard.
The formal mounting is an outfit for dressing up. A blade needs a plain
wooden scabbard and hilt for daily wear. Keep a blade in its casual outfit so that
when the blade starts to rust, the scabbard can readily be cleaned by splitting it
open into vertical halves. These are simply fastened again with rice paste. Never
use chemicals to fasten the scabbard or hilt.
If a blade starts to rust, no simple repair such as rubbing rust off with a spatula
or coin can help. It is likely to damage it and necessitate extra smoothing. Go to
a polisher at once.
A blade rusts easily after being polished, so clean and oil it every ten days for
six months.
Later, when the surface is more stable, clean the blade every six months.
A sword should be stored flat. If left aslant, oil will run down the blade and
pool. Store a sword in drawers made of paulownia wood. Avoid using camphor
balls or naphthalene to protect the chest from borers: they cause rust.
Blades like dryness; wooden scabbards, handles, and mountings need
moisture.

Other Arms
The naginata or halberd is some 6 1/2 feet (2 m) long and has a sharply curved
blade tip. Much less artistry and money was spent on this weapon. Though less
popular for fighting after the fifteenth century (except among warrior priests), its
use became a martial art and is now largely thought of as a sport for women.
The spear or yari, too, is quite often reproduced but is more admirable in my
eyes for its effectiveness than as art, as are the few shields (tate) I have seen.
Bows, however, were made with a great sense of grace: the curvature and
balance are most pleasing, though at first having the grip two-thirds up the shaft
looks odd. A length of 7 feet (2.1 m) is common. The lamination, lacquering,
and cord work on bows make them very decorative.
Archery (kyūdō) comes in the form of firing at targets about 92 feet (28 m)
away, but form and appearance are more important than accuracy. kyūdō is often
performed at shrine ceremonies in a religious atmosphere. Yabusame is
horseback archery in shrine precincts when riders fire at three targets, as a form
of religious exercise and prayer. The oldest recorded (not mythical) exercise was
in 1096, though legend says 698. Horseback archery is practised at Shimogamo
Shrine, Kyoto, every year on May 3rd. Twenty archers on horseback take part in
this preparation for the famous Aoi Festival that starts May 15th.

Fig. 450 Tsuba with sukashi (openwork or silhouette) design of stylized horse, Edo era. Private
collection. Photo courtesy Kowa 21.
Fig. 451 Tsuba with sukashi design of bamboo trellis, Edo era. Private collection. Photo courtesy
Kowa 21.
Fig. 452 Tsuba by Tetsugendō Naoshige, with design of Wind God and Great Buddha, designated
an important armorial object. Photo courtesy Hōman-dō.
Fig. 453 Tsuba by Narita Eizui (fl. early 19th c.), with design of scattered chrysanthemums. Photo
courtesy Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum.

Fig. 454a, b Back and front of tsuba by Jiryūken Hidemitsu (fl. 1770s), with design of hō -ō
(Oriental phoenix) and auspicious clouds. Photo courtesy Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum.
Fig. 455a, b Back and front of tsuba by Seiryūsai Hidetoshi (fl. 1830s), with design of wild goose
over the moon. Photo courtesy Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum.

Sword Terminology
Western collectors mainly use Japanese words for swords.

From Tip to Tang

kissaki (point) boshi (pattern of hardened edge on point) yokote (line dividing
point from blade proper) sakihaba (blade width at yokote) ji (blade surface
above hardened edge) shinogi (ridge line running down blade) ha (blade)
hamon (pattern on blade edge) shinogi-ji (area above ridge) sori (curvature of
blade at extreme) mine (back of blade) hamachi (notch marking start of
sharpened edge) munemachi (notch marking top of tang) motohaba (blade
width where sharpened edge starts) nakago (tang. i.e. non-cutting metal under
handle) mei (smith's signature); mumei (no signature) nagasa (length of blade
from tang notch to point) Blade Shapes

chōjiba (having a clove-like pattern), gunomeba (wavy), hitatsura (fully

hardened), midareba (irregularly wavy), notareba (regularly undulating),
suguba (straight).
Blade Patterns

masame (straight grain), itame (wood grain like quarter sawn timber),
mokume (wood grain like a tree trunk sawn on end, giving concentric
circles), ayasugi (a sinusoidal pattern). Some patterns are large and obvious,
others nearly invisible.

Sword Ages

kotō (swords made before the Battle of Sekigahara, 1600), shintō (swords
made 1600-1739), shinshintō (swords made 1739-1867), kindaitō swords
made 1868-1945), gendaitō (swords made after World War II).

Other Sword Words

same (shark or ray skin wrapping on handle), habaki (metal collar holding
blade in scabbard), seppa (flat metal spacers on sides of tsuba), koiguchi
(mouth of scabbard), kojiri (end of scabbard), kogatana (small utility knife
found in scabbard) kozuka (handle ofkogatana).
 Guns reached Japan with Portuguese sailors who, in 1543, were shipwrecked
on Tanegashima, off Southern Kyūshū. The island's name became generic for
these firearms (matchlocks) which were soon being made everywhere but are
also called hinawajū or teppō. Some are extraordinarily appealing as decoration.
They continued to be made till the mid-nineteenth century in roughly the same
way due to Tokugawa restrictions. A common barrel length is 3 feet (1 m) with
an extra 16 inches (41 cm) for the wooden stock. Often a lot of artistry and
money was spent on silver and other decoration.
Although not a problem in the West, weapons like swords must be
accompanied by a certificate, and bringing them in or taking them out of Japan is
complicated and time-consuming. "Papering" or documentation is vital and may
involve financial maneuvering.

Unconventional Weapons The above were made by artisans with access to metal
and gun powder technology, but other, more basic, arms were also made. Serge
Mol in Classical Weaponry of Japan describes the various non-mainstream
weapons used over the centuries, captured in 340 illustrations. Of the chain
weapons, the best-known examples are the kusarigama (chain and sickle) and the
fundōgusari (weighted chain). Other weapons include the vajra, jitte (truncheons
used by Edo era policemen), shuriken (a ninja's often star-shaped throwing
blade), and knuckle-dusters.

Armor
Suits of armor (yoroi and dōmaru or chest armor), and tōsei gusoku ("modern
armor"), differ from European armor in relying less on metal for defense, being
flexible for riding and emphasizing the dignity of the wearer (Figs. 460, 461).
The armorers tried to show the wearer was special by fitting intriguing antlers
and other ferocious decorations to the helmet while adding dignity with rolled
back flaps (Figs. 436, 457-459). Crescent-shaped neck guards, and chest, rib,
arm, and underarm guards were other decorative areas with a defined purpose.
The protective pieces are made of leather and corded together, but some areas
like the cuirass were often of iron. Suits of armor are very imposing.
In many ways, the helmets are more arresting than the suits themselves
because they use the most imagination. Almost every castle in Japan has suits of
armor that may thrill visitors.
Fig. 456 Futatokoro set of menuki and kozuka by Sōmin (b. Edo, 1670), depicting Niō (guardian
king) carved in high relief, brown copper kozuka has dot pattern, 18th c. Photo courtesy Kyoto
National Museurn.
Fig. 457 Helmet made of 48 black lacquered iron plates, gold-rimmed joints, 16th c. Photo
courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
Fig. 458 Menpō or half-helmet visor with tassets by Myōchin Ki-no-Munesuke, 18th c. Private collection.
Photo courtesy Kowa 21.
Fig. 459 Kawarimono (strange-shaped) helmet with visor, 17th c. Private collection. Photo courtesy
Kowa 21.
Fig. 460 Parts of a suit of armor with little iron. There would be big differences if it had lots of metal.
Fig. 461 Dōmaru body armor laced with black leather thongs and purple, red, and white threads, 15th c.,
ht 12 in (30 cm), skirt 11 in (28 cm). Photo courtesy Kyoto National Museum.
TEA CEREMONY UTENSILS

Over the last 500 years Chadō or Sadō, the way of tea, or chanoyu, the
tea ceremony, has done much to both form and influence Japanese
taste. Strict rules about details and procedures, a concentration on this
moment, a focus on that object, are all part of a Zen-inspired
discipline to achieve enlightenment. Intense scrutiny of the utensils in
front of the drinker (tea bowls are picked up after use, examined and
commented on, while initiates study the flowers, scrolls, and every
surrounding detail) leads to a greater awareness of the intrinsic
properties of the utensils, the surroundings, and their place in the
world. This rivets attention on aesthetics. Tea people treasure the
items they use, developing sensitivity to them by scrutinizing them
thoroughly each time they visit an exhibition or drink with Tea
friends. They do this and discuss the works to sensitize themselves to
the wonder of everyday life-—to extend the world of the tearoom into
every action. Similar attitudes are seen in many traditional arts, such
as ikebana, where adepts get to know containers and every aspect of
their flowers in a far deeper fashion (often even aiming at geometrical
ratios in arrangements) than the casual onlooker who simply throws
flowers together.

Fig. 462 Picnic box with various patterns (fukiyose) in togidashi maki-e (rubbed down lacquer
picture). For use at outdoor tea ceremonies but also by non-tea enthusiasts. Photo courtesy
Tankōsha Publishing.
Fig. 463 Natsume (tea caddy) by Kawabata Kinsa, with design of chrysanthemums in togidashi
maki-e (polished gold lacquer). Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.

Fig. 464 Natsume by Kawabata Kinsa, with design of takara-bune (treasure ship). Photo courtesy
Tankōsha Publishing.
Fig. 465 Natsume by Kawabata Kinsa, with design of yugao (bottle gourd) in maki-e (gold-
sprinkled lacquer). Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.

Over the centuries, varying Tea schools have developed-aristocratic, warrior,

sencha (Chinese style green tea), and merchant, but most people now follow the
path of wabi cha, focusing on the apparently humble and rustic. Wabi cha trends
began in the 1400s but are best exemplified by Sen Rikyū (1522-91) who
insisted on simplicity, balance, and daring. When asked by Toyotomi Hideyoshi
to show him his newly imported morning glories, Rikyū cut off all the blooms
(some say the bushes) in the garden round the tea house: Hideyoshi could admire
only the most exquisite one.
To the uninitiated, his understated ideal for a tea house looks more like a tool
shed in a wood than a pleasure chamber, yet the care and attention to detail,
hidden references to Chinese cosmology, and the absolute cleanliness required
by Tea remove it from the everyday world. Rikyū chose a door so small you
have to crouch to get through (requiring the mighty to humble themselves) and
made the room small so that warlords rubbed elbows with commoners and rank
lost its meaning. The hierarchical side of Japanese life is put aside during a
gathering: people are not supposed to wear a watch, jewelry, or visible regalia.
Soldiers had to leave their prized swords on a rack outside.
Rikyū's predecessors liked the rustic Bizen, Tamba, and Shigaraki wares
basic to the Japanese aesthetic (see Ceramics) while he himself preferred Seto
and had Raku ware created specifically for tea. Rikyū also chose lacquer,
bamboo, and gourds over celadon or bronze flower containers, and objects from
daily life which reflect yō no bi, "the beauty of the useful:'
Later Tea masters like Kobori Enshū in the seventeenth century deeply
influenced Japanese pottery, scouring the countryside for pots and potters who
could make interesting new shapes, consistencies or colors, and often persuading
new sources to change direction and make things in new ways for the tea master.
A tea room has a brazier, kettle, water pitcher, slop bowl, tea caddy, water
pourer, bamboo whisk (like a shaving brush), and bamboo tea scoop, but of
course the tea bowl is the most important item (all guests share one in wabi cha,
but there is one for each guest in sencha) (Figs. 466, 475). All of these and many
ancillary items are collected, especially if used by somebody famous, so even a
bamboo tea whisk handled only twice (and by nature a throwaway because the
tines are so fragile) becomes collectible. Tea bowls are made by every potter
everywhere so are a study on their own.

Zen and Tea In the twelfth century, tea was introduced to Japan as a Chinese
herbal medicine by the monk who brought the newly popular sect of Zen. Tea
helped monks stay awake during prolonged Zen meditation. By 1330 the shōgun
and his warriors drank tea in a luxurious atmosphere of Chinese art and antiques.
Teas from different areas were offered and drinkers tried to guess their origin,
betting large sums, so those who guessed right got extravagant prizes.
Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa (builder of Ginkakuji, the Silver Pavilion) and
his intimates, are said to have popularized the smaller format for tea houses.
Over the next two centuries, a less and less Chinese-centered style of Tea grew
up among the new merchant class in Kyoto, Nara, and Sakai.
So popular had tea drinking become that in 1587 Toyotomi Hideyoshi
invited everybody interested in tea to bring his treasures and meet at Kitano
Shrine, Kyoto, for a Grand Tea Gathering. Scheduled for ten days, Hideyoshi
abruptly cancelled it after one day, but more than 800 Tea masters came and
served thousands.
Hideyoshi ardently collected antique Chinese paintings, calligraphy, and
ceramics. From his golden tea room, he was also host to several hundred guests,
but drank at only two places. This was the first time that so many Tea followers
had come together and social barriers were so completely breached by Tea. The
place of Tea in the political and aesthetic patterns of Japan had changed forever.
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Tea rather lost its sense of direction,
but again in the Meiji era, the newly rich tended to gravitate toward Tea in an
effort to prove that they were cultured as well as moneyed.
Fig. 466 Nakaoki setting for Koicha (strong tea in the most formal style tea ceremony) in October.
Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.

In recent years, Tea has lost some of its luster as a cultural communication
point and, with the long recession following the Bubble of the late 1980s, the
number of Tea followers has dropped.

Prices
Tea is a field of entertainment and hospitality, a status-enhancing pursuit, and a
collector's world, so the prices of good scrolls, bowls, caddies, scoops, and other
paraphernalia are high. If one wants any old scroll, it is yours for, say, $200. But
if one wants the best, or even the moderately good, old or new, one must know
the local market. Historical precedent is a factor in a piece's value. If one is
serious about collecting anything with a long history of appreciation, like Old
Masters or Impressionists, one must expect to pay high prices.
Good craftsmanship is so valued in Japan that masters can charge what the
market will bear. Family lineage is a factor-as well as the time spent on creating
a masterpiece. Raku clay is supposed to be at least 100 years old before it is
ready to make into tea bowls. The clay and grog necessary for casting bronze
and iron come from generations of old molds broken up and reused year after
year. These factors all count, but another is the connoisseurship and personality
of tea masters. Even before Rikyū, utensils were carefully kept in boxes and
boxes within boxes. The handwritten identification on them guaranteed
authenticity and linked one to a revered past. Does not a first edition gain greater
value when signed by the author? Did the auction of Andy Warhol's watches and
jewelry not bring in more than if sold by the ounce or carat? It is often said that a
box is more important than the tea bowl it contains.
When people choose a utensil they will use to impress others, they have the
option to buy it with or without a box signed by a grand tea master, but status
and resale value tend to favor the utensil in the signed over the unsigned box.
Tea masters will often not sign the boxes of modern artists who are dead, nor can
living artists get everything they make signed. Only good pieces by expert
craftsmen who have proven their worth and gratitude to those who sign boxes,
will get the coveted sign of approval: not just any craftsman or piece is eligible.
Tea masters hesitate to sign antique pieces with modern boxes. If they do, it is
based less on rigorous scientific examination than on shared opinion. This may
be seen as a Tea master's attempt to promote his personal taste in utensils during
his life, rather than absolute proof of authenticity or value.
Unlike the West, there is a sense of loyalty to one lineage or another, which
is manifest in patronage: the request to sign a box or to use only pieces with
signed boxes. Westerners find this system a bit much. As in anything connected
with art and its fleeting values, it rankles to have an arbiter of taste whose
coveted signature will double or triple the cost of an object. Yet antique dealers
and gallery owners also raise prices and charge commissions.
How people react to this system is up to the individual. Many Tea people do
complain bitterly, but what cannot be changed must be accepted. For those to
whom money is no object, it is a small consideration when status is at stake.
Nevertheless, it is distasteful to think of something quadrupling in price because
a Tea master has been paid a fair bit of "thank you" money by a dealer, potter, or
current owner to sign its box.

Advice on Collecting Many different materials are used in the items for
the tea ceremony. My advice is to choose materials with which you are
comfortable.
If you like metal, iron and other metals are used to make kettles and pitchers
and there are many to be seen in Japanese antique stores. Some are in terrible
condition but it is important to remember that rust comes in two kinds: red rust is
destructive and it may impair the structure, but other rust may become an extra
skin. The inside may look unattractive, but a lot of the scale can be removed by
boiling water, tea, saké, etc. in it several times, mixed with herbs perhaps. Do
not scrape off rust with a knife as this may do lasting damage. Sometimes a
kettle has a lid in an attractive alloy: if you like it, that is a good reason to buy.
There are dozens of shapes to choose from and you might like to look around a
fair bit before venturing forth. Prices can be quite low for kettles without a
pedigree.
If you like lacquer, many tea caddies (natsume) (Figs. 463--465) and incense
holders (kōgō) (Fig. 468) are superb. Their shape invites you to let them nestle
in your hand. Prices can be high for famous names but new ones can also be
very pretty and are not expensive. In the Tea world, Kyoto is still Japan's cultural
capital, so for caddies and kettles it is a great place to see the wide range of
things available at stores there.
Fig. 467 Chashaku (tea scoop) by Iguchi Kaisen, named "Aka-zukin" (literally "red hood"), with
box and external lid. Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.
Fig. 468 Raft-shaped kōgō (incense case) by Maehata Gahō, bamboo. Photo courtesy Tankōsha
Publishing.

If you like paper and calligraphy, scrolls are an obvious place to start (see
Screens and Scrolls). Some will have mainly words, others a seasonal flower or
scene. The latter are a better place to start unless you are comfortable with
ideographs you cannot read, or you understand enough Japanese for the
characters to have appeal. The brushwork of the sumi letters, with their
gradations of width and tint, can be fascinating, but that is true of the floral
pieces too-particularly those with trees or bamboo.
The cheapest scrolls are on paper and are printed, not hand-painted. Slightly
better ones are on silk, on a paper backing. Better scrolls are hand-painted on
silk and have good rollers, perhaps made of ivory if old or nicely turned wood or
ceramic. The condition of a scroll is vital. If it is torn, avoid it unless you have
some very good reason for buying. Signatures and seals are probably of little
interest to Western buyers (and remember that many are false) but you should at
least know who is supposed to have signed a piece. With printed scrolls this is
immaterial, as it is not a real signature or seal anyway.
A number of people find that hanging scrolls do not go with Western
interiors, so you may want to find a corner where a scroll would fit nicely. It
could be in your bedroom or study, or in an odd corner of the bathroom or stairs,
so away from the main guest area. If you like it enough, probably visitors will
too. Do not forget that Japanese change scrolls frequently, so even if your space
is very limited you can ring changes on it, and rolled-up scrolls take little space.
You may find it deeply satisfying to effect a change of mood or season by
getting out a scroll with different colors and associations.
Avoid hanging scrolls near an air-conditioning vent as moisture may cause
damp spots or make the backing paper twist. Besides, it may be kept in perpetual
motion and bang against the wall and wreck your concentration.
If you like bamboo, you will in all probability like whisks, tea scoops
(chashaku), baskets, and vases. I doubt if people would form a whole collection
of them but they are typical of Japan in their most careful craftsmanship and
size. The color of the bamboo on the whisks matters to me. I like some
interesting brown spots, not a pale clear color. Care must be taken that the
bamboo does not dry out and split.
If you like ceramics, you could be in heaven as the water pitcher
(mizusashi) (Fig. 469, 470), slop bowl, and tea bowl (Fig. 472, 473) itself are
all fields for you (see Ceramics). Tea bowls have no handles and vary quite a bit
in size but are always bigger than Western tea or coffee cups. Each bowl is
considered to have a front, usually with the most interesting picture or part of
glaze or a particular feature in the clay that draws the eye. The lip matters. You
drink from it so it should be pleasant to the tongue, but at the same time potters
ensure the line of the lip is not boring. This means that its height may vary and
there may also be a to-and-fro movement as seen from the bowl's center.
Old bowls very often have names handed down from long ago, giving them
cachet. Nowadays, potters often make up fanciful names to help sell them, as do
other craftsmen in the Tea world. I react badly to this but realize it makes
something more personal.
Water pitchers and slop bowl shapes are used in the West so are perhaps less
interesting for collectors.

Fig. 469 Namban mizusashi (water pitcher) by Katsuo Seiryūdō, with pattern of nawa-sudare
(rope). Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.
Fig. 470 Mizusashi by Sugimoto Sadamitsu, with pattern of yahazu (nock of arrow) on lip,
Shigaraki ware. Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.

Fig. 471 Shin'nari gama (style of tea kettle) and Chōsen-buro (Korean style brazier). Photo
courtesy Musha no Kōji Senke.
Fig. 472 Rect angular wooden charcoal brazier (nagahibachi) used to provide warmth and boil
water in a tea room. A trivet in the center, placed over smoldering charcoal, supports the kettle.
Photo courtesy Murata Noboru.
Fig. 473 Polychrome tea bowl, with design of wild cherry tree (yamazakura), Seikanji kiln. Photo
courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.

Fig.474 Caramel glazed tea bowl by 6hi Kanbei V, named "Jusan" ("celebrating mountain").
Photo courtesy Tankōsha Publishing.
Fig. 475 Tsutsumi (hand drum-shaped) lid rest. Photo courtesy Tankosha Publishing.
DOLLS
Doll collectors have a wide choice. Millennia-old traditions give dolls rich layers
of physical beauty, symbolic meaning, and associations familiar to most
Japanese. Doll history is part of Japanese cultural topography. Ningyō means
"human figure;' and applies to a wider variety of cultural objects than elsewhere.
Ningyō date back thousands of years to small stone and clay figurines, mostly
female, called dōgu, used in little understood fertility rituals before Christ. Later,
kiln-fired clay figures called haniwa became closely associated with funerals,
replacing human sacrifices. Heian era records document hitogata (dolls) used in
funerals. Doll culture peaked in the Edo era (1603-1868)when they were made for
ritual, display, and play. Beautiful messengers bring valuable insights into
values, beliefs, and interests of a bygone day.
Alan Pate, of Akanezumiya, divides dolls into four categories: hina, which
are bound up with the still-thriving Hina Matsuri or Girl's Day Festival; gosho,
originally presentation dolls within the Imperial family; musha, warrior dolls
linked to the former Tango no Sekku or Boy's Day Festival; and ishō, literally
"costume" dolls, reflecting popular fads. They share common ancestors, but
evolved distinct functions, structures, and associations. Hina and musha are
linked to specific festivals and have purifying overtones. The gosho was a gift,
exchanged and displayed all year, believing it brought the recipient good luck.
The broad ishō group includes beautiful women, imitations of popular kabuki
and No performances, specific actors, other popular culture themes, and amulets
(to guard children from infection, for example).
Fig. 476 Takeda ningyō of Taira no Tomomori (1152-85) at Battle of Dan-no-Ura (1185), when
Tomomori straps second suit of armor to his back, grabs an anchor, and jumps into sea to commit
suicide, early 19th c., ht 22 in (56 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Hina Dolls
The hina doll is probably the most universally recognized doll as tourist sources
show images of a seated royal couple (mistakenly called "emperor and
empress"), elaborately attired in "period" court costume, with attendant figures,
and displayed on a tiered, red-draped stand (Figs. 477-482). Forming the central
focus of the Hina Matsuri or Girl's Day Festival, held on the third day of the
third month, the hina is Japan's most refined doll.
Yet hina are simple. A roughly shaped straw body is tightly covered with
tailored silk brocades that give the body form. Hands are carved separately of
wood and covered in a white substance known as gofun (crushed oyster shell
and rice paste). The heads are similarly fashioned of wood or wood fiber known
as toso, then covered in gofun before the features are painted on. Their long
necks are inserted deep into the body. From the mid-1800s, inset glass eyes were
added. Real human or silk fiber hair is arranged in traditional styles. The male
(o-bina) clutches a scepter (shaku), and the female (me-bina) a fan.
Called the dairi-bina (hina from "the inner palace"), this royal pair
represented the Imperial class, not a specific couple. Their display is seen as a
visit, with food and accessory elements (dogu) set out to add comfort and
entertainment. Although popular attitudes have shifted over time, the dairi-bina
were held to be temporary residences (yorishiro) for the spirits or gods (kami)
who were invited during the festival to help cleanse the household and its
members for the coming year.
The dolls and their retinue are brought out for display over a period of
several weeks and are often joined by other categories of dolls owned by the
family. Several sets may be displayed together in multi-generational households,
with new sets being acquired for a girl during her first festival celebration,
known as hatsu-zekku.
The Hina Mats uri dolls in the first decades of the Edo era resulted from
pairing two separate doll forms: amagatsu and hōko (see Fig. 478). The
amagatsu is a simple T shape composed of bundled bamboo or silk-wrapped
pieces of wood. The head is a stuffed silk pouch with painted features. Either a
fitted kimono made for the figure or children's clothing is draped over the body.
The amagatsu was placed by the bedside of the child as an amulet, absorbing
evil influences. A boy's dolls were burned when he came of age.
The hōko is more diminutive. Associated with girls, it is made of stuffed silk
roughly shaped like a crawling baby with long black real or silk hair. It also
served as an amulet. The strong upright amagatsu and more feminine hōko
probably preceded the male/female pairing of the dairi-bina for Girl's Day. The
earliest hina in the festival, called tachi-bina (standing hina), closely resemble
the amagatsu!hoko pairing: the male figure has his arms straight out to the sides
and the female has a tubular textile wrap strongly suggesting the silk-wrapped
hōko with her diminutive arms.
The Hina Matsuri took the shape we know today during the Edo era's
opening decades. Though documentary evidence is scarce, 1629 is seen as
significant. A year before Princess Okiko became Empress Myōshō, at the
tender age of seven (r. 1630-48), celebrations were held in her honor at the
Imperial palace in Kyoto. Her uncle, Shōgun Tokugawa Iemitsu (1603-51) sent
her a puppet and a hina set from Edo. Kasuga no Tsubone (1579-1643), nurse-
maid to Iemitsu and temporarily living then in Kyoto, ordered an elaborate set of
hina dōgu from Gotō Nuidonosuke (see Kubota Beishō's Ningyōshi [History of
Dolls, Ningyō Makers]). This custom is said to have moved back to Edo and the
shogunate upon then ursemaid's return in 1634. The ordering by Iemitsu of hina
ningyō for his many children, and by the daimyō who aped him, probably
spurred the growth of a hina market in Edo.

Fig. 477 Pair of kyōho-bina for Hina Matsuri, late 18th c., me-bina (female) ht 10 in (25 cm), a-bina
(male) ht 12 1/2 in (32 cm), in front of hina-byōbu (six-panel folding screen), pigments on gold leaf,
1870-80, 15 x 37 in (38 x 94 cm). Hannig Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 478 Pair of tachi-bina (standing hina) for Hina Matsuri (Girl's Day Festival), 19th c., ht 9 in (23
cm). Private collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 479 Pair of jirōzaemon-bina for Hina Matsuri, slightly rounder faces than normal, either made
by a competitor of Jirōzaemon imitating his style, or one referred to as imo-bina (potato hina),
early 19th c., me-bina ht 13 in (33 cm), o-bina ht 14 in (35 cm). Carabet Collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.

Fig. 480 Pair of kokin-bina for Hina Matsuri, mid-19th c., me-bina ht 13 1/2 in (34 cm), o-bina ht 15
in (38 cm). Private Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

By the late seventeenth century, Nihonbashi was the center of Edo dolls. In
Kyoto, it was along Teramachi and Shijō. Makers were appointed official
suppliers to the shōgun and Imperial court in their respective cities, while others
met the growing demand from merchants as well. Over time, these markets
helped create new forms to keep the public interested. From the mid-1600s to the
early 1800s, five distinct hina forms can be discerned: kan'ei, kyōho, jirōzaemon,
yūsoku, and kokin.

Kan'ei-bina
These are named after the Kan'ei era (1624-44), when they first appeared. This
was a time for stressing the dignity and long genealogy of the daimyō families
by drawing up extensive family lists.
Kan' ei-bina were small dolls: extant examples average 5-6 inches (13-15
cm) in height. They are among the first seated hina (suwari-bina). The male and
female figures wore matching textiles featuring extensive use of kinran (gold
leaf paper lamellae). Their heads were simple with painted features over gofun.
The hair and crown of the o-bina were integral to the head and painted black. A
long sword was passed through the body by cutting the shelf-like trousers at the
left hip, then curved sharply up behind the figure to his shoulder. Though
simpler than later forms, they were considered quite luxurious at the time. Kan'
ei-bina slowly increased in size and sophistication of face and overall shape, as
the Edo era was a time of growing wealth and competition to show it by
choosing more and better styles.

Fig. 481 Group of shichinin-bayashi (musicians) for Hina Matsuri, early 19th c., ht 11 in (28 cm).
Unusual rendition of seven musicians, instead of the usual five, all depicted as women, though
traditionally musicians were young boys. Car abet Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Kyōho-bina By the Kyōho era (1716-36), a new form took center stage (Fig.
477). Keeping the basic kan'ei-bina silhouette but wearing sumptuous silk
brocades and increasing dramatically in size, the kyōho-bina soon displaced it,
being very popular among merchants who, by the early eighteenth century, had
adopted many upper-class customs. Vying to show their new moneyed might,
merchants ordered larger and larger hina, some near life-size-leading to
government reprisals for daring to get above their station, so sumptuary laws
limited the overall size, lacquer quality, and metal accessories.
Kyōho-bina are noted for their more sensitive facial carving, higher gofun
quality, and real or silk fiber hair. Crowns and caps were separate and made of
lacquer or metal. The me-bina's crown became elaborate with long metal arms,
dangling glass, and bead ornaments. Doll-making became more detailed.

Jirōzaemon-bina These were named after the idiosyncratic maker who modeled
this distinctive hina with overly rounded heads and diminutive facial features
after the hook nose, dash eye (hikime kagibana) painting style of most artists of
the Heian era (Fig. 479) (and indeed later too, egimukyo-e). Their textiles and
body shape conveyed greater realism and conservatism than kyōho-bina.
Although records like the Kyōhabutai list a Hishiya Jirōzaemon in 1674, the
hina form known as jirōzaemon did not appear until the later eighteenth century,
probably due to Hinaya Jirōzaemon who the Taisei-bukkan listed as having
shops on Muromachi in Kyoto and Nihonbashi in Edo.

Yūsoku-bina These dolls reflect more realistically the court costumes worn by
the nobility, based on rank, age, and season, in contrast to the kyōho-bina which
is largely imaginary, designed to suggest the Imperial Court's luxury through
rich brocades rather than an attempt to depict accurate dress.
The term yūsoku refers to an etiquette manual used by the nobility as a guide
to how they should conduct their lives-what they should wear and where,
restrictions on food, court rituals, terms of address, and the like.
The yūsoku-bina held the greatest appeal for nobles and samurai because of
their correct court attire, which satisfied better their aesthetic sense. The me-bina
wears much simpler, more subdued, layered robes and often a small metal head
piece, not a crown. The male wears an overcoat based on formal, semi-formal,
and informal court wear, as well as hunting attire, over a simple unlined kimono
and trousers.

Kokin-bina
This is the last significant stage of dairi-bina development, basically intact today
(Fig. 480). The term kokin is much debated. Some say it refers to the Kokin-shū
poetry anthology, others to a famous Kyoto courtesan named Kokin.
Beishō suggests the kabuki actor Kokin Itarō, also of Kyoto. Now many
agree with critic Saitō that the name combines "old" and "new"; the increased
facial realism reflected a new aesthetic but the textiles evoked a certain apt
classicism. Appearing late in the eighteenth century, they soon displaced all
previous dolls.

Fig. 482 Group of gonin-bayashi (musicians) for Hina Matsuri, late 18th c., ht 10 in (25 cm), in front
of hinabyōbu, pigments on silver leaf, 1870-80, 20 x 45 (50 x 114 cm). Hannig Collection. Photo
courtesy Akanezumiya.

Gosho Dolls

For many, the gosho represents the quintessential Japanese ningyō (Figs. 483-
486). Gosha ningyō (palace dolls) borrow heavily from ancient aesthetic
traditions. The plump child with thick black hair and brilliant white skin, often
clothed in nothing more than a simple bib, is a pure expression of wayōbi, an
aesthetic tradition based on appreciating the beauty and innocence of youth
dating back to the Heian era (see Kirihata Ken's article, Gosha Ningyō in The
Doll: Dolls of Japan and the World, Vol. 1). The smallish facial features on
the slightly oversized head also hearken back to the purely Japanese "dash eye,
hook nose" style.
Tradition says that gosho ningyō started in the emperor's palace in the
seventeenth century as gifts conveying auspicious wishes. On their obligatory
annual rounds, daimyō visited the court to pay respects to the emperor. Gosha
were given to the daimyō in acknowledgement. Awareness of them gradually
spread as the daimyō returned home. The direct link with the court added to
their desirability and came to symbolize Kyoto court culture.
The classic shape, with its three-part division of head, body, and legs,
developed over time. Its roots intertwine with the saga ningyō popular in the
seventeenth century. Several different saga existed: religious subjects,
courtesans, and ordinary townsfolk. The most celebrated depicted Chinese
children (karako), often holding small animals. Saga dolls were richly
ornamented with gofun faces and hands, thick bodies, and lacquer-decorated
clothing with raised patterns and gold leaf accents. Sometimes they featured
nodding heads with tongues that popped out. They were probably made by
Busshi (Buddhist sculptors) living in Saga (near Kyoto), famed for publishing
lavishly decorated books called saga-bon (see Kirihata Ken's article "Gosho
Ningyō"). This sumptuous form probably evolved a simpler shape, the hadaka
saga ("naked saga") with longer limbs and carved wood body covered with
gofun, wearing a simple, separate silk haragake or bib-precursor of the gosho.
The basic gosho boy held an auspicious symbol, borrowed from classical
images and associations: turtles, cranes, and peaches represented longevity (Fig.
486); kabuto helmets martial bravery; a treasure ship good fortune. The
attribute was either part of the core, pressed tightly against the body, or separate
and attached by a silk cord in more sophisticated examples. Clothing evolved
from a simple bib to layered silk kimono, lacquered caps, even tabi socks.
Standing figures followed, enlarging the bounds of expression (Fig. 483).
The Edo era saw great artistic output in nearly all fields. Theater particularly saw
spectacular growth and popularity. Nō, kabuki, puppet jōruri, and mechanical
puppet theater were all successful. Mitate (parody) gosho forms soon
developed. Images drawn from popular kabuki or Nō plays appeared in gosho
form, either single figures or elaborate tableaux with many images. A simple
signature attribute or prop allowed patrons to identify the play or story in
question, often made even more popular by the dissemination of woodblock
prints featuring actors in their famous roles.
Perhaps taking their cue from the successful mechanical puppet (karakuri
ningyō) theaters of the day, karakuri gosho were also made: seated gosho
figures with hollowed interiors, pivoting arms (imd occasionally, heads) allowed
arms to be raised and lowered to place masks on the face, or provide a dancing
motion, just by turning a knob at the back (Fig. 484).
The earliest gosho ningyō were of carved kiri (paulownia) wood, usually
from a single block, covered with layers of fine gofun and burnished to create a
shiny, porcelaneous effect. The simple features were stressed with sumi ink The
gift-giving aspect of gosho could be enhanced by painting a red mizuhiki
(presentation ribbon) on the forehead. Appropriate human or silk fiber hair was
added. Later forms employed to so wood composite, papier mâché, or even
clay for the base shape to reduce cracking over time.
By the late eighteenth century, artists had great technical expertise in
creating triple-jointed (mitsuore) dolls allowing standing, sitting, or kneeling
positions. The addition of flexible silk crepe upper arm joints also allowed for
easy costume changes. This began the shift within the gosho category away
from purely display dolls to a range of sophisticated play dolls and the
celebrated ichimatsu ningyō of the mid-nineteenth century-still one of the
most popular forms.
Fig. 483 Standing gosho ningyō wearing an overcoat of typical 18th c. textile, inscription on lining
reading "Seeker of Truth," late 18th c., ht 18 in (46 cm). Lapin Collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.
Fig. 484 Seated karakuri (mechanical) gosho ningyō with mask of Daikoku, god of daily wealth,
papier mâché, early 19th c., ht 9 in (23 cm). Ayervais Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 485 Seated karakuri (mechanical) gosho ningyō now wearing mask of Daikoku, god of daily
wealth, papier mâché, early 19th c., ht 9 in (23 cm). Ayervais Collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.
Fig. 486 Pair of gosho ningyō with peach blossoms, dated Kyōwa 2 (1802), ht 6 in (15 cm).
Ayervais Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Musha Dolls
The peace of the Edo era followed centuries of internecine warfare that had
inhibited the country's growth and prosperity. The Tokugawa shōgun, with their
headquarters in Edo, forcibly united the country under the 260-year pax
Tokugawana. The samurai families who had fought for centuries were now the
ruling class and operated the bureaucracy. Deprived of wars (their raison d'etre),
samurai had to adjust to their new status, rapidly changing economic realities,
and great social dislocations. During the opening decades of the Edo era,
nostalgia for war found many expressions, including the re-emergence of Tango
no Sekku, celebrating boys in the fifth month, as the third month Hina Matsuri
did for girls.
With roots dating back to China where mugwort was hung from the eaves to
repel disease, Tango no Sekku was feted as early as the Heian era when courtiers
tied iris leaves (shōbu) to their caps to ward off evil. The likeness of the iris leaf
to a sword lent martial overtones, with displays of arrow shooting, while evil
spirits were driven away by beating the ground with bunches of iris leaves.
Edo era Tango no Sekku changes can be traced through woodblock prints.
Old military households tied iris leaves to their house eaves in the time-honored
way and displayed standards and military banners on the street outside. Children
held mock battles using iris leaves as swords, engaging in the old ritual for
driving away evil. Weapons and other symbols of the samurai's glory days were
displayed. Helmets crafted entirely of iris leaves were mounted on poles, and by
the 1670s small ningyō were tied over helmets portraying figures from the
martial past.
Edo's ningyō shops soon featured free-standing doll heroes. The lasting
popularity of warrior tales (gunki monogatari) recounting battles between the
Taira and Genji clans in the twelfth century, as well as more recent tales,
provided heroes and tragic figures. In the late seventeenth century, Tango no
Sekku displays gradually moved indoors and ningyō took on greater importance.
More privacy allowed merchant households to join in.
Though the historical and legendary personages the ningyō artist could draw
on from Japan's long history seems limitless, six core figures emerged during the
Edo era: Empress Jingū and her minister Takenouchi no Sukune (Fig. 487);
Minamoto no Yoshitsune (Fig. 493); Benkei and Ushiwakamaru at the Gojō
Bridge (Figs. 489, 491); Toyotomi Hideyoshi (Figs. 488, 492); Katō Kiyomasa
(Fig. 494); and, in the early Meiji era, Emperor Ōjin (Fig. 490). From these
figures, boys were taught about valor and the qualities they embodied, and were
urged to emulate them.

Jingū kōgō
Empress Jingū, shaman and military heroine, is a fascinating figure. Through
most of Japanese history, she was considered an actual woman but is now a
composite figure, mostly myth and legend. Her tale centers on conquering the
Korean Peninsula in AD 200 or thereabouts as this is mostly myth. Leading the
Japanese armada with faithful minister Takenouchi at her side, and utilizing the
powerful tide-shifting gems given by Ryūjin, dragon king of the sea, Jingū
subjugated the Koreans without bloodshed through a show of superior culture
and divine favor. The twist to the story comes with the revelation that Jingū was
pregnant at the time. To delay the birth, she tied a girdle of rocks around her
womb, ultimately carrying baby Ōjin for 19 months before finally giving birth
on her triumphant return to Japanese soil in 201.
Fig. 487 Musha ningyō set of Empress Jingū, Takenouchi no Sukune holding baby Ōjin, and
bannerman, for Boy's Day Festival, mid-19th c., ht 24 in (61 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo
courtesy Akanezumiya.

Jingū is the only female in the Boy's Day display (Fig. 487). She usually
stands in a suit of armor over rich silks. Atop her head is a tall, lacquered cap, at
her side a long sword covered with tiger pelts. She carries a bow in her hand and
a full quiver of arrows on her back. At first glance, she appears male, but long
black hair trails down her back. Her teeth are also blackened as a sign of beauty,
and she sports aristocratic "sky brows" painted high on her forehead, indicating
her nobility and gender. Takenouchi, vassal and advisor, kneels at her side
cradling the baby Ōjin. His face, wizened with wrinkles and folds, sports a long
white beard and moustache, and bushy white eyebrows.

Yoshitsune
Minamoto no Yoshitsune (1159-89) is the quintessential tragic hero, lionized
and honored. A brilliant tactician and fearless leader of the Genji, Yoshitsune
carved a brilliant but short arc in Japanese history. After defeating the Taira clan
in a series of fights during the Gempei Wars, and betrayed by his older half-
brother Yoritomo, Yoshitsune lived his last years as a fugitive, ultimately
committing suicide in the far north, hounded by his brother's troops.
Yoshitsune is central to Boy's Day (Fig. 493). He usually sits on a campstool
with lacquered paper armor and heavy helmet featuring a large dragon prow, an
emblem repeated on his breastplate. At his side is a long sword and bow, at his
back a quiver, and in his right hand a saihai (battle whisk) or gumbai (military
fan), showing that he is the commander. Kneeling at his side, a vassal often
holds aloft the white Genji banner.

Musashibō Benkei and Ushiwakamaru To explain Yoshitsune's brilliance as a

general, legends grew up about his youth, of the magic mountain tengu's secret
training of Ushiwakamaru (his childhood name), and various journeys and
adventures. The most popular recounts his fateful encounter with the warrior
monk Benkei (Fig. 489) one moonlit night on Gojō Bridge in Kyoto. The great
warrior monk Musashibō Benkei (d. 1189), despairing of ever finding a worthy
master to serve, consulted a soothsayer who foretold that he would find his
destiny after capturing a thousand swords. In his quest, Benkei stationed himself
at night on the Gojō Bridge and challenged passers-by, summarily defeating
them. One night on the bridge, he meets Ushiwakamaru, then serving as a court
page. Armed only with a fan, the youth nimbly outmaneuvers Benkei and defeats
him, earning Benkei's unwavering allegiance.
Fig. 488 Musha ningyō of Toyotorni Hideyoshi (1536-98) for Boy's Day Festival, early 19th c., ht
14 in (35 cm). Hannig Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Fig. 489 Musha ningyō of Musashibō Benkei (d. 1189) for Boy's Day Festival, ca. 1800, ht 12 in
(30 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 490 Musha ningyō set of Emperor Ōjin, Takenouchi no Sukune, and bannerman, 1880-1900,
emperor ht 15 in (38 cm). Private Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 491 Mush a ningyō set of Musashi bō Benkei and Ushiwakamaru on Gojō Bridge, ca.1900,
Benkei ht 12 in (30 cm), bridge 21 x 45 x 12 in (53 x 114 x 30 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo
courtesy Akanezumiya.

Fig. 492 Musha ningyō of Toyotomi Hideyoshi for Boy's Day Festival, early 19th c., ht 10 in (25
cm). Private collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 493 Musha ningyō of Minamoto no Yoshitsune (1159-89) on campstool, dragon prow on
helmet, and crest on breastplate, 19th c., ht 16 in (41 cm). Private collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.
Fig. 494 Mush a ningyō of Katō Kiyomasa (1562-1611) showing exaggerated features of an
aramusha (rough warrior) figure, 19th c., ht 16 1/2 in (42 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.

Woodblock print images of this scene abound. From the fourteenth century,
Nō performances also enacted this drama. Such ningyō appear as early as 1688.
Ushiwakamaru atop a bridge stanchion with only a fan faces Benkei with a long
halberd and arsenal of weapons strapped to his back, his shaven face and
grimacing features a marked contrast to Ushiwakamaru's noble youth (Fig. 491).

Toyotomi Hideyoshi
The historical Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536-98) is credited with ending centuries
of civil conflict. His strong-handed tactics and military campaigns brought to
heel the competing daimyō.
Hideyoshi ningyō almost always sit cross-legged, clothed in silk brocades
overlaid with lacquered paper armor, a paulownia crest prominent on the
breastplate (Figs. 488, 492). Never helmeted, he either wears a black lacquered
eboshi or signature Chinese-style cap with flaring wings. He holds a folded fan
in his right hand.

Katō Kiyomasa Like Musashibō Benkei, Katō Kiyomasa (1562-1611) is an

aramusha or rough warrior, celebrated as Hideyoshi's vassal and for his exploits
in Korea. He proved a popular Boy's Day image and is seen slaying tigers, seated
as a military commander on a camp stool, or kneeling, showing he obeys
Hideyoshi. Kiyomasa dolls started appearing in the early nineteenth century,
largely coinciding with those depicting Hideyoshi. Although figures of
Hideyoshi and Kiyomasa were often paired, each also existed independently.
Kiyomasa is readily identified. He has exaggeratedly fierce facial features,
and his hair is usually long at the sides to stress his tough, wild nature (Fig. 494).
Between 1840 and 1880, in particular, the gofun was often tinted to give a
rougher look. Kiyomasa sports an almost conical tall helmet-his signature-with a
giant circular crest repeated on his breastplate. When seated on a campstool, he
typically holds a battle whisk and a long sword covered with tiger pelt at his hip.
(Legend says he battled a tiger in Korea.) Emperor Ōjin With the Meiji
Restoration of 1868, Japan saw a radical shift in social structure. Merchants were
no longer at the bottom of the social ladder, samurai could soon carry their
swords in public no more, and the emperor moved from Kyoto to head the
government in Edo (now Tokyo). The emperorship was newly burnished and
greater priority given to imagery supporting it. Traditional samurai images began
to give way to ancient Imperial figures and even images of Emperor Meiji
himself.
The sudden inclusion of Emperor Ōjin as a central icon at Boy's Day reflects
this shift. Ōjin had long been an infant with his mother and cradled in
Takenouchi's arms, but now a warrior, seated on a campstool, in lacquered paper
armor with a battle fan in his right hand (Fig. 490). No crest is officially
associated with Ōjin, but his armor often bears a sun and moon motif at the neck.
Like Hideyoshi, he rarely has a helmet, but sports instead a lacquered eboshi.
His face is youthful. Ōjin's arrival coincided with the use of inset glass eyes, and
most Ōjin figures, even the earliest, use this technology new to doll making.
Ishō Dolls
Ishō ningyō (fashion or costume dolls) represent the broadest category: play
dolls with exchangeable wigs, dramatically posed theatrical figures, mitate or
parody tableau dolls featuring stories from the past, and talismanic figures like
the hōsō ningyō (measles protection dolls) placed by a child's bed to ward off
measles and smallpox demons. Not associated with any specific festival, ishō
ningyō were given and displayed throughout the year. Just as woodblock prints
help to trace cultural trends during the Edo era, ishō give valuable insights into
shifting clothing styles, popular theatrical pieces, interest in Japan's past, even
health practices and beliefs.

Fig. 495 Ishō ningyō of Yōkihi (Yang Kuei-fei), celebrated 8th c. Chinese beauty whose
involvement with the Chinese emperor led to civil war, early 19th c., ht 12 in (30 cm). Ayervais
Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 496 Ishō ningyō depicting "Arrow Sharpening Scene" from kabuki play Yanone, late 18th c.,
ht 19 in (48 cm). Ayervais Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Unlike hina or musha dolls-figures frozen in the past, with few changes in
clothing and posture-ishō ningyō were fluid, quickly reflecting shifts in clothing
or taste. The bijin ningyō (beautiful woman dolls) best indicate this aspect (see
page 2 and Figs. 495,497, 498). Bijin were popular throughout the Edo era, with
its overwhelming emphasis on the oleasure districts and its courtesans of the
ukiyo (floating world). Saga-type bijin ningyō can be found from the early
seventeenth century, accurately depicting textile patterns, hairstyles, and even
comb placement. Ishō-style bijin in other doll forms followed. The earlier trend
of carved or formed hair indicative of the saga style gave way to elaborately
coiffed real or silk fiber hair, and thus greater realism. New textile arts such as
yūzen, where a pattern is mapped out in paste resist before dyeing, are readily
seen in doll kimono from the late seventeenth century. Beauties could be
included in expanded displays for the doll festival but were appreciated for their
inherent appeal and were thus displayed any time.
Edo era books often mention ningyō in conjunction with dramas, the stories
that inspired them, and their actors. Dolls were directly linked with two main
early Edo era theatrical arts: jōruri (bunraku) (Fig. 496) and the mechanical
puppet theater (karakuri ningyō) founded in 1662 and made famous by Osaka's
Takeda family. Ningyō artists were quick to exploit the popularity of these
stories, riding on the back of widespread distribution of illustrated books and
ukiyo-e.
Takeda ningyō symbolize the dolls created in response to t;heater culture
(Figs. 496, 499, 501). Mounted on black lacquered bases representing a stage,
they usually appear in dynamic, half twisting poses, their heads tilted slightly,
one leg on a prop central to the story, their faces contorted with emotion and
frequently bearing the painted lines of the kumadori make-up made famous by
the Danjūrō family of kabuki actors, their eyes locked in a dramatic mie, crossed
and fixed in a moment of intense realization—the high point of a kabuki play.
Termed yakusha (actor) or kabuki ningyō in Edo era literature, the modern name
takeda comes from Osaka's Takeda theaters, popular during the first half of the
eighteenth century although their exact origins are unknown. Takeda ningyō
were popular until about 1850-60.
Takeda dolls are as aggressive and wild as the gosho are soothing, but are
hard to come by. Benkei and Yoshitsune might be shown in fighting stances,
while kataki-uchi or "blood revenge" stories from the 47 Ronin and Soga
Brother sagas were popular, as well as folktales and legends such as Urashimas
adventures with the Dragon Princess under the sea. Tarō is often shown standing
among the waves, carrying a box containing Time itself.
Fig. 497 Mitsuore (triple-jointed) bijin ningyō interchangeable wig doll (katsura-gae ningyō)
depicted kneeling surrounded by her wigs, late 19th c., ht 16 in (41 cm). Carabet Collection. Photo
courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 498 Pair of mitsuore bijin, one standing, demonstrating the Edo era mitsuore's ability to
balance while standing, one kneeling, early 19th c., standing ht 101/2 in (27 cm), kneeling ht 6 in
(15 cm). Ayervais Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Measles or "Illness Prevention" Dolls

The measles doll is a very rare and little understood ishō ningyō. It depicts the
fiery red face and long, flaming red hair of a shōjō standing with a saké cup in
one hand and a giant ladle in the other (Figs. 500, 502, 503). Shōjō were
mythical creatures that lived in the sea and were partial to saké. Red has
traditionally been a lucky color in Japanese society because it attracted evil
influences and drew them away. The red of hōsō ningyō was believed to attract
the hōsōgami (measles demon). Similarly hōsō-e (measles pictures), painted red
and posted on doorways and in sick rooms, were talismans guarding a child.
Though usually crafted of clay or papier mâché, some hōsō ningyō display the
fine techniques of ishō ningyō popular in the eighteenth century. They have
well-formed features (usually laughing), covered in a red-tinted gofun. Their
red-dyed silk fiber hair flows down to their waists, and their bodies are clothed
in rich brocades. Frequently, they have elaborate stands like takeda ningyō.
Bunraku Dolls
Puppets (ayatsuri ningyō) can trace their origins to Shinto shrines where they
were used in sermon play-stories to illustrate religious topics. Kugutsushi or
traveling puppeteers carried this tradition to the country and put on secular
dramas for farming and fishing folk.
By 1780, more permanent theatres had been set up in Osaka for puppet
dramas accompanied by jōruri narration and music. The term bunraku comes
from the Bunrakuza, founded in 1872 and named after a famous performer of the
period, Uemura Bunrakuken. Immensely popular, bunraku developed into a
significant art form. The most talented artisans crafted the head, hands, and feet
of wood, delicately painting in the features, then adding hair and other features.
Textiles, rich and sumptuous, accurately portray the garb of the period.
Bunraku dolls are dynamic, with articulated arms, hands, and fingers, heads
that twist at the neck, eyes that can open and shut and even move side to side, as
eyebrows lift and furrow. The figures come to life and dramas unfold at the
hands of the puppeteer.
Historical plays called jidaimono draw from warrior tales and focus on
samurai and the upper strata of society, while sewamono or domestic plays deal
with ordinary people. They served as morality plays and provided direct social
commentary on their life and times. Plays like Hade Sugata Onna Maiginu,
where a husband leaves his wife for a courtesan and ends in the lovers' double
suicide, with their child being left in the care of the wife, serve as a reminder of
the fate of those going against the mores of the time.

Ichimatsu
Ichimatsu dolls are said to be named after Sanogawa Ichimatsu, a kabuki actor in
Edo, popular during the Genbun and Kampo eras (1736-43) (Fig. 504).
Ichimatsu played teenager roles and was an idol for women, so they focused on
his clothes.
The ichimatsu moyō (pattern) hakama (divided skirt for men) with a stone
pavement design worn by Ichimatsu on stage was much sought after, becoming
the favored pattern for dolls and young women. When dolls aping his face were
put on sale, his fans made a dash for them. Girl dolls often had their hair bobbed
short while the hair on boy dolls was painted with a brush. Girl dolls were more
popular than boys (80 percent of all ichimatsu dolls were girls) and most are 7-
23 inches (18-58 cm) tall.
Fig. 499 Takeda ningyō standing by well, early 19th c., ht 22 in (56 cm). Thomas Collection.
Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 500 Hōsō ningyō (measles prevention doll), talisman against measles and smallpox,
depicting red-faced shōjō (mythical ape), early 19th c., figure ht 12 in (30 cm). Ayervais Collection.
Photo courtesy Akanezum iya.
Fig. 501 Takeda ningyō of Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1536-98), early 19th c., ht 33 in (84 cm). Ayervais
Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Ichimatsu is a general term for cuddly dolls made of molded sawdust with
movable arms and legs. Their arms, legs, and face are inserted into a body.
When parents married off a daughter, they gave her an ichimatsu doll, hoping it
would always be a good, uncomplaining friend, as wifehood at that time was
likely to entail great hardship given women's low social position. Wives were
expected to perform most of the chores in a house, getting up first, going to bed
last, even while caring for their children. A wife was under the thumb of her
mother-in-law who bossed her around unmercifully if she happened to have been
trained differently or was in any way careless, insufficiently clean, or
disrespectful.
These dolls used to be called hadaka (naked) ningyō. An eighteenth century
e-hon (picture book) says "It is a filial duty to cherish and prevent damage to a
hadaka ningyō given by parents." They were often sold naked so a mother could
make clothes for them in front of her daughters, thereby teaching them the basics
of dressmaking. At other times, the clothes could be taken off so that children
could play at dressing them.
Sode (sleeve) ichimatsu or mame (miniature) ichimatsu dolls often appear in
doll galleries. Their height varies from 0.5 to 6 inches (1 to 15 cm). They were
made from the Meiji period (1868-1912) onward, and were particularly common
in the period from 1926 until 1935. Because sode ichimatsu/mame ichimatsu are
so small, they fade away in the presence of Girls' Day, warrior or regular
ichimatsu dolls, unless displayed in large groups, so care is needed when
collecting such dolls to maintain a balance of size and numbers for display.

Kokeshi Dolls
These lathe-turned wooden dolls were probably started in the Bunka-Bunsei eras
(AD 1804-29) in Tōhoku (northeast Japan) by farmers and sold mostly at the spas
so popular there. Kokeshi may have started with a farmer's wishes for good
harvests or a family, and later were given for comfort to women who had
miscarriages or lost babies. Kokes hi were probably made in the long nights of
the snow-bound winters from timber like maple, dogwood, and magnolia for
which there was no cash market.
At first tools were primitive, then pulley lathes came in; the wife pulled and
the husband applied the blade to the wood. Color was applied as the doll (and
sometimes other toys like tops) turned on the spindle. Later came kick lathes
and, finally, mechanical lathes. Japanese collectors prefer the older kokeshi
dolls from before this (post-war) turn.
When the United States Army occupied Japan, many soldiers' wives sought
out kokeshi, finding them cute, and turners (often in towns near Tokyo, not
Tōhoku) became more creative, turning out non-traditional shapes for them and
for tourist sites all over Japan, such as aubergines (nasu) at Nasu, Tochigi,
kokeshi-headed toothpicks for eating Japanese cakes, or the Seven Lucky
Gods in all kinds of outlandish outfits (Fig. 506).

Doll Types and Sizes

Kokeshi dolls have been divided by origin into Tsuchiyu, Yajirō, Tōgatta,
Narugo, Hijiori, Sakunami, Zaō, Kijiyama, Nambu, and Tsugaru "strains,"
though the individualizing traits may get mixed due to travel and commerce.
Dolls could be made in one piece or two, when the head was separate and
sometimes glued into the body or could swivel or nod.
Adults started collecting kokeshi in the 1920s, leading to an increase in
sizes from tiny to immense. Up until then, the standards for children's play were
5, 7, and 10 inches (13, 18, and 25 cm) high. According to Itske Stern, who
provided the facts in this section, attractive dolls should have good character,
shape, and color.
The body should have a balanced shape and the head not be top-heavy.
Facial features should be lively and applied with a calligraphy brush.
Patterns on the body and head should be positive, not hesitant. They need not
be even, but they should be typical of the doll strain.
Color balance should be pleasing and not watery-looking. Greens and violets
fade first.
The value of the doll comes from the above four features and the artist's
popularity and craftsmanship.
Well-known doll makers who have turned out attractive dolls include
Sakurai Shōji and Itō Shōichi in Naruko; Ni'iyama Hisashi and Satō Yoshizō
(late father) and Fumio (son) in Yajirō; and Suzuki Shōji and Satomi Matsuhiro
at Yamagata.
Fig. 502 Detail of red-faced hōsō ningyō, early 19th c., ht 12 in (30 cm). Ayervais Collection.
Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.

Miscellaneous Dolls

Kimekomi dolls were originally made of willow wood at the Kamo Shrines in
Kyoto in the 1730s. They had grooves into which textiles were fitted to keep
their line and lend a smart appearance.
Hakata dolls date from 1620-30 and were made in Hakata, northern
Kyūshū. Made of clay, they stress not clothes but realistic features and gestures,
without being dressed up.
Imada dolls come from the eponymous district of Tokyo and are made from
rough earthenware, often in the shape of animals, but they may promise love or
request good fortune.
Kobe dolls were made in that city from the late nineteenth century. They
included black men or ghoulish figures whose tongues came out or cut open
watermelons or poured saké (Fig. 505). They were modeled after bunraku dolls
and were very popular with Western tourists till World War II, but too dear for
Japanese. As a result, many collections were formed in America and Europe, but
a Japanese has founded a Toy Museum an hour from Kobe with many
outstanding examples (see Daruma 34).
Tsutsumi and Hanamaki dolls are all made of clay and represent kyōdo
ningyō, that is, the dolls made all over Japan by nonspecialists. Normally their
quality does not match sophisticated Kyoto dolls.
Maneki Neko (beckoning cats) are less dolls for children, more amulets for
stores, as the cat beckons passers-by to come in and eat or buy things (see
Daruma 11). Papier mâché, wood, stoneware, iron, and painted clay are common
materials. In most cases, the left paw is raised chin or ear high but there are
righties too.
Local craftsmen make special things everywhere. Every year Kameidō
Shrine in Tokyo sells 20,000-30,000 wooden bullfinches (uso, or the Japanese
for "fib") of various sizes that may bring better luck in the New Year. Similarly,
a common souvenir in Tōhoku is an eagle with carved tail feathers. Ainu carvers
also make bears and fish for Hokkaido tourists.
Fig. 503 Hōsō ningyō, early 19th c., figure ht 8 1/2 (22 cm). Carabet Collection. Photo courtesy
Akanezumiya.

Collecting Dolls
In the words of Alan Pate, who provided much of the material for this chapter
and is an acknowledged authority in this field (see Daruma 14 and 17),
"Collecting antique Japanese ningyō can be rewarding. The wide variety of
figures created and their deep underlying meanings provide an endless array of
pursuits. Though daunting at first, the vocabulary and forms of the dolls are
easily mastered and invaluable in evaluating and understanding Japanese dolls.
Unlike many other Japanese art forms, ningyō remain affordable, and the novice
collector can still find excellent examples dating back to the 18th century. Like
any other art form, basic knowledge of their history, construction techniques and
imagery will go a long way in helping collectors in their quest."
High standards of doll-making have long reigned in Japan. The nineteenth
century saw chrysanthemum dolls formed of live flowers, and in the twentieth
century, doll artists Hirata Gōyō, Hori Ryūjo, and Kagoshima Jūzō were made
Living National Treasures.
Fig. 504 Kneeling fchimatsu ningyō, ca. 1900, ht 35 1/2 in (90 cm). Goldberg Collection; with
standing gosho ningyō, 19th c., ht 16 in (41 cm). Rosen Collection. Photo courtesy Akanezumiya.
Fig. 505 Kobe dolls, late 19th c. Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.
Fig. 506 Collection of kokeshi dolls, 20th c. Photo courtesy ltske Stern.
FLOWER BASKETS

It is very easy to be dismissive of baskets if you come from a

background where baskets were used for gardening or shopping,
without much concern for their appearance (beyond perhaps an
awareness that a handmade basket was preferable to a store-provided
shopping bag with which you advertise-for free!-some vile goods, or
even worse, a plastic bag that depletes fossil fuels, warms the world,
and despoils the sea). Yet, the awareness of flowers and their
containers among Zen followers, Tea masters, and Ikebana adepts
brought about a major change. After centuries of mere utilitarian use
and aesthetic neglect or blindness, flower baskets (often following
bronze models) became a part of human life where form, materials,
and a measure of masterliness combined to produce works we humans
can be proud of.
It is perhaps only a century plus a few decades that the art basket
movement and wide appreciation of basket masters started, but ever
since Lloyd Cotsen exhibited his incredible collection and published
the deluxe book, Contemporary Japanese Baskets: Masterworks of
Form and Texture, Japanese flower arrangement baskets (hanakago)
have achieved star status: attractive pieces by famous names fetch
thousands of dollars.
Fig. 507 Freely woven wagumi style ikebana basket with root-wood handle, crossed slats woven
with willow and bark, ca. 1920, ht 19 in (48 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Historical Background Baskets dating from the late Jōmon era 2-3 (AD
c.) have been found at shell mounds in Shinpukuji, Saitama, and Torihama,
Fukui Prefecture. Jōmon potters displayed great skill in plaiting patterns. The
first basket found was shallow and mat-plaited, with narrow bamboo strips and a
thickly lacquered surface. Others were un-lacquered, though lacquered ones
were often twill-plaited.
The Shōsōin repository (AD 756) houses hundreds of plain and shallow
bamboo baskets with no handles. They may be foreign and have held flower
petals for scattering at religious ceremonies.
Baskets for collecting crops, or leaves for sericulture, are age-old but have
not usually survived the ravages of time. However, Tea culture from China
started spreading among Zen priests from the late twelfth century, then among
warriors like Ashikaga Yoshimasa (1436-90), the eighth shōgun, who is credited
with being the first to use a bamboo basket for non-religious flower arranging.
After the tea ceremony and flower arrangement movements became central to
cultured life in the sixteenth century, flower baskets became connoisseurs' items.
Most were modeled on Chinese bronzes. According to Anita Meyer (Daruma
36), "These early Chinese baskets (karamono or Chinese objects) are identifiable
by their restraint and classic symmetry, with narrow strips of bamboo, intricate
weaves, and complicated knots, stitches and wraps."
Fig. 508 Minutely woven baskets. Back: Three multi-walled baskets with handles and armor.
Front: Two baskets with vertical strength and spatial geometry, tomobako (box), early 1800s-
1900s. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

In the late sixteenth century, Sen Rikyū (see Tea Ceremony Utensils)
introduced wabi cha, a humbler, less pretentious form of tea ceremony, with
ceramics and baskets used by ordinary country people, displaying imperfections
and willfulness. The baskets inspired by this (wamono or Japanese things), "have
uninhibited forms and wider, coarser bamboo strips with irregular weaves."
Daimyō Tea masters and their aristocratic followers preferred the formal,
prestigious Chinese shapes, while wabi cha Tea masters and their pupils liked
the domestic type, so expertise grew in repairing both, thereby picking up the
complicated weaves of the Chinese and building on the irregular, asymmetrical
patterns dear to the Japanese. This knowledge spread all over the country as Tea
and ikebana were practiced in every fief, and daimyō forced to spend alternate
years in the capital took home the latest fashions.

New Directions and Signing Basket weavers (kagoshi) were mainly

farmers who were used to making rice scoops, winnowing fans, and vegetable
carriers for personal use. They thought of themselves as craftsmen copying old
works, so did not think to sign them. As the Edo era ended and with a change in
thinking after the feudal period and increasing individualism, some weavers took
more pride in their skills and started signing their art name, like Hayakawa
Shōkōsai I (1815-97), Waichisai I (1851-1901), and Chiku'unsai I (1877-1937)
(Figs. 509, 511), reflecting the age's changing social and aesthetic look.
Chinese style basket weavers long used restrained, symmetrical shapes with
thin strips of bamboo and rattan, but after treaty ports were set up and
Westerners seeped in, wamono weavers found a new market among them for
baskets with gnarled wood or root handles and more exotic, asymmetrical
shapes. These wagumi baskets reflect the Japanese preference for the non-
standard, off-center, wilder side of creation and for wider strips of material,
irregularly shaped root-wood, and dark bamboo. Darker colors may be from
bamboo in old thatched houses where smoke slowly turned the bamboo a lovely
sooty color (susutake), but could also be stained.

Regional Basket Styles Tea ceremony and flower arrangement schools

were headquartered in Kyoto, and many early famous basket weavers were
Kansai-based (karamono were identified with Sakai, a port south of Osaka).
They tended to be more traditional whereas Kantō baskets became more
adventurous, especially with the basket maker Rōkansai. The Japanese
government encouraged a basket weaving center 100 years ago in Beppu,
Kyūshū, where much of Japan's best bamboo stands can be found. Many masters
taught there and visitors to the resort town have bought, so many future names
may be hiding on the island.
Fig. 509 Karamono (Chinese style) ikebana basket with vertical armored striations and arch
handle; jeweled neckline and shoulder woven with insect stitches focused on cicada show
extraordinary detail, signed Chiku'unsai I, tomobako, ca. 1920. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.

Fig. 510 Free-form wagumi (Japanese style) basket with root handle, sooted body interspersed
with root fragments, unsigned, ca. 1890, ht 18 in (46 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 511 Hemp leaf weave morikago (serving basket), with insect stitching and elaborate
additions, signed Chiku'unsai I, tomobako, ca. 1920. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 512 Large irregular weave wagumi basket with wide bamboo slats and two handles held by
elaborate slots, signed Senshō, ca. 1900-10, diam 33 in (84 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes
Antiques.

Fig. 513 Flower cart basket presented at Tokyo Palace on June 20, 1930 to Imperial Couple,
signed Jinsai, tomobako. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Basket Weavers To help readers and as an aid to researchers, the
following names were taken from www.takekogei.com of Saitō Masamitsu,
quoted in Daruma 36, and Robert Coffland's Contemporary Japanese
Bamboo Arts, with additions from other sources. Chiku and take are variant
readings of bamboo; sai implies an honorific title; sei means "made by." Most
weavers go by their second or art name. Similar art names suggest family or
training links; II or III after a name may mean children or pupils.

Fig. 514 Woven bamboo fence-like hanakago (flower arrangement basket), signed Suemura
Shōbun (1917-), Osaka, 10 in (25 cm) square. Photo courtesy Oriental Treasure Box.

Kansai

Chikubi (Fig. 520) Chikuhōsai Chikukōen Chikuryōsai Chiku'unsai (Tanabe

Chiku'unsai I, 1887-1937 (Figs. 509, 511), II, 1910-) (Figs. 515,516, 519)
Chikuyūsai Hayakawa Shōkōsai I (1815-97), followed by generations of
bamboo artists; the 5th (1932-) has a lovely "abacus bead" in the Cotsen
Collection.
Higashi Takesonosai (1915-), Kyōto Ikeda Seiryūsai Maeda Chikubosai (I
and II) (II 1917-), Sakai Minoura Chikuho (1934-), Hyōgo Morita
Chikuyōsai (d. 1963) Rinshōsai Sōsai Suemura Shōbun (1917-), Osaka
(Fig. 513) Tanabe Chikuhōsai Tanioka Shigeo (1949-), Osaka Wada
Waichisai I (1851-1901), also II (Fig. 520) and III Yamamoto
 Chikuryūsai I Yamamoto Shōen Yamashita Kochikusai Kantō

Buseki Suishin Fujinuma Noboru (1945-), Tochigi Iizuka Hōchiku Iizuka

Hōsai I and II Iizuka Kyokushōsai Iizuka Rōkansai (1890-1958) Iizuka
Sōkansai (1919-), Gumma Katsushiro Sōhō (b. 1934), Tochigi Kosuge
Shōchikudō
Okada Chikukōsai Saitō Bunseki Suzuki Kyokushosai Yako Hoō (1940-),
Saitama Yokota Hōsai Kyūshū

Abe Motoshi (1942-), Ōita (see Fig. 517), and presumably Kōun (see Fig.
520) Iwao Kōunsai Kadota Nikō
Kajiwara Aya (1941-), Ōita, wife of Kajiwara Kōhō (1935-), Ōita Shōno
Tokuzō (1942-), Ōita Watanabe Shōchikusai I and II (1927-), Ōita
Yamaguchi Ryū'un (1940-), Ōita Other Hometowns and
Uncertain

Gyokusai Hōgetsu Honma Kazuaki (1930-), Niigata Issai Jinsai (Fig. 514)
Kochikusai Kōfūsai Kōgakusai Kōun (Fig. 520). Same as Iwao Kōunsai?
Kyokushū
Matsuzaka-ya Sei Monden Kyōgoku (1916-), Hiroshima Nagakura Ken'ichi
(1952-), Shizuoka Nobukata Oda Kōyō (1909-96) Shōbisai Senshō (Fig,
512) Shōno Shō'unsai (1904-74) Maeda Shūchikusai Torii Ippō (1930-
),Aichi
Fig. 515 Karamono ikebana basket with delicate bamboo bands, called "Fukkai" ("Sea of Good
Fortune"), signed Chiku'unsai II (Tanabe Chiku' unsai II, b. 1910) on base, tomobako, ca. 1950, ht
8 1/2 in (22 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 516 Low ovoid basket with tightly plaited mat weave handle, signed Chiku'unsai II, ca. 1950,
ht 12 in (30 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.

Fig. 517 Ovoid basket with delicate strands of loosely woven bamboo, signed Abe, tomobako, ca.
1950, ht 91 /2 in (24 cm). Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 518 Wide-lip basket tapering to narrow base, upper part in "1000 arms" style and lower in
open mat weave, looped handle of twisted bamboo, unsigned, 1920-40. Photo courtesy Flying
Cranes Antiques.

Materials and Work Basket weaving is time-consuming and training-

intensive. I will never forget meeting an old basket-maker in Arima, near Kobe,
and seeing his fingers fly as he wove, rummaged among his stock, and told us
about finding materials. People say the bamboo varieties madake (long-jointed
Phyllostachys bambusoides), medake (Pleioblastus simonii), and mōsōchiku
(thick-stemmed Phyllostachys pubescens) are best for baskets but akebi (a vine
with tasty fruit), willow, fern, wisteria, and root-wood serve too. Sensing which
bamboo stands will be good is important. Gathering 3-4 year-old bamboo in late
autumn is best: the stalks are flexible, dry (so get little mildew later), and have
fewer bugs.
After being harvested, charcoal or gas burns off excess oil from the bamboo,
or it may be boiled. It is then cleaned with rice chaff water and sun-cured for
insect repellence and color, cut into convenient arm lengths, then split vertically
(in line with the fibers) and split again to make smaller strips; some are a
millimeter wide.
Like pots, a weaver starts with a strong base for the whole-this is where an
expert looks first (besides it may also hide vital details like name and date)-then
forms the body and rim. Nowadays, basket artists are said to kumu or form
baskets but traditionally they saw themselves as weavers and used ami
("knitting") methods such as four-mesh plaiting (yotsume-ami) and
chrysanthemum plaiting (kiku-ami). Each "knit" has distinct visual effects and
structural strengths. Maki (wrapping rattan) and inserting other materials (sashi)
are part of the vocabulary.

Collecting Baskets Taste is individual but the following pointers may help
you to choose. Baskets divide roughly into symmetrical, restrained Chinese, and
asymmetrical Japanese baskets, so you have to decide which side you are going
to go for. Other decisive factors include the size and color of the basket
(probably tied to a purchaser's expected surroundings and purpose), the
gracefulness of the handle, and the flow and interplay of the bamboo, rattan,
wisteria, and root-wood. If purchased for holding flowers, the color and space
left for them is important, so a conical or high, arching handle may suit you, or a
tiny opening for a stem or two.
Original boxes (tomobako) accompanying baskets, with the maker's name
(and maybe date and address or hometown) make works more desirable; perhaps
not to you, but you are just a caretaker and they should stay together.
Page 291 lists basket artists like Shōkansai, Rōkansai, Shō'unsai and
Shōkōsai as well as Waichisai I and Chiku'unsai I. Critics may say these are
tops, but if you are poor or thinking like an investor, other artists may be better
future bets because after a certain price level only a few potential buyers remain
(an article analyzing masterpiece prices at Sotheby's over decades found that
lower-priced pictures rose by a greater percentage). As always, buying what you
fancy is very important. At the other end of the market are baskets (some from
the Philippines) with less creative mastery but low prices (and perhaps factory
output conditions), so you may never learn about their origin. Condition is vital.
Fig. 519 Bamboo ikebana baskets. Back: Handled baskets modeled on ancient bronzes with
jeweled necks, woven horsehair, and elaborate knots. Front: Circular, banded, honey-toned
basket in "1000 arms" style by Suemura Shobun, dome by Chiku'unsai II, ca. 1950. Photo
courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
Fig. 520 Traditional and unusual shapes by noted 20th c. weavers. From left: Globular basket with
gnarled root handle, unsigned; rare wall-hanging basket-like cicada by Chikubi; conical basket
with triangular slatting, matte weave, and insect stitches by Waichisai II; lowwaisted basket with
loop handle by Kōun. Photo courtesy Flying Cranes Antiques.
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Sagemono Bosshard, Willi, "Collecting Netsuke,"
Bushell, Raymond, The Inrō Handbook: Studies of Netsuke, Inrō and Lacquer, Tokyo:
Weatherhill, 1979.
Davey, Neil K., Netsuke: A Comprehensive Study Based on the MT Hindson
Collection, revd edn, London: Sotheby Publications, 1982.
Fleischel, Robert, "Yatate;' Daruma, 3, 1994.
Goodall, Hollis et al., The Raymond and Frances Bushell Collection of Netsuke: A
Legacy at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, Chicago: Art Media Resources, in
association with the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 2003.
Jahss, Melvin and Jahss, Betty, Inrō and Other Miniature Forms of Japanese Lacquer
Art, Tokyo: Tuttle, 1971.
Kress, H. and Kress, E., Inrō Shita-e Design Drawings from a Japanese Lacquer
Workshop, Cologne: Koryuen, 2003.
Lawrence, Louis and Brozman, Shep, Japanese Inro from the Brozman Collection, London:
Genlux Holdings Ltd, 1993.
McKeown, Bill, "The Sublime Uchikake: The Wedding Kimono as Poetry in Motion," Daruma, 12,
1996.
Sekido Kengo, Netsuke Kenkyū Bulletin, 25, n.d.
Daruma, 43, 2004.
Seton, Alistair, "Yatate and the Tawara Museum,"
Symmes, Edwin C., Netsuke: Japanese Life and Legend in Miniature, Tokyo: Tuttle, 1991;
pbk edition 1998.
Ueda Reikichi (trans. and adapt. Raymond Bushell), The Netsuke Handbook of Ueda
Reikichi, Tokyo: Tuttle, 1976; first published in Japanese 1942.
Verwilghen, Jean, "Kiseruztsu: Pipe Cases Parts 1 & 2," Daruma, 6 and 10, 1995-6.
Wrangham, E. A., The Index of Inrō Artists, Northumberland, UK: Harehope Publications, 1995.
Yoshida Yukari, "Obidome," Daruma, 9, 1996.

Daruma, 39, 2003.

Ceramics Bouvier, Georges, "19th Century Kutani Porcelain,"
Durston, Diane, Japan Crafts Sourcebook: A Guide to Today's Traditional
Handmade Objects, Tokyo: Kodansha, 2001.
Impey, Oliver, The Early Porcelain Kilns of Japan, Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
Jennings, Soame, Japanese Porcelain, New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1965.
_____, Japanese Pottery, London: Faber, 1971.
Karp, Herbert and Pond, Gardner, SUMIDA... According to Us, Atlanta: Karpond, 2001.
Knäpper, Gerd, Gerd Knäpper: Clay Works, Tokyo: Kodansha, 1989.
Lawrence, Louis, Hirado: Prince of Porcelains, Chicago: Art Media Resources, 1997.
Leach, Bernard, A Potter's Work, London: Jupiter Books, 1967.
Moeran, Brian, Folk Art Potters of Japan: Beyond an Anthropology of Aesthetics,
London: Curzan Press, 1997.
Muraoka K. and Okamura K., Folk Arts and Crafts o!Japan, Tokyo: Heibonsha, 1981.
Nagatake Takeshi, Classic Japanese Porcelain, Tokyo: Kodansha, 2003.
Pollard, Clare, Master Potter of Japan: Makuzu Kōzan (1842-1916) and His Workshop,
New York: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Rhodes, Daniel, Tamba Pottery: The Timeless Art of a Japanese Village, 3rd edn,
Tokyo: Kodansha, 1974.
Satō Masahiko, Kyoto Ceramics, Tokyo: Weatherhill/Shibundo, 1973.
Seki Kazuo, Seiki Imari, Tokyo: Sōkisha Bijutsu Shuppan, 1987.
Seton, Alistair "Ceramic Militaria," Daruma, 3, 1994.
_____, "Gerd Knaepper: Potter and Sculptor," Daruma, 30, 2001
_____, Igezara Printed China, Tokyo: Kōgei Shuppan, 1993.
_____, "Memorial Saké Cups and Pourers," Daruma, 4, 1994.
_____,"Richard Milgrim," Daruma, 7, 1995.
_____ (ed. and trans.), "Clinging to Folkcraft Traditions: Shimizu Toshihiko," Daruma, 4, 1994.
Takeguchi Momoko, "History of Tamba Ware told by Ōgami Noboru," Daruma, 4, 1994.
Yamashita Sakurō, Ai Kutani to Ai Kakiemon, Tokyo: Sōkisha Bijutsu Shuppan, 1983.
Yanagi Sōetsu, The Unknown Craftsman: A Japanese Insight into Beauty, 3rd edn,
Tokyo: Kodansha, 1976.

Furniture Clarke, Rosy, Japanese Antique Furniture: A Guide to Evaluating and

Restoring, Tokyo: Weatherhill, 1983.
Fujii Kunihiko, "Iron Filigree-Covered Chests of Drawers from Sado," Daruma, 1, 1994.
Fukushima Hiroshi, "Funadansu: How Ship's Chests Disembarked," Daruma, 30, 2001.
Heineken, Ty and Heineken, Kiyoko, Tansu: Traditional Japanese Cabinetry, Tokyo: Weatherhill, 1981.
Jackson, D. and Owen, D., Japanese Cabinetry: The Art and Craft of Tansu, Layton, Utah : Gibbs Smith,
2002.
Koizumi Kazuko, Traditional Japanese Furniture, Tokyo: Kodansha, 1986.
Seike Kiyosi, The Art of Japanese Joinery, Tokyo: Weatherhill and Kyoto: Tankosha, 1977.
Seton, Alistair, "Hibachi: An Appreciation," Daruma, 6, 1995.
_____,"Tobacco Trays," Daruma, 8, 1995.
Takeguchi, M. and Seton, A., "Sendai Chests," Daruma, 18, 1998.

Textiles Ashken, Karol, "Bokutō ('Doctor's Swords)," Daruma, 7, 1995.

Benjamin, Betsy Sterling, The World of Rozome: Wax-Resist Textiles of Japan, Tokyo: Kodansha, 1996.
Brandon, Reiko Mochinaga, Country Textiles of Japan: The Art of Tsutsugaki, Tokyo: Weatherhill, 1986.
Cliffe, Sheila, "The Exquisite Kimono: Parts 1 & 2," Daruma, 9 and 19, 1996.
_____, "Bingata Dyeing," Daruma, 41, 2003.
Horiuchi Izuho, "Kurume-gasuri: Horiuchi Izuho Collection," Daruma, 43, 2004.
Kato, Amy, Japan Country Living, Tokyo: Tuttle, 2002.
Kitamura Yoshichika, "Tsutsugaki," Daruma, 37, 2003.
Nakano, Eisha, Japanese Stencil Dyeing: Paste-Resist Techniques, Tokyo: Weatherhill, 1982.
Stinchecum, Amanda M., Kosode: 16th-19th Century Textiles from the Nomura Collection, New York:
Japan Society and Kodansha, 1984.
Wada T. I., Rice, M. K., and Barton, J., Shibori: The Inventive Art of Japanese Shaped
Resist Dyeing, Tokyo: Kodansha, 1999.
Wiltshire, Diane and Wiltshire, Ann, "Decorating with Japanese Obi," Daruma, 8, 1995.
_____, Design with Japanese Obi, Tokyo: Tuttle, 1997; pbk edition 2002.

Lacquerware Arakawa Hirokazu and Haino Akio, Chōshitsu: Urushi no Relief, Tokyo: Nezu
Museum, 1984.
Asato Susumu, "Okinawan Lacquer Ware," Daruma, 2, 1994.
Baekeland, Frederick, Imperial Japan: The Art of the Meiji Era, Ithaca: Herbert Johnson
Museum of Art, Cornell University, 1980.
Boyer, Martha, Japanese Lacquers in the Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore: Trustees of the
 Walters Art Gallery, 1970.
Harima Ki'ichi and Kokon Shichirō, Wajima Shikki, Kanazawa: Hokkoku Shuppansha, 1976; revd
edn 1980.
Hayashi Mitsunori, "Ancient Tohoku Lacquerware," Daruma, 3, 1994.
Meech, Julia,Lacquerware from the Weston Collection, New York: Christie's, 1995.
Murase Miyeko, Bridge of Dreams: The Mary Griggs Burke Collection of Japanese Art, New York:
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2000.
Namiki Seishi, "Hatsune no Chōdō," Daruma, 2, 1994.
Rausch, Anthony S., "Tsugaru Lacquerware: From Edo to the Present," Daruma, ll, 1996.
Shiraishi Masami, Rainbows and Shimmering Bridges: Contemporary Japanese Lacquerware, New York:
Japan Society, 1996.
Spink Auctioneers, Arts of Japan, London: Spink, 1990.

Cloisonné Coben, L. A. and Ferster, D. C., Japanese Cloisonné: History, Technique, and Appreciation,
Tokyo: Tuttle, 1990.
Gerber, Donald K., "Japanese Cloisonné," Daruma, 20, 1998.
_____, "Namikawa Sōsuke: Poetic Impressionism," Daruma, 33, 2002.
_____, "Namikawa Yasuyuki's Work," Daruma, 28, 2000.
Harris, Victor, Japanese Imperial Craftsmen: Meiji Art from the Khalili Collection, London: British
Museum Press, 1994.
Seton, Alistair, "Susan Tosk: Budding Scientist Turned Successful Dealer," Daruma, 30, 2001.

Sculpture and Metalwork Arts, P. L. W., Tetsubin: A Japanese Waterkettle, Groningen : Geldermalsen
Publications, 1987.
Earle, Joe, Splendors of Imperial Japan: Arts of the Meiji Period from the Khalili Collection, London:
Khalili Family Trust, 2002.
Greve, Gabriele, BUDDHASTATUEN: Who Is Who, 2nd edn, Bensheim, Germany: Paradise Publishers,
1994.
Savage, George, A Concise History of Bronze, London: Thames and Hudson, 1968.
Smith, L. and Harris, V., Japanese Decorative Arts from the 17th to the 19th Centuries, London: British
Museum Publications, 1982.
Warner, Langdon, The Craft of the Japanese Sculptor, New York: McFarlane, Warde, 1936.

Swords and Armor Charbonnier, Jean Christophe, Casques, Masques et Armures des
Seigneurs de l'Ancien Japan (with English trans.), Paris: ToriiLinks Editions, 2003.
Dale, B. and Stride, F., A Beginners Guide to Japanese Swords, London: Tō-ken Society of
Great Britain.
Hiruta Michiko, "Tsuba (Sword Hand-Guards) by Metal Masters;' Daruma, 39, 2003.
Knapp, L., Knapp, H., and Yoshihara Yoshindo, Modern Japanese Swords and
Swordsmiths, Tokyo: Kodansha, 2002.
Mol, Serge, Classical Weaponry of Japan, Tokyo: Kodansha, 2003.
Ogasawara Nobuo (trans. Don Kenny), Japanese Swords, Osaka: Hoikusha, 1970.
Tamio Tsuchiko, The New Generation of Japanese Swordsmiths, Tokyo: Kodansha, 2001.
Tō-ken Society of Great Britain, NIHON-TO, quarterly journal.
Tōken Kenkyu Kai, run by Chris Bowen in Japan (kuribo@izu.co.jp) in English.

Tea Ceremony Utensils Cadwallader, Gary, in Daruma, 10-43, 1996-2004, a regular series on Tea. For
details, see http://www.darumamagazinecom/magidx.htm#TEA

Dolls Chiba Sōji, "Dolls from the Edo Period;' Daruma, l, 1994.
Hakata Ningyō Union, Traditional Hakata Ningyō, Fukuoka: Kouri-shō Kumiai, 1996.
Inoue Shigeyoshi, "Kobe Dolls," Daruma, 34, 2002.
Kirihata Ken, "Gosho Ningyō;' in The Doll: Dolls of Japan and the World, Kyoto: Kyōto Shōin, 1985.
Kubota Beishō, Ningyōshi (History of Dolls, Ningyō Makers), Tokyo: Yūzankaku, 1936.
Pate, Alan, "Maneki Neko; Beckoning Cats," Daruma, 11, 1996.
Stern, Itske, "The Hina Matsuri: A Living Tradition," Daruma, 17, 1998.
_____,"Kokeshi as Collectables," Daruma, 23, 1999.
_____, "Kokeshi Dolls;' Daruma, 38, 2003.
_____,"Warrior Dolls," Daruma, 14, 1997.

Flower Baskets Coffland, Robert, Contemporary Japanese Bamboo Arts, Chicago: Art Media
Resources, 1999.
Cotsen, Lloyd, Contemporary Japanese Baskets: Masterworks of Form and Texture, Los Angeles: Cotsen
Occasional Press, 1999.
Meyer, Anita, "Hanakago: Art and History of Japanese Bamboo Flower Baskets," Daruma, 36,2002.
Saitō Masamitsu, web page at www.takekogei.com
INDEX

Note: Numbers in italic refer to illustrations.

Adair, John, 19
Ainu art, 192, 192, 193
Aizu, 199
Alcock, Rutherford, 234
Alexander, Helene, 23
Allen, Ellen Gordon, 12
Almeida, Luis d', 230
Amagatsu, 268
Amita Damascene Ltd, 229
Anderssen, Rikard, 67
Andon, see Lanterns Arakawa Hirokazu, 90
Archery, 251, 255
Ariake-andon, 170, 171
Arita, 118, 122
Armor, 243, 255, 255-7
Arts, P. L. W., 230
Ashikaga family shōguns, 8
Ashikaga period, 8
Ashikaga Yoshimasa, 12, 196, 260, 288
Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, 12, 13
Ashinaga, 107
Ashiya, 230
Asuka period, 6
Asukadera, 8

Badger/raccoon dog, 91, 97

Bakemono, see Ghosts Baku, see Nightmare eater Banners, 188, 189
Barton, Roland, 23
Bashōfu, 186
Basket weavers, 289, 291; Abe Motoshi, 293; Chikubi; 295; Chiku'unsai I, 289, 289, 290; Chiku'unsai II,
292, 294; Hayakawa Shōkōsai I, 289; Jinsai, 291; Kōun, 295; Rōkansai, 289; Senshō, 290; Suemura
Shōbun, 290, 294; Waichisai I, 289; Waichisai II, 295
Baskets, 286, 288-9, 293, 287-95
Bath set, 205
Baur, Alfred, 133
Bells, ceremonial, 7, 8, 216
Benkei, 33
Benten, 91
Beppu, 289
Bichō-dai, 172
Bijin ningyō, 280, 280
Bingata, 190, 190
Bishamon, 91
Blomhoff, Mrs, 70
Blow, T. B., 133
Bokutō, see Dummy swords Bonbori, 170
Bonsai, 13, 13
Bosshard, Willi, 95, 113
Boston Museum, 92
Bowls: lacquer, 200, 205; porcelain, 118, 119, 129, 132; silver, 239; stoneware, 140-3; tea, 263, 265
Bows, 251
Boxes: bedside, 171, 196, 197; cake, 205; calligraphy, 195, 198, 199, 204; cloisonné, 211, 213; cosmetics,
196; document, 197, 204; food, 117, 148, 206, 207; food delivery, 172, 173; incense, 196, 204, 262;
ivory, 226; letter, 200; money, 167; offertory, 167; picnic, 206, 207, 259; sewing, 171; shell storage,
200; stationery, 197, 204; stoneware, 144; tea, 173; writing, 167, 195
British Museum, 82, 92
Bronze mirrors, 8
Brozman,Shep, 102
Buddhism, 6, 8, 9, 218, 220-1
Buddhist: altars, 218, 221; art, 9, 30, 58, 200, 207, 218, 218, 219, 220-1, 228
Bundai, see Writing desks Burial mounds, 8
Burke Collection, 197, 204
Bushell, Raymond, 92, 110
Butsudan, 221
Butsuzō, 221
Byōbu, see Screens Byōdōin, 9

Calligraphers: Hon'ami Kōetsu, 52-3; Kokin Wakashū, 52; Ono no Tōfū, 52

Calligraphy, 35, 52-3
Candle stands, 170, 206, 206
Celadon, 147, 149, 151
Cha-ire, 205
Chadansu, see Chests: tea Chain weapons, 255
Chairs: priest's, 174, 176
Chanchanko, 180
Charcoal braziers, see Hibachi Chashaku, see Tea scoop Chests, 155, 156, 157, 157; bridal, 154, 155, 157;
clothing, 154, 155, 155, 159, 161; document, 165; husband and wife, 154, 157; iron, 228; kan'non-
biraki, 157, 158, 161; kitchen, 158-61, 162; lacquer, 205; ledger, 166; medicine, 166, 167;
pawnbroker's, 165; porcelain, 129; ship's, 153, 165-6, 165; staircase, 162, 163-4; sword, 166, 166;
tea, 166-7, 167; wheeled, 164, 165
Chigaidana, 7
China: lacquer, 98, 194, 196, 200; porcelain, 118, 149; prints, 58; screens, 28, 30, 36
Chō-dansu, 166
Chōba dansu, 166
Chōmen dansu, 166
Cincinnati Museum, 82
Cliffe, Sheila, 190
Clocks: incense, 173, 174, 204; lantern, 172; wall, 174
Cloisonné, 15, 208, 209-15; history, 210-12; schools, 213, 215; techniques, 210, 212
Cloisonné artists: Andō Jūbei, 209, 213, 214; Gonda Hirosuke, 213; Gotō family, 213; Hattori Tadasaburo,
213, 214; Hayashi Kodenji, 211, 212, 213; Hirata Hikoichi, 213; Hirata Narikado, 211; Honda, 214;
Isaburo, 213; Itō Katsumi, 213; Kaji Tsunekichi, 212; Kawade Shibatarō, 212, 213; Kawaguchi
Bunzaemon, 213; Kumeno Teitarō, 213, 213; Miwa Tomisaburō, 213; Namikawa Sōsuke, 210, 212,
213, 213, 215; Namikawa Yasuyuki, 211, 213, 215; Ōta family, 213; Ōta zō, 210; Shibata and Inaba
Shichiho, 213; Takahara Komajirō, 213; Tanigorō, 213
Colburn, June, 193
Collecting, 16-27; baskets, 293; ceramics, 151; dolls, 284; folkcraft, 137-8; furniture, 174-5; lacquerware,
207; sagemono, 113; screens and scrolls, 48, 51-2, 54-5; sculpture and metalwork, 235-6; swords,
250-1; tea ceremony utensils, 262-3; textiles, 192-3; ukiyo-e, 84
College Women's Association of Japan, 84
Compote, 130
Compton, Walter A., 242
Cotsen, Lloyd, 286

Daikoku, 91
Dairi-bina, 268
Daishō, 244
Danjūrō family, 280
Daruma, 10, 34, 92, 217, 220; female, 96, 104
Date Masamune, 90
Davey, Neil, 92
Demons, 91, 95, 99, 226
Dharani, 6
Doll makers: Gotō Nuidonosuke, 269; Hirata Gōyō, 284; Hori Ryūjo, 284; Itō Shōichi, 283; Kagoshima
Jūzō, 284; Ni'iyama Hisashi, 283; Sakurai Shōji, 283; Satō Fumio, 283; Satō Yoshizō, 283; Satomi
Matsuhiro, 283; Suzuki Shōji, 283
Dolls, 266; amagatsu, 268; bunraku, 281; gosho, 272, 272-3; hakata, 283; hanamaki, 284; hina, 268-70,
268-71; hōko, 268; ichimatsu, 281-2; imada, 283; ishō, 279-81, 280-4; kimekomi, 283; Kobe, 283-
4, 285; kokeshi, 283, 285; maneki neko, 284; measles, 281, 282; musha, 274-9, 274-9; tsutsumi, 284
Dōmaru, 255, 256
Dōtaku, 7, 8, 216
Dragon, 91, 98, 106 108, 110, 127, 236, 237, 238
Dummy sword maker: Minkō, 113
Dummy swords, 88, 112, 113
Durston, Diane, 137, 198
Dutch East India Company, 118, 120, 121

E-goyomi, 66
E-maki, 40
E-makimono, 10, 28, 40
Earle, Joe, 133, 236
Earthen jars: Jōmon, 6, 6
Earthenware figures, see Haniwa Eber, Ellen, 210
Ebisu, 91, 134
Edo period, 8, 274; arts, 15; swords, 244
Eisai, 230
Elbow rests, 172, 173
Eskenazi, Giuseppe, 92
Ewer, 133

Fans, 23, 28
Fenollosa, Ernest, 6, 7, 15, 71
Fibers, 186
Flasks, 138, 145, 150
Fleischel, Robert, 18, 90, 111
Fly-catcher, 24, 24
Folkcraft, 24, 136-8
Folkcraft Association of Japan, 136, 137
Foreign potters, 151
Freer Gallery, 207
Fu-bako, see Boxes: document Fuchi, 250, 250, 251
Fugen, 92
Fujito Takeki, 192
Fujiwara family, 7
Fujiwara Teika, 9
Fukinuki yatai, 10
Fukurokuju, 91
Fukusa, 184, 186
Fumi-bako, see Boxes: document Fumidai, 174
Funadansu, see Chests: ship's Fundōgusari, 255
Funeral painting, 56-7
Furisode, 180, 180, 183
Furniture, 152; caring for, 175-6; collecting, 174-5; dating, 155; history, 154-5; woods, 177
Furniture makers: Yoshikawa Takashi, 163
Furoshiki, 186
Fusuma, 23, 28, 36, 51
Futatokoro, 250
Futon cover, 22, 188
Fuzukue, see Writing desks

Gama Sen'nin, 226

Gardens, 13
Gashira, 250, 250, 251
Gauguin, 62
Genroku era, 8, 121; pottery, 120
George Walter Vincent Smith Art Museum, 236
Ghosts, 92, 96
Gerber, Donald K., 210, 212, 213
Ginkakuji, 13
Girl's Day Festival, 268
Glass picture, 19
Golden Phoenix Pavilion, 7
Gonin-bayashi, 271
Gosha ningyō, 21, 272, 272, 273
Goten ikō, 172
Greenfield, Charles, 92, 102
Guns, 255

Hachōdai, 172
Haiku, 7, 64
Hajiki, 114
Hakama, 180
Hakodansu, 164
Halberds, 251; heads, 7
Hall of Dreams, 6
Han-nya, 90
Hanajishi, 91
Hanakago, 290
Hanami-bentō, see Boxes: picnic Handaka Sonja, 92, 98, 105
Handle shapes, 161
Hangai, 165
Haniwa, 8, 8, 114, 266
Hanten, 180
Haori, 180, 183
Happi, 180
Haribako, see Boxes: sewing Harima Ki'ichi, 198
Harris, V., 220, 221
Hayashi Mitsunori, 200, 201
Hayashi Yoshikazu, 66
Hearth hooks, 172
Heater platform, 174, 176
Heian era, 7, 9-10; art, 30; objects, 6; poets, 64
Heiwajima, 18
Helmets, 255, 255, 256
Hibachi, 3, 168-9, 168, 169, 170
Hida, 198, 199
Hidenori, 8
Hidetada, 8
Himiko of Yamatai, 8
Hina Matsuri, 268
Hinawajū, 255
Hinaya Jirōzaemon, 270
Hindson, Mark, 92
Hirata Dōnin, 211
Hishiya Jirōzaemon, 270
Hitotsusage, 108, 110, 110
Hitsu, 152, 205
Hō-ō, see Phoenix Hokai, see Boxes: shell storage Hōko, 268
Honbako, 167
Honolulu Academy of Arts, 87
Horiki Eriko, 23
Horse: blanket, 189; pictures, 24, 56-7
Hōryūji, 6, 9, 196
Hōsō-ningyō, 281, 282, 283, 284
Hosokawa Tadaoki, 142
Hot water: bottles, 24, 26; pot, 238
Hotei, 2, 91, 134
Houton, Janel, 129
Hughes, Edward, 151
Hughes, Sukey, 23
Huthart, Robert, 97
Hutt, Julia, 23
Hyde, Liza, 30, 31
Hyottoko, 91
Ichimatsu ningyō, 272, 281-2, 285
Ii Naosuke, 129
Ikebana, 12, 289; baskets, 287-95
Ikebana International, 12
Ikeda Seisuke, 240
Ikenobō Senkei, 12
Ikkaku Sen'nin, 18
Ikō, see Kimono racks Imamura Yajibei, 126
Imperial Collections, 6
Imperial Household Agency, 8
Impey, Oliver, 118, 129
Inaba Michitatsu, 90
Incense: boxes, 196, 262; burners, 126, 204, 211, 229, 239; clocks, 173, 174, 204; items, 204
Ingen, 230
Inrō, 5, 7, 88, 90, 92, 98, 98, 99 100-1, 100-1, 202; collectors, 102
Inrō schools and artists, 90, 98; Asakusa school, 97; Bazan, 97; Bunryūsai, 100; Bunshōjo, 97; Deme
family, 97; Gansui, 97; Garaku, 96; Genryōsai Minkoku I and II, 97; Gyokusai, 101; Hakata school,
97; Hamano Kuzui, 100; Harumitsu, 97; Hida Takayama school, 97; Hidari Issan, 97; Hidari
Toyomasa, 97; Hidemasa, 96; Higo, 96; Hōjitsu school, 97; Hōkyō Kōrin zō, 101; Hōshin, 97; Ikkan,
97; Insai, 96; Ittan, 97; Iwami school, 97; Jitokusai Gyokuzan, 98, 101; Jōkasai line, 100; Kagetoshi,
97; Kaigyokusai, 96-7; Kajikawa school, 100; Kajun, 96; Kakosai, 101; Kanman, 97; Kanō Tomokazu,
97; Kanshōsai/ Tōyō school, 100; Kenya I, 101; Kōami, 101; Kokei, 97; Kokusai, 97; Koma Kansai I
and II, 100, 101; Koma Kōryū, 99; Koma Kyūhaku, 5, 100; Koma school, 100; Kōryū, 100;
Masakatsu, 97; Masanao, 97; Masanobu, 97; Minkō, 97; Mitani Gohō, 97; Mitsuharu, 97; Miwa group,
97; Nanka, 97; Nanyō, 97; Ogasawara Issai, 97; Ogawa Haritsu Ritsuō, 101; Ogiyama Masahide, 99;
Okatomo, 97; Okatori, 97; Ōnogi Senzō, 100; Rakumin, 97; Rantei, 97; Ritsuō, 97; Ryūkōsai Jugyoku,
97; Ryūsai, 100; Ryūsansai, 97; Ryūshin, 100; Sankō, 96; Sansei-sai Yōkei, 99; Satō Masayoshi, 97;
Seibei, 97; Seiyōdō Tomiharu, 97; Sessai, 97; Shibayama school, 97, 100; Shigemasa, 96, 96; Shinsai,
100; Shiomi Masanari, 101; Shūgetsu, 97; Shūko, 96; Shunshō, 101; Sō school, 95, 97; Somada
school, 100; Sōshichi, 96; Sukenaga, 97; Suketomo, 97; Tadatoshi, 97; Tadayoshi, 97; Taishin, 100;
Tamba school, 97; Tametaka, 97; Tokoku school, 97; Tomochika school, 97; Tomokazu, 101;
Tomotada, 97; Tomotane, 97; Toyomasa, 97; Tsuji, 96; Yoritake, 97; Yōsei family, 100; Yoshimura
Shūzan, 96; Yoshinaga, 97; Zeshin, 100, 101
International Netsuke Society, 95
Ishikawa Takeshi, 6, 13
Ishō dansu, see Chests: clothing Ishō ningyō, 279-80, 280, 281
Ivory: carving, 224, 224-7; swords, 20
Ivory carvers: Hōmei Yoshida, 225; Ikkō, 226; Shiota Toshiaki, 227; Shunkō, 226; Yūmin, 224

Jahss, Betty, 92
Jahss, Melvin, 92
Japan Craft Forum, 137
Japonisme art movement, 62, 81, 86, 212
Jars, 116, 122, 127, 133, 138, 140, 142
Jimbai, 180
Jingū, Empress, 274-5
Jingū ningyō, 274-5
Jirōzaemon-bina, 269, 269, 270
Jitte, 255
Jittoku, 10, 33, 92
Jizai-kagi, see Hearth hooks Jōkō-ban, see Clocks, incense Jōkotō, 244
Jōmon era: culture, 6; earthen jar, 6; pottery shards, 8
Jūbako, see Boxes: food Juban, 180
Jūni-hitoe, 186
Jurōjin, 92

Kabuki theater, 14, 14, 280

Kaempfer, Engelbrecht, 228
Kaga family, 129
Kaibutsu, 18
Kaidan dansu, see Chests: staircase Kake-suzuri-bako, 167
Kakejiku, 28, 40
Kakemono, 28, 40
Kakushi, 157, 166
Kama, 230
Kamado, 168
Kamakura, 200
Kamakura-bori, 196
Kamakura period, 8, 10; swords, 244
Kamban, see Shop signs Kan'ami, 13
Kan'ei-bina, 269
Kan'non: statues, 6, 7, 33, 218, 221, 221
Kanō Tessai, 6
Kansai, 289
Kanzan, 10, 33, 92
Kanze acting troupe, 13
Kappa, 91
Kara-e, 30
Karasu tengu, 91
Karesansui, 10, 13
Karp, Herbert, 136
Karu, 93
Karyōbinga, 90, 92
Kashi-bako, see Boxes: cake Kasuga no Tsubone, 269
Kasuri, 186, 189
Katachiki, 190
Katana, 244
Katana-dansu, see Chests: sword Katō Gallery, 82, 84
Katō Kiyomasa, 274; doll, 279, 279; netsuke, 108
Kawade Shobō, 66
Kazari dansu, 166
Kazaridana, 166
Kempon, 40
Kendai, see Lecterns Kendi, 123, 125
Kettle makers: Koizumi Nizaemon, 230; Nishimura Dōya, 230
Kettles, 230-1
Keyes, Roger, 71
Khalili, Nasser, 235
Kibo Foundation, 235
Kimono, 7, 15, 178, 179, 180, 182, 183, 186 191
Kimono racks, 171-2, 173, 184, 185
Kinchaku, see Money purses Kinkakuji, 13
Kinko, 157
Kirin, 91, 239
Kiseru, see Pipes Kiseruzutsu, see Pipe cases Kiso, 198, 199
Kita Toshiyuki, 23
Kitano Fumio, 19
Kiyohime, 91, 92
Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum, 207, 236
Klotz, Jeffrey, 110
Knaepper, Gerd, 144, 151
Knuckle-dusters, 255
Kō-bako, see Boxes: incense Kō-dokei, see Clocks, incense Kō'ami family, 196
Kōawase, 204
Kōbō Daishi, 9
Kōdaiji, 196, 197
Kodansu, 167
Kōdōgu, 244
Kōfukuji, 9
Kofun era, 6, 8
Kōgai, 249
Kōgō, see Boxes: incense Kokedera, 13
Kokin-bina, 269, 269, 270
Kokin Itarō, 270
Kokon Shin'ichirō, 198
Korea: arts from, 8; Buddhism, 8; porcelain, 118, 121; potters, 142, 143; screens, 30, 36; Kōrin school, 10
Kōro, see Incense burners Kosode, 179, 180, 181
Kozuka, 15, 249, 250, 250
Kraak designs, 116, 121
Kress, Else, 98
Kress, Heinz, 98
Kubota Beishō, 269, 270
Kūkai, 9
Kura, 6, 165
Kuruma dansu, see Chests: wheeled Kusakabe Folk Crafts Museum, 223
Kusarigama, 255
Kusuri dansu, see Chests: medicine Kuwayama, George, 211
Kwan-yu, 92, 93
Kyōdai, see Mirror stands Kyōho-bina, 268, 269, 270
Kyōka, 64
Kyokuroku, see Chairs: priest's Kyōsoku, see Elbow rests Kyoto, 230, 289
kyūdō, see Archery

Lacquerware, 15, 194; collecting and care, 207; history, 196-7; techniques, 198-201
Lacquerware artists, 201-2; Akabori Ikuhiko, 202-3; Hon'ami Kōetsu, 202; Ikeda Taishin, 202; Kawabata
Naokichi, 202; Kawanabe Itchō, 197, 202; Nagata Yūji, 198; Ogata Kōrin, 197, 203; Ogawa
Haritsu, 202; Ogawa Shōmin, 202; Ritsuō, 202; Shibata Zeshin, 202, 202, 204; Shirayama Shōsai,
202, 203; Terai Naoji, 202
Landscapes, 33
Lane, Richard, 66, 82
Lanterns, 169-70, 171, 206, 228
Lawrence, Louis, 126
Lazarnick, George, 92
Leach, Bernard, 136, 145, 151
Lecterns, 172, 205
Line markers, 24, 24
Lion-dog, 91, 106 110, 124, 127
Literati painters, 15; Hayami Gyoshū, 15; Higashiyama Kai'i, 15; Hishida Shunsō, 15; Ike Taiga, 15;
Imamura Shikō, 15; Kawanabe Kyōsai, 15; Kobayashi Kokei, 15; Kuroda Seiki, 15; Maeda Seison, 15;
Okada Beisanjin, 15; Okumura Togyū, 15; Sakaki Hyakusen, 15; Shibata Zeshin, 15; Shimomura
Kanzan, 15; Takeuchi Seihō, 15; Tani Bunchō, 15; Tomioka Tessai, 15; Uemura Shōen, 15; Umehara
Ryūzaburō, 15; Uragami Gyokudō, 15; Watanabe Kazan, 15; Yamamoto Baitsu, 15; Yasuda Yukihiko,
15; Yokoyama Taikan, 15; Yosa Buson, 15
Living National Treasures, 136, 141, 144, 202, 284
Locks, 161
Los Angeles County Museum, 92
Ma, 7
Machi-bori, 250
Maiwai, 186
Maki-e, 194, 196, 198, 199, 199, 202, 203; panels, 203
Mamori gatana, 244
Manchuria, 9
Mandalas, 9, 9, 10, 30
Maru-andon, 169, 170
Marunaka Magobei, 236
Masayoshi, 94
Mask carvers: Deme family, 223
Masks, 221, 223
Matsudaira family, 130
Matsuo Gisuke, 236
McArthur, Meher, 58
McCarthy, John, 172
McLeod, Mike, 136
Medicine grinders, 24, 24
Meiji era, 9, 154; artists, 15; furniture, 154; metalwork, 231, 234-5, 244; ukiyo-e, 71
Menuki, 249, 250, 250, 251
Meoto, see Chests: husband and wife Metal inlays, 92
Metalworkers/firms: Araki Tōmei, 250; Byakurō saku, 235; Chōkichi, 230; Gotō family, 249, 250; Gotō
Ichijō, 250; Gyokutōsai, 237; Hiroshima Hidemitsu, 250; Ikkin, 250; Issei, 237; Isshō, 250; Isshō, 250;
Jiryūken Hidemitsu, 253; Jōchō, 218; Joshun, 235; Jōun, 237; Kaikei, 10, 218; Kaitekian, 240;
Kakō, 240; Kanō Natsuo, 236, 250; Kiryū Kōshō Kaisha, 236; Kōkei, 10, 218; Komai,217, 228,
236, 240; Kuniyasu, 230; Kuroda, 231; Masatsune, 234; Miyabe Atsuyoshi, 229, 231; Miyao,
232, 240; Musashiya Co., 240; Myōchin, 237, 240; Nara Toshinaga, 250; Nihon Koku, 234;
Narita Eizui, 252; Ōzeki Co., 240; Ryōunsai, 240; Sadasumi, 228; Seiryūsai Hidetoshi, 253;
Shōami Katsuyoshi, 231; Sōmin, 255; Sudō Seihō, 229; Sugiura Jōi, 250; Suzuki Chōkichi, 240;
Tanaka Kiyotoshi, 250; Tetsugendō Naoshige, 252; Tori'i family, 218; Tsuchiya Yasuchika, 250;
Unkei, 10, 218, 220; Un'no Moritoshi, 240; Un'no Shōmin, 234, 240, 250
Metalworking, 216; history, 228; techniques, 228-30
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 82
Meyer, Anita, 288
Michener, James, 82
Milgrim, Richard, 151
Military: items, 24; plates, 25; scenes, 33
Minamoto no Yoshitsune, 274-5; doll, 278
Mingei Movement, 139, 145, 146, 151
Mino ceramics, 143-4, 144
Mirror stands, 171-2, 172, 200, 206
Mita Arts Gallery, 84
Mitate, 92, 95
Mitokoro, 250
Mitsuore bijin, 281
Miyazaki Yūzen, 187
Mizusashi, 262
Mizuya, see Chests: kitchen Moeran, Brian, 136, 142
Mol, Serge, 255
Momoyama period, 8; lacquerware, 196; screens, 31; swords, 244
Mompe, 180
Monet, 62
Money purses, 110
Mongol invasions, 8
Mono no aware, 7
Montsuki, 180
Mori Yoshitoshi, 22, 85
Morikago, 290
Morioka, 230
Morita Akio, 18
Moss, Sydney, 92
Motifs: fukusa, 186; kasuri, 189; lock plates, 161; menuki, 250; sagemono, 90-2; screens, 33
Murase Miyeko, 30, 197
Murata Masayuki, 103, 236
Muromachi period, 8, 10
Musashibō Benkei, 274, 275; doll, 275, 278
Musha ningyō, 274, 274-9
Myōchin Ki-no-Munesuke, 256
Myōshō, Empress, 268
Mystic prayer verses, 6
Mythical animals, 91

Nagahibachi, 168
Nagamochi, 152, 165
Nagatake Takeshi, 118
Naginata, see Halberds Nagoya Cloisonné Co., 213
Nambokuchō era, 8
Nara period, 7
Narazaki Muneshige, 71
Natsume, see Tea caddies Netsuke, 4, 5, 7, 18, 88, 89-92, 89-93, 95-8, 95-7 102, 108, 110, 112,
113, 202
Netsuke cabinets, 94, 113
Netsuke schools and artists, 90, 96-7; Basetsu Sanjin, 95; Clive Hallam, 95; Ikko, 90; Kaigyokusai, 96;
Masanao, 113; Minkō, 91; Minkoku, 93; Sangetsu, 92; Sō School, 95; Tomotada, 95; Zeshin, 95
Nigatsudō, 172
Nightmare eater, 92, 96, 127, 220
Nihon Shoki, 30
Nihonbashi, 269
Nihonga, 40
Nikkō temples, 7
Nilsson, Jan-Erik, 136
Nintoku,Emperor: grave, 6, 8
Niō, 92
Nishi-Honganji, 220
Nishiki-e, 66
Nō theater, 13-14, 272, 279; costume, 182; masks, 223
Noodle cups, 123
Nue, 9
Nunome zogan, 236
Nurimono, 205

Obi, 180, 184, 184, 185

Obi clasp collectors: Ikeda Shigeko, 103; Okazaki Chiyo, 103; Yoshioka Yoshiko, 103
Obi clasp makers: Kyūsai, 103; Lynn Richardson, 103; Mitsuharu, 103; Morita Sōko, 103, 103; Natsuo,
103; Tessai, 103; Yoshihiko, 103; Yukio, 103
Obi clasps, 88, 103, 103
Oda Nobunaga, 8, 220, 244
Obidome, see Obi clasps Ogasawara Nobuo, 244
Ohara Unshin, 12
Ojime, S, 88, 92, 102, 102
Ojime carvers: Kagetoshi, 102; Mitsuhiro, 102; Toshi, 102; Toshinaga, 102
Ōjin, Emperor, 274, 275; doll, 276-7, 279
Okakura Kakuzō, 11
Okakura Tenshin, 7, 15
Okamochi, see Boxes: food delivery Okiko, Princess, 268
Okimono, 15, 220, 224, 244
Okinawa, 201
Okuni, 14
Oni, see Demons Osaka Prints, 71, 71, 73, 74

Pagodas, 9
Painters: Hiraga Gen'nai, 14; Itō Jakuchū, 14; Maruyama Ōkyo, 14; Nagasawa Rosetsu, 14; Shiba Kōkan,
14; Soga Shōhaku, 14; Tori'i Kiyotada, 14
Painting: styles, 14-15; techniques, 7, 10
Paris Exposition of 1867, 212
Pate, Alan, 266, 284
Phoenix, 91, 106
Phoenix Hall, 9-10, 13
Pictorial calendars, 66
Pillows, 24, 26
Pipe case makers: Baikō, 105; Hasegawa Ikko, 104; Hōetsu, 106; Horiyoshi, 105; Hōshunsai Masayuki,
105; Kangetsu, 107; Kenya, 104, 107; Kikugawa, 108; Kokusai, 105, 106; Kyokyo, 106; Rensai,
105, 105; Ryūi, 107; Seisei-Chiharu Eigetsu, 107; Shibayama, 105, 106; Tessai, 104
Pipe cases, 88, 92, 104-5, 104-9
Pipes, 88, 92, 104
Pitcher, 141
Plates, 25, 115, 119, 120, 121, 123, 131, 132, 134, 135, 139, 141, 144
Poets: Ariwara no Narihira, 64; Bunya no Yasuhide, 64; Kisen Hōshi, 64; Ono no Komachi, 64; Ōtomo no
Kuronushi, 64; Sōjō Henjō, 64
Pond, Gardner, 136
Porcelain, 114, 116; Asakusa Banko, 136; Banko, 136; Chinese, 118; Hirado, 126, 126-7; Imari, 22, 115-
24, 118, 120-2, 212; Japanese, 116, 118; Kakiemon, 21, 124, 125; Kiyomizu-yaki, 130; Korean, 118;
Kotō, 129; Kutani, 20, 128-9, 128-9; Kyōyaki, 130, 130; Nabeshima, 125, 125; Poo ware, 136;
rakuyaki, 129, 130; Satsuma, 131, 132-3, 132-3; Sumidagawa, 136; transfer and stencil-printed,
134, 134, 135
Porcelain painters: Aoya Gen'uemon, 128, 129; Honda Sadakichi, 128; Kutani Shōza, 128; Matsuya
Kikusaburō, 128; Saida Isaburō, 128
Postcards, 23
Potteries: Agano, 142; Akahada, 143; Bizen, 138, 139; Echizen, 141; Hagi, 143; Iga Ueno, 143, 143;
Karatsu, 11, 141; Ōkawachi kiln, 125; Onta, 142, 142; Seto, 11, 140, 141; Shigaraki, 91, 140;
Takatori, 142; Tamba, 138, 139, 139, 140; Tokoname, 141, 142
Potters: Abe Anjin, 139; Aoki Mokubei, 148, 149; Arakawa Toyozō, 145; Fuji'i Sachiko, 145; Fujimoto
Yoshimichi, 145; Fujiwara Kei, 139; Fujiwara Yū, 139; Fukugawa Eizaimon, 151; Hamada Shōji, 136,
144, 144, 145, 145; Hara Gozan, 136; Harada Shūroku, 138, 139; Hirado clan, 118, 122; Ichino
Satoru, 139; Ienaga Shōemon, 118; Ikuta Kazutaka, 140; Ikuta Tazutaka, 138; Inoue Ryōsai, 136,
151; Ishiguro Kōko, 136; Itō Tōzan, 151; Kakurezaki Ryūichi, 139; Kamoda Shōji, 145, 145;
Kaneshige Tōyō, 139; Katō Hajime, 145; Katō Tōkurō, 144; Katō Tomotarō, 151; Kawaii Kanjirō,
136; Kimura Koraku-en, 138; Kinjō Toshio, 150; Kinkōzan, 131, 133; Kitaōji Rosanjin, 145;
Kiyomizu Masahiro, 130; Kobashikawa Niō, 150; Kobayashi Sohei, 133; Kumano Kuroemon, 141;
Lee Sam P'yong, 118; Makuzu Kōzan, 146, 147, 149, 151; Matsuda Kiyoshi, 149; Matsura family,
126; Miwa Kyūsetsu XI, 143; Miyagi Sumiko, 150; Miyajima, 144; Miyanaga Tōzan, 147; Miyashita
Zenji, 130; Mizuno Hanjirō XIII, 141; Mori Tōgaku, 139; Nabeshima clan, 122; Nakazato Tarōemon
XII, 141; Nonomura Ninsei, 130; Ogata Kenzan, 8, 130; Ogata Karin, 130; Okishio, 149; Otsuka
Keizaburō, 144; Poo You-she, 136; Ri Kei, 143, 143; Ri Sampei, 118; Ri Shakkō, 143; Rihei, 130;
Sakaida Kakiemon, 122, 124; Sakurai Fuji, 136; Samejima, 149; Sasaki Chōjirō, 130; Seifū Yohei III,
146, 147, 151; Seikōzan, 133; Sezan, 136; Shibata Masa'aki, 139; Shimaoka Tatsuzō, 144, 144,
145; Shimizu Toshihiko, 140, 146; Shimizu Uichi, 130; Shizan, 132; Sōzan, 131, 133; Suwa Sosan
II, 151; Takebe Shōkō, 133; Tamura Kōichi, 144; Tanimoto Mitsuo, 143; Teruya Yoshinobu, 150;
 Tomimoto Kenkichi, 136; Tsuboi Asuka,l30; Uezu Shigeo, 150; Veri, 144; Yabu Meizan, 132, 133,
133; Yamada Shinman, 150; Yamamoto Tōshū, 139; Yoshimoto Tadashi, 138
Potters, studio, 146, 149, 151
Pottery, 116; areas, 139-43; exhibitions, 116; Jōmon era, 6, 8; kilns and techniques, 122-36; terms, 149;
Yayoi era, 8
Prefectural Craftgoods Association of Japan, 136
Pricing, 20
Pronk, Cornelius, 120
Puppet theater, 272, 280, 281

Raiden, 91, 92
Raigō, 9, 10, 33
Raijin, 92
Rakuchū rakugai, 33
Ramma, see Transoms Reif, Rita, 102
Restoration, 18-19
Rimpa artists, 9, 10, 40, 54, 130, 203
see Karesansui Rokudō-e, 10
Rock/pebble gardens,
Ryōshi-bako, see Boxes: stationery Ryū, see Dragon Ryū-ami, 12
Ryūjin, 92; attendant, 89

Sabi, 7
Sagemono, 15, 88, 205; fascination of, 92, 95; historical records, 90; motifs, 90-2
Saichō, 9
Saisenbako, see Boxes: offertory Saké: barrels, 24, 27, 205; bottle, 130; cup rinsing bowls, 128; cups,
138, 150, 205; flask, 142; pitchers, 204, 205; pourers, 123
Salmon, Patricia, 87
Sanogawa Ichimatsu, 281
Sashiko, 190-2
Satsuma clan, 132
Savage, George, 228-9, 235
Screen and scroll artists: Hakuin Ekaku, 12; Hasegawa Tōhaku, 10; Hokusai, 53; Ikyō, 12; Itō Jakuchū,
51; Josetsu, 28; Kaihō Yūshō, 10; Kanō Eitoku, 10; Kanō Mitsunobu, 10; Kanō Osanobu, 10; Kanō
School, 35, 37, 48; Kanō Tangen, 34; Kanō Tanshin, 34; Kanō Tanyū, 10; Kansai Mori Ki'itsu, 10;
Kō Hōgen, 31; Koshuku, 54; Kyōno, 30; Machi-Kanō school, 29; Minakami Taisei, 47; Mio Goseki,
55; Munakata Shikō, 48; Ogawa Ukō, 46; Oka Shumboku, 34; Rimpa School, 40, 54; Sakai Dōitsu,
54; Sanraku, 10; Seikō, 33; Sesshū Tōyō, 11, 33; Shiba Kōkan, 15; Sōtatsu, 10; Takenaka Kido, 55;
Tawaraya Sotatsu, 52-3; Tori'i Kiyotada, 14; Tosa Mitsunobu, 10; Tosa studio, 35; Uchida Gozan, 55;
Uemura Shōen, 48; Unkoku Tōgan, 51; Yokoyama Taikan, 48
Screens, 16, 28, 29-47; collecting, 48, 51-2, 54-5; common subjects, 33; gold, 31; golden age of, 10;
history, 30; lacquerware, 20, 205; sizes, 35-6; structural improvements, 30; with calligraphy, 35
Scrolls, 4, 11, 12, 14, 15, 28, 40, 48-55; collecting, 48, 54-5
Sculpture, 20, 216; history and techniques, 218, 220-1
Sculptures, 218-223, 231-40
Sculptors: Kei family, 10; Miyao, 20
Seiōbo, 4, 92, 93
Seki Kazuo, 120
Sekido Kengo, 95
Sencha, 230
Sengoku era, 8
Senryō-bako, see Boxes: money Seven Lucky Gods, 33, 91, 231
Shachihoko, 91
Shiba Tori, 8-9
Shibayama, 94
Shibori-zome, 189
Shibui, 7
Shichi-fuku-jin, see Seven Lucky Gods Shichinin-bayashi, 271
Shields, 251
Shiki, 114
Shimazu family, 133
Shin-hanga, 81
Shintō, 221
Shippō, 210
Shiraishi Masami, 202
Shishi, see Lion-dog Shiten'nōji, 8
Shōgun, 6, 9
Shōjō, 281
Shokudai, see Candle stands Shop signs, 173-4, 175
Shōsōin Imperial Storehouse, 6, 9, 18, 224
Shōtoku, Empress, 6
Shōtoku Taishi, 6
Shōwa era, 9
Shukongōjin images, 9
Shunga, 64-6
Shuriken, 255
Silverman, Richard, 113
Silverwork, 235, 238-40
Sleds, 174, 174
Sliding doors, see Fusuma Smith, L., 96, 220
Smoking trays, 172, 173
Sōbian, 51
Soga Umako, 13
Sōken Kishō, 90, 96, 211
Sori, see Sleds Sōsaku Hanga group, 81
Spareness, 7
Spears, 251
Statler, Oliver, 81, 82, 84
Stencil/lithograph, 22
Steps, portable, 174
Stern, Itske, 283
Stoneware, 114, 116, 118, 120, 130, 138-40, 143, 144-6 149, 150, 151
Storage: prints, 87
Stratification, 7
Stylization, 7
Sueki, 114, 116
Suzuri-bako, see Boxes: calligraphy Suzuta Yukio, 120
Sword guards, see Tsuba Swords, 15, 20, 242, 244-9, 254; care, 251; collecting, 250-l; fittings, 249-50,
250-5; history, 244; identifying, 248; making, 246-8; terminology, 254; see also Dummy swords
Swordsmiths, 244; Dewa Daijō Kunimichi, 249; Gyokoku, 245; Hagiya Katsuhei, 248; Kanemoto,
248; Katsuo, 245; Kobayashi Iseno-Kami Kuniteru, 248; Masanori, 248; Sukehiro, 246; Umetada
Myōju, 247; Unshū Naganobu, 249; Yasuhiro, 246; Yasuie, 244; Yoshimitsu, 245; Yukimasa, 242

Tabaka bon, see Trays: smoking Tachi-bina, 268, 269

Tagasode, 33
Taishō era, 9
Takatsuki, 130
Takeda family, 280
Takeda ningyō, 267, 280, 282
Takenouchi no Sukune, 274; doll, 276-7
Tamamushi Shrine, 196
Tamo-no-Mae, 105, 107
Tanaka Hidemichi, 67
Tango no Sekku, 274
Tansu, see Chests Tantō, 20, 245, 248
Tanuki, 91
Tarai, 205
Tate, 251
Tawara Museum, 207
Tea: bowls, 263, 265; boxes, 173; caddies, 205, 260; chests 166-7, 167; kettle, 263; pots, 123, 149; scoop,
262
Tea ceremony utensil makers: Iguchi Kaisen, 262; Katsuo Seiryūdō, 263; Kawabata Kinsa, 260; Maehata
Gahō, 262; Ōhi Kanbei V, 264; Sugimoto Sadamitsu, 263
Tea ceremony utensils, 11, 260-5; collecting, 262-3; prices, 261-2
Tea drinking, 230, 258, 260-l, 288
Tea house, 11, 260, 261, 264-5
Tea masters: Furuta Oribe, 143; Kobori Enshū, 142, 143, 211, 260; Sen Rikyū, 11, 12, 130, 224, 260, 289;
Takeno Jōō, 11
Te-bako, see Boxes: bedside Tekkai Sennin, 93
Temmyō, 230
Temples: safekeeping role, 6
Tempyō era, 7
Tenaga, 107
Tengu, 91, 221
Tenugui, see Towel racks Teppō, 255
Tetsubin, 230
Textiles: collecting, 192-3; dyeing, 187-90; fibers, 186; history, 180; recycling, 193; weaves, 186
Tierney, Lennox, 11
Tobacco pouches and purses, 88, 92, 105, 109, 110, 110
Tochigi, 144
Tōdaiji, 7, 9, 10, 30, 221, 228
Tokonoma, 40
Tokugawa Iemitsu, 13, 269
Tokugawa Ieyasu, 8
Tokugawa period, 8
Tokyo Ivory Organization, 224
Tolman Collection, 82, 84
Tonkotsu, see Tobacco pouches and purses Tōsei gusoku, 255
Toshima, 212
Tōshōdaiji, 9
Tōshōgū Shrine, 220
Tosk,Susan, 210
Towel racks, 205, 205
Toyotomi Hideyoshi, 8, 10, 11, 12, 118, 200, 224, 244, 260-l, 279; doll, 275, 278, 279, 282
Transoms, 172, 223, 223
Trays: lacquer, 202, 205; porcelain, 132; smoking, 172, 173
Tsuba, 15, 249-50, 251-3
Tsuita te, 171
Tsuri -tōrō, 170
Tsutsugaki, 22, 187, 188-9
Tsutsumi, 265
Tureen, 122
Uchikake, 180, 182
Ueda Reikichi, 90
Uemura Bunrakuken, 281
Ujlaki, Peter, 62
Ukiyo-e, 7, 8, 15, 58, 60, 62, 59-87; collecting, 84; displaying and storing, 87; erotic, 64, 66; foreigners in,
70-l; genuineness, 87; history, 66, 69; landscape artists, 67, 69; Meiji prints, 71; Osaka prints, 71;
popularity in the West, 62, 64; Sharaku's influence, 67; twentieth century, 81-2
Ukiyo-e artists, 85-6; Suezan Aikins, 86; Akamatsu Rinsaku, 78; Akiyama Iwao, 85; Aōdō Denzen, 70;
Ay-ō (Iijima Takao), 85; Azechi Umetarō, 85; Charles Bartlett, 76; Georges Bigot, 86; Sarah Brayer,
86; Bunchō, 66; Fritz Capelari, 78; Eisen, 69, 69; Eizan, 69; Enokidō Maki, 85; Fang Zhen Ning, 86;
 Funasaka Yoshisuke, 85; Hamanishi Katsunori, 82, 85; Hara Takeshi, 85; Harunobu, 66; Hasegawa
Yūichi, 85; Hashiguchi Goyō, 81; Hiraga Gen'nai, 70; Hiratsuka Un'ichi, 81; Hiratsuka Yūji, 85;
Hironobu, 71; Hirosada, 71; Hiroshige, 59, 62, 64, 67, 68, 69; Hokuei, 71; Hokusai, 62, 64, 65, 67;
Hokushū, 71; Owen Hunt, 86; Helen Hyde, 86; Idō Masao, 85; Ikegami Isao, 82; Imamura Yoshio,
83; Itō Shinsui, 81, 81; Itō Takumi, 85; Iwami Reika, 83, 85; Paul Jacoulet, 86; Margaret Johnson, 86;
Kaigetsudō, 66; Clifton Karhu, 86, 86; Kawada Kan, 85; Kawase Hasui, 81; Elizabeth Keith, 86;
Daniel Kelly, 85, 86; Kitaoka Fumio, 85; Kiyochika, 64, 69; Kiyonaga, 61, 66; Kiyonobu I, 66;
Konobu (Sadanobu II), 71, 73; Koryūsai, 61, 66; Kunichika, 74; Kunisada (Toyokuni III), 64, 66, 69,
72; Kunitora I, 69; Kuniyoshi, 64, 69, 72; Kuroda Shigeki, 83, 85; Kurosaki Akira, 84, 85; Liao
Shiou-ping, 86; Maki Haku, 85; Masanobu, 60, 66; Peter Miller, 86; Minami Keiko, 85; Mori
Yoshitoshi, 85; Moronobu, 66; Munakata Shikō, 80, 81; Nakayama Tadashi, 85; Nakazawa Shin'ichi,
83, 85; Oda Kazuma, 77; Oda Mayumi, 85; Ohara Koson, 78; Onchi Kōshirō, 81; Joshua Rome, 86;
Sadahide, 70, 71; Saitō Kiyoshi, 80, 81, 81, 85; Sawada Tetsurō, 85; Sharaku, 67; Shiba Kōkan, 70;
Shigenaga, 66; Shinoda Tōkō, 85, 85; Shunbaisai Hokuei, 73; Shunchō (Hokushō), 73; Shunshō, 66;
Joel Stewart, 86; Sugiura Kazutoshi, 85, 87; Sukenobu, 66; Takahashi Hiromitsu, 85; Tanaka Ryōhei,
85, 87; Toshi, 81; Toshimoto, 74; Toyoharu, 61; Toyokuni I, 63, 69; Toyokuni II, 69; Urakusai
Nagahide, 71; Utamaro, 62, 66; Wakō Shūji, 85, 85; Watanabe Sadao, 85; Brian Williams, 85, 86,
87; Charles Wirgman, 86; Yamamura Kōka, 79; Yoshikazu, 71; Yoshida Hiroshi, 81; Yoshi'iku, 71;
Yoshitora, 70, 71; Yoshitoshi, 64, 69, 74, 75; Yoshiwara, 62; Karyn Young, 86
Ushiwakamaru, 274, 275; doll, 278

Vajra, 255
Van Gogh, 62
Vases: celadon, 147; cloisonné, 209-12, 214, 215; metal, 217, 230, 231; Ming, 12; porcelain, 122, 124,
133, 146; stoneware, 138, 140, 144-6
Verwilghen, Jean, 105
Victoria and Albert Museum, 92

Wabi, 7
Wabi cha, 224, 289
Wagener, Gottfried von, 212
Wajima, 198
Waka, 7, 8, 64
Wakai Kenzaburō, 236
Wakakusadera, 8
Wakizashi, 244
Walters Art Gallery, 204, 205, 207
Warner, Langdon, 218, 220
Washi, 23, 51
Watanabe Shōsaburō, 81
Water: jar, 147; pitcher, 263
Wedding paraphernalia, 203-4
Western style painters: Foujita Tsuguharu, 15; Fujishima Takeji, 15; Hiraga Gennai, 14; Kuroda Kiyoteru,
15; Okada Kenzō, 15; Shiba Kōkan, 14; Takehisa Yumeji, 15
Western subjects, 70-1, 78, 79
Weston, Richard, 18
Winkworth, William, 92
Woodblock prints, see Ukiyo-e Wrangham, E. A., 92, 100, 101, 194
Wright, Douglas, 92
Writers: Ariwara no Narihira, 7; Bashō, 8; Chikamatsu, 8; Fujiwara Teika, 8; Izumi Shikibu, 7; Ki no
Tsurayuki, 7; Murasaki Shikibu, 7; Ono no Komachi, 7; Sai-kaku, 8; Sei Shōnagon, 7; Yosano Akiko,
9
Writing boxes, 167, 195
Writing brush holder makers, 111; Baitetsu, 111; Chikuzan, 112; Ryūmondō, 111; Ryū'undō, 111; Tansai,
111
Writing brush holders, 111, 111
Writing desks, 173, 198, 204
Writing utensils, 204

Yabusame, 255
Yagura, 174
Yagura dokei, see Clocks: lantern Yakushiji, 9
Yamato-e, 10, 30
Yanagi Sōetsu, 136
Yanagisawa Gyōzan, 143
Yari, 251
Yatate, 88, 111, 111, 112
Yayoi era, 6, 8
Yellin, Robert, 139, 142
Yogi, 188, 193
Yokohama prints, 70-1
Yono Fuyuhiko, 144
Yoroi, 255
Yōseidō Gallery, 82, 84
Yoshida Kenkō, 7
Yoshida Yukari, 103
Yōshiki-ka, 7
Yoshitsune, 33
Yūgen, 7
Yukata, 180, 189
Yumedono, 6
Yūsoku-bina, 269, 270
Yutō, see Hot water pitchers
Zeami, 13-14
Zen, 10, 30; and Tea, 260, 288; images, 33
Zen painters, 10; Hakuin Ekaku, 10; Kaō Ninga, 10; Kichizan Minchō, 10; Mokuan Reien, 10; Sesshū
Tōyō, 10
Zenibako, 167
Zodiac animals, 90-1
Zushi, 221
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author would like to express deep gratitude to the many people who helped him with this project, the
photo libraries of Kyoto National and Kobe City Museums, Osaka City Museum of Modern Art, Osaka
Municipal Museum of Art, and Tokyo National Museum, and particularly the following who unstintingly
provided photographs and/or valuable information.

MUSEUMS

Ishikawa Prefecture Historical Museum

Japan 920, Kanazawa City, Debana-cho 3-1

Izumi no Kuni History Museum

Japan 594-1152, Izumi-shi, Manabino 2-4
Tel & Fax: 0725-53-0802

Keisei Isogaya Museum

Japan 329-2801, Tochigi-ken, Nasu-gun,
Shiobara-cho, Sekiya 1089-1
Tel: 0287-35-3332
Fax: 0287-35-3335

Kiyomizu San'nenzaka Museum

Japan 605-0862, Kyoto, Higashiyama-ku,
Kiyomizudera-monzen, Sannenzaka
Kita-iru, Kiyomizu 3-337-1
Tel: 075-532-4270
Fax: 075-532-4271
E-mail: info@sannenzaka-museum.com

Mori no Bijutsukan
Japan 197-0003, Fussa City, Kumagawa 600
Tel: 042-551-0720
Fax: 042-551-3382

GALLERIES

Alan Pate of Akanezumiya

P.O. Box 370, St. Ignatius, Montana 59865,
USA
Tel: 406-745-6717
Fax: 406-745-6718
Website: www.akanezumiya.com

Jean and Clifford Shaefer of Flying Cranes

Antiques, Manhattan Art & Antiques Center (Galleries 55-58), 1050 Second Avenue,
New York, New York 10022, USA
Tel: 212-223-4600
Fax: 212-223-4601
E-mail: flyingcranes@netlinkl.net

Hiramatsu Masana of Fukube

Japan 658-0003, Kobe, Higashinada-ku,
Moyoyama Kitamachi 2-3-20
Tel: 078-412-1111
Fax: 078-451-8482

Kawasaki Tetsu of Gallery Sōbian Japan 605-0064, Higashiyama-ku,

Shinmonzen-dori, Higashi-Oji Nishi Iru,
Umemoto-cho 259, Kyoto Screen Building,
2nd Floor
Tel: 075-541-8786
Fax: 075-541-9677
E-mail: info@sobian.com
Fumio and Akemi Kitano of Gomoku-dō
Japan 605-0082, Kyoto, Higashiyama-ku,
Shinmonzen-dori, Hanami Koji, Nishi Ira
Tel: 077-522-2307
Fax: 077-521-6543
E-mail: ken@gomoku-do.com

Hiruta Michiko of Hōman-dō

Japan 104-0061, Tokyo, Chuō-ku, Ginza 1-9-1
Tel: 03-3561-6697
Fax: 03-3561-5831

Liza Hyde (by appointment in Manhattan)

Tel: 212-752-3581
Fax: 212-751-6319
Website: www.liza-hyde.com

John Adair of Kurofune Antiques

Japan 106-0032, Tokyo, Minato-ku,
Roppongi 7-7-4
Tel: 03-3479-1552
Fax: 03-3479-0719
Website: www.kurofuneantiques.com
David and Ken Caplan of Mita Arts Gallery
Japan 101-0051, Tokyo, Chiyoda-ku, Kanda
Jimbo-cho 1-10, Ivy Building, 4th Floor
Tel: 03-3294-4554
Fax: 03-3294-4556
Website: www.mita-arts.com

Kuwahara Kazuo of Oriental Treasure Box

Cracker Factory Bldg, 448 West Market Street,
San Diego, California 92101, USA
Tel & Fax: 619-233-3831
Website: www.orientaltreasurebox.com

Susan Tosk and David Cole of Orientations Gallery P. 0. Box 1018, New York, New York 10021,
USA
Tel: 212-772-7705
Fax: 212-317-0323
Website: www.orientationsgallery.com

Robert Fleischel and Yoshida Yukari of Sagemonoya Japan 160-0004, Tokyo, Shinjuku-ku,
Yotsuya 4-28-20-702
Tel: 03-3352-6286
Fax: 03-3356-6581
Website: www.netsuke.com

Ellen Eber of The Incurable Collector

P. 0. Box 18460, Rochester, New York 14618, USA
Tel: 585-442-9846
Fax: 585-442-3863

Norman and Mary Tolman of The Tolman Collection Japan 105-0012, Tokyo, Minato-ku,
Shiba Daimon 2-2-18
Tel: 03-3434-1300
Fax: 03-3459-9282
Website: www.tolmantokyo.com

Peter Ujlaki
Japan 659-0082, Ashiya, Yama Ashiya-cho 1-18
Tel: 0797-31-7058
Fax: 0797-31-4830
Website: www.OsakaPrints.com

Anne and Stephen Bentley, England David and Naomi Bos, England

John Bowen of Tōken Kenkyū Kai, Japan John Burns, New Mexico

Charbonel/Cole family, Switzerland

Ichimichi Kazutoyo, Japan

Ikeda Toshio, Kobe photographer

Julie and Preben Jensen, England/Denmark

Kōwa 21, Osaka

Joseph Kurstin, Florida

Montgomery Collection, USA

Mushakōji Senke School of Tea Ceremony, Kyoto David and Sally Pabst, USA

Sotheby's

Tankosha Publishing, Kyoto

Tsuda Yoshio and Ann, Kobe

And the nameless Heroine and heroes who helped along the way!