During his lifetime Japan was forced to come to terms with the outside world, from which it had been isolated for two hundred years.
The prints on view in the exhibition—borrowed from noted private collections—are presented chronologically and there are two main themes: the ways Yoshitoshi’s work reflected Japan’s radical transformation, and the development of his style over more than three decades. Organized and curated by John Stevenson, a scholar
During the second half of the nineteenth century, Japan was struggling to transform itself from a feudal state into an imperial nation. This swift and radical transition, unprecedented in Japan’s history, caused a descent into chaos and civil war. The Japanese people were thrust into turmoil in every aspect of their lives—political, social, economic, cultural, and artistic. Some of prints in Yoshitoshi’s Strange Tales are responses to changes in the culture during this uncertain time.
Numbering among the print artists who survived the turmoil, Yoshitoshi went on to create a body of masterpieces, for which he achieved renown. In the era that followed, when many Japanese were becoming overeager to assimilate Western tastes, however, ukiyoe came to be considered passé. Yoshitoshi’s work was overshadowed—and then forgotten. It was only in the late 1960s that he was rediscovered and was once again appreciated for his mastery.
Ukiyoe originally meant pictures of the “floating world” of entertainment; these pictures depicted Kabuki actors, courtesans, and landscapes. Yoshitoshi preferred different subjects, especially stories from Japan’s folklore and history. Yoshitoshi’s Strange Tales is built around two series: One Hundred Ghost Tales of Japan and China, which the artist designed at the beginning of his career, and New Forms of ThirtySix Strange Things, which he designed at the end. Both deal with supernatural happenings and contain similar subject matter, but stylistically they are so different that they could be by different artists.
Putting these series in context are prints from throughout Yoshitoshi’s career that show the maturing of his work within a changing Japan, including the contemporary urban tales he illustrated for Tokyo newspapers. Colors are intense, gestures histrionic. In his last series, One Hundred Phases of the Moon, the artist moves beyond the swirl of momentous events to depictions of individual emotions. The exhibition reveals a traditional culture moving at breakneck speed into the modern world.
Among the first grouping of is Saito Oniwakamaru and the Carp, dated 1873, from the series Essays by Yoshitoshi. This print depicts Oniwakamaru, the “Little Devil” (the childhood nickname of the legendary warriorpriest Benkei, 1155– 1189), trying to kill a giant carp that had attacked and eaten his mother when she fell into its pool. Oniwakamaru, looking robust, is riding on the back of the giant fish, holding a knife in his teeth. The scales of the fish are carefully delineated and make a striking pattern against the blue water. In spite of the gruesome story, the scene Yoshitoshi created is not only dynamic but graceful.
Another print on view in the first presentation, A Geisha in the Snow, 1880, is from the series TwentyFour Hours at Shinbashi and Yanagibashi. In this serene print Yoshitoshi depicts a geisha setting out for a midnight assignment accompanied by a male attendant, who holds an umbrella for her; against the dark background, snow falls lightly. Over her traditional kimono, the geisha wears a plaid woolen shawl, which during the Meiji period (1868–1912) would have been a novel import from the West. This evocative scene shows that Yoshitoshi was able to depict contemporary subjects in a traditional style.
In the early Meiji period, Shinbashi and Yanagibashi were the of two most popular entertainment districts in Tokyo (called Edo until 1868). Yoshitoshi is said to have been particularly fond of the Shinbashi geisha. In the series TwentyFour Hours at Shinbashi and Yanagibashi, he interpreted each hour of the geisha’s day; the title on the upper right of this print indicates that the scene takes place at midnight.
ShortSighted Old Man and Ineffectual Ghost, dated 1881, from the series Crazy Pictures of Famous Places in Tokyo, is also on view. For this halfsize print, Yoshitoshi designed an amusing ghostly scene and signed it “Yoshitoshi giga” (drawn playfully by Yoshitoshi). In a cemetery, a shortsighted old man appears unconcerned about a ghost’s attempts to scare him. In his effort to see the ghost more clearly, the man holds his eyeglasses close to the lantern. He appears to be amused as the ghost rises from a grave pulling a face.
The man wears a plaid woolen shawl, which during the Meiji era (1868–1912) would have been a novel import from the West. The rightfacing swastika on the gravestone is an ancient Buddhist symbol. The word kyoga in the title of this print can be translated as “crazy” or “outrageous” and implies something satirical or having a sense of humor, a quality that has long been an undercurrent in Japanese art.
The Old Woman Retrieves Her Arm, dated 1889, from the series New Forms of ThirtySix Strange Things, illustrates the wellknown old supernatural story in which Watanabe no Tsuna cut off the arm of the demon Ibaraki near the Rashomon Gate in Kyoto (in the year 976).Watanabe took the arm home and put it in a box, storing it in a secure place. In order to seize the arm back, Ibaraki visited Watanabe disguised as his aunt, insisting that Watanabe show the arm to him. When Watanabe gave in, the demon grasped the arm and flew off, revealing his true form.
This story was made into popular plays in the Noh and Kabuki traditions. Yoshitoshi’s print represents a moment in a Kabuki version of 1883, in which the disguised Ibaraki seized his cutoff arm and fantastically transformed himself back into a demon, the actor bouncing down the apron of the stage showing the claws beneath his white robes. The evillooking face, gnarled arm, and grotesque claws protruding from old woman’s feet in this print reveal Ibaraki’s horrible nature.
A print on view in the second grouping, on view through September 2, offers an example of Yoshitoshi addressing Japanese society in transition. Kanasugi Bridge at Shibaura, 1863, from the series The Tokaido Highway, Tokaido, depicts a moment in the journey of Tokugawa Iemochi (1846–1866), the fourteenth shogun of the Tokugawa line, from Edo (present day Tokyo) to Kyoto. The shogun traveled to the court in order to discuss the possibility of rescinding the imperial order to expel foreigners from Japan. For more than three hundred years Tokugawa shoguns had ruled Japan, including the imperial court, from their grand castle in Edo; Iemochi’s trip was unprecedented and clearly indicated that the shogunate’s power and authority were weakening.
The direct cause for the fall of the shogunate was the arrival in 1853 of the socalled black ships, a squadron of American warships under the command of Commodore Matthew Perry, whose mission it was to pressure Japan to open its ports to American vessels. Perry’s negotiations with the shogun’s high officials were highly successful, resulting in the signing of the Kanagawa Treaty the following year. This incident left the Japanese people longing for the fall of the shogunate, which could no longer protect them, and a return to imperial rule. Kanasugi was a famous fishing village on the Tokaido Highway during the Edo period (1615–1868). This site had been made familiar to the Japanese through woodblock prints by such artists as Ando Hiroshige (1797–1858).
Yoshitoshi’s Strange Tales is on view concurrently at the Asian Art Museum as the exhibition, Tezuka: The Marvel of Manga, an exhibition showcasing the work of Tezuka Osamu (19281989), and icon of the manga (Japanese comics) movement. The two exhibitions offer interesting comparisons. Japanese woodblock prints are often considered forerunners to manga; indeed it was a great Japanese woodblock artist, Hokusai, who first popularized the term with his collections of whimsical sketches beginning in 1814. There are important differences; for example, the essence of modern manga is the way they tell a story in a streamlined, episodic way, whereas woodblock prints tell their tales in a single sheet, often filled with extraordinary detail. But both are graphic art produced as commercial products for the visually literate Japanese mass market.
The photo shows “Mount Yoshino Moon at Midnight—Iga no Tsubone,” 1886, from the series One Hundred Phases of the Moon, Tsuki hyakushi, by TaisoYoshitoshi (1839–1892). Signed: Yoshitoshi. Woodblock print, ink, and colors on paper. Collection of Harvey Garneau Jr. -- www.asianart.org
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