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Abstract
The Japanese pavilion at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition was much admired by visitors. Unlike most of the fair buildings, however, the Ho-o-den remained in situ on the Wooded Island long after the exposition was over, thus providing an architectural reference for anyone interested in Japanese design. This is the second of two articles, the first of which appeared in issue 8.2 of the Journal of Japonisme and detailed the design, construction and initial reception of the Ho-o-den at the fair. This second instalment explores Ho-o-den’s influence on the design of 20th century architecture and graphic design.
Abstract
The American industrialist Charles Lang Freer (1854–1919) amassed an outstanding collection of Asian, Near Eastern, and contemporary American art that he bequeathed to the Smithsonian Institution in 1906, together with plans for a museum to house his collection, the Freer Gallery of Art. Deeply influenced by the innovative American artist and Japoniste James McNeill Whistler (1834–1903), Freer envisioned the museum as a holistic setting for his collection, harmonizing aesthetics from both East and West. Freer’s meticulous attention to design and detail extended to the mountings for his large collection of Chinese and Japanese paintings. His plans included hiring scroll mounters from Japan to remount over 350 of the paintings onto panels, choosing antique textiles to suit his taste, a taste inspired by antiquarian trends. Together with archival records and textile sample books, an album of photographs and other mementos from the Miura family of mounters recently acquired by the museum elucidates this remarkable achievement and the historical context of Japanese scroll mounting in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.
Abstract
In Chapter 6, “Celebrating the Present: The New World of Kibyōshi Unlocked by Mr Glitter ’n’ Gold,” Tanahashi Masahiro complicates our understanding of the 1775 Kinkin sensei eiga no yume (Mr Glitter ’n’ Gold’s Dream of Splendor), ubiquitously celebrated as the first kibyōshi (yellow-cover book). English-language scholarship has insisted on its intertextual qualities and its ability to define, albeit obliquely, the essence of the Edo sophisticate. There is some recognition that it displays an interest in the latest fashions. Tanahashi pushes this line of inquiry further, arguing that engagement with the here and now is what mattered most in (this) kibyōshi. Tanahashi deploys his encyclopedic knowledge to meticulously illustrate how Kinkin sensei eiga no yume is a celebration of whatever was topical, including the economic and political reality of its time. Tanahashi’s analysis points to a reading experience akin to a hunting expedition. Those in the know can discern the subtle hints to the extradiegetic reality. The others are left with the pleasing façade of the rise-and-fall story of Mr Glitter ’n’ Gold, before the moment of awakening. Tanahashi explains that by the 1820s Kinkin sensei eiga no yume had become almost impenetrable. This, in turn, alerts us to the difficulty of unlocking the pleasures of kibyōshi when reading them in the twenty-first century, without the chance to experience the early modern daily life of Edo. Tanahashi teaches us that engagement with the present is a major hallmark of early modern Japanese graphic narratives.
Abstract
In chapter 2, “The Creative Process,” Takagi Gen discusses the creative team that is behind the publication of early modern Japanese graphic narratives by delving into a close reading of a double-page spread from the 1818 gōkan (combined booklets) titled Takarabune kogane no hobashira (Golden Mast of the Treasure Ship). We learn that kusazōshi were the product of a team of professionals that included publisher (hanmoto), author (sakusha), illustrator (gakō), copyist (hikkō), block-cutter (hangishi), and printer (hansuri). Takagi’s close reading of the visual and the verbal components of this spread takes us behind the scenes of the publishing process, revealing the craftsmanship involved in the making of these books and bringing us closer to the many human struggles that these professionals faced. A fascinating reading for anyone interested in questions of authorship.
Abstract
In Chapter 8, “Generative Interactions: The Osmotic Boundaries Between Kusazōshi and Ukiyo-e,” Fumiko Kobayashi deploys her vast knowledge of both early modern Japanese art and literature, and asks us to bridge the two disciplines. This chapter is a fascinating and unconventional journey into one of the most celebrated Japanese artists of all times: Hokusai (1760–1849). By working with kusazōshi both penned and illustrated by Hokusai as well as with his single-sheet prints, Kobayashi shows how Hokusai used kibyōshi (yellow-cover books) to experiment with ideas that his artistic genius would later refine. Along the way Kobayashi introduces us to less-known texts that play with the complexities of the figurative language. Kobayashi argues that humor, blissfully inconsequential humor, is unleashed as a result. This chapter appeals to anyone interested in knowing more about Hokusai and his genius.
Abstract
“Introduction to the World of Kusazōshi” is designed as a stand-alone, short introduction to early modern Japanese graphic narratives as a whole, while mapping out what follows in the edited volume. As such it assists anyone who approaches the subject for the first time and can be of use in the classroom. In this introduction, the editors explain the choice of the label “graphic narratives” and explore the basics of kusazōshi, including key scholarship produced to date in Japanese and English language. The booklover will even be offered a virtual tour of the bookshop that publisher Nishinomiya Shinroku ran in 1801.
Abstract
In chapter 15, “Kusazōshi as Comic Books? Reading Early Modern Graphic Narratives from a Manga Studies Perspective,” Jaqueline Berndt puts to the test the conceptualizations of kuzazōshi as comic books by subjecting two early modern graphic narratives to mangaesque reading. Berndt comes to this experiment as a scholar who works in the field of visuals arts and media cultures with a focus on manga and anime as multimodal serial narratives. The textual and visual analysis that is deployed in this chapter is eye-opening. Berndt asks us to think about aspects of visual storytelling rarely taken up by the scholar of early modern Japanese graphic narratives. She asks us to dissect the visual flow, to follow the gaze, to engage with the body language, and to explore the empathetic response enabled by the visual language. For Berndt, this analysis leads to the identification of inherent differences between story-manga and kusazōshi. Berndt also points to an exciting direction. She argues that illustrated novels (sashie shōsetsu) and picture stories (e-monogatari) produced between the 1930s and the 1950s can be viewed as “occupying an intermediate position between kusazōshi and contemporary manga narratives.” A must-read for anyone interested in the connection between early modern Japanese graphic narratives and manga.