Utagawa Kunisada (1786-1865) was the most popular and prolific designer of <em>ukiyo-e</em> in 19th century Japan. He is estimated to have produced between 20,000 and 25,000 designs for woodblock prints during his lifetime. His reputation was clinched when he was in his early twenties; it was as great as that of his teacher Toyokuni I, and lifelong. His status was largely unchallenged in his lifetime, though it was long unfairly neglected because of cyclical attitudes to Japanese prints. Frank Whitford recognised this early on: ‘Perhaps because of his huge output… Kunisada has not been treated well by the historians of <em>ukiyo-e</em>, although much of his work… reached the highest standards.’ His reputation was rescued considerably later than those of Hiroshige and Kuniyoshi, really only dating from the 1990s through the scholarship of Jan van Doesburg and Sebastian Izzard. Kunisada showed the versatility typical of print designers; while best known for his depictions of kabuki and his <em>yakusha-e</em> actor prints, he was also a specialist in <em>bijin-ga</em> (beautiful women), illustrations from <em>The Tales of Genji</em> and more luxurious <em>surimono</em> prints.
This <em>bijin-ga</em> reflects Kunisada's links with the classical past. In it, a small portrait of the poet and lines of verse on two playing cards at upper left refer to the game popular in middle-class domestic settings and brothel worlds alike, where players match halves of poems. Here, the short <em>waka</em> verses are from the famous Heian collection <em>Hyakunin isshu</em> (<em>One hundred poems by one hundred poets</em>). The scroll cartouche at upper right contains a biographical note about the poet Chūnagon Otomo no Yakamochi (718–785), editor of the <em>Man’yō Shū</em> verse collection (c. 759) and one of the Thirty-six Poetic Immortals. The poem reads:
<em>kasasagi no </em>
<em>wataseru hashi ni</em>
<em>oku shimo no</em>
<em>shiroku wo mireba</em>
<em>yo zo fukenikeru</em>
When I see the whiteness
of the frost that lies
on the bridge the magpies spread,
then do I know, indeed,
that the night has deepened
The juxtaposition of a classical verse with the image of a <em>yūjo</em> brothel-quarter woman throughout this series may seem incongruous, but women of the Yoshiwara were expected to have a knowledge of classical verse and to embrace it into the verbal intercourse of their engagements. During the 19th century they also adopted other Heian habits, particularly in mannerisms of dress and deportment. This prints is characterised by the almost excessive colour and ornamentation that early 20th century critic A.D. Ficke blamed in Kunisada as coarseness, marking the ruin of the woodblock print, but which a later, more tolerant age may well now admire as gorgeousness.
Te Papa has another print in the same series, <em>Kanke</em> (<em>Sugawara no Michizane</em>), poet no. 24 (2016-008-35).
Sources:
David Bell, 'Floating world at Te Papa: the Heriot collection', <em>Tuhinga</em>, 30 (2019), pp. 56-81.
David Bell and Mark Stocker, 'Rising sun at Te Papa: the Heriot collection of Japanese art', <em>Tuhinga</em>, 29 (2018), pp. 50-76.
Frank Whitford, <em>Japanese Prints and Western Painters</em> (London, 1977).
Dr Mark Stocker Curator, Historical International Art May 2019
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