THE COLLECTOR
The field of Japanese prints is so wide, and the cost of different
classes of prints is so various, that almost any taste and almost any
pocket-book can find appropriate material for collection. A print-lover
who is prepared to invest considerable sums of money, running perhaps
into many thousand pounds, will naturally seek only important examples
from the hands of the most renowned designers. A great collection must
in the first place contain representative specimens of the distinctive
manners of the notable men in each period; and in addition a great
collector will wish to acquire considerable numbers of the supreme
treasures--large-size Primitives, Harunobu pillar-prints, Kiyonaga
triptychs, Utamaro silver-prints, Sharaku portraits, matchless
impressions of Hiroshige landscapes, and the like. But even the modest
collector who is able to expend only a few pounds a year can, with
patience, secure beautiful and desirable pieces. It would be vain for
him to imagine that he can have things of the first importance and
rarity; but he may confidently expect to obtain delightful minor
examples of the work of even great artists, at prices that are within
any one's reach. A Yeishi triptych will cost from ten to eighty pounds,
but a charming small sheet by Yeishi can perhaps be bought for two. The
pleasure which the collector obtains from his collection is not
necessarily proportionate to the amount of his expenditure; and the
intelligent lover of beauty can derive lasting satisfaction from his
carefully selected but inexpensive little group of Hiroshige landscapes,
Shunsho actors, Harunobu book-illustrations, and similar works.
When, however, the owner of some such sheets finds his ambition is
growing with his interest, he needs to be somewhat cautious in his
effort to extend his collection. A few charming minor prints are a
highly desirable possession; a large collection of them is not. It is
easy for the lover of prints who has begun modestly to go on year after
year with increasing enthusiasm, piling up numbers of cheap mediocre
sheets; and in the end, after having spent enough money to purchase ten
great Kiyonagas, he finds himself the owner of a numerous but
undistinguished collection in which there is not a single print of the
first rank, nor a single one that will compel the admiration of the
connoisseur. It is interesting to have a few prints of each type and
period as examples, even though they are not notable works; but when the
collector has a moderate number he will be wise to cease his
miscellaneous buying and husband his resources for the occasional
purchase of a masterpiece. More pleasure is to be found in acquiring two
or three fine sheets a year than from the wholesale acquisition of
hundreds of insignificant works.
It is, however, well to define one's limits carefully. If one is not
able to expend from ten to a hundred pounds on a single print, one must
dismiss from one's mind the idea of owning an important Kiyonaga; for
that is the lowest sum at which one can hope to get it even with luck.
If an expenditure of thirty to eighty pounds is impossible, one must put
aside all idea of a Sharaku. But lesser treasures at lower prices are to
be had; let the collector only remember to take care that he gets the
best things he can afford even though his purchases be few, rather than
allow himself to be tempted into buying a great many of a cheaper kind.
Remarkable opportunities to acquire fine prints at low prices sometimes
occur, but they are rare. Certain prints may come up for sale only once
in a collector's lifetime. These exceptional examples must be seized
when they are offered; one of the characteristics of a great collector
is the ability to make these swift and often expensive decisions. He
must know the available supply of prints and the probability of having
another chance to get this particular sheet; if he estimates such a
recurrence as improbable, and if he esteems the print a masterpiece, he
must take it at any price he can afford to pay.
It is, after all is said, the masterpieces that bring the unwaning
satisfaction. Most collectors find that the few supreme treasures of
their collections give them more pleasure than all their other prints
put together. Therefore it is well for the inexperienced collector to
bear in mind that quality, not quantity, will prove his most profitable
aim. For it is one of the delightful characteristics of collecting that
the collector's perception is likely to grow continuously in fineness;
and the acquisitions of his earlier years may fail to satisfy his more
educated taste of later days. This will sometimes be true of even the
prints he once loved best; and much more is it likely to apply to those
which he bought merely because they were cheap or would increase the
bulk of his collection.
Discrimination is the life-blood of collecting. He who collects
everything collects nothing; he is the owner of a scrap-heap or a
second-hand shop, not of an ordered series of specimens that illustrate
historical or artistic ideas. The true collector would rather have ten
selected prints than the whole mass of prints now in existence, if in
the latter case he had to keep them all. Many a collection has been
improved both in monetary value and in power to give pleasure by merely
throwing out of it the second-rate things it contained.
The collector, as a rule, sets out in the beginning with little
knowledge and with no very definite notion of what he intends to
collect. If he is to profit by his efforts or is to end by having an
interesting group of possessions, he must before long define for himself
the idea of a collection and the conception which his own is to express.
He may decide to obtain at least one representative example of the work
of every important artist; or he may prefer to specialize, and assemble
all that he can of the works of a single man or a single period. A
certain well-known collector has selected Harunobu and Shunsho as his
special objects of interest, and has brought together a notable and
illuminating series of specimens of their work. Another has chosen
Hiroshige, and after many years of effort he can display to the student
a fine copy of almost every important print by that artist. A third has
especially sought the works of Kiyonaga; while a fourth has pursued the
less costly but very interesting aim of bringing together the sheets of
Kuniyoshi. Another is devoted to surimono; still another, to
pillar-prints. The possible list of specialities is inexhaustible.
Narrow and exclusive specialization is, however, uncommon among amateurs
of Japanese prints; and even the specialist tries to have in his
collection a few representative examples of all important types.
The inexperienced collector may find himself confused, amid so many
unfamiliar names, and fail to separate in his mind the notable artists
from those of secondary interest. A little study of the following list
will perhaps be of assistance. It contains thirty-two names, selected
from the three or four hundred mentioned in this book; each one in the
list is important, and a collection that contained even one fine example
by each of these designers would represent very fairly the whole scope
of the art. In fact, the beginner will not go far astray if at the
outset he confines his purchases to the work of the men here listed; he
will at least be saved from the danger of accumulating the productions
of unnoteworthy designers. The names preceded by two stars are the ten
outstanding figures whose historical and artistic importance makes it
imperative that they be adequately represented in any self-respecting
collection. Thirteen more names, preceded by one star, are of next
conspicuousness. A collection containing a really brilliant example by
each of these thirty-two men would cost from three hundred to three
thousand pounds to bring together, depending upon the quality and
importance of the prints selected.
_List of Principal Artists._
* Buncho
* Choki
** Harunobu
** Hiroshige I
** Hokusai
* Kiyomasu
* Kiyomitsu I
** Kiyonaga
* Kiyonobu I
* Kiyonobu II
** Koriusai
* Kwaigetsudō
Masanobu (Kitao)
** Masanobu (Okumura)
** Moronobu
** Sharaku
* Shigemasa
* Shigenaga
* Shuncho
Shunko (Katsukawa)
Shunman
** Shunsho
Shunyei
Sukenobu
Toshinobu
Toyoharu
Toyohiro
* Toyokuni I
* Toyonobu (Ishikawa)
** Utamaro I
* Yeishi
Collecting is to a certain extent creative; for the picture of the art
of Japanese prints that a collection presents is almost as definitely an
expression of a personal interpretation as is a book on the subject.
What the collectors treasure will be preserved; what they reject will
doubtless perish as valueless.
One of the collector's joys is the sense that he is laying by
immeasurable riches for posterity. Much remains for us still to learn
from Japanese prints; and any sheet in a collection may prove to be the
key that will some day unlock doors leading to treasure-chambers. Both
historically and æsthetically, the field of Japanese prints still offers
many undiscovered regions to the explorer. By making available the
material for such investigations, the collector performs a valuable
service.
The collector's own satisfaction is not dependent upon the fact of
possession. To seek, to desire ardently, is not to covet; and the most
eager collectors are the very ones who most thoroughly enjoy a beautiful
print owned by another. Possession is an accident; but enjoyment is a
form of genius.
Collecting at its best is very far from mere acquisitiveness; it may
become one of the most humanistic of occupations, seeking to illustrate,
by the assembling of significant reliques, the march of the human spirit
in its quest of beauty, and the aspirations that were its guide. To
discover, preserve, relate, and criticize these memorials is the
rational aim of the collector. The joy of pursuit which he experiences
is a crude but delightful one; and discovery has the triumphant
sweetness of all successful effort. The act of restoring and preserving
is a pious service to the future, and a delicate handicraft. To arrange
examples in accurate relation to each other, and illustrate a conception
of complex history by means of concrete specimens, is a constructive
task that involves detailed knowledge and wide vision. And finally, the
attempt to appraise the spiritual values of the parts and the whole may
be an illuminating achievement, relating all this material to the
general stream of cultural development and to the history of the race.
The best way to study an art of the past is to collect examples of it.
The collector's historical sense is trained and his discriminative
powers are sharpened by his activities. As his education progresses, his
chief interest is in works of an ever higher quality. He attempts always
to acquire the best, and his knowledge of what is best is always
widening. His is the task of judging between degrees of perfection. It
differs not so very widely from that desperate search for an ideal
fulfilment which is the curse, the inspiration, and the one abiding joy
of the artist.
The artist's sense of triumph in an achievement must be only momentary;
if he continues long to regard his creation as admirable, he has reached
the stagnation of his powers and the end of his career; he must ever
hate to-day what he created yesterday, in order that he may be driven on
to produce a still finer thing to-morrow. The collector, also, must
eventually abandon his present position and move forward; and, tragic to
confess, perhaps his ultimate triumph comes on that day when the field
he long has loved ceases to suffice his growing sense of beauty, and he
sends his collection under the hammer, having mastered it and passed
beyond it. For every collector must in the end transcend his
collection, unless he is to perish in it as in some fatal Saragossa Sea.
A collection is a life-estate only, and the important question confronts
every collector as to what disposition shall be made of his possessions
after his death. My personal feeling is strongly against the bequest of
such a collection to a public institution. These prints are inherently
suited to private exhibition and not to public display. They must be
kept in portfolios, not hung up in galleries, or they fade. They must be
examined closely and at leisure; the spectator should be able, seated at
ease, to study them as he holds them in his hand. To walk through a
gallery of prints is only a slight pleasure; to sit in the library of
the collector and inspect and discuss the same prints one by one is a
great delight. Further, they require a degree of care that they would
not receive in the public institutions. The prints in most public
collections are repaired, mounted, and handled with a carelessness that
horrifies the collector. That painstaking skill in restoring,
preserving, and mounting to the best advantage, which means so much for
the ultimate effect of a print, is seldom, if ever, exercised except by
the private owner. It may be said that if these treasures are in private
hands, the public is deprived of them. This is untrue. The great body of
the public would pass them by in a gallery, for this is not a
spectacular or obtrusive art like sculpture. On the other hand, any
person who gives evidence of a reasonable degree of interest can not
only obtain free and willing access to all the private collections with
which I am familiar, but he may have at his disposal the services of the
owner of the collection to explain, interpret, and guide. There are at
present scores of highly trained men, of such cultivation as the museums
cannot afford to employ except in the highest positions, who are
spending weeks and months out of every year in this unpaid work of
serving the public; while in the great public collections the ordinary
inquirer is left adrift to find his way as best he can through the chaos
of an improperly arranged exhibit. In the public collections the prints
are of service or pleasure to almost nobody; while in the private
collections their service and pleasure to the owner and his friends is
great, and the same opportunities are easily opened to any one who is
qualified to profit by them. Therefore it seems better that, upon the
death of a collector, his prints should be sold; in order that, as
Edmond de Goncourt directed in the case of his collection, those
treasures which have been so great and so personal a delight to the
owner may pass on into the hands of such others as will find in them the
same satisfaction. "My wish is," he wrote in his will, "that my
drawings, my prints, my curios, my books--in a word those things of art
which have been the joy of my life--shall not be consigned to the cold
tomb of a museum, and subjected to the stupid glance of the careless
passer-by; but I require that they shall all be dispersed under the
hammer of the auctioneer, so that the pleasure which the acquiring of
each one of them has given me shall be given again, in each case, to
some inheritor of my own taste."
CONSIDERATIONS GOVERNING THE CHOICE OF PRINTS.
A variety of elements must be weighed in the mind of the collector
whenever he decides for or against the purchase of a particular specimen
to add to his collection.
THE ARTIST.--In the first place, the authorship of the print is an
important consideration. If the designer is a very great man like
Kiyonaga, or a very rare one like Kitao Masanobu, or both combined like
Shigemasa, these facts must be given weight. Other things being equal, a
print by an important leader such as Utamaro is more desirable than one
by a less original follower such as Banki. A Kiyonaga is a little
preferable to an equally beautiful Shuncho, because of Kiyonaga's prime
historical importance. The work of certain other men is prized by
collectors because of its scarcity; Chincho, for example, would be only
moderately valued were it not for the extraordinary rarity of his
designs. When rarity combines with greatness, as in the case of
Kwaigetsudō, Moronobu, Buncho, and Sharaku, the desirability of the
artist's work is naturally doubled in the eyes of the collector.
A print sometimes derives an unusual interest from the fact that it is
of a kind seldom produced by the particular artist who designed it.
Harunobu and Kiyonaga actor-prints are exceptional things, dating from
the early years of these men's careers. On the other hand, the
silver-prints of Utamaro, the triptychs of Kiyonaga, and the
yellow-background prints of Yeishi are desirable for the opposite
reason; they represent famous and characteristic aspects of the work of
their respective creators.
THE QUALITY OF THE DESIGN.--The impression produced upon the æsthetic
sense of the collector is the most vital of all the elements that
determine his choice. The composition, the drawing, the total beauty of
the design, will in each individual case have their importance; and upon
the collector's estimate of these qualities will depend his desire to
own the print. There are some dull and uninteresting designs by even the
most gifted men--work without charm or life. Shunsho was a great sinner
in this respect; so also were Utamaro and Toyokuni. On the other hand,
men of secondary importance produced occasional triumphs; a Yeisho or a
Yenshi is sometimes found in which the most brilliant qualities of
composition appear. Each print must be appraised on its own merits.
The collector generally passes by all designs in which clumsiness or
awkwardness is evident, and waits patiently for those in which the
force, or grace, or dignity of the composition proclaims the
masterpiece. Kiyonaga's "Terrace by the Sea," Sharaku's portrait of the
Daimyo Moronao, Hokusai's "Red Mountain," and Utamaro's "Firefly
Catchers" are examples of that unsurpassable quality which no
experienced collector willingly lets escape him.
THE QUALITY OF THE IMPRESSION.--Different copies of the same print
differ enormously in quality. The finest design is of little avail if
the work of the printer has not been judicious. Among early prints,
before Utamaro, really bad impressions are not very common, although
especially fine and brilliant ones are hard to obtain. Later,
particularly in the work of Hiroshige, the poor ones much outnumber the
good. In a good impression the lines are all sharp and clean: where the
hair meets the temples, every brush-stroke is clearly defined. The
blacks are rich and heavy, not sooty or streaked. The colours must be in
perfect register; that is, each must exactly fill its allotted space
without overlapping and without ragged edges. Prints in which these
defects occur are either careless impressions or late impressions from
worn blocks. Whichever be the explanation, they are not desirable; the
discriminating collector does not care to acquire any but perfectly
printed sheets. All the skill and devotion of the printer was needed to
make the resulting product a just interpretation of the conception of
the designer; in a bad impression the beauty of the design is ruined.
Prior to the nineteenth century it was the usual practice to give each
colour-block a uniform coat of pigment; thus each separate colour
impressed on the paper was completely flat and unshaded. In Hiroshige's
time, however, the pigment was often partially wiped from portions of
the block, so that in the resulting print the colour shades gradually
into the uncoloured white of the paper. Many of Hiroshige's prints
derive a considerable portion of their beauty from the subtlety of these
gradations.
There are no such things as signed artist's proofs among Japanese
prints; but there is a class of prints that corresponds to them. They
are not labelled; nothing distinguishes them from the ordinary copies
except the extreme beauty of the printing. These rare impressions were
probably early ones made under the eye of the artist. The sharpness of
the lines, the harmony of the colours, and the delicacy of gradation in
any shaded portions are of a perfection lacking in the ordinary copies.
It took much care and time, and was therefore expensive, to produce such
work; and probably the majority of purchasers were unwilling to pay the
additional price entailed by this degree of attention. The few existing
copies of this character are exceptionally prized by the collector
to-day.
The colour-schemes used in printing various copies of the same print
often differ widely, and there is considerable difference in
desirability on this ground alone. Some of Hiroshige's prints are found
in monochromes of blue or of grey--some of Hokusai's are in bluish
green. These rare and beautiful variations from the normal are highly
valued. On the other hand, the late prints of Hiroshige are generally
printed in raucous greens and reds and purples that are an offence to
the eye; and only rarely do we find copies of them in which a soft and
harmonious colour scheme reveals the intention of the artist. This
explains why certain prints from the "One Hundred Views of Yedo"
sometimes bring fifteen or twenty pounds apiece, though multitudes of
ordinary copies of the identical print can be purchased for a few
shillings each. Badly coloured examples of Hiroshige's work are
plentiful and of little value; harmonious and subtly modulated ones are
things of unsurpassable beauty, and almost as rare as Kiyonagas. The
collector of Hiroshige prints will scrutinize a specimen with the utmost
care to determine whether the colour scheme is harmonious, and whether
the pigments have been applied in the delicately graded luminous manner
that Hiroshige intended. If he finds that the various tones are harsh in
quality, or are printed in crude, unshaded masses, he will reject the
sheet. Considerable familiarity with really fine impressions is the only
safeguard in this matter. The beginner is only too ready to be led
astray by the charm of the design, not realizing how much this same
design is enhanced if given the expression of appropriate printing; and
he is very likely to find himself loaded down with worthless
impressions, the very sight of which is repugnant to him after he has
become familiar with fine copies of the same prints. Poor copies are
worth nothing; but choice ones are never really dear at any price.
In this matter more than in any other a fine collection differs from a
poor one, and it is in this that the discriminating collector has his
best chance to match his judgment against that of the dealer. Sometimes
one can for a few shillings select from a pile of worthless Hiroshiges a
notable impression that is worth twenty times the sum asked for it.
A generally accepted classification of prints from the point of view of
the quality of the impression would be convenient. There are to-day no
recognized terms by which to describe the various grades. I therefore
suggest a division into four groups with the following terminology:--
(_a_) _Artist's Impression._--Such a print as might have been produced
under the eye of the artist himself--every line clear and sharp, every
colour delicate and perfectly registered; the total effect exceptionally
luminous and harmonious; no possible subtlety of technique left to be
desired.
(_b_) _Fine Impression._--A clear, perfect impression such as a careful
printer would normally turn out at his best, but without that inspired
fineness in every detail which distinguishes Class (_a_).
(_c_) _Good Impression._--Such a print as would pass muster with the
ordinary buyer of that day--good, but not especially fine; clear, but
not notably sharp; pleasantly enough coloured, but not distinguished in
colour scheme. Very slight defects of register or of gradation will not
exclude a print from this class.
(_d_) _Late Impression._--One in which serious defects appear, such as
bad register, raw colour, blurred definition, or any other real error.
CONDITION.--The state of preservation is one of the most important
elements that the collector has to consider. Collectors of Japanese
prints do not as a rule pay much attention to questions of margin, but
they very properly insist that the effects of time and wear shall not be
such as to obliterate or diminish the original beauty of the work
itself. The print must not be cut down in size, and its face must be
unmarred. Stains, creases, tears, abrasions, discolorations and fading
are all defects of a serious nature. Only experience can enable one to
judge whether a certain print is of such rarity that one must waive
requirements as to condition and accept a defective copy. In the case of
the Primitives, flawless examples are so few that one must needs be
content with prints that show decidedly the effect of time. The same is
true of pillar-prints. On the other hand, there is no reason why one
should ever purchase a damaged Hiroshige, unless it be an exceptional
rarity like the "Monkey Bridge." On the whole, the experience of
collectors is that in every case of doubt the faulty print should be
rejected. For as one sees a print repeatedly one's consciousness of the
defect increases, and gradually the flaw becomes more obvious to one's
observation than anything else in the print.
In many cases prints that are in undamaged condition have nevertheless
acquired with age a peculiar deadness that may not be perceptible to the
careless eye. If such a print is placed beside a perfectly fresh one,
the difference is at once apparent. In the first case, though the
surface is unmarred, there is a slight yellowing of the fibres of the
paper that prevents their sending out that vibrating luminosity which is
a distinctive beauty in the immaculate copy. This absence of luminous
quality is so common that I mention it less to caution the collector
against it than to bid him be on his guard to seize the few luminous
prints that are offered him.
It is against the really brown prints that the novice should be warned.
The difference in market value between a chocolate coloured copy and a
brilliantly white copy is enormous, amounting in some cases to a
thousand per cent. Brilliant copies are excessively rare; and since they
are the only ones desired by the great collectors, they bring record
prices.
The whole question of condition is one of personal taste; collectors are
by no means agreed about it. European collectors have been, as a rule,
less insistent upon condition than have the Japanese and Americans.
There are collectors--though they grow fewer daily--who positively
prefer faded and "toned" prints, because of their softness. This view is
an ill-advised one.
I do not say that, if one can have none other, the damaged prints may
not give one pleasure and intimations of the original beauty that was
theirs; but I do affirm that such prints are but makeshifts, and that
their market value is, and always will be, very slight. When I began
collecting many years ago in Japan, I purchased a number of Hokusai
prints that were much blackened by exposure. I thought at the time that
any trace of the work of so famous a master was worth treasuring. But I
have found that my purchase was quite valueless, not only from the
commercial point of view, but also from the artistic, since they do not
represent the work of Hokusai with the slightest approach to adequacy.
Perfect condition conveys to us perfectly the artist's conception;
anything else obliterates or modifies his design. Though the beauty of
faded or damaged prints is often indisputable, and though some prints
are so saturated with beauty that a certain charm remains as long as any
trace of the printing is visible, yet these wrecks and fragments are not
the desirable specimens. The slight softening of the colours that almost
always comes with age is perhaps not detrimental; but when the
luminosity of the colours and the brilliant whiteness of the paper is
gone, an irreparable loss has been suffered. For the white spaces and
the reflective effect of the white fibres under the coloured spaces were
integral and vital elements in the artist's design; and one cannot say
that this is not injured when the paper has been turned to a dingy
brown.
Further, it is almost childish to prefer the time-changed colours to the
fresh ones. For surely, if these prints have any value at all, it is not
the kind of value that beautifully weather-marked pebbles have: their
significance lies in whatsoever spiritual values their designers put
into them. They are not curiosities of nature, but monuments erected by
the human spirit in its search for beauty. We go very far astray when we
admire what is in fact lamentable disintegration. To delight in the
faded tone of a print is like delighting in the cracks of the Sistine
Chapel.
The matter can be made clearer if we become specific. A certain blue of
Harunobu's changes, with exposure, to yellow; and the yellow sky or
river that results is anything but what the designer intended. A certain
white of Hiroshige's oxidizes into black; the effect is unfortunate as,
for instance in prints where we now see black snowflakes. The rich
orange beloved of Koriusai and Shunsho, and the delicate pink used by
Harunobu, Kiyonaga, and Shuncho, are transformed in the course of time
into rusty black; then in the place of the luminous rooms intended when
the artist planned his composition, we see dingy mottled caverns of mud.
The brilliant early purple turns brown; the still earlier rose colour
vanishes entirely. After all these changes, how is it possible to prefer
the faded print to the fresh one? The resulting accidental effects may
happen to be beautiful, but they have a destructive influence upon those
elements which alone make the prints worthy of our serious attention as
works of art. The only marvel is that they do not more completely ruin
the beauty of the artist's work.
The chemical disintegrations of which I speak are sometimes so great
that they are very misleading to the uninformed. A writer in the London
_Times_ of November 6, 1913, reviewing the exhibition at the Albert and
Victoria Museum, discovers an amazing mare's nest. "One colour alone
Harunobu neglects in common with all his predecessors and
contemporaries," he says. "It remained for the artists of the nineteenth
century to discover the possibilities of blue--a curious and hitherto
unnoted omission." Indeed, the omission had not been previously
noted--for the simple reason that it does not exist. Harunobu used blue
a great deal, almost always in depicting water or sky; Shunsho used it
repeatedly for sky, water, and draperies in the "Ise Monogatari," and as
a solid background in certain _hoso-ye_ actor-prints of which two, in
their startling pristine brilliancy, are in the Gookin Collection;
Koriusai used blue frequently in combination with his famous orange. But
the blue used by the early artists, particularly that of Harunobu and
Shunsho, was the most unstable of colours, and it is rare to find it
unaltered by time. Generally it has turned to a delicate grey or yellow
that is very beautiful, but very far from what the artist meant it to
be.
A systematic classification of the various conditions in which a print
may be found will perhaps put the matter clearly before the beginner:--
1. _Publisher's State._--Without the slightest evidence of any change
since the hour it was printed; colours unaltered; paper absolutely new
and sparkling.
2. _Collector's State._--As a print might be after a few years in the
possession of a careful purchaser; perfect, except for having been
mounted or washed, or except for slight chemical change in the colours
due to time only and not to damage; paper white and clear.
3. _Good State._--Marred only by minor defects that would be
unnoticeable to casual observation--small worm-holes, slight tears or
creases, moderate fading of colours, or slightly rubbed surface; paper
toned but not brown.
4. _Ordinary State._--Still retaining its chief beauty in spite of
noticeable injury by tears, small stains, worn or faded colours, or
other damage; paper somewhat browned by exposure.
5. _Defective State._--Such injuries or colour changes as deprive the
print of its significance as a thing of beauty; paper browned or
stained.
RARITY.--The rarity of a print may be a factor in determining whether or
not it should be purchased. Not only does rarity affect monetary value,
but it sometimes indicates to the collector that this is perhaps the
only opportunity he will ever have to acquire this particular design.
The rain scene from Hiroshige's "Yedo Kinko Hakkei" has a higher value
than the equally beautiful rain scene from the "One Hundred Yedo
Series," for the simple reason that copies of the former are very few,
and that many collectors desire it because of its beauty. There is,
however, a danger into which many collectors fall, of esteeming rarity
as a precious element _per se_. Rarity alone, detached from other
elements of value or interest, is perhaps the most ridiculous element
that the human race has ever chosen to esteem.
ASSOCIATIONS.--Certain prints have an historical value that makes them
particularly interesting to the collector. For example, there is the
well-known triptych by Utamaro which, because of its portrayal of one of
the Shoguns in scandalous surroundings, was the cause of the
imprisonment and death of the artist. Also there is the famous memorial
portrait of Hiroshige by Kunisada, which is an especially desirable
possession because of its associations and because the subject is the
great landscape painter. Dated prints are of interest by reason of the
light they may throw on uncertain points in Ukioye history. Prints that
have belonged to famous collectors, Hayashi, Wakai, Fenollosa, and
others, derive a double interest from that fact; the association is
interesting, and the previous possession by a discriminating collector
confirms the present owner's estimate of the high quality of the print.
It should not, however, be forgotten that enterprising Japanese dealers
recognize this fact. A small red stamp can be made in Japan for about
two shillings; and a considerable number of prints now bearing the Wakai
and Hayashi seals never formed a part of these collections.
PRICES.--The subject of prices is one so complex and indeterminate that
one writes of it only with hesitancy. That which seems excessive to one
collector will be willingly paid by another. No stable standard exists;
I have had equally good copies of certain Hiroshige prints offered me at
prices as various as 10s. and £10. In discussing the matter, one can
give nothing more than an individual impression of the normal and usual
figures at which prints change hands to-day. Experience is the only
means by which a collector can equip himself on this subject. He will
acquaint himself with the prices asked by dealers and the prices at
which other collectors have obtained their specimens; and from these,
together with a careful study of auction sale catalogues, he forms his
judgment. Auction prices are likely, however, to be misleading unless
one sees the prints sold; for the fact that a certain print brought only
£3 at Sotheby's is no indication that another copy of the same print may
not be worth the £30 asked for it. Variations in condition and quality
of impression make vast differences in value. An Artist's Impression of
Hiroshige's famous Tokaido print, "Rain on Shono Pass," might bring £20;
a Fine Impression would perhaps sell for half that; a Good Impression
would be worth about £4; while a Late Impression would bring less than
£2. Similarly a Kiyonaga might vary from £40 to £4 on this account. In
the matter of condition there would be parallel differences. A rare
Kiyonaga or Utamaro triptych might vary as follows: Publisher's State,
£200; Collector's State, £100; Good State, £60; Ordinary State, £30;
Defective State, £5. A great Sharaku might, in the same way, be priced
at £100, £70, £50, £20, and £3; and a Harunobu at £60, £50, £20, £8, and
£3. Pillar-prints in perfect preservation are rare; therefore the
differences would be even greater; in the case of an exceptional
Koriusai, perhaps £30, £15, £10, £3, £1.
The following very rough generalizations may suggest something to the
inexperienced collector. Small Primitive sheets in fair condition can
seldom be obtained for less than £5 to £15; the rare large sheets and
Pillar-prints generally bring £20 to £100. These are minimum prices; for
special treasures such as Kwaigetsudō, prices may rise to several
hundred pounds.
Harunobu's work in perfect condition brings from £20 to £100. Shunsho
actors are sometimes to be had very cheap, for a pound or two; but the
finest designs will bring from £10 to £20. Buncho is rare; one may
expect to pay at least £15 to £40 for a fine example. Shunyei and Shunko
are about the same in price as Shunsho. A good Shigemasa is worth £20
to £50.
Kiyonaga is expensive; an attractive small sheet by him will cost £5 to
£15; a fine large sheet, £15 to £40; a triptych brings scores or
hundreds. Shuncho and the other Kiyonaga followers are only a little
less costly. A notable Sharaku is rarely obtainable for less than £40 to
£80. Shunman brings almost as much, as also does Kitao Masanobu.
Small or unimportant sheets by Yeishi, Yeisho, Utamaro, Choki, Toyokuni,
and Toyohiro can be had for a pound or two. From this level, prices go
up to several hundred pounds, which has been paid for Utamaro's "Awabi
Shell-Divers." Triptychs, silver-prints, and large heads by these men
are especially expensive, rising from £20 to much larger sums.
Two to five pounds will buy a fair Hokusai; £20 or more may be asked for
an unusually fine one, and certain rare treasures bring much more than
that. Prices for Hiroshige prints vary so with the quality of the
impression that generalizations are impossible. It can only be said that
the purchaser who gets a Hiroshige of the highest quality for £5 is
fortunate. On the other hand, it must be stated that fine Hiroshige
prints are often obtainable for considerably lower prices than this.
All these prices apply to the best prints in good condition. Dealers
frequently ask unreasonably high sums for second-rate designs or
defective copies; in such cases the collector should refuse to be made a
victim.
Experience alone can dictate to a collector what prices he may
prudently pay. In the most uniformly fine private collection I know--a
collection comprising only one hundred and fifty prints, but each one a
treasure--there are few, if any, sheets that cost less than £5, and many
that cost £20 to £40. Their value ten years from now may very possibly
be ten times those prices, so admirable has been the taste of this
particular amateur in selecting beautifully preserved masterpieces.
These figures need not terrify the beginner whose means are limited.
Specimens of great beauty may still be brought together with a small
expenditure of money, if accompanied by a large expenditure of taste and
judgment. For example, the book-sheets of Harunobu called "Serio Bijin
Awase," the sheets of Shunsho's "Ise Monogatari," the later upright
prints of Hiroshige, the pillar-prints of Koriusai--all of them works of
admirable quality--may sometimes be obtained with only a small outlay.
Their intrinsic proportionate worth, and the certainty of their
advancing in value, are almost as great as in the case of those rarer
treasures of Masanobu, Kiyonaga, and Sharaku which have been largely
pre-empted by the great collections, and which are now almost
prohibitive in price.
Yet it would not be a kindness to hold out to the novice the hope that,
with the expenditure of a few shillings, he can form an important
collection. Such a hope is a mistaken one. Great discretion is necessary
to obtain at a moderate price prints worth having at all. The cheap
prints are generally either the late and crude ones, or the badly
damaged ones. Both of these classes lack the one _raison d'être_ of
collecting--beauty. It is true that, as I have said, a really fine
Hiroshige may still sometimes be picked up for a song, but such
opportunities are rare; they must be waited for a long time, and must be
seized with instant determination when they come. The collector who is
not well informed is more than likely to find, after a short period of
triumph over his bargain, that his copy is a late and poor impression,
and that even the beauty of composition will not permanently satisfy him
in the absence of fine and appropriate printing. In this connection it
should be remembered that while the finest prints are generally more
valuable than their cost, the second-rate prints are generally worth
nothing whatsoever.
If one has adequate experience, one can well hunt for these
opportunities of which I speak. Or if one is unable to pay the normal
prices for fine works, one is obliged to lie in wait for them. The
average collector will, however, find that in the course of years he
gains more by paying normal prices to high-class dealers for the best
prints than by seeking in the byways for dubious bargains of speculative
quality.
It is true that the prices set upon the finest prints are at present
high. Recent years have seen an enormous advance in values. For example,
I have known £300 to be asked for a copy of the "Monkey Bridge"; £60 for
a superb copy of the Kiso Snow Mountains Triptych; and several other
prints by Hiroshige have changed hands at £60 apiece. These prices of
course applied only to remarkably, and perhaps uniquely, fine copies.
In the last edition of his volume, "Japan and its Arts," Mr. Marcus B.
Huish remarks that prints have "risen to extravagant prices--prices
sober-minded people consider altogether beyond their worth." This is a
matter of individual opinion. A good Hiroshige at £5, or a Kiyonaga at
£20 will seem to many people less extravagant than a "proof" mezzotint
by Smith from Reynold's "Mrs. Carnac" at seven hundred guineas, or
Rembrandt's etching of "Jan Six" at £3,000. In fairness to Mr. Huish,
however, we must continue the quotation. "But these prices," he says,
"have been paid by the Directors of Museums and other astute persons who
do not expend the limited means at their disposal unless they feel well
assured that they (the prints) will in the future be either unobtainable
or at enhanced prices." This is quite true. There is no indication that
the values of Japanese prints will ever be lower than they are to-day;
on the contrary, they have been rising swiftly and steadily for twenty
years, and great advances in value may be expected. To these advances
many forces are already contributing. Every year a certain number of
prints are accidentally destroyed, decreasing the total available
supply. No further supplies of large numbers can be expected from Japan,
which has been ransacked with all the thoroughness of skilled searchers
armed with the lure of high prices. In fact, prices in Japan to-day are
probably higher than prices in London; at least, higher prices are asked
for inferior prints. The finest prints bring about the same price
everywhere. Each year the great museums of the world acquire by
purchase or bequest prints which are thus forever removed from the
market. Each year the number of persons who appreciate prints is
growing; and there is a continual increase in the number of wealthy
collectors who can and will pay almost any price to obtain what they
desire. One may be prepared to look back, in twenty years, with mingled
amazement and regret as he contemplates what will then seem the absurdly
low prices asked for the greatest treasures to-day.
Therefore, without serious doubt, the prudent collector will not suffer
because of his present acquisitions. It should, however, always be borne
in mind that the very finest prints--those which seem most expensive
to-day--are the ones that will rise most rapidly in value as time
passes. Poor impressions, soiled copies, and second-rate compositions
will never be very rare; but the supremely fine sheets--scarce enough
now--will grow scarcer with every year.
Nevertheless, collecting as an investment is not advocated. If the
collector is not moved by the delight he gets from the æsthetic
qualities of the prints, he had far better leave them entirely alone.
Nothing but the passion of real enthusiasm and perception will enable
him to select the best works; and without this selection his prints are
not likely to be of much ultimate value. When, however, the collector
makes his acquisitions out of pure love for their beauty, it is right
and prudent that he should consider their value in later years. Such a
collector need have no fear; what was to him a delight and a
dissipation will probably in the end prove to his heirs an investment of
profit.
FORGERIES.
The collector must be constantly on his guard against reprints,
forgeries, and reproductions. These are not as common as some writers
believe; but they exist.
Reprints are impressions made at a time so long after the original
edition that they have not the original colouring. The register of such
prints is generally faulty, and the lines are not sharp. So long as the
blocks are in existence these reprints are possible. Early reprints are
merely late editions of the originals, and are not objectionable if the
blocks have not become worn; but late ones are undesirable. A print made
to-day from the original blocks of Harunobu, did they exist, would have
no value.
Forgeries are works produced in the style and over the signature of some
famous artist. Since they have no prototype among the artist's real
works, they present difficulties of their own; there is no genuine copy
of the same print with which to compare them. They are very rare; their
chief occurrence is in the cases of Harunobu and Utamaro.
Reproductions are prints made from new blocks cut in imitation of the
original ones. For unknown reasons a second edition of certain prints
sometimes was made very shortly after the first, from re-cut blocks.
These prints have no necessary difference in beauty or value from those
of the first edition. But such cases are few. Far commoner are the
reproductions proper--most of them copies made within the last
twenty-five years, sometimes with fraudulent intent, and sometimes
merely as honest commercial copies. In either case, they may be used
fraudulently by a present owner.
The ordinary modern reproduction is not difficult to detect. It is
generally on a harder, brittler paper than a genuine print. The feeling
of the paper between one's fingers is more like that of our
wrapping-paper than like that of the old soft papers used by the Ukioye
artists. Its surface is compact and glassy, not spongy and pliant. It
has a starchy stiffness, and lacks the soft, luminous tone of the
genuine. Generally the lines of the block are clumsily cut, lacking the
grace and strength of the original; and a careful and minute comparison
with an original impression of the same print will invariably show
difference in small details of the lines. Even the Japanese are not
skilful enough to cut a new block precisely like the old one.
The colours of a reproduction constitute perhaps the most definite
danger signal. They are, as a rule, flat and dead, lacking the soft
brilliancy of the old colours. Very seldom are they graded with care--a
repellent harshness marks them. Particularly does the blue lack the life
and depth of the genuine blue; and the red and yellow are likely to be
staring.
Freshness and perfect preservation are never, in the absence of other
signs, to be regarded as evidence of recent production. Conversely, it
is only the merest bungler who regards worm-holes or faded, browned,
and damaged condition as any evidence of age. The Japanese use
tea-leaves and various other devices to give this time-worn appearance
to the most flagrant reproductions. For all I know, they may have
trained worms to eat holes. These damaged, tea-soaked prints would be
almost worthless even if they were genuine. The stray tourist in Japan,
however, customarily accumulates a large number of these soiled tatters,
fearing to touch the fresh-looking copies. And the Japanese willingly
calm his fears by soaking and soiling their reprints.
There are, however, a few reproductions of so fine a quality that
detection is extremely difficult. These are the sheets over which
experts shake their heads and go away muttering, to return for councils
and deliberations and sometimes total disagreement. There exists in an
American collection a certain Kiyonaga print which half a dozen experts
believe to be a modern fraud, though another half-dozen are prepared to
defend its authenticity until Judgment Day. Work of this quality is
expensive to produce, and the price asked for it is therefore always
high.
Certain specific reproductions are to be guarded against. Many
fraudulent copies of Hiroshige's "Monkey Bridge" and "Kiso Snow Gorge"
are on the market; all those I have ever seen are so poor in colour and
so different in line-details that it seems incredible that anyone should
be deceived. Several of the Tokaido Set have been imitated, rather
poorly; and also some of the Birds and Flowers. Quite recently, there
has appeared a remarkable Lake Biwa set, produced with such beauty and
skill that several of the greatest authorities in the world were at
first deceived by it. Hokusai's "Imagery of the Poets," "Waterfalls,"
"Thirty-six Views of Fuji," and "Loocho Islands," have been reprinted;
the colours and the lines are a little imperfect; and no one who uses
care need be misled by them. They are, however, good enough to be
dangerous to the beginner. Utamaro's most famous works, particularly the
"Awabi Shell-Divers" triptych, have been reprinted fairly well. Perilous
imitations of several of the Primitives are extant; the stiff paper is
almost the only means of detection. Sharaku has been reprinted
dangerously well; one lately discovered fraudulent print of his sold for
a high price at Sotheby's some years ago, and subsequently passed
unquestioned through the hands of a dozen English and American experts,
until finally an accidental comparison of it with a genuine sheet
revealed points of difference. Another copy of this same reproduction
remains to this day as the treasured possession of a well-known English
collection.
Possibly the most dangerous of all forgeries and reprints are those of
Harunobu's small square prints, for they have sometimes been produced
with notable skill. Even the greatest experts have been deceived by
them. Fenollosa, at No. 131 of the Ketcham Catalogue, describes in the
most glowing terms, as "the central point of all Ukioye," a print which
its present owner has found to be a reproduction, not thirty years old,
and has discarded from his collection.
The reputable dealers, often men of much experience, never offer
reproductions for sale, though they, like any one else, may
occasionally be deceived by the finest of the fraudulent ones. They use
their best skill to protect their customers, and the protection is
generally efficient. If, however, a dealer is unwilling to give
assurance in writing that the print is genuine, or if his stock contains
more than the two or three reproductions accountable for on the ground
of bad judgment, he should be avoided as untrustworthy.
The experienced collector, who has seen and handled tens of thousands of
prints, becomes accustomed to the texture of the various papers, the
tones of the various colours, and the contours of line-cutting. His
familiarity produces in him a sixth sense which is his instinctive guide
in the detection of frauds. Later investigation may define his original
impression and prove it to have been correct; but in the first instance
he relies on intuition. The less experienced collector has no such
guide; and he should realize that he has not, and not try to evolve one
from his inner consciousness. Nothing is more ludicrous than to see such
a person in a print-shop in Japan. He turns over pile after pile of
prints, selecting those which his judgment tells him are "really old."
What he generally means is, "really dirty." Advice from bystanders is
not often welcomed by him, and the only peaceable thing one can do is to
leave him to his own curious devices. There is a certain malicious
pleasure to be obtained in going through the piles such a collector has
discarded, and selecting from them, as one sometimes can, a flawlessly
preserved copy of some fine print which he passed by as too
fresh-looking to be anything but fraudulent. But when he returns to his
hotel at night and exhibits triumphantly the treasures he has garnered
during the day, it would be a hard heart that could do anything but keep
silent and weep inwardly. The sixth sense can be relied on only if one
has had much experience. If one is inexperienced, the safe way is to ask
expert advice.
For the experienced collector I venture to suggest only one maxim. If
vaguely suspicious of a print, but unable to tell exactly why, discard
the print. Your whole accumulated experience is indefinably expressing
itself in your suspicion; and nine times out of ten it is right.
CARE OF A COLLECTION.
When a print is once properly prepared and mounted, it needs no further
care except protection from injury. Prolonged exposure to sunlight is
not desirable, since fading may result; dampness is to be guarded
against because of the danger of mildew, a terrible foe; care in
handling must be exercised, so that the print be not rubbed, creased, or
torn. But if these elementary precautions are employed, the print will
take care of itself.
It may be worth while for the benefit of the beginner to trace the steps
that are taken by a collector between the time when he becomes the owner
of a new print and the time when he puts it away in his portfolios as an
established part of his collection.
The first step is to examine the print with care and ascertain what, if
any, processes are necessary to prepare it for mounting. If the
condition of the sheet is flawless, nothing is required. If its
condition is in one way or another defective, it is the task of the
collector to determine whether any operation within his command can
remedy the defect, and to decide how he will accomplish his end.
This is perhaps a proper place to caution the inexperienced, and in some
cases even the experienced collector, against acts of vandalism. To cut
down, colour, or otherwise mutilate a print, is one of those
unforgivable offences which often demonstrate conclusively how easy it
is for a fool to destroy in five minutes the achievement of a genius's
lifetime. One well-known collector, now dead, boiled his Harunobus in
paraffin to give them lustre; another painted branches into the
pillar-prints of Koriusai; another cut down the size of his Hiroshiges,
leaving only those portions that particularly pleased him. If the
feelings of later collectors have any potency in heaven, these men are
now in hell. Not only is any attempt to improve upon the artist's work a
contemptible piece of presumption, but even the mere effort to repair
damages inflicted by time may be an unwise venture. Frequently such
injuries could be remedied by an expert were it not that some preceding
bungler, with the best intentions in the world, has, out of sheer
inexperience, made the injuries irreparable. For example, if a print
comes into the expert's hands untouched he can literally slice off a
microscopic layer of the paper and thus remove a bad surface-spot; but
if the paper has been tampered with by ignorant attempts to erase, he
is helpless. Tears, stains, abrasions, and chemical decomposition may
yield to skilful treatment; but unless one knows with the utmost
exactitude what he expects to accomplish and how he intends to proceed
at every step, he had best leave the matter strictly alone, or entrust
it to other hands.
If the collector will remember that, though he is the present owner of
his prints, he is not the final owner, he will be impelled to move with
caution in his handling of them. Long after he is dead and forgotten,
generations of lovers of beauty will treasure the sheets he once owned,
and he will deserve their reproaches or their thanks according to the
respect he has shown for these works. He is custodian for posterity, and
his trust is one worthy of careful thought. He cannot do better than
bear constantly in mind what should be the golden rule for collectors in
all fields: Make no repairs, institute no changes, that cannot be
altered; never do anything to a work of art that cannot be undone by its
next owner.
Trim no margins; it is easy to mat them. Do not try to make more decent
the objectionable rendering of a nude; sell the print to some one who
does not find this rendering objectionable. If the colour has faded out,
do not try to paint it in; possibly some one else may find the mere
black-and-white composition beautiful, and he may prefer to see even the
faded work of Kiyonaga rather than Kiyonaga plus the improvizations of a
doubtless less illustrious designer.
No one needs such cautions as little as do the few experts whose
experience renders them competent to attempt what are almost capital
operations. They are, of all collectors, the most reluctant to essay any
manipulation whatsoever. To witness the repeated examinations and
deliberations which the competent workman expends on so simple a
question as whether or not a certain black spot shall be restored to its
original orange hue is to learn a serious lesson.
The first of the steps to be taken in improving the condition of a print
will generally be washing. If a print is badly wrinkled or creased, or
if it appears to have dust and dirt on its surface, a bath is the best
possible thing for it. A perfectly fresh print should never be washed;
nothing is to be gained by it, and much may be lost. For in many cases a
little of the colour will come out in the course of the process, and the
brilliance of the print will suffer slightly. Certain prints should be
washed only if it is absolutely necessary. Harunobu prints with
transparent red in them, Shuncho's that have purple, and any print that
contains a delicate pigment known to collectors as "surimono blue,"
should be kept out of water if possible. These colours are not fast, and
they are likely to go down in tone, or even run over into the adjoining
parts of the print. The yellows and greens are as a rule unchanging, but
a large number of the other colours are subject to modification,
particularly in the work of the Kiyonaga and Utamaro Periods. The prints
of Hiroshige and Hokusai generally undergo no change.
Prints with silver backgrounds should not be washed, and pillar-prints
that consist of two joined sheets of paper should be kept in water only
long enough to become wet through; longer immersions will cause the
sheets to separate, and necessitate troublesome work in rejoining them.
The process of washing is simple. A large vessel--a prosaic bath-tub is
as good as anything--is filled with luke-warm water, and the print is
put in and allowed to soak for a few minutes. If another sheet of paper
has been pasted on the back of the print, this is carefully peeled off
after the paste has become thoroughly wet. Adhering daubs of paste may
be rubbed off with the fingers. Sometimes a very brown and dirty print
can be cleaned a little by spreading it out while wet on a sheet of
glass and applying a solution of some good washing-soap. Such a
proceeding should be resorted to only in case of extreme dirtiness; and
prolonged soaking in clear water should follow.
When the washing is finished, the print is lifted from the water and
allowed to drain for a few seconds, and is then carefully spread face
downwards on a fresh sheet of heavy unglazed cardboard of the kind known
as "blank." By means of a large damp brush or a delicately handled
cloth, the back of the print is smoothed out so that it lies perfectly
flat and even. Another sheet of cardboard is then placed on top of it,
and the two sheets, with the print between them, are put away under
heavy weights, such as two or three portfolios, and allowed to remain
untouched for twenty-four hours or more. A good deal of dirt, and
unfortunately a little colour, will generally soak out of the print and
into the cardboard. When dry, the print peels neatly away from the
cardboard, with its surface freshened and smoothed, sometimes almost
remade.
Thin, worn, or disintegrated prints are difficult to handle during these
processes; when wet, they tear like damp cigarette-paper. Sometimes
prints that have been damaged and skilfully mended will float away in
two or three pieces upon immersion. These and other possible troubles
make it advisable that the inexperienced collector venture not too
boldly in trying experiments. At least let him begin on prints of no
value.
After the print is dry, worm-holes or tears can be mended either by
patching or inlaying. Generally it is best to dampen the paper before
attempting this. The simplest form of repair is to paste back of the
hole a small piece of paper of the same colour as the print. A collector
will have on hand a number of worthless damaged prints of various
shades, out of which he cuts pieces for this purpose. Inlaying is more
difficult; it involves either inserting a piece of paper cut to match
the hole exactly, or inserting loose paper-pulp which is moulded to fill
the hole. Both processes require more skill than the average collector
can master, and are best left to the expert.
Stains and spots present difficult problems. Some are superficial, and
can be gradually sliced off with a very sharp thin knife--an operation
that will invariably result in the ruin of the print if tried by a
novice. Minute knowledge of the behaviour of the curious fibrous
Japanese paper is necessary for success; the expert generally works
under a glass, and prays continuously while he works. Stains that have
soaked deeply into the paper are almost hopeless. Mildew discoloration
is ineradicable. Grease-spots sometimes yield to ether, benzine, or
other common solvents. The use of these is, however, a desperate remedy;
they may spoil the print even if they remove the spot.
Certain chemical changes in the pigments can be reversed, and the
original colour restored. The blackening of _tan_, that orange pigment
used by Koriusai and many other artists, can be removed and the original
brilliance brought back. The same is true of a certain white that
blackens with time. The processes employed are, however, easily capable
of misuse; and the few persons who know the methods prefer not to make
them public.
If a portion of a print is missing, due to a tear or to the ravages of
moths, it is legitimate and desirable to tint the paper that is used to
fill in the hole so that it matches its surroundings. Water-colours and
a fine brush are employed. But on no account should the surface of the
print itself be painted; if the colour has worn off in spots, any
attempt to restore it will merely increase the damage still further.
A very thin print, or one that has been torn in several places, is best
treated by pasting on the back of it while damp a dampened sheet of
thin, tough Japanese paper. The operation, simple as it sounds, is
difficult and requires practice to produce a smooth result.
Some collectors paste down the four edges of their prints on thin
sheets of cardboard to preserve their flatness. The practice is an
undesirable one; it prevents any examination of the back of the print;
and does not achieve its end, since the print and the mount expand and
contract differently, and wrinkles are almost sure to appear eventually.
The better practice is to apply a mere touch of paste to the two upper
corners of the print, and affix these lightly to the mount. Over this is
then placed a mat, with a hole cut to fit the print exactly, covering
and holding down the print's edges, and protecting it from abrasions.
The size of the mount and mat is determined by individual taste; 3 or 4
inches margin would seem to be the minimum desirable. After many
experiments I have adopted 22½ × 15½ inches as the size for my own
collection. Mr. Gookin prefers 25 × 16; but he also finds 23 × 15½
satisfactory if the economy of space is any object. As to thickness,
tastes also differ; the mount should be at least thick enough not to
bend much with ordinarily careful handling. Heavy Japanese Vellum makes
the best mats; it is expensive, but it greatly enhances the appearance
of the prints.
For triptychs and pillar-prints, a much larger and heavier mount is
required than in the case of ordinary sheets. If the collector has only
a few of the former, he may prefer to mount the three sheets separately,
for convenience in storing, and place the three mounts side by side only
when exhibiting them. If the two end sheets are mounted so that they
come very close to the right and to the left-hand edges of their
respective mounts, the effect of the three assembled is by no means bad;
and the ease of handling them is an advantage. Only the most perfectly
matched triptychs can in any case dispense with the necessity of narrow
strips left in the mat to cover the junction-edges of the sheets.
Some collectors have card-catalogues in which they keep all information
relating to each print. Others use the bottom of the mount under the mat
for that purpose. For a large collection the former is preferable; for a
small one, the latter.
The mounted prints are best kept in portfolios or Solander-boxes, laid
flat on shelves and protected from dust as much as possible. Within the
portfolio or box, the arrangement that is most useful is the
chronological one.
There have been in the past several collections, such as the Hayashi and
Wakai, whose owners felt it to be appropriate that they stamp their
private seals upon the face of each print held by them. It is useless to
comment upon the wisdom or unwisdom of their course; for the thing is
done, and many a fine print is now indelibly branded with these
insignia. But it may be pointed out that the present practice of
reputable collectors does not sanction such acts. Should any collector
who happens to read these lines contemplate thus immortalizing himself,
I suggest that he seriously consider whether even one small seal is not
a disturbing factor when injected into a design so subtly calculated as
the finest prints.
Further, if one collector may so stamp his prints, all others surely
have a similar privilege; and if the habit became universal, what would
be the appearance of a print which, in the next two hundred years,
should pass--as a print might easily pass--through the hands of twenty
collectors? And lastly, is there not a certain betrayal of petty conceit
when the mere temporary owner of a great work of art judges the fact of
his brief ownership to be of such importance that future generations
must be told of it; and so places his own emblem beside that of the
creator of the print--beside the name of the immortal Kiyonaga or
Sharaku?
CONCLUSION.
The day is coming--perhaps it is already here--when the Japanese Print
will become the spiritual possession of a wider circle than that limited
group of collectors who have been devoted to it in the past. Alien
though this art is, it has power to penetrate to regions of the mind
which Western art too often leaves unvisited.
Much is said unwisely about the elevating and educative power of art.
The man in the street has come to believe that the elevating force
resides in the theme which a work of art presents--that a picture of
Galahad riding for the Grail is a lofty thing, and that a picture of the
wings of the theatre during a ballet is a base one. Hence has arisen
that unspeakably childish modern school of middle-class painters whose
"pictures with a story"--generally a sentimental or edifying story--are
the terror of the art-lover. After them, no wonder that even the
Cubists came as a relief.
As every artist knows, the elevating power that resides in the mere
subject of a picture has at best no more force than a moral maxim; the
mind may assent to it, but the heart is unmoved. The same may be said in
the case of a poem. The glory of poetry is not that it furnishes
elevated sentiments in rhyme for public speakers to quote, but that it
embodies music and thought combined in so fitly proportioned and
expressive a structure that the reader carries away with him a certain
acquaintance with perfection and a lasting desire for ideal beauty in
everything.
Thus it is only through its power to cultivate the spectator's sense of
form that art may be called elevating. Close familiarity with the
productions of great artists gradually develops in the spectator an
understanding of proportion, harmony, and conscious design, evoking in
him the ability to perceive and even create order and freedom.
Because of the fact that the best Japanese prints are so superb an
expression of the sense of form, they may be rated high as cultural
agents. In them the eye finds little or no distraction occasioned by
mere subject. Here speak the pure elements of artistic creation,
liberated from combination with elements of accidental and personal
charm. They contain the quintessence of all those harmonious and
significant qualities which men desire of life. He who really takes them
into his consciousness will be repelled by disorder, dullness, and
indeterminateness all his days. And probably the world will be saved by
its hatred of these things. Therefore the Japanese print cannot be
regarded as primarily a pattern for future designers of wood-engraving;
it appears to have a far wider and deeper office to perform.
INDEX
INDEX
Actors, 134, 304, 306
Anchi, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Ando, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Anshin, _see_ Yasunobu
Ashikuni, 356
Ashimaro, 299
Ashiyuki, 356
Banki, 298
Banto, 173
Bokusen, 375
Buddhism, 55
BUNCHO, 185, 209, 426
Bunkaku, _see_ Okumura Masanobu
Bunro, 299
Chikamaro, _see_ Kiosai
Chikanobu, 299
Chikashige, 353
Chincho, 91
Chiryu, 173
CHOKI, 319, 427
Chōshō, _see_ Nagamatsu
Condition, 418
Courtesan, _see_ Yoshiwara
Denroku, 108
Dohan, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Doshin, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Doshu, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Forgeries, 432
Fujinobu, 108, 173
Furuyama, 75
Fusanobu, 108
Fuyo, 299
Gakutei, 374
Gangakusai, 375
Genpachi, _see_ Okumura Masanobu
Genroku Era, 65, 134
Genshichi, 80
Ginsetsu, _see_ Fusanobu
Gogaku, _see_ Gakutei
Gokei, 375
Gokyo, 278
Goshichi, 299
Gosotei, 351, 398
Gyokushi, 157
Hanamaro, 299
Hanzan, 356
Haruhiro, _see_ Koriusai
Haruji, 173
Harumachi, _see_ Utamaro II
Harumitsu, 234
Harunobu, 129, 136, 208, 422, 426
Harushige, 171
Harutoshi, 108
Harutsugu, 173
Hasegawa Toun, 75
Hidemaro, 299
Hirosada, 356
HIROSHIGE I, 357, 375, 415, 426
Hiroshige II, 397
Hiroshige III, 398
Hisanobu, 299
Hōgetsudō, _see_ Okumura Masanobu
Hokkei, 374
Hokuba, 375
Hokuga, 375
Hokuju, 374
Hokumio, 356
HOKUSAI, 258, 379, 427
Hokushu, 356
Hokusui, 375
Hokutai, 375
Hokutei, 375
Hoku-un, 375
Hokuyei, 375
Hokuyo, 375
Hōriu, 173
Isai, 375
Ise Monogatari, 56, 182
Isomaro, 299
Iyeyasu, 49
Juzan, 375
Kagetoshi, 356
Kako, _see_ Hokusai
Kammyō, _see_ Okumura Masanobu
Kanamaro, 299
Kano School, 50, 52, 54
Katsukawa School, 129
Katsumasa (Kichikawa), 95
Katsumasa (Yoshimura), 75
Katsunobu, 95
Keiju, 375
Keisai, _see_ Masayoshi
Keri, 375
Kichi, 75
Kikumaro I, 298
Kikumaro II, 298
Kiosai, 353
Kisen, 173
Kitamaro, 299
Kiyoaki, 92
Kiyofusa, 84, 123, 354
Kiyoharu (Torii), 124
Kiyoharu (Kondo Sukegoro), 92
Kiyohide (Torii), 124
Kiyohide II, 234
Kiyohiro, 123
Kiyohisa, 234
Kiyokatsu, 234
Kiyokuni, 353
Kiyomasa, 234
KIYOMASU, 84, 88
Kiyomine, 84, 123, 354
KIYOMITSU, 84, 116
Kiyomitsu II, _see_ Kiyomine
Kiyomitsu III, _see_ Kiyofusa
Kiyomoto (Torii), 124
Kiyomoto II, 355
KIYONAGA, 84, 217, 241, 259, 405, 426
KIYONOBU I, 83
KIYONOBU II, 87, 90
Kiyonobu (Kondo), 95
Kiyorō, 95
Kiyosada I, 355
Kiyosada II, 354
Kiyosato, 124
Kiyoshige, 91
Kiyosomo, 92
Kiyotada I, 91
Kiyotada II, 355
Kiyotada III, 355
Kiyotomo, 92
Kiyotei, 234
Kiyotoki, 234
Kiyotoshi, 124
Kiyotsugi, 234
Kiyotsune (Torii), 124
Kiyotsune II, 234
Kiyoyasu, 355
Kiyoyuki, 234
Kogan, 173
Kokan, _see_ Shiba Kokan
Komatsuken, 173
KORIUSAI, 157, 159
Kuniaki, 353
Kuniao I, 353
Kuniao II, 353
Kunichika, 353
Kunifusa, 353
Kunihana, 353
Kunihiko, 353
Kunikane I, 353
Kunikane II, 353
Kunihiro, 353
Kunihisa, 353
Kunikatsu, 353
Kunikiyo, 353
Kunimaro, 299
Kunimaru I, 353
Kunimaru II, 353
Kunimasa I, 318, 352
Kunimasa II, _see_ Kunisada II
Kunimasa III, _see_ Kunisada III
Kunimichi I, 353
Kunimichi II, 353
Kunimitsu, 353
Kunimune, 353
Kuninaga, 353
Kuninobu I, 173
Kuninobu II, 353
Kunisada I, 351
Kunisada II, 352
Kunisada III, 352
Kunitada, 353
Kunitaka, 353
Kunitohisa, 353
Kunitaki, 353
Kunitane, 353
Kunitera, 353
Kuniteru, 353
Kunitoki, 353
Kunitora, 353
Kunitsugi I, 353
Kunitsugi II, 353
Kunitsuma, 353
Kuniyasu I, 353
Kuniyasu II, 399
Kuniyoshi, 375
Kuniyuki, 353
Kuzayeimon, 108
KWAIGETSUDŌ, 79
Kyōden, _see_ Kitao Masanobu
Kyosen, 157
Kyuyeimon, 108
Landscape, 356
Magosaburo, _see_ Shigenaga
Mangetsudō, 105
Masafusa, 105
Masanobu (Hishikawa), 75
MASANOBU (Kitao), 248, 427
MASANOBU (Okumura), 95
Masanojo, 75
Masataka, 75
Masayoshi, 250
Masks, 304
Masunobu (Tanaka), 92, 173
Masunobu II, 92, 172
Matabei, 58, 73
Mazunobu, 95
Michimaro, 299
Minemaro, 299
Minko, 173
Mitemaro, 299
Mitsunobu, 95
Morikuni, 75
Morobei, 75
Morofusa, 75
Moromasa, 75
Moromori, 75
Moronaga, 75
MORONOBU, 69
Moroshige, 75
Morotada, 124
Morotane, 75
Morotsugi, 75
Motonobu, 105
Muranobu, 173
Nagahide I, 108
Nagahide II, 328
Nagamatsu, 328
Nagayoshi, _see_ Choki
Nichiren, 58
Niho, 375
Nishimura School, 105
Nō Drama, 303
Norihide, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Norishige, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Noritatsu, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Nudes, 115, 123, 222
Oiran, _see_ Yoshiwara
Omume, 92
Osaka School, 355
Osawa, 75
Otsu-ye, 67
Pillar Prints, 100, 123, 151, 164, 233
Primitives, 63, 127, 207, 426
Polychrome, 140
Printing, 40, 414
Prices, 425
Ranko, 356
Renshi, 375
Rihei, 108
Riusen, 75
Riushu, 75
Rosen, 157
Ryokin, 58
Ryujo, 75
Ryukoku, 299
Ryusai, 375
Ryushi, 173
Sadafusa, 356
Sadaharu, 108
Sadahide, 400
Sadahiro, 356
Sadakage, 356
Sadamasa, 356
Sadamasu, 356
Sadanobu (Hasegawa), 356, 399
Sadanobu (Tamura), 92
Sadatora, 356
Sadatoshi, 95
Sadayoshi, 356
Sanchō, 234
Seiko, 173
Sekicho, 299
Sekiga, 198
Sekiho, 299
Sekijo, 299
Sekiyen, 285, 320
Sekkyo, 299
Sencho, 353
Senga, 157
Senka, 299
Senkwado, _see_ Shigenaga
SHARAKU, 194, 260, 299, 323, 405, 426
Shiba Kokan, 156, 171
Shigefusa, 108
Shigeharu, 108
SHIGEMASA, 182, 199, 201, 426
Shigemasa III, _see_ Yoshimaro I
SHIGENAGA, 105
Shigenobu (Hirose), 108
Shigenobu (Ichiusai), _see_ Hiroshige II
Shigenobu (Kawashima), 75
Shigenobu (Nishimura), 105, 107
Shigenobu (Ryūkwado Ichiichido), 108
Shigenobu (Tsunegawa), 107
Shigenobu (Yamamoto), 108
Shigenobu (Yanagawa), 297, 374
Shigeyama, 375
Shiko, _see_ Choki
Shoha, 173
Shoshin, _see_ Masayoshi
Shikimaro, 298
Shiro, _see_ Kiyonobu II
Shoyu, 198
Shimbei, 75
Shinsai, 375
Shintoku, 299
Shoshoken, _see_ Komatsuken
Shucho, 298
Shuha, _see_ Ishikawa Toyonobu
SHUNCHO (Katsukawa), 237, 427
Shuncho (Koikawa), _see_ Utamaro II
Shunbeni, 353
Shundo, 198
Shunkaku, 198
Shunken,198
Shunki, 198
Shunkio, 198
Shunkiosai, 299
Shunjo, _see_ Shunyei
Shunkō (Harumitsu), _see_ Harumitsu
SHUNKO (Katsukawa), 197, 426
Shunko II, 198, 234
Shunko (Kichosai), 198
Shunkyoku, 198
Shunri, 198
Surimono, 373
Shunrin, 198
SHUNMAN, 246, 427
Shunro, _see_ Hokusai
Shunshi, 356
Shunsei, 198
Shuntei, 198
Shunsen, 399
SHUNSHO (Katsukawa), 134, 174, 186, 193, 199, 201, 208, 426
Shunsho II, 356
Shunsui, 177
Shuntoku, 198
SHUNYEI, 193, 300, 426
Shunyen, 198
Shunzan, 245
Shuseido, 105
Soan, 173
Sobai, 198
Sogaku, 299
Sogiku, 173
Soraku, 279, 299
Sori, _see_ Hokusai
Sugakudo, 353
Suiyo, 173
SUKENOBU, 75
Tadeharu, 95
Taigaku, 375
Taito, _see_ Hokusai and Yanagawa Shigenobu
Takahashi, _see_ Rosen
Takemaro, 298
Tanchosai, _see_ Okumura Masanobu
Tange, 75
Terunobu, 92
Terushige, 92
Theatre, 133, _also see_ Actors
Toban, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Tojin, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Tokugawa Dynasty, 49
Tominobu, 353
Tomofusa, 75
Torii School, 84
Tosa School, 53
Toshimaro, 299
Toshinobu, 104
Toshiyuki, 75
Toshū, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
TOYOHARU, 199, 200
Toun, 75
TOYOHIRO I, 320, 338, 427
Toyohiro II, 353
Toyohisa, 201
Toyokiyo, 353
TOYOKUNI I, 328, 339, 427
Toyokuni II, _see_ Gosotei
Toyokuni III, _see_ Kunisada I
Toyokuni IV, _see_ Kunisada II
Toyokuni V, _see_ Kunisada III
Toyokuma, 124
Toyomaro, 298
Toyomaru, 201
Toyomasu, 124
Toyonaga, 124
TOYONOBU (Ishikawa), 108, 200
Toyonobu (Utagawa), 200
Toyoshige, _see_ Gosotei
Triptych, 230
Tsukimaro (Kitagawa), _see_ Kikumaro I
Tsukimaro (Tanimoto), 298
Tsukioka Tange, 75
Ujimasa, 173
Ukioye School, 54, 65, 70
UTAMARO, 257, 260, 279, 426
Utamaro II, 298
Utagawa School, 200
Wagen, 92
Wowo, 75
Yamamoto School, 108
Yasumichi, 375
Yasunobu, 107
Yasutomo, _see_ Kwaigetsudō
Yeicho, 279
Yeiju, 279
Yeiki, 279
Yeiri (Rekisenti), 279
Yeiri (Yeishi's Pupil), 279
Yeiru, 279
Yeisen, 398
YEISHI, 262, 404, 427
Yeishin, 279
YEISHO, 274, 427
Yeisui, 278
Yeizan, 354
Yencho, 299
Yenkyō, 317
Yenshi, 199
Yoshichika, 353
Yoshifuji, 353
Yoshifusa, 353
Yoshikata, 299
Yoshiharu, 353
Yoshikage, 353
Yoshiku, 356
Yoshiki, 299
Yoshikazu, 353
Yoshikuni, 353
Yoshimaro I, 298
Yoshimaro II, 298
Yoshimori, 299
Yoshimune, 299
Yoshisato, 353
Yoshinobu (Fujikawa), 92
Yoshinobu (Komai), 172, 108
Yoshinobu (Tamura), 92
Yoshinobu (Yamomoto), 108, 172
Yoshitaki, 353
Yoshitomi, 353
Yoshitora, 299
Yoshitoshi, 299
Yoshitsuna, 353
Yoshitsuru, 353
Yoshitsuya, 299
Yoshiyuki, 400
Yoshiume, 353
Yoshiwara, 210, 259, 282, 290
Yumiaki, 299
Yukimaro I, 298
Yukimaro II, 298
Yumisho, 198
* * * * *
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN
BY UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED
PRINTERS, LONDON AND WOKING
End of Project Gutenberg's Chats on Japanese Prints, by Arthur Davison Ficke