Netsuke Carvers.
When Japanese sculpture in wood or ivory is spoken of, the first idea
that presents itself is connected with the netsuke, which, of all the
art objects found in Japan, is perhaps the most essentially Japanese.
If Japan had given us nothing but the netsuke, we should still have no
difficulty in differentiating the bright versatility of her national
genius from the comparatively sombre, mechanic and unimaginative
temperament of the Chinese. But the netsuke may now be said to be a
thing of the past. The _inro_ (medicine-box), which it mainly served
to fix in the girdle, has been driven out of fashion by the new
civilization imported from the West, and artists who would have carved
netsuke in former times now devote their chisels to statuettes and
alcove ornaments. It is not to be inferred, however, though it is a
favourite assertion of collectors, that no good netsuke have been made
in modern times. That theory is based upon the fact that after the
opening of the country to foreign intercourse in 1857, hundreds of
inferior specimens of netsuke were chiselled by inexpert hands,
purchased wholesale by treaty-port merchants, and sent to New York,
London and Paris, where, though they brought profit to the exporter,
they also disgusted the connoisseur and soon earned discredit for
their whole class. But in fact the glyptic artists of Tokyo, Osaka and
Kioto, though they now devote their chisels chiefly to works of more
importance than the netsuke, are in no sense inferior to their
predecessors of feudal days, and many beautiful netsuke bearing their
signatures are in existence. As for the modern ivory statuette or
alcove ornament, of which great numbers are now carved for the foreign
market, it certainly stands on a plane much higher than the netsuke,
since anatomical defects which escape notice in the latter owing to
its diminutive size, become obtrusive in the former.
The Realistic Departure.
One of the most remarkable developments of figure sculpture in modern
Japan was due to Matsumoto Kisaburo (1830-1869). He carved human
figures with as much accuracy as though they were destined for
purposes of surgical demonstration. Considering that this man had
neither art education nor anatomical instruction, and that he never
enjoyed an opportunity of studying from a model in a studio, his
achievements were remarkable. He and the craftsmen of the school he
established completely refute the theory that the anatomical solecisms
commonly seen in the works of Japanese sculptors are due to faulty
observation. Without scientific training of any kind Matsumoto and his
followers produced works in which the eye of science cannot detect any
error. But it is impossible to admit within the circle of high-art
productions these wooden figures of everyday men and women, unrelieved
by any subjective element, and owing their merit entirely to the
fidelity with which their contours are shaped, their muscles modelled,
and their anatomical proportions preserved. They have not even the
attraction of being cleanly sculptured in wood, but are covered with
thinly lacquered muslin, which, though doubtless a good preservative,
accentuates their puppet-like character. Nevertheless, Matsumoto's
figures marked an epoch in Japanese wood sculpture. Their vivid
realism appealed strongly to the taste of the average foreigner. A
considerable school of carvers soon began to work in the Matsumoto
style, and hundreds of their productions have gone to Europe and
America, finding no market in Japan.
The Semi-foreign School.
Midway between the Matsumoto school and the pure style approved by the
native taste in former times stand a number of wood-carvers headed by
Takamura Koun, who occupies in the field of sculpture much the same
place as that held by Hashimoto Gaho in the realm of painting. Koun
carves figures in the round which not only display great power of
chisel and breadth of style, but also tell a story not necessarily
drawn from the motives of the classical school. This departure from
established canons must be traced to the influence of the short-lived
academy of Italian art established by the Japanese government early in
the Meiji era. In the forefront of the new movement are to be found
men like Yoneharu Unkai and Shinkai Taketaro; the former chiselled a
figure of Jenner for the Medical Association of Japan when they
celebrated the centenary of the great physician, and the latter has
carved life-size effigies of two Imperial princes who lost their lives
in the war with China (1894-95). The artists of the Koun school,
however, do much work which appeals to emotions in general rather than
to individual memories. Thus Arakawa Reiun, one of Koun's most
brilliant pupils, has exhibited a figure of a swordsman in the act of
driving home a furious thrust. The weapon is not shown. Reiun
sculptured simply a man poised on the toes of one foot, the other foot
raised, the arm extended, and the body straining forward in strong yet
elastic muscular effort. A more imaginative work by the same artist
is a figure of a farmer who has just shot an eagle that swooped upon
his grandson. The old man holds his bow still raised. Some of the
eagle's feathers, blown to his side, suggest the death of the bird; at
his feet lies the corpse of the little boy, and the horror, grief and
anger that such a tragedy would inspire are depicted with striking
realism in the farmer's face. Such work has very close affinities with
Occidental conceptions. The chief distinguishing feature is that the
glyptic character is preserved at the expense of surface finish. The
undisguised touches of the chisel tell a story of technical force and
directness which could not be suggested by perfectly smooth surfaces.
To subordinate process to result is the European canon; to show the
former without marring the latter is the Japanese ideal. Many of
Koun's sculptures appear unfinished to eyes trained in Occidental
galleries, whereas the Japanese connoisseur detects evidence of a
technical feat in their seeming roughness.
Private Dwellings.
_Architecture._--From the evidence of ancient records it appears that
before the 5th century the Japanese resided in houses of a very rude
character. The sovereign's palace itself was merely a wooden hut. Its
pillars were thrust into the ground and the whole framework--consisting
of posts, beams, rafters, door-posts and window-frames--was tied
together with cords made by twisting the long fibrous stems of climbing
plants. The roof was thatched, and perhaps had a gable at each end with
a hole to allow the smoke of the wood fire to escape. Wooden doors swung
on a kind of hook; the windows were mere holes in the walls. Rugs of
skins or rush matting were used for sitting on, and the whole was
surrounded with a palisade. In the middle of the 5th century
two-storeyed houses seem to have been built, but the evidence on the
subject is slender. In the 8th century, however, when the court was
moved to Nara, the influence of Chinese civilization made itself felt.
Architects, turners, tile-makers, decorative artists and sculptors,
coming from China and from Korea, erected grand temples for the worship
of Buddha enshrining images of much beauty and adorned with paintings
and carvings of considerable merit. The plan of the city itself was
taken from that of the Chinese metropolis. A broad central avenue led
straight to the palace, and on either side of it ran four parallel
streets, crossed at right angles by smaller thoroughfares. During this
century the first sumptuary edict ordered that the dwellings of all high
officials and opulent civilians should have tiled roofs and be coloured
red, the latter injunction being evidently intended to stop the use of
logs carrying their bark. Tiles thenceforth became the orthodox covering
for a roof, but vermilion, being regarded as a religious colour, found
no favour in private dwellings. In the 9th century, after the capital
had been established at Kioto, the palace of the sovereigns and the
mansions of ministers and nobles were built on a scale of unprecedented
grandeur. It is true that all the structures of the time had the defect
of a box-like appearance. Massive, towering roofs, which impart an air
of stateliness even to a wooden building and yet, by their graceful
curves, avoid any suggestion of ponderosity, were still confined to
Buddhist edifices. The architect of private dwellings attached more
importance to satin-surfaced boards and careful joinery than to any
appearance of strength or solidity.
Except for the number of buildings composing it, the palace had little
to distinguish it from a nobleman's mansion. The latter consisted of a
principal hall, where the master of the house lived, ate and slept,
and of three suites of chambers, disposed on the north, the east and
the west of the principal hall. In the northern suite the lady of the
house dwelt, the eastern and western suites being allotted to other
members of the family. Corridors joined the principal hall to the
subordinate edifices, for as yet the idea had not been conceived of
having more than one chamber under the same roof. The principal hall
was usually 42 ft. square. Its centre was occupied by a "parent
chamber," 30 ft. square, around which ran an ambulatory and a veranda,
each 6 ft. wide. The parent chamber and the ambulatory were ceiled,
sometimes with interlacing strips of bark or broad laths, so as to
produce a plaited effect; sometimes with plain boards. The veranda had
no ceiling. Sliding doors, a characteristic feature of modern Japanese
houses, had not yet come into use, and no means were provided for
closing the veranda, but the ambulatory was surrounded by a wall of
latticed timber or plain boards, the lower half of which could be
removed altogether, whereas the upper half, suspended from hooks,
could be swung upward and outward. Privacy was obtained by blinds of
split bamboo, and the parent chamber was separated from the
ambulatory by similar bamboo blinds with silk cords for raising or
lowering them, or by curtains. The thick rectangular mats of uniform
size which, fitting together so as to present a level unbroken
surface, cover the floor of all modern Japanese houses, were not yet
in use: floors were boarded, having only a limited space matted. This
form of mansion underwent little modification until the 12th century,
when the introduction of the Zen sect of Buddhism with its
contemplative practice called for greater privacy. Interiors were then
divided into smaller rooms by means of sliding doors covered with thin
rice-paper, which permitted the passage of light while obstructing
vision; the hanging lattices were replaced by wooden doors which could
be slid along a groove so as to be removable in the daytime, and an
alcove was added in the principal chamber for a sacred picture or
Buddhist image to serve as an object of contemplation for a devotee
while practising the rite of abstraction. Thus the main features of
the Japanese dwelling-house were evolved, and little change took place
subsequently, except that the brush of the painter was freely used for
decorating partitions, and in aristocratic mansions unlimited care was
exercised in the choice of rare woods.
Buddhist Temple Architecture.
The Buddhist temple underwent little change at Japanese hands except in
the matter of decoration. Such as it was in outline when first erected
in accordance with Chinese models, such it virtually remained, though in
later times all the resources of the sculptor and the painter were
employed to beautify it externally and internally.
"The building, sometimes of huge dimensions, is invariably surrounded
by a raised gallery, reached by a flight of steps in the centre of the
approach front, the balustrade of which is a continuation of the
gallery railing. This gallery is sometimes supported upon a deep
system of bracketing, corbelled out from the feet of the main pillars.
Within this raised gallery, which is sheltered by the over-sailing
eaves, there is, in the larger temples, a columned loggia passing
round the two sides and the front of the building, or, in some cases,
placed on the façade only. The ceilings of the loggias are generally
sloping, with richly carved roof-timbers showing below at intervals;
and quaintly carved braces connect the outer pillars with the main
posts of the building. Some temples are to be seen in which the
ceiling of the loggia is boarded flat and decorated with large
paintings of dragons in black and gold. The intercolumniation is
regulated by a standard of about six or seven feet, and the general
result of the treatment of columns, wall-posts, &c., is that the whole
mural space, not filled in with doors or windows, is divided into
regular oblong panels, which sometimes receive plaster, sometimes
boarding and sometimes rich framework and carving or painted panels.
Diagonal bracing or strutting is nowhere to be found, and in many
cases mortises and other joints are such as very materially to weaken
the timbers at their points of connexion. It would seem that only the
immense weight of the roofs and their heavy projections prevent a
collapse of some of these structures in high winds. The principal
façade of the temple is filled in one, two or three compartments with
hinged doors, variously ornamented and folding outwards, sometimes in
double folds. From these doorways, generally left open, the interior
light is principally obtained, windows, as the term is generally
understood, being rare. An elaborate cornice of wooden bracketing
crowns the walls, forming one of the principal ornaments of the
building. The whole disposition of pillars, posts, brackets and
rafters is harmonically arranged according to some measure of the
standard of length. A very important feature of the façade is the
portico or porch-way, which covers the principal steps and is
generally formed by producing the central portion of the main roof
over the steps and supporting such projection upon isolated wooden
pillars braced together near the top with horizontal ties, carved,
moulded and otherwise fantastically decorated. Above these ties are
the cornice brackets and beams, corresponding in general design to the
cornice of the walls, and the intermediate space is filled with open
carvings of dragons or other characteristic designs. The forms of roof
are various, but mostly they commence in a steep slope at the top,
gradually flattening towards the eaves so as to produce a slightly
concave appearance, this concavity being rendered more emphatic by the
tilt which is given to the eaves at the four corners. The appearance
of the ends of the roof is half hip, half gable. Heavy ribs of
tile-cresting with large terminals are carried along the ridge and the
slope of the gable. The result of the whole is very picturesque, and
has the advantage of looking equally satisfactory from any point of
view. The interior arrangement of wall columns, horizontal beams and
cornice bracketing corresponds with that on the outside. The ceiling
is invariably boarded and subdivided by ribs into small rectangular
coffers. Sometimes painting is introduced into these panels and
lacquer and metal clasps are added to the ribs. When the temple is of
very large dimensions an interior peristyle of pillars is introduced
to assist in supporting the roof, and in such cases each pillar
carries profuse bracketing corresponding to that of the cornice. The
construction of the framework of the Japanese roof is such that the
weights all act vertically; there is no thrust on the outer walls,
and every available point of the interior is used as a means of
support.
"The floor is partly boarded and partly matted. The shrines, altars
and oblatory tables are placed at the back in the centre, and there
are often other secondary shrines at the sides. In temples of the best
class the floor of the gallery and of the central portion of the main
building from entrance to altar are richly lacquered; in those of
inferior class they are merely polished by continued rubbing."--(J.
Conder, in the _Proceedings of the Royal Institute of British
Architects._)
Shinto Architecture.
None of the magnificence of the Buddhist temple belongs to the Shinto
shrine. In the case of the latter conservatism has been absolute from
time immemorial. The shrines of Ise, which may be called the Mecca of
Shinto devotees, are believed to present to-day precisely the appearance
they presented in 478, when they were moved thither in obedience to a
revelation from the Sun-goddess. It has been the custom to rebuild them
every twentieth year, alternately on each of two sites set apart for the
purpose, the features of the old edifice being reproduced in the new
with scrupulous accuracy.
They are enlarged replicas of the primeval wooden hut described above,
having rafters with their upper ends crossed; thatched or shingled
roof; boarded floors, and logs laid on the roof-ridge at right angles
for the purpose of binding the ridge and the rafters firmly together.
A thatched roof is imperative in the orthodox shrine, but in modern
days tiles or sheets of copper are sometimes substituted. At Ise,
however, no such novelties are tolerated. The avenue of approach
generally passes under a structure called _torii_. Originally designed
as a perch for fowls which sang to the deities at daybreak, this torii
subsequently came to be erroneously regarded as a gateway
characteristic of the Shinto shrine. It consists of two thick trunks
placed upright, their upper ends mortised into a horizontal log which
projects beyond them at either side. The structure derives some grace
from its extreme simplicity.
_Textile Fabrics and Embroidery._--In no branch of applied art does the
decorative genius of Japan show more attractive results than in that of
textile fabrics, and in none has there been more conspicuous progress
during recent years. Her woven and embroidered stuffs have always been
beautiful; but in former times few pieces of size and splendour were
produced, if we except the curtains used for draping festival cars and
the hangings of temples. Tapestry, as it is employed in Europe, was not
thought of, nor indeed could the small hand-looms of the period be
easily adapted to such work. All that has been changed, however. Arras
of large dimensions, showing remarkable workmanship and grand
combinations of colours, is now manufactured in Kioto, the product of
years of patient toil on the part of weaver and designer alike.
Kawashima of Kioto has acquired high reputation for work of this kind.
He inaugurated the new departure a few years ago by copying a Gobelin,
but it may safely be asserted that no Gobelin will bear comparison with
the pieces now produced in Japan.
The most approved fashion of weaving is called _tsuzure-ori_
(linked-weaving); that is to say, the cross threads are laid in with
the fingers and pushed into their places with a comb by hand, very
little machinery being used. The threads extend only to the outlines
of each figure, and it follows that every part of the pattern has a
rim of minute holes like pierced lines separating postage stamps in a
sheet, the effect being that the design seems to hang suspended in the
ground--linked into it, as the Japanese term implies.[3] A specimen of
this nature recently manufactured by Kawashima's weavers measured 20
ft. by 13, and represented the annual festival at the Nikko mausolea.
The chief shrine was shown, as were also the gate and the long flight
of stone steps leading up to it, several other buildings, the groves
of cryptomeria that surround the mausolea, and the festival
procession. All the architectural and decorative details, all the
carvings and colours, all the accessories--everything was wrought in
silk, and each of the 1500 figures forming the procession wore exactly
appropriate costume. Even this wealth of detail, remarkable as it was,
seemed less surprising than the fact that the weaver had succeeded in
producing the effect of atmosphere and aerial perspective. Through the
graceful cryptomerias distant mountains and the still more distant sky
could be seen, and between the buildings in the foreground and those
in the middle distance atmosphere appeared to be perceptible. Two
years of incessant labour with relays of artisans working steadily
throughout the twenty-four hours were required to finish this piece.
Naturally such specimens are not produced in large numbers. Next in
decorative importance to tsuzure-ori stands _yuzen birôdo_, commonly
known among English-speaking people as cut velvet. Dyeing by the
_yuzen_ process is an innovation of modern times. The design is
painted on the fabric, after which the latter is steamed, and the
picture is ultimately fixed by methods which are kept secret. The soft
silk known as _habutaye_ is a favourite ground for such work, but silk
crape also is largely employed. No other method permits the decorator
to achieve such fidelity and such boldness of draughtsmanship. The
difference between the results of the ordinary and the yuzen processes
of dyeing is, in fact, the difference between a stencilled sketch and
a finished picture. In the case of cut velvet, the yuzen process is
supplemented as follows: The cutter, who works at an ordinary wooden
bench, has no tool except a small sharp chisel with a V-shaped point.
This chisel is passed into an iron pencil having at the end guards,
between which the point of the chisel projects, so that it is
impossible for the user to cut beyond a certain depth. When the velvet
comes to him, it already carries a coloured picture permanently fixed
by the yuzen process, but the wires have not been withdrawn. It is, in
fact, velvet that has passed through all the usual stages of
manufacture except the cutting of the thread along each wire and the
withdrawal of the wires. The cutting artist lays the piece of
unfinished velvet on his bench, and proceeds to carve into the pattern
with his chisel, just as though he were shading the lines of the
design with a steel pencil. When the pattern is lightly traced, he
uses his knife delicately; when the lines are strong and the shadows
heavy, he makes the point pierce deeply. In short, the little chisel
becomes in his fingers a painter's brush, and when it is remembered
that, the basis upon which he works being simply a thread of silk, his
hand must be trained to such delicacy of muscular effort as to be
capable of arresting the edge of the knife at varying depths within
the diameter of the tiny filament, the difficulty of the achievement
will be understood. Of course it is to be noted that the edge of the
cutting tool is never allowed to trespass upon a line which the
exigencies of the design require to be solid. The veining of a cherry
petal, for example, the tessellation of a carp's scales, the serration
of a leaf's edge--all these lines remain intact, spared by the
cutter's tool, while the leaf itself, or the petal, or the scales of
the fish, have the threads forming them cut so as to show the velvet
nap and to appear in soft, low relief. In one variety of this fabric,
a slip of gold foil is laid under each wire, and left in position
after the wire is withdrawn, the cutting tool being then used with
freedom in some parts of the design, so that the gold gleams through
the severed thread, producing a rich and suggestive effect. Velvet,
however, is not capable of being made the basis for pictures so
elaborate and microscopically accurate as those produced by the yuzen
process on silk crape or habutaye. The rich-toned, soft plumage of
birds or the magnificent blending of colours in a bunch of peonies or
chrysanthemums cannot be obtained with absolute fidelity on the ribbed
surface of velvet.
Embroidery.
The embroiderer's craft has been followed for centuries in Japan with
eminent success, but whereas it formerly ranked with dyeing and weaving,
it has now come to be regarded as an art. Formerly the embroiderer was
content to produce a pattern with his needle, now he paints a picture. So
perfectly does the modern Japanese embroiderer elaborate his scheme of
values that all the essential elements of pictorial effects--chiaroscuro,
aerial perspective and atmosphere are present in his work. Thus a
graceful and realistic school has replaced the comparatively stiff and
conventional style of former times.
Further, an improvement of a technical character was recently made,
which has the effect of adding greatly to the durability of these
embroideries. Owing to the use of paper among the threads of the
embroidery and sizing in the preparation of the stuff forming the
ground, every operation of folding used to cause perceptible injury to
a piece, so that after a few years it acquired a crumpled and dingy
appearance. But by the new method embroiderers now succeed in
producing fabrics which defy all destructive influences--except, of
course, dirt and decay.
Early Period.
_Ceramics._--All research proves that up to the 12th century of the
Christian era the ceramic ware produced in Japan was of a very rude
character. The interest attaching to it is historical rather than
technical. Pottery was certainly manufactured from an early date, and
there is evidence that kilns existed in some fifteen provinces in the
10th century. But although the use of the potter's wheel had long been
understood, the objects produced were simple utensils to contain
offerings of rice, fruit and fish at the austere ceremonials of the
Shinto faith, jars for storing seeds, and vessels for common domestic
use. In the 13th century, however, the introduction of tea from China,
together with vessels for infusing and serving it, revealed to the
Japanese a new conception of ceramic possibilities, for the potters of
the Middle Kingdom had then (Sung dynasty) fully entered the road which
was destined to carry them ultimately to a high pinnacle of their craft.
It had long been customary in Japan to send students to China for the
purpose of studying philosophy and religion, and she now (1223) sent a
potter, Kato Shirozaemon, who, on his return, opened a kiln at Seto in
the province of Owari, and began to produce little jars for preserving
tea and cups for drinking it. These were conspicuously superior to
anything previously manufactured. Kato is regarded as the father of
Japanese ceramics. But the ware produced by him and his successors at
the Seto kilns, or by their contemporaries in other parts of the
country, had no valid claim to decorative excellence. Nearly three
centuries elapsed before a radically upward movement took place, and on
this occasion also the inspiration came from China. In 1520 a potter
named Gorodayu Goshonzui (known to posterity as Shonzui) made his way to
Fuchow and thence to King-te-chen, where, after five years' study, he
acquired the art of manufacturing porcelain, as distinguished from
pottery, together with the art of applying decoration in blue under the
glaze. He established his kiln at Arita in Hizen, and the event marked
the opening of the second epoch of Japanese ceramics. Yet the new
departure then made did not lead far. The existence of porcelain clay in
Hizen was not discovered for many years, and Shonzui's pieces being made
entirely with kaolin imported from China, their manufacture ceased after
his death, though knowledge of the processes learned by him survived and
was used in the production of greatly inferior wares. The third clearly
differentiated epoch was inaugurated by the discovery of true kaolin at
Izumi-yama in Hizen, the discoverer being one of the Korean potters who
came to Japan in the train of Hideyoshi's generals returning from the
invasion of Korea, and the date of the discovery being about 1605. Thus
much premised, it becomes possible to speak in detail of the various
wares for which Japan became famous.
The principal kinds of ware are Hizen, Kioto, Satsuma, Kutani, Owari,
Bizen, Takatori, Banko, Izumo and Yatsushiro.
Hizen.
There are three chief varieties of Hizen ware, namely, (1) the
enamelled porcelain of Arita--the "old Japan" of European collectors;
(2) the enamelled porcelain of Nabeshima; and (3) the blue and white,
or plain white, porcelain of Hirado. The earliest manufacture of
porcelain--as distinguished from pottery--began in the opening years
of the 16th century, but its materials were exotic. Genuine Japanese
porcelain dates from about a century later. The decoration was
confined to blue under the glaze, and as an object of art the ware
possessed no special merit. Not until the year 1620 do we find any
evidence of the style for which Arita porcelain afterwards became
famous, namely, decoration with vitrifiable enamels. The first efforts
in this direction were comparatively crude; but before the middle of
the 17th century, two experts--Goroshichi and Kakiemon--carried the
art to a point of considerable excellence. From that time forward the
Arita factories turned out large quantities of porcelain profusely
decorated with blue under the glaze and coloured enamels over it. Many
pieces were exported by the Dutch, and some also were specially
manufactured to their order. Specimens of the latter are still
preserved in European collections, where they are classed as genuine
examples of Japanese ceramic art, though beyond question their style
of decoration was greatly influenced by Dutch interference. The
porcelains of Arita were carried to the neighbouring town of Imari for
sale and shipment. Hence the ware came to be known to Japanese and
foreigners alike as _Imari-yaki_ (_yaki_ = anything baked; hence
ware).
Nabeshima.
The Nabeshima porcelain--so called because of its production at
private factories under the special patronage of Nabeshima Naoshige,
feudal chief of Hizen--was produced at Okawachiyama. It differed from
Imari-yaki in the milky whiteness and softness of its glaze, the
comparative sparseness of its enamelled decoration, and the relegation
of blue _sous couverte_ to an entirely secondary place. This is
undoubtedly the finest jewelled porcelain in Japan; the best examples
leave nothing to be desired. The factory's period of excellence began
about the year 1680, and culminated at the close of the 18th century.
Hirado.
The Hirado porcelain--so called because it enjoyed the special
patronage of Matsuura, feudal chief of Hirado--was produced at
Mikawa-uchi-yama, but did not attain excellence until the middle of
the 18th century, from which time until about 1830 specimens of rare
beauty were produced. They were decorated with blue under the glaze,
but some were pure white with exquisitely chiselled designs incised or
in relief. The production was always scanty, and, owing to official
prohibitions, the ware did not find its way into the general market.
Kioto.
The history of Kioto ware--which, being for the most part faience,
belongs to an entirely different category from the Hizen porcelains
spoken of above--is the history of individual ceramists rather than of
special manufactures. Speaking broadly, however, four different
varieties are usually distinguished. They are _raku-yaki_,
_awata-yaki_, _iwakura-yaki_ and _kiyomizu-yaki_.
Raku.
Raku-yaki is essentially the domestic faience of Japan; for, being
entirely hand-made and fired at a very low temperature, its
manufacture offers few difficulties, and has consequently been carried
on by amateurs in their own homes at various places throughout the
country. The raku-yaki of Kioto is the parent of all the rest. It was
first produced by a Korean who emigrated to Japan in the early part of
the 16th century. But the term _raku-yaki_ did not come into use until
the close of the century, when Chojiro (artistic name, Choryu)
received from Hideyoshi (the Taiko) a seal bearing the ideograph
_raku_, with which he thenceforth stamped his productions. Thirteen
generations of the same family carried on the work, each using a stamp
with the same ideograph, its calligraphy, however, differing
sufficiently to be identified by connoisseurs. The faience is thick
and clumsy, having soft, brittle and very light _pâte_. The staple
type has black glaze showing little lustre, and in choice varieties
this is curiously speckled and pitted with red. Salmon-coloured, red,
yellow and white glazes are also found, and in late specimens gilding
was added. The raku faience owed much of its popularity to the
patronage of the tea clubs. The nature of its paste and glaze adapted
it for the infusion of powdered tea, and its homely character suited
the austere canons of the tea ceremonies.
Awata.
Awata-yaki is the best known among the ceramic productions of Kioto.
There is evidence to show that the art of decoration with enamels over
the glaze reached Kioto from Hizen in the middle of the 17th century.
Just at that time there flourished in the Western capital a potter of
remarkable ability, called Nomura Seisuke. He immediately utilized the
new method, and produced many beautiful examples of jewelled faience,
having close, hard _pâte_, yellowish-white, or brownish-white, glaze
covered with a network of fine crackle, and sparse decoration in pure
full-bodied colours--red, green, gold and silver. He worked chiefly at
Awata, and thus brought that factory into prominence. Nomura Seisuke,
or Ninsei as he is commonly called, was one of Japan's greatest
ceramists. Genuine examples of his faience have always been highly
prized, and numerous imitations were subsequently produced, all
stamped with the ideograph Ninsei. After Ninsei's time, the most
renowned ceramists of the Awata factories were Kenzan (1688-1740);
Ebisei, a contemporary of Kenzan; Dohachi (1751-1763), who
subsequently moved to Kiyomizu-zaka, another part of Kioto, the
faience of which constitutes the Kiyomizu-yaki mentioned above;
Kinkozan (1745-1760); Hozan (1690-1721); Taizan (1760-1800); Bizan
(1810-1838); and Tanzan, who was still living in 1909. It must be
noted that several of these names, as Kenzan, Dohachi, Kinkozan, Hozan
and Taizan, were not limited to one artist. They are family names, and
though the dates we have given indicate the eras of the most noted
ceramists in each family, amateurs must not draw any chronological
conclusion from the mere fact that a specimen bears such and such a
name.
Iwakura.
The origin of the Iwakura-yaki is somewhat obscure, and its history,
at an early date, becomes confused with that of the Awata yaki, from
which, indeed, it does not materially differ.
Kiyomizu.
In the term Kiyomizu-yaki may be included roughly all the faience of
Kioto, with the exception of the three varieties described above. The
distinction between Kiyomizu, Awata and Iwakura is primarily local.
They are parts of the same city, and if their names have been used to
designate particular classes of pottery, it is not because the
technical or decorative features of each class distinguish it from the
other two, but chiefly for the purpose of identifying the place of
production. On the slopes called Kiyomizu-zaka and Gojo-zaka lived a
number of ceramists, all following virtually the same models with
variations due to individual genius. The principal Kiyomizu artists
were: Ebisei, who moved from Awata to Gojo-zaka in 1688; Eisen and
Rokubei, pupils of Ebisei; Mokubei, a pupil of Eisen, but more
celebrated than his master; Shuhei (1790-1810), Kentei (1782-1820),
and Zengoro Hozen, generally known as Eiraku (1790-1850). Eisen was
the first to manufacture porcelain (as distinguished from faience) in
Kioto, and this branch of the art was carried to a high standard of
excellence by Eiraku, whose speciality was a rich coral-red glaze with
finely executed decoration in gold. The latter ceramist excelled also
in the production of purple, green and yellow glazes, which he
combined with admirable skill and taste. Some choice ware of the
latter type was manufactured by him in Kishu, by order of the feudal
chief of that province. It is known as _Kaira-ku-yen-yaki_ (ware of
the Kairaku park).
[Illustration: PLATE VIII. POTTERY AND PORCELAIN
FIG. 23.--TEA BOWL. By Kenzan.
FIG. 24.--TEA JAR. By Ninsei.
FIG. 25.--FIGURE. By Kakiemon. Arita porcelain.
FIG. 26.--LION. By Chojiro Raku.
FIG. 27.--CENSER, WITH KOCHI GLAZE. By Eisen.
FIG. 28.--TEA JAR. By Ninsei.