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Chapter 7 Lab
Arrays
Lab Objectives
Be able to declare and instantiate arrays
Be able to fill an array using a for loop
Be able to access and process data in an array
Be able to write a sorting method
Be able to use an array of objects
Introduction
Everyone is familiar with a list. We make shopping lists, to-do lists, assignment lists,
birthday lists, etc. Notice that though there may be many items on the list, we call the list
by one name. That is the idea of the array, one name for a list of related items. In this
lab, we will work with lists in the form of an array.
It will start out simple with a list of numbers. We will learn how to process the contents
of an array. We will also explore sorting algorithms, using the selection sort. We will
then move onto more complicated arrays, arrays that contain objects.
Average
-data [ ] :int
-mean: double
+Average( ):
+calculateMean( ): void
+toString( ): String
+selectionSort( ): void
This class will allow a user to enter 5 scores into an array. It will then rearrange the data
in descending order and calculate the mean for the data set.
Attributes:
data[]— the array which will contain the scores
mean — the arithmetic average of the scores
Methods:
Average –the constructor. It will allocate memory for the array. Use a for loop
to repeatedly display a prompt for the user which should indicate that user should
34
©2013 Pearson Education, Inc. Upper Saddle River, NJ. All Rights Reserved.
enter score number 1, score number 2, etc. Note: The computer starts counting
with 0, but people start counting with 1, and your prompt should account for this.
For example, when the user enters score number 1, it will be stored in indexed
variable 0. The constructor will then call the selectionSort and the
calculateMean methods.
calculateMean – this is a method that uses a for loop to access each score in
the array and add it to a running total. The total divided by the number of scores
(use the length of the array), and the result is stored into mean.
toString— returns a String containing data in descending order and the mean.
selectionSort—this method uses the selection sort algorithm to rearrange
the data set from highest to lowest.
2. Compile, debug, and run the program. It should output the data set from highest
to lowest and the mean. Compare the computer’s output to your hand calculation
using a calculator. If they are not the same, do not continue until you correct your
code.
35
©2013 Pearson Education, Inc. Upper Saddle River, NJ. All Rights Reserved.
Code Listing 7.1 (Song.java)
/*This program represents a song*/
public class Song
{
/**The title of the song*/
private String title;
/**The artist who sings the song*/
private String artist;
/**constructor
@param title The title of the song
@param artist The artist who sings the song*/
public Song(String title, String artist)
{
this.title = title;
this.artist = artist;
}
36
©2013 Pearson Education, Inc. Upper Saddle River, NJ. All Rights Reserved.
artist = input.readLine();
// fill the array by creating a new song with
// the title and artist and storing it in the
// appropriate position in the array
}
System.out.println("Contents of Classics:");
for (int i = 0; i < cd.length; i++)
{
//print the contents of the array to the console
}
}
}
37
©2013 Pearson Education, Inc. Upper Saddle River, NJ. All Rights Reserved.
Other documents randomly have
different content
Fig. 10.—PEACOCKS. By Ganku (1749-1838).
Sculpture and Carving.—Sculpture in wood and metal is of ancient date in Japan. Its
antiquity is not, indeed, comparable to that of ancient Egypt or Greece, but no country besides
Japan can boast a living and highly developed art that has numbered
Historical upwards of twelve centuries of unbroken and brilliant productiveness.
Sketch. Setting aside rude prehistoric essays in stone and metal, which have special
interest for the antiquary, we have examples of sculpture in wood and
metal, magnificent in conception and technique, dating from the earliest periods of what we
may term historical Japan; that is, from near the beginning of the great Buddhist propaganda
under the emperor Kimmei (540-571) and the princely hierarch, Shōtoku Taishi (573-621).
Stone has never been in favour in Japan as a material for the higher expression of the
sculptor’s art.
The first historical period of glyptic art in Japan reaches from the end of the 6th to the end
of the 12th century, culminating in the work of the great Nara sculptors,
First Period. Unkei and his pupil Kwaikei. Happily, there are still preserved in the great
temples of Japan, chiefly in the ancient capital of Nara, many noble relics of
this period.
The place of honour may perhaps be conferred upon sculptures in wood, representing the
Indian Buddhists, Asangha and Vasabandhu, preserved in the Golden Hall of Kofuku-ji, Nara.
These are attributed to a Kamakura sculptor of the 8th or 9th century, and in simple and
realistic dignity of pose and grand lines of composition are worthy of comparison with the
works of ancient Greece. With these may be named the demon lantern-bearers, so perfect in
the grotesque treatment of the diabolical heads and the accurate anatomical forms of the
sturdy body and limbs; the colossal temple guardians of the great gate of Tōdai-ji, by Unkei
and Kwaikei (11th century), somewhat conventionalized, but still bearing evidence of direct
study from nature, and inspired with intense energy of action; and the smaller but more
accurately modelled temple guardians in the Saikondo, Nara, which almost compare with the
“fighting gladiator” in their realization of menacing strength. The “goddess of art” of Akishino-
dera, Nara, attributed to the 8th century, is the most graceful and least conventional of female
sculptures in Japan, but infinitely remote from the feminine conception of the Greeks. The
wooden portrait of Vimalakirtti, attributed to Unkei, at Kofuku-ji, has some of the qualities of
the images of the two Indian Buddhists. The sculptures attributed to Jōchō, the founder of the
Nara school, although powerful in pose and masterly in execution, lack the truth of observation
seen in some of the earlier and later masterpieces.
The most perfect of the ancient bronzes is the great image of Bhaicha-djyaguru in the
temple of Yakushi-ji, Nara, attributed to a Korean monk of the 7th century, named Giōgi. The
bronze image of the same divinity at Hōryū-ji, said to have been cast at the beginning of the
7th century by Tori Busshi, the grandson of a Chinese immigrant, is of good technical quality,
but much inferior in design to the former. The colossal Nara Daibutsu (Vairocana) at Tōdai-ji,
cast in 749 by a workman of Korean descent, is the largest of the great bronzes in Japan, but
ranks far below the Yakushi-ji image in artistic qualities. The present head, however, is a later
substitute for the original, which was destroyed by fire.
The great Nara school of sculpture in wood was founded in the early part of the 11th
century by a sculptor of Imperial descent named Jōchō, who is said to have modelled his style
upon that of the Chinese wood-carvers of the Tang dynasty; his traditions were maintained by
descendants and followers down to the beginning of the 13th century. All the artists of this
period were men of aristocratic rank and origin, and were held distinct from the carpenter-
architects of the imposing temples which were to contain their works.
Sacred images were not the only specimens of glyptic art produced in these six centuries;
reliquaries, bells, vases, incense-burners, candlesticks, lanterns, decorated arms and armour,
and many other objects, showing no less mastery of design and execution, have reached us.
Gold and silver had been applied to the adornment of helmets and breastplates from the 7th
century, but it was in the 12th century that the decoration reached the high degree of
elaboration shown us in the armour of the Japanese Bayard, Yoshitsunē, which is still
preserved at Kasuga, Nara.
Wooden masks employed in the ancient theatrical performances were made from the 7th
century, and offer a distinct and often grotesque phase of wood-carving. Several families of
experts have been associated with this class of sculpture, and their designs have been
carefully preserved and imitated down to the present day.
The second period in Japanese glyptic art extends from the beginning of the 13th to the
early part of the 17th century. The great struggle between the Taira and Minamoto clans had
ended, but the militant spirit was still strong, and brought work for the
Second Period. artists who made and ornamented arms and armour. The Miyōchins, a line
that claimed ancestry from the 7th century, were at the head of their
calling, and their work in iron breastplates and helmets, chiefly in repoussé, is still unrivalled.
It was not until the latter half of the 15th century that there came into vogue the elaborate
decoration of the sword, a fashion that was to last four hundred years.
The metal guard (tsuba), made of iron or precious alloy, was adorned with engraved
designs, often inlaid with gold and silver. The free end of the hilt was crowned with a metallic
cap or pommel (kashira), the other extremity next the tsuba was embraced by an oval ring
(fuchi), and in the middle was affixed on each side a special ornament called the menuki, all
adapted in material and workmanship to harmonize with the guard. The kodzuka, or handle of
a little knife implanted into the sheath of the short sword or dagger, was also of metal and
engraved with like care. The founder of the first great line of tsuba and menuki artists was
Gotō Yūjō (1440-1512), a friend of the painter Kano Motonobu, whose designs he adopted.
Many families of sword artists sprang up at a later period, furnishing treasures for the collector
even down to the present day, and their labours reached a level of technical mastery and
refined artistic judgment almost without parallel in the art industries of Europe. Buddhist
sculpture was by no means neglected during this period, but there are few works that call for
special notice. The most noteworthy effort was the casting by Ono Goroyémon in 1252 of the
well-known bronze image, the Kamakura Daibutsu.
The third period includes the 17th, 18th and the greater part of the 19th centuries. It was
the era of the artisan artist. The makers of Buddhist images and of sword ornaments carried
on their work with undiminished industry and success, and some famous
Third Period. schools of the latter arose during this period. The Buddhist sculptors,
however, tended to grow more conventional and the metal-workers more
naturalistic as the 18th century began to wane. It was in connexion with architecture that the
great artisan movement began. The initiator was Hidari Jingoro (1594-1652), at first a simple
carpenter, afterwards one of the most famous sculptors in the land of great artists. The
gorgeous decoration of the mausoleum of Iyeyasu at Nikkō, and of the gateway of the Nishi
Hongwan temple at Kiōto, are the most striking instances of his handiwork or direction.
The pillars, architraves, ceilings, panels, and almost every available part of the structure, are
covered with arabesques and sculptured figures of dragons, lions, tigers, birds, flowers, and
even pictorial compositions with landscapes and figures, deeply carved in solid or open work—
the wood sometimes plain, sometimes overlaid with pigment and gilding, as in the panelled
ceiling of the chapel of Iyeyasu in Tōkyō. The designs for these decorations, like those of the
sword ornaments, were adopted from the great schools of painting, but the invention of the
sculptor was by no means idle. From this time the temple carvers, although still attached to
the carpenters’ guild, took a place apart from the rest of their craft, and the genius of Hidari
Jingoro secured for one important section of the artisan world a recognition like that which
Hishigawa Moronobu, the painter and book-illustrator, afterwards won for another.
A little later arose another art industry, also emanating from the masses. The use of
tobacco, which became prevalent in the 17th century, necessitated the pouch. In order to
suspend this from the girdle there was employed a kind of button or toggle—the netsuke. The
metallic bowl and mouthpiece of the pipe offered a tempting surface for embellishment, as
well as the clasp of the pouch; and the netsuke, being made of wood, ivory or other material
susceptible of carving, also gave occasion for art and ingenuity.
The engravers of pipes, pouch clasps, and the metallic discs (kagami-buta) attached to
certain netsuke, sprang from the same class and were not less original. They worked, too, with
a skill little inferior to that of the Gotōs, Naras, and other aristocratic sculptors of sword
ornaments, and often with a refinement which their relative disadvantages in education and
associations render especially remarkable. The netsuke and the pipe, with all that pertained to
it, were for the commoners what the sword-hilt and guard were for the gentry. Neither class
cared to bestow jewels upon their persons, but neither spared thought or expense in the
embellishment of the object they most loved. The final manifestation of popular glyptic art was
the okimono, an ornament pure and simple, in which utility was altogether secondary in
intention to decorative effect. Its manufacture as a special branch of art work dates from the
rise of the naturalistic school of painting and the great expansion of the popular school under
the Katsugawa, but the okimono formed an occasional amusement of the older glyptic artists.
Some of the most exquisite and most ingenious of these earlier productions, such as the
magnificent iron eagle in the South Kensington Museum, the wonderful articulated models of
crayfish, dragons, serpents, birds, that are found in many European collections, came from the
studios of the Miyōchins; but these were the play of giants, and were not made as articles of
commerce. The new artisan makers of the okimono struck out a line for themselves, one
influenced more by the naturalistic and popular schools than by the classical art, and the quails
of Kamejo, the tortoises of Seimin, the dragons of Tōun and Tōryū, and in recent years the
falcons and the peacocks of Suzuki Chokichi, are the joy of the European collector. The best of
these are exquisite in workmanship, graceful in design, often strikingly original in conception,
and usually naturalistic in ideal. They constitute a phase of art in which Japan has few rivals.
The present generation is more systematically commercial in its glyptic produce than any
previous age. Millions of commercial articles in metal-work, wood and ivory flood the European
markets, and may be bought in any street in Europe at a small price, but they offer a variety of
design and an excellence of workmanship which place them almost beyond Western
competition. Above all this, however, the Japanese sculptor is a force in art. He is nearly as
thorough as his forefathers, and maintains the same love of all things beautiful; and if he
cannot show any epoch-making novelty, he is at any rate doing his best to support
unsurpassed the decorative traditions of the past.
History has been eminently careful to preserve the names and records of the men who
chiselled sword furniture. The sword being regarded as the soul of the samurai, every one who
contributed to its manufacture, whether as forger of the blade or sculptor of
Sword-making the furniture, was held in high repute. The Gotō family worked steadily
Families. during 14 generations, and its 19th century representative—Gotō Ichijō—
will always be remembered as one of the family’s greatest experts. But
there were many others whose productions fully equalled and often excelled the best efforts of
the Gotō. The following list gives the names and periods of the most renowned families:—
(It should be noted that the division by centuries indicates the time of a family’s origin. In a great
majority of cases the representatives of each generation worked on through succeeding centuries).
17th Century.
18th Century.
Gorobei; Shōemon; Kikugawa; Yasuyama; Noda; Tamagawa; Fujita; Kikuoka; Kizaemon; Hamano;
Ōmori; Okamoto; Kashiwaya; Kusakari; Shichibei; Itō.
19th Century.
Natsuo; Ishiguro; Yanagawa; Honjo; Tanaka; Okano; Kawarabayashi; Oda; and many masters of
the Ōmori, Hamano and Iwamoto families, as well as the five experts, Shuraku, Temmin, Ryūmin,
Minjō and Minkoku.
(W. An.; F. By.)
There is a radical difference between the points of view of the Japanese and the Western
connoisseur in estimating the merits of sculpture in metal. The quality of the chiselling is the first
feature to which the Japanese directs his attention; the decorative design is the
Japanese Point prime object of the Occidental’s attention. With very rare exceptions, the
of View. decorative motives of Japanese sword furniture were always supplied by painters.
Hence it is that the Japanese connoisseur draws a clear distinction between the
decorative design and its technical execution, crediting the former to the pictorial artist and the latter
to the sculptor. He detects in the stroke of a chisel and the lines of a graving tool subjective beauties
which appear to be hidden from the great majority of Western dilettanti. He estimates the rank of a
specimen by the quality of the chisel-work. The Japanese kinzoku-shi (metal sculptor) uses thirty-six
principal classes of chisel, each with its distinctive name, and as most of these classes comprise from
five to ten sub-varieties, his cutting and graving tools aggregate about two hundred and fifty.
Scarcely less important in Japanese eyes than the chiselling of the decorative design itself is the
preparation of the field to which it is applied. There used to be a strict canon with
The Field for reference to this in former times. Namako (fish-roe) grounds were essential for
Sculptured the mountings of swords worn on ceremonial occasions, the ishime (stone-pitting)
Decoration. or jimigaki (polished) styles being considered less aristocratic.
Namako is obtained by punching the whole surface—except the portion carrying the decorative
design—into a texture of microscopic dots. The first makers of namako did not aim at regularity in
the distribution of these dots; they were content to produce the effect of millet-seed sifted
haphazard over the surface. But from the 15th century the punching of the dots in rigidly straight
lines came to be considered essential, and the difficulty involved was so great that namako-making
took its place among the highest technical achievements of the sculptor. When it is remembered that
the punching tool was guided solely by the hand and eye, and that three or more blows of the mallet
had to be struck for every dot, some conception may be formed of the patience and accuracy
needed to produce these tiny protuberances in perfectly straight lines, at exactly equal intervals and
of absolutely uniform size. Namako disposed in straight parallel lines originally ranked at the head of
this kind of work. But a new kind was introduced in the 16th century. It was obtained by punching
the dots in intersecting lines, so arranged that the dots fell uniformly into diamond-shaped groups of
five each. This is called go-no-me-namako, because of its resemblance to the disposition of chequers
in the Japanese game of go. A century later, the daimyō namako was invented, in which lines of dots
alternated with lines of polished ground. Ishime may be briefly described as diapering. There is
scarcely any limit to the ingenuity and skill of the Japanese expert in diapering a metal surface. It is
not possible to enumerate here even the principal styles of ishime, but mention may be made of the
zara-maki (broad-cast), in which the surface is finely but irregularly pitted after the manner of the
face of a stone; the nashi-ji (pear-ground), in which we have a surface like the rind of a pear; the
hari-ishime (needle ishime), where the indentations are so minute that they seem to have been
made with the point of a needle; the gama-ishime, which is intended to imitate the skin of a toad;
the tsuya-ishime, produced with a chisel sharpened so that its traces have a lustrous appearance;
the ore-kuchi (broken-tool), a peculiar kind obtained with a jagged tool; and the gozamé, which
resembles the plaited surface of a fine straw mat.
Great importance has always been attached by Japanese experts to the patina of metal used for
artistic chiselling. It was mainly for the sake of their patina that value attached to the remarkable
alloys shakudo (3 parts of gold to 97 of copper) and shibuichi (1 part of silver to 3
Patina. of copper). Neither metal, when it emerges from the furnace, has any beauty,
shakudo being simply dark-coloured copper and shibuichi pale gun-metal. But
after proper treatment2 the former develops a glossy black patina with violet sheen, and the latter
shows beautiful shades of grey with silvery lustre. Both these compounds afford delicate,
unobtrusive and effective grounds for inlaying with gold, silver and other metals, as well as for
sculpture, whether incised or in relief. Copper, too, by patina-producing treatment, is made to show
not merely a rich golden sheen with pleasing limpidity, but also red of various hues, from deep coral
to light vermilion, several shades of grey, and browns of numerous tones from dead-leaf to
chocolate. Even greater value has always been set upon the patina of iron, and many secret recipes
were preserved in artist families for producing the fine, satin-like texture so much admired by all
connoisseurs.
In Japan, as in Europe, three varieties of relief carving are distinguished—alto (taka-bori), mezzo
(chūniku-bori) and basso (usuniku-bori). In the opinion of the Japanese expert, these styles hold the
same respective rank as that occupied by the three kinds of ideographic script in
Methods of caligraphy. High relief carving corresponds to the kaisho, or most classical form of
Chiselling. writing; medium relief to the gyōsho, or semi-cursive style; and low relief to the
sōsho or grass character. With regard to incised chiselling, the commonest form is kebori (hair-
carving), which may be called engraving, the lines being of uniform thickness and depth. Very
beautiful results are obtained by the kebori method, but incomparably the finest work in the incised
class is that known as kata-kiri-bori. In this kind of chiselling the Japanese artist can claim to be
unique as well as unrivalled. Evidently the idea of the great Yokoya experts, the originators of the
style, was to break away from the somewhat formal monotony of ordinary engraving, where each
line performs exactly the same function, and to convert the chisel into an artist’s brush instead of
using it as a common cutting tool. They succeeded admirably. In the kata-kiri-bori every line has its
proper value in the pictorial design, and strength and directness become cardinal elements in the
strokes of the burin just as they do in the brushwork of the picture-painter. The same fundamental
rule applied, too, whether the field of the decoration was silk, paper or metal. The artist’s tool, be it
brush or burin, must perform its task by one effort. There must be no appearance of subsequent
deepening, or extending, or re-cutting or finishing. Kata-kiri-bori by a great expert is a delight. One
is lost in astonishment at the nervous yet perfectly regulated force and the unerring fidelity of every
trace of the chisel. Another variety of carving much affected by artists of the 17th century, and now
largely used, is called shishi-ai-bori or niku-ai-bori. In this style the surface of the design is not raised
above the general plane of the field, but an effect of projection is obtained either by recessing the
whole space immediately surrounding the design, or by enclosing the latter in a scarped frame. Yet
another and very favourite method, giving beautiful results, is to model the design on both faces of
the metal so as to give a sculpture in the round. The fashion is always accompanied by chiselling à
jour (sukashi-bori), so that the sculptured portions stand out in their entirety.
Inlaying with gold or silver was among the early forms of decoration in Japan. The skill developed
in modern times is at least equal to anything which the past can show, and the results produced are
much more imposing. There are two principal kinds of inlaying: the first called
Inlaying. hon-zōgan (true inlaying), the second nunome-zōgan (linen-mesh inlaying). As to
the former, the Japanese method does not differ from that seen in the beautiful
iron censers and vases inlaid with gold which the Chinese produced from the Süen-tē era (1426-
1436). In the surface of the metal the workman cuts grooves wider at the base than at the top, and
then hammers into them gold or silver wire. Such a process presents no remarkable features, except
that it has been carried by the Japanese to an extraordinary degree of elaborateness. The nunome-
zōgan is more interesting. Suppose, for example, that the artist desires to produce an inlaid diaper.
His first business is to chisel the surface in lines forming the basic pattern of the design. Thus, for a
diamond-petal diaper the chisel is carried across the face of the metal horizontally, tracing a number
of parallel bands divided at fixed intervals by ribs which are obtained by merely straightening the
chisel and striking it a heavy blow. The same process is then repeated in another direction, so that
the new bands cross the old at an angle adapted to the nature of the design. Several independent
chisellings may be necessary before the lines of the diaper emerge clearly, but throughout the whole
operation no measurement of any kind is taken, the artist being guided entirely by his hand and eye.
The metal is then heated, not to redness, but sufficiently to develop a certain degree of softness,
and the workman, taking a very thin sheet of gold (or silver), hammers portions of it into the salient
points of the design. In ordinary cases this is the sixth process. The seventh is to hammer gold into
the outlines of the diaper; the eighth, to hammer it into the pattern filling the spaces between the
lines, and the ninth and tenth to complete the details. Of course the more intricate the design the
more numerous the processes. It is scarcely possible to imagine a higher effort of hand and eye than
this nunome-zōgan displays, for while intricacy and elaborateness are carried to the very extreme,
absolute mechanical accuracy is obtained. Sometimes in the same design we see gold of three
different hues, obtained by varying the alloy. A third kind of inlaying, peculiar to Japan, is sumi-zōgan
(ink-inlaying), so called because the inlaid design gives the impression of having been painted with
Indian ink beneath the transparent surface of the metal. The difference between this process and
ordinary inlaying is that for sumi-zōgan the design to be inlaid is fully chiselled out of an independent
block of metal with sides sloping so as to be broader at the base than at the top. The object which is
to receive the decoration is then channelled in dimensions corresponding to those of the design
block, and the latter having been fixed in the channels, the surface is ground and polished until an
intimate union is obtained between the inlaid design and the metal forming its field. Very beautiful
effects are thus produced, for the design seems to have grown up to the surface of the metal field
rather than to have been planted in it. Shibuichi inlaid with shakudo used to be the commonest
combination of metals in this class of decoration, and the objects usually depicted were bamboos,
crows, wild-fowl under the moon, peony sprays and so forth.
A variety of decoration much practised by early experts, and carried to a high degree of excellence
in modern times, is mokume-ji (wood-grained ground). The process in this case is to take a thin
plate of metal and beat it into another plate of similar metal, so that the two,
Wood-grained though welded together, retain their separate forms. The mass, while still hot, is
Grounds. coated with hena-tsuchi (a kind of marl) and rolled in straw ash, in which state it
is roasted over a charcoal fire raised to glowing heat with the bellows. The clay
having been removed, another plate of the same metal is beaten in, and the same process is
repeated. This is done several times, the number depending on the quality of graining that the
expert desires to produce. The manifold plate is then heavily punched from one side, so that the
opposite face protrudes in broken blisters, which are then hammered down until each becomes a
centre of wave propagation. In fine work the apex of the blister is ground off before the final
hammering. Iron was the metal used exclusively for work of this kind down to the 16th century, but
various metals began thenceforth to be combined. Perhaps the choicest variety is gold graining in a
shakudo field. By repeated hammering and polishing the expert obtains such control of the wood-
grain pattern that its sinuosities and eddies seem to have developed symmetry without losing
anything of their fantastic grace. There are other methods of producing mokume-ji.
It has been frequently asserted by Western critics that the year (1876) which witnessed the
abolition of sword-wearing in Japan, witnessed also the end of her artistic metal-work. That is a
great mistake. The art has merely developed new phases in modern times. Not
Modern and only are its masters as skilled now as they were in the days of the Gotō, the Nara,
Ancient Skill. the Yokoya and the Yanagawa celebrities, but also their productions must be
called greater in many respects and more interesting than those of their
renowned predecessors. They no longer devote themselves to the manufacture of sword ornaments,
but work rather at vases, censers, statuettes, plaques, boxes and other objects of a serviceable or
ornamental nature. All the processes described above are practised by them with full success, and
they have added others quite as remarkable.
Of these, one of the most interesting is called kiribame (insertion). The decorative design having
been completely chiselled in the round, is then fixed in a field of a different metal, in which a design
of exactly similar outline has been cut out. The result is that the picture has no blank reverse. For
example, on the surface of a shibuichi box-lid we see the backs of a flock of geese chiselled in silver,
and when the lid is opened, their breasts and the under-sides of their pinions appear. The difficulty
of such work is plain. Microscopic accuracy has to be attained in cutting out the space for the
insertion of the design, and while the latter must be soldered firmly in its place, not the slightest
trace of solder or the least sign of junction must be discernible between the metal of the inserted
picture and that of the field in which it is inserted. Suzuki Gensuke is the inventor of this method. He
belongs to a class of experts called uchimono-shi (hammerers) who perform preparatory work for
glyptic artists in metal. The skill of these men is often wonderful. Using the hammer only, some of
them can beat out an intricate shape as truly and delicately as a sculptor could carve it with his
chisels. Ōhori Masatoshi, an uchimono-shi of Aizu (d. 1897), made a silver cake-box in the form of a
sixteen-petalled chrysanthemum. The shapes of the body and lid corresponded so intimately that,
whereas the lid could be slipped on easily and smoothly without any attempt to adjust its curves to
those of the body, it always fitted so closely that the box could be lifted by grasping the lid only.
Another feat of his was to apply a lining of silver to a shakudo box by shaping and hammering only,
the fit being so perfect that the lining clung like paper to every part of the box. Suzuki Gensuke and
Hirata Sōkō are scarcely less expert. The latter once exhibited in Tōkyō a silver game-cock with soft
plumage and surface modelling of the most delicate character. It had been made by means of the
hammer only. Suzuki’s kiribame process is not to be confounded with the kiribame-zōgan (inserted
inlaying) of Tōyoda Kokō, also a modern artist. The gist of the latter method is that a design
chiselled à jour has its outlines veneered with other metal which serves to emphasize them. Thus,
having pierced a spray of flowers in a thin sheet of shibuichi, the artist fits a slender rim of gold,
silver or shakudo to the petals, leaves and stalks, so that an effect is produced of transparent
blossoms outlined in gold, silver or purple. Another modern achievement—also due to Suzuki
Gensuke—is maze-gane (mixed metals). It is a singular conception, and the results obtained depend
largely on chance. Shibuichi and shakudo are melted separately, and when they have cooled just
enough not to mingle too intimately, they are cast into a bar which is subsequently beaten flat. The
plate thus obtained shows accidental clouding, or massing of dark tones, and these patches are
taken as the basis of a pictorial design to which final character is given by inlaying with gold and
silver, and by katā-kiri sculpture. Such pictures partake largely of the impressionist character, but
they attain much beauty in the hands of the Japanese artist with his extensive répertoire of
suggestive symbols. A process resembling maze-gane, but less fortuitous, is shibuichi-dōshi
(combined shibuichi), which involves beating together two kinds of shibuichi and then adding a third
variety, after which the details of the picture are worked in as in the case of maze-gane. The charm
of these methods is that certain parts of the decorative design seem to float, not on the surface of
the metal, but actually within it, an admirable effect of depth and atmosphere being thus produced.
Mention must also be made of an extraordinarily elaborate and troublesome process invented by
Kajima Ippu, a great artist of the present day. It is called togi-dashi-zōgan (ground-out inlaying). In
this exquisite and ingenious kind of work the design appears to be growing up from the depths of
the metal, and a delightful impression of atmosphere and water is obtained. All these processes, as
well as that of repoussé, in which the Japanese have excelled from a remote period, are now
practised with the greatest skill in Tokyo, Kiōto, Osaka and Kanazawa. At the art exhibitions held
twice a year in the principal cities there may be seen specimens of statuettes, alcove ornaments, and
household utensils which show that the Japanese worker in metals stands more indisputably than
ever at the head of the world’s artists in that field. The Occident does not yet appear to have full
realized the existence of such talent in Japan; partly perhaps because its displays in former times
were limited chiefly to sword-furniture, possessing little interest for the average European or
American; and partly because the Japanese have not yet learned to adapt their skill to foreign
requirements. They confine themselves at present to decorating plaques, boxes and cases for cigars
or cigarettes, and an occasional tea or coffee service; but the whole domain of salvers, dessert-
services, race-cups and so on remains virtually unexplored. Only within the past few years have
stores been established in the foreign settlements for the sale of silver utensils, and already the
workmanship on these objects displays palpable signs of the deterioration which all branches of
Japanese art have undergone in the attempt to cater for foreign taste. In a general sense the
European or American connoisseur is much less exacting than the Japanese. Broad effects of
richness and splendour captivate the former, whereas the latter looks for delicacy of finish, accuracy
of detail and, above all, evidences of artistic competence. It is nothing to a Japanese that a vase
should be covered with profuse decoration of flowers and foliage: he requires that every blossom
and every leaf shall be instinct with vitality, and the comparative costliness of fine workmanship does
not influence his choice. But if the Japanese sculptor adopted such standards in working for foreign
patrons, his market would be reduced to very narrow dimensions. He therefore adapts himself to his
circumstances, and, using the mould rather than the chisel, produces specimens which snow tawdry
handsomeness and are attractively cheap. It must be admitted, however, that even though foreign
appreciative faculty were sufficiently educated, the Japanese artist in metals would still labour under
the great difficulty of devising shapes to take the place of those which Europe and America have
learned to consider classical.
Bronze is called by the Japanese kara-kane, a term signifying “Chinese metal” and showing clearly
the source from which knowledge of the alloy was obtained. It is a copper-lead-tin compound, the
proportions of its constituents varying from 72 to 88% of copper, from 4 to 20%
Bronze Casting. of lead and from 2 to 8% of tin. There are also present small quantities of arsenic
and antimony, and zinc is found generally as a mere trace, but sometimes
reaching to 6%. Gold is supposed to have found a place in ancient bronzes, but its presence has
never been detected by analysis, and of silver not more than 2% seems to have been admitted at
any time. Mr W. Gowland has shown that, whatever may have been the practice of Japanese bronze
makers in ancient and medieval eras, their successors in later days deliberately introduced arsenic
and antimony into the compound in order to harden the bronze without impairing its fusibility, so
that it might take a sharper impression of the mould. Japanese bronze is well suited for castings, not
only because of its low melting-point, great fluidity and capacity for taking sharp impressions, but
also because it has a particularly smooth surface and readily develops a fine patina. One variety
deserves special mention. It is a golden yellow bronze, called sentoku—this being the Japanese
pronunciation of Suen-tē, the era of the Ming dynasty of China when this compound was invented.
Copper, tin, lead and zinc, mixed in various proportions by different experts, are the ingredients, and
the beautiful golden hues and glossy texture of the surface are obtained by patina-producing
processes, in which branch of metal-work the Japanese show altogether unique skill.
From the time when they began to cast bronze statues, Japanese experts understood how to
employ a hollow, removable core round which the metal was run in a skin just thick enough for
strength without waste of material; and they also understood the use of wax for modelling purposes.
In ordinary circumstances, a casting thus obtained took the form of a shell without any break of
continuity. But for very large castings the process had to be modified. The great image of Lochana
Buddha at Nara, for example, would measure 138 ft. in height were it standing erect, and its weight
is about 550 tons. The colossal Amida at Kamakura has a height only 3 ft. less. It would have been
scarcely possible to cast such statues in one piece in situ, or, if cast elsewhere, to transport them
and elevate them on their pedestals. The plan pursued was to build them up gradually in their places
by casting segment after segment. Thus, for the Nara Daibutsu, the mould was constructed in a
series of steps ascending 12 in. at a time, until the head and neck were reached, which, of course,
had to be cast in one shell, 12 ft. high.
The term “parlour bronzes” serves to designate objects for domestic use, as flower-vases, incense-
burners and alcove ornaments. Bronze-casters began to turn their attention to these objects about
the middle of the 17th century. The art of casting bronze reached its culmination in the hands of a
group of great experts—Seimin, Tōun, Masatune, Teijō, Sōmin, Keisai, Takusai, Gido, Zenryūsai and
Hotokusai—who flourished during the second half of the 18th century and the first half of the 19th.
Many brilliant specimens of these men’s work survive, their general features being that the motives
are naturalistic, that the quality of the metal is exceptionally fine, that in addition to beautifully clear
casting obtained by highly skilled use of the cera-perduta process, the chisel was employed to impart
delicacy and finish to the design, and that modelling in high relief is most successfully introduced.
But it is a mistake to assert, as many have asserted, that after the era of the above ten masters—the
latest of whom, Sōmin, ceased to work in 1871—no bronzes comparable with theirs were cast.
Between 1875 and 1879 some of the finest bronzes ever produced in Japan were turned out by a
group of experts working under the business name of Sanseisha. Started by two brothers, Oshima
Katsujiro (art-name Jōun) and Oshima Yasutaro (art-name Shōkaku), this association secured the
services of a number of skilled chisellers of sword-furniture, who had lost their occupation by the
abandonment of sword-wearing. Nothing could surpass the delicacy of the works executed at the
Sanseisha’s atelier in Tōkyō, but unfortunately such productions were above the standard of the
customers for whom they were intended. Foreign buyers, who alone stood in the market at that
time, failed to distinguish the fine and costly bronzes of Jōun, Shōkaku and their colleagues from
cheap imitations which soon began to compete with them, so that ultimately the Sanseisha had to
be closed. This page in the modern history of Japan’s bronzes needs little alteration to be true of her
applied art in general. Foreign demand has shown so little discrimination that experts, finding it
impossible to obtain adequate remuneration for first-class work, have been obliged to abandon the
field altogether, or to lower their standard to the level of general appreciation, or by forgery to cater
for the perverted taste which attaches unreasoning value to age. Jōun has produced, and is
thoroughly capable of producing, bronzes at least equal to the best of Seimin’s masterpieces, yet he
has often been induced to put Seimin’s name on objects for the sake of attracting buyers who attach
more value to cachet than to quality. If to the names of Jōun and his brilliant pupil Ryūki we add
those of Suzuki Chōkichi, Okazaki Sessei, Hasegawa Kumazō, Kanaya Gorosaburō and Jomi Eisuke,
we have a group of modern bronze-casters who unquestionably surpass the ten experts beginning
with Seimin and ending with Sōmin. Okazaki Sessei has successfully achieved the casting of huge
panels carrying designs in high relief; and whether there is question of patina or of workmanship,
Jōmi Eisuke has never been surpassed.
Occidental influence has been felt, of course, in the field of modern bronze-casting. At a school of
art officially established in Tōkyō in 1873 under the direction of Italian teachers—a school which
owed its signal failure partly to the incompetence and intemperate behaviour of some of its foreign
professors, and partly to a strong renaissance of pure Japanese classicism—one of the few
accomplishments successfully taught was that of modelling in plaster and chiselling in marble after
Occidental methods. Marble statues are out of place in the wooden buildings as well as in the parks
of Japan, and even plaster busts or groups, though less incongruous perhaps, have not yet found
favour. Hence the skill undoubtedly possessed by several graduates of the defunct art school has to
be devoted chiefly to a subordinate purpose, namely, the fashioning of models for metal-casters. To
this combination of modellers in European style and metal-workers of such force as Suzuki and
Okazaki, Japan owes various memorial bronzes and effigies which are gradually finding a place in her
parks, her museums, her shrines or her private houses. There is here little departure from the well-
trodden paths of Europe. Studies in drapery, prancing steeds, ideal poses, heads with fragments of
torsos attached (in extreme violation of true art), crouching beasts of prey—all the stereotyped styles
are reproduced. The imitation is excellent.
Among the artists of early times it is often difficult to distinguish between the carver of wood and
the caster of bronze. The latter sometimes made his own models in wax, sometimes chiselled them
in wood, and sometimes had recourse to a specialist in wood-carving. The group
Carving in of splendid sculptors in wood that graced the 11th, 12th and 13th centuries left
Wood and names never to be forgotten, but undoubtedly many other artists of scarcely less
Ivory. force regarded bronze-casting as their principal business. Thus the story of wood-
carving is very difficult to trace. Even in the field of architectural decoration for
interiors, tradition tells us scarcely anything about the masters who carved such magnificent works
as those seen in the Kiōto temples, the Tokugawa mausolea, and some of the old castles. There are,
however, no modern developments of such work to be noted. The ability of former times exists and
is exercised in the old way, though the field for its employment has been greatly narrowed.
Plate V.
SCULPTURE
Fig. 11.—VAJRA MALLA. By Unkei (13th century). Fig. 12.—STATUE OF ASANGA (12th century, artist unknown).
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
Netsuke still have no difficulty in differentiating the bright versatility of her national genius
Carvers. 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 Tōkyō, Osaka and Kiōto, 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.
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
The Realistic had neither art education nor anatomical instruction, and that he never enjoyed
Departure. 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.
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 Kōun, who occupies in the field of
sculpture much the same place as that held by Hashimoto Gaho in the realm of
The Semi- painting. Kōun carves figures in the round which not only display great power of
foreign School. 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 Taketarō; 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 Kōun school, however, do much work which appeals to emotions in general rather
than to individual memories. Thus Arakawa Reiun, one of Kōun’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 Kōun’s sculptures appear unfinished to eyes trained in
Occidental galleries, whereas the Japanese connoisseur detects evidence of a technical feat in their
seeming roughness.
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—
Private consisting of posts, beams, rafters, door-posts and window-frames—was tied
Dwellings. 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 Kiōto, 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.
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
Buddhist Chinese models, such it virtually remained, though in later times all the resources
Temple of the sculptor and the painter were employed to beautify it externally and
Architecture. internally.
“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.)
None of the magnificence of the Buddhist temple belongs to the Shintō 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 Shintō devotees, are believed to present to-day precisely the
Shintō appearance they presented in 478, when they were moved thither in obedience to
Architecture. 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 Shintō 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 Kiōto, the product of years
of patient toil on the part of weaver and designer alike. Kawashima of Kiōto 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 Nikkō 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
yūzen birôdo, commonly known among English-speaking people as cut velvet. Dyeing by the yūzen
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 yūzen processes of dyeing is, in fact, the
difference between a stencilled sketch and a finished picture. In the case of cut velvet, the yūzen
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 yūzen 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 yūzen 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.
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
Embroidery. 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.
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
Early Period. 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 Shintō 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, Kiōto, Satsuma, Kutani, Owari, Bizen, Takatori, Banko,
Izumo and Yatsushiro.
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—
Hizen. 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).
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
Nabeshima. 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.
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
Hirado. 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.
The history of Kiōto 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
Kiōto. 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-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. raku-yaki of Kiōto 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 Chōjiro (artistic name, Chōryū)
received from Hideyoshi (the Taikō) 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-yaki is the best known among the ceramic productions of Kiōto. There is evidence to show
that the art of decoration with enamels over the glaze reached Kiōto from Hizen in the middle of the
17th century. Just at that time there flourished in the Western capital a potter of
Awata. 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; Dōhachi (1751-1763), who subsequently moved to
Kiyōmizu-zaka, another part of Kiōto, the faience of which constitutes the Kiyōmizu-yaki mentioned
above; Kinkōzan (1745-1760); Hōzan (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,
Dōhachi, Kinkōzan, Hōzan 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.
The origin of the Iwakura-yaki is somewhat obscure, and its history, at an early
Iwakura. date, becomes confused with that of the Awata yaki, from which, indeed, it does
not materially differ.
In the term Kiyōmizu-yaki may be included roughly all the faience of Kiōto, with the exception of
the three varieties described above. The distinction between Kiyōmizu, Awata and Iwakura is
primarily local. They are parts of the same city, and if their names have been used
Kiyōmizu. 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 Kiyōmizu-zaka and Gojō-zaka
lived a number of ceramists, all following virtually the same models with variations due to individual
genius. The principal Kiyōmizu artists were: Ebisei, who moved from Awata to Gojō-zaka in 1688;
Eisen and Rokubei, pupils of Ebisei; Mokubei, a pupil of Eisen, but more celebrated than his master;
Shūhei (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 Kiōto, 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 Kishū, by order of the feudal chief
of that province. It is known as Kaira-ku-yen-yaki (ware of the Kairaku park).
Plate VII.
LACQUER
Fig. 18.—LID OF BOX. By Korin. Fig. 19.—CASE FOR HEAD OF A SKAKUJO.
Plate VIII.
Fig. 27.—CENSER, WITH KOCHI GLAZE. By Eisen. Fig. 28.—TEA JAR. By Ninsei.
Fig. 29.—BIZEN WARE. Samantabhadra. Fig. 30.—CENSER. By Kenzan.
No phrase is commoner in the mouths of Western collectors than “Old Satsuma”; no ware is rarer
in Western collections. Nine hundred and ninety-nine pieces out of every thousand that do duty as
genuine examples of this prince of faiences are simply examples of the skill of
Satsuma. modern forgers. In point of fact, the production of faience decorated with gold
and coloured enamels may be said to have commenced at the beginning of the
eighth century in Satsuma. Some writers maintain that it did actually commence then, and that
nothing of the kind had existed there previously. Setting aside, however, the strong improbability that
a style of decoration so widely practised and so highly esteemed could have remained unknown
during a century and a half to experts working for one of the most puissant chieftains in Japan, we
have the evidence of trustworthy traditions and written records that enamelled faience was made by
the potters at Tatsumonji—the principal factory of Satsuma-ware in early days—as far back as the
year 1676. Mitsuhisa, then feudal lord of Satsuma, was a munificent patron of art. He summoned to
his fief the painter Tangen—a pupil of the renowned Tanyū, who died in 1674—and employed him to
paint faience or to furnish designs for the ceramists of Tatsumonji. The ware produced under these
circumstances is still known by the name of Satsuma Tangen. But the number of specimens was
small. Destined chiefly for private use or for presents, their decoration was delicate rather than rich,
the colour chiefly employed being brown, or reddish brown, under the glaze, and the decoration over
the glaze being sparse and chaste. Not until the close of the l8th century or the beginning of the
19th did the more profuse fashion of enamelled decoration come to be largely employed. It was
introduced by two potters who had visited Kiōto, and there observed the ornate methods so well
illustrated in the wares of Awata and Kiyōmizu. At the same time a strong impetus was given to the
production of faience at Tadeno—then the chief factory in Satsuma—owing to the patronage of
Shimazu Tamanobu, lord of the province. To this increase in production and to the more elaborate
application of verifiable enamels may be attributed the erroneous idea that Satsuma faience
decorated with gold and coloured enamels had its origin at the close of the 18th century. For all the
purposes of the ordinary collector it may be said to have commenced then, and to have come to an
end about 1860; but for the purposes of the historian we must look farther back.
The ceramic art in Satsuma owed much to the aid of a number of Korean experts who settled
there after the return of the Japanese forces from Korea. One of these men, Boku Heii, discovered
(1603) clay fitted for the manufacture of white craquelé faience. This was the subsequently
celebrated Satsuma-yaki. But in Boku’s time, and indeed as long as the factories flourished, many
other kinds of faience were produced, the principal having rich black or flambé glazes, while a few
were green or yellow monochromes. One curious variety, called same-yaki, had glaze chagrined like
the skin of a shark. Most of the finest pieces of enamelled faience were the work of artists at the
Tadeno factory, while the best specimens of other kinds were by the artists of Tatsumonji.
The porcelain of Kutani is among those best known to Western collectors, though good specimens
ofthe old ware have always been scarce. Its manufacture dates from the close of the 17th century,
when the feudal chief of Kaga took the industry under his patronage. There were
Kutani. two principal varieties of the ware: ao-Kutani, so called because of a green (ao)
enamel of great brilliancy and beauty which was largely used in its decoration,
and Kutani with painted and enamelled pâte varying from hard porcelain to pottery. Many of the
pieces are distinguished by a peculiar creamy whiteness of glaze, suggesting the idea that they were
intended to imitate the soft-paste wares of China. The enamels are used to delineate decorative
subjects and are applied in masses, the principal colours being green, yellow and soft Prussian blue,
all brilliant and transparent, with the exception of the last which is nearly opaque. In many cases we
find large portions of the surface completely covered with green or yellow enamel overlying black
diapers or scroll patterns. The second variety of Kutani ware may often be mistaken for “old Japan”
(i.e. Imari porcelain). The most characteristic examples of it are distinguishable, however, by the
preponderating presence of a peculiar russet red, differing essentially from the full-bodied and
comparatively brilliant colour of the Arita pottery. Moreover, the workmen of Kaga did not follow the
Arita precedent of massing blue under the glaze. In the great majority of cases they did not use blue
at all in this position, and when they did, its place was essentially subordinate. They also employed
silver freely for decorative purposes, whereas we rarely find it thus used on “old Japan” porcelain.
About the time (1843) of the ao-Kutani revival, a potter called lida Hachiroemon introduced a style
of decoration which subsequently came to be regarded as typical of all Kaga procelains. Taking the
Eiraku porcelains of Kiōto as models, Hachiroemon employed red grounds with designs traced on
them in gold. The style was not absolutely new in Kaga. We find similar decoration on old and choice
examples of Kutani-yaki. But the character of the old red differs essentially from that of the modern
manufacture—the former being a soft, subdued colour, more like a bloom than an enamel; the latter
a glossy and comparatively crude pigment. In Hachiroemon’s time and during the twenty years
following the date of his innovation, many beautiful examples of elaborately decorated Kutani
porcelain were produced. The richness, profusion and microscopic accuracy of their decoration could
scarcely have been surpassed; but, with very rare exceptions, their lack of delicacy of technique
disqualifies them to rank as fine porcelains.
It was at the little village of Seto, some five miles from Nagoya, the chief town of the province of
Owari, or Bishū, that the celebrated Kato Shirozaemon made the first Japanese faience worthy to be
considered a technical success. Shirozaemon produced dainty little tea-jars, ewers
Owari. and other cha-no-yu utensils. These, being no longer stoved in an inverted
position, as had been the habit before Shirozaemon’s time, were not disfigured by
the bare, blistered lips of their predecessors. Their pâte was close and well-manufactured pottery,
varying in colour from dark brown to russet, and covered with thick, lustrous glazes—black, amber-
brown, chocolate and yellowish grey. These glazes were not monochromatic: they showed
differences of tint, and sometimes marked varieties of colour; as when chocolate-brown passed into
amber, or black was relieved by streaks and clouds of grey and dead-leaf red. This ware came to be
known as Tōshiro-yaki, a term obtained by combining the second syllable of Katō with the two first
of Shirozaemon. A genuine example of it is at present worth many times its weight in gold to
Japanese dilettanti, though in foreign eyes it is little more than interesting. Shirozaemon was
succeeded at the kiln by three generations of his family, each representative retaining the name of
Tōshiro, and each distinguishing himself by the excellence of his work. Thenceforth Seto became the
headquarters of the manufacture of cha-no-yu utensils, and many of the tiny pieces turned out there
deserve high admiration, their technique being perfect, and their mahogany, russet-brown, amber
and buff glazes showing wonderful lustre and richness. Seto, in fact, acquired such a widespread
reputation for its ceramic productions that the term seto-mono (Seto article) came to be used
generally for all pottery and porcelain, just as “China” is in the West. Seto has now ceased to be a
pottery-producing centre, and has become the chief porcelain manufactory of Japan. The porcelain
industry was inaugurated in 1807 by Tamikichi, a local ceramist, who had visited Hizen and spent
three years there studying the necessary processes. Owari abounds in porcelain stone; but it does
not occur in constant or particularly simple forms, and as the potters have not yet learned to treat
their materials scientifically, their work is often marred by unforeseen difficulties. For many years
after Tamikichi’s processes had begun to be practised, the only decoration employed was blue under
the glaze. Sometimes Chinese cobalt was used, sometimes Japanese, and sometimes a mixture of
both. To Kawamoto Hansuke, who flourished about 1830-1845, belongs the credit of having turned
out the richest and most attractive ware of this class. But, speaking generally, Japanese blues do not
rank on the same decorative level with those of China. At Arita, although pieces were occasionally
turned out of which the colour could not be surpassed in purity and brilliancy, the general character
of the blue sous couverte was either thin or dull. At Hirado the ceramists affected a lighter and more
delicate tone than that of the Chinese, and, in order to obtain it, subjected the choice pigment of the
Middle Kingdom to refining processes of great severity. The Hirado blue, therefore, belongs to a
special aesthetic category. But at Owari the experts were content with an inferior colour, and their
blue-and-white porcelains never enjoyed a distinguished reputation, though occasionally we find a
specimen of great merit.
Decoration with vitrifiable enamels over the glaze, though it began to be practised at Owari about
the year 1840, never became a speciality of the place. Nowadays, indeed, numerous examples of
porcelains decorated in this manner are classed among Owari products. But they receive their
decoration, almost without exception, in Tōkyō or Yokohama, where a large number of artists, called
e-tsuke-shi, devote themselves entirely to porcelain-painting. These men seldom use vitrifiable
enamels, pigments being much more tractable and less costly. The dominant feature of the designs
is pictorial. They are frankly adapted to Western taste. Indeed, of this porcelain it may be said that,
from the monster pieces of blue-and-white manufactured at Seto—vases six feet high and garden
pillar-lamps half as tall again do not dismay the Bishū ceramist—to tiny coffee-cups decorated in
Tōkyō, with their delicate miniatures of birds, flowers, insects, fishes and so forth, everything
indicates the death of the old severe aestheticism. To such a depth of debasement had the ceramic
art fallen in Owari, that before the happy renaissance of the past ten years, Nagoya discredited itself
by employing porcelain as a base for cloisonné enamelling. Many products of this vitiated industry
have found their way into the collections of foreigners.
Pottery was produced at several hamlets in Bizen as far back as the 14th century, but ware worthy
of artistic notice did not make its appearance until the close of the 16th century, when the Taikō
himself paid a visit to the factory at Imbe. Thenceforth utensils for the use of the
Bizen. tea clubs began to be manufactured. This Bizen-yaki was red stoneware, with thin
diaphanous glaze. Made of exceedingly refractory clay, it underwent stoving for
more than three weeks, and was consequently remarkable for its hardness and metallic timbre.
Some fifty years later, the character of the choicest Bizen-yaki underwent a marked change. It
became slate-coloured or bluish-brown faience, with pâte as fine as pipe-clay, but very hard. In the
ao-Bizen (blue Bizen), as well as in the red variety, figures of mythical beings and animals, birds,
fishes and other natural objects, were modelled with a degree of plastic ability that can scarcely be
spoken of in too high terms. Representative specimens are truly admirable—every line, every contour
faithful. The production was very limited, and good pieces soon ceased to be procurable except at
long intervals and heavy expense. The Bizen-yaki familiar to Western collectors is comparatively
coarse brown or reddish brown, stoneware, modelled rudely, though sometimes redeemed by
touches of the genius never entirely absent from the work of the Japanese artisan-artist. Easy to be
confounded with it is another ware of the same type manufactured at Shidoro in the province of
Tōtōmi.
The Japanese potters could never vie with the Chinese in the production of glazes: the wonderful
monochromes and polychromes of the Middle Kingdom had no peers anywhere. In Japan they were
most closely approached by the faience of Takatori in the province of Chikuzen. In
Takatori. its early days the ceramic industry of this province owed something to the
assistance of Korean experts who settled there after the expedition of 1592. But
its chief development took place under the direction of Igarashi Jizaemon, an amateur ceramist,
who, happening to visit Chikuzen about 1620, was taken under the protection of the chief of the fief
and munificently treated. Taking the renowned yao-pien-yao, or “transmutation ware” of China as a
model, the Takatori potters endeavoured, by skilful mixing of colouring materials, to reproduce the
wonderful effects of oxidization seen in the Chinese ware. They did not, indeed, achieve their ideal,
but they did succeed in producing some exquisitely lustrous glazes of the flambé type, rich
transparent brown passing into claret colour, with flecks or streaks of white and clouds of “iron dust.”
The pâte of this faience was of the finest description, and the technique in every respect faultless.
Unfortunately, the best experts confined themselves to working for the tea clubs, and consequently
produced only insignificant pieces, as tea-jars, cups and little ewers. During the 18th century, a
departure was made from these strict canons. From this period date most of the specimens best
known outside Japan—cleverly modelled figures of mythological beings and animals covered with
lustrous variegated glazes, the general colours being grey or buff, with tints of green, chocolate,
brown and sometimes blue.
A ware of which considerable quantities have found their way westward of late years in the Awaji-
yaki, so called from the island of Awaji where it is manufactured in the village of Iga. It was first
produced between the years 1830 and 1840 by one Kajū Mimpei, a man of
Awaji. considerable private means who devoted himself to the ceramic art out of pure
enthusiasm. His story is full of interest, but it must suffice here to note the results
of his enterprise. Directing his efforts at first to reproducing the deep green and straw-yellow glazes
of China, he had exhausted almost his entire resources before success came, and even then the
public was slow to recognize the merits of his ware. Nevertheless he persevered, and in 1838 we
find him producing not only green and yellow monochromes, but also greyish white and mirror-black
glazes of high excellence. So thoroughly had he now mastered the management of glazes that he
could combine yellow, green, white and claret colour in regular patches to imitate tortoise-shell.
Many of his pieces have designs incised or in relief, and others are skilfully decorated with gold and
silver. Awaji-yaki, or Mimpei-yaki as it is often called, is generally porcelain, but we occasionally find
specimens which may readily be mistaken for Awata faience.
Banko faience is a universal favourite with foreign collectors. The type generally known to them is
exceedingly light ware, for the most part made of light grey, unglazed clay, and having hand-
modelled decoration in relief. But there are numerous varieties. Chocolate or
Banko. dove-coloured grounds with delicate diapers in gold and engobe; brown or black
faience with white, yellow and pink designs incised or in relief; pottery curiously
and deftly marbled by combinations of various coloured clays—these and many other kinds are to be
found, all, however, presenting one common feature, namely, skilful finger-moulding and a slight
roughening of the surface as though it had received the impression of coarse linen or crape before
baking. This modern banko-yaki is produced chiefly at Yokkaichi in the province of Ise. It is entirely
different from the original banko-ware made in Kuwana, in the same province, by Numanami
Gozaemon at the close of the 18th century. Gozaemon was an imitator. He took for his models the
raku faience of Kiōto, the masterpieces of Ninsei and Kenzan, the rococo wares of Korea, the
enamelled porcelain of China, and the blue-and-white ware of Delft. He did not found a school,
simply because he had nothing new to teach, and the fact that a modern ware goes by the same
name as his productions is simply because his seal—the inscription on which (banko, everlasting)
suggested the name of the ware—subsequently (1830) fell into the hands of one Mori Yūsetsu, who
applied it to his own ware. Mori Yūsetsu, however, had more originality than Numanami. He
conceived the idea of shaping his pieces by putting the mould inside and pressing the clay with the
hand into the matrix. The consequence was that his wares received the design on the inner as well
as the outer surface, and were moreover thumb-marked—essential characteristics of the banko-yaki
now so popular.
Among a multitude of other Japanese wares, space allows us to mention only two, those of Izumo
and Yatsushiro. The chief of the former is faience, having light grey, close pâte and yellow or straw-
coloured glaze, with or without crackle, to which is applied decoration in gold and
Izumo. green enamel. Another variety has chocolate glaze, clouded with amber and
flecked with gold dust. The former faience had its origin at the close of the 17th
century, the latter at the close of the 18th; but the Izumo-yaki now procurable is a modern
production.
The Yatsushiro faience is a production of the province of Higo, where a number of Korean potters
settled at the close of the 17th century. It is the only Japanese ware in which the characteristics of a
Korean original are unmistakably preserved. Its diaphanous, pearl-grey glaze,
Yatsushiro. uniform, lustrous and finely crackled, overlying encaustic decoration in white slip,
the fineness of its warm reddish pâte, and the general excellence of its technique,
have always commanded admiration. It is produced now in considerable quantities, but the modern
ware falls far short of its predecessor.
Many examples of the above varieties deserve the enthusiastic admiration they have received, yet
they unquestionably belong to a lower rank of ceramic achievements than the choice productions of
Chinese kilns. The potters of the Middle Kingdom, from the early eras of the Ming dynasty down to
the latest years of the 18th century, stood absolutely without rivals as makers of porcelain. Their
technical ability was incomparable—though in grace of decorative conception they yielded the palm
to the Japanese—and the representative specimens they bequeathed to posterity remained, until
quite recently, far beyond the imitative capacity of European or Asiatic experts. As for faience and
pottery, however, the Chinese despised them in all forms, with one notable exception, the yi-hsing-
yao, known in the Occident as boccaro. Even the yi-hsing-yao, too, owed much of its popularity to
special utility. It was essentially the ware of the tea-drinker. If in the best specimens exquisite
modelling, wonderful accuracy of finish and pâtes of interesting tints are found, such pieces are,
none the less, stamped prominently with the character of utensils rather than with that of works of
art. In short, the artistic output of Chinese kilns in their palmiest days was, not faience or pottery,
but porcelain, whether of soft or hard paste. Japan, on the contrary, owes her ceramic distinction in
the main to her faience. A great deal has been said by enthusiastic writers about the famille
chrysanthemo-péonienne of Imari and the genre Kakiemon of Nabeshima, but these porcelains,
beautiful as they undoubtedly are, cannot be placed on the same level with the kwan-yao and famille
rose of the Chinese experts. The Imari ware, even though its thick biscuit and generally ungraceful
shapes be omitted from the account, shows no enamels that can rival the exquisitely soft, broken
tints of the famille rose; and the Kakiemon porcelain, for all its rich though chaste contrasts, lacks
the delicate transmitted tints of the shell-like kwan-yao. So, too, the blue-and-white porcelain of
Hirado, though assisted by exceptional tenderness of sous-pâte colour, by milk-white glaze, by great
beauty of decorative design, and often by an admirable use of the modelling or graving tool,
represents a ceramic achievement palpably below the soft paste kai-pien-yao of King-te-chen. It is a
curious and interesting fact that this last product of Chinese skill remained unknown in Japan down
to very recent days. In the eyes of a Chinese connoisseur, no blue-and-white porcelain worthy of
consideration exists, or ever has existed, except the kai-pien-yao, with its imponderable pâte, its
wax-like surface, and its rich, glowing blue, entirely free from superficiality or garishness and broken
into a thousand tints by the microscopic crackle of the glaze. The Japanese, although they obtained
from their neighbour almost everything of value she had to give them, did not know this wonderful
ware, and their ignorance is in itself sufficient to prove their ceramic inferiority. There remains, too, a
wide domain in which the Chinese developed high skill, whereas the Japanese can scarcely be said
to have entered it at all; namely, the domain of monochromes and polychromes, striking every note
of colour from the richest to the most delicate; the domain of truité and flambé glazes, of yō-pien-
yao (transmutation ware), and of egg-shell with incised or translucid decoration. In all that region of
achievement the Chinese potters stood alone and seemingly unapproachable. The Japanese, on the
contrary, made a specialty of faience, and in that particular line they reached a high standard of
excellence. No faience produced either in China or any other Oriental country can dispute the palm
with really representative specimens of Satsuma ware. Not without full reason have Western
connoisseurs lavished panegyrics upon that exquisite production. The faience of the Kiōto artists
never reached quite to the level of the Satsuma in quality of pâte and glowing mellowness of
decoration; their materials were slightly inferior. But their skill as decorators was as great as its range
was wide, and they produced a multitude of masterpieces on which alone Japan’s ceramic fame
might safely be rested.
When the mediatization of the fiefs, in 1871, terminated the local patronage hitherto extended so
munificently to artists, the Japanese ceramists gradually learned that they must thenceforth depend
chiefly upon the markets of Europe and America. They had to appeal, in short, to
Change of Style an entirely new public, and how to secure its approval was to them a perplexing
after the problem. Having little to guide them, they often interpreted Western taste
Restoration. incorrectly, and impaired their own reputation in a corresponding degree. Thus, in
the early years of the Meiji era, there was a period of complete prostitution. No
new skill was developed, and what remained of the old was expended chiefly upon the manufacture
of meretricious objects, disfigured by excess of decoration and not relieved by any excellence of
technique. In spite of their artistic defects, these specimens were exported in considerable numbers
by merchants in the foreign settlements, and their first cost being very low, they found a not
unremunerative market. But as European and American collectors became better acquainted with the
capacities of the pre-Meiji potters, the great inferiority of these new specimens was recognized, and
the prices commanded by the old wares gradually appreciated. What then happened was very
natural: imitations of the old wares were produced, and having been sufficiently disfigured by
staining and other processes calculated to lend an air of rust and age, they were sold to ignorant
persons, who laboured under the singular yet common hallucination that the points to be looked for
in specimens from early kilns were, not technical excellence, decorative tastefulness and richness of
colour, but dinginess, imperfections and dirt; persons who imagined, in short, that defects which
they would condemn at once in new porcelains ought to be regarded as merits in old. Of course a
trade of that kind, based on deception, could not have permanent success. One of the imitators of
“old Satsuma” was among the first to perceive that a new line must be struck out. Yet the earliest
results of his awakened perception helped to demonstrate still further the depraved spirit that had
come over Japanese art. For he applied himself to manufacture wares having a close affinity with the
shocking monstrosities used for sepulchral purposes in ancient Apulia, where fragments of dissected
satyrs, busts of nymphs or halves of horses were considered graceful excrescences for the
adornment of an amphora or a pithos. This Makuzu faience, produced by the now justly celebrated
Miyagawa Shōzan of Ota (near Yokohama), survives in the form of vases and pots having birds,
reptiles, flowers, crustacea and so forth plastered over the surface—specimens that disgrace the
period of their manufacture, and represent probably the worst aberration of Japanese ceramic
conception.
A production so degraded as the early Makuzu faience could not possibly have a lengthy vogue.
Miyagawa soon began to cast about for a better inspiration, and found it in the monochromes and
polychromes of the Chinese Kang-hsi and Yung-cheng kilns. The extraordinary
Adoption of value attaching to the incomparable red glazes of China, not only in the country of
Chinese their origin but also in the United States, where collectors showed a fine instinct
Models. in this matter, seems to have suggested to Miyagawa the idea of imitation. He
took for model the rich and delicate “liquid-dawn” monochrome, and succeeded in
producing some specimens of considerable merit. Thenceforth his example was largely followed, and
it may now be said that the tendency of many of the best Japanese ceramists is to copy Chinese
chefs-d’œuvre. To find them thus renewing their reputation by reverting to Chinese models, is not
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