Soba salt

Thanks to a recent post on 100 Hundred Mountains I discovered Okinawa Soba aka Rob Oechsle, a collector of Meiji and Taisho Japanese photography. Along with an amazing flickr collection, he also has a labyrinthine website devoted to T. Enami a turn of the century photographer based in Yokohama. There are about 3,000 images on his flickr profile, many with including Fuji as the central subject or used as a back drop. I spent several hours this afternoon trawling through his collections loosing myself in beauty and wonder. Although this is not an image by T. Enami, I have decided to post the following salt print with Okinawa Soba commentary in full. It gives a feel for his writing style and for the seriousness of his collecting and generosity with sharing his research. It's a fascinating project by an unusual man.

THE HEADLESS HORESMAN OF JAPAN'S MEIJI MADNESS

-- or, How Light Areas of a Salt Print Tend to Fade Away First ("Salt Print" # 11)

No Photoshop or Paint Eraser here. Posting un-retouched AS IS !!! This ca.1890s photograph was printed as a postcard size image around 1905 by a commercial photographer using the "Salted Paper Print" process. No standard albumen, collodian, or gelatin emulsion coatings for this guy. He was going to do it the "Classic" way like the old "Salt Print" and "Calotype" days of yore....and color it when he was done.

I will be the first to admit that the commercial revival of the classic salt print is pretty cool...and pretty rare for the late Meiji era. But, depending on how they were processed, these rare and often beautiful "revival salt prints" sometimes had a strange side effect: Very light areas, such as the face, or light clothing, had a tendency to lose the details -- and sometimes disappear altogether.

On some of these pictures (not all), the dreaded "fade-out" syndrome would hit those extremely light portions within a relatively short time, but leave the darker areas untouched. Even the once delineated summit-line of Mt. Fuji has reached a touch-and-go point in this image.

And our poor fellow on the horse, whose head was wrapped in a white winter "turban towel", just happened to line himself (and his neck) directly with the slope of the hill behind him. It was only a matter of time before he.....well, before he LOST HIS HEAD !.

Another mountain

I've been travelling to Hobart pretty regularly since November 2003, mostly to make art. Last week I finally got to show my work in Tasmania at CAST gallery.

When I was down there last week I had a very odd realisation- Mt Wellington was my first "Mt Fuji". It's shape is completely different but the way it's celebrated in art history and how you watch it is similar.

From the moment it greets you as you come over the ridge from the airport it shapes your experience of the city and the weather.

You search for views out of hotel windows, friends balconies,

check its peak to gage the weather,

admire its many moods.

I'm not the only one who has had this association. Below is a electrical street box near Parliament House.

Perhaps my attraction to Mt Wellington had primed me for my Fuji obsession and certainly if I lived in Hobart I would want to at least have one window that had a view towards the mountain (although not in the valley of South Hobart where you are in the shadow of the peak and some houses do not get any direct sunlight for six months). Also, I keep saying one day I will climb from the base to the summit- instead of the usual walk across heathland.

My story with Tasmania is starting a new chapter as I will mostly be travelling to Launceston for the next 6 months and after that I hope to have a break from the south and spend some time in the dry centre, or wet north.

Illustrated fuji

Bigger image on flickr

Fuji on the side of Illustrated Man- one of Sydney's oldest and most famous tattoo parlors- disappearing behind a security screen door.
I would be curious to see who has a Fuji tattoo. As most tattoos are made to memorialise a person or event, I'm interested in what exactly they were associating with the mountain?

There is one photo of a Fuji tattoo on the Illustrated Man website gallery. The shape of the mountain is totally wrong, and the file was called "Wave", which I find interesting as I suspect that being a beach culture, most people in Australia focus on the energy of the wave not the stillness of the mountain. Oddly the boat is in the tattoo but not the occupants.

"Wave" tattoo by Elliot

When I see this witches hat Fuji I think of the wonderful quote that Project Hyakumeizan posted recently from the Nihon Hyakumeizan (One Hundred Mountains of Japan) by Fukada Kyūya (1964) who in turn is quoting Kojima Usui:

this arc, slanting, somewhat steeply yet always in an easy, serene, almost carefree way, across a flawless sky

That curve and flat roofed peak is so perfect and calming to gaze upon, in fact its shape is everything- which makes me think that its inclusion in tattoo above is an after thought rather than its motivation.

On one of the entries on the British Museum database there is a quote by an artist describing how getting the perfection of Fuji's shape as a lifetimes work- I found it one night while procrastinating and now have no hope of remembering which of the 619 entries it was.

Update:

I just had another look at my post about Sarah's shoes (I link to it above) and just noticed that the Fuji on the bottom of her shoe is also a witches hat. Time for a new tag I think...

trademarks and grey clouds

I have been spending the evenings half watching television and looking through museum digital databases for Fuji-san images. This is a 1949 calender published by Fujisawa Pharmaceutical Company and is in the British Museum. The upward-looking composition with a solitary grey cloud in a large field of pink sky creates a striking image. This feeling is given an uncanny twist with the unusually placed heads of the two female "Americans" right along the base of the image, as though they were humpty-dumpty on the edge of a wall, or body-less phantoms.

I was wondering whether it had been mislabeled as a Fuji image till I enlarged the image and saw the companies logo.

The woodcut print is titled Ginza no tasogare-doki - Dusk in Ginza and is by the artist Onchi Koshiro. On the back there is printed a haunting melancohic text written by the artist, each line rich in poetic imagery.

A suit and one grey painting brush are sufficient. The neon of the PX is still like a dream. The new culture of Japan comes flashing from those sharp words. When one walks here, there comes a feeling that the days when we were struck to the ground are already from a distant world. Probably everybody would like quickly to wash away their hateful memories. The narrow pavements make our shoulders rub together. Through this congestion tall Americans stride. Already there is a sort of magnificence here, but the truth is that Japan is under Occupation. It is not necessary to wait for dusk. People have already lost sight of themselves.


There are 445 Onchi pieces in the Museum's collection, unfortunately most of it is not digitally archived but there are a few more Fuji pieces to save for a another post.

Update:

The store in the image is the Tokyo PX, the post office and stores for American servicemen, then located in the Wako Store in Ginza. Ginza was the fashionable going out district in post -war Tokyo

I don't know how I missed this detail before in the notes but the use of Mt Fuji in the logo above is a pun, as the character used for Fujisawa Pharmaceutical has nothing to do with the mountain. The writer of the object notes also comments that the Fugaku Publishing company, which published the calender and other works by Onchi and other post war print artists also uses Fuji in the logo- Unfortunately I couldn't find a scan on the interweb of their logo- only expensive rare books...

Update #2:
Lawrence Smith speculates that Onchi poetic text was for a Japanese audience as it was printed in Japanese only, which was unusual during the period of American occupation.

in all seasons

After I made the decision to start a project about Mt Fuji, February started and it was one cloudy or grey day after another. The above photo is taken from my kitchen in Shibuya. I had been thinking mostly about seeing Fuji was different locations, not particularly seeing different weather phenomena, although that certainly becomes a theme when you start obsessively trying to see it daily and looking at artistic representations of the mountain.

One of the artist projects that has particularly resonated with the desire to observe and record is a scroll by Minamoto Sadayoshi. Started in the early spring of 1818, after a heavy snow fall, he records Mt Fuji's receding snow line and other weather phenomena twice a month, at the beginning and the middle. Apart from this scroll there is not much know about the artist. I found the reference to it in Timothy Clarke's catalogue 100 Views of Mount Fuji, held at the British Museum in 2001. The inscription on the front panel of the scroll is:

Thirty-one views of summit of Mt Fuji, seen from the west in all seasons

The west side is opposite side to Tokyo and Mt Hoei is visible on the right hand side. The mountain's silhouette is almost the same as the view from the shinkansen.

The above panel is one of seven additional panels included in the scroll, of unusual weather phenomena and is of a cloud formation known as a 'travelling hat' formation. I am wondering whether the cloud on the diamond Fuji postcard is a travelling hat. The cloud depicted here looks really solid with a definite cone shape, rather than the misty halo on the postcard.

I didn't trim the photo above as I particularly like the museum archiving around the painting: the ruler, accession number, and colour chart; and the teasing edges of the next drawing. Unfortunately this is the only image from the scroll on the digital database.

Diamond Fuji wishes

for your Valentines Day

The Lonely Planets guide to Hiking in Japan was my first point of contact about the craze of Fuji-viewing. Along with learning about nori-mono from this source, they also mentioned the Diamond Fuji phenomena:

For romantic spotters in Tokyo, 14 February (Valentine's Day) is the best day to see Fuji-san, 100kms away, with the sun going down directly behind its dish shaped peak. At the exact moment the sun dips behind the summit its rays appear as a giant diamond sitting on top of the mountain. The ultimate viewing point is from the top of the Ferris wheel at trendy Odaiba, but be warned, your planning and timing mist be better than good to spot this very special 'diamond Fuji' moment.

I didn't even try to see Fuji last Valentines Day as just about the whole of February was a consistent grey.

From youtube a series of shorts:
This one is of a Double Diamond (shot on the Red camera- resolution is amazing) rising sun with a reflection in one of the Lakes near the mountain, and this one of the sun setting by the same film makers at Lake Yamanaka; and finally another one from with a view from Tokyo city centre. The first one is the best to get a sense of what it must be like to see it.

This one is much lower resolution but it shows really well the sun setting exactly on the crest, the effect of the light and the view the mountain through the humidity and haze from Tokyo city.

Fujiyama Journal posted a beautiful shot yesterday with the snow covering the valley floor as well as the mountain down to the tree line.

Dear Fuji, my heart is broken that I wont see you this year, but I know you will be there waiting for me.

new blog on the list

One Hundred Mountains is blog about the Japanese Alps, about climbing them now and the cultural history of climbing, in particular the book "Nihon Hyakumeizan" written by Fukada Kyūya about Japan's 100 famous mountains over 2,000 feet. (I have climbed two, one being Yufu-dake)


They have a great cartoon on today's post that anthropomorphises the mountains of Japan. The cartoon shows a detail of the island of Honshu with Fuji at the centre.

a question answered

When I was in Japan in the first part of last year, I came across these wonderful Fuji stickers. I guessed that the red Fuji was for sunset or sunrise, and that the hawks where something do with the birds you usually see once you are up at that altitude, but for the life of me I could not work out what the eggplants where for. The mystery remained unsolved till I came home from my second trip in September and my dear friend Anna lent me a book- 100 views of Mount Fuji by Timothy Clark which is a catalogue that accompanied an exhibition of works mostly from the British Museum's collection. (this is not a very good review but is more or less summarises parts of the book)

The following information included in relation to a print "Three Lucky Dreams of the New Year" by Koryusai-ga. (Without the explanation I would have thought the print to be of two women, but it's a young man is holding the hawk.) There is an expression for good luck dreams on the New Year:

One Fuji, two hawk, three aubergine

Ichi Fuji, ni taka, san nasubi

Which I why I guess there are two hawks an three eggplants- Not sure if there is a significance to the 21 Mount Fuji's- Any ideas? The text is a good mix between scholarly writing and accessible information. Clark gives a good description of the work and also footnotes where you can chase up additional information or facts that back his options. The following quote has footnotes but I wont include them here.

The saying is said to list the famous products of Suruga Province, or alternatively, in a version attributed to Tokugawa Ieyasu, the three highest things in Suruga Province : Mt Fuji, Mt Ashitaka (sounds like taka, hawk) and the exorbitant price of the earliest aubergines of the season.

The generic 'taka' is used in the name of two Japanese birds- O-taka: Northern Goshawk (Accipter gentilis), which I saw at Oi-Yacho Koen; and Hai-taka: European Sparrow Hawk (Accipter nisus). There is also another Accipter: gularis: Japanese Lesser Sparrow Hawk, but in Japanese it does not have "taka" in its common name: Tsumi. (in case you stumbled upon this blog via Fuji searches or Shunga mostly likely- I also have another blog that has covers my nature interests and birdwatching- Tokyo Bird Song)

wrapped

It's wednesday again already!

Another from my archive, gifted wrapped for Abi

Out the window and on a screen

Two Shunga views
Kunisada "Playing cards"

and
One attributed to Toyoshige from an album of 12 lovers in front of decorative screens. This series has a wonderful scene within an scene framing of the screens- but only one of Fuji.

Both images from Ukiyo-e Gallery from thier shunga gallery. They have quiet a large selection of images- more available here than from some museum websites. Their descriptions of the condition of the prints can be quiet amusing such as this one for Utamaro, "The kiss":

Very Good. Excellent colors. Margins trimmed; very minor soiling.

or Kunisada II, "Two couples under a blue umbrella" :

Exceptionally clean for "shunga."

There is some information on each print but quiet enough, wiki commons also has quiet a lot of images but also not so much information. Anyone know of a good scholarly texts on this art form?

A secret glimpse

It's dangerous, but I have taken up op-shopping again. I have managed to break (or manage) my addiction for 4 years. But perhaps because I have the difficult job of writing my thesis paper, combined with a hard to find object (Ken Done for this project), coupled with a gamblers luck or finding some nice designer pieces (Dior and Ralph Lauren shirts, YLS, Hermes and Zenga ties), and the addiction is back in full swing. Yesterday when I was in a local op-shop sorting and scanning through the approximately 50 ties in the back for The Done when I spotted this odd design. It's not the sort of tie I would necessary buy- I am collecting stripes and checks at the moment, but it's odd set of colours and patterns, and unusual tag raised a question mark in my mind.

Fancy indeed! The label was making this it was an unusual tie- as the shape of the tag, as well as the name, was a little unconventional. As I was disentangling it from the masses of ties around it, I notice that the lining fabric was also a little out of the ordinary:

There appeared to be a drawing of a girl inside- a beek-a-boo tie. I have only seen one these type of ties- an American 1950's tie with a Alberto Vargas-esque pin-up girl, so thought it might have been a 'rip-off' with the lining badly placed.

(This is the best site I have found for vintage beek-a-boo, scroll down to find your favourite Hawaiian, Irish red head, Leopard skin glad brunette, or Jayne Mansfield or this contemporary one where you can shop via tie design or model.)

Of course I bought it- that's my problem with op-shopping, anything I can't work out I have to buy. That way I can think about it more or show it to people. When I got it home I realised that the factory thread holding the 'top' of the triangle was still in place and when cut, the tie open to reveal:

Shunga!

It's quiet an erotic thing to part the flaps to get the view of your secret picture. I noticed that there was a view out the window behind the couple and when I turn the tongue almost inside out, low and behold Fuji-yama came into view.

When I first saw it I thought the figures a little clumsy, but anatomical correctness is not really a feature of shunga prints. On closer inspection there is you can see that there is quiet a bit of detail and that the hands are a beautiful shape and that her toes are curled in the conventional sign of pleasure. These things make me think that it is either copied from an existing shunga or that it has been drawn and designed by an artist/designer. I have searched for a print it might have come from but have failed to find something similar. It has some formal elements that make it like a modest bijin-ga by Hiroshige:

such as the patterns of the fabrics against a plain background, with geometrical furniture motifs defining the pictorial space. Although this peek-a-boo seems a bit too modest for a Hiroshige shunga woodcut- but then again the decorative pattern around the image on the tie is reminiscent of the border feature in Hiroshige shunga volumes.

Unusually for most of the peek-a-boo ties I have encountered in this research, this one also has an image in the tie small end.

This looks like it might have been copied from a Torii Kiyonaga bathhouse print, or influence by his “Women in a bathhouse”.

There are also versions of this print where the man peeping through the small square window on the left is not there- although the doorway and window remain.

This object is saying 'Beppu' to me.

I think it might have been made as a souvenir for American marines on 'R & R' in this onsen and 'comfort' city for the following reasons:

• The ties overall shape and design is reminiscent of the American "Bold Look": wide, with deco patterning and the era when girlie ties became popular.

• The colours and pattens are very similar to ties I saw in Beppu that where still in there wrappers in dusty old stores run by ancient women in the cities post-war covered arcades

• The bathing and courtesan themes of the peek-a-boo, promote the two big industries of Beppu- hot springs and brothels.

• Fuji, is this instance, symbolises Japan rather than indicates a location.

Fuji was in my room at Beppu anyway.

Visiting Beppu, and the Beppu Art Projects, was one of the highlights of my trip in March. Thank you Takayuki for sending me there!

In celebration of Japanese erotic bijin-ga check out my friend Fuyumi Namioka's show of Araki at Lugnao.

Update: Fuyumi's show is part larger group of exhibitions and events under the title of Nippon, which includes an exhibition of shunga - this is a link to a small pdf catalogue.
Update #2: Jane's Year of Denim is having a 'suited' return including a 70's beek-a-boo!

summer sightings

I had no luck seeing a summer blue Fuji, but this image of an August sunrise, from the blog Climb Fujiyama by gives you an idea about how magjestic a close up view would have been. I really like this blog. I get a buzz thinking about how the mountain looks like that today, on days when my checking matches a posting.

Just about everything is seasonal in Japan, from clothing to stationary, postcards, food treats and the wonderful wrapping cloths. The re-occuring images for late sticky summer where fireworks, dragonflies, fans, lanterns and Blue Fuji.

Fuji is of course everywhere- although the season on billoards seems to be always early or mid Spring.

Was I blind??

On my first trip to Tokyo, about five days after I saw Fuji for the first time, I went to meet Andre in his part of town- Ilabashi. We walked around and visited some temples, and he took me to his local Buddhist temple. I said some prayers there and on my way home to Sydney, three months later, it was the place I said my last prayers too. On both of those occasions I don't remember seeing a golden Fuji in front of the box where you chuck in your coins so I was completely surprised when I went to say my prayers on my first day in Tokyo, on this second trip, that I was facing a very large golden Fuji.

I had to take this image from afar as you are not allow to take photos in the temple.

Stillness and movement- Sarah's soles

Bought at ABC Mart in Tokyo, Sarah's shoes are the largest men's size. She said a shop assistant ran from the Shinjuku store she was in, a couple of blocks and back to bring her the right size. I love the concentric circles round the sun.

The Great Wave off Kanagawa 神奈川沖浪裏 Kanagawa-oki nami-ura, certainly the most famous of Hokusai 36 views. I read somewhere that it's beauty is based on the balance of the movement of the waves against the stillness of Fuji. It's funny but I can't ever remember seeing Mt Fuji in the work until I saw in in Tokyo. Although this might be because I haven't really been much of a Nipponofile until going there and certainly wasn't interested in Fuji. I like the literal translation of the title suggested at Wikipedia, it seems to fit the image of Sarah's shoe well. "Off Kanagawa, the back (or underside) of a wave."

Enoshima (Kanagawa) waves where pretty low the times I was there but the water was still full of full body wet suited surfers. They where on sitting on their submerged boards, looking out to sea. From a distance I though they where flocks of cormorants.

Update:

After a very exciting weekend at the 7th printmaking symposium I got onto the blog printeresting, thanks to the beautiful Rebecca Mayo, they also have a little story about the Great Wave shoes.

Fuji is with me all the time

I often exchange it for lunch or paper and pens. I love the pattern and detail of the border and "negative" space.

Asakusa onsen

I haven’t blog about this Fuji experience yet. And rushing now to get out the door of the couch surfed place so will update… yes yes…

stamp 2

Takao-san- I still owe the entry for this one

Fuji is in my room in Beppu

and there is no way you can see it from here. Although there is a Fuji-look-alike here- I only just worked that out this afternoon in an onsen selling Beppu postcards- I will have to find some more out- there is no mention in my hiking book. Any ideas or local knowledge out there?

UPDATE: I there is a look-a-like in Beppu but this view is probably of Fuji- or another look-a-like.

UPDATE #2: The title of this print is: The lake of Hakone in Sagami Province, and it's one of The 36 views of Mt Fuji by Hokusai.

A speeding Bullet-

heading for Hiroshima. After staying up the whole night to pack up my flat and studio, I made a dash for the last possible connection to make the first Shinkasen for Hiroshima. The idea was to maximise my chances to see Fuji. It was pretty early and probably half an hour more would have given bluer skies but here is a lot of cloud around today so later might have been worse- I think the guessing and acquiring of the viewing knowledge is what fascinates me about Fuji –viewing.

Not far into the trip- just after the official announcements- one being that you could use wireless on the train- the first views of Fuji appeared after coming out of a tunnel.

I was so excited about the wireless, that I could blog seeing Fuji in the moment, that I almost missed the first viewing point. As it turned out you needed a Japanese account to use the internet- and I was so cross eyed with tiredness that I had to sleep.

The second view is again coming out a tunnel and the mountain profile at this point immediately reminded me of this Hokusai print- Fuji in the spring breeze (?) Not sure will have to look it up and correct this.

I didn't know that Fuji had a hump. One of the mysterious things about Fuji is its hard to orient where you are in relation to it, from it's profile- maybe this is just because I don't know it.

Pretty sure the last point is disappearing into a tunnel too- although I was pretty delirious so who knows.

Update: the Hokusai print is called Red Fuji or Mount Fuji in Clear Weather .

Peter's meshi

I see Fuji everywhere.

I go to a contemporary art exhibition and buy postcards of woodcuts depicting Fuji.

At the first open day at Tokyo Wonder-site I meant Peter Bellars. When he offered me a choice of the various images on his business card, I choose this Fuji sunset. I think it's in Hakone (maybe Moto-Hakone?) near Lake Ashi. At this stage I didn't know how addicted I would become to seeing the volcanic mountain.