When the West was East
WAM looks at the European influence of Japan's Meji period<
by Leon Nigrosh
TERRIFIC TOKYO: A PANORAMA IN PRINTS At the Worcester Art
museum, 55 Salisbury Street, through July 4.]
Examples of Japan's isolation are legion. From repelling attacks by
Mongol neighbors to thwarting unsuccessful
attempts by Europeans to bring Catholicism to this remote island nation,
Japan's leaders, from the 6th to early 20th centuries, shut out the world --
for the most part. It is the brief time when the Japanese embraced all things
Western, from 1868 to 1936, on which the Worcester Art Museum concentrates in
its new "Terrific Tokyo" exhibit, which opens this weekend. Prints, paintings,
and sculptures completed during the Meji and Taisho periods (1868 to 1926)
provide a glimpse of what it was like to witness a Tokyo transformed. Once a
large yet desolate town governed by military rule, Tokyo under the Meji ushered
in an era fueled by gas and electricity and filled with Western fashions, and
home to movie houses, and, of course, a backdrop for the artists who flocked
here to study ancient printing techniques that captured a modern landscape.
Fifty woodblock prints were chosen from WAM's permanent collection by curator
Elizabeth de Sabato Swinton, who added triptychs lent by the Jean S. and
Frederic A. Sharf Collection to the selection.
The works, produced for the new tourist trade, depict a blooming Japan, after
the Tokugawa shogunate (1603 to 1867) had been brought down and replaced by the
Emperor Meiji, who came to power as 14-year-old and who eventually oversaw the
country's greatest expansion of the arts, literature, and music. The emperor
helped organize a democratic government body (the Diet) modeled after British
parliamentary, encouraged public education for all children, and saw to it that
the latest industrial advances were incorporated into the country's
infrastructure.
All of these dramatic changes influenced the Japanese artists of the day, and
many of them began to illustrate nishiki-e, or "brocade pictures," which
were a cooperative effort, combining the work of publishers, artists,
engravers, and printers to bring handmade work to completion.
One such work, drawn by the prolific artist Ando Hiroshige III (1843-1894) and
published by Wakasaya Jingoro, is the triptych Illustration of the Tsukiji
Hotel, Tokyo produced in 1869. This four-foot-long, colorful image
shows the exterior of a new hotel designed in a Western style but decorated
with traditional Japanese ceramic tile laid on the diagonal. American and
British flags, prominently featured, are indicators of Tokyo's cosmopolitan
atmosphere. People in Western garb, along with Chinese in their unique garments
and Japanese women in traditional kimonos and geta (wooden platform
sandals), are depicted strolling on the wide promenade.
Another print by Hiroshige III shows a view of the Ginza Bricktown (the most
prominent boulevard in Tokyo during the Meji), built after the great 1872 fire
that nearly destroyed Tokyo. British architect Thomas Waters designed this
first Western-style thoroughfare (modeled after London's Regent Street), and
the print shows horse-drawn trolleys competing with rickshaws on the wide
street. Compare this print with the one produced by Koeisai only eight years
later, and you will see how quickly the locals reverted to more traditional
architectural styles, with only one brick building in sight.
Nationalist pride reached incredible heights during the Meji Restoration, and
that's obvious in two prints made in the early 1890s to commemorate the opening
of the newly formed Japanese parliament. One, by Adachi Ginko (active
1874-'97), shows the exterior of the hastily constructed temporary Diet
building and features the arrival of the emperor's cortege. Remarkably, the
commoners lining the streets are seen standing; prior to the enlightened rule,
all subjects had to prostrate themselves face down whenever the emperor passed
by. The second print, by Baido Kokunimasu (1868-1912), shows the interior of
the Diet, with serious government officials dressed in Western-style
clothing.
Not all of these commemorative prints were entirely truthful in their
representation of actual events. Watanabe Nobukazu's (1874-1944) brilliantly
colored triptych Illustration of the Emperor Leaving the Palace for a Short
Trip To Attend a Troop Review at Aoyama depicts a British-built, scarlet
colored, gilt-trimmed carriage, but, in a show of patriotic spirit, the artist
has the emperor and his wife, Haru-ko, riding side by side in the coach -- just
like the British royal family. In truth, the Japanese royal couple always
attended important events separately, often on successive days.
While these colorful and complex prints were being churned out to celebrate
the new, modern Japan, another style of print was being produced that carried
the same message but was more subdued. Kobayashi Kiyochika (1847-1915) worked
almost exclusively in shades of black and gray, though he allowed tiny dots of
color to intrude when appropriate. His Nihonbashi at Night is a view of
the street at night. Pedestrians line the sidewalks as rickshaws and omnibuses
fill the roadway, all in the shadows except for the occasional small lantern
carried by a stroller or rickshaw runner. Kiyochika shows us the new Toyko with
his deft perspective handling of the gas streetlights.
In his Fireworks at Ikenokata Kiyochika again places his figures in
deep silhouette, with two boys in a tree above the crowd. Within this
traditional scene, he includes the strings of electric lights that outline the
distant exposition grounds. His Evening Along the Sumida is executed in
the same fashion, drawing light reflected from the river to silhouette a man in
traditional robes and a derby, along with a woman in kimono and obi. On
the distant shore are factory chimneys and tiny windows illuminated by
electric light.
After the close of the Meiji era and Taisho period (which abruptly came to an
end because of the Great Depression that came on the heels of the devastating
earthquake of September 1, 1923), a number of Japanese artists began to adopt a
new style of printmaking, often carving and printing their works themselves.
Well aware of the paintings by French Impressionist Claude Monet (1840-1926),
Yoshida Hiroshi (1876-1950) created a series of prints of the Sumida River at
different times of the day. Using the same carved blocks, he changed the colors
and the textures to create distinct moods and lighting effects in each.
Other artists like Kawakami Sumio (1895-1972) began to use their cutting
gouges in a more expressive manner to create rough-looking, blocky compositions
like Night at Ginza. The most recent print to be included in this
exhibit was hand-cut and self-printed by Koizumi Kishio in 1936. It depicts the
red gate at the Imperial University where the Tokugawa shogun's daughter went
in 1827. Although the shoguns -- and the Meiji -- have passed into history, the
red gate remains a reminder of the past. In Kishio's print, the gate is almost
totally obscured by the falling snow, an image symbolic of an era never to be
retrieved. Not long after this print was produced, militarism raised its head
in Japan, and another peaceful era came to an end.
This exhibit offers an opportunity to see classic Japanese woodblock prints,
many of which have not been shown publicly. The proficiency of the artists and
printmakers -- the intricate carving, the meticulous color registration, and
the compositional complexity -- should be marveled at and appreciated, because
the scenes they depicted change our understanding of what many still feel is an
exotic culture. It portrays Tokyo's inhabitants as contemporaries with their
European and American counterparts. Flappers and motorcars compete for
attention with trains and electric lights, all of which made Tokyo terrific.
The museum is open Wednesday through Sunday from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. and
Saturday from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Call 799-4406.