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Overview
This Japanese woodblock print is a good example of surimono, limited-edition, privately commissioned prints which are finely crafted; smaller than an ōban, they often combine verse and image in complementary arrangements. The seemingly inconsequential subject matter of a draped ox-cart by Utagawa Toyohiro (1773–1828) was composed as a celebration of the New Year. The cart provided a popular mode of transport for the Heian court aristocracy – their kichō (curtains of state) or sudare (rolled reed blinds) and decorative swathes of ribbon allowed women to be conveyed in anonymity. The ox-cart and the kumogata mist across the top of the composition reminded Edo period viewers of classical literature like Genji monogatari or the great collections of verse that inspired so many surimono kyöka, or elegant 'wild verse' surimono. From Heian times, and well into the Edo period, the Genji and elegantly decorated ox-cart associations were synonymous with refined sensibilities of femininity.
Toyohiro's Edo public would have been familiar with these themes, whose significance had been much revived through the Tokugawa nineteenth-century kokugaku, 'national study', initiative. Kokugaku scholars sought to reinvigorate Japanese study of the national classics in verse, prose and historical texts. This informed the sophisticated historical and literary knowledge that educated chōnin could bring to their appreciations of works like this. Roger Keyes explains the context of the elegantly brushed kyöka at left in this composition, and provides translations of each. The first poem mentions the legend of Rosei, a poor Chinese traveller who fell asleep while his meal was being prepared at an inn in the village of Kantan, in China. Before he was served his meal, he dreamed of a lifetime of happiness, honour and prosperity. In the second poem, ‘the mother of the flowers’ is the rain. There is a pun on oru, 'to break', oriha, 'to alight', and oriori, 'sometimes':
Kantan no makura ni aranu yume samite eiga no hana ni niou ganjitsu
It was not until the dream of the pillow at Kantan, when I awoke from my dream on New Year’s Day, I smelled the flowers of prosperity Hana no Harundo
Waga yado no ume wa oranedo oriha ni wa oriori konomu hana no kakasama
Although she does not pluck the blossoms of my plum tree, the mother of the flowers alights to enjoy herself sometimes. (Sakuragawa Jihinari)
Sources:
David Bell and Mark Stocker, 'Rising sun at Te Papa: the Heriot Collection of Japanese Art', https://collections.tepapa.govt.nz/document/10608
Roger Keys, The Art of the Surimono... (London, 1985), p. 394.
Dr Mark Stocker Curator, Historical International Art May 2019