Masters of Art - Katsushika Hokusai
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Sketches from the first volume, detailing men and women from various walks of live
Scenes of nature from the first volume
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A coastal sketch from the first volume
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An instructional guide to wrestling from the third volume
Double page from the fourth volume
Designs from volume 8, depicting self-defense techniques
A fantastical beast from volume 10
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Portrait of Philipp Franz von Siebold by Kawahara Keiga, c. 1820. Siebold is largely responsible for introducing the Western world to Hokusai’s work.
Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife
The majority of ukiyo-e artists at some point in their career would have produced illustrated works in the shunga category, noted for its erotic content; Hokusai was no exception. Shunga was enjoyed by both men and women of all classes. It was considered a lucky charm against death for a samurai to carry shunga; it was also deemed to be a protection against fire in merchant warehouses and the home. Records of women obtaining shunga from book lenders show that they were also consumers of the genre. It was traditional to present a bride with ukiyo-e depicting erotic scenes from The Tale of Genji. Also, Shunga may have served as sexual guidance for the sons and daughters of wealthy families.
Hokusai produced over 10 erotic-themed volumes, beginning in the early days of his career in 1782 to beyond his time serving under the name Iitsu in c. 1823. His production of erotic albums intensified between 1810 and 1814, attaining a high level of quality in realism and its sensitivity of depiction. The volume Pine Seedlings on the First Rat Day, published in 1814, provides a striking example of Hokusai’s new portrayal of the human figure. Presented with much fuller and fleshier forms, these figures suggest a vigorous and powerful sensuality. The collection includes one of the artist’s most well-known shunga designs, Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife, also known by the title Diving Girl Ravished by Octopuses.
The theme of erotic encounters with women of the sea is an established convention of Japanese art and this notorious image of a sexual encounter with an octopus is certainly not the first time the theme had been handled by an ukiyo-e artist. The narrative was most likely inspired by an illustration in Kitao Shigemasa’s Programme of Erotic Noh Plays, dating to as early as 1781. Both Hokusai and Shigemasa’s treatment of the theme are possibly linked to the popular legend of Princess Tamatori, whose adventures included the successful recovery of a stolen pearl from the Dragon King. Encountering the dragon in his undersea lair, she tricks him into sleep with music, before stealing the pearl and swimming away. When the Dragon King discovers her ruse, he pursues the princess with his fleet of monstrous sea creatures. In an act of desperation, Tamatori cuts a hole in her breast and places the pearl inside, hoping to conceal it from recovery. This tragic act results in her death from the wound. In spite of the classical origins of Hokusai’s print, he produces a narrative of an entirely different and erotic atmosphere.
The design appeared in the third volume of the series and portrays an ama (a shell diver), spreading back in ecstasy, as two octopuses caress her naked body with their tentacles. The larger of the two mollusks performs anal sex on her, while the smaller one, his offspring, assists by fondling the woman’s mouth and nipple. The image has equalled repulsed and fascinated viewers since its first publication and continues to excite controversy today. Its unsettling nature is partly due to the female’s apparent helplessness, juxtaposed to the blank and alien eyes of the octopuses. If there is any doubt as to her consent, then this is at once dismissed by the Japanese text, taking up a large section of the image. The words are mostly comprised of her erotic instructions to the larger octopus, as she gasps with pleasure.
Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife has influenced later artists such as Félicien Rops, Auguste Rodin, Fernand Khnopff and Pablo Picasso. The latter painted his own version in 1903, which has been displayed beside Hokusai’s print, during an exhibit on the influence of Japanese art on Picasso’s work. In 2003, a derivative artwork by Australian painter David Laity, titled The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife, sparked a minor obscenity controversy when it was shown at a gallery in Melbourne. After receiving numerous complaints, the Melbourne police investigated and ultimately judged that it did not infringe the city’s anti-pornography laws. The composition is often cited as a forerunner of tentacle erotica, a motif that has been common in modern Japanese animation and manga since the late twentieth century, popularised by the author Toshio Maeda.
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Woodblock print by Utagawa Kuniyoshi, depicting Princess Tamatori’s escape from the Dragon King and his sea creatures, c. 1850
Another example of Hokusai’s erotic work: ‘Pregnant Lady’ (c. 1820) from the series ‘Kurawa no tanoshimi’
A Fisherman’s Family
When Hokusai turned 60 in 1820 he took on the name “Iitsu”, meaning “one-year-old again”. According to the Japanese custom, a child was considered to be already a one-year-old at birth. Therefore, after a full zodiac cycle, when all possible combinations of the 12 Chinese zodiac sings and the five elements is completed after 60 years, it was customary to regard yourself as being born again when turning 61, hence Hokusai’s use of the name Iitsu. At this time, the artist’s personal life was fraught with tragedy and so he was enthusiastic to embrace a new beginning.
Financial troubles continued to dog his enjoyment of life and the sudden death of one of his daughters in 1821 had a harrowing impact on his production. After being widowed for the second time in 1828, things turned worse when he was held responsible for his grandson’s gambling debts the following year, plunging the family’s resources into arrears. And yet things were only going to take a turn for the worse. Suddenly, Hokusai suffered a stroke, hindering his ability to paint for large portions of his time. However, relief would come from his third daughter, a successful artist known as Katsushika Oi (c. 1800-1866), who after an unfortunate divorce, returned to the family household, where she produced designs under her own name, as well as adding several important prints under her father’s name. Nevertheless, as Hokusai entered his Iitsu period, his finances were in difficulties and he would find support from the most unexpected of patrons.
It was to be a commission from a European investor that would ultimately support the artist’s dwindling resources, at a time when foreign presence in Edo faced much antagonism. In a systemised crackdown on Christianity, perceived by many as a threat to the shogun’s authority, the third shogun Tokugawa Iemitsu had expelled the Spanish and Portuguese traders from Japan by 1638. Yet the Dutch remained; compared to their European fellows, they had little interest in trying to convert the Japanese, favouring a secular approach to their interaction. They were far more interested in conducting business and making rare trades with the shogun, allowing them to import rare object and materials otherwise unknown to the West. Therefore, the Dutch had been allowed to stay, although they were still confined to Dejima, a man-made island constructed in Nagasaki, many miles distant from Edo. It was used to house foreign visitors and prevent their intermingling with the local populace.
It was in 1822 that Hokusai received an enticing and large commission of paintings from Jan Cock Blomhoff, the director of the Dutch trading port. Every four years, this master merchant was required to pay tribute to the shogun in Edo and so during his 1822 trip he amassed a vast array of objects that represented daily Japanese life. These were to be shipped back to the Royal Cabinet of Curiosities, situated in The Hague. During their collecting of artefacts and printed matter, they discovered the first ten volumes of Hokusai Manga and were intrigued by this unprecedented approach to sketchbook work. This resulted in Blomhoff and his Dutch colleagues arranging a meeting with Hokusai in an inn and the subsequent commission of a number of pictures to be completed by 1826, when they would be returning to attend their n
ext audience with the shogun. To aid him in the commission, Blomhoff provided the artist with several sheets of Dutch paper and several Dutch engravings.
Assisted by his daughter and his growing band of students, Hokusai completed 11 landscapes in a Western format, marking an important departure from his ukiyo-e style. Among these works was A Fisherman’s Family, produced on Dutch paper, and based on two small prints published 15 years before. This time the composition favours a far more naturalistic treatment. Hokusai lowers the horizon line and is preoccupied with spatial recession. This pictorial device concerns the relationship between objects that appear to be near to the viewer and those that seem further away, receding into space. The portrayal of the large rocks of the promontory to the far right of the image, as well as the extended forms of the fisherman and his family, compared to the distant, disappearing view of the other shoreline provide adequate examples of this device. Hokusai’s understanding of linear perspective, creating an illusion of depth on a flat surface, is revealed in his depiction of the cloud as a large mass of varying hues. The tonal gradations of the figures and the stones on the promontory also evoke a key understanding of the principles of modelling substantial forms, with lifelike shadows emphasising the illusion of presence.
In 1826 the Dutch returned to collect the commissioned works and Hokusai was not shy of haggling over the best price for his innovative creations. Eventually, the European traders purchased 11 works on Dutch paper for the Royal Cabinet of Curiosities. These paintings were later adapted into Philipp Franz von Siebold’s Nippon: A Descriptive Archive of Japan, destined to have an immense impact on the history of avant-garde art in Europe.
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Jan Cock Blomhoff with his son Johannes in the arms of Petronella Muns, a Dutch nurse-maid by an anonymous Japanese artist. Blomhoff (1779-1853) was the director of Dejima, the Dutch trading colony in the harbour of Nagasaki, from 1817 to 1824.
Hokusai’s daughter, Katsushika Oi by Tsuyuki Iitsu, c. 1840
Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji
This celebrated series of landscape prints depicts Mount Fuji from different locations in Edo and the surrounding area, portrayed in various seasons and weather conditions. The series of 36 prints was published in c. 1832 and due to its immense popularity, the publisher Nishimura Yohachi commissioned a further 10 prints to be added to the publication. At the time of production Hokusai was in his seventies and at the height of his career; his artwork was by no means diminished by his troubled health and advancing age. Of course, the series is famous today for containing the iconic design The Great Wave off Kanagawa, but all 46 prints have been cherished since their first publication – even by Hokusai’s great rival Hiroshige.
For centuries Mount Fuji was a popular subject for Japanese art due to its cultural and religious significance. This belief can be traced to The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, where a goddess stores the elixir of life on the peak. Fuji was seen as the source of the secret of immortality, a tradition likely at the heart of Hokusai’s own obsession with the scenic mountain. It was also held as sacred by Buddhist, Daoist and Shinto religions and for many it was even worshipped as a God.
Each of the designs in the series was produced through a process whereby an image drawn on paper was used to guide the carving of a wood block. This block was then covered with ink and applied to paper to make the image. The complexity and popularity of Hokusai’s designs were partly due to the broad range of colours he employed, requiring the use of a separate block for each colour appearing in the composition. The series is notable for its frequent use of costly blue dyes, derived from the indigo plant and known as Prussian Blue. This dye had been developed in Berlin in c. 1706 and imported to Japan by the mid-eighteenth century. Initially, it was incredibly expensive and it was rarely used, but by the nineteenth century, a much cheaper pigment was developed by the Chinese and introduced to the Japanese market, significantly reducing its cost. The dye became extremely popular for prints, as ukiyo-e artists could now achieve enhanced realism by including this important primary colour. The vivid blue tones allowed artists to portray depth and distance, giving ukiyo-e prints a new exotic appeal. Therefore, Hokusai and his publisher’s decision to feature Prussian Blue was a shrewd choice with far reaching consequences.
The 46 prints in the series principally concern the underlying theme of the monumental and unchanging power of nature, represented by the symbol of Mount Fuji, while reflecting on the transient and vulnerable state of humanity. The mountain remains still and dominant in each design, while set against a world of change. Yet, in spite of the shift of seasons, the interchange of night and day and the insignificant presence of man, the majesty and beauty of nature reigns supreme throughout all of the designs.
No. 4 in the series: Under Mannen Bridge at Fukagawa
No. 14 in the series: Senju, Musashi But
No. 12 in the series: Sunset across the Ryogoku Bridge from the bank of the Sumida River at Onmayagashi
No. 37 in the series: The Fuji from Kanaya on the Tokaido
No. 41 in the series: Inume Pass, Koshū
A block used to produce woodblock prints — Ukiyo-e workshop, Tsukuba, Japan
The Great Wave off Kanagawa
The most famous image of Eastern art, The Great Wave off Kanagawa originally appeared as the 21st print in Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji. The design represents three boats threatened by a large wave, as Mount Fuji rises in the background. Generally assumed to be a tsunami, the wave was probably only intended to be a large ocean wave, emphasising the defencelessness of man in the face of nature. The three boats have been interrupted in their journey transporting fish from the Izu and Boso peninsulas to the markets of the bay of Edo. The sea dominates the image, forming an extending wave on the verge of breaking. In one terrible moment of suspense, the wave forms a circle around the centre of the design, framing Mount Fuji in the background. In terror, the oarsmen flatten themselves against their boats, dreading the fatal calamity rising above them. The white section of cloud above the mountain echoes the shape of the wave, stressing the dominance of the great wave. Structured in a cyclic format, the entire design appears to rotate clockwise around Fuji, which is depicted low on the horizon, as though watching the danger from a safe distance. Intricate particles of spray seem to fall like snow over the mountain’s peak. The crest of the wave is depicted with claw-like forms, reminiscent of the octopus tentacles of Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife, giving the water a feral impression. We are left in no doubt as to the fate of the poor fishermen.
Hokusai most likely drew inspiration for The Great Wave off Kanagawa from Shiba Kokan’s A View of Seven-League Beach (1796), held on public display at a shrine in Edo at the time of publication. Yet Hokusai was already interested in the subject as far back as the beginning of his career, as seen in several Kabuki prints. The image of a towering wave recurs in designs throughout his oeuvre, occupying various formats, but always resurfacing — no doubt a tantalising theme that the artist struggled to forget. A notable example is View of Enoshima (1799), a surimono that features a similar scene, though omitting Mount Fuji.
The Great Wave off Kanagawa bears two inscriptions: the first is set within a rectangular cartouche in the top-left corner and translates as “Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji / Offshore from Kanagawa / Beneath the wave”. The second inscription, to the left, is the artist’s signature: ‘From the brush of Hokusai, changing his name to Iitsu’. As the series was exceptionally popular when first published, printing continued until the woodblocks started to show significant wear. It is believed that the original woodblocks printed around 5,000 copies. Given that many impressions have been lost, due to wars, earthquakes, fires and other natural disasters, few early impressions survive in which the lines of the woodblocks were still sharp at the time of printing. The remaining prints and subsequent reproductions vary considerably in quality and condition,
but a genuine early print can fetch an extremely high price at leading auction houses.
The influence of the print can be detected in endless media across the world. The design influenced Gustave Courbet’s exploration of wave forms in 60 paintings, while the French composer Claude Debussy retained a copy of the print in his office and reproduced its design on the cover of La mer. Vincent van Gogh, a great admirer of Hokusai, praised the quality of drawing, use of line and its ‘terrifying emotional impact.’ The French sculptor Camille Claudel’s La Vague (1897) replaces the boats in Hokusai’s design with sea-nymphs, creating an equally powerful scene of terrifying natural power. The BBC produced an informative documentary entitled The Great Wave, The Private Life of a Masterpiece (2004), exploring the fascination surrounding the work in both the East and West, its influence and Hokusai’s insights into a number of different areas, as revealed through the print.