Japanese prints, still-lives, humorous poems and pots
Part two of my series about poetry and pottery takes us to Japan.
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As I hit
The depths of loneliness,
I shake the sake flask
But still there is no sound
In the spring drizzle at the innThis poem appears on a Japanese print created by artist Yashima Gatukei around 18231. The print features a colorful bowl filled with floating blossoms sitting next to a plum branch. Behind the bowl we see a bottle containing plum wine. The bottle, an iron-rich unglazed Bizen-ware, is placed behind a glazed Chinese-style bowl. In the background, a sword and just above, six poems.2
This print is a beautiful example of surimono, which in Japanese means simply “a printed thing”. Surimono, however, is a term used to describe wood-block prints created to be exchanged as private gifts for the New Year celebrations. There are a variety of surimono types, but the one we will be looking at here are the so-called kyōka surimono: prints featuring kyōka poems that were used as gifts among members of poetry clubs in the 19th century.
Kyōka, which means “humorous poem”, is a genre of Japanese poetry composed of 31 syllables divided into 5 segments (5-7-5-7-7).3. Kyōka is a parody of classic Japanese poems (tanka), which are usually concerned with the serious contemplation of nature and human emotions.4 Kyōka, on the other hand, are playful and sometimes satirical and require the reader to untangle their hidden meanings.5
Kyōka poems were very popular during the Edo period (1615-1868), a time of peace but marked by heavy government censorship, which private prints such as these could to some extent escape as they were not meant for commercial circulation.6 Poetry clubs at the time were remarkable in that they were frequented by people from all classes, from samurai to townspeople.7
Still lives and poetry
Whenever I see an image of a pot on a painting or print, I wonder about the choice to include that specific pot: does it immortalise the feeling of home, of tradition, of craftsmanship? Is it a piece that is dear to the recipient or the artist? Does it communicate to us that this is an object we should aspire to own?
A good portion of surimono pictured still-lives scenes. The term still-lives derives from the Dutch term “still-leven”, immobile nature, to be distinguished from humans and animals, which could move autonomously.8 Still-lives scenes are often very meticulously constructed.
Objects depicted in still-lives communicate something about the scene and the characters in it. They can even be placed to have a specific effect on the viewer. During the Renaissance in Italy, for instance, it was believed that images depicting flowers and fruits, if properly placed within a home, could foster health and ward off disease.9 This custom was particularly strong at times of epidemics, such as the bubonic plague, which was believed to be the result of “corrupt air”, damp and hot air brought in by southerly winds.10
Surimono were gifted for the New Year’s celebrations, at a time of renewal and beginnings.
In an essay about surimono as ritual objects, Daniel McKee points out that
anthropologists have noted that gift-giving at the end or beginning of the year is a universal phenomenon, and ascribed it to the insecurities related to the rupture in time. So that good relationships are carried over the year-break and are not forgotten, people demonstrate their care for one another with presentations of valued objects.11
Kyōka surimono go beyond representations of gifts or auspicious objects: they are riddles that recipients had to decipher.12 The plum which we see depicted in the print above, carries a meaning of renewal and hope within Japanese culture and is associated with the New Year’s celebrations. It is shown alongside a pot from the Bizen province and a sword, both typical products of the Bizen region. (The print itself is, after all, part of a series named “Two Famous Products from Bizen Province”).
Bizen pottery has ancient roots. Bizen ceramics, made in the region by the same name, are produced from local clays and fired, unglazed, to high temperatures. The kiln firing takes up to two weeks, reaching 1200C, and the final work is red-brown with beautiful unpredictable textures achieved through the wood-firing process.
Bizen pottery is still made today and contemporary Bizen artists are pushing the art form while maintaining its traditional roots.
We could say that the pot simply represents a typical local product, but it is also a vessel imbued with cultural meaning within the context of the superimposed poems. Some of these poems subtly reference the Tale of Genji, an ancient text of great cultural importance in Japan, written in the 11th century by Murasaki Shikibu, a lady in waiting at the Imperial court.
Another beautiful example of the subtle dance between objects and words and the importance of interpretation, is the 1822 print by Katsushika Hokusai, “Sōma Ware (Sōma yaki)”, from the series Horse Compendium.
This print has the characteristic soothing colors, with browns, yellows and blues. The accompanying poem13 reads:
Just like grass buds
in right shooting out of light snow,
the freshness of tea,
ah the best kind
the "New-Old" teaThe print features a cup with an image of a galloping horse, a typical example of a Soma pot. Soma-ware (Obori Somayaki Sama Ware) originated in the 1690s in the Obori area, Fukushima prefecture, and are still made to this day. Soma pots were mostly made of porcelain and were originally manufactured for the local feudal lord Soma, although they quickly gained popularity among the general population.
In the 1830s, the pots started featuring illustrations of wild horses, after the lord Soma’s family crest.14 The wild horses, which are generally considered as a good omen and giver of good fortune, are hand-drawn on bisqued porcelain and stoneware. Some Soma ware feature crazed celadon glazes, and some of these pots are double-walled, so that the user can comfortably sip hot tea without burning their hands.
Hokusai’s surimono is a beautiful example of complex composition and the use of language to convey many meanings. 1822, when the print was made, was the Year of the Horse. The poem references a tea ceremony, the drinking of hatsu-mukashi tea (the old-new tea) which is a green tea. Hatsu-mukashi tea, however, is not prepared with a tea pot and so, upon first look, the objects don’t make sense all together.15 According to Sadako Ohki of the Yale University Art Gallery, the print can only be deciphered by analysing the Japanese verb kakeru, which can be written in different ways, all homophones.16 It means “to run fast”, much like the wild horses, “to apply glazing over a pot painted in blue designs”, which calls back to the closed pot behind the tea bowl, and to “place an object over another”, like the chopsticks over the Soma bowl, or even “to place a kettle over the fire”, which calls back the kettle we see in the print.17
When seen in this context, surimono brings together various elements of cultural significance that can only be understood with a deep knowledge of the Japanese language. It makes some sense that prints that were used as gifts for poetry club participants would feature word-games and riddles. What better audience to deeply engage with language if not poets?
Translation found in “Reading Surimono: the interplay of text and image in Japanese prints. With a catalogue of the Marino Lusy Collection”, Edited by John T. Carpenter, Hotei Publishing, 2008. p.166
Ibid
Hiroko Takanashi, “Orthographic puns: The case of Japanese kyoka”, in Humor 20–3 (2007), 235–259, p.237
ibid
ibid
On the topic of censorship during the Edo period, see https://blogs.loc.gov/international-collections/2018/04/japanese-censorship-collection-at-the-library-of-congress/
Mary Redfern, “Pots for poets: Ceramics Up-Close in Japanese Prints, including Hokusai’s Everything Concerning Horses”, in Pots, prints and politics: Ceramics with an Agenda, from the 14th to the 20th Century, Edited by Patricia F. Ferguson, The British Museum, 2021, p.124
Mary D. Garrard, “The Not-So-Still Lifes of Giovanna Garzoni“ in, The immensity of the universe in the art of Giovanna Garzoni, Exhibition catalogue, edited by Sheila Barker, Florence, Gallerie degli Uffizi, Palazzo Pitti, Andito degli Angiolini 2020, p.64
Ibid, p.62
ibid, p.63
Damiel McKee, Surimono as ritual objects: Celebrating the New Year in word and image, in “Reading Surimono: the interplay of text and image in Japanese prints. With a catalogue of the Marino Lusy Collection”, Edited by John T. Carpenter, Hotei Publishing, 2008, p.43
Ibid, p.44
There are many translations of this poem. I am referring to the translating provided by the Yale University Gallery under https://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/220034 accessed March 2nd 2025.
Matsunaga, History, at https://soma-yaki.com/en/history/ accessed March 2nd 2025.
See Yale University Gallery, cited above. The interpretation of this print was presented by SADAKO OHKI, Japan Foundation Associate Curator of Japanese Art, Yale University Art Gallery in the 2021 Zoom Gallery Talk https://youtu.be/CMQj7GhP5eI?si=2kcBcqLKj_ba5qBZ, accessed March 2nd 2025.
Ibid
Ibid
Loved it- fantastic video too- clay is life