Yoshitoshi

Between the 17th and early 18th centuries, there were no less than eleven famous courtesans in the pleasure quarters of Edo known under the name ‘Takao’. This print may depict the sixth Takao, who was celebrated for her literary skills. Hearing the lonely call of the cuckoo in the early morning, Takao imagines her lover’s boat landing at Komakata on his way back to the city after having visited her the previous night. The two accompanying poems pick up the theme of Takao’s verse and read as follows: A hundred grasses, longing for the summer dawn (by Tare of the Kitazato pleasure house) and By the bamboo window sewing a sleeveless robe (by Keikaen).

A casually dressed lady, probably a courtesan, lies languidly on the tatami mat of her room and gazes at shadows of pine branches on the veranda. The full moon mentioned in the title haiku by Tarakai Kikaku (1661–1707) is not depicted here, its presence instead suggested by the round shape of the fan as well as the shadows of the branches.

This print depicts the suicide of Chikako, who, in the mid 1850s, sacrificed her life in a vain attempt to secure her father’s release from prison. Her father Zeniya Gohei was a wealthy shipbuilder and entrepreneur who had been imprisoned after fishermen violently opposed his scheme to fill in a lake and turn it into rice fields.

Shijō refers to a restaurant area in Kyoto that is situated along the Kamo River. It was fashionable on a hot summer evening around the time of the full moon to sit by the river to cool off. This teahouse waitress is depicted relaxing at the end of a day. Her robe reveals glimpses of her red undergarment, which was seen as rather risqué at the time. The lamp beside her is emblazoned with the crest of her teahouse and her summer robe has the pattern of chidori (‘sea plovers’), the insignia of the geisha from Kyoto’s Pontochō entertainment district.

Kofuna no Gengo and Kōshi Hanzō are two small-time, not-very-smart crooks, who plot to steal an iron cauldron on a full moon night. As the pot is huge and heavy, they plan to break it into pieces with a mallet and a handsaw. The exaggerated long limbs and physiognomies of the two figures are reminiscent of the caricature sketches – manga – by the noted woodblock print master Katsushika Hokusai. They also continue an illustrative tradition begun by the 12th-century Abbot Toba of Kozan temple who is famous for his scrolls featuring caricatures of animals and people.

During the Edo period fires were a common occurrence and companies of firemen competed with each other. If property was saved, the company was rewarded. The fireman depicted here is a standard-bearer whose role is to ensure proper identification of the team fighting the fire. The fireman on the opposite rooftop in the lower left of the print holds a different standard representing a rival organisation. The smoke and flames have been given texture by splattering lime made from powdered chalk or sea shells, mixed with glue, onto the paper.

A courtesan, recognisable by her geta (very high clogs), is taking an evening walk to enjoy the cherry blossoms in moonlight with her kamuro (child attendant). Edo’s licensed pleasure quarter, the Yoshiwara, was famous for its central avenue lined on both sides with cherry trees, spectacular when in full bloom. In Japanese culture, cherry blossoms are celebrated for their transitory beauty. Courtesans, whose fame was short-lived as their beauty succumbed to the passing of time, are also nicknamed yozakura, or ‘night cherry blossoms’.

This print depicts the Sannō Festival, which has been held in Kyoto and Tokyo since the end of the eighth century. An example of the incorporation of Shintoism into Buddhism, the festival developed out of the practice of Buddhist monks of Mount Hiei carrying an image of the Shinto deity Sannō when they presented a petition to the emperor in Kyoto. The festival features a procession of colourful floats like the one in this print. The crowing rooster on top of a drum, on the right, was a symbol of good government, adopted from China in 645. In ancient times, a drum was beaten by subjects when they wanted to present a petition. During the peaceful reign of the legendary Emperor Yao, the drum was no longer used and became a roosting place for chickens.

A fashionably dressed woman hurries along during the early morning sunrise. In the background are the silhouettes of people ending their night of entertainment in the theatre district of Edo. The green of the woman’s underlip, often found in ukiyo-e prints and paintings, was derived from applying multiple layers of ‘bamboo-grass-coloured lipstick’. Applied in just one or two layers, it appears red, as on her upper lip. The box-like turrets in the background were originally drum towers above the entrances to the kabuki theatres from which announcements were made to attract theatre audiences.

Bon is a Buddhist summer festival held every year when the moon is full during the seventh lunar month. It is to honour the spirits of dead ancestors who are visiting descendants in the living world. Also known as the Lantern Festival, lanterns are used to guide spirits to and from where they came. In country areas a dance called bon odori is often performed, where men and women dance in a line or circle, clapping and singing. They wear light cotton yukata robes and dance with fans. Young men, such as the figure in the lower centre of the image, wear robes with geometrical patterns and tie their hair up in tight queues.

The young woman depicted here is a tsujigimi (‘mistress of the street corner’). Belonging to the lowest class of prostitutes, tsujigimi had to roam the streets, carrying a straw-mat under their arm, ready to be rolled out on demand. Unlike the young woman shown in this print, tsujigimi were usually old and used heavy white make-up to cover their blemishes. The poem in the title cartouche by the female poet Oshun Hitotose refers to the extreme whiteness of this make-up that reflects the moonlight.

Dressed in a black kimono patterned with bold, colourful sunflowers, and striking a proud pose as if challenging the moon above, Fukami Jikyū is the epitome of the folk heroes known as otokodate. Formerly low-ranking samurai, who lost their employment during the peaceful Edo period, otokodate were courageous, chivalrous men who protected the rights of the urban townspeople against attacks by street gangs and harassments by idle samurai. Otokodate were below the law and made a living from the proceeds from gambling, but nevertheless they enjoyed widespread support from townspeople.