Showing posts with label Edo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edo. Show all posts

Wednesday, 15 July 2026

UTAGAWA HIROSHIGE, TEACHING JAPAN TO SEE ITSELF

Today, The Grandma has dedicated her day to drawing, one of her great pleasures. Drawing is a very personal art form, and The Grandma greatly admires great Japanese artists like Utagawa Hiroshige.

Few artists have shaped the way a nation sees itself as profoundly as Utagawa Hiroshige, born Andō Tokutarō in Edo (modern Tokyo) in 1797.

Although he lived during Japan's Edo period, his influence reaches far beyond the nineteenth century, continuing to shape Japanese aesthetics, design, photography, animation, and even contemporary tourism.

Together with Hokusai and Utamaro, Hiroshige stands among the greatest masters of ukiyo-e, the famous Japanese woodblock prints that captured the beauty of everyday life. Yet while many ukiyo-e artists focused primarily on actors, courtesans, or urban entertainment, Hiroshige transformed the landscape into the true protagonist of Japanese art.

Hiroshige was not simply painting mountains, rivers, and villages. He was capturing atmosphere. Rain falling over a bridge. Snow covering a quiet street. Morning mist rising from a valley. Travellers walking along a lonely road. His works rarely celebrate dramatic events. Instead, they invite viewers to appreciate fleeting moments that might otherwise go unnoticed.

This sensitivity reflects one of the deepest aspects of Japanese culture: beauty is often found in impermanence rather than permanence. Rather than dominating nature, humans exist peacefully within it. This idea resonates with concepts such as mono no aware -the gentle awareness that everything is temporary- and wabi-sabi, the appreciation of simplicity and imperfect beauty.

Hiroshige's greatest masterpiece is undoubtedly The Fifty-three Stations of the Tōkaidō, published during the 1830s. The Tōkaidō Road connected Edo with Kyoto and was the most important route in Japan. Hiroshige travelled along it, producing a series of prints depicting travellers, inns, villages, mountains, rivers and changing weather.

Rather than creating a geographical record, he offered an emotional journey through Japan. Each print tells a small story. Some depict merchants caught in the rain. Others show fishermen, pilgrims, farmers or ordinary travellers resting after a long day's walk. For many Japanese people, these images became visual memories of places they had never visited.

One of Hiroshige's greatest innovations was his extraordinary depiction of weather. Few artists before him represented: sudden summer storms; heavy snowfall; dense morning fog; moonlit nights; brilliant sunsets; changing seasons. Nature becomes almost alive. Rain is not simply painted -it falls. Snow does not merely cover the landscape -it creates silence. Wind becomes visible through bending trees and fluttering clothing. These subtle effects would later fascinate Western artists.

When Japan opened to international trade in the nineteenth century, Hiroshige's prints arrived in Europe and sparked what became known as Japonisme.

Artists such as Vincent van Gogh, Claude Monet, Edgar Degasa and James McNeill Whistler were deeply inspired by his compositions. Van Gogh even copied several Hiroshige prints almost brushstroke for brushstroke, fascinated by their bold colours, unusual perspectives and flattened compositions. Without Hiroshige, Impressionism -and especially Post-Impressionism- might have looked very different.

Although more than 160 years have passed since his death, Hiroshige remains deeply present in Japanese culture. His influence can be seen everywhere.

Japanese posters, packaging, book covers and advertising frequently borrow his clean compositions and balanced use of empty space. Minimalism, now associated with Japanese design worldwide, owes much to the visual language developed by artists like Hiroshige.

Many anime backgrounds unconsciously echo Hiroshige's landscapes. Directors such as Hayao Miyazaki often create environments where nature is not merely scenery but an emotional presence. Quiet rivers, distant mountains, forests wrapped in mist, changing skies and seasonal transitions all recall Hiroshige's poetic vision.

Japanese photographers frequently seek the same balance between human activity and landscape. Instead of spectacular scenery, they often capture everyday beauty—the very approach Hiroshige pioneered.

Many travellers still follow the historic Tōkaidō route today. Museums, guidebooks and cultural trails continue to celebrate the locations immortalised in Hiroshige's prints, allowing visitors to compare nineteenth-century landscapes with modern Japan. His work has become a bridge between historical memory and contemporary travel.

Perhaps Hiroshige's greatest achievement is that his art remains remarkably modern. His prints rarely depict famous historical events. Instead, they celebrate ordinary people living ordinary lives. A fisherman. A traveller. Children crossing a bridge. Snow falling on a village. Moments that could easily pass unnoticed become unforgettable. In an age dominated by speed, noise and constant stimulation, Hiroshige reminds us that beauty often lies in slowing down and observing the world around us.

Today, Hiroshige is regarded not simply as one of Japan's greatest artists but as one of the world's greatest landscape printmakers. His work continues to inspire painters, illustrators, architects, filmmakers, photographers and designers across the globe. More importantly, he helped define a distinctly Japanese way of seeing nature -not as something to conquer, but as something to live alongside. That vision continues to resonate in contemporary Japan, where seasonal change, respect for the landscape and appreciation of fleeting beauty remain central to everyday life. More than a century and a half after his death, Andō Tokutarō -known to history as Utagawa Hiroshige- still teaches us that the most extraordinary scenes are often the quietest ones.

More information: The Art Story

 

 Steadfast Seas and Mountains. 
The lofty mountains and the seas, 
Being mountains, being seas, 
Both exist and are real. 
But frail as flowers are the lives of men, 
Passing phantoms of this world.

 Utagawa Hiroshige

Saturday, 19 May 2018

MATSUO BASHO. SAYONARA JAPAN, WELCOME EQUATOR

Matsuo Bashō
The Jones have left Japan and are flying to Quito, Equator. There, they're going to fly to their final destination: The Galapagos Islands

They are a lot of hours of flying and sleeping, watching TV, playing with their Japanese games or reading are activities very useful to spend time. 

The Grandma is reading some beautiful haikus written by Matsuo Bashō, who is considered, one of the best and most famous Japanese writers in history.

Matsuo Bashō (1644-1694), born then Matsuo Chūemon Munefusa, was the most famous poet of the Edo period in Japan. During his lifetime, Bashō was recognized for his works in the collaborative haikai no renga form; today, after centuries of commentary, he is recognized as the greatest master of haiku, then called hokku.

More information: The Philosophers Mail

Matsuo Bashō's poetry is internationally renowned; and, in Japan, many of his poems are reproduced on monuments and traditional sites. Although Bashō is justifiably famous in the West for his hokku, he himself believed his best work lay in leading and participating in renku. He is quoted as saying, Many of my followers can write hokku as well as I can. Where I show who I really am is in linking haikai verses.

Matsuo Bashō
Bashō was introduced to poetry at a young age, and after integrating himself into the intellectual scene of Edo, modern Tokyo, he quickly became well known throughout Japan

He made a living as a teacher; but then renounced the social, urban life of the literary circles and was inclined to wander throughout the country, heading west, east, and far into the northern wilderness to gain inspiration for his writing. His poems were influenced by his firsthand experience of the world around him, often encapsulating the feeling of a scene in a few simple elements.

More information: Famous Poets and Poems

Matsuo Bashō was born in 1644, near Ueno, in Iga Province. The Matsuo family was of samurai descent, and his father probably was a musokunin, a class of landowning peasants granted certain privileges of samurai.

Matsuo Bashō
Little is known of his childhood. In his late teens, Bashō became a servant to Tōdō Yoshitada probably in some humble capacity, and probably not promoted to full samurai class. It is claimed he served as cook or a kitchen worker in some near-contemporaneous accounts, but there is no conclusive proof. A later hypothesis is that he was chosen to serve as page to Yoshitada, with alternative documentary evidence suggesting he started serving at a younger age. He shared Yoshitada's love for haikai no renga, a form of collaborative poetry composition. A sequence was opened with a verse in 5-7-5 mora format; this verse was named a hokku, and would centuries later be renamed haiku when presented as a stand-alone work. 

The hokku would be followed by a related 7-7 mora verse by another poet. Both Bashō and Yoshitada gave themselves haigō, or haikai pen names; Bashō's was Sōbō, which was simply the on'yomi of his adult name, Munefusa

More information: Hello Poetry

In 1662, the first extant poem by Bashō was published. In 1526, two of Bashō's hokku were printed in a compilation.

Matsuo Bashō
In 1665, Bashō and Yoshitada together with some acquaintances composed a hyakuin, or one-hundred-verse renku. 

In 1666, Yoshitada's sudden death brought Bashō's peaceful life as a servant to an end. No records of this time remain, but it is believed that Bashō gave up any possibility of samurai status and left home.

Biographers have proposed various reasons and destinations, including the possibility of an affair between Bashō and a Shinto miko named Jutei, which is unlikely to be true.  


Bashō's own references to this time are vague; he recalled that at one time I coveted an official post with a tenure of land, and that there was a time when I was fascinated with the ways of homosexual love: there is no indication whether he was referring to real obsessions or fictional ones. 

He was uncertain whether to become a full-time poet; by his own account, the alternatives battled in my mind and made my life restless. His indecision may have been influenced by the then still relatively low status of renga and haikai no renga as more social activities than serious artistic endeavors. 

Matsuo Bashō
In any case, his poems continued to be published in anthologies in 1667, 1669, and 1671, and he published a compilation of work by himself and other authors of the Teitoku school, The Seashell Game, in 1672. In about the spring of that year he moved to Edo, to further his study of poetry.

On his return to Edo in the winter of 1691, Bashō lived in his third bashō hut, again provided by his disciples. This time, he was not alone: he took in a nephew and his female friend, Jutei, who were both recovering from illness. He had a great many visitors.

More information: Poetry Foundation

Bashō continued to be uneasy. He wrote to a friend that disturbed by others, I have no peace of mind. He made a living from teaching and appearances at haikai parties until late August 1693, when he shut the gate to his bashō hut and refused to see anybody for a month. 

Finally, he relented after adopting the principle of karumi or lightness, a semi-Buddhist philosophy of greeting the mundane world rather than separating himself from it. Bashō left Edo for the last time in the summer of 1694, spending time in Ueno and Kyoto before his arrival in Osaka. He became sick with a stomach illness and died peacefully, surrounded by his disciples.

More information: Poem Hunter


Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home. 

Matsuo Basho