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2. Saito Kiyoshi (b. 1907). Maiko, Kyoto (S), 2/150, 1961, woodblock, 75.5x44.5 cm. Signed on the image Kiyoshi Saito, sealed in kanji Kiyoshi.
3. Sekino Jun'ichiro (1914-88). Titled in Japanese Keio Ka Hya-en (Keio Flower Garden). (The Japanese should be Keio Hyakka-en but Sekino was known to transpose characters as well as edition numbers. He normally made editions of 128 but some prints are marked 182.) 24/128, 1986, woodblock, 32.9x45.1 cm. Signed Jun Sekino, sealed in kanji Jun.
That did it. We quickly excused ourselves, and there are probably people even today who recall Mary being lifted up under each arm by Eiji and me and trundled with alacrity down the Ginza back to Yoseido to retrieve Kichiemon before they closed for the night or changed their minds by morning. Mary regretted having to leave so many beautiful prints back at the retrospective. However, one look at Kichiemon was enough. She gulped at the price, we paid it, and took it home. It is still one of the most expensive prints we have ever bought.
Sekino died in 1988, but the role he played as a teacher and influencer of many artists, including Iwami Reika and Miyashita Tokio, is amply evident in many of the prints in this book.
Since we have had the privilege of living throughout Japan, in Tokyo, Yokohama, Sapporo, Kyoto, and for the past twenty years back in Tokyo again, our collection embodies a certain breadth that our repeated geographic relocation provided. At the start we did not know very much about Japanese history, customs, and culture, but as we continued collecting prints we were able to use our curiosity about them as a tool to learn more. Although many artists live in Tokyo, our postings in other cities put us in close personal touch with those artists who might have been otherwise unavailable or inaccessible to the novice.
It was obvious at the beginning that we would have to learn more about the two major religions of Japan, Shinto and Buddhism, particularly because temples, shrines, and pagodas are everywhere. Sasajima Kihei's Buddhist prints and Hiratsuka Un'ichi's renderings of temple and shrine precincts helped one appreciate not only the architectural accomplishments of Japan's coexisting ancient religions but their influence on a multitude of art forms.
Sasajima passed away last year, and although I was sad to hear the news since we have many of his prints that we count among our favorites, I cannot honestly say that their creator was someone whose company I particularly enjoyed.
Sasajima was a loner. Born in Mashiko, a rural locale known for its mingei (folk art) pottery, he came to Tokyo as a school teacher and was first introduced to prints when he happened to take an art class for teachers that was taught by the great Hiratsuka, one of the fathers of the sōsaku-hanga print movement. In addition, his hometown friend, a Living Cultural Treasure for pottery, Hamada Shoji, introduced him to Munakata Shiko, another Living Cultural Treasure for prints, and so Sasajima was in good hands with the best teachers and excellent connections. But somehow he never quite fit in, being on really friendly terms with only very few people, such as Saito Kiyoshi, whose warmth embraced everyone.
Knowing of his difficult personality perhaps I should not have been so optimistic when I went to ask him to allow us to sell his work in our fledgling gallery. An unsophisticated man from the countryside, Sasajima made no bones about not intending to take up with a yet unknown gallery (ours) and refused completely, abruptly, and finally.
I attributed his refusal to a major operation he had just had, my bad timing, and his overall poor health. Later I realized that Sasajima was definitely from the old school with a strong feeling for prior loyalties and may have felt that in his weakened condition he might be able to fulfill his commitments only to those galleries with which he already had a connection and obligation.
Our feelings for this artist's works are ones of admiration. His vigorous black-and-white woodblocks of raging mountain brooks, rugged forests, and other facets of the strength of nature are powerful and dynamic. However, that first face-to-face encounter made a disagreeable impression, and I have always remembered Sasajima's tongue as being as sharp and direct as his carving tools.
Plate 4
The uncompromising effect of black and white is this artist's forte. The untitled print of a Buddhist deity shown here was but one of a myriad of nearly similar compositions that he devoted his time to in his later years. The artist's desire to be a good craftsman is germane to his way of thinking about woodblock prints, and his starkly powerful works reflect this. The multifaced, multiarmed Buddha expresses another aspect of this artist—the importance of his religion. He hoped during his life to accumulate merit, as is the Buddhist belief, by producing thousands of these images, each one a prayer.
Hiratsuka Un'ichi, now aged 99, has lived in Washington, D.C., with his daughter since 1962, so it is hard to believe how much he had already accomplished in the print world in Japan before then. He is acknowledged as one of the stalwarts and a main teacher of sōsaku-hanga, having instructed dozens of young artists who went on to great heights. His role in establishing prints as a recognized, bona fide art form in Japan was carved out when most of the artists working today were not yet born. Through his decades of incessant chipping away by teaching, through his own writings, and through his promotion of various magazines specializing in print art, he was instrumental in forwarding the aims of the new movement and gave it heart and courage.
4. Sasajima Kihei (1906-93). Title unlisted but known to be one of a series on the Buddhist deity Fudo, 39/100,1963, woodblock, 30.5x22.8 cm. Signed K. Sasajima, sealed in kanji Sasa.
Hiratsuka, like Munakata, has been the subject of attention even in English-language materials, so there is not much need to discuss his role at length except to say that it has been an immense one. Since 1962, however, he has worked at his own pace and produces the occasional print of American scenery as the spirit moves him. During our early collecting period, when we had read the few books available, it was obvious that a collection of any significance would have to include his work.
Plate 5
Like all artists of genius, Hiratsuka makes his prints look effortless, but anyone who has ever tried to convey line, mass, tension, and emotion with only black and white will know the difficulties to be faced. Uchi Kongō Hyokunji (a temple name) demonstrates the artist's mastery as well as his devotion to Buddhism. The strong, assured lines make the weighty temple building appear to be a massiveness rooted in the earth, full of power and might. As the artist is the son of a shrine carpenter and the grandson of an architect, it is not surprising that he is especially skilled at reaching so unerringly to the heart of these imposing old structures.
Hashimoto Oldie was another near centenarian who passed away during the writing of this book. He studied seriously to be an artist during a regular four-year liberal arts college course, unlike so many of the early generation who were largely self-taught. He became an art teacher to earn his living, dabbling occasionally in printmaking for his own enjoyment. After retirement he still had several decades of print productivity. Gardens, castles, and other admired historic spots in Japan were his passion, possibly a result of his long friendship with Hiratsuka, who also loved old Japan. Hashimoto had taken one of Hiratsuka's printmaking courses in the early days and they became lifelong friends. To both of these artists we owe a debt for their recordings of historical and traditional Japanese scenes, which spurred us on to learn more about the history of the country.
Plate 6
Hashimoto's Osaka Castle, with its somewhat exaggerated scale of height of the moat walls and its clearly
