Cloud Mass Sword, one of the three imperial symbols. Historically, Kokaji is reputed to be one of the greatest swordsmiths of the Heian period and founder of an important swordsmithing lineage. But he despaired of making a blade suitable for the emperor without the right assistant, one who equaled Kokajis own skill.
The swordsmith decided to seek divine assistance and went to pray to Inari Myojin, God of the Harvest, asking for help in creating the perfect blade. While at the shrine, a young boy approached him and told him not to worry that Kokaji would succeed in his efforts if he only had faith. He was instructed to prepare a sacred space in which to create the blade, to ring the area with sacred cord, and to attach images of the gods. Later that night, while Kokaji prepared to work on the blade, a fox, a manifestation of Inari, appeared. With this divine assistance, Kokaji succeeded in creating the perfect blade, a gift worthy of Emperor Ichijō. On the handle he imprinted "Munechika, swordsmith," and on the reverse "Foxling" in recognition of Inaris favorable intervention.
Historically, Kokaji was one of the most celebrated of all sword-smiths. This legend, ascribing supernatural aid in the creation of some of his swords, entered into popular lore and became the subject of Noh and karakuri-ningyō (mechanical doll) performances. The eighteenth-century Ōkarakuri ezukushi, which illustrates some of the more popular performances at the celebrated Takeda-za mechanical puppet theater in Osaka, has a picture of a karakuriningyō tableau depicting Kokaji. The minister Michinari is shown looking on as Kokaji Munechika works the blade diligently. Inari, in the guise of a fox, shown in the lower right, aids in the crucial work of pounding the blade in a precise syncopated rhythm. The complexity of the scene helps us understand why the Takeda-za was such a success during the mid-Edo period, its performances rivaling Kabuki and ningyō jōruri (puppet theater) in popularity. The story of Kokaji is also depicted in gosho-ningyō and Takeda-ningyō forms with some frequency as well.
The rice goddess Inari is most frequently symbolized by a kitsune (fox). Within the Shintō tradition, the fox serves as a messenger to the gods, conveying the wishes of mortals in this world to the other world of the gods. Shrines dedicated to Inari often have foxes flanking their closed doors behind which lies the principal deity.
While the image of the deity is rarely seen, the kitsune are accessible to everyone. In standard representations, the male figure rests his paw on the tama or wish-fulfilling jewel, while the female holds in her mouth the key to the rice storage chest, both symbols of their abilities to successfully convey and grant wishes.
Partially due to their connection with the gods through Inari, and partly due to the uncanny cleverness exhibited by natural foxes, kitsune also play a large role in Japanese folklore. As pranksters and as mischievous entities, stories abound describing the many ways kitsune can bedevil humans. Able to take the form of a man or woman, kitsune were believed to be able to enter the lives of the unsuspecting, sometimes for good, other times for ill.
One of the most famous of these transformations occurs in the celebrated jōruri puppet drama Yoshitsune senbon zakura (Yoshitsune and the Thousand Cherry Trees), a historical play (jidaimono) which premiered at the Takemoto Theater in Osaka in November 1747. Based on the life of the twelfth-century warrior Minamoto no Yoshitsune (1159-89) and his quest to subdue the Taira, the play also contains a haunting subtale. In this segment, Yoshitsune entrusts his mistress Shizuka Gozen to the care of Sado Tadanobu (1161-86) and asks him to bring her to his mansion at Kawazura. As a keepsake, Yoshitsune gives Shizuka a drum named Hatsune. When Tadanobu appears before Yoshitsune at Kawazura without Shizuka, Yoshitsune demands to know what has happened to his mistress. Confused, Tadanobu explains that he has been attending to his ailing mother and has not seen Shizuka. Just at that moment, Shizuka arrives with another Tadanobu. Confronted, the second Tadanobu reveals that he is really a fox and that the tympanum of the drum Hatsune is made from the skin of his parents, magical foxes, which had been slaughtered years ago to make drums to pray for rain. In gratitude for keeping Shizuka safe during their journey, and in recognition of his deep filial piety that has kept him pursuing this drum all these years, Yoshitsune bestows upon him the name Genkurō Kitsune, "Genkurō the Fox." Kabuki adopted this segment of Yoshitsune as well in a play entitled Kawazura hogan yakata no ba (At Kawazura Hogans Mansion).
Karakuri gosho-ningyō with fox mask
Edo period, 19th century
Height 10 1/2 inches
Ayervais Collection
Performance of Kokaji at the Takedaza mechanical puppet theater, from Okarakuri ezukushi, Nishimura
Shigenaga (1697-1756), woodblock printed book, 18th century.
C. V. Starr East Asian Library,
Columbia University
The layering of kitsune myth and lore is so deep and rich that it is impossible to know what associations were brought to mind when viewing the diminutive karakuri gosho presented here: whether people saw Genkurō Kitsune aiding Shizuka through their journey to Kawazura or other figures such as Kokaji creating his famous sword when the mask of the fox came up, hiding the face of the gosho behind.
Karakuri gosho tend to be simple in their mechanisms and intent. The arms, joined through a hollow body and attached to a small turn lever that is exposed on the back, allow the figure to raise and lower whatever object is held in its hand. If the arms rise together, then typically a mask is attached, whether of a god such as Daikoku, or Okame, or of another image. When a mask is employed, these figures are called menkaburi gosho and were a specialty of Kyoto ningyō makers. The raising of the mask to the face "transforms" the gosho into the character depicted by the mask, much as a Noh actor becomes a deity through the mask he wears in a performance. Alternative mechanisms have the arms rising and lowering independently, at which point a suzu rattle may be inserted for a depiction of Sambasō, or a hand-held shishi-mai mask and peonies for a depiction of Shakkyō.
In order to accommodate the mechanism, most karakuri gosho are executed in papier-mâché as opposed to solid wood. Called hariko gosho, these forms are lighter and enabled the craftsman to install more elaborate mechanisms for the karakuri element than a solid wood form would have afforded. The number and variety of extant examples indicates that these forms were quite popular during the Edo period.
The example on pages 36 and 37 is in a classic seated pose with legs stretched out in front. His head is very large with narrow eyes, and a small incised line to help delineate the chin. Silk fiber hair extends in two side locks tied with small ribbons close to his temples. Strapped to his head by chirimen tie cords, and partially covering his forelock bearing a mizuhiki (presentation ribbon design) is a small eboshi-style cap done in a green silk brocade with kinran elements that matches his haragake bib. Over his bib he wears a sleeveless coat embellished with satin stitch embroidered blossoms that hides the seams where his movable arms are joined at the corners. His two hands hold the strings which pull the mask to his face. In relation to other gosho-ningyō, the face of this particular figure has certain distinctive characteristics. Although the figure is of nineteenth-century origin, the eye shape is similar to that found most commonly on earlier pieces, narrow and attenuated with both the top and bottom lid rising and falling in a parallel arc. The wide spacing of the eyes, combined with the relatively compact structure of the face, is almost identical to a number of other karakuri gosho examples found in both US and Japanese collections, suggesting a common maker.
