brief discussion of materials is far from exhaustive. The interior structure of many ningyō forms reveals the use of bamboo dowels, metal pins, and cotton or silk wadding. Exterior elements include lacquered paper for armor, thin and thick metal bosses, and appliqués. Beginning in the eighteenth century, silk fiber or actual human hair was generally employed as well in the depiction of the various ningyō hairstyles. Silk fiber was also used to simulate fur-covered boots as well as the fur of animals. Core materials other than wood include ivory, clay, papier mâché, and a wood composite known as toso. Even plant materials such as rape seed (nanohana) were used to create hina-ningyō in certain communities. In the descriptions of the figures included in this volume, the appearance of these and other elements are noted to help create a greater understanding not only of the visual meaning and cultural symbolism represented by ningyō, but also the nuts and bolts that went into the creation of these marvelous works of art
Gosho-style ishō-ningyō: Jurōjin
Edo period, 19th century
Height 14 inches
Ayervais Collection
Standing gosho-ningyō holding infant
Edo period, 19th century
Height 7 inches
Rosen Collection
A CELEBRATION OF YOUTH
Dolls the world over are largely seen to be the province of children, toys to be played with, forms to be dressed and preened, and endowed with imaginary lives re-enacted in imitation of the adult world. Following a seemingly universal impulse, children mimic the society around them through the use of dolls cobbled together from found materials: wood, clay, stone, string, and cloth. Such is the basic nature of the doll and even play—an imitation of life, a parody of the larger world, a socialization process developing the skills and aptitudes required for functioning in general society. But in a striking inversion of this pattern, a certain category of Japanese doll takes as its focus children, carefree and innocent, acting out these mimicking roles. Instead of playthings intended for children, they are dolls traditionally designed for and admired by adults, creating an interesting circle of adults admiring dolls depicting children pretending to be adults. Such is the basic nature of the gosho-ningyō or "palace doll," a celebration of youth and innocence. Gosho-ningyō are at their core dolls depicting children. Whether elaborately costumed or nearly naked, they depict young, generally male, children doing what children do—playing, discovering the world around them. The particular love of the Japanese for the gosho-ningyō reflects an appreciation of the innocence of childhood and an attempt to continue to view the world through the child's eye long after the eye has matured into adulthood.
Gosho-ningyō art perhaps the most lovable of all Japanese dolls, with their chubby bodies, childish expressions, and friendly faces staring candidly at the viewer. Gosho are distinctive in their depiction of young boys between the ages of three and five years old. Structurally, their bodies are generally carved in their entirety out of wood, frequently sexed, and covered overall in a brilliant white gofun (a lacquer-like substance made from a crushed oyster shell powder mixed with an animal-based glue termed nikowa). Their hairstyles are arranged in fashions appropriate to their age. Often they are depicted wearing nothing more than a simple bib known as a haragake. Their heads are exceptionally large and round, their facial features usually small and centered, and their bodies corpulent, signifying health.
Popular in imperial court circles beginning in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, gosho-ningyō were frequently exchanged as gifts on a variety of occasions. As their popularity grew and expanded beyond the intimate court circles that birthed them, gosho-ningyō began to be depicted in a variety of ways, drawing not only upon court traditions and attire, but also presenting parodies (mitate) of popular legends, Noh and Kabuki performances, as well as genre scenes, all the while maintaining their youthful countenance and fleshy bodies even when clothed in layers of rich silk brocades. Tracing the history of the gosho-ningyō over the 250-year course of the Edo period is to plot the course of Edo culture itself. Each piece when examined carefully contains many layers of meaning specific to the time it was produced. From opulent to minimalist, gosho-ningyō reflect the full panoply of Edo society, all in the guise of an innocent child.
Seated gosho-ningyō with harukoma
Edo period, 19th century
Height 11 inches
Rauch Collection
Saga-ningyō
Edo period, 17th century
Height 10 inches
Ayervais Collection
As will be seen below, within each category of Japanese doll explored there exist subtypes within subtypes, a seemingly infinite parceling within narrower and narrower forms, all expressed in a surprisingly rich and revealing vocabulary Regarding the form we generally call "gosho" today, there are over twenty different names that have been applied over time, corresponding to differences in function, position, construction, region, and maker. Like the old axiom about North American Eskimos and their rich vocabulary for describing snow, gosho-ningyō, much beloved, and very much a part of Edo culture, claim the same degree of verbal diversity: zudai-ningyō (big head doll), shiragiku-ningyō (white chrysanthemum doll), shiraniku-ningyō (white flesh doll), omiyage-ningyō (gift doll), Izukura-ningyō (named for the celebrated Osaka-based doll maker Izukura Kihei), hairyo-ningyō (emperor's gift), to name only a few
This chapter will explore the origins and uses of gosho-ningyō in the imperial court, tracing some of their early formative steps and influences, including the opulent Saga-ningyō, with its richly textured lacquer surface, and the transitional hadaka Saga or "naked Saga," with its attenuated limbs and more natural proportions. The growth in their popularity, first among the samurai classes and eventually the merchant classes, the shifts in construction techniques and the thematic presentation will also be covered. By examining the images produced and their echoes in other media, such as woodblock prints, Noh, Kabuki, puppet theater, and popular literature, we can see how gosho-ningyō, far from being the elite preserve of the imperial court, were very much a product of popular culture, though imbued with auspicious symbolism.
First a story: Asahara Kakuyo, a well-known second-generation ningyō collector and owner of the (sadly) now-closed Hozukiya doll shop in Tokyo, loves to tell of a gosho-ningyō her father acquired before the war while she was still a young girl. This particular gosho was considered to be especially important, whether for size or rarity she no longer recalls, but she remembers feeling that it was worth more than the value of the home they lived in. The whole family was caught up in the enthusiasm over this new addition. Her younger brother, however, thought that the doll did not at all look important, as its white gofun was soiled. In a burst of youthful inspiration and a genuine desire to please, the young boy carried the treasure with him into the bath and carefully cleaned the doll. Of course, in the process he stripped away the centuries-old gofun, the small painted eyes, the red of the lips. What emerged from the bath was essentially a well-carved block of wood which the young boy proudly presented to his father: a young child, naked from his bath, holding an object of
