Category Archives: From the Collections

Utamaro: The Musical at the Freer|Sackler

“Utamaro: The Musical,” recently performed at the Freer|Sackler.

More than two hundred years after his death, the great Japanese artist Kitagawa Utamaro (1753–1806) came back to life for visitors to the Freer|Sackler this summer. The Tokyo-based It’s Follies musical company visited the museums June 30 through July 2 to perform excerpts from their hit 1985 production Utamaro: The Musical.

Five actors in full costume played the great artist himself as well as a kabuki-style narrator and several of Utamaro’s main muses—courtesans from the famous red-light districts of old Edo. Five performances drew a combined audience of nearly six hundred guests to these programs that complemented our exhibition Inventing Utamaro: A Japanese Masterpiece Rediscovered.

Actress Kurumi Sakai as the kabuki-style narrator of the show.

Their opening number, “Ryogoku, My Town,” extols the stimulating variety of “lonesome losers” who populated the town. The lyrics describe a litany of “pickpockets, snitches, spongers, debt collectors, ruffians, pimps, luggage thieves, sheriffs, sloths, fallen drug dealers, gamblers, drunkards, pilferers, drag queens, male prostitutes, old maids, con men, fakers, storytellers, tumblers, street performers . . . anything is in Ryogoku. This town is my town, I like to walk in this town, a town where lonesome losers lost in the game of life.”

Standing out among the plethora of low-life characters are royalty of the red-light district—the high-end courtesans (oiran) who could be seen by commoners only during a formal parade. One such courtesan was played by actress Yuko Katsube. Her costume featured an ornate kimono and the twelve-inch-tall elevated shoes called koma-geta or mitsu-ashi, worn only by these high-ranking women.

Utamaro (played by Yu Yoshida, left) persuades teahouse worker Okita Naniwaya (played by Tamami Mizutani) to pose for some of his best-selling portraits.

By now a best-selling artist, Utamaro is commissioned to paint a popular waitress at the Naniwa teahouse (which the narrator compares to a modern-day Starbucks). Instead, his attention is drawn to a new girl, Okita, who works there only part-time. Reluctant at first, she is finally persuaded to pose for Utamaro by his persistent and poetic approaches, dramatized in the song “The Woman in You.”

“There is another woman inside you,” he sings, “even though you don’t know. It’s a woman I was looking for, a woman I want to draw a picture of. That is the other woman inside you. Your smile sparkles over the stream on a clear morning. Your portrait is flickering in the candlelight. A beautiful woman radiating her beauty. She is born again.”

Utamaro’s portraits sell wildly and turn Okita into a celebrity.

One of Utamaro’s many famous illustrations of Okita. “Naniwaya Okita,” Kitagawa Utamaro (early 1750s–1806), Japanese, Edo period (about 1793), woodblock print, publisher Tsutaya Jûzaburô (Kôshodô), Museum of Fine Arts Boston, 11.14243, William Sturgis Bigelow Collection

Disaster strikes when the reigning ruler, Okitsugu Tanuma, a man who long tolerated the excesses of the red-light district, is replaced by his rival, Sadanobu Matsudaira, a staunch opponent of the city’s culture. The new ruler bans all manner of arts and entertainment, including the courtesan portraits that had made Utamaro famous and successful. Not only does Matsudaira ban these practices, but he seizes the artists’ assets and places them, handcuffed, under house arrest.

The rise of an intolerant new ruler is dramatized in the program.

Under this repressive new regime, Utamaro is asked to paint the portrait of a warrior, which he refuses to do on principle, agonizing over his turn in fortune while wearing handcuffs. He wonders aloud what people two hundred years later might think, and our kabuki narrator explains that one art form—music—became a vehicle of protest known as rock ‘n’ roll. “Resistance to authority that Utamaro showed with ukiyo-e (woodblock prints) is like what today’s youth do with music,” says the narrator.

“I understand that spirit of resistance called rock,” Utamaro declares. “I am living in the same time with you. Dreams, separation, tearing, meaninglessness, setbacks, friendship, nostalgia, oblivion, decadence, loneliness, fatigue, temptation, misunderstanding, defeat, and despair. These are friends of me and you.”

Utamaro (center) demonstrates his determination to continue painting, despite the repressive regime that has taken over Edo.

Utamaro is joined by the full ensemble for the program’s final number, a rousing anthem to resistance and determination called “Rock Land”:

I am living in the same time with you,
feeling lonely in a crowd,
looking on with nostalgia from a cold street corner,
confused by my old diaries,
as I dance fatigued at a bar before dawn,
as I drape my arm casually across a bench of age-old stone,
waiting for a long-awaited dream,
while I am laughing and saying life is full of good-byes,
while I realize I face only despair in the future,
believing in victory though it may never come to me.
Go across the highway and run through the side roads.
My friend, let’s sing a cry of the soul.
I am living with you in Rock Land.

The full ensemble sings the finale, “Rock Land,” with (left to right) Yuko Katsube as Toyohina Tomimoto, Kurumi Sakai as Kyogenmawashi, Yu Yoshida as Kitagawa Utamaro, Haruka Ohkawa as Ohisa Takashima, and Tamami Mizutani as Okita Naniwaya.

In 1804, Utamaro was jailed for three days and handcuffed for fifty days. Two years later, after his release, he died. The program’s final slide affirms that “Utamaro’s soul has never stopped living among Japanese people in the two hundred years since his death.”

Photographs by Hutomo Wicaksono

Meet our Volunteer: Michael Ruddell

Bottle; Korea, late 18th–19th century; Bunwon ware; porcelain with transparent, pale blue glaze; Gift of Graenum and Emma Berger and Elizabeth Lee Berger in memory of Ambassador Samuel D. Berger; F1980.188

Bottle; Korea, late 18th–19th century; Bunwon ware; porcelain with transparent, pale blue glaze; Gift of Graenum and Emma Berger and Elizabeth Lee Berger in memory of Ambassador Samuel D. Berger; F1980.188

Michael Ruddell has volunteered at the Freer|Sackler since 2016 as a Visitor Information Specialist (VIS). VIS provide essential services to the Smithsonian by offering a warm welcome and useful information to our visitors about exhibitions, activities, services, and more. I recently asked him a few questions about his work at the museum.

What drew you to the Freer|Sackler?

I’ve volunteered at Freer|Sackler for a year this month. For as long as I have lived in the DC area, I have been wandering through the Smithsonian museums. This has been a great opportunity for me to get more involved and to learn about art, history, and the people who value and create it.

What’s the most satisfying experience about volunteering for the museum?

As a Volunteer Information Specialist, I get to serve as an ambassador and public face of the Smithsonian Institution, which is very exciting. I really enjoy witnessing how our visitors experience the museum. It’s a lot of fun and very rewarding to hear their perspectives on the art and to learn from the many kinds of people who come to visit.

Can you share a memorable interaction with a visitor you have had?

Throughout the course of the Turquoise Mountain exhibition [on view through October 29, 2017], I [have been] lucky enough to meet some of the artisans from Afghanistan who came to demonstrate their skills in calligraphy, ceramics, and other arts for us at the museum. They were incredibly kind and extraordinarily talented. I watched them working and got to listen in on their conversations with the visitors.

I particularly remember watching Abdul Matin Malekzadah create a beautiful and intricate clay teapot in a matter of minutes (lid, handle, spout, and all) with a traditional potter’s wheel in the gallery, to the amazement of the visitors watching. When he had finished a piece, he would unceremoniously lump it all together and begin again on something different. The visitors’ reactions were priceless.

What’s your favorite artwork in the collection?

I’ve come to love the ceramics in the collection since I started volunteering, especially the Korean pieces. I like to think about the people who molded these shapes and worked so hard to produced these colors. I’m sure [museum founder Charles Lang] Freer would have loved a bottle like this one—it’s gorgeous.

Chinese New Year: Celebrating with Food and Art

 

Meet Baolin Zhang, who creates edible festival toys out of rice flour. He will travel to Washington, DC, from Beijing to demonstrate how to make these dough figurines at our third annual Chinese New Year Celebration on Sunday, February 5.

Although this craft does not require complicated skills or rare materials, it does take a lot of artistic practice. At his demonstration, Zhang will show how he kneads colored dough into different shapes. In the video, you can see how he uses small bamboo slits to depict people, animals, and deities from traditional folktales. Along with glutinous rice flour, he uses other edible materials to create his art, including wax and honey to prevent cracking or mildewing.

After watching Bai’s demonstration, you can watch another Beijing artist use liquid sugar to paint beautiful creatures from the Chinese zodiac. Don’t worry if all this edible art makes you hungry: Pinch Dumpling will sell steamed dumplings, which you can enjoy as a casual lunch with friends and family.

All activities are free and open to the public. For more information (and to invite your friends), check out the event listing on Facebook.

Chinese New Year: Painted Clay Sculptures Celebrate Beijing Opera Characters

 

Meet Hongkui Lin, a craftsman of painted clay opera masks. On Sunday, February 5, watch him demonstrate his more than one-hundred-year-old craft at our third annual Chinese New Year Celebration. Lin is visiting from Beijing, and his demonstration will be a rare opportunity for Americans to experience this popular Chinese craft.

As this video shows, the process for making the clay masks is more complex than it might seem at first glance. Like a complicated recipe, one mask takes a minimum of sixteen steps, from carving models on paper to applying base paint and adding enamel.

Lin selects colors to reflect aspects of each character’s identity and personality. Red often represents loyalty, for instance, while black symbolizes integrity. Colors also may signify age. Pink is reserved for elders, and if your character is immortal, it most likely will bear silver or gold.

After watching Lin’s demonstration, you may be inspired to watch thirty-minute opera performances by students from the Beijing Opera Art’s College at 12:30 and 2:30 pm. Or, you may be tempted to make your own opera mask in the museum’s ImaginAsia classroom.

Seating will be first come, first served, and all activities are free and open to the public. For more information (and to invite your friends), check out the event listing on Facebook.

 

On Sunday, February 5, Beijing folk artist Lin Bai will visit the Freer|Sackler as part of our third annual Chinese New Year Celebration. From 12–5 pm, you can watch him demonstrate how to make traditional bristle dolls.

This handicraft originated in Beijing more than a century ago, at the end of Qing Dynasty. In the video, you can see how Bai uses traditional materials to connect to the origins of this art form. He constructs the doll’s head and base from plaster, and he uses straw to shape the character’s bodies. The figures are then dressed in colored paper or silk and lined with cotton padding.

Bai makes characters inspired by popular operatic plays, including Uproar in Heaven and Four Pairs of Mallets. Each character is secured onto a base with a circle of sticks (or bristles), thus giving the dolls their beloved namesake. Once a collection of dolls is finished, the troupe can be placed onto a copper plate. When hit by a mallet, the figures appear to dance due to the sticks’ flexibility.

After watching Bai’s demonstration, you may be inspired to see the dolls come to life in opera performances by students from the Beijing Opera Art’s College at 12:30 and 2:30 pm. Or, you may be tempted to make your own opera mask in the museum’s ImaginAsia classroom.

Seating will be first come, first served, and all activities are free and open to the public. For more information (and to invite your friends), check out the event listing on Facebook.

Goryeo Buddhist Painting: A Closer Look

Detail, Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha (Jijang bosal); Korean, late 13th or early 14th century; hanging scroll, ink, color, and gold on silk; anonymous gift, S1992.11

Detail, Bodhisattva Kshitigarbha (Jijang bosal); Korean, late 13th or early 14th century; hanging scroll, ink, color, and gold on silk; anonymous gift, S1992.11

Painted in rich reds, greens, and blues patterned with gold, exquisite Goryeo Buddhist paintings survive in very small numbers. Scholars have identified fewer than 160 examples worldwide. Still shrouded in mystery, this genre of Korean religious icon seems to date almost exclusively to around the fourteenth century.

The Goryeo dynasty (pronounced Ko-ree-o, the root of Korea’s modern moniker) lasted from 918 to 1392 and is considered a golden age of artistic and cultural development. The Buddhist images created at the time reflect the strength of the Pure Land tradition, which promises believers rebirth in paradise. The works feature specific buddhas and bodhisattvas who help followers achieve this goal. Through centuries of warfare and loss, most of the paintings left the Korean Peninsula. They now survive in large part in Japanese temple collections.

The tradition has only re-emerged from obscurity in the past few decades as researchers have begun to identify specific visual characteristics that unite the works. These features include delicately painted garments, saturated mineral pigments accented with gold, and illusionary effects such as transparency. Although these similarities are now well-documented, there is still much to discover about the paintings’ artistic methods and cultural context.

Detail, Water-Moon Avalokitesvara (Suwol Gwaneum bosal); Korea, mid-14th century; hanging scroll; ink, color, and gold on silk; Gift of Charles Lang Freer, F1904.13

Detail, Water-Moon Avalokitesvara (Suwol Gwaneum bosal); Korea, mid-14th century; hanging scroll; ink, color, and gold on silk; Gift of Charles Lang Freer, F1904.13

Scholars and specialists who work to unravel the mysteries of these paintings will visit the Freer|Sackler in March for our symposium Goryeo Buddhist Painting: A Closer Look. Celebrating a new digital catalogue that features sixteen Goryeo Buddhist paintings in US museums, the event will introduce new research into the works’ historical, religious, and geographic contexts. English-language versions of all papers will be provided at the symposium, as presentations will be given in Japanese, Korean, or English.

Discover more art objects from the Goryeo dynasty in our collection, and zoom in to see the delicate details of Goryeo Buddhist paintings.

Meet Our Volunteer: Patrick Hamilton

Machig Labdron as Vajradakini

Machig Labdron as Vajradakini

Patrick Hamilton has volunteered at the Freer|Sackler since 2009 as a Visitor Information Specialist (VIS). VIS provide essential services to the Smithsonian by offering a warm welcome and useful information to our visitors about exhibitions, activities, services, and more. I recently asked him a few questions about his work at the museum.

What drew you to volunteer the Freer|Sackler?

I worked across the street at the Department of Energy from 1994 until 2008. In those days, I visited the Freer|Sackler at least once a week, fantasizing what it would be like to work with all the beautiful things on display—and here I am!

What’s the most satisfying experience about volunteering for the museum?

I most enjoy working with newcomers to our collection. I feel most useful when I’m able to direct guests to something specific that I know they will enjoy and will become a treasured memory of their visit to the Smithsonian.

Can you share a memorable interaction you have had?

I most recall the delight I felt meeting the Tibetan Buddhist monks from Drepung Loseling Monastery when they came to the Sackler to build a traditional sand mandala in the foyer.

What’s your favorite artwork in the collection?

Among the current items on view in the Sackler, I would choose the gilt metal statue of Tibetan Buddhist teacher, Machig Labdron. She is doubly important to me since she is also the patron of an education project I work with in Tibet.

Whistler’s Watercolors: Sneak Peek

James McNeill Whistler's watercolor "Blue and Silver: Chopping Channel"

James McNeill Whistler’s watercolor “Blue and Silver: Chopping Channel”

Senior Scientist Blythe McCarthy, Curator Lee Glazer, and I are undertaking a technical examination and analysis of James McNeill Whistler’s watercolors, based on the fifty-two watercolor paintings—the largest number of Whistler watercolors in any one location—in our collection. This study involves visual analysis, art historical research, and scientific study using a number of analytical techniques. It will culminate in an exhibition of Whistler watercolors in 2018. Until then, here is a sneak peek of some of our findings thus far.

Hot or Not?
The most commonly used supports for watercolor painting in the nineteenth century were wove paper and paperboard. Whistler used both. In fact, while Whistler was quite innovative in his paper choices for etchings, he appears to have been much more traditional in those he used for watercolors.

His preferred papers were manufactured with textures that can change and enhance watercolor’s appearance. During the nineteenth century, these surfaces were sold with the following designations: hot press, cold press, and rough. “Hot press” refers to paper that has been run through hot rollers to impart a very smooth, flattened surface. “Cold press”—also called “not,” as in “not hot pressed”—has been run through cold rollers, which partially smooth the rough surface of the paper fibers. “Rough” indicates a paper that has only been air-dried, with no pressing of the surface to flatten or smooth it.

Below are photographs of three Whistler watercolors, taken through the microscope at five times magnification. Can you see the differences in the surface textures?

hotcoldrough

 

Sanding the Beach
Whistler used many of the techniques discussed in watercolor manuals of his day, including rewetting and blotting, rubbing and sanding. We found evidence of several techniques in the section of his painting Southend: The Pleasure Yacht highlighted below. First, Whistler painted a blue wash. He then sanded the paper, which removed the blue from the high spots but left the color in small depressions. Lastly, he painted another, drier wash of a sandy color, which sits on the high points of the paper. The fibers in this worked area appear rough and lifted.

southend

Paper Source
Watermarks, as seen in modern currency, are thinner areas of the paper that look transparent when held up to a light. About half of Whistler’s watercolors are mounted to cardboard supports, so it’s nearly impossible to see if there are watermarks in the paper. Using computed digital X-radiography, though, we were able to read a watermark on one of our mounted watercolors. Though it’s difficult to see, the watermark revealed below reads: “J. Whatman/Turkey Mill/189?” It tells us that the paper was made by James Whatman, a preeminent British papermaker of the eighteenth century.

watermark

Outfit Change
We examined all of the watercolors using a technique called reflected infrared photography, which can enhance and reveal underdrawings and reworking. Using filters to block visible and ultraviolet light from entering the camera, we can generate an image of reflected infrared light. Carbon and other pigments absorb this light and appear darker than normal. The image below shows a change Whistler made while painting the skirt in his portrait of Milly Finch.

milly-finch

Want to know more? Read a past post on Whistler’s drawings, and stay tuned for more conservation insights as this project moves forward.

National Cat Day: Courtesan Beneath a Mosquito Net

Courtesan Beneath a Mosquito Net; Utagawa Kunisada (1786–1864); Japan, Edo period, 1855; hanging scroll; ink and color on silk; Purchase—Harold P. Stern Memorial Fund, F1995.17

Courtesan Beneath a Mosquito Net; Utagawa Kunisada (1786–1864); Japan, Edo period, 1855; hanging scroll; ink and color on silk; Purchase—Harold P. Stern Memorial Fund, F1995.17

This scene of a courtesan emerging from a mosquito net as her cat returns her gaze alludes to a well-known episode from the eleventh-century Japanese work The Tale of Genji. Prince Genji’s wife, the Third Princess, was concealed from public view, as was the custom among women of high status. When her cat pushed aside a bamboo blind, however, the princess was revealed to the courtier Kashiwagi, and thus began a secret affair between the two.

Inscribed at the top of the painting is a poem by Honda Jinzaburo (1781–1861), whose pen name was Tenmei Rojin. The poem alludes to the source of mosquito nets—the vendors from Omi near Lake Biwa—and to the trysts of courtesans beneath the netting on steamy summer nights:

No matter whom
the maiden meets
under the omi net,
her arm shows the mark
of a mosquito’s stinger.

Translation by John Carpenter

Chinamania in 3D

3d

Take a spin with 3D versions of the porcelains in Chinamania. Smithsonian Digitization scanned more than sixty of our Chinese porcelains using turntable photogrammetry and laser arm scanning. Click through to view, download, and—if you have a 3D printer handy—create your own versions of these gorgeous blue-and-whites.

Want to know more about the exhibition? Here’s the overview from Lee Glazer, our curator of American art:

Contemporary sculptor Walter McConnell explores the West’s enduring obsession with Chinese ceramics through multiple lenses: museum collections, digital technology, and his own artistic vision. McConnell’s monumental porcelain sculptures are juxtaposed with export wares from China’s Kangxi period (1662–1722) similar to those that once decorated the Peacock Room in London. These historical porcelains, in turn, inspired the artist to create a new work based on 3D-printed replicas. (McConnell’s interest in replication and the serialized mass production of ceramic forms began more than a decade ago, after he visited China. His encounters with the kilns and factories at Jingdezhen prompted him to consider the history of China as an enduring resource for ceramic production.)

Created from digital scans that can be reprinted over and over, these replicas further underscore the intersection of art, technology, commerce, and mass production that has always defined Chinamania.