Japanese painting traditionally takes one of three great forms: the kakemono* or the makimono*; the fan; and the design for printing, which has the appearance of a design for an engraving, done by the master to be cut into the wood block. The design itself is always done in Indian ink, the painter only experimenting with colours on a few black and white proofs pulled for himself and his friends. A few examples of fans painted by the master survive, including a very artistic one showing the full-length portrait of a Japanese lady, done in a cursory manner, but with great skill and charm, a fan which would have been displayed as a kakemono*. However, none of Utamaro’s designs meant to be carved have come down to us.
It is particularly the prints, the kakemonos* and the surimonos*, which testify to the work of the master. The kakemonos* are large works, meant to be hung on walls; as for the makimonos*, they are works on a small scale meant to be held in the hand; finally, the surimonos* are luxurious versions of block prints. All these works were executed using a complex printing technique, elaborated and improved over the history of the Japanese print, brilliantly used by the Ukiyo-e* artists, who carried their beauty and refinement to the highest perfection. By the middle of the eighteenth century, techniques allowed these works to be printed in colour.
The Ukiyo-e* block print is like “the meeting of two surfaces marvellously arranged one upon the other, the rough grain of the mulberry-wood block and the smoothness of the paper, covered with a fine absorbent pile of plant origin. On the first, the colour may be applied almost dry, on the second, it can be transferred with a delicacy which leaves only a slight trace of colouring floating on the tips of the fibres. And from the interstices between these impregnated cilia bursts forth from its very bosom the full luminous quintessence of the paper, diffusing into the pigment an exquisite gilded light, forming a bi-dimensional surface alive with vibrations,” according to Professor Fenollosa.
From a technical point of view, the process of wood engraving, with the appearance of being a simple art, in reality requires a proven talent. The steps in the production of prints, their design, engraving, printing, and publication are separate and carried out by different and highly-specialised individuals. These prints are the result of a triple combination, first of a marvellously prepared paper made from the bark of the blackberry bush (Kozo), diluted in rice milk and a gelatinous substance taken from hydrangea and hibiscus roots; second, of pigments, the secret alchemy of which is unknown to any modern artist (hence, the early tan-e prints and beni-e* prints [prints coloured by hand] can never be reproduced); and third, the application of these colours by the master printmaker – the magical hand of the orient whose fingers conceal the mysteries of the past.
“Tomimoto Toyohina” (Tomimoto Toyohina), from the series “Famous Beauties of Edo” (Edo Kōmei bijin), c. 1793–1794. Aiban, nishiki-e, 33.6 × 23.3 cm. The Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago.
“Three Beauties of the Present Day” (Tōji san bijin), c. 1793.
Ōban, nishiki-e with white mica ground, 38.6 × 25.6 cm.
The New York Public Library, New York.
Weaving on a Loom. Ōban, nishiki-e.
Musée national des Arts asiatiques – Guimet, Paris.
These steps are as follows: the artist makes a master design in ink on rice paper. He then pastes this design face down against a wood block cutting away the areas where the paper is blank with a knife or small gouges, thus leaving the reverse of the design in relief on the block, but destroying the original in the process. After applying ink to the carved block, he places a sheet of damp paper over it and applies pressure to the back of the paper with a flat rubber until a uniform transfer of the imprint has been achieved. The paper used could in some cases be embossed (karazuri*), or mixed with rice powder to accentuate the whiteness of the paper (hosho*). The wood used was most often cherry. This gave nearly perfect copies of the original. The standard format for an Ukiyo-e* were the hosoban*, the ōban*, the chūtanzaku* or the chūban*, but it is possible to find Ukiyo-e* in other formats. The early Ukiyo-e* produced between one and two hundred copies and were monochromatic, gradations being made as a result of the pressure applied to the wood block. Polychromy appeared later, red first of all (beni), then orange derived from lead compounds (tan). The appearance of colour complicated the printing technique insofar as each colour required its own piece of wood. For the polychrome prints the proofs were pasted to new blocks and the areas of the design to be coloured with a particular colour left in relief. The blocks served as stamps and each block printed at least one colour in the final image. Using a measured pressure, part of the colour was absorbed by the body of the paper and on the tips of the fibres the transparency was left to shimmer on its own, creating the impression of colour under enamel. The resulting set of wooden blocks was inked in the various colours and applied successively to the paper. The complete print held the patterns of each one of the blocks. In certain prints the coloured parts were applied with a brush after a single printing. This process is known as beni-e*. When more than one block was used, as in multicoloured prints, the successive printings were aligned by marks made in the corners of the paper. The coloured inks applied to the early blocks were extracted using unknown processes, but the appearance of inexpensive pigments led to the decline of the most special character of this art.
The coloured prints of Utamaro are, as Edmond de Goncourt wrote, a “miracle of art” in which he brought these impressions to an absolute and unsurpassable degree of perfection. The influence of Utamaro, Hiroshige and other masters of Ukiyo-e* revolutionised the sense of colour in the world of art. His keen sense of observation and his technical mastery are perceptible in his marvellous studies of women. He was the first Japanese artist to depart from the traditional treatment of faces. The academic style required the nose to be suggested by an aquiline, calligraphic stroke, the eyes by simple slits, the mouth by a curved flower petal. Utamaro mixed into this unnatural convention a slightly mischievous grace, a spiritual understanding. He kept the traditional lines but brought them closer to human shapes. None of the anatomical details, the graceful lines, the delightful contours of these Japanese women whether lying or standing, escaped his eye. Each of these “feminine figures” took on a true individuality; he was an idealist, who made “a courtesan into a goddess”.
Mother Breastfeeding her Child.
Ōban, nishiki-e, 38.5 × 24.5 cm.
Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris.
Two Young Women with a Child.
Ōban, nishiki-e, 36.8 × 25.1 cm.
Bibliothèque nationale de France, Paris.
Summer Bath, from the series “Seven Episodes of Ono no”, early 19th century. Ōban, nishiki-e, 38 × 25.5 cm.
Victoria & Albert Museum, London.
1. Prints (Nishiki-e)
Utamaro produced an enormous number of images in colour, large polychromatic prints. The nishiki-e* is an Ukiyo-e* combining more than two colours. In them Utamaro attains “the ultimate in beauty and luxury.” These marvellous prints, generally made by using three, five, or even seven blocks, in this land of screens and sliding doors, are mounted side by side, one after the other, with no glass to protect such charming moving wall coverings from exposure to the air. Occasionally works by famous masters were incorporated into the border of a fabric, or sealed in lacquer. These prints were done in a variety of formats. They dealt with a wide range of themes, but the principal tendencies