GOLD POWDER AND GUNPOWDER: THE APPROPRIATION OF WESTERN FIREARMS INTO JAPAN THROUGH HIGH CULTURE by Seth Robert Baldridge A thesis submitted to the faculty of The University of Utah in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in Art History Department of Art and Art History The University of Utah August 2015
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GOLD POWDER AND GUNPOWDER: THE APPROPRIATION OF WESTERN
FIREARMS INTO JAPAN THROUGH HIGH CULTURE
by
Seth Robert Baldridge
A thesis submitted to the faculty of
The University of Utah
in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
Since the Jōmon period (ca. 8000 to 300 B.C.), Japanese artisans have been
producing works covered by lacquer.4 According to Beatrix Von Ragué, the earliest
known lacquers can be dated from the third century B.C. and the fourth century A.D.
Most of these works were tools or weapons that benefited from the protective qualities of
lacquer, but after the establishment of Buddhist culture in the sixth century, lacquer
began to see use in the crafting of fine works of art. With influences from both the
Chinese and Koreans, Japanese lacquerworks eventually evolved to achieve extremely
high standards of craftsmanship.5
The earliest examples of lacquerworks are shrines and sculptures, objects built for
religious functions.6 More secular treasures such as musical instruments, boxes, and
weapons were also common in the early days of lacquer.7 Some works were undecorated,
but there were others that were beautifully detailed with silver and gold inlays with
motifs of mostly flora and fauna.8 Mother-of-pearl inlays were adapted from Chinese
works, and the use of this technique went in and out of style as the centuries passed.9 The
early use of ground gold and silver powder was called kingin-e (gold and silver design),
which originated in China and marked a step toward the typical black, gold, and silver
4 Andrew J. Pekarik, Japanese Lacquer, 1600-1900: Selections from the Charles A. Greenfield Collection
(New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1980), 12. 5 Beatrix Von Ragué, A History of Japanese Lacquerwork (Toronto and Buffalo: University of Toronto
Press, 1976), 4-5. 6 Ibid., 6-7.
7 Ibid., 10.
8 Ibid., 12-14.
9 Ibid., 14.
6
color schemes that Japanese lacquers would become famous for.10
This developed into
the more permanent technique of maki-e (sprinkled design) later on in the Heian period
(794-1185).11
Typically, the laborious process behind maki-e decoration requires that the
design be first drawn in the lacquer, then metal powder, usually gold, silver, or a mixture
of both, is sprinkled into the design before the lacquer hardens. The powder sticks to the
drawn portions, and becomes an equally smooth part of the surface once it has been dried
and polished.12
Centuries later, in the short yet crucial Momoyama period, a wealth of new
artistic influences accompanied the arrival of Europeans and the invasions of Korea by
the powerful daimyō (a feudal lord) and unifier of Japan Toyotomi Hideyoshi (1537-
1598).13
Despite the influx of new ideas, many past traditions of lacquer were preserved.
Additionally, the uses of lacquer during this time were seemingly limitless. To help early
Westerners understand just how important lacquer was to Japan, the Jesuit missionary
João Rodrigues (1561-1633) wrote “there is a universal art throughout the whole
kingdom that has something in common with painting. This is the art of varnishing,
which we call here uruxar, from the word urush.” 14
He continues to describe that this
“varnish” is used in crafting “all their tableware, such as bowls, tables, and other vessels
and utensils, as well as the tables and trays from which they eat” to “the handles of lances,
and the sheathes of their blades, and a multitude of other things.” 15
And according to this
10
Ibid., 15-16. 11
Ibid., 18. 12
Andrew Pekarik, “Lacquer and Metalwork,” in Japan’s Golden Age: Momoyama, ed. Money L.
Hickman (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1996), 237. 13
Ragué, A History of Japanese Lacquerwork, 142. 14
Watsky, Chikubushima, 166. 15
Ibid., 167.
7
third-party observer, the beauty of Japanese lacquerwares exceeded even that of the
Chinese.16
Lacquerworks from the Momoyama period are often divided into groups, which
can vary in number depending on the scholar. Ragué identifies three groups: the
traditional style, the Kōdaiji style, and Namban lacquers.17
The so-called traditional style is often a blanket term for lacquerware styles that
had been developed previous to the Momoyama period and saw continued use among the
new trends that began to spring up (Fig. 2). Barbra Teri Okada, however, refers to this
group as the Higashiyama style, which was introduced during the Muromachi period
(1336-1573) and exemplified by the works of Igarashi Shinsai (active in the mid-fifteenth
century). Flourishing under the indulgent Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimasa (1436-1490),
Higashiyama lacquer designs derived inspiration from popular contemporary painters
such as Tosa Mistsunobu (1434-1525), Nō’ami (1397-1471), Sō’ami (died 1525), and the
Kanō school, whose style was based on Chinese painting techniques.18
However, as the
popularity of the newer Kōdaiji style increased, patronage for the Igarashi family
eventually subsided.19
Kōdaiji style works broke the bonds of traditional styles by using new techniques
and new subjects, and were said to be particularly prized by Hideyoshi and his wife (Fig.
3).20
The name is derived from the Kōdaiji temple (completed, c. 1605) in Kyoto, which
housed several lacquer objects in this style. Still existing parts of the ruined Fushimi
16
Ibid., 172. 17
Ragué, A History of Japanese Lacquerwork, 143. 18
Barbra Teri Okada, A Sprinkling of Gold: The Lacquer Box Collection of Elaine Ehrenkranz (Newark:
The Newark Museum, 1983), 32. 19
Barbra Teri Okada, Symbol and Substance in Japanese Lacquer: Lacquer Boxes from the Collection of
Elaine Ehrenkranz (New York: Weatherhill, Inc., 1995), 30. 20
Ragué, A History of Japanese Lacquerwork, 149.
8
Castle (completed, c. 1594) were incorporated into the temple structure, and of special
note is the Mitamaya room (Fig. 4). Lacquer covers several parts of the interior, including
the stairs, banisters, and the doors. Blades of grass and crests decorate the glossy black
surfaces.21
Other common motifs associated with Kōdaiji lacquers are chrysanthemums,
pines, bamboo, and other autumn plants. They are not usually depicted as part of a
landscape, but rather hang in an untethered space. They also lack any literary allusions.22
The techniques that go into making Kōdaiji lacquers are also notably simple. Rather than
polishing the gold powder after it has been sprinkled on, the artist controls the density
while sprinkling.23
Artists also used needles to pick out fine lines in the surface before it
completely dries.24
Generally speaking, Namban lacquers are works that were inspired by the
relations with the Portuguese, who arrived in 1543. The Japanese called these foreign
visitors Namban (southern barbarians), a word borrowed from Chinese that generally
referred to the less-developed peoples of Southeast Asia.25
Within this lacquer group,
there are three subcategories. Some works depicted foreigners or things associated with
them. There were also objects commissioned by foreigners for international trade or use
in Christian worship. Finally, there were lacquerwares that were influenced by the
Western presence, but despite neither representing foreigners nor serving their purposes,
are still categorized as Namban works for stylistic reasons.26
Foreign techniques such as
mother-of-pearl inlays and geometric patterns were favored over traditional lacquer-
21
Ibid., 151. 22
Ibid., 152. 23
Ibid., 154. 24
Ibid., 154. 25
R.S.C., “Nanban Art,” Bulletin (St. Louis Art Museum), New Series, 8:6 (1973): 90. 26
Ragué, A History of Japanese Lacquerwork, 154-55.
9
making techniques (Fig. 5). Unfortunately, due to the ban on Christianity and the
subsequent iconoclasm of Christian objects, there are relatively few existing examples.27
In addition to these three groups, Andrew J. Pekarik suggests a fourth group that
consists of works associated with designer and connoisseur Hon’ami Kōetsu (1558-1637).
While they are crafted using traditional techniques, the subjects are typically taken from
classical literature, usually in the form of isolated close-ups (Fig. 6).28
In addition to
lacquers, Kōetsu was also known for his love of poetry and literature, and had an
impressive collection of both printed and handwritten scrolls.29
This might explain why
the lacquer objects associated with him often depicted literary scenes. According to
Michael Knight, Kōetsu, along with Tawaraya Sōtatsu (active early seventeenth century)
would go on to establish the Rimpa school, which would produce many fine Edo period
(1603-1868) lacquerwares out of Kyoto.30
27
Okada, Symbol and Substance in Japanese Lacquer, 29. 28
Pekarik, “Lacquer and Metalwork,” 238. 29
Miyeko Murase ed., Turning Point: Oribe and the Arts of Sixteenth-Century Japan (New York: The
Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003), 14. 30
Michael Knight, East Asian Lacquers in the Collection of the Seattle Art Museum (Seattle: Seattle Art
Museum, 1992), 23.
10
Figure 2. Writing utensil box with design of Hatsuse mountain landscape and
monkeys, late 16th
century. Lacquer on wood base, hiramaki-e, takamaki-e, applied
metal, 22.4 x 21.2 x 4.5 cm. Tokyo National Museum.
11
Figure 3. Portable chest of drawers for incense with design of autumn grasses, late 16th
to early 17th
century. Lacquer on wood base, hiramaki-e, 18.8 x 24.4 x 19.2 cm. Tokyo
National Museum.
12
Figure 4. Mitamaya (Spirit House), ca. 1594. Decorated in black lacquer
with maki-e. Shrine in the Kōdaiji temple, Kyoto, originally in Fushimi
Castle.
13
Figure 5. Tankard, 1600-1620. Wood covered with black and gold lacquer inlaid
In this scene of storms and calamities raging at the arrival of a supernatural
creature, the elements of nature are described as swirling in a chaotic torrent. To help
achieve this effect, the instruments play all together in an intense and rapid style.
It is not unreasonable to venture that this same musical method could be used to
illustrate the chaos of a battlefield. Like in the coming of the fearsome mountain ogre,
during which the instruments (and symbolically, the elements) came together in a full and
buoyant burst of energy, they could do the same to represent the eruption of a battle,
filled with charging horses, raging flames, pouring blood, cries of warriors, and blasts of
gunfire. In such a performance, it would not have been unexpected for audiences to
compare the beats of drums to the sound of gunshots. This is not to say that each
drumbeat is intended to represent a gunshot. Drums are also used in the quieter scenes,
and possess the potential to represent many things, not just loud noises. However, the
range of interpretive possibilities lies with each audience member, and is not set in stone.
Many of the connections that have been made between the potentiality in objects,
symbolic functions, and sound aesthetics have been suggested without firm knowledge
that this ōtsuzumi drum was made for these purposes. However, unapparent meanings
like these are part of an important aesthetic principle called yūgen. The exact definition of
this term is debatable, and there is no direct translation into English, but it has been
described as “half-revealed or suggested beauty, at once elusive and meaningful, tinged
with wistful sadness.” 74
Yūgen has its roots in poetry, but it was integrated into noh by
Zeami, who developed the concept by combining it with existing noh ideals such as
monomane (mime or imitation). Zeami continued to enlarge and elevate his concept of
74
Andrew T. Tsubaki, “Zeami and the Transition of the Concept of Yūgen : A Note on Japanese
Aesthetics,” The Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, 30:1 (1971): 57.
35
yūgen in noh, developing it into an aesthetic that emphasized subtlety over obviousness.75
Other experts have described it as beauty found in hidden depths, mystery, profundity
that is like darkness, and impossible to fully comprehend with physical sight alone. There
are also connotations of insubstantiality and impermanence, as well as a rejection of
useless decoration.76
Audience members and performers would have arrived at the interpretive
possibilities* I described earlier only through careful thought and consideration (subtlety
over obviousness). These representational aspects of the ōtsuzumi, combined with the
dichotomy of the physical (the arquebus motif) and the metaphysical (the void), make
this object an appropriate manifestation of the yūgen aesthetic. In addition, there are
formal qualities of the drum that indicate the influence of yūgen.
In order to understand how the Kobe Museum drum visually exemplifies yūgen,
let us first examine an example of sumi-e (monochrome ink painting), a genre of art that
adheres to the philosophies of yūgen. A particularly well-known sumi-e is Sesshū Tōyō’s
(1420-1506) Splashed Ink Landscape (1495) (Fig. 9). In sumi-e, there is a tension
between the object, which is given substance with ink, and the void, which is created
through the absence of ink. These two sides are believed to represent the opposing forces
yang and yin in Daoism, a major influence over Asian aesthetics.77
In Sesshū's painting,
we can see this tension created through different light values in the ink. An open sky and
a body of water are suggested by the blank spaces of the painting. Jet black strokes
construct a building on the bank, thick layers of foliage, and a tiny boat with two seated
75
Ibid., 55. 76
Steve Odin, “The Penumbral Shadows: A Whiteheadian Perspective on the Yūgen Style of Art and
Literature in Japanese Aesthetics,” Japanese Journal of Religious Studies, 12:1 (1985): 74-75, 84. * I avoid using the word “conclusions” because that would seem to contradict what yūgen is about.
77 Ibid., 81.
36
figures. The rest of the landscape and the vegetation are created through lighter, yet still
discernible strokes of grey. The left side of the frame shows traces of light ink splashes,
giving it a misty quality. This haze continues upward, gradually solidifying into a group
of mountain peaks.78
This transparent layer conceals the boundaries between the physical
and the spiritual, creating an “unobstructed interfusion of solid and void.” 79
In the lacquer ōtsuzumi, we can see a similar representation of the object and the
void. The base color of the ōtsuzumi is black, which represents the incomprehensive
darkness that yūgen emphasizes so heavily. Meanwhile, the rifles, powder horns, and
cords laid out in gold powder are objects of unquestionable visibility and substance.
There are no unnecessary decorations to distract the viewer, and no extra details that
would even attempt to create a sense of realism. There is no physical plane depicted
within the drum’s frame for the rifles, so they are suspended in an undefined space. This
is where the tension between the physical and the metaphysical is represented, and this is
where yūgen and the aesthetics of noh and sumi-e manifest themselves in the ōtsuzumi.
It is important to note, however, that there are several differences that exist
between these two mediums. While the object and the void are both present in the lacquer
ōtsuzumi, they are much more firmly divided than in a sumi-e painting. Varying degrees
of thickness in the ink application of sumi-e create a seamless flow between abstraction
and reality, whereas in the ōtsuzumi, the outlines of the objects are well-defined. In
addition, the designs of the arquebuses in the ōtsuzumi are not abstracted to the same
degree that subject matter is in sumi-e. The qualities of raw emotion, lack of intention,
78
Yukio Lippit, “Of Modes and Manners in Japanese Ink Painting: Sesshū’s Splashed Ink Landscape of
1495,” The Art Bulletin, 94:1 (2012): 54. 79
Odin, “The Penumbral Shadows,” 79.
37
and spontaneity, which are prominent features of sumi-e, are not as obvious in our
ōtsuzumi.
Even so, we can still see in the ōtsuzumi a similar kind of dichotomy of the
tangible and intangible that exists in sumi-e paintings. And it should be emphasized that
one of the most treasured qualities of yūgen is the inability to completely comprehend it.
But despite the difficulty in assessing its presence in works of art, it has had lasting
impacts on more than just painting, but also poetry, drama, gardens, tea ceremony, and
other activities. Sumi-e is just one of, albeit arguably the most effective, means of
visually portraying this abstract concept.80
But that does not necessarily make it the only
one.
80
Odin, “The Penumbral Shadows,” 78.
38
Figure 9. Sesshū Tōyō, detail from Splashed Ink Landscape, 1495.
Vertical hanging scroll, ink on paper, 147.9 x 32.7 cm. Tokyo National
Museum.
39
THE DECLINE OF THE GUN
Despite the potential layers of meaning within the Kobe Museum’s lacquer
ōtsuzumi, it is the only example of an artwork that features the arquebus in such a
prominent and focused way. So it begs the question: why would such a remarkable and
era-defining object like the arquebus receive so little attention in the arts? According to
Noel Perrin, there are multiple reasons, many of them pertaining to the aesthetic
sensibilities of the Japanese.
While many people may take this for granted, it is helpful to be reminded that the
samurai had deep-set traditions relating to conduct and honor on the battlefield. Rather
than two forces colliding in a chaotic fray, combatants often paired off, resulting in
dramatic duels that were decided by individual skill and quality of equipment. It was also
customary to introduce oneself to one’s opponent, a formality done out of respect. It was
from such traditions that many of Japan’s heroic narratives originated.81
The introduction of firearms changed all of this. Brave warriors who charged into
the battle were at a sore disadvantage, as unskilled yeomen were able to kill samurai
simply by pulling a trigger. The one-on-one battles that could earn honor and distinction
were taken away, and highly trained samurai were outraged to learn that they could be so
easily killed by the lower classes. Conflicting attitudes about firearms emerged, some
At least in my own research, which has been expansive across Japanese lacquerworks, there has been
nothing like this object. 81
Noel Perrin, Giving Up the Gun: Japan’s Reversion to the Sword, 1543-1879 (Boston: David R. Godin,
Publisher, 1979), 23-24.
40
recognizing their superiority as long-range weapons, and others insisting that they were
not weapons of a true warrior.82
Perrin lists 5 reasons why Japan decided to turn away from the development of
firearms:
1. The samurai felt that firearms were getting out of hand, and making up a
sizeable portion of the population (at least in comparison to the warrior
classes of Europe), the voice of opposition against guns was greater.83
2. The samurai felt that they were fully capable of defending themselves
from foreign invasion with conventional weapons. They had proven to the
Chinese, and the Koreans, and even to the Spanish that they were not a
force to be trifled with, and did not worry about being threatened with
invasion. In addition, the Sengoku (warring states) period, during which
guns had been used to the greatest extent, had ended, so civil conflicts
were no longer a high priority.84
After 1637, firearms were not widely
used again until the nineteenth century.85
3. The symbolic value of Japanese swords would have been too much to lose
if they were replaced by guns. Swords were considered to be the very
embodiment of personal and family honor, ideals which were reflected in
their exquisite craftsmanship. Swords were often given as gifts from the
government to reward the most exceptional acts of service. But even the
82
Ibid., 25. 83
Ibid., 33-35. 1467-1603. While the Muromachi and Momoyama periods refer to the people who were in power at the
time, Sengoku refers to the century and a half of civil war. The term “Sengoku” originates from the ancient
Chinese period of warring states. 84
Ibid., 35. 85
Ibid., 65.
41
most ornate and luxuriant swords were not meant purely for display; they
were also made to be used in battle.86
4. Guns, along with Christianity and Western business practices, were
rejected by many as outside ideas.87
The Sakoku Edict, which began a
period of national isolation when foreign relations were strictly regulated
and limited to the port city of Nagasaki, is the most apparent effect of
these attitudes.
5. The symbolic value of swords aside, the aesthetics of martial arts and
body movements associated with swordplay were held in high regard.88
There were very rigid rules about how one should sit, stand, and kneel,
and these rules were expressed in rituals like noh and the tea ceremony.
While the movements made by a soldier wielding a two-handed sword
will adhere to the aesthetics of body movements, a person firing an
arquebus will not. This is evidenced by a late sixteenth-century manual
that was made to instruct soldiers on how to properly use firearms. The
manual is full of comments that actually apologize to the reader for having
to assume uncomfortable and aesthetically displeasing positions. However,
the author does try his hardest to keep the prescribed movements as close
to those used in swordsmanship. Wars demanded “ugly efficiency,” but
when the wars ended, tastes were refined once again.89
86
Ibid., 36-38. 87
Ibid., 41-42. 88
Ibid., 42. 89
Ibid., 42-45.
42
Perrin’s findings show that there were divided attitudes about the position that
guns should have in early modern Japanese society. While firearms did experience an
explosive period of popularity during the height of the Sengoku period, they receded as
the wars were replaced by the peace of the Edo period. Olof Lidin notes that in the
eighteenth century, some gun foundries were allowed by the government to produce
hunting guns for private commerce, but the number of gun-producing families and
foundries decreased overall.90
This would help explain why there are so few examples of
artworks that focus on firearms in the way that our ōtsuzumi does.
Despite the opposition against guns, there still were many voices that supported
their use. Firearms in the hands of unskilled peasants allowed them to have opportunities
to serve their lords on the battlefield, which surely would have been welcome to many. In
addition, the nature of the lacquer medium, according to Melvin and Betty Jahss, is a very
personal one. “A masterpiece of painting or handicraft is not simply a work of art to be
placed in a museum but the symbolic representation of the artist’s inner religious and
aesthetic feelings toward his subject matter.” 91
The Kobe Museum has no information on
the creator of its lacquer ōtsuzumi, but there are some things that we can reasonably
assume: the artist liked or at least appreciated and understood guns. Perhaps he or
someone he knew was able to improve their lot in life by serving in battle, and firearms
may have made it possible to do so. Judging from the articulate details of the motif, and
the time period that the object was made in, the artist himself may have very well owned
a gun.
90
Lidin, Tanegashima, 153. 91
Jahss, Inro and Other Miniature Forms of Japanese Lacquer Art, 55.
43
While art featuring firearms made at the height of their popularity is scarce, there
are some examples made centuries later. For example, there are at least three existing
nineteenth-century ukiyo-e (wood block prints) works produced by the Utagawa school
featuring kabuki actors dressed as characters holding guns. To an extent, these prints
indicate that firearms were able to retain a place in Japanese arts and culture well after
gun production began to decline. One such print is held in the British Museum (Fig. 10).
In this print, the kabuki actor Ichikawa Ebizō (1791-1859) portrays the samurai Saitō
Dōsan (1494-1556). Posed in a typical kabuki stance, he holds a rifle pointed barrel-down
in his left hand. The rifle is held vertically down the middle of the print, placing it in a
position of notable prominence.
44
Figure 10. Utagawa Kunisada, Ichikawa Ebizō as Saitō Dōsan, 1836. Half of color
woodblock print diptych. British Museum, London.
45
THE SURVIVAL OF THE ŌTSUZUMI
The widely divided opinions on firearms may have been why there are so few
existing objects like the Kobe ōtsuzumi, but many artworks also influenced by the
Namban exchange were actively sought out and destroyed for other reasons. The earliest
examples of Namban art are gone, though it is assumed that most of what was lost was
religious in nature. After the missionaries were exiled from Japan, the Tokugawa
shogunate illegalized Christianity and a mass iconoclasm of Christian images destroyed
much of what had been created during the Namban exchange. Even objects of a secular
nature were destroyed, and most of what exists today had been hidden away.92
Would images of Western firearms been viewed with the same xenophobia as
images of Jesus Christ or other Western subjects? Opinions on this matter were most
likely divided. By the time of the official expulsion edict that banned Christian
missionaries, guns had been an established part of the Japanese military, and gunsmiths
had mastered their craft. Previously, the daimyō had relied on appeasing foreigners to
acquire these weapons. Some daimyō converted to Christianity just to get more of them.
Even years after the declaration of the Sakoku Edict, guns may have been acknowledged
as a Japanese item, rather than a foreign import. Since guns had become such an
important and common part of life in Japan, images of guns may not have been seen by
all as a blemish left behind by the “barbarians from the south.”
92
Money L. Hickman, “Painting,” in Japan’s Golden Age: Momoyama, ed. Money L. Hickman (New
Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1996), 146.
46
Despite the usefulness of firearms, they may have still retained a lingering
association with Christianity that some of the daimyō would have had a hard time
ignoring. Perfectly embodying this association is an arquebus decorated with imagery
inspired by events from the life of Jesus Christ, such as his teaching ministry and the
Passion. The barrel is divided into six sections, the first of which represents Christ’s face
on the Veil of Veronica. The second section depicts grapes on a shield (referencing
Christ’s transformation of water into wine in the New Testament). The third section
shows several objects present at the Crucifixion, including the dice used by the Roman
soldiers to determine who would keep Christ’s clothing, the Lance of Longinus, the
branch attached to the vinegar soaked sponge, and the bag of 30 silver coins given to
Judas. The fourth section consists of the cross, the crown of thorns, the tools used to nail
Christ to the cross, a skull (referencing the name of Golgotha, “the place of a skull”), and
the cock that crowed when Peter denied him. The fifth section is marked by the Virgin
Mary surrounded by an oval rosary, and the sixth section shows the Sacred Heart under a
winged angel, a block of stone, a cross, a dove, and five fish and two loaves of bread
from the feeding of the crowd (in the Biblical account, Christ used two fish and five
loaves, so this was obviously an error on the part of the artist, who may not have had
access to a Bible).93
The rifle was apparently commissioned by the Arima clan, the governing power
of the Harima province.94
The daimyō, Harunobu (1567-1612), was just one of the
several who were baptized by the Jesuits during their time in Japan. However, unlike
93
John Harding, “A very important and very rare Japanese Namban arquebus from the Momoyama period,
representing the instruments of the Passion of the Christ,” translated by Jennifer Sales, Bulletin 41 (1993):
10-12. 94
Ibid., 13.
47
many of his peers, who only feigned faith to get access to more weapons, Harunobu
stayed a faithful Christian until his execution, but his successor, his son Naozumi (1586-
1641), recanted his Christian belief and reluctantly aided in the persecution of Japanese
Christians.95
The Shimabara Rebellion of 1637 represented the greatest fears of the shogunate
in the wake of the expulsion of the missionaries. Twenty years after the expulsion edict,
several thousand landless samurai and about 20,000 Christians banded together in an
armed uprising, seizing Hara Castle (completed, c. 1616) and an armory consisting of
several hundred guns. They managed to hold out for a time, killing thousands of
besiegers, but were eventually wiped out by the government army, who also would have
used firearms.96
In such a bloody conflict over religion, weapons like the arquebus commissioned
by the Arima clan would have carried powerful symbolic meaning for both Christians
and anti-Christians. For Christians, it would have been a symbol of their faith, both in
God, and in the power of the miraculous weapons that made it possible for the lowliest
peasant to defeat their oppressors, the highly trained samurai. For the shogunate, the
sacred icons covering the barrel of the inelegant killing tool was a reminder of what their
foreign visitors had left behind them: a dangerous religion and the means to fight for it.
Since the rebellion failed, it is miraculous that the gun has survived the centuries (most
likely it was kept secret by a hidden Christian).
The rebellion was a terrible reminder of the power that guns had to transform a
rabble of disgruntled commoners into a powerful force. Fear of future rebellion would
95
Boxer, The Christian Century in Japan, 315. 96
Perrin, Giving Up the Gun, 65.
48
have motivated the shogunate to strictly regulate the production of firearms. This event
surely would have further complicated the divided opinions on gun control during the
Edo period. While guns gave confidence to the rebels at Shimabara, guns also helped to
put them down. For some, firearms would have been viewed as a tool for sparking
dishonorable conflicts; for others, it would have represented a means for maintaining the
peace.
Unlike the Arima family arquebus, which reinforced the connection between
Christianity and firearms, the Kobe ōtsuzumi represents a visual disassociation between
the two. The absence of figures in the frame is an aspect worth noticing. Many of the
Namban lacquer works that feature some kind of European subject matter are decorated
with images of Portuguese people. They are immediately recognizable by their billowing
pantaloons, lace collars, hats, stockings, or Western swords (Fig. 11). However, most of
the weapons they are shown to be holding are either swords or spears. Meanwhile, the
lacquer drum with the arquebus motif contains no images of figures at all. It is almost as
if the Portuguese visitors and the valuable weapons they brought with them were being
separated from each other by the Japanese through visual arts. Alexandra Curvelo
observes that in art produced in Japan before relations were established with the
Portuguese, foreigners were represented in a distant territory, outside of the kingdom.
After the Portuguese made contact, the “other” was no longer there, but “here,” becoming
part of the human landscape in painting.97
In the case of the lacquer drum, the firearm
that was once brought over by the “other” is now left on its own—its foreign origins have
been omitted from the frame. The disassociation of the guns from the Portuguese may
97
Alexandra Curvelo, “The Disruptive Presence of the Namban-jin in Early Modern Japan,” in Journal of
the Economic and Social History of the Orient 55(2012): 591-2.
49
have helped to mark the arquebus as a Japanese item, rather than an import with ties to a
dangerous foreign religion.
Lacquer was a commonly used material in the decoration of armor and weapons.
Scabbards, helmets, even firearms themselves were sometimes coated in black lacquer
and decorated with gold powder (Fig. 12). Just like instruments associated with noh were
expected to be of the highest quality, the same standard may have been held to
instruments of war (at least to a certain degree). As most samurai were considered the
noble class of the time, it can be expected that they could afford weapons and armor
made of the finest materials. The special importance placed on the relationship between a
samurai and his weapons would amplify their desire to acquire such expertly made
objects. Finely decorated weapons would have also served as a sign of the wealth, rank,
and power of a samurai’s family.98
There is one other quality of lacquer works that makes them a fitting medium for
the appropriation of a foreign motif into another culture—they are built to last. Lacquer
possesses a natural resistance to dampness and heat, and is very durable. Many lacquer
works crafted in ancient times are still in good condition, such as the lacquer paintings
kept in the 1300-year-old Tamamushi-no-zushi shrine at the Hōryūji temple (completed,
c. 607) in Nara.99
Sometimes artists will craft cheap imitations, but these will not hold up
as well as genuine lacquerware. There was an incident in the Meiji era during which the
Japanese government sent specimens of old and new* lacquer works to the Vienna
Exhibition of 1872. During their voyage back to Japan on the S.S. Nile, the ship was
98
“Matchlock pistol,” Asian Art Museum of San Francisco, accessed November 7, 2014. 99
Yoshino, Japanese Lacquer Ware, 16. * The “old” likely refers to the lacquer works made by patient masters of the premodern period, and “new”
to the works that had been created in a rush to satisfy the demands of the foreign market of the nineteenth
century.
50
wrecked just off the coast. After 18 months underwater, the works were recovered. The
ones that had been crafted in the old style were completely undamaged, while the new
works had been ruined.100
In the 1930s, it become known that lacquer could resist the
corrosive effects of sea air, and came to be used in the interior decorating of Japanese
passenger boats.101
There is no written evidence that says our particular lacquer drum was made in
the old, masterly style, but there are clues that indicate that it was. We know that
instruments created for noh drama were expected to be of the highest quality, so cutting
corners while making this drum would not have been permitted. According to Watsky,
pre-Momoyama era lacquers were known for their intricate and complex design. A 1566
lacquered drum base decorated with holly leaves and diamond shapes provides an
example of this high quality (Fig. 13).102
Much like the Kobe Museum drum, this drum is
decorated with overlapping images placed in an undefined space. The serrated edges of
the leaves placed against the straight lines of the diamonds form small pockets, revealing
the lustrous black background. Watsky observes that the two overlapping motifs are
depicted with different types of gold powder. In order to give the motifs clearly defined
borders, the artist would have had to sprinkle, lacquer-coat, and wait for the first motif to
harden before he could start on the next one. In addition, painstaking precision was
needed to carefully outline each motif over the curved surface of the drum.103
We can see
that the Kobe drum base was made with the same rigorous technical standards. Finally,
the fact that the drum still exists today supports the claim that it was not cheaply made.
100
Mody, “Japanese Lacquer,” 294. 101
Yoshino, Japanese Lacquer Ware, 17. 102
Watsky, Chikubushima, 183-4. 103
Ibid., 184.
51
The permanence of the medium of high-quality lacquer hints at the idea that the arquebus
motif captured within the work was meant to be a lasting one.
52
Figure 11. Writing utensil box with maki-e motif of Southern Barbarian and dog,
early 17th
century. Lacquer on wood base, gold maki-e, 4.1 x 22 x 20.9 cm. Kobe
City Museum.
Figure 12. Matchlock pistol, early 17th
century to mid-19th
century. Iron, wood, lacquer,
gold, and silver, 9.5 x 32.4 cm. Asian Art Museum of San Francisco.
53
Figure 13. Drum body, dated 1566. Maki-e lacquer on
wood. Tokyo National Museum.
54
THE ŌTSUZUMI IN GLOBAL TRADE
While this ōtsuzumi bears a motif inspired by a Western commodity and would
have been valued by Western collectors for its elegant design, the function of the object
suggests that it was not commissioned as an item for trade. During the Namban exchange,
there was no shortage of fine lacquerware that would have better catered to a global
market. The previously mentioned black and gold lacquer tankard, commissioned by the
Portuguese and crafted in the same era as the drum, is just one example (Fig. 5). In
addition, it was unlikely that any Portuguese had any interest in bringing back noh to
their homeland. Father Luís Fróis (1532-1597), the missionary and scholar, wrote that
“we cannot stand the music of the Japanese nobility.”104
To those unfamiliar with it, noh
can seem painfully slow in execution and overly thin in narrative.105
While considering what is present in the object’s design is invaluable in its
analysis, it is also worthwhile to discuss what is missing from the object. Many Namban
lacquer works were inlaid with mother-of-pearl to increase the value. There are numerous
examples of this, such as the tankard (Fig. 5). A Namban coffer, held by the Victoria and
Albert Museum, is another example of fine lacquerware with mother-of-pearl (Fig. 14).
Both of these objects are Western in shape and function, but distinctly Eastern in terms of
decoration and material, marking them as objects designed for Western patrons. Oliver
Impey notes in Modern Asian Studies that certain inventory records revealed that Dutch
104
Clive Willis, “Captain Jorge Alvares and Father Luís Fróis S.J.: Two Early Portuguese Descriptions of
Japan and the Japanese,” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 22:2 (2012): 432. 105
Varley, Japanese Culture, 114-115.
55
trade from the 1630s onward was dominated mostly by cabinets, coffers, and flat-topped
chests.106
While these documents would have been created a few decades after the
Momoyama period, they still stand as strong evidence of the popularity of Western
objects with Eastern ornamentation―as long as the object itself functioned within the
cultural practices of Western society.
Conversely, objects with a Japanese cultural function, such as the writing utensil
box (Fig. 2), chest of drawers for incense (Fig. 3.), and the shelves with the Genji motif
(Fig. 6), were designed without any pearl. While this may not be the absolute threshold
marking whether an object was intended for international or domestic markets, it does
seem to indicate that there was a trend toward using mother-of-pearl for exports.
An entry from The Rijksmuseum Bulletin sheds some further light on why mother-
of-pearl was seen mostly on exported items:
The Europeans’ fascination with Oriental objects never stopped them from
interfering in the way things looked…The combination of lacquer work
and mother-of-pearl was influenced by Gujarat work from India:
varnished objects lavishly inlaid with pieces of mother-of-pearl, in which
Portuguese had already been actively trading before they arrived in Japan,
and which they had doubtless taken with them to Japan as examples. The
shapes of the namban lacquer work objects…are almost always
European...Namban lacquer work is thus an interesting outcome of the
contact between Japanese lacquer workers and Portuguese traders.107
Our ōtsuzumi drum’s lack of mother-of-pearl indicates that it was not likely
intended as an export. In fact, adding the hard shells would have likely been viewed as
impractical, since the drum would have been regularly handled by a performer. It is
possible that the quality of the sound may have also been affected by adding the extra
weight of this type of adornment. Additionally, since mother-of-pearl was so clearly
106
Oliver Impey, “Japanese Export Art of the Edo Period and Its Influence on European Art,” Modern
Asian Studies, 18:4 (1984): 687. 107
“Acquisitions: Fine & Decorative Arts,” The Rijksmuseum Bulletin, 57:4 (2009): 344.
56
popular with foreign patrons, it would have been more lucrative for merchants to keep it
within the international markets.
It is important to note, however, that lacquer works decorated with mother-of-
pearl were not something that began with the Namban trade. It actually goes back as far
as the eighth century.108
What we can gather from this is that during the Namban trade,
works decorated with mother-of-pearl were in higher demand in the international market.
The drum thus would have likely been made with the intent of keeping it within the
sphere of use in Japanese drama.
108
Mody, “Japanese Lacquer,” 291.
57
Figure 14. Coffer, late 16
th to early 17
th century. Wood covered with plates of shell held
by gilded copper rivets and black and gold hiramaki-e lacquer, gilt metal fittings, 85.2 x