Lady Koogimi (or Kodai no Kimi) was active during the reign of Emperor Ichijo (r.986-1101). She held a minor position in the Office of Palace Women serving his cousin Emperor Sanjo (976-1017; r.1011-1016) while he was crown prince. She probably died in the early eleventh century. During her lifetime she was a highly regarded poet. She was one of only five women to be included by the poet and critic Fujiwara no Kinto (966-1041) in his list of the leading poets of Japan, the Thirty-six Immortal Poets, which he compiled around the year 1012. Kinto's anthology, called the Sanjorokunin sen (Selection of Thirty-six Poets), is an imaginary poetry competition between two teams, each with eighteen famous poets.

The inscription to the right of her portrait gives her name, genealogy/biography, title, and a poem (a 31-syllable waka). The poem is transcribed in cursive script in two long lines:

Koogimi
Sanjo-in cho'i [no] toki nyokurodo meisho
Sakon
Ichijo Sanjo

Iwahashi no
yoru no chigiri mo
taenubeshi
akuru wabishiki
Kazuraki no kami.

Koogimi, who served as a Lady Chamberlain during the time when Retired Emperor Sanjo was crown prince, was known by her court title Sakon
[She served during the reigns of Emperors Ichijo and Sanjo.]

Last night's vows of love
must now be broken off--
for I, like the god of Kazuraki
who began that bridge of stone,
fret over the coming of dawn.

This is Koogimi's most famous poem, which was included in the imperial anthology Shuishu wakashu (compiled between ca. 1005-1011), and later included in various privately compiled anthologies (including Zen jugoban uta-awase, Shuisho, Sanjurokunin sen, etc.). Some ninety of her poems survive; a total of twenty-one are included in imperially commissioned anthologies.

The poem in the Shuishu version is accompanied by a headnote--which of course may be purely fictional--that explains the context in which the poem was written. The headnote mentions that Koogimi had addressed the poem to Major Counsellor (Dainagon) Tomomitsu after he had stayed past dawn when they spent a night together. According to protocol of romance during the Heian period, a male visitor should always make a departure without fuss before daybreak, so as to avoid creating a commotion in the lady's household.

To discreetly shoo away a lover who had overstayed his welcome, Koogimi composed a verse alluding to the ancient legend of the god of Mount Kazuraki. (Kazuraki, or Katsuragi in modern pronunciation, is located in the mountain range between Nara and Osaka; a Shinto shrine dedicated to the god Hitokotonushi has been erected here.) This god was so ashamed of his ugly features that when trying to build a bridge of stone, he worked at night so as not to be seen. When dawn arrived he went into hiding, leaving the construction of the bridge unfinished. Akuru wabishiki, which means to "fret over the coming of dawn," also has the secondary meaning "to feel lonely at dawn."

Koogimi likes herself to this god who dreaded the dawn because she too is ashamed of her looks, or perhaps prefers not to let her lover see the imperfections of her beauty in the light of the morning before she has a chance to repair her makeup. The artist--no doubt respecting traditional iconography--responds to this level of poetic interpretation by showing the lady-in-waiting with her face concealed. Verbal and visual imagery are closely interrelated in this work in contrast to most poet portraits which, other than representing distinctions imposed by the gender and rank of the poet, do not respond to the meaning of the accompanying poem.

The rear view also enables the artist to show off Koogimi's incredibly long and glossy black hair and her voluminous, multi-layered court robe. The innermost robe completely covers her hands. She wears a long skirt or train painted with delicate small-scale patterns. Such a train would be appropriate for formal court ceremonies. The lady is seated; the sheer weight of their garments immobilized women at the Heian court.
Despite the importance of poetry in Heian social gatherings, romance and politics, it was not until the late 12th century that poets were immortalized in painting. The advent of secular portraiture made possible the pictorialization of idealized poets of the past. Handscrolls depicting poets in competition, divided into right and left groups on two scrolls, came into vogue in the 13th century when there was a strong interest in the literary and artistic traditions of the past.

The portrait shown here is a rare fragment from the so-called Fujifusa version of the illustrated scrolls of the Thirty-six Immortal Poets. The name derives from the traditional attribution of the calligraphy to Matenokoji Fujifusa (1295?-1380). The fluent, smooth style of the calligraphy as well as the forceful and rather personal and expressive style of the brushwork in the painting support a date in the Muromachi period.

Only 13 of the original 36 sections of the Fujifusa version are known to survive. For a fragment in the University of Michigan Museum of Art see Shimizu and Rosenfield, Masters of Japanese Calligraphy: 8th-19th Century (New York: Asia Society Galleries, Japan house Gallery, 1984), p. 110.