Lot Essay
The artist who signed himself Momokawa Shiko is traditionally assumed to have been the same person as Eishosai Choki. This was the view set forth in 1931 when this painting was published in Ukiyo-e taisei.
Choki's career, however, is shrouded in mystery. Almost nothing is known of his biography except that during the 1780s he worked in the studio of the book illustrator Toriyama Sekien (1712-88) and that sometime around 1808/9 he seems to have disappeared from the art scene. Stylistically his work is similar to that of Kitagawa Utamaro (1754-1806), a fellow student of Sekien, and today he is best known for the three groups of okubi-e portraits he designed for Tsutaya Juzaburo and Tsuruya Kinsuke in the mid-1790s under Utamaro's influence.
He first used the name Shiko, which he then renounced for Choki, the art name under which he produced his best-known prints. From about 1795 or 1796 he is said to have once again styled himself Shiko and then around 1801 reverted back to Choki. To confuse matters further his master Sekien also had another pupil (better known as a haiku poet) who used the name Shiko, and there was at one time debate over whether this is the same person as Choki, but the research of Narazaki Muneshige and others clearly indicate that they were different artists.
The issue is complicated by the existence of a small corpus of fine paintings, to which the work at hand belongs, bearing the signature Momokawa Shiko (or variations thereof) in a handwriting style that is difficult to reconcile with the signature style of any Choki or Shoki print. Other works revealing a similar painting and signature style include Courtesan Playing with a Cat in the Tokyo National Museum, [1] Courtesan with Two Kamuro, [2]. Both paintings are carefully executed in opaque pigments and may be dated approximately to the decade surrounding 1800.
This painting of a high-ranking courtesan bedecked in layers of flowing robes once belonged to the noted Taisho period collector Takeoka Toyota, whose collection was shown in 1923 at an ukiyo-e exhibition at the Kyoto Imperial Museum.
The inscription on the painting, inscribed in a highly stylized script exhibiting extreme variations of stroke width, is by the artist himself--that is, based on a comparison of the handwriting style of the signature. The original source of the quotation is a sermon by the early Edo priest Takuan (1573-1645) who, among his many achievements as a popularizer of Zen, founded the Tokaiji temple in the Shinagawa district of Edo (an area also known for its bordellos). It is interesting to note that the same quotation (with slight variations) is found on a number of other bijin paintings by ukiyo-e artists, including Hokusai, Choshun, Hokuba, Keisai, Koryusai, Gekkosai, among others. Clearly, aficionados of ukiyo-e found wisdom (or solace?) in its paradoxical message. The quotation reads:
hotoke wa ho o uru
soshi wa hotoke o uru
masse no so wa soshi o uru
nanji wa go shaku no karada o utte
issai shujo no bonno o hodokosu
yanagi wa midori hana wa kurenai
shiki soku e ku
ku soku ze shiki
ike no tsura ni, yo yo kayou tsuki
naredo kokoro mo nurezu
mizu ni ato nashi
Buddha tried to sell the religious law,
The Patriarchs tried to sell the Buddha,
Priests of the Final Age of the Law
try to sell the Patriarchs.
You try to sell your five-foot body
to allay the passions of mankind.
Willows are green, flowers crimson.
Form is none other than emptiness,
Emptiness is none other than form.
Though the moon, night after night,
courses across the face of the pond,
its essence remains undampened
nor does it leave traces in the water.[3]
In typical Zen fashion the message is ambiguous. Is the priest criticizing the courtesan or praising her? Just as it is hard to say whether he is advocating Buddhism as an answer to alleviating the suffering of mankind, which according to the tenets of Buddhism is said to arise from worldly passions.
The common Zen expression "willows are green, flowers crimson" (used to represent the diversity of natural phenomena) cited by Takuan was later appropriated by ukiyo-e writers and poets to symbolize the world of the pleasure quarter. The metaphysical statement here equating form and emptiness is borrowed directly from the Heart Sutra (Hannya shingyo), which is generally considered the quintessential Zen text. In this context, however, the message can be interpreted in a more worldly fashion. The character for "form" (shiki) may also be read as iro, which has the various connotations of "color" or "lust."
In summary, the quotation is meant to remind the reader of the transience of all worldly phenomena, including the pleasures of the flesh. Ironically, this wisdom corresponds quite well with the underlying values of the floating world.
[1] Signed "Momokawa Shiko ga," and sealed with a square "Momokawa" seal and square "Shiko" seal, which is similar but not the same seal impressed on the work here. See comments by Narazaki Muneshige in "Utamaro" Nikuhitsu ukiyo-e (Tokyo: Shueisha, 1981) Vol 6, no. 21.
[2] Signed "Momokawa Shiko hitsu" and sealed "Shiko". Published in Utamaro to sono shuhen (Tokyo: Ota Memorial Museum, 1992) no. 7.
[3] The translation and commentary on this inscription was provided by John T. Carpenter, who discusses the quotation in greater detail in a forthcoming article dealing with inscribed paintings by Hokusai.
Choki's career, however, is shrouded in mystery. Almost nothing is known of his biography except that during the 1780s he worked in the studio of the book illustrator Toriyama Sekien (1712-88) and that sometime around 1808/9 he seems to have disappeared from the art scene. Stylistically his work is similar to that of Kitagawa Utamaro (1754-1806), a fellow student of Sekien, and today he is best known for the three groups of okubi-e portraits he designed for Tsutaya Juzaburo and Tsuruya Kinsuke in the mid-1790s under Utamaro's influence.
He first used the name Shiko, which he then renounced for Choki, the art name under which he produced his best-known prints. From about 1795 or 1796 he is said to have once again styled himself Shiko and then around 1801 reverted back to Choki. To confuse matters further his master Sekien also had another pupil (better known as a haiku poet) who used the name Shiko, and there was at one time debate over whether this is the same person as Choki, but the research of Narazaki Muneshige and others clearly indicate that they were different artists.
The issue is complicated by the existence of a small corpus of fine paintings, to which the work at hand belongs, bearing the signature Momokawa Shiko (or variations thereof) in a handwriting style that is difficult to reconcile with the signature style of any Choki or Shoki print. Other works revealing a similar painting and signature style include Courtesan Playing with a Cat in the Tokyo National Museum, [1] Courtesan with Two Kamuro, [2]. Both paintings are carefully executed in opaque pigments and may be dated approximately to the decade surrounding 1800.
This painting of a high-ranking courtesan bedecked in layers of flowing robes once belonged to the noted Taisho period collector Takeoka Toyota, whose collection was shown in 1923 at an ukiyo-e exhibition at the Kyoto Imperial Museum.
The inscription on the painting, inscribed in a highly stylized script exhibiting extreme variations of stroke width, is by the artist himself--that is, based on a comparison of the handwriting style of the signature. The original source of the quotation is a sermon by the early Edo priest Takuan (1573-1645) who, among his many achievements as a popularizer of Zen, founded the Tokaiji temple in the Shinagawa district of Edo (an area also known for its bordellos). It is interesting to note that the same quotation (with slight variations) is found on a number of other bijin paintings by ukiyo-e artists, including Hokusai, Choshun, Hokuba, Keisai, Koryusai, Gekkosai, among others. Clearly, aficionados of ukiyo-e found wisdom (or solace?) in its paradoxical message. The quotation reads:
hotoke wa ho o uru
soshi wa hotoke o uru
masse no so wa soshi o uru
nanji wa go shaku no karada o utte
issai shujo no bonno o hodokosu
yanagi wa midori hana wa kurenai
shiki soku e ku
ku soku ze shiki
ike no tsura ni, yo yo kayou tsuki
naredo kokoro mo nurezu
mizu ni ato nashi
Buddha tried to sell the religious law,
The Patriarchs tried to sell the Buddha,
Priests of the Final Age of the Law
try to sell the Patriarchs.
You try to sell your five-foot body
to allay the passions of mankind.
Willows are green, flowers crimson.
Form is none other than emptiness,
Emptiness is none other than form.
Though the moon, night after night,
courses across the face of the pond,
its essence remains undampened
nor does it leave traces in the water.[3]
In typical Zen fashion the message is ambiguous. Is the priest criticizing the courtesan or praising her? Just as it is hard to say whether he is advocating Buddhism as an answer to alleviating the suffering of mankind, which according to the tenets of Buddhism is said to arise from worldly passions.
The common Zen expression "willows are green, flowers crimson" (used to represent the diversity of natural phenomena) cited by Takuan was later appropriated by ukiyo-e writers and poets to symbolize the world of the pleasure quarter. The metaphysical statement here equating form and emptiness is borrowed directly from the Heart Sutra (Hannya shingyo), which is generally considered the quintessential Zen text. In this context, however, the message can be interpreted in a more worldly fashion. The character for "form" (shiki) may also be read as iro, which has the various connotations of "color" or "lust."
In summary, the quotation is meant to remind the reader of the transience of all worldly phenomena, including the pleasures of the flesh. Ironically, this wisdom corresponds quite well with the underlying values of the floating world.
[1] Signed "Momokawa Shiko ga," and sealed with a square "Momokawa" seal and square "Shiko" seal, which is similar but not the same seal impressed on the work here. See comments by Narazaki Muneshige in "Utamaro" Nikuhitsu ukiyo-e (Tokyo: Shueisha, 1981) Vol 6, no. 21.
[2] Signed "Momokawa Shiko hitsu" and sealed "Shiko". Published in Utamaro to sono shuhen (Tokyo: Ota Memorial Museum, 1992) no. 7.
[3] The translation and commentary on this inscription was provided by John T. Carpenter, who discusses the quotation in greater detail in a forthcoming article dealing with inscribed paintings by Hokusai.