Meiji era Gyosho Bako (Peddler’s Chest)

Imagine that it’s the late 1800’s, your an itinerant salesman, and you see a burgeoning market in small farming villages and also in the post towns along one of the five main traveling routes (the go-kaido), like the famous Tōkaidō road, or the Nakasendō. Now imagine that you need to carry your goods with you. What are you going to use? Luckily there is an answer to this dilemma; you would strap a nice gyosho bako to your back and march out there to prosperity.

Now obviously, depending on what you are selling, these chests could be very cumbersome. So to keep weight down you would choose a light weight wood in their construction, maybe some kiri (paulownia) or some sugi (cedar) would be prudent. And you might want to keep it simple and coat it with just some wiped laquer; its inexpensive and easy to repair. You definitely would also choose to keep the iron work to a minimum, that is, unless you were a metalsmith and needed to show off your best work. In terms of design, you had an infinite number of variations. One door, two doors, hinged or maybe drop-fit, and with as many drawers as necessary. Tall and narrow or short and squat, it’s up to you. Only one question remains, what product are you going to choose to make your destiny manifest?

Pictured is an 1880 circa gyosho bako made from hinoki (cypress) and sugi (cedar). As for the hardware, handles are in the warabite (bracken hand) style and the jomae (lockplates), with double kikuza-tegakejo (floriate button) latches, are nice and utilitarian. Two aspects of this piece I find interesting are the kendan buta (drop fit) doors and the two thicker strips of wood used for adding strength to the back where the straps are attached, I hadn’t seen that before. I don’t know about you, but I think I would hate to strap one of these on my back. That being said, I still think they are great, and historically, important as well. Definitely shows how Japan went from a totally agrarian economy during feudal times, to a more industrious one as the Shogunate’s grasp of the economy began to break down.

Nihonmatsu Isho Kasane Dansu (Stacking Clothing Chest)

I saw this tansu on eBay and wanted to talk about it due to the fact that it depicts another regional style perfectly. Tansu production came late to Nihonmatsu (literally, two pine trees) and the area was primarily active in the mid-Meiji era. But what they lacked for in timing, they made up with uniqueness, as they were basically uninfluenced in design by their tansu producing neighbors, Yonezawa, Sendai, and Niigata.

Nihonmatsu tansu are some of the largest clothing chests made, with a typical size of over 43 inches wide and heights sometimes over 47 inches. Always a chest on chest design with the primary woods being Sugi (Japanese Cedar) for the carcass and Keyaki (Japanese Elm) for the drawer faces (this example listed the drawers as being Matsu (pine)). These chests typically had Warabite (bracken hand) type handles with intricate incised toshi-zagane (backplates), this depicted piece also has Sakura (cherry blossom) and Matsu protective plates (I don’t know the Japanese name for this type of handle protective plates, so if any of you out there do, please contact me).

Another distinctive characteristic of the Nihonmatsu tansu was the unique jomae (lockplate) with double kikuza-tegakejo (floriate button) latches as depicted here. One button was a sliding latch (karajo), and the other was a single action lock (omotejo) requiring a key, and could be used separately. This example shows a typical Nihonmatsu sliding lock cover of brass depicting the lucky Daikoku’s mallet (Daikoku is a god that is associated with wealth and agriculture) as well as some brass depictions of koi and a money bag at the center.

Tansu from this region had two types of finishes (nuri). Kijiro, which was a laborious process of multiple layers of clear lacquer (urushi) and polishings over a natural or stained-wood surface (depicted here), or Tame nuri which was an opaque lacquer which would hide the open grained wood and was equally laborious to apply.

One last unique attribute to Nihonmatsu tansu was the atypical use of the carcass wood for the interior drawer faces in the door compartment, as opposed to the usual consistent use of the same wood for all the drawer faces (hidden or not) found on all other types of tansu.

Tengu Mask (Meiji era)

What we have here is a Yamabushi Tengu mask used in the typically comedic Kyogen acts performed as the sort of intermissions between Noh acts. Kyogen rarely uses masks (or props, or stage sets for that matter) unless the character was an animal or a god. A Tengu is sometimes both; the literal translation is heavenly dogs and since they lived in the woods they were sometimes worshipped as Shinto mountain Kami (gods). Tengu were originally thought of as birds of prey and the human forms were depicted as having beaks, which has evolved over time into the huge protuberances we now see. Yamabushi are mountain hermits that were imbued with supernatural powers and martial arts skills. Primarily following Shugendou, a mixture of the esoteric Buddhist form of Shingon, and Shinto. So, mountain Kami and mountain warrior ascetics form a great mix, and can often be confused, which is how I first learned about Tengu, watching Kage no Gundan (look for Shadow Warriors), a ninja series from the eighties. Anyway, no matter how you came across them, folktales, theater or ninjas, Tengu are cool and so is this mask. 1880’s, silk hair, beautiful nose, museum quality, what more could you want?