Signed and inscribed: I once painted Three Fish and inscribed it: painting is what I did in the time remaining after work, poetry in the time remaining after sleep, and calligraphy in the time remaining after carving. This is what I call the three remaining. (in Chinese, "fish" and "remaining" are pronounced the same)
The painting depicts three fishes below a calligraphic poem. The poem goes: "I once painted Three Fish and inscribed it: painting is what I did in the time remaining after work, poetry in the time remaining after sleep, and calligraphy in the time remaining after carving. This is what I call the three remaining." (in Chinese, "fish" and "remaining" are pronounced the same)
The many brave heroes standing, side by side, but this one has a strategy, which will never offend heavens will, by what is great peace to be measured? Just one kind heart will last 300 years. Signed: Old Man Taiitsu
This calligraphy is executed in ink on paper. There are a total of three red seals present in the piece, one in the upper right hand corner, and two towards the left center of the piece. The calligraphy is very strong and forceful, with broad, well defined strokes. The work is mounted on golden silk.
Murase Taiitsu was trained primarily as a Confucius scholar but excelled at both calligraphy and painting. He produced paintings of figures and landscapes accompanied by poems, as well as works of pure calligraphy such as the one seen here. This example is a tribute to a military figure whose leadership exemplified Ren (benevolence), the highest Confucian virtue.
Taiitsu was a member of a group of Japanese painters who followed the styles and ideas of the Chinese Southern School of literati (non-professional artist-scholar) painting that flourished during the Ming period (1368–1644). Taiitsu, considered by many a notable eccentric, brought his singular, personal touch to the tradition. A distinctive feature of his brushstroke is its dancing quality, which conveys an exuberance and vigor lacking in the work of his fellow Japanese literati painters, who adhered more closely to Chinese styles.
Two seals of the artist at lower left, following signature:
(a) Rai Jô no in (seal of Rai Jô)
(b) Rai shi shisei (successful scion of the Rai family)
One seal at upper right: undeciphered.
The wooden box for this painting is important because it bears an authentication by San'yô son. On the outside, an inscription reads, "Callligraphy by the late elderly San'yô. A poem in seven-character lines, [his] true brushwork." The inscription continues on the Inside of box lid: "Spring day of the mizunoe horse year (1882). Examined and certified by Rai Fuku." [Fuku is another name for Rai Shihô (1823-1889).]
This is a hanging scroll. It is mounted on olive green fabric and includes a poem in Chinese calligraphic text about nature. Has three red seals: two in the lower left side, one in the upper right corner.
This is the poem:
The sounds of rustling leaves and the voices of talented men;
by the window of the mountain villa, a man plays go [Chinese chess] with another on a fine autumn day.
The sun in the forest begins to set and the match breaks up;
the shadow of a tree reaches from the bamboo blind to the catalpa chess-board.
Bust portrait of Paris of Troy. He looks off to the upper left. He is shown with a helmet that is toped with a sphynx-like figure and long feathers.
This is a portrait of Paris the young prince of Troy and son of King Priam. As recounted in Homer's epic poem "Illiad," Paris meets Helen, the wife of King Menelaus of Sparta, and kidnaps her. This sparks the Trojan war which brings distruction to the city, in the end.
The sword is long and slightly curved; the metal smith's name is engraved on the metal handle.
Long swords (tachi) were the most important belongings for samurai, almost as equal to their lives; as many tragic stories attest, samurai could commit suicide when his sword was taken, stolen, or lost.
Colorful forms and words arranged on a white background. Block letters display words in a mixed-up format, some upside down, some on their sides. On left side there is a section with smaller writing in yellowish ink.
Corita Kent, also known as Sister Mary Corita, gained international fame for her vibrant serigraphs during the 1960s and 1970s. A Sister of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, she ran the Art Department at Immaculate Heart College until 1968 when she left the Order and moved to Boston. Corita's art reflects her spirituality, her commitment to social justice, her hope for peace, and her delight in the world that takes place all around us.
To the Lovings, new hope i love you much (most beautiful darling) more than anyone on earth and i like you better than everything in the sky--sunlight and singing welcome your coming although winter may be everywhere with such a silence and such a darkness no one can quite begin to guess (except my life) the true time of the year-- and if what calls itself a world should have the luck to hear singing (or glimpse such sunlight as will leap higher than high through gayer than gayest someone's heart at your each nearness) everyone certainly would (my most beautiful darling) believe in nothing but love. cummings
Two geisha (itinerant musicians) are shown strolling in the countryside, with the roof of Benten Shintô shrine in the distance. The backdrop is the rising sun—the give-away that this is a New Year’s print—seen over distant mountains and a calm bay. One woman stoops to empty the ashes from her pipe, while the other draws her kimono closely about her. A poem lies just above the rising sun in the top left register of the morning sky.
In the final decade of the eighteenth century, there was a severe wave of government censorship against any publications—image or text—that could be construed as political satire or as detrimental to public morals. At first this crackdown had a devastating impact on print publishers and artists, who found themselves in manacles if they attempted to continue their staple products of erotica and pin-up prints of courtesans and actors. They soon rebounded, however, with new formats and new themes. One outlet for artistic genius was the surimono, the privately commissioned print that could avoid the censor’s eye. Usually issued as New Year’s greetings by members of a poetry club or clique, surimono are small in scale and richly decorated with the highest quality pigments, including metallic shades of silver, gold, and copper.
Katsushika Hokusai, who is best known in the West for his landscape prints of Mount Fuji, evokes here a quietly nostalgic scene of two geisha (itinerant musicians) strolling in the countryside, with the roof of a Shintô shrine in the distance. The backdrop is the rising sun—the give-away that this is a New Year’s print—seen over distant mountains and a calm bay. The women seem unimpressed by nature’s display: one stoops to empty the ashes from her pipe, while the other draws her kimono closely about her, against the chill of the dawn. A poem, possibly by Akashi tei urabito, lies above the rising sun in the top left register.
The print depicts a figure in black walking in the snow with an umbrella. The snow covers the road, the well and the trees. Inscriptions of two poems appear on the upper right-hand corner, and the artist's signature can be found on the bottom edge of the print.
A long wooden box divided into two compartments, one small and one large. The small compartment contains an intricately worked gold thimble inscribed with a poem. The long compartment contains a silver thimble in which horse hairs have been threaded. The tuft of horse hair runs the length of the long compartment.
Scripts of love and romance. The failure of language to communicate clearly. Fairy tale fantasies of children.