Eisen | Itahana, 69 Stations of the Kisokaido
溪齋英泉 Keisai Eisen (1790–1848)
木曾街道六十九次之内 板鼻
Itahana, from the series of The Sixty-nine Stations of the Kisokaido
1835-38
木版画 | 横绘大判 | 24 × 35.5cm
Woodblock-print | Oban yoko -e | 24 × 35.5cm
初版；非常早期版次；颜色鲜艳；整体品相非常好；非常轻微的中间折痕；边缘经轻微修剪；带有日本藏家林忠正和法国藏家亨利·维维尔的收藏印章
Very rare first edition; fine impression and color; seals from the famed collectors Hayashi and Vever; very slight centrefold; slight trimming, including to the Kiwame/Take seal in the left margin.
Perhaps no single design better exemplifies both the magnificence and mysteries of the joint Eisen-Hiroshige series “The 69 Stations of the Kisokaido” than this, Itahana, the 15th station (or town) on the rugged inland road from Edo to Kyoto.
First, Eisen’s design: a knockout. Early morning travelers traipse beside a roaring stream beneath a row of pine trees on a frigid morning that is remarkably atmospheric. The glint of a red sunrise in the distance, the pale green of the riverbank, and the frosty snow atop the travelers’ hats tells us unmistakably that we’ve just missed a storm, perhaps a full-on blizzard, and it’s very cold, but the sky is clearing for a new day.
The travelers are outside Itahana and have just crossed a small footbridge to go on their way. This station is relatively early on the journey. We can practically hear the gurgle of the stream and the snowy crunches of their footfalls.
The scholar Sebastian Izzard calls this Eisen’s most successful snow scene and, indeed, it is among the most famous designs from this series, perhaps the most famous one. This example is a first edition, with a half-trimmed kiwame seal and the red ink seal of the publisher Iseya Rihei (Kinjudo). It was once in the collections of both Hayashi, a foremost Japanese dealer and collector, and Henri Vever, the great French Ukiyoe aficionado.
Now, for the mystery: there’s no signature. Nor is there ever a signature on this design. What happened? No one knows for sure.
The work is unmistakably Eisen’s. He’d been hired to produce the series after the rip-roaring success of Hiroshige’s 53 Stations of the Tokaido in 1832-33, after Hiroshige, with too much work, apparently demurred.
But Eisen was known for poor work habits – and a zest for life. Whether that had any effect here is unknown, but eventually his contributions fell away, and Hiroshige took over the series and completed it.
In this print, upon close inspection, the calligraphy appears to be by Hiroshige’s hand. One theory is that Eisen never finished the design – apparently not recognizing it as among his best -- leaving the final touches to his partner/rival. And while there were several Eisen designs in the series after this, it’s possible this print was published later, out of sequence.
This print was apparently jointly published by Hoeido and Kinjudo. From Edo Japan to Vever in France and down the line, this example was lovingly cared for nearly two centuries. It is in spectacular condition – the color strong, the bokashi gentle, the lines precise -- as fresh as the day the blocks were inked.
Interested in purchasing?
Please contact us.
溪齋英泉 Keisai Eisen (1790–1848)
木曾街道六十九次之内 板鼻
Itahana, from the series of The Sixty-nine Stations of the Kisokaido
1835-38
木版画 | 横绘大判 | 24 × 35.5cm
Woodblock-print | Oban yoko -e | 24 × 35.5cm
初版；非常早期版次；颜色鲜艳；整体品相非常好；非常轻微的中间折痕；边缘经轻微修剪；带有日本藏家林忠正和法国藏家亨利·维维尔的收藏印章
Very rare first edition; fine impression and color; seals from the famed collectors Hayashi and Vever; very slight centrefold; slight trimming, including to the Kiwame/Take seal in the left margin.
Perhaps no single design better exemplifies both the magnificence and mysteries of the joint Eisen-Hiroshige series “The 69 Stations of the Kisokaido” than this, Itahana, the 15th station (or town) on the rugged inland road from Edo to Kyoto.
First, Eisen’s design: a knockout. Early morning travelers traipse beside a roaring stream beneath a row of pine trees on a frigid morning that is remarkably atmospheric. The glint of a red sunrise in the distance, the pale green of the riverbank, and the frosty snow atop the travelers’ hats tells us unmistakably that we’ve just missed a storm, perhaps a full-on blizzard, and it’s very cold, but the sky is clearing for a new day.
The travelers are outside Itahana and have just crossed a small footbridge to go on their way. This station is relatively early on the journey. We can practically hear the gurgle of the stream and the snowy crunches of their footfalls.
The scholar Sebastian Izzard calls this Eisen’s most successful snow scene and, indeed, it is among the most famous designs from this series, perhaps the most famous one. This example is a first edition, with a half-trimmed kiwame seal and the red ink seal of the publisher Iseya Rihei (Kinjudo). It was once in the collections of both Hayashi, a foremost Japanese dealer and collector, and Henri Vever, the great French Ukiyoe aficionado.
Now, for the mystery: there’s no signature. Nor is there ever a signature on this design. What happened? No one knows for sure.
The work is unmistakably Eisen’s. He’d been hired to produce the series after the rip-roaring success of Hiroshige’s 53 Stations of the Tokaido in 1832-33, after Hiroshige, with too much work, apparently demurred.
But Eisen was known for poor work habits – and a zest for life. Whether that had any effect here is unknown, but eventually his contributions fell away, and Hiroshige took over the series and completed it.
In this print, upon close inspection, the calligraphy appears to be by Hiroshige’s hand. One theory is that Eisen never finished the design – apparently not recognizing it as among his best -- leaving the final touches to his partner/rival. And while there were several Eisen designs in the series after this, it’s possible this print was published later, out of sequence.
This print was apparently jointly published by Hoeido and Kinjudo. From Edo Japan to Vever in France and down the line, this example was lovingly cared for nearly two centuries. It is in spectacular condition – the color strong, the bokashi gentle, the lines precise -- as fresh as the day the blocks were inked.
Interested in purchasing?
Please contact us.
溪齋英泉 Keisai Eisen (1790–1848)
木曾街道六十九次之内 板鼻
Itahana, from the series of The Sixty-nine Stations of the Kisokaido
1835-38
木版画 | 横绘大判 | 24 × 35.5cm
Woodblock-print | Oban yoko -e | 24 × 35.5cm
初版；非常早期版次；颜色鲜艳；整体品相非常好；非常轻微的中间折痕；边缘经轻微修剪；带有日本藏家林忠正和法国藏家亨利·维维尔的收藏印章
Very rare first edition; fine impression and color; seals from the famed collectors Hayashi and Vever; very slight centrefold; slight trimming, including to the Kiwame/Take seal in the left margin.
Perhaps no single design better exemplifies both the magnificence and mysteries of the joint Eisen-Hiroshige series “The 69 Stations of the Kisokaido” than this, Itahana, the 15th station (or town) on the rugged inland road from Edo to Kyoto.
First, Eisen’s design: a knockout. Early morning travelers traipse beside a roaring stream beneath a row of pine trees on a frigid morning that is remarkably atmospheric. The glint of a red sunrise in the distance, the pale green of the riverbank, and the frosty snow atop the travelers’ hats tells us unmistakably that we’ve just missed a storm, perhaps a full-on blizzard, and it’s very cold, but the sky is clearing for a new day.
The travelers are outside Itahana and have just crossed a small footbridge to go on their way. This station is relatively early on the journey. We can practically hear the gurgle of the stream and the snowy crunches of their footfalls.
The scholar Sebastian Izzard calls this Eisen’s most successful snow scene and, indeed, it is among the most famous designs from this series, perhaps the most famous one. This example is a first edition, with a half-trimmed kiwame seal and the red ink seal of the publisher Iseya Rihei (Kinjudo). It was once in the collections of both Hayashi, a foremost Japanese dealer and collector, and Henri Vever, the great French Ukiyoe aficionado.
Now, for the mystery: there’s no signature. Nor is there ever a signature on this design. What happened? No one knows for sure.
The work is unmistakably Eisen’s. He’d been hired to produce the series after the rip-roaring success of Hiroshige’s 53 Stations of the Tokaido in 1832-33, after Hiroshige, with too much work, apparently demurred.
But Eisen was known for poor work habits – and a zest for life. Whether that had any effect here is unknown, but eventually his contributions fell away, and Hiroshige took over the series and completed it.
In this print, upon close inspection, the calligraphy appears to be by Hiroshige’s hand. One theory is that Eisen never finished the design – apparently not recognizing it as among his best -- leaving the final touches to his partner/rival. And while there were several Eisen designs in the series after this, it’s possible this print was published later, out of sequence.
This print was apparently jointly published by Hoeido and Kinjudo. From Edo Japan to Vever in France and down the line, this example was lovingly cared for nearly two centuries. It is in spectacular condition – the color strong, the bokashi gentle, the lines precise -- as fresh as the day the blocks were inked.
Interested in purchasing?
Please contact us.
Keisai Eisen (1790–1848)
Playright. Student painter. Face powder salesman. Bon Vivant. Brothel owner.
Born in 1790, Keisai Eisen lived 58 years, but in those decades inhabited many lives. Naturally, he is remembered most as an artist of the Floating World, with a specialty of portraying beautiful women, but with an undeniable talent at landscapes. He was born in Edo, the son of a noted calligrapher. After the death of his father he studied under Kikugawa Eizan. His initial works reflected the influence of his mentor, but he soon developed his own style after making a living in several other realms.
He also developed a talent for privately-printed, small-scale surimono prints. His most famous landscape series was the The Sixty-nine Stations of the Kisokaido, a project that he began but which was completed by Hiroshige, his junior, after his own work habits became erratic. His bijin-ga appeared more worldly and sensuous than those drawn by his predecessors, who had perhaps imbued them with too much stuffy elegance. Not Eisen’s. He died in 1848.