Vegder's Blog

December 7, 2015

Hiroshige (広重) fan prints or uchiwa (団扇): It’s been done better before, but… Part One

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow (Muzeum Sztuki i Techniki Japońskiej Manggha, Kraków) – the moon seen through cherry blossoms from 1861. That would make this fan print a design by Hiroshige II. We know this because Hiroshige I died in 1858. However, the signatures of the two are basically indistinguishable. Both men worked with the publisher Ibaya Senzaburō and this fan could easily be mistakenly attributed to either artist – if it weren’t for the date seal in the lower right.

MFA_Rabbits_moonlight_fan_7c – Now this one is definitely by Hiroshige I. We know this because it dates from 1847-52. I posted it here for a couple of reasons: one is the cuteness-factor and the other is that it involves moon-viewing as does the one at the top of this page. There will plenty of other examples of this theme by Hiroshige which I hope to show you. They differ enormously from these essentially streamlined minimalist images, but will still show Hiroshige’s genius for using his full range of skills.

Why I even took on the theme of Hiroshige fan prints in the first place: because of the incredible collection I ran across at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology in Krakow

About a year and a half ago, while I was researching some obscure topic, I am sure, I noticed a link to the collection of prints in Krakow, Poland. I clicked on it and was amazed. I spent a little bit of time looking at some of the prints they had, but only dipped my big toe in that pond. I never really threw myself in to see just how comprehensive it might be. Then recently, for reasons I can’t explain or remember – I am getting old – I found myself there again looking at their web site, page by page, item by item, all 5,000+ of them. Now, I want to make this absolutely clear – my knowledge of the Polish language is comparable to my knowledge of Sanskrit and that African click language, Xhosa. That is to say, I can’t read or understand a word of it. (Thank goodness for Google translations – even though they can be goofy more often than not depending on the language being translated.)

The Manggha [my shortened reference for this institution] has thousands of quality Japanese woodblock prints. Some one-of-a-kind examples to be found nowhere else on this planet. My questions are many: 1) How did they get so many great examples?; 2) Who put these collections together?; and 3) How in the hell did these things survive the trials and tribulations and destruction inflicted on Poland by its two strongest neighbors through much of the early 20th century? It is a bit of a miracle, if you ask me. And now everyone with a computer and access to the Internet can go there and see for themselves.

Below is a photograph of that museum, just so you will have a better idea of why I am so impressed.


The collection at the Manggha may be more modest than those of rival institutions in the West, but still they must be considered in the top tier. Their collection must be placed up their in that select grouping which includes the collections of the British Museum, the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, the Victoria and Albert, the Museo d’Arte Orientale in Genoa, et al. That is what sparked my interest and especially their large collection of fine, high-quality Hiroshige fan prints.

In the wee hours of October 27, 2016 I received an e-mail from a curator for this collection in Krakow. It reads in part:

The great donation of over 5000 woodblock prints (and few thousands other objects of Japanese art and handicrafts ) were donated in 1920 by FELIKS JASIENSKI, whose nick name was “Manggha”. His pen name was inspired by the “Hokusai Manga”. The Museum Manggha, primary “The Centre of Japanese Art and Technology was created as a branch of THE NATIONAL MUSEUM IN KRAKOW. The institution founded in 1879, with curatorial and conservation custody of over 13 000 objects of Asian art.

I am grateful to this person for this information because it fills in some of the things we did know and makes the picture of this collection that much clearer. Thank you!

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow – Natsu (Summer): Irises by the Yatsuhashi bridge; Arihara no Narihira

There are four prints of this series, Flowers of the Four Seasons Famous in History. Each pairs a famous poet with the flowers representative of the its time of the year. There are two of these fan prints in Krakow and one in Boston. We are looking for the last one to add to this post. If we find it you will get to see all of them here. [See our new posting shown below the next two fan images. It shows us what the fourth print in this series looks like. Now the set is complete.]

MFA_Winter_Sugawara_Flowers_Four_Seasons_fan_Hiroshige_7b – Fuyu (Winter): The Flying Plum Tree of Dazaifu in Tsukushi; Sugawara Michizane from the series Flowers of the Four Seasons Famous in History (Kodai meiyō shiki no hana)

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow – Haru (Spring): Cherry Tree in the Village of Fukakusa; Ono no Komachi

“…Ono no Komachi, a 9th century poetess, famous for her beauty, talent, and misfortunes.” She is dress in layered robes. The outer one has the cherry-blossom pattern of a maid of honor. This particular cherry tree is referred to as Sumizome in Japanese. This is translated as being ‘ink-tinted’ because sumi is the word for ink. This choice may have a second layer of meaning because it takes inks, including sumi, to create this fan print.

On October 11, 2018 I received an email from someone who told me that the fourth print in this series is in the collection of the Tikotin Museum of Art in Haifa, Israel. After continuing our correspondence I was finally able to see a reasonably good image of this print on my computer monitor. Unfortunately, I was unable to get a clean and large image, so I finally used a screen capture to get as good a representation as I could. Sadly it includes the darkened box on the left with the “>” sign still visible. Of course, that is not a part of the print, but… Sorry! But mainly, I want to thank the person who brought this to my, and now your, attention. We are all richer for your contribution. You have done a service to us all.

More flowers

VAM_chrysanthemums_before_painting_of_moon_Hiroshige_fan   ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London

The files at the V & A say of this print: “…elegantly composed uchiwa-e,or rigid fan print, design by Hiroshige has survived in good condition despite having been salvaged, as the ribmarks on its surface indicate, from a made-up fan. It consists of a close-up view of a flower arrangement in front of a painting mounted as a hanging scroll such as might be found in the ‘tokonoma’ or display alcove of a Japanese room. In this case the melancholy of autumn is suggested by a large spray of chrysanthemums set off by a painting of the moon. The artist’s signature appears to be appended to the painting rather than the print as a whole. This was a common contrivance in compositions of this kind.”

Or, how about this Hiroshige beauty at the Rhode Island School of Design. I am a sucker for those black backgrounds. The title is ‘The Everlasting Chrysanthemum’ (Toshigiku). A fall flower when the weather might still get warm and a fan would be needed.

RISD_Hiroshige_fan_chrysanthemums_7   Rhode Island School of Design – gift of Mrs. John D. Rockerfeller, Jr.

Or this one, also a Hiroshige fan print, at the Met from the bequest of Mrs. H.O. Havemeyer in 1929.


This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow


MIA_Hiroshige_lilies_fan_7b   Minneapolis Institute of Arts

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow

The women in this print are clearly enjoying the display of wisteria which blooms early enough in the year so that warm clothing might still be required. The most famous site in Edo for such viewing is the Kameido shrine in Edo, modern day Tokyo. Below is a photo taken in 2010 and posted at commons.wikimedia by Okayu (御粥).


VAM_Kameido_Tenjin_Hiroshige_fan_7   ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London

The curatorial files at the Victoria and Albert say:

…famous for its purple-flowering wisteria and its taikobashi, or drum bridge. The view here is of
wisteria trellises along the east shore of the pond in the centre of the shrine grounds. The signs on
the trellis supports read (from right to left) osenjicha / senkyaku banrai, meaning ‘tea / that many
clients should come’, and oyasumidokoro / daikichi rishi, meaning ‘resting place / that business
should flourish’

Why I almost never write about Hiroshige or Hokusai prints – or, have rarely posted any of their images

In an age filled with refugee crises, global warming, terrorism, corporate greed and ineptitude… and Donald Trump, I know that you have not been sitting around wondering why I have never talked about Hiroshige or Hokusai. But I will tell you why anyway. First off, I want to make something perfectly clear: when it comes to Hiroshige prints at their best there is almost nothing more beautiful in my opinion. The man was a genius. My problem is with his legion of public relations men, i.e., devotees, who have followed him. Hiroshige is and has been TOO popular. How’s that? you say. Too popular. Yes! too popular. People fall all over themselves to collect second, third and fourth rate Hiroshiges often at very high prices. Not to mention the number of knock-off prints that aren’t even by him. Why? Because he is in. Because he is an accepted icon. Because people can really be sheep sometimes.

Of course, Hiroshige is great. Didn’t I say so above? Yes, but unfortunately he is great at the expense of a load of other artists who deserve our attention. Years ago I read an article about the 10% rule on impressionist and post-impressionist paintings. It meant that for approximately 10% of what you might pay for a third or fourth-rate painting by a first tier impressionist like Monet, Renoir or Degas you could buy an absolutely stunning and accomplished oil painting by a lesser known, less accepted contemporary of theirs. In the museum in Indianapolis they have a lot of wonderful paintings by men like Henri-Edmond Cross, Maximilien Luce, George Lemmen, Théo van Rysselberghe and Lucien Pissaro – Camille’s son. Ever hear of them? Probably not. These artists have been swallowed up by history and sponge publicity devoted to their more famous peers. The same problem is true of many of the Japanese artists standing in the shadows of Hiroshige and Hokusai. Those two men crowd out the rest of the field – mostly.

Now, as to Hokusai: I ADORE HOKUSAI! They don’t get any better, intellectually, aesthetically, viscerally. I’ll stand by that. So, if I ‘luv’ him so much, why haven’t I written more about him? Because others who know their stuff a hell of a lot better than I do have. Why add my feeble squeaks to their thunderous roar? And one more thing: in my estimation Hokusai is so great that I could have devoted each and every last post on this web log to exploring his work – all 51 one of them, That is how many posts I have worked on so far. They could all just as easily have been devoted to the genius that was Hokusai. Not only a genius, but a genius’s genius. Now you know.

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow

Fans of the Yoshiwara – Actually, I should have called this ‘Hiroshige fans of the Yoshiwara’, but I thought the play on words would be a little more catchy by leaving his name out.

If someone wanted to take the time to make a count of the percentage of Japanese woodblock prints from the early to mid-nineteenth century that dealt directly with the Yoshiwara the number would be huge. If the prints of beautiful courtesans who plied their trade there were included in that number it would be even larger. So it makes sense considering the popularity of that remarkable red-light district that Hiroshige would have added his artistic voice to the mix.

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow

Hiroshige II created his own take on the main drag during cherry blossom time.

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow

It’s been done better before, but… I mentioned this in the title of this post and here is why: There is a wonderful little book by Rupert Faulkner of Hiroshige fan prints from the collection of the Victoria and Albert Museum. You might want to consider purchasing a copy of it if this subject interests you. The crispness of the colors of the reproductions is wonderful and the information in the book is invaluable. Here is what it looks like:


Now back to the topic – kind of –

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow – Takinogawa at Ōji (王子滝の川) from the 1840s

A few years earlier Hiroshige produced a beautiful print of a nearby location in which a waterfall, taki (滝) is not a focal point as in fan print above. The sacred nature of this site is made clear by the red torii at the mouth of the cave on the right.


A Hokkei print from 1833 gives us another perspective on the site. Notice the bridge leading over to the torii. It is from that angle that we see the view in this gorgeous print in the collection at Harvard.

Harvard_Hokkei_Takinogawa_Oji_7b   Havard Art Museums

So, where is the waterfall? I mean, really. Where is it? Well, I’ll show you. But first you need to know that this is a loaded question. Why? Because there are at least seven waterfalls in this region. For example, a tall, thundering one shows up in one of the prints from the series 100 Famous Views of Edo which appeared during the last three years of Hiroshige’s life. Look over at the right side of the print below. Doesn’t look a thing like the waterfall in the fan print by Hiroshige in Krakow. Clearly it is a different waterfall than the one shown in the Krakow fan print. Remember, ‘Takinogawa’ means ‘ the river of waterfalls’.

After I did some more digging I found out that this next waterfall isn’t even on the Takinogawa running through Ōji. According to Mikhail Uspensky it is the Shakujiigawa, which also runs through the Ōji region of Edo. How confusing.

Brooklyn_Takinogawa_Oji_Hiroshige_7b   Brooklyn Museum of Art

I don’t know about you, but I love doing research! Mentally, it always feels like a voyage of exploration into uncharted territory – I am the one without the charts – and I never know what is coming. Why am I telling you this? Because of the wonderful and dramatic things I am finding out about the charming Hiroshige fan print shown below. I chose it for its charms and not its mysteries, but, like so many other works of art, it is its mysteries which underlie everything there is to tell about it. There is always more to the story than what first meets the eye.

The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston refer to it as “Boat Landing on a Canal” (堀端船宿). A generic title. The information provided by the National Diet Library – they own a copy of this print, too – is somewhat more specific, descriptive – remember there is no printed title for this scene and it can only be identified by the image presented before us. Anyway, the NDL referes to it as the Ageba-cho (揚場丁) or loading site in Ushigome (牛込), a location along the moat for the Imperial Palace grounds.


Enlarged detail from the print above showing two geishas, one client with a folding fan – ironic, isn’t it? a man holding an ōgi (扇) on a print of an uchiwa (団扇) or flat fan print – and what appear to be two servants, about to board a boat at Ageba-cho  for a pleasure cruise.

But it wasn’t the National Diet Library information that led me to a discovery of this specific location. It was a little digging which I did by plugging in the kanji into Google’s Japanese search engine. That took me to a web site – all in Japanese – posted by the Matsumoto Saké distributors, who noted that one of the warehouses on the right show one of its storage/disbursement locations. The three lanterns up above and the signage below advertise the Myōga-ya (茗荷屋) or ginger beer establishment.

MFA_Hiroshige_fan_Uchigome_Ageba_cho_7_detail2   Another detail from the Hiroshige print in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

So, what do we know about the area of Ushigome? ‘Ushi’ (牛) means ‘cattle’. It lay to the northwest of the Imperial Palace grounds. While it wasn’t one of the most spectacular areas of Edo it did provide land for housing many servants of the imperial household. Therefore, it lots were said to have been somewhat larger than those in some of the more crowded parts of the city. Paul Waley in his Tokyo: City of Stories tells us, quoting from a Meiji period guide, that: “Ushigome was from ancient times pastureland, a place where cattle grazed.” Waley goes on to note: “It is one of several place names in Tokyo with pastoral origins. Others like Magome and Komagome derive not from cattle but from the horses that grazed the land there. The common denominators of each of these names, kome (or gome), refers to a gathering of animals in a herd. Cattle have not been grazing in Ushigome for many a century. There were probably few of them left when the head of the Ogo family moved here from his home on the skirt of Mount Akagi, northwest of the little settlement called Edo at the mouth of the Sumida River. He settled in Ushigome, taking the name of the district as his own and building a homestead where the temple of Kōshōji now stands in Fukuromachi, just south of Kagurazaka. He, or a descendant, established a shrine nearby, Akagi Jinja, which remains one of the larger of the many shrines in the area.”

One of the great things about lyrical scenes presented to us by artists like Hiroshige is that we get a snapshot of what a particular location looked like before modernization, over population, and all of the disasters that have hit – both natural and man made. In late September 1897 a typhoon hit Tokyo and it was reported that 156 houses in Ushigome collapsed. On September 1, 1923 Honshu suffered from a 9.0 seismic event known as the Great Kanto Earthquake. The damage was widespread and effected many large cities. Tokyo not only dealt with the initial destruction, but it was even more devastated by the fire which followed. The main water lines were destroyed by the upheaval and because of that the fire department could not pump water and was fighting a losing battle. Even the Imperial Palace grounds suffered greatly. However, for whatever reason, Ushigome came out better than most of the rest of the city. According to official records only 150 individuals died in Ushigome, only 53 were missing, only 115 were seriously injured, 355 were slightly injured, and 7,366 homes were made uninhabitable. By contrast, 48,393 died in the Honjo district where 6,105  were missing, In the Asakusa district 254,692 left homeless. So, as you can see Ushigome came through the trauma basically unscathed. Below is a photo of Ushigome Ward Office as seen after the quake. It was posted at commons.wikimedia.


But then there was always World War II and the carpet bombing of Tokyo in March 1945. The bombing lasted over two days, March 9 and 10. The damage was horrific. What was left was finished off in another major raid in late May. Ushigome was not spared that time. It was razed just like the rest of the city. The death toll was staggering. Below is an image of the firebombing raid on Tokyo on May 26, 1945 from the Library of Congress. I found it at commons.wikimedia.


My point: We should rejoice in the beautiful record left us by Hiroshige, a vision which can only be recaptured by looking at his prints because they are only shadows of what once was.

Just a few aizuri-e fans – by three great, different artists: Hiroshige I, Hiroshige II and Hokusai

VAM_Hiroshige_II_Oyama_Roben_waterfall_fan_aizurie  ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London – Hiroshige I’s Great Waterfall at Ōyama in Sagami Province

The curatorial files at the V & A say of this Hiroshige II print that it “…is one of a series of ‘aizuri’ or monochrome blue depictions of famous places in Sagami Province (Kanagawa Prefecture). This particular view shows the Great Waterfall (also known as the Roben Waterfall) at Oyama, a mountain in western Kanagawa Prefecture. Its 1250-metre summit is occupied by the Afuri Shrine, dedicated to the god of rain. Oyama was an important religious centre. Large numbers of pilgrims visited it during the summer months. The small figure on the left is following the pilgrims’ ritual. They washed in the waterfall to cleanse body and spirit before offering prayers at the shrine.”

This is not where I was going, but… I have to tell you, that no post is ever planned out or goes the way I think it will when I start doing it. My love of the imagery is probably clear to you and I want you to love it the way I do. But, even if you don’t, I love sharing the journey. Why am I telling you this? Because after I posted the image of the falls at Ōyama above I went on a hunt for other images. Not fan, not Hiroshiges necessarily, not even Japanese woodblock prints. But I did find one I love and felt it had to be posted here because, even though it is by Hokusai and isn’t a fan, it does give us another perspective on this famous site. Many of you will already know this print. Others will not. Either way, it is such a spectacular treat to view and muse on, that there was no way that I could leave it out. Hiroshige in the fan print above came at it one way, Hokusai another. See below:

MIA_Hokusai_Roben_Falls_Oyama_7b   Minneapolis Institute of Art –  Rōben Falls, Ōyama in Sagami Province, ca. 1832

The curatorial files in Minneapolis, and fortunately posted online, give the background:

The Buddhist monk Rōben (689-773) was a religious adviser to Emperor Shōmu. His efforts to establish Tōdai Temple
led to his appointment as sōjō (high priest). He was the first of many remarkable priests to hold that exalted position
in the country’s largest and most important Buddhist temple. Rōben is also credited with the founding, in 755, of
Ukōsan Daisanji, popularly known as Ōyama Temple, in Sagami Province (present-day Kanagawa Prefecture).
Ukō means “rainfall” and suggests the mountain’s power to bring rain. Like many Buddhist temples, Ōyama Temple
was constructed on an ancient Shinto site. The shrine associated with the complex was called Afuri Shrine.
A waterfall that issues from the mountain came to be called Rōben Falls, as noted here in the title cartouche.

This image shows pilgrims performing ritual purification (mizugori) in Rōben Falls before ascending the mountain
to visit Ōyama Temple edifices. Many of them carry long wooden sword-like objects, a custom recalling the warrior
Minamoto Yoritomo (1147-99), who is said to have had a wooden sword purified at the temple in hopes that this would
ensure victory in battle. The pilgrims’ “swords,” which are inscribed with prayers, would have been offered at the temple
following the ritual ablutions illustrated here.

Just to help stick the point, I have decided to add the right-hand panel of a triptych by Kuniyoshi – another favorite of mine – from the collection in the British Museum. It dates from ca. 1847-52.

BM_Kuniyoshi_Roben_Oyama_right_panel_7b   British Museum

But then again there is this sweet and decent Hiroshige of the same scene dating from the early 1840s.

This print is the property of MUZEUM NARODOWE W KRAKOWIE deposited at the Manggha Museum of Japanese Art and Technology, Krakow

And, for contrast here is an 1864 aizuri-e by Hiroshige II, Tōnosawa (塔の沢) from the series of Seven Hot Springs of Hakone.


I can’t say for sure and won’t swear to the fact that this next passage from a book from 1897 is describing the scene seen above but it might be.

Arrived at Yumoto, I was met by a swarm of coolies who bore down upon me with their rickishas, but, instead of pushing on the same
day to Miyanoshita (as is generally done), I broke the journey at a little place about half-a-mile beyond Yumoto, called Tonosawa, and
spent the  night at an inn — Tamano-yu — which, although the  European conveniences in it were few, was nevertheless delightful.
Tonosawa lies near the mouth of a gorge, and is so shut in by hills that the sun does not shine upon it for more than two or three hours
a day. In all my subsequent rambles through the country, I never came upon so pleasant a yadoya as the Tamano-yu. Speaking of it
later on in the house of a missionary, two hundred miles away, I  found my host equally enthusiastic about it, and there was another
reason for regarding it with special attachment in his case, as it was there that he spent his honeymoon.

So what was the appeal? Just look.

Pinterest_Paul_McAlpine_Tonosawa_7   Posted at Pinterest by Paul McAlpine

Flickr_Inside_tea_house_Tonosawa_Leiden_7b   Posted at Flickr, from U. of Leiden

Wanna see something really cool, really neat, really nifty? Huh… huh… Do ya?

Below are two different views of Tonosawa. One is an aizuri-e and the other a nishiki-e fan print. Both are at the Victoria and Albert and both make a wonderful contrast of the same scene. Cool, huh?

VAM_Hiroshige_1855_aizurie_Tonosawa_hot_springs_fan_7   ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London

VAM_Tonosawa_HIroshige_fan_view_7c   ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London

Or, how about this spectacular print by Hokusai? Sweet, eh?

National Diet Library – Mt. Myōgi in Kōzu Province – notice the signature in the circle in the upper right along the right side: Saki no Hokusai Manji (前北斎卍) – Manji? – The manji (卍) is a character which literally means ‘ten thousand’. Ewa Machotka says that it translates as “Manji, previously Hokusai” and that he started using it in books in 1825 and on art works from 1834 on. It had previously been misread as ‘Zen Hokusai Manji’. Therefore, Hokusai had started using this Buddhistic-laden character some time after his 60th birthday, a significant accomplishment in those days and one that held incredible significance in Japan and China.

This image of Mt. Myōgi is from a set of eight fan prints. Richard Lane wrote of this image: “…probably the most remarkable of the set is that depicting Mt. Myōgi, with pilgrims perched precariously on on of the fantastically jagged peaks. It is a scene dramatically divorced from reality…” And thank goodness it is.

I know, I know, its not Hiroshige, but I don’t care. Its my post and maybe in time you will thank me for straying from the straight and narrow. Here is the same Hokusai fan print, but this time in printed in many colors. Which do you prefer?


One more fan print at this post just for the fun of it – I could have put this Hiroshige fan print with one of my ‘heffalump’ posts, but decided to put it here because it is such a startling change from what I have shown above.  Although it isn’t labeled as Eguchi no kimi as Fugen, that is what I have chosen to call it.

VAM_Hiroshige_uchiwa_Eguchi_no_kimi_fan_elephant_7b   ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London


For those of you who would like to see more information about Japanese art and culture please visit my other web site at

For a ton more information – scattered and diverse – visit my index/glossary pages. You will find links to numerous individual pages about half way down the home page. Just click on any of them and then brace yourself. Enjoy the ride! Thanks!

1 Comment »

  1. This is a fantastic post. I’ve never even heard of the Manggha, and an eastern European museum with high quality collection images is almost unheard of, but I do know Leonardo da Vinci’s most beautiful painting is in Krakow. Coincidence? I found your blog randomly with a search query of snake boar Japanese folk tale — I’m trying to figure out a snake/boar netsuke — and it brought me to your snake post, the one with the Caravaggio at the top. I couldn’t agree with you more about the transcendent greatness of Hiroshige and Hokusai. And yes, they are a little over exposed, but not being a collector, that doesn’t bother me as much. I think the more people who know their names, the better. By the way, your 10% rule is on view right now at SAM — a whole room of mediocre Renoirs, but the really gorgeous peaches are by Henri Fantin-Latour, not exactly a household name. Do you have a physical store in Port Townsend? I will have to come see you one of these days. Until then, I will just have to savor the rest of your blog. Thank you so much!

    Comment by Lucchesa — January 7, 2016 @ 8:07 pm | Reply

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

%d bloggers like this: