After landing at Tanegashima island in 1543, Portuguese merchants quickly developed an interest in Japanese lacquerware. Renowned for being the very best quality available,[1] many of Europe’s elites were eager to obtain furniture items in lustrous black lacquer from Kyoto and would often pair these with the pristine white of Chinese ceramics to present themselves to their peers as worldly collectors of curiosities from the mysterious Orient. At the request of their novel clientele, Japanese craftsmen specializing in pearl inlays (raden) and paintings in sprinkled gold- and silver powder (maki-e) developed a distinct style in lacquerware destined for export to Europe, known as Namban. Having arrived at Japan from the Indonesian spice islands, the long-nosed Portuguese who were literally branded ‘barbarians from the south’ must have expressed tastes in art that were considered curious or perhaps even similarly ‘barbaric’. This arguably resulted in a uniquely international style of export wares that was definitely not European, but neither fully Japanese.

Before us is a remarkably oblong Namban cabinet featuring a single door that conceals an interior with a total of six drawers of various sizes. Most Namban cabinets are of a type called escritorio. These are typically squarish in shape and feature a fall-front door that could be used as a surface for writing. Our cabinet though, opens vertically instead of horizontally, and strays from the more or less standardized proportions of Namban furniture by being surprisingly deep and featuring striking cartouches in cracked shards of abalone pearl. More importantly, its sprinkled maki-e images seems a cut above the average quality of that found in Namban lacquer. And as we shall later discuss, they feature motifs that are rarely seen within this particular group of export wares. The famous scholar João Rodrigues was already keen to point out that three levels of quality in Japanese lacquer were available while working as a Jesuit interpreter during late sixteenth century. He notes that most items brought to Europe -especially escritorio- belonged to the upper range of low-quality items at best, with prices going steadily upwards as quality rose to a point where he claims that ‘only lords (...) can afford them’.[2] His testimony clearly hints towards Namban lacquerware generally being made rather quickly and in large volumes, with special orders for unique items rapidly cutting into the profit margins of Portuguese traders.

The vast majority of maki-e decorations on Namban lacquerware can therefore be qualified as predominantly decorative, painted by ‘fast hands’ that were trained in covering large surfaces. Decorations tend to be densely applied, interspersed with shimmering shards of mother of pearl and locked up in simple geometrical frames or bands. Having to work with European buyers whose tastes would have been difficult to ascertain, many maki-e artisans arguably gave little thought to their designs as long as they appealed to a generic sense of exoticism, mixing influences from Japanese, Korean and Gujurati wares that were en vogue during the final decades of the sixteenth century.[3] Because of this, we often see foliage from different seasons combined in the sprawling vines of Namban decorations, as well as animals like phoenixes, shishi lions, cranes, and peacocks that appear almost randomly positioned and robbed of their original poetic context.

This makes it all the more surprising to discover obvious references to the Tale of Genji in our cabinet. Genji’s epos is known as the world’s oldest novel, written in the 11th century and attributed to the lady-in-waiting Murasaki Shikibu. Its story follows the life of Hikari Genji, the handsome and charismatic son of an Emperor and a concubine of lower rank. The main focus is on Genji’s many romantic escapades and his dawning realization of the fleeting nature of love and ultimately life itself. This characteristic expression of pathos in Heian period (794-1185) poetry is called mono no aware or the ‘sadness of things’ and is often discretely alluded to in works of maki-e through a single flower, animal, or seemingly random courtly attribute within in a landscape.

We can find such a discrete reference in our Namban cabinet in the form of a large ox-drawn carriage painted on the left-hand side, positioned between flowering chrysanthemums, Chinese bell flowers, and a branching sycamore. Such carts are known as goshoguruma (御所車) and would have been instantly recognized by an educated Japanese audience as a means of transportation for the Heian-period’s nobility. More specifically, the goshoguruma famously features in the ninth chapter of the Tale of Genji, which describes a dramatic and passionate clash between Genji’s lawfully wedded wife and his envious mistress lady Rokujō. Perhaps the two butterflies in the upper left corner were added to the composition to represent the rivalling ladies in question. But looking further, it appears that the image of the cart connects to the decoration on the top of the cabinet. In it, we find a tranquil garden with pine trees and draping wisteria flowers in full bloom. Whereas the scene with the cart invokes a sense of open conflict, the pivotal thirty-third chapter of the Tale of Genji titled New Wisteria Leaves revolves around reconciliation. After inviting Genji into his garden to view the blossoming wisteria, Genji’s rival Tō no Chūjō grants permission for his daughter to marry Genji’s son, thereby bringing a long-standing feud to end and contrasting sharply with the scene of ox-drawn cart.

Although rare, finding references to classical pieces of Japanese literature on export wares is not entirely unheard of. A domed coffer from the collection of the Namban bunkakan museum in Osaka features an encounter of noblemen on its lid,[4] and of course the famous Van Diemen Box from the Victoria and Albert Museum is known to display the coming-of-age ceremony of the novel’s main character. Although both items date from the slightly later transitional phase in which designs were altered to match the tastes of Dutch merchants, it would be safe to conclude that Genji-based designs fall within a small group of rare items that were considered the top range of export lacquerware, and may have been produced as special orders for a more discerning clientele.

Curiously though, references to the Tale of Genji appear to end with the wisteria garden on top of the cabinet. There doesn’t appear to be an obvious continuation of the story on the right-hand side, which instead shows a group of deer surrounded by autumn foliage. One lifts its head and inaudibly brays into the dark of night. Although unrelated to Genji, the image is filled with poetic significance. The cry of the deer is a direct reference to a classical poem from the Kokin Wakashū bundle that likewise invokes a strong feeling of mono no aware. After waking up in the dead of night, a lone mountain recluse emerges from his hut and exclaims: ‘The mountain village during autumn is especially lonely. The braying of the deer never ceases to awaken me.’[5] While the same poem is depicted within a renowned calligraphy box in Tokyo’s Nezu Museum,[6] its direct relationship to Murasaki Shikibu’s novel eludes us. The same holds true for the prowling tigers inside a bamboo grove with a flowering Paulownia tree that are displayed on the cabinet door. Although clearly influenced by the Tosa school of painting and intended to convey a general sensation of strength,[7] it does not appear to relate to any of the other paintings or hold any particular meaning. Almost as if the maki-e artisan suddenly decided to abandon his attempt to enrich the cabinet with poetic references, and perhaps begrudgingly returning to staple Namban decorations like the unassuming arrowroot foliage on the back of the cabinet and the Chinese bell flower, Patrinia, sycamore and Paulownia motifs on the drawer fronts.

Which Portuguese merchant commissioned this curiously poetic export cabinet will probably remain a mystery. Nor will we ever know whether or not its buyer was in any way aware of the secret messages conveyed through the elegant paintings in gold, silver, and mother of pearl. What we do know though, is that a lacquer artisan from around 1600 undertook a remarkably early attempt at introducing Japanese literature and poetry to the ‘Southern Barbarians’ that had landed on their shores. And for what it’s worth; his message is now partially understood four hundred years later.

Dave von Gompel

[1] João Rodrigues writes the following when comparing Japanese lacquerware to Chinese lacquerware: ‘Although the Chinese have a large variety of gilded things and use a great deal of varnish, (...) for however skilful they may be they cannot equal the Japanese in this art.’ Cooper, Michael (ed.) They came to Japan: an anthology of European reports on Japan, 1543-1640. University of Michigan Center for Japanese Studies, 1995. p. 259

[2] Idem

[3] Impey, Oliver, Christiaan Jörg. Japanese Export Lacquer 1580-1850. Hotei Publishing, 2005. p. 78, 79.

[4] Sakai City Museum. 「南蛮漆器―漆芸にみる東洋交流」Sakai city museum, 1983. p. 42, 43.

[5] Mibu no Tadamine 「古今和歌集」Late 9th, early 10th century. Original text in Japanese: 「山里は秋こそことにわひしけれ 鹿の鳴く音に目をさましつつ」

[6] Nezu Museum, object no. 50003 (春日山蒔絵硯箱).

[7] The Tosa and Kanō schools were the dominant schools of painting during the transition of the Momoyama period into the Edo period. The depiction of prowling tigers was a popular motif amongst battling warlords and features on many paintings and screens. Similar to tigers, the rigid, unyielding bamboo and Paulownia tree convey strength.