100 Poets : Set #3 : Shun-e Hoshi

Shun-e Hoshi

This print, the fourth in this year's set, shows the priest Shun-e, who lived in the 12th century, and served at the famous Todaiji in Nara. He is the third generation of his family that I have carved! His father Toshi yori Ason was in last year's set, and his grandfather Dainagon Tsunenobu appeared in my first year's work. When I was making the distribution of poets among my 10 sets, I didn't consider family relationships at all, and it is purely coincidental that they have appeared in consecutive years. (For those who are curious - no, there are no more members of this family waiting to be carved ....)

All through the never-ending night
I lie awake and think;
In vain I look to try and see
The daybreak's feeble blink
Peep through the shutter's chink.

I find the image evoked by Shun-e's poem rather chilling, but have to confess that it seems rather unreal to me. Nights for me are never 'never-ending'. Michiyo tells me that I usually fall asleep within the first minute or so of going to bed, and remain absolutely unconscious until dragged awake by either the kids or the cat in the morning, and I'm sure that this will happen again tonight. Perhaps it will have something to do with today's activities: delivering Fumi-chan to the day care center on my bicycle then swimming 700 meters at the pool, printing the five colours on 60 copies of Shun-e's print (taking breaks to make trips to the bank and post office, meet with our two part-time workers to discuss details of next week's wrapping and shipping, and prepare and teach two English classes), and finally writing this little memo .... Lie awake all night?

The other day, when I made the first test copies of this print and showed them to Michiyo, she said, 'Mmmm nice smooth colour ... but is it correct?' What she was concerned about was whether or not I had chosen the proper colour for a priest of this particular rank. Many aspects of Japanese behaviour in the society of that time were dictated by rigorous rules, and appropriate colours for the clothing of persons of all positions were strictly controlled. Just what was the appropriate colour for Shun-e's kimono at the time he wrote his poem? I have not dragged out the reference books and tried to find out. I have no desire whatsoever to allow myself to be bound by those centuries-old rules, and neither did Shunsho when he designed his book. This print series is not a history lesson, but an expression of the tastes of its two creators, Katsukawa Shunsho and David Bull. I will continue to try and use my collection of basic pigments to create colours that look right for each print, always staying within the palette available to printmakers of Shunsho's era. I'm enjoying these colours, and I hope they please your eye, too.

Coming up next, Harumichi no Tsuraki ...

May 1991