A Handbook of Modern Japan

by Ernest W. Clement

Many and distinctive are the arts of the Japanese metal-workers. They are widely renowned for their skill in compounding numerous alloys, for inlaying one metal upon another, for clever manipulation of refractory materials such as wrought iron of exceeding toughness which they nevertheless carve and chase almost as though it were wax, for casting in bronze and iron by the cire perdue process, and especially for the manufacture of armor, both offensive (such as swords and spears) and defensive (such as helmets and coats of mail). Japanese swords excel even the famous blades of Damascus and Toledo, and the names of the swordsmiths Munichika, Masamune, Muramasa, and others, are now of international reputation. The blades which were made by these men are not only of extraordinary excellence, but are also veritable works of art and highly prized as such by connoisseurs. Equally celebrated in different lines are the works of the Miochin and Goto families; and among the metal-workers of to-day are many worthy successors of these giants of the past.

The art of enamelling upon metal is, with some exceptions, comparatively a new one in Japan, but is now very popular. The wares are known to the Japanese as Shippō-yaki, and in general, in the West, as cloisonné. The centres of the enamel-workers are Tōkyō, Kyōto, and Nagoya, and the best-known makers are Namikawa, of Tōkyō, the inventor of the “cloison-less” enamel, and his namesake of Kyōto.

One of the most distinctive of the arts of Japan is that of lacquering, and the Japanese product far excels that of any other makers. The lac, which is a varnish made from the poisonous sap of a tree of the sumac (rhus) family, is applied in thin layers on a carefully prepared ground, usually of wood, and after being dried in a moist oven or steam-chest, is carefully rubbed down and polished. This is repeated with each layer. Various substances, metallic and other, are mixed with the lac or applied to its surface before it is dry, and it may be carved and inlaid in different ways. This is a bare outline of a process which is long and tedious and which has many variations. Extended accounts with many interesting details will be found in Rein’s “Industries of Japan,” in the ninth volume of the Transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, and in Volume VII. of Captain Brinkley’s “Japan.”

PAINTING BY YASUNOBU: HERON AND LOTUS

Embroidery, like the designing for brocades and other fabrics, is an art which follows closely the analogies of the art of painting, and is governed by the same æsthetic principles. The embroiderers in Japan are not women but men, and in their work they often display remarkable taste and ability as designers, as well as craftsmanship of the highest order.

To Occidental ears Japanese music, set, as it always is, in a minor key and abounding in discords, seems unworthy of the name of music. To characterize it as merely “strummings and squealings” because it does not conform to our ideas, is, however, an unfair aspersion. The fact is that it is based upon a scale which differs from that which we use, one of its peculiarities being the introduction of a semi-tone above the tonic. In the Japanese mind music is so closely related to the sister arts of poetry and dancing that neither can well be treated separately. As Captain Brinkley tells us: “There is no Japanese music that will not serve as accompaniment for the Japanese stanza, and the stanza, in turn, adapts itself perfectly to the fashion of the Japanese dance. The law of the unities seems to have prescribed that the cadence of the stanza should melt into the lilt of the song, and that the measure of the song should be worked out by the ‘woven paces and waving hands’ of the dance. The affinity between them is so close that it is difficult to tell where one begins and the other ends.”

Japanese poetry is also conspicuously different from that of the Occident. It is a form of word painting in brief lyrics, and “it is primarily an expression of emotion.” The odes which all Japanese learn to compose are verbal melodies which can be neither transposed nor translated. Owing to the nature of the Japanese language, there are no accented syllables, nor is there any quantity, nor any rhyme. This is well explained by Aston in his “History of Japanese Literature.” He says:—

“As every syllable ends in a vowel, and as there are only five vowels, there could only be five rhymes, the constant reiteration of which would be intolerably monotonous.... The only thing in the mechanism of Japanese poetry which distinguishes it from prose is the alternation of phrases of five and seven syllables each. It is, in fact, a species of blank verse.”

The art of dancing, which consists mainly in rhythmic posturings, often of great beauty, and requiring not only physical training of the most rigorous character but a high degree of skill, is in turn intimately associated with the histrionic art. For an account of the early dances and their gradual merging into the classical drama or dance known as Nō (literally, “accomplishment”), the reader is referred to the third volume of Captain Brinkley’s “Japan: Its History, Arts, and Literature.” Few foreigners ever learn to appreciate Japanese dancing. Its primary purpose is mimetic. “The mechanics of the dance,” says Brinkley, “are as nothing to the Japanese spectator compared with the music of its motion, and he interprets the staccato and legato of its passages with discrimination amounting almost to instinct. In exceptional cases the foreigner’s perception may be similarly subtle,” but as he must generally be unable to apprehend the esoterics of the dance, he is “like one watching a drama where an unknown plot is acted in an unintelligible language.”