Steve Waszak

Just want to extend my congratulations, too, Ford. Nicely done. Cheers, Steve

Greetings, gentlemen... Anyone here have dealings with Shuzando in Japan? If so, I'd appreciate your thoughts (via PM, of course...). Cheers, Steve

Hi Rich, Thanks for posting this link... I went back and re-read this thread, and I am still not convinced by the argument that the "off-balance" seppa-dai is a matter of the poor execution to be found on very latter-day tsuba. Or even on early tsuba. I understand the logic of the points made here regarding fitting the tsuba to the koshirae, of course. But here's the problem for me: in examining the tsuba Rich has provided the link to here, we can see this "misshapen" seppa-dai. But we can also see no small degree of care being put into the design and execution of the tsuba. The rendering of the monkey's face and fur was not done in slap-dash fashion, and some care was taken, too, in finishing the sukashi, etc... My point is that for all of this concern to be given to these various aspects of finishing the tsuba, are we then supposed to believe that the tsubako was so inept that he couldn't see the "out-of-balance" look to the seppa-dai, or, if he could see this, that he was incapable of creating "balanced" seppa-dai? This makes little sense to me. A second point: we see these out-of-balance seppa-dai from time to time, but not infrequently, they are unbalanced in the same way. Such a pattern of unbalance suggests that they are not unbalanced at all, rather, that we simply don't understand the reasons for deliberately rendering seppa-dai this way. I'm happy to be wrong in what I'm saying here, but I'm genuinely confused by the assertion that what we're seeing here is occurring due to sloppiness on the part of the tsubako, and by the implication that the same kind of sloppiness is recurring coincidentally. Cheers, Steve

For the record, incidentally, I would love to be proven wrong on the assertion that there were more than the two Yamakichibei masters working in the Momoyama Period. I don't really care if that is the actual case (I'm not especially invested in either outcome), I would just like to see the documented proof for this. And by documented proof, I mean some contemporary record (i.e. Momoyama Period record) specifying such. Short of this (i.e. some 19th-century dealer's notion of what was going on 400 years earlier), I'm not inclined to be persuaded that the more-than-two-tsubako idea is incorrect. And if there simply is no documented proof, then we're back where we started, working off of unsubstantiated assumptions on the part of traditional understandings. Steve

Chris, David, The problem with the whole idea of the "parallel but independent" group of artisans making copies without connection to the "real" Yamakichibei workshop is that there is no good reason I have ever seen stated and expounded upon that would sustain this viewpoint logically rather than the other. If Okamoto's words have weight, namely, that these "parallel" tsubako created works so exceedingly good that telling them from the work of the "real" Yamakichibei is as difficult as he suggests, why would the go-to conclusion be that it must be "parallel" artisans, rather than artisans of the actual atelier? This frankly makes no sense, unless one has information which none of the rest of us has. As for the idea that such "new theories" as these will not gain traction without additional evidence, I would just ask where, exactly, the evidence is for there having been just the two masters of the Momoyama period? This is, of course, the popular, traditional understanding, but where, precisely, does it come from? Is there actual evidence for it? I have never seen even the slightest hint of an actual, documentable source for this notion... Given all that has been published about Yamakichibei tsuba in various publications (including several I have had translated), it is surprising, to put it mildly, that not a single word would be offered explaining and documenting the "historical truth" of there having been just the two Yamakichibei masters. The point I was illustrating with the egregious error made by the NBTHK on the kanteisho in question had little to do with the "taxonomy" question, really. I presented this example in order to say not so much that the NBTHK are fallible (of course they are, being comprised of humans), but more to emphasize that those who place blind faith in the results of shinsa should not do so. And I will say it again: this was more than a simple "error." This was a harrowing blunder, indefensible, I don't care how the shinsa is staffed and operated. The kanteisho is the kanteisho is the kanteisho. There is no excuse for such a result. Steve

Gentlemen, A few things... For anyone who has the book Owari To Mikawa no Tanko, and the translation by Markus Sesko, there is the opportunity to read the author's (Okamoto Yasukazu[Kazuo]) rather long chapter on Yamakichibei tsuba. Okamoto was the head of the NBTHK Mikawa branch, and published this book in 1983. In the chapter on Yamakichibei, he offers a number of opinions on the "school," the "generations," and the quality/workmanship of the work of this group. Since Okamoto represents a high-standing member of the NBTHK, we might, naturally enough, suppose that he has access to individual pieces, as well as to information about the Yamakichibei tsubako that few of us do, and that the conclusions he draws (therefore?) are to be accepted without question. And yet, in reading and considering his opinion(s), I can find fault with quite of few of them. For anyone seriously interested in this question, I think it better if we correspond by email, as it would be too cumbersome to get into all the details of Okamoto's ideas/opinions and their weaknesses here. Just to provide a small illustration, however, one of Okamoto's points is that there were other "Yamakichibei" artists working "parallel" with the "real" Yamakichibei tsubako. He notes the extremely high quality of the metal in the work of these "parallel Yamakichibei," the excellent workmanship, the considerable difficulty in distinguishing them from "true" Yamakichibei tsubako work (for this, he relies on differences in the mei), and that these tsuba are contemporary work (made in the same period as those from the "real" Yamakichibei tsubako). Yet he nevertheless concludes that these outstanding iron guards are indeed not authentic works of Yamakichibei. He can't see what this really means: there was a Yamakichibei atelier in Momoyama times with several talented tsubako all making "Yamakichibei" tsuba and affixing their different respective "mei." They are not "fakes" or "forgeries," but legitimate, authentic tsuba produced out of the same atelier. But he is so invested in the old idea of a "shodai" and a "nidai" that he is not seeing what is right there in front of him. He takes for granted that there was a shodai with this mei, a nidai with that mei, and anything that varies from this is perforce a "forgery," "fake," or "copy." Given the existence of the tsuba he has described (excellent quality, exceedingly difficult to tell apart from "genuine," contemporary to the "real" Yamakichibei, etc...) one has to ask which is more likely: that there was only the shodai and nidai across decades of production, or that there was a workshop headed by one or two men over time and which employed a handful of talented artisans? The evidence of the tsuba themselves point emphatically to the latter. Moving on... There is a tendency, especially, perhaps, for many of us in the West, to look upon the word of the NBTHK as "final," as the "deciding voice" in determining the authenticity, authorship, quality, etc... of a given piece. I deliberately note Okamoto's standing as head of the Mikawa branch of the NBTHK in order to show that simple association with the NBTHK does not confer infallibility. In fact, the NBTHK is quite fallible (either that, or is being deliberately deceiving, which is even more disturbing) from time to time. Since we can never know when their fallibility may arise, this makes all of their judgments unreliable, unless we take the time and trouble to educate ourselves sufficiently to know how dependable a particular NBTHK judgment may be. Case in point: below please find a photo of a tsuba which was deemed by the NBTHK to be a "Saotome" work. It indeed was issued a paper specifying as much. Now, we must ask ourselves what is going on here. Either the NBTHK lacks the competence to identify this as a Yamakichibei tsuba (the "bei" ji is still visible on the omote) or at least as a "gimei" Yamakichibei (it is not "gimei," in fact, though; it is again a workshop piece from the Momoyama period), or for some reason is deliberately being deceitful in identifying it as "Saotome." This guard should register to even a casual observer as Yamakichibei in style, motif, and sugata, over and above the remnant "bei" ji to the left of the nakago-ana on the omote. It doesn't take much homework to see this. So how to explain the NBTHK's "decision" here? The fact is, there is no explanation, that is, none that would exculpate the NBTHK in terms of maintaining our confidence in their judgments. In my eyes, this is an unforgivable "error" on their part, and makes any paper they may issue, at least when it comes to tsuba, suspect to say the least. I often hear sentiments expressed in this forum to the effect that "the piece should be sent to shinsa; then we'll have our answer." Well, the "answer" in the above case was "Saotome," which is a patently false answer. The error, if it was an error, rather than deliberate, was egregious, and should be seen as a clear indication that believing the NBTHK will render unassailable judgments is sticking one's head in the sand. Next, as I said, David's tsuba is, in fact, an authentic workshop piece of the Momoyama Yamakichibei atelier. It is not the atelier's, nor this artist's best work, but it is authentic. The most directly visible evidence is in the "bei" ji of the mei. This is rendered in a very distinctive manner by this particular tsubako, and it is consistently encountered in his work. Below I have posted two other examples of his work. Note the way the "bei" ji is rendered in each. The metalwork and aesthetic sensibility are consistent among these, too, but it is the "bei" ji which stands out immediately. I would argue, though, that these other two are of a higher level achievement and are in better condition than David's (sorry, David). Finally, I have also posted a photo of a Norisuke tsuba done as an utsushi of a Nobuiye design. The tsuba is attributed via hakogaki by Dr. Torigoye to Norisuke. Since some on this thread have brought 19th-century utsushi/copies of Momoyama tsuba into the discussion, I thought I'd post this photo for reference. Please excuse the length of this post, but what I present here, I think, needs to be said. Cheers, Steve

John, 19th-century utsushi. Quite possibly, if not probably, by one of the Norisuke, though I'd have to see it in-hand to have a better idea. It copies aspects of both "nidai" and "shodai" work, right down to the mei. Could you provide dimensions, John? What is this tsuba's thickness at the nakago-ana and at the mimi? Thanks for posting... Cheers, Steve

Ah, David... I told you this tsuba would not paper when we spoke some time ago. It is most assuredly NOT by either the smith known as the "shodai" Yamakichibei, nor by the smith known as the "nidai" Yamakichibei. It IS, however, a legitimate Yamakichibei workshop piece from the Momoyama period, as Henry considers in his post. It is "gimei" only because the NBTHK are still stuck in their thinking that over the course of the entire Momoyama and early Edo periods, there were only two Yamakichibei tsubako working. What is vastly more likely is just what Henry describes: a Yamakichibei atelier, first in Kiyosu, then in Nagoya, overseen by a master tsubako, and employing a handful of very talented smiths who took direction from the master and who created some very good work. There are, in fact, a number of known pieces by this very same artist, pieces showing identifiable and consistent characteristics, including the particulars of the mei. I can think of at least four other examples off hand... Moreover, there were several other Momoyama period Yamakichibei atelier tsubako at work, pieces that are not mere utsushi of a later time. They exhibit certain characteristics effectively "marking" them as Momoyama, characteristics which do not show up in Edo period sensibilities, even in utsushi. Your tsuba is not by either of the Norisuke, David. The mei alone is enough to know this, as your tsuba exhibits a mei, as I stated, which is observable in a number of other pieces by this tsubako. Additionally, however, the Norisuke tsubako did not "sign" their utsushi of Yamakichibei in this manner. They also tended to copy the work of the tsubako known as the "shodai" and the tsubako known as the "nidai." Finally, just a small quibble with Henry's post, which otherwise I agree with pretty much entirely. Henry notes that your tsuba, David, "has all the characteristics of 1st generation Yamakichibei but lacks that certain special quality." I concur that this tsuba lacks that certain special quality, as Henry states, but I don't agree that it has all the characteristics of (the tsubako known as) 1st generation Yamakichibei. There are, in fact, significant differences in the tsuba made by these two artists. When one sees the works of the two in-hand, these differences become readily apparent, I think. Again, though, this does not make your tsuba, David, "gimei," unless one buys into the flimsy thinking that there were just the two early Yamakichibei tsubako. Cheers, Steve

I had a very bad experience with fujisan black (Carmen Altomonte) some years ago. Item was NOT as described (to say the least: the blade was described as in flawless condition; when I inspected it after it arrived, there were TWO fatal flaws...). Need I say that he refused to take the piece back, even with photos documenting the flaws? I would never consider buying from him again. Steve

Hi Mark, I believe the maker of this tsuba is Nishio Kunitomo Masayuki, a Mikawa province tsubako of the 18th century. It's hard to tell from the small size of the photo, but it might be the same piece illustrated in Owari To Mikawa no Tanko by Okamoto. The subject is Otafuku no zu. Hope this helps. Cheers, Steve

David, Fascinating history of your finding this tsuba. Its identical twin was for sale (quickly sold) some eight years ago on one of the sites listed in the links section here. I remember it because I hurried to buy it, but was too late. Very nice tsuba. Would love to see other photos of it... ) Cheers, Steve

Well, the real difference was the wall built at Hakata Bay. This prevented horsemen and foot soldier from penetrating inland en masse, and kept the fighting largely on the beaches, in small groups or in one on one face-offs. In such circumstances, the invaders were no match for the samurai, despite the vastly superior numbers for the former. Thomas Conlan's book on the subject should be required reading... Cheers, Steve

Peter, Good questions you ask here. As to the matter of why interest in certain types of tsuba spikes or lags at different times, I think one reason might be that if influential books are published---books which might feature famous or "important" collections, and which offer both excellent writing (very, very rare in the world of tsuba publications) and superb photography---the result may be increased interest in the types of tsuba highlighted in that book. I think a classic example of this is Sasano's Sukashi Tsuba: Early Japanese Sword Guards. I believe the publication of this book had a rather pronounced effect on the interest in iron tsuba, especially on iron sukashi guards, of course. While the photography of the examples in this book is not outstanding by current standards, at the time of the book's publication the photography was relatively good, and the layout (one tsuba per page with a fairly detailed comment on each tsuba) was very well-conceived. And the writing remains the finest in English on the subject in my opinion. Following the publication of the "gold book" (the book I am speaking of above), Sasano's "silver book" came out some twenty years later (1993 or 1994, I believe). This book featured vastly improved photography (but much poorer writing), and among the wonderful pieces presented were a number of tosho and katchushi tsuba. You note in your post here the popularity of these types of tsuba in the 1990s... I wonder if this book had anything to do with it. Frankly, the popularity of Namban tsuba mystifies me. Not a fan. Even the "best" pieces to my eye are lost in their own busy-ness; I see little or none of the "first aesthetic quality" Dr. Torigoye speaks of. They are entirely dependent on the "second aesthetic quality" of surface carving for whatever aesthetic appeal they have, but in my view they are "over-carved" to put it mildly. The concept of "Less is More," which informs so much Japanese artistic output across a multitude of genres, does not find application on the Namban tsuba. Perhaps for some their appeal has (more) to do with the impact of foreign cultural and/or aesthetic sensibilities on tsuba design. I really can't say... Good topic, Peter... Cheers, Steve

Agreed. Great thread. Well, as concerns this particular Kaneie tsuba, I think it is a lot of things, really, that contribute to its being such a widely recognized masterpiece. I had the opportunity to see this guard in person at the Hosokawa exhibit in San Francisco a couple of years ago, which, needless to say, was a real treat. And frankly, it was only there, being able to see it “live” from many angles, that I was able to fully appreciate its greatness. As Brian notes, one starts with the metal, which appears very finely forged. To me, if we’re talking about iron tsuba, the plate is the plate is the plate. That is, if the plate is mediocre, the tsuba is mediocre, regardless of the rest of its features. The forging and working of the plate on this tsuba is masterful, from the fine hammer work to its relative (and pleasing) thinness. This brings me to the shape of the guard. In my sense of things, one could remove all of the “decorative” features of this tsuba---take away the deer and the maple and the background scenery---and it would still be a fantastic piece. Why? Well, besides the plate quality, the shape of the tsuba---and here I mean not only its basic gata, but also its three-dimensional sculpting---together with what I think are magnificently realized hitsu-ana, result in a wonderfully well-balanced composition. The tsuba has that fantastic Momoyama breadth that we don’t see much at all in other periods. Even the hitsu-ana shaping accentuates and visually extends the width of the guard, to superb effect. I really wonder why more tsuba artists didn’t create pieces that were as wide as or ever wider than they were long/tall... So among the metal quality, the working of the plate, the guard’s shape (three-dimensionally), and the particular hitsu-ana used, it is already a masterpiece in my eyes. The weakest part of the tsuba, to me, is the decoration. Not that it’s weak; it just isn’t as brilliantly realized as the rest (again, IMHO only). Having said this, however, I think what makes the relatively crudely-executed deer work in this piece is that they provide a delightful counterplay not only to the more solemn associations we would have with shrines and temples, but also to the serious “visual weight” the tsuba’s plate and shape confer on the piece. That is, against a backdrop of solemnity, two deer appear in the foreground, carefree, perhaps, but in any case rather “lightly” rendered, charmingly sculpted and placed by the artist, looking almost more like toy representations of deer than as naturally- and realistically-depicted animals. This, to be sure, is as Kaneie intended. I would suggest his rendering of the maple branch reinforces this effect, as it, too, is relatively “crudely” depicted. With such “crudeness,” though, comes strength, a strength gained from expressing the subject in something of a more essential form than if it were represented in a more delicately realistic manifestation. The deer could certainly be taken as Disney-esque (I can see this, yes... ;o), but I believe it is their “lightness” counterposed against the deep solemnity of the rest of the guard that makes the way they’re done on this tsuba work so well. One last point: the Momoyama Period is seen by many as being the apex of Japanese artistic mastery (I certainly would say this). Many of the art forms of this time managed to express/capture poignant aesthetic sensibilities, among these sabi, shibusa, wabi, yugen, and, perhaps most relevant to our discussion here, mono-no-aware---the “pathos of things.” This Kaneie tsuba masterfully evokes this feeling, I think. It works synergistically, holistically, to express this pathos. This isn’t to say other Kaneie don’t achieve this, too (many do, I would say). But few if any others express the degree of light playfulness that this guard does. Even the wonderful “monkey-moon” tsuba are too immediately associated with the proverbial lesson to be learned from the subject depicted to result in a prevailing mood of lightness or playfulness. This, at any rate, is why I think this tsuba is so iconic in its status as one of the very best tsuba extant. But, having said all of this, I still much prefer Nobuiye tsuba to those of Kaneie. This is due, though, to simple personal preference, and not to one artist being inherently “better” than the other. I’m just not much of a fan of pictorial representation in tsuba, and enjoy more abstract or (secondarily) stylized subjects. But this is, as I say, just me. ;o) Cheers, Steve

Henry, If you'd like to exchange PMs on this, I'd be happy to chat about it with you. But this thread is over for me... Cheers, Steve

Sorry, but on re-reading your "argument" here, its sloppiness just begged for response. You say: You then say: If you cannot see the absolute contradiction in these two statements, it helps explain the incoherence of your overall position. The CONCEPT of single-use molds is one that requires ZERO experience or association with either the material or the artisans themselves. What you say in the first quote above makes it seem in a would-be disingenuous way as though hands-on experience would be REQUIRED to learn the one-use-of-a-mold-only CONCEPT. Then you say (correctly, this time) that such a concept is not a "'deep secret,' quite the contrary." I can imagine that anyone trying to follow the "logic" of your position would be perplexed at the very least. You then go back to the false notion that experience would matter in grasping the concept of the single-use mold in the quote below: As a capper, in the quote below, you manage to contradict yourself quite nicely in a single line: So it is "not that important," but it is an "important difference"... And you butcher the quote integration at the end so badly that the whole claim you make here amounts to gibberish. Your argument is contradictory, and is grossly misleading in the way it seizes on tangentially-relevant details and exaggerates whatever importance they may have as though they were central to the primary issue. As an argument, it is singularly unimpressive, and laughably smug in its tone.

So, no interest in taking this to PMing? Not to belabor the point, but you have made it seem as though "experience" so vastly superior to the learning that one might gain from texts, discussion, and close examination of the object itself after it has been made that one may as well not bother with these latter. I believe I mentioned in another thread that I had grown up in a ceramics culture as provided by my family and our arts community. I have spent decades steeped in the language, aesthetics, philosophy, and, yes, experience of the making of ceramics, specifically in the Japanese tradition. And I can state, therefore, that experience is not the be-all, end-all of knowledge acquisition. I know what I have learned from experience, and what I have learned from texts, dialogue, and the analysis of pieces made hundreds of years ago. The latter is certainly the equal of the former; different types of knowledge are gained. But the concept that a mold would be good for one use only in the casting of an iron tsuba hardly requires living in the deep woods of Japan, spending hours bending over the shoulder of the sage artisan, to learn this "secret." And yeah, sorry, but one can't prove a negative. Just the way it is... Again, let's take this to PMing if you want to continue...

I think it was the implication that if casting technology existed (as per tea kettles), why couldn't tsuba have been made via the process at the same time? Can't prove a negative... We don't know for sure that there was little aesthetic consideration when any of these objects was originally made. Again, negatives can't be proven. We weren't there, so we cannot say that it was not an artistic choice at the beginning. However, this is moot, really, since we are not necessarily speaking of "the beginning." I am happy to be so enlightened by your explanation. However, since I am now enlightened, it shows that it isn't strictly necessary to have worked with these craftsmen: I have learned from a text. Probably best going forward if you and I PM one another on this, Chris, lest things get too toxic...

Gee, Chris. Self-impressed much? The lifelessness of cast surfaces, as of course Ford must agree, is a subjective valuation. To claim that you "know better" is to claim you have objective knowledge where none is to be had, as, again, Ford would have to agree. Now, personally, I am fine with the notion that cast iron surfaces can have some life, or expressiveness, or beauty to them. I've just never seen one (in my subjective viewpoint) in a cast iron tsuba. This thread is about cast iron tsuba. You are going off-track if you simply are discussing "different metal working techniques used by artists to express themselves" without bringing this idea back to cast iron tsuba. So the "obvious" point I am making is apparently escaping you. What is obvious is that cast iron was valued historically as an artistic medium. Who could argue that? We're not talking about "art forms," per se? Of course we are. Cast iron tsuba. You may have drifted off course, but this is what the rest of us are talking about. Sheesh. Now who's being obvious. One could argue anything under the sun, "when complete, is of artistic value." Such a statement could hardly be emptier. Really? Okay, then please point us toward one text, just one, even, that considers cast iron tsuba on their OWN merits. Again, we are talking about cast iron tsuba here, not merely cast iron as used in artistic ways generally. So we would need to see how the results obtained via the casting of iron tsuba are appreciated for those specific results as opposed to or variant from those gained in forged iron tsuba. And don't go quoting all of those craftsmen you have such deep "practical, familiar, and intimate" experience with. Cite a textual source for us peons who don't live in the exalted world you do. I remind you of your quote above: "We are not talking about "art forms" per se, but rather techniques of artistic expression." I remind you, again, of another of your quotes from above: "Same ends" means something, when complete, is of artistic value..." So which is it, Chris? Were art/aesthetics a consideration or not? It was not an artistic choice? You have already said how "obvious" it is that casting and forging iron tsuba, respectively, "would lead to their own results." If this is true, and it is, then it is absurd to say that artistic expression/aesthetics did not factor into the choice to forge, rather than cast, iron tsuba. It is a logical necessity that if the aesthetic results of employing the two respective processes are different, "artistic choice" would absolutely factor into the forging, rather than casting of iron tsuba. And as far as casting an iron tsuba being more time and resource intensive than forging one is concerned, once a mold is made successfully, why not simply make dozens, or hundreds of the same tsuba/design? This would make casting less time and resource intensive, not more, no? After all, the advantage of casting isn't in the production of one tsuba, it's in the potential to create many pieces in relatively little time. Whatever. I'm done with this thread. And I will greatly look forward to meeting you at the SF show, Chris, if you're showing up there... We can get some...clarification. Steve

Chris, Well actually, I would contend with several of your claims here, on more than one front. To begin with, your having done both forging and casting and known master craftsmen in both fields really isn’t germane in and of itself to a discussion on aesthetic values. So I’m not sure why you mention this... Perhaps I'm missing what the precise relevance is... As to your assertion that size doesn’t have “anything to do with it,” what is the “it” in this statement? Do you mean the media to be used? Do you mean the effectiveness of the results achieved? Do you mean the relative effectiveness of the methods employed and how these would (not) be impacted by dimension? Whatever you might mean here, I think you would find a lot of artists who would disagree strenuously with the idea that dimension doesn’t affect the media and methods chosen to be employed in a work of art, as well as the effect sought in the creation of the work. When you say “Forging or casting, they are both simply methods to express oneself in a carbon and iron matrix,” I’m afraid it is not this simple. Everything depends on what “expression” one intends: if one intends to achieve the aesthetic expression achieved via forged and hammered iron, using the method of casting will not realize such results as well actual forging and hammering will. Since cast tsuba do attempt to pass as forged works (or at least attempt to express the same aesthetic details that forged work does), casting can not be seen as an equally legitimate method as forging when the intention is for the guard to look forged. “Both require skill.” I never said they didn’t. On the other hand, building a model airplane, and then building a fighter jet also both require skill... As to “neither [being] ‘better’ or more valid than the other, any more than painting is more ‘art’ than wood block printing,” I would merely reiterate that if the intended result of the two methods is to achieve the aesthetic expression that forging affords, then forging is indeed better and more valid than casting (and it is not infrequently the case that cast tsuba DO intend to emulate the aesthetic/formal details that forged guards feature). I would also ask you, just out of curiosity, if you believe no “art form” to be inherently superior to another. That is, is it your view that the writing to be found in a Hallmark card is no better or worse than that achieved by Shakespeare, Conrad, or Hemingway in their works? If this is the case, it would be helpful if this perspective were made more explicitly known as one of the bases on which you’re forming your opinions. You stress that you don’t “buy the premise that somehow forging iron is intrinsically some sort of higher art than casting.” (Again, you focus on the definition of “art,” but such a discussion would require a bit more time...) I assume you refer here to the result of forging versus the result of casting (as well, perhaps, as the actual respective methods themselves). Once more, I will have to argue that if the aesthetic effects gained by forging are valued more highly than the aesthetic effects gained by casting, then forging is intrinsically a “higher art” than casting is. “They are simply different means to the same ends.” Here is where your position is most problematic: The two means do not achieve the “same ends.” Nowhere near it. Not unless you consider the term “same ends” simply to refer to “iron tsuba.” Cast tsuba are rarely if ever presented or considered on their OWN merits; they are virtually always considered on the merits held by forged works. Cast tsuba seek to emulate the “ends” realized by forged works. This would not be the case if the ends of the two approaches were seen as equal and/or equally valid. But they aren’t. The ends achieved by forging are recognized as more desirable in no small measure than those achieved by casting. In the same way that the ends achieved by Shakespeare, Conrad, and Hemingway are viewed as superior to those of Hallmark “poets.” Finally, the position you advance here would imply that, since “the two approaches are merely different paths to the "same" destination,” the Japanese would certainly have produced cast iron tsuba at least as often as they produced forged works. After all, they were producing cast iron kettles, among other things, so they could have, if they wanted to, right? I mean, especially if "size has nothing to do with" casting. If the Japanese were doing so, though, where are all these cast iron guards? And if they weren’t, why wouldn’t they have been? No one was fighting after the 17th century (and so wouldn't have had fears of their cast iron guards being too brittle for use), so why not use cast iron guards? I think we know. Steve

Hi Ford, Let's not confuse the subject with the metal expression itself (scale helps, too, as I intimated concerning kettles: the larger the metal work, the less deleterious will be the effects of casting as regards capacity for expression in the medium). Tsuba-sized cast metal work---and specifically iron---just isn't going to offer the same expressive possibilities that masterfully forged and hammered iron will. If we remove a tsuba-sized disc from this Rodin sculpture, and compare it to what Nobuiye, Kaneie, Hoan, and other iron masters did with that "disc," well, there won't be a comparison in the "life" of those discs. But we are skittering off-topic a bit, I think. Cheers, Steve

The problem with bringing cast iron kettles into the discussion is that kettles were (virtually) always cast; there is no vastly superior forged metal to compare (what would have to be) the inferior cast version to. Kettles, in other words, are "supposed" to be cast. The art form that is the kettle is not degraded by its having been cast. Additionally, the far greater expanse of material inherent in a kettle (when compared to a tsuba) allows for some subtleties to be explored and expressed. This is not the case for tsuba, needless to say. Whatever artistry we might find in kettles despite their having been cast, we do not find in tsuba. Finally, it must be said that however excellent the effects realized in the casting of kettles, these will never compete with those achieved in superbly-forged iron tsuba. They are clumsy by comparison. This is not to disparage kettles---they are indeed beautiful objects, and the expressive quality they are able to achieve via the casting method is remarkable and worthy of appreciation. This cannot be said for cast iron tsuba. I seriously doubt this last statement even needs to be qualified. Steve

Keith, I believe you have just expressed your Zen side quite poignantly, actually. For exactly the reasons you gave, the making of a cast iron tsuba is about as closely aligned with Zen sensibilities as painting by numbers would be. It's hard to imagine anything less lifeless... Cheers, Steve

Just a couple of quick thoughts here in response... It seems doubtful to me that such low-quality guards would survive the 400+ years since then in any condition, much less a "presentable" one. I would think that, if such a guard did exist, and did survive till today, it would present as a rust-encrusted blob, rather than as a would-be collectable tsuba. Given the climate in Japan, anything made from iron/steel would need considerable care not to become rusted over. And if such a cast-iron tsuba were made then (assuming the technology was there), and if it did become heavily rusted (after all, why would someone care for such a low-quality piece over generations of time?), why would anyone bother to clean and collect such an item? It appears unlikely to me that this would be the case... Cheers, Steve

Hi Keith, Sorry to come back to the discussion a bit late here... I think Ford actually sums up quite well what I would say about tsuba as objects holding and expressing important cultural sensibilities, affiliations, beliefs, and so on. The semiotic function of tsuba is not something that can be dismissed nor ignored when seeking to appreciate what these objects "were." To do so is to say that semiotics has no place in academic/philosophical inquiry, and I don't think such a claim would hold up very well... I would add, too, that the artistic and aesthetic value you see present in tsuba is a cultural matter, and is so in a major way. Perhaps it is a matter of defining the word "culture"? Cheers, Steve