Steve Waszak

Hi Keith, Well, there are a few things I might say in response... One of these is just to observe that most of the tosogu that most of us are interested in (study, collect, etc...) and that, I would say, inspired the thread in the first place are those associated with the (relatively) rarefied atmosphere of which you speak... Same goes for blades, no? How many of us seek out the mass-produced weapons of the 16th-century? These are less interesting, less awe-inspiring, less beautiful, less-well-crafted (or "uncrafted"), less collectable. They may have been used predominantly by the "men who did the fighting and the dying," but that fact does not imbue those blades with greater value than those blades which are and have been traditionally more esteemed. Those mass-produced swords may have great value as historical artifacts, but as examples of blade-smithing mastery, they don't. Same goes for tsuba, except that in addition to qualitative superiority (at least as concerns artistry, if not necessarily physical functional performance), the more exalted tsuba also, as I have said, had multifarious and, at times, profound semiotic function. I would make two further observations: first, it's not as though all samurai had only one tsuba to his name. An Ashigaru may have had just one, basic, utilitarian tsuba fitted to his sword (I wonder how many such tsuba still exist). But for higher-ranking bushi (I don't mean only the highest-ranked men here; I mean those of even lower-middle rank, who certainly did plenty of fighting), to have had more than a single "fighting" guard for his sword would not have been uncommon. And, yes, I think it likely that the highest-ranked individuals had several tsuba to choose from in outfitting their several blades and/or koshirae. Second, unless you are speaking of the lowest of the foot-soldier types, I DO think the extreme rank- and hierarchy-consciousness of the buke---once they had established themselves as a distinct and identifiable class---would have "trickled down" to even the "lesser" samurai. This is not to say, of course, that in the middle of a battle, such men would have been thinking at all times of their rank and how it was being expressed. But these men were not always fighting. And when they weren't (which was most of the time, after all), I would argue that they were likely to have been conscious of their rank and social status, and the various ways in which these were expressed. That this would have extended to tsuba is not much of a stretch. Again, we have to keep in mind that according to period and province or region there were probably variances in these dynamics... Cheers, Steve

An interesting topic... I would be skeptical, too, about tsuba functioning as a formal, that is, "official" indicator of rank. But I have no doubt whatsoever that they served powerfully as status markers. I’m not sure how far back such semiotic function might have gained a foothold among the buke, but it is certainly clear enough that by the Momoyama Period the dynamic of object-as-status-symbol/marker was well established. And on a koshirae, THE dominant semiotic agent would have been the tsuba. There are a few points to be emphasized here: While the koshirae (including the tsuba) that houses a blade is of course secondary in importance to the blade itself, to see the koshirae---and the tsuba---as therefore of little importance is to show one’s lack of recognition of the extreme significance of semiotic function in a culture. And Japan is a culture whose exquisite sensitivity to subtlety, to nuance, to meaning-through-suggestion or allusion, to connotation versus denotation, is second to none in the world’s history. It is flat impossible to understand this and then decide that tsuba would have no important function as a semiotic agent. To do so would be an act of willful ignorance. By the Momoyama Period, we have some few tsubako signing their work. It is disingenuous to consider this fact and then conclude that, despite the clear implications of such a practice, the tsuba made by such individuals would not carry a greater cultural weight of some kind, whether that be expressly political or otherwise. The particular and specific artists of this time who were signing/carving names onto the tsuba they made were all associated with high-ranking bushi. Most if not all of these tsubako were retainers for these high-ranking individuals. The power-status dynamic is thus seen in that fact. It strains credulity to think that some low-ranking foot soldier, who happened in some manner to come into possession of such a tsuba, would be able to employ it on his koshirae and not be taking a risk. To say the least. Such an action would be seen as presumptuous by those who outrank him, and that wouldn’t likely go down so well. I am speaking here of a foot-soldier/low-ranking bushi who is actually affiliated with a family/clan, rather than of a ronin; even in the case of the latter, though, it is not difficult to imagine that he would find it harder to find employment if it were determined he was “putting on airs.” This would have been even more the case by the Edo Period than it might have been earlier, when the various codes and prescriptions applying to samurai were even more rigidly adhered to. In any hierarchical system of rank, there will always be a heightened sensitivity to propriety. That is, there will be an increased sensitivity as regards how one comports oneself according to his rank/station. We already know that the Buke of the Edo Period (and to some degree prior to this) were exceedingly conscious of their class, and of their rank/station within the particular clan/family they were a part of. Much of their “presentation of self” was heavily codified and ritualized, right down to the way they occupied space physically, the way they moved, the way they spoke (or whether they spoke), and of course, the way they dressed. It is nearly incomprehensible to think that extreme consciousness of how one’s koshirae presented publicly would not have been part of this larger dynamic. This would include, of course, the tsuba. For a class of men about whom nearly every detail of their being expressed meaning---political and social meaning---and for whom the sword symbolized and embodied their identities and purposes in life, how could it be that the single most important element of their “public swords,” that is, not the blades themselves, but the koshirae, didn’t express important social and political meaning? Clearly, tsuba must have had and did have this function. The specifics and degrees to which they did very likely depended on period and region. But there simply cannot be any doubt about the tsuba as semiotic agent. Cheers, Steve

For the life of me, I cannot understand why reasonably seasoned collectors want to bother with NBTHK papers for such tsuba. Look at the tsuba. Look at it. You can see what it is. Curran's comments about the same guard receiving two different sets of papers with different judgments/attributions echo what I've heard several times now, and only underscores how questionable it is (to put it mildly) to bother submitting such pieces for papers. I am genuinely curious to know why, given that it is undeniable that the NBTHK is unreliable when it comes to "identifying" mumei tsuba (and in some cases, non-mumei tsuba), collectors still A. send such pieces in for papers, and B. have any faith in whatever judgment is rendered. Let me be clear: I am not criticizing the NBTHK here, exactly. They are human, and can make mistakes, or, simply, can be unsure of what a given piece may be. This is understandable. What I AM criticizing is what seems to be an unshakable faith many seem to have in the not-to-be-doubted "last word" of the NBTHK, even when it is known that the NBTHK either makes mistakes when it comes to making attributions on these mumei guards or shows that it doesn't really know what the piece is when it issues two sets of papers with differing attributions for the same tsuba. As far as I'm concerned, there is no point to submitting mumei tsuba for shinsa. I can sort of see why a collector might submit a signed piece, especially if the authenticity of the tsuba and/or the mei is in question. Even then, I'd have doubts (as I've seen serious errors here, too), but for mumei works? No. Cheers, Steve

Mike, Thanks so much for posting these. Truly a fantastic set. Cheers, Steve

Superb effort, Clive. Outstanding. Cheers, Steve

Hi Hoanh, Sounds good to me. We could meet for coffee some place and chat... Have yet to hear back from Sam, though. Cheers, Steve

Seems there are actually a few of us here in the southwest corner... Cheers, Steve

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...