DirkO

Can I first say I like this open discussion idea of yours? You're trying to create a new division of tsuba based on current knowledge. Which is exactly what the people in the past did as well. But obviously they had far less material to go on and were bound by tradition. Regarding your fixation on Akiyama, I suggest you read Sasano's Japanese Swordguard Masterpieces. He actually goes into the current nomenclature of schools and where they originated from. eg Kyo-sukashi were first mentioned in "Honpo Token Koh" (1795) which references an even older publication "Muromachi-Kaki" - a publication that Sasano doubt ever existed. So he was very diligent and critical about how the naming of schools came to be. This is just one example, the other schools are handled in an equal way. In the Toso Tosogu Shogaku Kyoshitsu (NBTHK published - translated by Markus Sesko), Fukushi Shigeo goes even further in dept on the origin of the naming of each school in his typical Q&A fashion. He usually describes what was believed in the past, what's the current view and how they arrived at that and even the uncertainties that still exist and need to be researched further. So does the NBTHK scrutinize old view points and challenge them when they find new info -> yes. However their attributions will always be on the safe side, they will never go on a limb and are very conservative. Which frustrates a lot of collectors, yours truly included. Were the school names decided by Akiyama? -> no, not even close I'm afraid. Maybe a few were, but the majority weren't Is there room for improvement? -> certainly, but what you're proposing is exactly the same what they did - trying to catagorize tsuba based on common traits, which I think is the only way this can be done. Does the NBTHK get it wrong at times? -> yes, they're human. You can easily find examples where they got it wrong. This is also one of the reasons there's now a quotum on the number of pieces put in a shinsa, so they can provide better quality. Is this working? I'll leave that one open as bait "Apparently" isn't the way to go here - you will need to come up with the name of that publication before it can be considered. Shigeo (again NBTHK main office) says in his writings about Owari sukashi tsuba "Let's start with Akiyama and Ogura. We know that some of their theories have been disproven but that does not lessen their contributions" I think we can also include Haynes in that list. Although his theories don't always hold up any more, his contribution was great and shouldn't be overlooked. He was a student of Torigoye, who had a repution of being strong on iron tsuba (not so much on kinko tsuba) Regarding YKB - I suggest you read the "Owari to Mikawa no Tanko" - published 1982 so well after Akiyama and currently considered the most in depth work on the subject. Again, they go deep into the history of why YKB is indeed Owari based. Are there points of discussion in this book as well? Yes, any good thought provoking book will leave some open endings.

From my own collection - the nanako is minute and the design wraps around the nanako mimi - not done in shakudo as one would expect, but shibuichi.

I always thought that Choshu is underrated as a tsuba school - they have some magnificent work.

I use Heibei Okamura choji oil - they've been making it for centuries, so seems like a safe bet!

The original usually around 50USD if you look around a bit - seeing it's so old there's no longer copyright on it, so a new reprint copy can be had for half that price from various websites.

If you have a tsuba with a decorated seppa dai that will prohibit the correct mounting of seppa, be very wary. Function before form. Correct decoration will always be in recess or flush with the seppa dai. Exceptions exist, but are usually purely decorative items.

Collecting for 15+ years - I've always followed the advice of a far more senior collector - 'collect at the top of your budget' - and I've never had more than 15 pieces, I try to upgrade my collection when I have the opportunity so they will suit my ever changing taste.

From "Tosogu - Treasure of the Samurai" a very understated book imo: BORN Murakami Nakanori at some time during the early eighteenth century, this artist is something of a mystery. It is known that he changed his name at various stages of his career, first to Seijiro and then eventually to Jochiku, and that he worked in Shiba in Edo but his lineage as a craftsman is unclear. Robinson states in the Baur Collection catalogue that he began his career inlaying stirrups, a craft he learned from his father. However, Ogawa in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts catalogue doubos this interpretation and considers that this commonly held fallacy derives from the fact that Jochiku's technique of flat inlaying resembles that used extensively by stirrup makers and the wrongful assumption has been perpetuated by uncritical repetition. It does seem something of a quantum leap from the heavy, rather crude inlay found on abumi to the intricate and delicate work found on much of Jochiku's output. According to inscribed worka of his he lived to at least the age of 65 years, but as there is no precise date of birth this is no great help. Hara, however, records a tsuba by him which is signed and dated 1739 in the Staatliche Museen in Berlin. It might be safe to assume, therefore, that he was born not much later than 1720 and died not much later than 1790 His earlier works, usually signed Nakanori, show a preference for the Umetada derived flat-inlaid coloured metals style of decoration. The present piece is a superbly refined example of this style of his, possibly made before he moved on to the type of sword-fittings for which he is better known which utilize large size patterns of fish, shellfish, butterflies and other insects, often with the use of mother-of-pearl and enamels. He had a considerable number of pupils who continued the Murakami School very much in the manner that he initiated. Not least amongst his pupils was Jotetsu, his daughter, whose work was certainly the equal of her father's. It is said that she recruited quite a number of other female artists into the school.

For reference here's my Murakami F/K set:

Hi Jake, There's articles in some books, but nothing too elaborate AFAIK. Please read this article by the late (and dearly missed) Ford Hallam: https://followingthe...nd-artistic.html?m=1 One of the hallmarks besides the theme and the large interpretation of the inlay, would be that chirimen ground. The auction you're referring to would be 'in the style of' at best, I'm afraid. This is also reflected in the price.

FWIW - I've frequently imported tsuba via JP Post / EMS, who partners with BPost in Belgium. In think the word 'sword' did you in, I've always used 'tsuba' or just 'Japanese antique'. Last import was a few months ago, so it would surprise me if things changed in the meantime.

I think it represents the 3 vinegar tasters More info

JT24 - Soshu Yukimitsu JT8 - den Yukimitsu JT20 - den Soshu Yukimitsu JT - den Soshu Yukimitsu JT67 - Soshu Yukimitsu

probably alludes to Kaneyuki - 兼随 (2nd gen Hamano school) First gen Hamano Shozui also used 隨 instead of 随 (simplified kanji)

I think he needed another gold for Mukansa @1kinko

First of all - thank you all for the valuable input - much appreciated! I don't think it's a random gathering of sages/hermits. Steve's tsuba shows the exact same 3 figures. We see the toad, the staff/crutch and the hyotan which is (amongst others) also associated to Zhang Guolao - so they seem to be a logical and recurring theme. On that tsuba I can also the same plants (bamboo, ume) as on mine. Piers suggested that it might be 松竹梅 ‘shō chiku bai’, the triple (pine, ume, bamboo) because at the back of mine there's a pine tree. Chances are that Shoami will have a similar theme. So it's very much an auspicious theme of good fortune, longevity,...

Basically the seppa could be a make shift cauldron

A recent addition to my collection has a very - to me - illusive theme. It's about 3 hermits (going on their clothes and general demeanor). Left one has a toad, middle one a staff and the right one a turtle. Obviously the toad led me to Gamma Sen'nin and the turtle could indicate Kame Sen'nin. But it didn't really match. As with most of these kind of themes they hail back to Chinese mythology. I noticed the crutch was actually burnished or inlaid in a slightly different metal than the iron that makes up the plate. The fact that the artist put so much effort in that crutch made me think it was done to define the figure's identity. Gamma Sen'nin seemed the logical path to go down and I ended up with Taoism and the 8 immortals of which I think 3 are portrayed here: Liu Haichan - basically the predecessor of Gama Sen'nin - where the toad represents good fortune (among others) Li Tieguai - ill-tempered but benevolent to the poor and sick, walks using a iron crutch and associated with medicine and healing Zhang Guolao - symbol of longevity Now I could be totally wrong on this - especially Zhang Guolao I've been back and forth about. Any help/comments would be appreciated!

Curator of the MET - Markus Sesko - released a curatorial today which explains the concept of mono no aware by using examples. I've asked his permission to reproduce it here and he gracefully agreed - however I would like to stress that people should sign up for these mails at the site of the MET. It's really worthwhile and informative. Broken Tiles: The Japanese Concept of Impermanence Figure 1 Over the course of time, Japan developed worldviews that permeated native art as aesthetic concepts, many of which are difficult to translate or define in a concise manner. Arguably most well-known in the West is the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, which started to shape culture and art in the late fifteenth century and which is often described as being that of “appreciating beauty that is imperfect/incomplete and of natural simplicity.” Another such concept, however, had emerged much earlier, i.e., in the Heian period (794–1185), and that is the concept of mono no aware (物の哀れ). Figure 2 Mono no aware is deeply rooted in Heian-period literature and is most prominently associated with the classic The Tale of Genji, written in the early eleventh century by noblewoman and lady-in-waiting Murasaki Shikibu (Fig. 2), and highlighted in The Met Asian Art Department’s exhibition of the same name held from March 5 to June 16, 2019. While the phrase translates literally as “an empathy towards things,” it stands more broadly for the awareness of impermanence. Mono no aware comes with melancholic undertones but is not about the mere acceptance of impermanence and transience of life per se. It embraces the certainty that although certain things and even moments are doomed to fade and pass, much of their beauty lies in the fact that they can indeed be witnessed in the first place, most famously so the brief blossoming of cherry blossoms in spring. Figure 3 When it comes to Japanese sword fittings, references to the concept of mono no aware start to appear in the mid-Edo period (1615–1868), when swords had become a critical means of self-expression for Samurai, and their fittings collectibles for persons outside of the Samurai class. Shown in Fig. 1, with additional details in Fig. 3, is a sword guard (tsuba) made by Gotō Ichijō (1791–1876), the last great master of the renowned Gotō School of sword fittings makers. It depicts broken roof tiles scattered over both sides, of which some are inscribed. The tile on the bottom right of the obverse bears the inscription Byakkorō (白虎樓, lit. “White Tiger Watchtower”) which was one of the four guarded entries to the walled Greater Palace inside of the original Imperial Palace of Kyōto and which was repeatedly destroyed by fires, never to be rebuilt again after the early thirteenth century. The tile on the top left of the same side of the tsuba is inscribed Daijōkan (太政官), the Great Council of State, which was the highest body in Japan's premodern Imperial government, but which lost power over the tenth and eleventh centuries. The inscription of the broken tile on the top right of the reverse starts with “Sakyō” (左京), which refers to the areas of central Kyōto east of the Imperial Palace. And the last inscribed tile, located at the bottom left of the reverse, references the Kōrokan (鴻臚館) guest houses for foreign ambassadors, traveling monks, and merchants that existed in Japan during the Heian period and earlier. Thus, through the deliberate use of broken roof tiles, ko-gawara (古瓦) in Japanese, the subject of the tsuba can be understood as an allusion to the old Kyōto at the height of its imperial glory in the sense of mono no aware, which was long gone by the time the sword guard was made, with actual power having been in the hands of the warrior class by many centuries at that point. Figure 4 The motif enjoyed great popularity, and the artist Gotō Ichijō produced several sword guards in this style. For example, as shown in Fig. 4, this daishō pair of tsuba featured in Volume 2 of multi-volume Tagane no Hana (鏨廼花, “Flowers of the Chisel”) published in 1904 by entrepreneur Mitsumura Toshimo (光村利藻, 1877–1955), which centered around his extensive collection of sword fittings. Ichijō was actually born and raised in Kyōto and was trained in other traditional arts, like waka and haiku poetry, as well as in painting. He visited Edo (present-day Tokyo) on several occasions but did not relocate there until the age of sixty when he started an official employment with the Shogunate. We can imagine that Ichijō might have had some mono no aware moments in the “new capital” if you will, yearning for his home, the birthplace and breeding ground of classic Japanese arts. Figure 5 Ichijō’s interpretation of the mono no aware subject via broken tiles was then also adapted by several of his students, e.g., by Araki Tōmei (荒木東明, 1817–1870). A tile on one of his works (Fig. 5), however, references the Shitennō-ji (四天 王寺), a Buddhist temple in Ōsaka, not in Kyōto. Built by order of Prince Shōtoku (聖徳太子, 574–622), the temple was destroyed by fire several times as well over the centuries, hence it carries the very same sentiment as described earlier. Figure 6 One more tsuba from our collection that I would like to introduce on the topic of mono no aware is shown in Fig. 6. Via openwork, it depicts a waterwheel and lively waves, a combination, which refers to the Waterwheels of Yodo (Yodo no Mizuguruma, 淀の水車). Once, two large waterwheels measuring around 48 feet in diameter were operated on the lower course of the Yodo River and transferred water into the castle of the same name and to surrounding farms. When the castle was abandoned at the very end of the sixteenth century and maintenance of the waterwheels became too expensive, the river was allowed to change course in a natural manner and the wheels were left dry. Soon, however, they became a famous scenic attraction, especially when viewed from a nearby bridge and tea pavilion. The scenery also must be understood from the point of view of power changes. Yodo Castle was once captured by the famlous warlord Oda Nobunaga (1534–1582), and then renovated by his assassin Akechi Mitsuhide (明智光秀, 1528–1582). Afterwards, it was expanded by Toyotomi Hideyoshi (豊臣秀吉, 1585–1592), who avenged Nobunaga and succeeded his political powers. When Hideyoshi’s own major castle of Fushimi was completed in 1594, Yodo Castle was abandoned. Fushimi Castle, however, was then itself dismantled in the early seventeenth century on behalf of the new rulers of Japan, the Tokugawa, who in turn had the older Yodo Castle rebuilt at a slightly different location, using material from former Fushimi Castle and incorporating once more a single waterwheel. There the castle remained under different rulers until it was burned down in the turmoil of the Boshin War in 1868. Figure 7 Accordingly, the subject of the tsuba shown in Fig. 6 and in a stencil in Fig. 7 in The Met's collection, highlights the tumultuous era of The Three Unifiers—Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and Tokugawa Ieyasu—in a single design. It so alludes to the fact that no empire, kingdom, or rule has proven immune to impermanence. Thus, works of art such as introduced in this humble article can be a reminder of the fleeting nature of human influence and that governance is one of constant flux and change. Fig. 1: Sword Guard (Tsuba), 19th century. Copper-gold alloy (shakudō), copper-silver alloy (shibuichi), bronze, copper. H. 3 1/4 in. (8.3 cm); W. 3 in. (7.6 cm); thickness 3/16 in. (0.5 cm); Wt. 4.5 oz. (127.6 g). The Howard Mansfield Collection, Gift of Howard Mansfield, 1936 (36.120.23). Photo: Stephen Bluto. Fig. 2: Detail of Portrait-Icon of Murasaki Shikibu (Murasaki Shikibu zu), Tosa Mitsuoki (1617–1691). Hanging scroll; ink and color on silk. Lent by Ishiyamadera Temple (SL.7.2019.19.3). Fig. 3: Detail of Sword Guard (Tsuba) shown in Fig. 1. Fig. 4: Mitsumura, Toshimo. Tagane no Hana, Vol. 2. Kobe, Japan, Ryūdshidō, Ltd., 1904. Department of Arms and Armor Library. Fig. 5: Fukushi, Shigeo. Tōsō, Tōsōgu Shogaku Kyōshitsu, No. 96, Tōken Bijutsu No. 545, pp. 23–24, Nihon Bijutsu Tōken Hozon Kyōkai, May 2002. Courtesy of Nihon Bijutsu Tōken Hozon Kyōkai. Fig. 6: Sword Guard (Tsuba), 19th century. Iron, copper. Diam. 2 3/4 in. (7 cm); thickness 1/4 in. (0.6 cm); Wt. 3.2 oz. (90.7 g). Funds from various donors, 1946 (46.122.145). Photo: Stephen Bluto. Fig. 7: Stencil with Pattern of Flowing Water, Waterwheels and Embankment Baskets, 19th century. Paper reinforced with silk. 20 1/2 x 14 3/4 in. (52.07 x 37.47 cm). Gift of Clarence McKenzie Lewis, 1953 (53.101.37).

Sorry for the bad pic - but am I correct in reading it 政親 - Masachika?

Something a senior collector once told me and stuck was the following: obviously buy what you like, but always try to buy the best quality at the top of your budget. As said before here, your knowledge will grow and your taste will likely become more expensive over time. By stretching your budget you make sure your buy will be thoroughly thought through and because you made that extra effort to buy a better piece, you can enjoy it longer.

Funny you should mention that! I think they actually consider just that in the description - but then decide on it being the flight of waterfowl.

This one in Kishu no Tosogu is described as being the flight of a waterbird. Which ties in nicely with the geese of the OP. Could this be the same design, albeit a lot more stylistic in approach?

I've seen a few tsuba like this - supposedly they were a sort of tsuba samples to show what the texture possibilities were.

I would agree the larger part of this collection is situated at the lower end of the spectrum, we all collect within our own capabilities. But the pictures aren't doing them any favours either! Item 41 - they used the same side twice! There's a few in there I think if you saw them in hand, would look quite different.