sabiji

It’s not entirely accurate to say that such titles have no significance. I don’t want to dwell on the subject unnecessarily. Especially in highly organized Japan, which remains deeply traditional and conservative in many ways, the worst thing for a Japanese person is to be unaware of the rank and social status of the person they’re communicating with, making it impossible to choose the appropriate behavior and manner of expression. When I think about how incredibly complicated the rules were for drafting a document addressed to specific recipients in Edo-period Japan—and all the things one had to pay attention to—it clearly shows that holding a conferred title had a clear influence on the bearer’s social standing. Even if it only meant bowing 5 centimeters deeper. But I simply don’t know.

Jared, I don’t know. The big problem is that there are very few detailed biographies of swordsmiths. They are craftsmen. Hardly anyone took the trouble to document the stages of their lives. There is virtually no data on the early Shoami artists, despite their immense influence on the development of sword ornamentation. Some Kodogu collectors consider attributions to Ko-Shoami to be rather absurd, since this area has hardly been researched yet. On the other hand, quite a lot is known about the Goto family. However, the Gotos are also of noble descent. In addition, the reputations of some swordsmiths only gained a certain significance in later periods, so that subsequent generations sat down and wrote something about their family trees. Take, for example, the 3rd generation Ujifusa (Bizen no kami). He compiled a family tree of the Seki-Kaji and wrote extensively about his grandfather Wakasa kami and his father Hida kami. Thus, Shodai Ujifusa received the title Wakasa-no-kami a full three days after being appointed Officer of the Left Honor Guard (Saemon-no-jo). He is not mentioned by name, but it is highly likely that Oda Nobunaga was the advocate for this swift appointment. Nobunaga granted Ujifusa tax-exempt land. He became Nobunaga’s vassal and received a substantial income. In return for following Nobunaga to Azuchi (and presenting him with a sword), he received a horse, a silk kimono, and 200 kanmon of silver from Nobunaga. His son (Hida kami) served as a page to Nobunaga’s son, Nobutaka. After Nobutaka’s seppuku, Hida kami was considered a ronin. As the head of the Seki-Zenjo school, the Kanefusa/Ujifusa smiths bore a family name. The moment Ujifusa became not just an employed craftsman but a vassal of Nobunaga, he likely also attained the status of a samurai. And that is probably also the reason why we know a little more about Ujifusa and his career than we do about other swordsmiths of his time. However, the genealogy does not reveal the significance of the conferral of the title Wakasa-kami for Ujifusa. One can only speculate that the allocation of tax-exempt land in Gifu and later in Azuchi, along with the relatively high income that allowed for the employment of additional swordsmiths under Ujifusa’s leadership, served as a prime example of the settlement of artisans in the castle towns of the Momoyama period. Just as it was a prime example of the extraction of important swordsmiths from the hitherto strong alliance of the 7 Seki schools in Mino. A title such as Wakasa kami would, in this case, have guaranteed Ujifusa a certain hierarchical position within a flourishing sword production center in Azuchi. With a title like that, one would be able to move in different circles. Such a title would likely open doors that remained closed to a simple swordsmith. But history turned out differently... I’m only bringing all this up as an example! You can’t apply this to Suketaka. This is an example from a completely different time with completely different circumstances.

Bizen Shoami. The Shoami school has many branches.

One can only speculate about the meaning and purpose of honorary titles among Japanese swordsmiths. On the one hand, one must likely consider each individual case, and on the other, the broader social context. Fundamentally, it must be noted that a swordsmith primarily belongs to the artisan class. The significance of this status varies from the Muromachi period through the Momoyama period to the early, middle, and late Edo periods. The distinction between artisans and merchants was not yet clear-cut, especially in the early period, as artisans were generally organized into za, which, among other things, managed the procurement of raw materials, customer acquisition, and the distribution of finished products. Although the za system continued to exist in the Edo period, the occupational groups defined their activities more precisely. Thus, the swordsmith was officially ranked below a farmer in status, even though his natural proximity to the sword-wielding nobility meant that the swordsmith stood out from the group of artisans in terms of prestige. For swordsmiths of the Edo period who were fortunate enough to be employed by high-ranking patrons, it was certainly also a certain aspiration and norm—at least in theory—to stand on equal footing with the honorary titles of the samurai class. On the other hand, there were definitely prominent swordsmiths in high-ranking positions who did not hold or use honorary titles. There must be reasons for that as well. In any case, by Suketaka’s time, the traditional titles jo, suke, daijo, and kami were no longer necessarily the standard. It became customary to adorn oneself with creative and artistic, but also morally tinged studio and artist names, such as “Suishinshi,” “Chounsai,” etc.

Suketaka is considered one of the major smiths of the early Shinshinto period. However, it is difficult to classify Suketaka as a Shinshinto smith in the strict sense of the Shinshinto period. He copied the Osaka Shinto style, particularly that of Tsuda Sukehiro. Accordingly, he also copied the Shinto Sugata, though his Saki-Haba is always slightly wider, as in the works of Osaka Kanbun. He likewise copied the Osaka Kessho and the cursive style of Tsuda Sukehiro or Sukenao. Shinto-Osaka was extremely popular in the late 18th century. In addition to Suketaka, Suishinshi Masahide, Tegarayama Masashige, Kato Tsunahide, and the young (Kato) Chounsai Tsunatoshi were the primary artists working in this style. Since Suketaka died as early as 1805, he did not fully experience the actual Shinshinto Renaissance, which Sushinshi Masahide essentially initiated, marking a shift away from the rather hard-fired Osaka style—which had been popular until then—toward the Ko-Nie and Nioi-Deki styles of the Bizen-Kamakura masters. Shortly before his death, during his Nagato-Kami phase, he abandoned the cursive signature style. He produced mainly wakizashi. Katana are quite rare and relatively short.

The Samurai Museum Berlin owns a katana attributed to Kinju, on whose tang the katakana “Kusarinawa” is inscribed in silver. This is likely a synonym indicating that the blade cuts with ease, as if through a rotting straw rope.

Jacques, everyone is at a different stage of learning, everyone learns differently, and everyone has their own expectations for their goals. After all, you weren't born an expert. Personally, I can only express my opinion from my own perspective. And even that opinion was different 15 years ago and might be different in 15 years – if I'm still alive then. Personally, I currently only buy literature that mentions Oshigata, if at all. The NBTHK publications accompanying museum exhibitions often contain both: excellent photographs and Oshigata. And that's a good thing. The NBTHK's Shijo Kantei, for example, is also interesting. In recent years, blades with different Oshigata designations have appeared there, even with slight differences in the description and sometimes even minimal variations in dimensions. The differences in the description and Oshigata of the same blade are due to the author's perspective. Or, to put it more clearly: Someone who has studied a particular smith or their school over a long period will depict the oshigata of a specific blade differently than someone who has had little to no contact with that smith. The former will emphasize the swordsmith's character more strongly, while the latter will approach the oshigata more technically. I would argue that the situation of a professional oshigata artist is not unlike that of a first-class polisher. They must decide how best to express the essence of a particular swordsmith's work. Some elements can be highlighted and emphasized, while others are better kept subtle. A good oshigata offers the student significant advantages, as it allows them to focus more easily on specific details than when studying an actual blade, where many factors come into play—such as polishing, lighting, and even their own ability to concentrate, which is not always consistent. With an oshigata , a large portion of the information is naturally filtered out—information that, when studying a real blade, more or less consciously floods the viewer. This can quickly overwhelm beginners. Over time, one learns to temporarily block out certain things and retrieve them when needed. This requires a lot of practice and good eye training. Finally, I can't help but chuckle when I read Jussi's comment about viewing blades in a museum. You can immediately tell who's a "regular" and who's a sword-fighting student. And it's not unusual to be surprised to see someone performing the "sword viewing dance" in front of the display case—someone you wouldn't have expected at all.

It's funny that the yumi are standing upside down. As a former kyudo practitioner (and still a hunting archer), I'm totally relaxed about the fact that the yumi have been fitted with the tsuru (bowstring) on the wrong side. It would hurt my soul to stress an old yumi in order to string a bowstring. You need someone who knows how to string a powerful combat bow. That's quite different from the light training bows. I wouldn't trust an old, dried-out hemp string either. So you would have to make a synthetic string for a presentation. But that brings us to the next and actually most important problem: modern bows with glass or carbon layers in the bow arms can be left strung. But bows made exclusively from natural materials fatigue considerably when strung and, in the worst case, warp to the point of being unusable.

I still have my book from back then in connection with the event and lectures related to the exhibition at the BM. I think that was in the fall of 2004. At that time, you could see some of the newly restored blades at this event. I admit that I basically only remember the Shintogo Kunimitsu. When I buy literature today, it is almost always with meaningful oshigata. However, it is an exhibition catalog in which the blades on display are described and the photos are of relatively good quality. One must not forget how much effort, work, and expense is involved in producing a catalog. In this respect, the catalog is a nice reminder of a special exhibition over 20 years ago, at which (I believe) never again since then have so many blades been presented to the public in a museum outside Japan.

Well, it is a “samurai exhibition.” I'm afraid it will be less about the art of sword smithing of the museum's important blades. Regardless, the success of a presentation of important blades at such an exhibition depends on perfect lighting. If this is not taken into account, even the best blades will remain uninteresting. But an experienced curator will surely know this, or at least experienced curatorial staff. I think. I hope... T

I wouldn't take the dating too seriously. It's more symbolic, meant to bring good luck. Most Sue-Bizen blades were “created” in either the 2nd or 8th month of the year. The number 8 stands for Hachiman, and in Japan, 8 also stands for eternity and infinity.

Piers, it was just a well-intentioned criticism on my part. All detailed explanations about blades were exclusively in Japanese. Usually, the name of the blacksmith was written in Latin letters, often along with the era and school. But the next sign could be 100% in Japanese again. This inconsistency annoyed me. I wouldn't write it if it weren't the case. I was very sad that I could hardly study the museum's signed Kinju. The Japanese description rightly pointed out the extreme rarity of signed works by Kinju. But the Tanto/Ko Waki was so poorly positioned and so high up that even with my height of 1.85 m, I could see very little of the blade's characteristics. Of course, the large number of blades on display is impressive. But it is also too large to fight your way through the collection with full concentration and discipline. It is quite exhausting. Less would be more, and then it would be 100% well presented. In return, there could be more temporary exhibitions. But I am also aware that a lot of work, effort, time, and money goes into it. These are just my thoughts.

The term “Gannen” is commonly used when the new era begins in an existing calendar year. Thus, “Heisei Gannen Ni Gatsu Hi.”

Google Maps and Google Lens are essential survival tools in Japan. Fortunately, I know a little Japanese and can at least read the hiragana transcriptions quite well if I am unfamiliar with the kanji. However, at some point, one gets tired of holding one's smartphone up to every sign. For smaller museums and exhibitions, this is completely understandable. But for a sword museum of this size and prestige, it's very disappointing, especially since it advertises itself as a new tourist hotspot in Nagoya. But then again, Nagoya isn't really on the list of Western tourists. I only saw Japanese and a few Chinese people at the museum that day. It was pretty empty.

I was there on November 4. November 3 (Monday) was Bunka no Hi, a holiday honoring art and culture. Museums are usually open on this day, but I was in Seki. I'm not sure what to think of Token World. The concept behind the presentation of the blades raises questions. Ninety-five percent of the labels are in Japanese, sometimes even 100%. The lighting is like Russian roulette. Some blades can be studied well, others not at all. For some, you need to be 1.85 meters tall or taller, while for others, you shouldn't be taller than 1.30 meters. And what the curators are thinking when they exhibit a blade that can't be seen at all because of the cloth covering the sword stand, or when they put a large sign in front of it, is a complete mystery to me.