Iaido dude

Chūhō Sōu (宙宝宗宇, 1759-1838) was the 418th chief priest of Daitokuji Temple in Kyoto. His Buddhist name was Chūhō, his given name was Sou, and he was known as Shogetsu (昇月), which means "Rising Moon." He trained under Sokudo Soki, the 406th bishop of Daitokuji Temple and was a highly revered Japanese Zen master, calligrapher, potter, and tea connoisseur. Chūhō admired and was influenced by his contemporary Jiun Onko. Selecting from unusual subject matter that seems quite typical of Chūhō, he brushes a line that comes from an early Ch'an story of an encounter between Ch'an Master Zhaozhou Congshen (趙州從諗, 778–897) and his disciple Wenyan (文偃) or possibly Wenyuan (文遠), as recorded in Jǐngdé Chuándēng Lù (景德傳燈錄), or "The Transmission of the Lamp" completed in 1004 CE (Volume 10, in the entry for Zhaozhou Congshen). This vast text is a foundational history of the Ch'an lineage and contains biographical entries for countless masters, including Zhaozhou. It is also found in "The Recorded Sayings of Zen Master Joshu" (translated by James Green). One day, the Master Zhaozhou saw his disciple Wenyan bowing to a statue of the Buddha. Zhaozhou walked over and struck him with his staff. Zhaozhou: "What are you doing?" Wenyan: "I am paying homage to the Buddha!" Zhaozhou: "Is the Buddha someone to be paid homage to?" Wenyan: "Paying homage to the Buddha is a good thing (好事) ." Zhaozhou: "好事不如無 (A good thing is not as good as no thing)." The last phrase originates from the 增廣賢文 (Augmented Collection of Wise Sayings), a popular Chinese didactic text from the Ming Dynasty that is based on a Taoist principle of "福禍相依" (fortune and misfortune depend on each other): 庭前生瑞草, 好事不如無 (Tíng qián shēng ruì cǎo, hǎo shì bù rú wú) When auspicious grass grows in front of the court, a good thing is not as good as nothing In Zhaozhou's hands, 好事不如無 becomes "A good thing is not as good as no thing." This is a powerful lesson on non-attachment, a core principle in Zen/Ch'an. The horizontal strokes in the 2nd and 5th characters anchor the contrasting halves that are separated by 不. Non-Attachment: Even the act of doing a "good thing" (like bowing to Buddha or giving charity) can become a spiritual obstacle if you cling to the identity of being a "good person" or if you do it to gain merit. The Master is teaching that the state of "nothing" (無) or "no thing" is higher than the state of doing "good things" with a grasping mind. The Trap of Intent: The teaching warns against performing good deeds with a "seeking" mind—doing them for the sake of reward, merit, or to bolster one's ego as a "good practitioner." Zhaozhou uses this sudden, shocking action (striking Wenyan) to jolt Wenyan out of this conceptual trap Beyond Duality: Where there is "good," there is "bad." The phrase encourages the practitioner to move beyond this dualistic thinking into the true nature of emptiness, where there is no need to cling to the label of "good" or "bad." "No Thing" (無) as True Peace: The phrase "好事不如無" points to a state of "no-thing-ness" or wu shi (無事). This doesn't mean doing nothing, but rather acting without attachment, without a self-conscious focus on the doer or the deed. It is the state of natural, effortless action that flows from an empty and peaceful mind. Signature: Daitokuji Chūhō Sōu Seals: Chūhō, Nichigatsu cho

Etsuzan Dōshū (1629-1709) was born in China as Yueshan Daozong (悅山道宗). He came to Japan in 1657 to study with Mokuan. In 1705, six years after he produced this calligraphy, he became the seventh abbot of Manpukuji temple of the Chinese Obaku sect of Zen buddhism near Kyoto. Regarded as one of the finest of the Obaku calligraphers and respected as Sho no Etsuzan (Etsuzan of calligraphy). Here, he brushes the vertical line 體內貯乾坤 in large characters, which echoes a Zen teaching contained in the koan Case #69 in The Blue-Cliff Records called "Yunmen's Jewel." Master Yunmen Wenyan (c. 864–949) said, "Within heaven and earth, throughout the universe, there is a single jewel, hidden inside the mountain of form." To understand the Taoist influence and the Zen interpretation of this phrase, we must examine both the literal and conceptual meaning1 [Note, this is the first time I am using queries to Deep Seek AI]: 體內 (tǐ nèi): Inside the body, within the body. 貯 (zhù): To store, to hold, to contain. 乾坤 (qián kūn): This is the key term. Literally, it means "Heaven and Earth," "the cosmos," or "the universe." In the I Ching (Book of Changes), Qián is the creative, heavenly force, and Kūn is the receptive, earthly force. Together, they represent the totality of existence, all of reality, the entire dynamic interplay of yin and yang. So, a very literal translation is: "The body contains the universe." While the phrase uses Daoist terminology (乾坤), Zen Buddhism adopts and transforms such ideas to point to its own core insights. The literal meaning is just the starting point. In a Zen context, this phrase points to several profound realizations: 1. The Non-Duality of Self and World Zen teaches that the fundamental assumption that we are a separate "self" inside a body, looking out at an external world, is an illusion. The boundary we draw between "inside" and "outside" is a mental construction. "體內貯乾坤" smashes this boundary. It means that the entire cosmos is not something you are in; it is something you are. The mountains, the rivers, the stars, the sounds, the silence—all of it is your very body. There is no inside and outside, only one unified field of being. 2. The Microcosm as the Macrocosm This is a classic idea in both Eastern thought and, more recently, in Western philosophy (like in William Blake's "To see a world in a grain of sand"). The human body is not a small, isolated object. It is a perfect reflection and embodiment of the entire universe. The same laws of physics, the same elements forged in stars, the same cycles of nature (birth, growth, decay) that govern the cosmos are all happening within your own physical form. You are the universe experiencing itself in a localized way. 3. The Body as a Vessel for Awakening In Zen practice, the body is not disregarded. It is the very vehicle for enlightenment. Through meditation (zazen), we come to realize that our true nature is not limited by the skin. The sensation of the body expands to include the entire universe. The breath is not just air moving in and out of lungs, but the very interchange with the totality of the atmosphere. The body becomes a vessel that "stores" or, more accurately, is the dynamic, living cosmos. In summary, in Zen, "體內貯乾坤" is not a statement of biology or physics, but a declaration of spiritual realization. It points to the awakened experience of non-duality, where the individual body is understood to be inseparable from the totality of existence. It is an invitation to stop seeing yourself as a tiny part of the universe and to realize that the entire universe is your true body. And the true body contains the Buddha-nature. While the exact wording "體內貯乾坤" brushed on Etsuzan's scroll isn't in the existing records of Master Yunmen's teachings, its essence is not only present but is a fundamental pillar of his Zen. It is most clearly articulated through his famous principles: "函蓋乾坤" (the universe is completely enveloped by the true self) and the teaching of the jewel hidden "秘在形山" (within the mountain of the body).2 Signature: Obaku Yueshan sho 黃檗悦山書 Seals: Rinzai shoshu sanju-yon sei (34th generation heir of the transmission of the Linji/Rinzai Sect); Etsuzan; Doshu no in (Doshu's seal, 道宗之印) 1Deep Seek answer to query: "What does 體內貯乾坤 mean in Zen?" 2Deep Seek answer to query: "Does 體內貯乾坤 appear in the writings of Master Yunmen?"

This work sold for $800 on Yahoo Japan. Kogetsu’s work is highly sought after.

This is wonderful and quite profound, Jan. The phrase is what we call a "capping phrase," which is employed by a master to challenge the student in the coarse of koan training. In the Zen context 學人 (Xueren) means a student or practitioner who seeks enlightenment; it is a common way for monks to refer to themselves when asking a master a question. Similarly, 轉身處 (Zhuanshen Chu) is literally a "place of turning the body," but is a crucial Zen concept referring to the point of spiritual transformation or turning point. It is the metaphorical place where a practitioner "turns around" from delusion to enlightenment, or the pivot point in a koan where one must make a leap in understanding. 會麼 (Hui Me) is a common Ch'an expression meaning "Do you understand?" or "Can you grasp it?" Putting it all together, the master intones: 學人轉身處. 會麼口取 "Here is the point where you must turn from ignorance to enlightenment. Do you understand? Now, express that understanding directly, right now!" Ch'an master Dayi, when asked "What is the student's place of turning?" he replied, "In the streets and alleys" (meaning it is everywhere, in everyday life). Right here. Right now. The master is not asking for a philosophical explanation of what "turning" means. Instead, the master is pointing to the present moment and demanding that the student manifest their enlightenment through a word, an action, or a gesture. The "mouth" (口) can be the instrument for that immediate, living expression of truth. However, the moment of breaking through a koan is an experience that occurs before language is formed. It is in fact ineffable. An idea about enlightenment is not enlightenment. Maybe this capping phrase is intended to specifically instruct on how to approach Joshu's Mu koan (無 no, nothing, not one thing), the famous and notoriously difficult-to-penetrate Case #1 of the Mumonkon (The Gateless Gate) koan collection: A monk once Master Joshu, "Has a dog the Buddha Nature or not?" Joshu said "Mu!" When a student responds, the master will know it is a breakthrough if it embodies a deep, personal, and immediate experience that is ultimately transformative. A teacher may ask if what the student has experienced has changed some other aspects of his life. This is because enlightenment is expressed through action (i.e. it is inacted). Does it enhance your capacity for compassion towards family, friends, co-workers, the dog, or the environment? Is your relationship to the world fundamentally altered?

Kogetsu Sogan's Mu

These are two works by a Chinese Obaku monk named Nanyuan Xingpai (Nangen Shoha, 1631-1692) and a Japanese Rinzai monk named Kogetsu Sogan. Nangen's brushwork is in late Ming style partial cursive/running script. Kogetsu's is in standard script. I would guess not difficult to translate, but I can only make out certain characters and can't quite put it together. Thanks for your help. Nangen Shoha

Chuho Sou (宙宝宗宇, 1759-1838) was the 418th chief priest of Daitokuji Temple in Kyoto. His Buddhist name was Chuho, his given name was Sou, and he was known as Shogetsu (昇月), which means "Rising Moon." He trained under Sokudo Soki, the 406th bishop of Daitokuji Temple and was a highly revered Japanese Zen master, calligrapher, potter, and tea connoisseur. Chuho admired and was influenced by his contemporary Jiun Onko. In his usual powerful hand, Chuho has brushed 壺中 (right to left), practically reinventing the first character. This phrase translates most directly as "Inside the Jar" or "In the Pot." However, the meaning runs deeper than the literal translation. In Zen and ancient Chinese lore, 壺中 (kochū) carries the connotation of "a different world within," "a microcosm," or "a reality outside of normal time and space." This meaning comes from the legendary Chinese tale of the "Jar Gourd Heaven" (壶天). In this story, a man follows an immortal into a small gourd and discovers a vast, magical palace inside—a complete world within. Therefore, 壺中 often implies a state of enlightenment where the vast universe is contained in a single object, or where the duality generated by distinctions between inside and outside, large and small, cease to exist. It evokes the Zen principle of "the infinite in the finite." I can't make out these particular seals since there isn't a lot of documentation online. Usually, The MET archive has very good translations and annotation, but it doesn't have any works by Chuho Sou. Signature: Daitokuji Chuho Sou

Thanks so much, Steve. You are absolutely spot on. Turns out that "When poor, one should cultivate one's own virtue; when successful, one should benefit all under heaven," comes from Mencius, Book 7, Part 1, Chapter 9, which reads: "Therefore, a scholar does not lose righteousness in poverty, nor does he stray from the Way in success. When poor, he does not lose righteousness; therefore, a scholar holds possession of himself. Those who achieve success do not stray from the Way, therefore the people are not disappointed. In ancient times, those who were successful brought benefits to the people; those who were unsuccessful cultivated themselves and made their virtues known to the world. When poor, one should cultivate one's own virtue; when successful, one should benefit all under heaven." Yamaoka would have studied Confucian thought, as did all well-educated samurai.

I have been looking at this appealing work by Yamaoka Tesshu, whose calligraphy is consistent, but highly idiosyncratic. The large "One Word Barrier" is "窮 (poverty/poor)", rendered in an almost pictographic form that is rare for Yamaoka, but I cannot make out the rest of the inscription. There is some water damage, but I've never seen such an inscription done by this otherwise prolific artist who often produced many versions of the same theme. Thanks.

Most grateful. I’m generally not a collector of Confucian literati art, but I ended up with 8 scrolls in auction from a collector who clearly was interested in this genre. I was only interested in two of the scrolls brushed by Zen masters. However, this poem chosen by Ryu Kobi is quite lovely.

This is a calligraphy work in kanji that I cannot entirely translate. Even a partial translation will likely allow me to cross-reference with a well-known writing. Thanks. Totoki Shi (1749-1804), called Baigai, was born in Osaka but educated in Edo in the Chinese classics, philosophy, calligraphy and painting, achieving wide recognition as a scholar and literati artist. He was a figure deeply embedded within the intellectual and artistic currents of Edo-period Japan. His artistic expression flowed directly from his erudition. Baigai’s life unfolded against a backdrop of increasing cultural exchange with China, an influence that would profoundly shape his style and subject matter. Though born into a merchant family, his destiny lay not in commerce but in the refined world of art and letters. He received extensive education in Edo (modern-day Tokyo), mastering the intricacies of Chinese literature and painting techniques – skills highly valued amongst Japan’s educated elite. This foundation would become the cornerstone of his artistic identity as a prominent member of the Nanga school, also known as the ‘Southern School,’ a movement that consciously emulated the aesthetics and spirit of classical Chinese art. In Kyoto Baigai studied painting with Minagawa Kien (1734-1807) and Ike Taiga (1723-1776), creating an individual style that was based especially on that of Taiga. The painters shared an interest in creating textured surfaces and in the expressive effects of strong accents, seen here in the strongly varied accents of ink for the bamboo and rocks. It was likely in the company of such masters as Kien and Taiga that Baigai met Matsuyama Sessai (1755-1820), who on one recorded occasion invited a number of people to a large banquet. During the course of the dinner, presumably after drinking and becoming suitable inspired, Baigai entertained the group by singing popular songs, dancing solo, and even performing conjuring tricks. When the assembled guests were asked to contribute to a commemorative work of art, Baigai painted a picture and added a poem that were held by general agreement to be the best of all of the various efforts. In 1784 Lord Sessai asked Baigai to accompany him to his fief at Nagashima in Ise Province, where the versatile artist opened a school for the children of samurai. In 1790 Baigai received permission to visit Nagasaki but, after overstaying his permit for that fascinating port city, Baigai lost his job and returned to Osaka.

This is a 4-line poem that I cannot entirely translate. Even a partial translation will likely allow me to cross-reference with a well-known writing. Thanks. Ryū Kōbi , also known as Tatsu Sōro or Tatsu Kimiyoshi, was a pupil of Ogyū Sorai (1666–1728), a poet and one of the most influential Confucian scholars of the Edo period. Born in Fushimi, Kyoto Prefecture, as Tokinori Takeda, he had many names through his life depending on his position at the time. Most famously called Ryû Sôro, his artist name was Ryū Kōbi. He also went by his azena (formal name) Kungyoku. His common name was Hikojiro, which later changed to Emon. Sôro was his “go” or pen name. A disciple of Meika Uno, Ryū Kōbi founded Shisha, a poetry club in Karasmaru – Koji St. In 1750, he was invited to work as Shinkosha (one who explains achievements to nobility and royalty) to Naosada II, the Lord of Hikone domain. In 1756, he was appointed as Hanju (Confucian scholar who works for a domain) for 18 years before he resigned and returned to Kyoto. His publications include: “Soro shishi (Collection of Anthologies of Soro)”, “Kinran shishu”, “Materials for Poetry of Tang Dynasty”, “Book of Japanese Poetry”, “Summary of Rongo Analects” and “Mosh sha (Book of poetry of ancient China)”.1 1Stephen Addiss, "77 Dances : Japanese Calligraphy by Poets, Monks, and Scholars, 1568-1868"

Yamaoka Tesshu (山岡 鉄舟) was born in Edo June 10, 1836 and died July 19, 1888. As a master swordsman, lay Zen master, and prolific calligrapher/painter, he embodied the integrated practice of Ken Zen Sho. The inscription is the poignant last verse of a quatrain by Xiong Rudeng (熊儒登), a Tang Dynasty official and poet who served in Western Sichuan, called "Presented to Vice Minister Dou at a Banquet at Quchi." The inscription is the poignant last verse of a quatrain by Xiong Rudeng (熊儒登), a scholar-official and poet, called "Presented to Vice Minister Dou at a Banquet at Quchi." He lived around the time of Emperor Xianzong of Tang's Yuanhe era (806-820). After passing the imperial examination, he became a Jinshi (a successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations). He served as an official in the Western Sichuan provincial government and was a close friend of Bai Juyi and Liu Yuxi, frequently exchanging poems. He was a prolific writer, producing many poems, but only one collection has survived to this day. Many of these poems are exchanges of poems, containing numerous beautiful lines. Some of these lines are sincere and moving, and were widely recited in his time. It is easy to understand why this poem would have appealed to Yamaoka's Zen sensibility: 水自山阿繞坐來, 珊瑚台上木綿開。 欲知舉目無情罰, 一片花流酒一杯。 Water flows around the mountainside, and cotton blossoms bloom on the coral terrace. If you wish to know the merciless punishment before your eyes, see a single flower drift down to a cup of wine.

Interestingly, there are two works among the 8 scrolls that are by a father and son pair of Confucian literati scholars, suggesting a purposeful theme in the collecting interest of the previous owner Frank Preiser. Kameda Bōsai (亀田鵬斎; 1752–1826) was a Japanese literati painter (nanga in Japanese). He originally trained as a Confucian scholar, but spent the second half of his life as a literati and artist. The book "Mountains of the Heart" contains many of his most famous paintings. The inscription is in the form of a traditional quatrain of 7 characters per line: "Within the mountains apart from the mountain-top clouds, there is also the pine wind in which to take pleasure; If only I had a tea-whisk to send as a present to you, for elegant rhymes can mislead, as in what was said to the Liang dynasty Emperor" 山中除却嶺上雲, 別有松風可怡悅; 但謂巴鼻特賠君, 清韵讀向梁帝說 The poet T'ao Yuan-Ming (372-427) once wrote to the Liang Emperor Wu: "I have certainly had wide experience, but I am afraid I am not yet skilled..." T'ao then resigned his official post after serving only 83 days in office and spent the rest of his days in creative retirement. Here Bosai paints the pine tree piercing the cloud. The small figure of a scholar stands on the edge of a cliff in this polychrome work. Signature: (Painted and inscribed by old man Bosai) Seals: (Bosai, used 1820-1824), (Kanto dai-ichi futensei, The greatest fool in the Kanto area, used 1818-1823) Kameda Ryorai (亀田綾瀬, 1778-1853) studied under his father Kameda Bōsai, a distinguished Confucian scholar, painter, and calligrapher. The inscription in this large character single line work is an expression of the Confucian Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong), which espouses the natural order of things. The "Mean" represents a balanced, optimal approach to life, avoiding extremes through moral cultivation, sincerity, and finding the right path (Tao) in all situations. 鳶飛魚躍活潑潑地 "Kites fly and fish leap, those on the ground are lively"

Here is the Nakahara Nantenbo that was part of this set of 8 hanging scrolls. Nakahara Nantenbo (1839-1925), whose Buddhist name was Toju Zenchu (Complete Devotion), was in the last 17 years of his life the Exalted Master of the main temple of Moyoshin-ji of the Rinzai sect. A contemporary of the great lay Zen master, swordsman, calligrapher/artist, and statesman Yamaoka Tesshu, whom he met while teaching at the training hall at Sokei-ji in Tokyo and had daily private meetings with, he was a tireless reformer of Zen monastic training and activity, emphasizing strict practice and koan study. This brushwork was done when Nantenbo was 80 years old. A similar one offered by Gallery Friedrich Muller is listed for $1,700. The kanji inscription is the first verse from a famous Chinese couplet often used as a blessing for good fortune: 福如东海长流水, 寿比南山不老松 Fú rú dōnghǎi cháng liúshuǐ, shòu bǐ nánshān bù lǎosōng May good fortune be as boundless and enduring as the flowing waters of the East China Sea, and longevity stand firm like the ageless pines of South Mountain