Japan: Myths to Manga @ Young V&A

Young V&A

Older readers may remember the Museum of Childhood sited near Bethnal Green tube station out in East London. This has always been part of the Victoria and Albert Museum but in the early 2020s was rebranded ‘the Young V&A’. They’ve cleared the central space with just a café at the far end, and moved  all the exhibits onto galleries overlooking it.

The very open, uncluttered ground floor of Young V&A, just a cafe at the far end (photo by the author)

I remember going to the Childhood Museum decades ago and being disappointed at the array of old dolls in fusty wooded display cases. Nowadays they’ve made a big effort to make as many exhibits as possible interactive, with a build-your-own meccano ball rollerball thing, machines to make patterns in sand and more basic things like tables with pens and paper and stencils (I used one of the stencils to trace a guitar and then draw a silly face on it).

But I’d come to see the ‘Myths to Manga’ exhibition which has been running for almost a year and I’ve kept putting off. For some reason I’d got hung up on the word ‘manga’ and thought it was another manga exhibition which, after the good one at Japan House and the massive one at the British Museum, I was in no special rush to see.

Myths to Manga

But I was wrong. Manga takes up a small, almost imperceptible part of this exhibition. It is more like a review of Japanese myths, legends, folk tales and religion, told through a great miscellany of objects. And, given its location in a children’s museum, I think we can safely assume say that a lot of these objects were not chosen in order to give a dry scholarly overview of the subject, but because they’re FUN!

So, at the interactive end of the show, echoing the emphasis on interactivity in the rest of the museum, there’s a little ‘forest’ area with fake trees and beanbags to lie on and listen to a Japanese folk stories on headphones; there’s an origami table with books on how to do origami and lots and lots of squares of origami paper, and a separate table with paper and pencils and books on how to draw manga characters. And maybe most fun, certainly noisiest, there’s a trio of traditional Taiko drums for small kids to bang the life out of.

Installation view of ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A. Note the drums on white stands in the foreground, and in centre frame, bean bags around a table covered in paper to do manga (photo by the author)

In display cases there are lots of toys, including Pokemon, Doreamon, Sylvanians, Hello Kitty, maneki-neku, all manner of dolls. There’s a stand of small Transformer toys from the 1980s (‘These are no ordinary toy cars!’) next to a more traditional V&A set of life-sized mannekins modelling the designs of Coco Pink Princess.

Installation view of ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A showing street fashion designs by Coco Pink Princess (Photo by the author)

There are games and models based on a number of traditional Japanese characters or types of spirit or demons, such as this one about the Yōkai, shapeshifting supernatural beings that include spirits, creatures and demons.

Yokusai display case in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A (Photo by the author)

At the big end of the spectrum there are painted screens and decorated kimonos. At the tiny end of the spectrum there are a number of absolutely exquisite netsuke. There are decorated vases, plates and styled shoes. There’s dolls house furniture from the last century next to the model for a Royal Shakespeare Company production of Studio Ghibli films. And talking of films, there are half a dozen monitors showing clips from recent animé movies.

Still from ‘My Neighbour Totoro’ in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A © 1988 Studio Ghibli

Themes

How is all this arranged and organised? I’m glad you asked. The curators have taken primal aspects of Japanese (and probably any ancient mythology) and arranged all the exhibits under these great big headings. They are:

  • Sky (flying gods, demons and heroes)
  • Sun (the country’s name in Japanese, Nihon, means origin of the sun’, so some flags; in the Shinto religion the most important god is Amaterasu no Okami, goddess of the sun)
  • Stars (in East Asia the stars Vega and Altair are unlucky lovers, the Cowherd and the Weaver Princess who only meet up once a year when their stars align, an event celebrated in the Tanabata festival)

The Seventh Month from the series the Five Festivals, woodblock print, by Utagawa Kunisada (1830s) in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A © Victoria and Albert Museum

  • Moon (moon-viewing festivals called otsukimi; in East Asian mythology the moon is home to a white rabbit who makes mochi cakes for everyone)
  • Sea Below (mermaids and the amabie, the whiskered catfish namazu)
  • Sea Above (14,000 islands, waves, beaches, fishermen)
  • Forest (ancient forests full of legendary creatures like the tanuki raccoon dogs and kitsune foxes and heroes with superhuman powers like Momotarō and Princess Kaguya)
  • City (400 years ago Tokyo was a small fishing village, now it has a population of 14 million)
  • Streets (skyscrapers soaring above Shinto shrines, with old folk stories about the demons which come out at night)
  • Home (a place to display a small number of beautifully designed artefacts)

Each theme is explored through half a dozen or so objects of – as I’ve indicated – very varied size, shape and medium.

Part of the ‘Home’ theme, in installation showing examples of manga, anime, videogames, Pokemon, Gameboys and so on, in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A (photo by the author)

To take an example utterly at random, the ‘Streets’ section includes a poster using traditional woodprint style to depict a woman so absorbed in her smartphone that she’s about to stumble off the platform at a train station. It’s a 2017 warning poster from the Tokyo subway, ‘Please do not use smartphones while walking’. Puts Transport for London’s poster to shame for style.

‘Please do not use smartphones while walking’, 2017 poster in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A © Victoria and Albert Museum

Under each theme there are summaries of traditional Japanese folk stories related to them. These include:

I liked the print of the Seven Gods of Good Fortune, six ugly men and a fair maiden, known for sailing round in a boat. I liked the idea that you should sleep with a picture of the seven gods under your pillow on New Year’s Eve in order to have a lucky year.

I was also very taken with the witch’s shoes. In Shinto, some animals are thought to be messengers of the gods, in particular cockerels and crows. These bird-witched shoes were designed by Masaya Kushino in 2014 using crocodile leather and cockerel feathers.

Bird-witched shoes by Masaya Kushino (2014) in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A (photo by the author)

Modern art

In among the toys and models, plates and kimonos, shoes and dresses, there are a number of contemporary works of art which could have dropped here from a completely different, entirely adult exhibition. These included:

  • a large black and white photo of magical lights in the forest, Hakkoda #2 by Tokihiro Sato
  • a large digital ‘painting’, Tokyo Dizzily Land by Shigetoshi Furutani
  • a large sculpture made from car parts, Double Spiral by Keita Miyazaki

Installation view of the Street section of ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A’, showing (left to right) the smartphone poster, ‘Tokyo Dizzily Land’ by Shigetoshi Furutani and ‘Double Spiral’ by Keita Miyazaki (photo by the author)

Woodblock prints

Lastly, it took a while for me to realise that, in a way, the backbone of the show is provided by a series of beautiful woodblock prints, ranging in date from the 1770s to 1900, but with most of them coming from the 1830s, ’40s and ’50s. These also feel like they come from a different exhibition, a different world, one with far more artistic depth and resonance than the Transformers and Sylvanians. I counted 15 of them, by the following artists:

  • Utagawa Hiroshige (7)
  • Utagawa Hiroshige II (1)
  • Utagawa Kurisada (2)
  • Utagawa Kuniyoshi (1)
  • Totoya Hokkei (1)
  • Ishikawa Toyomasa (1)
  • Katsushika Hokusai (1)
  • Utagawa Sadahide (1)

Yes, this would be the same Katsushika Hokusai who did the famous Wave and it’s here, Under the Wave off Kanagawa from the series ‘Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji’.

But although all of them were interesting and half of them were really good, my favourites were both by Utagawa Hiroshige – Star Festival at Yanagishima (1856) and Moonlight at Ryogoku (1856).

Moonlight at Ryogoku by Utagawa Hiroshige in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A © Victoria and Albert Museum

Summary

If you’ve got small children they might like the interactive stuff, for a bit. If you’re interested to find out a bit about Japanese culture, their beliefs about the sun, moon, sea and so on, and to learn about some traditional folk stories accompanied by related prints and illustrations, games and toys, then it’s interesting enough. But if you’re an art lover then I think you’d go to see the prints, some of which are really beautiful – and also the half dozen or so miraculously small and intricate netsuke. In the example below, each ‘clam’ is the size of a fingernail. Even with my glasses on I couldn’t see the full details of each carving, it’s a miracle an artist ever carved them, so small, so precise and so beautiful.

Netsuke of clam shells with the eight famous views of Omi by Nagamitsu (1800 to 1850) in ‘Japan: Myths to Manga’ at Young V&A © Victoria and Albert Museum (photo by the author)


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Sheer Pleasure: Frank Brangwyn and the Art of Japan @ the William Morris Gallery

Frank Brangwyn

Frank Brangwyn was born to English parents in Bruges in 1867 and spent his childhood there soaking up a stylish continental atmosphere and the feel of his father’s design workshop. In 1874 the Brangwyns moved back to England where young Frank used to skive off school to hang round his father’s London workshop or go sketching at the V&A. In his teens Brangwyn was ‘discovered’ by the artist Arthur Heygate Mackmurdo, who recommended him to the William Morris workshops. Here he proved an outstanding student and developed advanced skills not only in the fine arts but in practical crafts like ceramics, the design of furniture, fabrics and stained glass windows.

As his career went from strength to strength in the 1890s and 1900s, Brangwyn never forgot his debt to Morris or Morris’s basic tenet that art should be for everybody. When he heard that a William Morris Gallery was being set up in Morris’s childhood home, the grand Georgian mansion Water House in Walthamstow in the 1930s, Brangwyn enthusiastically supported the project and donated a sizeable number of works his own oeuvre and from his private collections – with the result that the WMG holds the second largest collection of Brangwyn’s work in England, after the British Museum.

Music (1895) by Frank Brangwyn

Music (1895) by Frank Brangwyn

And which is why the William Morris Gallery in Walthamstow is celebrating the 150th anniversary of Brangwyn’s birth with a small but lovely selection of his works. The curators have chosen to focus on Brangwyn’s lifelong enthusiasm for Japanese art, which comes in about five forms:

1. Brangwyn’s collection of classic Japanese woodprints

Brangwyn himself made a notable collection of the Japanese woodprints which became so fashionable in western Europe from the 1850s onwards. So we have a dozen or so Victorian prints of classic Japanese woodprints, including Mount Fuji by Hokusai, one of the Fifty-three Stations of the Tōkaidō by Hiroshige, a courtesan by Gakutei, a half dozen prints depicting the ‘floating world’ or ukyo-e by Utigara Kumisada, and a couple of ‘pillar prints’, slender portrait size subjects.

Katsushika Hokusai, Simplified View, Tago Beach, [near] Ejiri on the Tokaido Highway (c. 1830–1834)

Simplified View, Tago Beach, [near] Ejiri on the Tokaido Highway by Katsushika Hokusai (c. 1830–1834)

These are priceless, inspiring examples of the delicacy and atmosphere of classic Japanese woodprints.

Pictures of the floating world by Utigara Kumisada

Pictures of the floating world by Utigara Kumisada

2. Woodblock prints

In 1917 Brangwyn collaborated with the Japanese artist Yoshijiro Urushibara on a series of woodblock prints. Brangwyn had already made etchings or watercolours of the subjects and the exhibition goes into some detail on the technicalities of creating one of these woodprints, with a number of preparatory studies showing how they were built up a layer at a time. The results are wonderfully atmospheric, combining Brangwyn’s own strengths as a terrific draughtsman with the spooky delicacy of the Japanese sensibility.

Bruges by night: Frank Brangwyn & Yoshijiro Urushibara

Bruges by night by Frank Brangwyn & Yoshijiro Urushibara

3. Ceramics 

There are several display cases showing a number of ceramics, pots, ashtrays, cups and saucers. I don’t feel qualified to evaluate these, as I have little or no feeling for this kind of thing.

4. Exhibitions

There is a poster for the 1910 Anglo-Japanese Exhibition which ran for 6 months in London and influenced wider taste for all things Japanese. Through his extensive collecting Brangwyn became friends with the Japanese shipping magnate Kojiro Matsukata. Brangwyn was commissioned by Matsukata to design a massive art gallery to be built in Tokyo, to be called The Sheer Pleasure Art Pavilion (hence the title of this exhibition). On display are some of Brangwyn’s detailed architect drawings which make it look vast and sleek in a very Art Deco style. Sadly, Tokyo was hit by an earthquake, followed by an economic crash. Matsukata’s business ran into trouble, the gallery was never built, and his enormous collection was dismantled and sold off.

Courtesan by Yashima Gakutei

Courtesan by Yashima Gakutei

5. His own works

There are three massive oil colours on display, two by Brangwyn – Music (the first image in this blog post, above) was commissioned in 1895 by the Parisian art dealer Siegfried Bing to decorate the exterior of his Galerie L’Art Nouveau in Paris; and The Swans, his 1921 masterpiece. I love the firmness of line and design, as well as the wonderful depiction of spots of daylight through foliage and the brilliantly colourful orange nasturtiums. Strong outlines and bright gaudy dappled colouring.

There’s also a big portrait of Brangwyn himself, painted by his friend James Kerr-Lawson. Note the big Japanese screen behind him. This is also included in the exhibition and is a beautiful work in its own right.

Conclusion

So it’s a smallish show but full of beautiful things, wonderful prints and paintings you would just love to own and hang on your own walls. And after all this mental globetrotting to Tokyo and Paris and so on, it is quite ironic that arguably the most haunting and effective piece in the show is titled Bournemouth by moonlight.

Bournemouth by moonlight (1928) by Yoshijiro Urushibara

Bournemouth, moonlight (1928) by Yoshijiro Urushibara


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