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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The Beardsley Generation @ the Heath Robinson Museum

This small but entrancing exhibition explores the impact that a radical new photographic means of reproduction (process engraving) had on the art of illustration at the end of the 19th century.

Through 50 or so drawings and 20 or so illustrated books and magazines, the exhibition brings together a treasure trove of images from what many consider the golden age of illustration which lasted from around 1890 to the early 1900s.

The Pilgrim stretched both of his hands up towards Heaven by Charles Robinson (1900)

The Pilgrim stretched both of his hands up towards Heaven by Charles Robinson (1900)

Informative

As always the exhibition is in just the one room at the Heath Robinson Museum and looks small, but there are now fewer than 20 wall panels, some quite lengthy and packed with technical, historical and biographical information, so that reading all of them almost feels like reading a small book.

A brief history of Victorian illustration techniques

In the early Victorian era, book illustrations were mostly produced from steel engravings. Artists such as George Cruikshank (some of whose prints I was looking at earlier this week, in the Guildhall Art Gallery) and Hablot Browne were expert at etching on steel. However the process was expensive, requiring the illustrations to be printed on different paper separate from the text and then bound in with the rest of the book.

By the 1850s publishers preferred to use wood engravings, with the result that master wood-engravers developed large workshops which employed many engravers. The artist presented his picture on paper or on a whitened woodblock and would hand it over to the skilled engraver. The engraver then converted the picture into a woodcut, carving away the areas that were to appear white on the final print, leaving the raised lines which would take the ink, be applied to paper, and produce the print.

Thus the engraver played a major role in interpreting the artist’s work, sketch or intention, often superimposing his own character and style on the image.

Still, it did mean you could make illustrations without having to be a skilled etcher and among the first artists to take advantage of the new medium were the pre-Raphaelites, led by Dante Gabriel Rossetti and John Everett Millais.

They were followed by a second school of artists, sometimes called the ‘Idyllic School’, which included G.J. Pinwell and Arthur Boyd Houghton, who infused their essentially realistic works with intensity and emotion.

Job's Comforters by Arthur Boyd Houghton (c.1865)

Job’s Comforters by Arthur Boyd Houghton (c.1865)

There followed in the 1870s and ’80s what the curators call ‘a period of dull realism’ which is not dwelt on. It was at the end of the 1880s that the technical innovation which the exhibition is concerned with came in, and transformed the look of British illustrations.

Process engraving

In the late 1880s process engraving replaced wood engraving. An artist’s drawing was transferred to a sheet of zinc so that areas to be printed in black were given an acid-resistant coating and white areas left exposed. The plate was then dipped in acid so that the white areas were eaten away. The plate was then attached to a block of wood which could be inserted into the block holding the type, so that illustration and text were generated together by the same printing process.

This new process required that the artist’s image be in pure blacks and whites without the kind of fine lines which had flourished in etching on steel or in wood engraving. Moreover, the artist could be confident that the line he drew would be exactly what would be presented to the reader, without the involvement of a wood engraver to enhance or (possibly) detract from it.

At a stroke, the older generation of artists who had relied on master wood-engravers to work up their rough sketches for publication was swept away and replaced by a new young generation of penmen who relished the clarity of line and space encouraged by the new technique.

The most dramatic proponent of the new look, who exploded onto the art scene like a small atom bomb, was Aubrey Beardsley (b.1872)

How La Beale Isoud Wrote to Sir Tristram from the Morte d'Arthur by Aubrey Beardsley (1892)

How La Beale Isoud Wrote to Sir Tristram from the Morte d’Arthur by Aubrey Beardsley (1892)

Beardsley was an illustrator of genius who had created an entirely new and personal visual world by the incredibly young age of 20. There are four prints and two drawings by him here, plus three book covers and books laid open to show his illustrations in situ. What a genius.

Having explained this major new development in print technology, the exhibition also explains several other influences which were swirling round at the time and contributed to the development of the ‘new look’. These included:

  • Japanese art
  • European Symbolism
  • Venetian and Renaissance art
  • with a dash of Dürer thrown in

Japanese

After the Harris Treaty of 1858 reopened trade links between the West and Japan, one of the many consequences was a flood onto the Western art market of Japanese woodblock prints.

Known in Japan as ukiyo-e or ‘pictures of the floating world’, the Japanese style was notable for not using perspective to add depth, or light and shade to create a sense of volume and space in the images. Instead the Japanese used ‘dramatic boundary lines’, i.e. clear, distinct, black lines – to create images – and then used colour, again not to create depth, but decoratively, filling in the shapes created by the lines with plain washes.

Japanese art had a profound influence on Western artists at a time when they were looking for ways to revive what had become tired traditions and to combat the rising challenge of photography.

Setting a Japanese print (in this case Nakamura Shikan II as Benkai by Utagawa Kunisada) next to the works by Beardsley allows you to immediately see the liberating impact that the Japanese habit of stylising the image has had for the European – allowing him to abandon almost all conventions of perspective and depth.

Actor Nakamura Utaemon Iii As Mitsugi’s Aunt Omine by Utagawa Kunisada (1814)

Beardsley’s best images float in an indeterminate space, bounded by extremely precise and clear lines which give his best images a wonderful clarity and dynamism. But Beardsley wasn’t alone. A greater or lesser element of simplification and stylisation characterises most of the artists working in the ‘new look’.

The last fancy of the contemporary buck for Pall Mall magazine by Edmund J. Sullivan (1900)

The last fancy of the contemporary buck for Pall Mall magazine by Edmund J. Sullivan (1900)

Symbolism

Symbolism was an art movement which swept northern Europe in the 1880s and, although its techniques remained largely realistic, in some case hyper-realistic, it applied these approaches to subject matter which was infused with obscure and semi-religious feelings.

Symbolism took images of death, yearning, loss and mystery, and showed them, no longer in the bright light of nineteenth century rationalism and optimism, but brooded over by a more modern sensibility and psychology. A drawing of Salomé by Gustave Moreau is used to exemplify the Symbolist effect.

Its influence can be seen in an illustration like this one by Charles Ricketts, which takes the well-worn subject of Oedipus and the Sphinx but drenches it in arcane symbolism – inexplicable figures and flowers adding to the sensual, erotic yet mysterious atmosphere.

Oedipus and the Sphinx (1891) by Charles Ricketts

Oedipus and the Sphinx (1891) by Charles Ricketts

Hypnerotomachia Poliphili

The exhibition lists and explores other influences including the impact of a classic printed book from Venice titled Hypnerotomachia Poliphili or The Strife of Love in a Dream, published by Albertus Manutius in 1499, and regarded as a masterpiece of typography and design by collectors.

A Garden Scene from 'Hypnerotomachia Poliphili' attributed to Francesco Colonna (c.1499)

A Garden Scene from ‘Hypnerotomachia Poliphili’ attributed to Francesco Colonna (c.1499)

Copies of Hypnerotomachia Poliphili became available in England in 1888 and influenced Edward Burne-Jones, Walter Crane, Charles Ricketts, Aubrey Beardsley and Robert Anning Bell.

List of artists in the exhibitions

The exhibition includes works by all of those illustrators and more. I counted:

  • Aubrey Beardsley – 4 prints, 2 drawings and three book and magazine covers or pages
  • Alice B. Woodward – 2 drawings
  • Louis Fairfax Muckley – 1
  • Herbert Granville Fell – 2 drawings and a watercolour
  • Alfred Garth Jones – 2
  • Thomas Sturge Moore – 1
  • Laurence Housman – 5
  • Charles de Sousy Ricketts – 2
  • Paul Vincent Woodroffe – 1
  • H.A. Eves – 1
  • Harold Edward Hughes Nelson – 1
  • Byam Shaw – 1
  • Edgar Wilson – 1
  • Cyril Goldie – 1
  • Henry Ospovat – 1
  • Robert Anning Bell – 2
  • Philip Connard – 1
  • Jessie Marion King – 3
  • James Joshua Guthrie – 2
  • Edmund Joseph Sullivan – 2
  • Charles Robinson – 3
  • William Heath Robinson – 3
  • Arthur Boyd Houghton – 1
  • Walter Crane – 1

Books on display

  • Le Morte d’Arthur illustrated by Beardsley
  • Midsummer Night’s Dream ill. by Robert Anning Bell
  • The Kelmscott Chaucer ill. by Burne-Jones
  • Poems of Edgar Allen Poe ill. by William Heath Robinson
  • Poems of John Keats ill. by Robert Anning Bell
  • Poems of John Milton ill. by Garth Jones
  • The Faerie Queene ill. by Walter Crane
  • plus illustrated versions of Shakespeare’s Sonnets, the Book of Job, the Yellow Book, and more

All the works were worth looking at closely, studying and mulling in order to enjoy the play of line and form. Many of the prints are wonderfully drawn and warmly evocative. Every one is accompanied by a wall label, and the twelve or so most important artists merit bigger wall labels which give you their full biography along with influences and major works to set them in context.

These biographical notes help you to make connections between different artists linked by having a common publisher, or working on a common publication or magazine, or who knew each other and encouraged, helped or shared ideas. The exhibition really does give you a sense of an entire generation excitedly inventing a whole new style of art.

Nostalgia

I think at least in part I respond so warmly to so many of the images is because, as a boy growing up in the 1960s, lots of the old books in my local library and the children’s books which my parents bought for me, contained just this kind of late-Victorian / Edwardian illustrations.

Looking at almost any of them creates a warm bath of half-forgotten memories of curling up in a corner and totally immersing myself in thrilling stories of Greek heroes and mermaids and pirates and pilgrims.

Tailpiece by Edgar Wilson (date unknown)

Tailpiece by Edgar Wilson (date unknown)

This is another wonderful, heart-warming and highly informative exhibition from the Heath Robinson Museum.


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