A while ago I wrote in my article on the honorary titles of Mondo no Shô Masakiyo (主水正正清) and Shume no Kami Ippei Yasuyo (主馬首一平安代) about the sword forging contest initiated by the eighth Tokugawa-shôgun Yoshimune (徳川吉宗, 1684-1751). As mentioned therein, there were four winners selected, namely apart from Masakiyo and Yasuyo the 4^th generation Nanki Shigekuni (南紀重国) and the Chikuzen smith Nobukuni Shigekane (信国重包). I also wrote that after the contest, the winners were supported by a program of orders and recommendations. But how did this „programm“ look like? To understand this, I want to introduce a concrete and very good example of an order directly from Tokugawa Yoshimune. In picture 1 we see a wakizashi with a nagasa of 58,8 cm (1 shaku 9 sun 4 bu) and a sori of 1,8 cm. It shows an itame mixed with mokume, ji-nie, plentiful of chikei and a midare-utsuri. The hamon is a rather small-dimensioned gunome mixed with chôji with more ups and downs along the monouchi and base than in between where the ha tends to suguha-chô with gunome-ashi. The nioiguchi is rather wide, quite ko-nie-loaden, and shows along the upper half sunagashi. The bôshi is sugu with a bit ko-midare and runs back in a ko-maru-kaeri with hakikake. The tang bears the single leaf of the Tokugawa aoi crest granted to the winners of the contest, and the detailed mei reads: „Chikushû-jû Nobukuni Minamoto Shigekane“ (筑刕住信国源重包) – „Uyauyashiku taimei o hôjite Tôbu ni itari kore o tsukuru“ (恭奉台命至于東武作之) – „Toki Kyôhô kanoto-ushi haru sangatsu“ (旹享保辛丑春三月). Translated: „Made by Nobukuni Minamoto Shigekane from Chikuzen province in the third month, spring, of the year of the ox of the Kyôhô period (1721), in Tôbu (= Edo) by respectfully following the shôgun´s order.“

Picture 1: wakizashi of Nobukuni Shigekane

Particularly striking on this blade are the horimono. We see on the ura side a kurikara-ryû as ukibori relief in a hitsu, and on the omote side the deity Fudô-Myôô, also in a hitsu. And at a Fudô-Myôô horimono on a Shigekane blade, you should prick up your ears. There is namely an interesting entry in the local history „Chikuzen no Kuni zoku-fudoki-furoku“ (筑前国続風土記附録) compiled in the Kansei era (寛政, 1789-1801) on behalf of the local Fukuoka fief (福岡藩) for which Nobukuni Shigekane had worked. The entry goes as follows: „Nobukuni Shigekane, first name Sukezaemon (助左衛門), called himself later Sukeroku Masakane (助六正包), Made in the Kyôhô era on orders of the shôgun Yoshimune at his Hama-goten (浜御殿) residence in Edo copies of the Wakasa-Masamune (若狭正宗) and Fudô-Kuniyuki (不動国行). As a reward, he got the – not hereditary – permission to engrave one leaf of the aoi crest under the habaki area. Due to this honor of the sovereign, his salary by the fief was raised to 15 koku and a support for five persons. This raised him about to the level of a lower ranking samurai.“ And indeed, the meibutsu Fudô-Kuniyuki showed the very same horimono at the base so we are able to can confirm this transmission through this wakizashi.

Let me introduce what we know about the Fudô-Kuniyuki (the sword also appears briefly in my Legends and Stories around the Japanese Sword 2). It was once a heirloom of the Ashikaga family but captured by Matsunaga Hisahide (松永久秀, 1510-1577) in the course of the defeat of the then shôgun Ashikaga Yoshiteru (足利義輝, 1536-1565). Hisahide presented it to Oda Nobunaga when on the occasion of his marching-in in Kyôto. After Nobunaga´s death it came into the possession of Akechi Mitsuhide (明智光秀, 1528-1582) who in turn presented it to his retainer Akechi Hidemitsu (明智秀満, 1536-1582). We know that Hideyoshi was eager to take revenge for Nobunaga´s death in order to come into power and when Hidemitsu realized that he was going to die, he volunatrily handed-over the Fudô-Kuniyuki to Hideyoshi so that the famous sword will not be destroyed. After the Battle of Komaki and Nagakute, Hideyoshi presented the sword to Ieyasu and so it came to be a heirloom of the Tokugawa family. However, it was damaged in the Great Meireki Fire in 1653 and had to be retempered by the 3^rd generation Echizen Yasutsugu (越前康継). The Yasutsugu by the way were quasi the first-choice of the Tokugawa when it came to retemper precious meibutsu. As a sidenote, there exists the transmission that the horimono of Fudô-Myôô in flames caused the destruction of the sword by fire. Or to be more precise, it was rumored that the blade was tired of the peaceful times and committed quasi suicide by surrendering itself to the flames. However, the Tokugawa sold the sword in the early years of the Shôwa era and it was designated as jûyô-bijutsuhin even if it had a saiha. Unfortunately, the Fudô-Kuniyuki is missing since after World War II. All we have are some depictions, like for example in the „Kôtoku-katana-ezu“ (光徳刀絵図, picture 2), which in turn was at least made before the blade was damaged by fire. But as so often the case, we have different measurements in all these sources. The „Kôtoku-katana-ezu“ lists the Fudô-Kuniyuki with a nagasa of 1 shaku 9 sun 1 bu (57,9 cm) whereas the „Kyôhô-meibutsu-chô“ lists it with 1 shaku 9 sun 9 bu (60,3 cm), and a „Kiya-oshigata“ (木屋押形) copy from Kyôhô six (1721) with 1 shaku 9 sun 4 bu (58,8 cm). That means the copy of Shigekane follows ecactly the latter source.

Picture 2: The Fudô-Kuniyuki as depicted in the „Kôtoku-katana-ezu“.

So Shigekane had no chance to see the original hamon of the meibutsu and so he focused merely on copying exactly the bôhi with its tsurebi and of course the horimono (see comparison pictures below). But with some imagination, we can see a similarity of the Shigekane-utsushi and the drawing in the „Kôtoku-katana-ezu“ in terms of the smallish togari protrusions connected by suguha sections in the monouchi area of the omote side. This blade gives us an insight of how sensitive the then sword world was, at least in higher circles. That means Tokugawa Yoshimune and higher ranking daimyô did not just order any old sword from the winners of the contest which was then stored away forever in a locker. Much attention was namely paid to details, everyone was talking about the swords of the „Kyôhô-meibutsu-chô“, and famous swords were taken out of the treasury and handed over to the smiths when they were in Edo so that they were able to study them hands-on. So it was a great honour for Shigekane to work on a copy of the Fudô-Kuniyuki and the details below show how thorough his approach was.

Picture 3: Comparison of the horimono. Please also not how the tsurebi of the ura side ends in the same way a bit lower than the hitsu for the kurikara-ryû.

Picture 4: Comparison of the hi at the kissaki area and the hamon along the monouchi.

Out now as promised, the second supplement to the first two kantei volumes in English. It contains 175 kotô, shintô and shinshintô blades in the classical order, namely kotô-gokaden, kotô other provinces, shintô-centres Kyôto, Ôsaka and Edo, shintô other provinces and shinshintô. The numbering continues with the last blade of the first supplementary volume, i.e. with number 419. So we arrive now at almost 600 blades (594 to be precise) with all volumes so far!

428 pages, A4, paperback, b/w pictures, price: $ 89.00

It can be obtained at Lulu.com via this link.

There is also an eBook available here.

Table of contents

   Some years ago Kondô Hôji (近藤邦治), the president of the Gifu branch of the NBTHK, discovered a transcription of a sword publication published in Bunka three (文化, 1806). Well, the sword publication itself is rather diversified and covers the usual spectrum, and the reference to the second year of Gentoku (元徳, 1330) as time of the publication of the original is highly questionable. It is assumed that this is a typo and that either Genroku (元禄, 1688-1704) or Shôtoku (正徳, 1711-1716) was meant. However, this transcription contains an interesting chapter called „Menuki-ana no shidai“ (目貫穴之次第, about „The Conditions of menuki-ana“), yes menuki-ana, but actually mekugi-ana are meant. The book depicts 15 illustrations of different mekugi-ana which are introduced in the following by adding as far as possible similar mekugi-ana on actual blades.

   The first three pictures describe an arrangement of two or three peg holes one below the other or in a triangle. These arrangements are called „futatsu-momi“ (フタツモミ) and „mitsu-momi“ (ミツモミ) respectively what might best be translated as „twosome rubbing“ and „threesome rubbing“. The text mentions that in this category, just the number is counted and that four aligned menuki are called „yotsu-momi“ (ヨツモミ) and five „itsutsu-momi“ (イツツモミ) and so on. A mitsu-momi in a triangular arrangement is very rare and is mostly restricted to early kotô blades like the one shown below from a tachi of Bungo Yukihira (行平).

The fourth picture is called „urizane“ (ウリサ子, lit. „melon seed“). So here not the arrangement but the shape of the mekug-ana is described. Such a hole is very common and comes by widening an existing mekugi-ana. The picture to the left shows an actual example on a tantô of Tomoyuki (友行).

Picture number five is called „nasu-hisago“ (ナスヒサ子, lit. „eggplant“). Such a mekugi-ana is rather rare and is found, if at all, mostly on kotô-tantô as the example on a blade by Morimitsu (盛光) shows. A nasu-hisago hole is in the same way a widened mekugi-ana as the urizane hole.

Number six is called „tsutsumigane“ (ツゝミカ子) what refers to the shape of a wrapped-up money present (tsutsumigane, 包み金) or the auspicious symbolism of a bag of gold (kanabukoro, 金袋, see b/w picture in the middle). Principally a tsutsumigame describes a hole which was once widened and where the mekugi got loose again. To tighten the peg, the steel was hammered from one side to narrow the hole again, namely to avoid opening a new mekugi-ana. The picture to the right shows an actual tsutsumigane hole on a tachi of Shikkake Norinaga (尻懸則長).

The seventh picture bears the name „kurahone“ (クラホ子), i.e. the frame (hone, 骨) of a wooden saddle (kura, 鞍). It is hard to find actual examples of mekugi-ana which match this depiction but probably one like seen on the tachi of Hisakuni (久国) on the right is meant.

The name of the mekugi-ana in picture eight is again more clear, namely „hyôtan“ (ヒヤウタン, „bottlegourd“). Such a hole is quite often found and the result of two differently sized mekugi-ana opened so close that their merge into each other. The picture on the right shows a hyôtan-mekugi-ana on a wakizashi of Taikei Naotane (大慶直胤).

Number nine is called „yomitori“ (ヨミトリ). The verb „yomitoru“ (読み取る) means „to read (from an instrument for example)“, „to read into“, or „to read (someones) mind“. But because of the transcription in katakana syllables it is unclear if really this verb is meant. Such a mekugi-ana is very hard to find on actual blades and it might be assumed that it was actually a hidden Christian symbol.?

Most collectors are probably familiar with the term in the next, the tenth depiction, which is namely „suhama-gata“ (スハマカタ), i.e. it refers to the suhama (洲浜) element as we know it for example from hitsu-ana on tsuba. Such mekugi-ana are most likely found on wide kotô-era sunnobi-tantô as demonstrated by the blade of Unjû (雲重) shown on the right.

Number eleven and twelve are called „ko-masugata“ (小マスカタ) and „ô-masugata“ (大マスカタ) respectively, i.e. small (ko, 小) and large (ô, 大) square masugata, 枡形). However, it is unclear how it was actually distinguished between „small“ and „large“. Kondô suggests that if the edge of a square mekugi-ana corresponda approximately to the diameter of an average mekugi-ana, it might be called as ko-masugata. If the edge is larger, probably the classification ô-masugata applies. To substantiate this approach, we see at the lower left a tachi of Ôhara Sanemori (大原真守) where the square hole has about the same size as the regular mekugi-ana. At the Taima-tantô (当麻) to the right, the square hole is a hint larger as the regular mekugi-ana. By the way, such a hole is quite archaic and goes back to times when menuki and mekugi formed a unit and where the square hole hindred the ornament from twisting.

Also the name of picture number 13 is familiar as it is called „inome“ (イノメ). It occurs when a mekugi-ana is opened in an overlapping manner right next to an existing mekugi-ana. As example serves a tantô of Hoshô Sadayoshi (保昌貞吉).

The last two depictions of the chapter „Menuki-ana no shidai“ are both called „hangetsu“ (ハンケツ, „half-moon“) whereas the the last one to the right reminds more of a comma-shaped bead (magatama, 勾玉) oder of a tomoe (巴). And the former one seems to be exaggerated as it is hardly possible to stick a mekugi through such an opening. So maybe the last two examples actually don´t show mekugi-ana but shapes which occur through an orikaeshi-mei or gaku-mei (see picture at the lower left on a katana of Kunimune, 国宗), or a semegane softmetal fitting (see picture at the lower right on a katana of Sukesada, 祐定). In this sense it is possible, that the katakana syllables „hanketsu“ actually stand for (半欠) what means „half missing“.

   All those mekugi-ana go back to the necessity of adding a new peg hole or to enlarge or adjust an existing one. That means except maybe number nine with the cross-shape, we are probably not dealing with holes which were consciously opened in suhama or inome shape and the like. In other words, the publication just gathered existing mekugi-ana and gave them names. In earlier times, smiths or other craftsmen were not exactly gentle when it came to adding new holes as they were drilled through signatures and dates without remorse. Today this seems like „wanton destruction“ of important references but back then a new peg hole just marked a new phase in the life of a blade as the owner was at the best a „custodian“ who took the sword temporarily from his predecessor and had to give it away at the end of his life.

   When with the Edo-period and especially with the emergence of the Ôsaka-shintô schools meticulous and elabotate nakago finishes came into fashion and even emphasis was laid on the calligraphic value of a signature, the peg hole could not just be left out and placed randomly. That means many smiths decided where the first and original ubu-ana (生ぶ孔) was positioned, mostly also in relation to the signature. A lateral trend in the attention to peg holes were the so-called „keshô-ana“ (化粧孔, lit. „ornamental holes“). An example of a keshô-ana is the tsubo-ana (坩孔, lit. „pot-shaped hole“) as it was occasionally applied by Kotetsu (虎徹). Some say the tsubo-ana depicts actually the head of a tiger because the first character „Ko“ in Kotetsu means „tiger“. However, the notches at the side had the purpose to hold an eventual semegane, that means the smith decided exactly where the holes on his tang should be and anticipated the necessity of a later new peg hole by providing one with blank notches for whatever softmetal semegane. A more elaborate form born from the tsutsumigane is the so-called „hanamaru“ (花丸, lit. „flower circle“). There are different interpretations of this kind of mekugi-ana with different numbers of petals. Thus also terms like sakura-ana“ (桜孔, „cherry-blossom home“) and „kiku-ana“ (菊孔, „chrysanthemum hole“) exist. Like the tsubo-ana, also the hanamaru is an elaborate anticipating hole added by the smith. The picture below shows to the left two more consciously opened mekugi-ana on blades of Kotetsu. They look like the numerous peg holes on kotô blades but are all ubu.

   In addition, some more mekugi-ana forms should be introduces, namely uncommon forms just called „kawari-ana“ (変わり孔) in general. The flowery names go back to Kondô Hôji.

Left: kaiki-shoku (皆既食), „total solar eclipse“; right: chûya (昼夜), „day and night“

Large semegane on a tantô of Jinsoku (神息) which remind of Yakushi-Nyôrai (薬師如来), the Healing Buddha.

Left: ikken (一献), ikken war a custom to serve a guest to a feast side dishes and three cups of sake; right: aburi-mochi (炙り餅), „frying mochi“

Left: yukidaruma (雪達磨), „snowman“; right: suidô (隧道), „tunnel“

tsuki ni kumo (月に雲), „moon behind clouds“

After five years we had our second NBTHK-EB meeting in Salzburg last Saturday. The subject was „Renowned shinshintô masters“ and in the following I would like to forward a brief outline of my introductory lecture on shinshintô for those unable to attend (and for those interested of course). After that I give you also a brief introduction of the fine blades we were able to see.

For a better understanding of the shinshintô era, we have to start at shintô. We know that with the execption of the Shimabara Rebellion of the years 1637 and 1638, peace had been restored by the Tokugawa all over Japan. Of course swords were still made but by the end of the 17^th century, all the fiefs learned that the peace is a lasting one and by the strict regulations of the bakufu which tried to minimize the chance that certain indiduals are raising larger armies, the demand for swords decreased drastically. At about the same time, i.e. we are in the first decades of the 18^th century, the unsound financial policy of the fiefs in particular and the bakufu in general became apparent. That means even if a daimyô wanted, there was in general just not enough money to hire master smiths and support upcoming talents on a large scale or systematically.

The eighth Tokugawa-shôgun Yoshimune (徳川吉宗, 1684-1751) was unhappy with declining craft of sword forging and ordered in 1719 his elder to get in touch with every fief with an income of more than 10.000 koku so that their best smiths could participate in a forging contest. As we know, the contest took place in 1721 and winners were Mondo no Shô Masakiyo (主水正正清), Ippei Yasuyo (一平安代), the 4^th generation Nanki Shigekuni (南紀重国) and Nobukuni Shigekane (信国重包). Yoshimune´s goal was to breath new life into the then stagnating sword world and indeed, the winners were great master smiths. But with the tense financial situation of the country, the plan was not successful and most of the local smiths and their students and descendants continued to muddle along in a sufficient but not breathtaking niveau.

Another measure of Yoshimune to arouse more interest on swords amongst daimyô was the compilation of the famous „Kyôhô-meibutsu-chô“ (享保名物帳). This was a list with the most famous swords all over Japan and the project forced the local rulers quasi to deal with their old sword collections and sort out the famous pieces so that they could be published in the meibutsu-chô. This list had of course not a direct influence on the craft of sword forging, but an indirect one. Over time namely, treatises on the great masters of the Heian, Kamakura and Nanbokuchô period were written and old sword publications were discussed and reprinted. And with the upcoming new bourgeoisie in the transition from the 17^th to the 18^th century, for the first time something like „sword as a hobby“ was born. That means most were of course not able to afford a meibutsu of have them luxurious blades made, but at least one was able to indulge in books and discuss with others about swords. This trend was accompanied by another sub-trend, namely the rise of wealthy merchants, who were namely in the position to support contemporary smiths and order fine blades from them. And it wasn´t long before new books like the „Shintô-bengi“ (新刀弁疑) were published which introduced contemporary swordsmiths and presented their merits.

The „Shintô-bengi“ praised first and foremost the Ôsaka-shintô smiths and their tôranba, but this is only natural as Sukehiro (助広), Inoue Shinkai (井上真改) and their kinds were still the best the shintô era had produced so far. Thus the contemporary smiths, the book was published in 1777, tried first and foremost to orientate towards their inpretations. But one master was not satisfied with this trend. It was Suishinshi Masahide (水心子正秀) who tried quasi alone by studying old blades and all publications available to reproduce and revive the old forging techniques. His approach, which was supported and continued by his master students like Taikei Naotane (大慶直胤) and Hosokawa Masayoshi (細川正義), is known as fukkotô (復古刀). The focus was especially placed on the good old Bizen and Sôshû traditions but basically all five gokaden were studied and reproduced. However, when Masahide died in 1825, he had not seen himself the swing to the Nanbokuchô-esque shinshintô.

With the bakumatsu era, Japan was in a difficult situation. More and more foreigners appeared at the coasts, the fiefs were bankcrupt and the bakufu was regarded as totaly incompetent. Everyone felt that something was going to happen soon, most likely in combination with fightings. As it is common for such times, the fiefs and atists tried to restore old values and swordsmiths tried to make stout and durable blades for the upcoming fightings. And back then, the Nanbokuchô blades were considered to the best choice for that. So the daimyô were quasi forced to arm and spend money on the employment and training of good swordsmiths. This in turn resulted in a noticeable quantitative but also qualitative increase of fine blades. By the time the bakufu was overthrown by the imperial troops, Japan was again able to present a considerable number of ambitious mastersmiths. As we know, the modernization lead eventually to the ban on swords in 1876. This was such a radical measure that the shinshintô era which started with Suishinshi Masahide is considered to be over with this ban. Emperor Meiji was fortunately a great sword lover and so he tried to save the craft of sword forging, even the demand for newly made swords tended with the ban over night quasi to zero. All this is well known but without Masahide, his master students and the fukkotô movement, the swordsmiths of Japan probably would have continued to work to the end of the feudal era like they did in the 18^th century. In other words, there would not have been a shinshintô and not much to rescue for emperor Meiji when he came to power. Of course swords still would have been made as they played such an important role in Japan, but without the fukkotô movement, probably no one would have been able to reproduce the great kotô works in the way Masahide and his descendants did. And when you take it one step further, the gendai and shinsaku smiths would not be what they were or are respectively without the fukkotô movement.

Now to the blades we appreciated at our meeting. The picture above shows the table and the blades were, from right to left: katana by Tairyûsai Sôkan (泰龍斎宗寛), katana by Shizu Saburô Kaneuji (志津三郎兼氏) presented to see what Kiyomaro was copying, naginata-naoshi-zukuri by Minamoto Kiyomaro (源清麿), tantô by Taikei Naotane (according to Tanobe-sensei a Bizen-utsushi but with Nobukuni elements), wakizashi by Taikei Naotane (Bizen-utsushi), wakizashi by Taikei Naotane (Bizen-utsushi). Quite a bunch of high-quality blades, isn´t it?

Last but not least I want to thank all those participating and a big thank you to those bringing their blades!

With this article, I want to shed some light on the rise and fall of the Bingo smiths, as both aspects are usuall just briefly dealt with in most of the known sword publications. First of all some basics on the province of Bingo itself. As some might now, Bingo was once part of the larger Kibi province (吉備) which was divided into Bizen, Bitchû and Bingo in the late 7^th century. All new provinces took the character „Bi“ from the former Kibi and added „zen“ (前), „chû“ (中) and „go“ (後), i.e. „near“, „middle“ and „far“ respectively, according to their distance from the Kinai heartland. There was a road passing through Kibi (more on that later) called „Kibi no michi“ (吉備道), and as Bingo was later the last of the new provinces on this road, it was also called „Kibi no michi no shiri“ (吉備道後, lit. „the end of the Kibi road“). So if you remove the first and the third character from this name, the characters (備) and (後) remain, and you arrive again at „Bingo“. Before the so-called „goki-shichidô“ (五畿七道) administrative units and highways were established with the Taika Reform in 645 and the subsequent ritsuryô system, there were of course already roads to get from A to B. These ancient roads, or at least the major and official ones, were called „kandô“ (官道, lit. „government road“). One major kandô connected Kyôto with Dazaifu (太宰府) on Kyûshû, the hub of the exchanges between the Yamato court and China and Korea. As Dazaifu was so important for the court, it was strictly controlled and administered, mostly by artistocrats and even members of the imperial family in the higher offices. So there was a lot of coming and going between the Kinai heartland and „the distant capital“ as Dazaifu was often called. The distance is more than 500 km and Bingo province is right half way in between. Therefore some experts assume that the large number of shôen (荘園) in Bingo goes back to the numerous „business travellers“, i.e. aristocrats and clergy, who needed safe places to stay on their way to Dazaifu. Shôen were namely private, tax-free, often autonomous estates or manors granted by the emperor.

And now we come to swordsmiths. The „Kokon-kajimei-hayamidashi“ (古今鍛冶銘早見出) says that Masaie (正家), the ancestor of the Mihara school (三原), was active in Bingo province in the Tenpyô era (天平, 729-749) and further that the later, i.e. late Kamakura-period Masaie of the same name revived the school of his local predecessor. Well, of course there are no works by the Nara-period Masaie extant but at least from the historical context, his existence is possible. We know namely that the workmanship of the late Kamakura-period Masaie, who is today regarded as the actual founder of the Mihara school, shows undeniably strong Yamato features. Thus it is possible, although highly speculative, that the Nara-period Mihara ancestors came once to that area in the retinue of official temple travellers going from Yamato province to Dazaifu and stayed half way in their own shôen manors in Bingo. Maybe the smiths stayed there as Mihara was a logistically favourable location for their craft, that means it was located on a main road and on the Nutagawa (沼田川), along which iron could be transported out of the mountains from the north of Bingo province. As mentioned, this is just speculation but the spreading of the later early Mihara smiths to other places in Bingo at the beginning of the Muromachi period matches with the decline of the shôen system when namely these lands came mostly under the administration of shugo (守護, military governors) and their vassals.

New centres of sword forging in Bingo province were now, apart from Mihara and among others, the Ashida district (葦田), Tomonoura (鞆の浦) and Onomichi (尾道). There they were quite active throughout the entire Muromachi period and schools like Kai-Mihara (貝三原), Kinashi-Mihara (木梨三原) Tomo (鞆), Go´ami (五阿弥) Tatsubō (辰房) or Hokke-Ichijô (法華一乗) emerged. But virtually none of them made it into the shintô era. Only some Bingo smiths are known from early 17^th century whose names allude of kotô-era predecessors. A reason for the lack of shintō smiths from that area might be that most of the daimyō along the San´yōdō were on the side of the defeated at Sekigahara and thus classified by the Tokugawa-bakufu as tozama-daimyô (外様大名). That means they were kept on a short leash by, for example, transferring some of them to remote fiefs with a lower income. In Genna five (元和, 1619), Fukuyama (福山藩), the one and only fief of Bingo province, was founded with an annual income of 11.000 koku. It was given to the faithful Tokugawa-follower Mizuno Katsunari (水野勝成, 1564-1651). As all the heirs of the Mizuno died in infancy towards the end of the 17^th century, the fief became bakufu-owned (= tenryô) from 1698 to 1700 until it was decided that Matsudaira Tadamasa (松平忠雅, 1683-1746) should be the new daimyô. Well, Tadamasa was again transferred, namely in Hôei seven (宝永, 1710) to the Kuwana fief of Ise province. After him, the Fukuyama fief of Bingo province was ruled by the fudai-daimyô family of the Abe (阿部) until the end of the Edo period. But the most important regions of eastern Bingo like, for example, the port city of Onomichi and the town of Mihara had already been turned over to the neighbouring Hiroshima fief when Fukuyama was founded in 1619. Large regions in the north of the province also remained tenryô or entrusted to the control of other fiefs as enclaves. In short, Bingo province was during shintô times only a shadow of its former self in kotô times, at least from the point of view of swordsmiths.

Picture 1: Map of the area ( © 2013, Google, ZENRIN). Kusano-Sengen is where the letter “k” of “Fukuyama” is on the map.

I want to demonstrate the decline of late kotô-era Bingo smiths by an example. We know from extant signed blades that Hokke Ichijô and some other smiths worked in a village called “Kusado” (草土). It is assumed by experts that this Kusado referred to what are nowadays the ruins of Kusado-Sengen (草戸千軒). It was often the case that place names were written with different characters and pronounced differently over the time. So Kusado was also noted as (草津), (草井地) and (草出). The Kusado-Sengen ruins are insofar interesting as they are sometimes referred to as “Japanese Pompeii” or “Pompeii of the East”. A long time the whereabouts of this medieval village was only known from records, for example from the local history “Biyô-rokugun-shi” (備陽六郡志) written by the Fukuyama-retainer Miyahara Naoyuki (宮原直倁, 1702-1776). He writes that “there was once a village called Kusado-Sengen which was destroyed by a flood in Kanbun 13 (寛文, 1673).“ Kusado Sengen was discovered in 1931 when a large quantity of pottery, porcelain and gravestones were discovered while attempting to re-route the Ashida River. Many historians believed that it was the site of Kusado-Sengen. Excavation was not carried out, and the site was buried by a sandbank in the re-routed river. But in 1961, the excavation was started by the Fukuyama Municipal Board of Education and several items dating back to the Kamakura and Muromachi Periods were found, and it became obvious that the site was indeed Kusado-Sengen. Among the items there were also remnants of a bellows, polishing stones, slag and sunnobi-tantô found, so there were obviously swordsmiths working there. But why was Kusado-Sengen given up after a flood? Well, we know from records that there was an earlier major flood of the Ashida river, namely in Genna six (元和, 1620), which even caused a halt in the ongoing construction of Fukuyama Castle. The latter was completed two years later and even had an inlet which led to via the Ashida river to the Seto Inland Sea. So with Fukuyama Castle as new capital of the Fukuyama fief of the same name, Kusado-Sengen lost more and more its importance as commercial port and. And with the second devastating flood in 1673, probably no more efforts were made to reconstruct it.

In picture 2 I want to introduce a blade quasi from the golden age of Kusado-Sengen. It is a wakizashi signed „Bingo no Kuni Kusado Ichijô – Eikyô sannen gogatsu-hi Saneie saku“ (備後国草土一乗・永享三年五月日実家作). It measures 47,3 cm, shows an itame-hada with ji-nie, chikei and a fain utsuri, a hamon in ko-gunome mixed with togariba and ko-midare in nioi-deki with a bit ko-nie and some sunagashi. The bôshi has a kaeri typical for Bingo-mono. According to transmission, Saneie was the son of the 1^st generation Ichijô.

Just want to inform you that I have collected 175 fine blades for my second Kantei supplement. More than 100 of them are already translated. Introduced will be a rare tachi of Shintôgo Kunimitsu, four Chôgi (including the meibutsu “Yagyû-Chôgi”), three Sôshû Fusamune, three Kanemoto, three Muramasa, a Furuya-uchi of Horikawa Kunihiro dated 1586, five Kotetsu, a rare Hanjô wakizashi (student of Hankei), four Ippei Yasuyo, and many more. That means with the previous Kantei books (see links below), we arrive now at a total of 574 blades! Estimated time of publication: End of September (as usual, there will be a German and an English volume).

Kotô-kantei

Shintô & Shinshintô-kantei

Kantei Supplement 1

This time I want to introduce a very famous kôgai of Gotô Yujô (後藤祐乗, 1440-1512), namely the so-called “nuregarasu” (濡烏), which was not always called that way. But one thing at a time. First of all, it is today part of a futatokoromono set with menuki of the same motif which is attributed to the 7^th Gotô-generation Kenjô (後藤顕乗, 1586-1663). Originally, the kôgai belonged to a kind of „triple set“ of kôgai owned by Ashikaga Yoshimasa (足利義政, 1436-1490, r. 1449-1473) for whom Yûjô worked. Basically we have two slightly differing provenances on this triple set, found namely in the work “Gotô-ke jûnana-dai” (後藤家十七代) and the Maeda chronicles “Kichôhin-mokuroku” (貴重品目録). The information quoted in the former goes back to a document called “Higashiyama-dono gyobutsu-soshi Yûjô-horimono no oboe” (東山殿御物祖師祐乗彫物之覚, about “Memories on Carvings of Yûjô, the Ancestor of [making] Things for Lord Higashiyama [i.e. Ashikaga Yoshimasa]”). Therein we read that Yoshimasa was treasuring three kôgai of Yûjô, one with the kuyô crest (九曜) motif, one with kari (雁, wild geese) motif, and one with crows by the water (mizugarasu, 水烏) motif. He did not part with them and after his death, they became hereditary treasures of the Ashikaga-shôgun family. However, the kuyô-kôgai was later given to Oda Akita Jônosuke Nobutada (織田秋田城之介信忠, 1557-1582) – Nobunaga´s son and heir – but destroyed by fire in Ôgaki Castle (大垣城) in Mino province. The 13^th Ashikaga-shôgun Yoshiteru (足利義輝, 1536-1565, r. 1546-1565) placed the kari and the mizugarasu-kôgai in custody at the 4^th Gotô-generation Kôjô (後藤光乗, 1529-1620). The Gotô family in turn sold them for 100 ryô to Akechi Mitsuhide (明智光秀, 1467-1568) who presented them to his lord Oda Nobunaga. Nobunaga in turn gave them as a gift to Hideyoshi and Hideyoshi presented the mizugarasu-kôgai to Katô Kiyomasa (加藤清正, 1561-1611) to reward him for his achievements in battle. The kari-kôgai was left at the Toyotomi family but destroyed when Ôsaka fell in 1615. Being in the possession of Kiyomasa, the mizugarasu-kôgai was for whatever reason renamed to nuregarasu-kôgai (lit. “wet crow”) and eventually presented to Maeda Toshitsune (前田利常, 1594-1658).

The Maeda chronicles “Kichôhin-mokuroku” however say that all three kôgai in question were passed down within Yûjô´s successors and not within the Ashikaga family and that Gotô Kôjô sold them all to Akechi Mitsuhide. Mitsuhide in turn presented all three to Nobunaga who in turn presented the kuyô and the mizugarasu-kôgai to Hideyoshi. This document says that it was the kari-kôgai which was destroyed in Ôgaki Castle and the kuyô-kôgai which was destroyed at the fall of Ôsaka. And further we read that Hideyoshi did present the mizugarasu-kôgai to Katô Kiyomasa but that it went from him back to the Gotô family which eventually sold it to Maeda Toshitsune.

Picture 1: nuregarasu no zu futatokoromono (濡烏の図二所物), mumei, attributed to Gotô Yûjô, the matching menuki are attributed to Kenjô

It is also speculated that Nobunaga, who had a fondness for tea utensils, paintings and famous masterworks from all over the country, displayed a certain wish to own the famous three Yûjô-kôgai handed down within the Gotô family and that Akechi Mitsuhide, trying to fullfil this, eventually “convinced” Kôjô by offering the incredible sum of 100 ryô. Anyway, it is hard to say which of the transmission is correct as just the nuregarasu-kôgai is extant which is today preserved in the Maeda Ikutokukai (前田育徳会), the foundation established in 1926 for the management and preservation of the cultural heritage of the Maeda clan. As mentioned, it is assumed that the matching menuki are a work of Kenjô and further that the kôgai came into the possessions of the Maeda at Kenjô´s time as he and his cousin Kakujô (後藤覚乗, 1589-1656) worked on a biennial basis alternating between Kyōto, for the bakufu, and Kanazawa (金沢) for the Maeda, receiving a salary from the latter of 150 koku. There are namely many examples known where single famous pieces were completed by later Gotô masters to futatokoro or mitokoromono sets.

That means the nuregarasu-kôgai has passed through the hands of all the key figures of Momoyama and early Edo Japan. What a history-charged piece!

Picture 2 (from left to right): Gotô Yûjô, Ashikaga Yoshimasa, Oda Nobutada, Ashikaga Yoshiteru

Picture 3 (from left to right): Akechi Mitsuhide, Oda Nobunaga, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, Katô Kiyomasa, Maeda Toshitsune

This time I want to sare some thoughts on utsuri. At the end of one of our last sword meetings we had a brief discussion on utsuri in the course of which the most common approaches in explaining this effect were touched. In this article, I want to forward these approaches and expand them by what I was able to find in other sources. To begin with, we all know that utsuri is a synonym for kotô Bizen swords. The common knowledge is also that utsuri „disappeared“ at the end of the kotô period and had to be „rediscovered“ by shintô, shinshintô and even by shinsakutô smiths. Well, to a certain extant, all this is kind of true. Also we know that utsuri is not a superficial thing as it remains even if a blade is polished multiple times. That means it must have a certain depth. Kapp says on p. 91 in his „The Craft of the Japanese Sword“ that „utsuri shows no evidence of containing any martensite“ and this line is what is mostly discussed and opposed when we are talking about utsuri at our sword meetings. Kapp mentions further: „The sides, where utsuri appears, are heated to 750-760°C – at this temperature, the steel is in a transitional phase from pearlite to austenite; it is presumed that utsuri is related to the complex ferrite and pearlite microstructure that obtains in this area, although close scientific analysis has yet to be done.“ Another important note in this section which must not be overlooked is: „Temperature produces other effects as well, depending on the structure of the steel. We have seen how the smith can combine blocks of varying carbon contents before finish forging. Higher carbon layers will produce more martensite steel upon quenching.“ That means not all hardened areas we see on the finished and polished blade are necessarily a result of just how the clay coat is applied. A steel with a carbon content of less than 0,5 % for example does not turn entirely into martensite when hardened. And has the steel a carbon content of less than 0,2 %, it can´t be hardened at all. The kawagane, i.e. the steel on which the utsuri appears, lies between these limitations. Apart from the carbon content, temperature is another factor which defines the resulting metallic structure after the hardening process. Is the temperature to which the blade is heated before quenching too high or too low, too much or not enough martensite is created respectively (depending as mentioned also on the carbon content of the steel). This also explains nie-utsuri, an utsuri consisting of nie particles. So for creating nie-utsuri, the kawagane has to have a high enough carbon content to produce enough martensite, i.e. nie clusters in the ji.

The appearance and lack of nie-utsuri matches also with Bizen-utsuri. That means except some early Ko-Bizen works, Bizen blades usually do not feature nie-utsuri as they are hardened in nioi-deki and feature a kawagane with a lower carbon content. This lower carbon content is usually reflected in desctiptions of polishers that the Bizen steel is „relative soft“. And with this softness, we arrive at the purpose of applying utsuri. Many experts and swordsmiths assume that it was exactly this „softness“ of the Bizen steel that required an additional treatment. Everone knows that if the steel of a blade is too hard, the sword becomes brittle and if the steel it is too soft, the blade is prone to bend. That means adding utsuri, i.e. hard but not too hard areas of steel along the ji, provides a certain torsional rigidity. But it also has to be mentioned that polishers report of Bizen blades with utsuri which were once bent but straightened. So utsuri does not reduce the risk of bending to zero. Nagayama explains utsuri in his „The Connoisseur´s Book of Japanese Swords“ on page 86 as: „The purpose seems to have been to improve the sword´s flexibility to prevent breakage during use. Usually made of steel that is softer than the rest of the blade´s surface.“ So he addresses the same challenge from the other side, i.e. not making a soft steel more rigid but a brittle blade more flexible.

The sword polisher Kurashima Hitoshi (倉島一) forwarded his thoughts on utsuri in the Tôken-Bijutsu No 470 (March 1996). He also brings it in line with steel with lower carbon content whereat he introduces the generic term „namagane“, a not so refined steel with lower carbon content. I.e. he uses namagane as „opposite“ of hagane by not making a distinction between shingane and kawagane. In short, namagane is exactly the aforementioned steel with a carbon content between 0,2 and 0,5%. Well, Kurashima actually does differentiate his namagane, namely by „type A namagane“ and „type B namagane“, terms which correspond virtually to shingane and kawagane respectively. But he goes as far as to say that namagane IS utsuri. That means he assumes that the utsuri we see is the border of the namagane meeting the hagane. In other words, the visible border of the utsuri is created by structures with more martensite than others. According to this approach, a ji with utsuri has basically three degrees of hardness: The „super hard“ ha, the hard antai (暗帯, the dark areas between nioiguchi and border of the utsuri) and the softer rest of the ji which corresponds to the utsuri. So utsuri would be the visible brighter but softer area above the hamon whereas the harder part which adds more torsional rigidity is actually the darker antai directly above the hamon. This again would correspond to Nagayama´s comment „made of steel that is softer than the rest of the blade´s surface.“

Picture 1: The visible effects and steels with different carbon content, according to Kurashima.

Another interesting approach to explain utsuri can be found in the „Kentô-kikigaki“ (見刀聞書) from Tenpô 14 (天保, 1843). Therein we read: „By plunging the heated blade into water, the clay coat contracts. When the blade is now plunged into the water a second time, the now exposed areas cool down faster than the upper areas which are still covered with clay. This produces utsuri.“ I made a sketch (picture 2) to illustrate what the „Kentô-hikigaki“ probably means. According to this approach, also the temperature difference between heated blade and water would not be that high as at the first plunging. Thus not so much martensite is produced and the utsuri area above the hamon would be a „second“, „softer“ hamon. This in turn would match with Edp-period sword publications in which utsuri is circumscribed as „kage-hamon“ (景刃文, lit. „shadow hamon“ or also „second hamon). But on the other hand, this would mean that the dark antai area above the hamon is actually harder than the whitish utsuri area. Apart from that I think that it would be very difficult to produce utsuri that way. That means to coordinate all the factors like the carbon content and desired distribution in the steel and the exact temperature is already difficult enough, i.e. adding also the factor „total control of the clay coat by plunging a heated blade two times into a trough of water“ would make utsuri in my humble opinion merely a product of chance.

Picture 2: Achieving utsuri, according to the „Kentô-kikigaki“

So the most common approach to explain utsuri would be by a case hardening or surface hardening. Here, just the surface is hardened but requires infusing additional carbon into the top layer of the to be hardened steel with a lower carbon content. Thus the deeper steel layers remain soft as it is desired with the kawagane and shingane. For adding the carbon just to the steel surface, traditionally a mixture of ground bone and charcoal or a combination of leather, hooves, salt and urine was used. But the temperature must not be that high and stay under the melting point of the iron, and left at that temperature for a length of time. The longer the temperature is held, the deeper the carbon will diffuse into the surface, whereat a typical depth of case hardening with this method is up to 1.5 mm. That means the adding of such supplements under the clay coat still requires an exact heat treatment. Thus explaining utsuri by case hardening also „solves“ the question why the effect remains to be seen even after repeated polishing. Well, at a considerable loss of material, the utsuri gets of course weak and disappears eventually.

So far so much to say on the subject utsuri from my side and I hope I provided some food for thoughts.

This time I want to introduce a work of the 2^nd Nishigaki generation whose signature attracted my attention. Well, the piece is anyway famous as is one of the only two signed works extant by Nishigaki Kanshirô Nagahisa (西垣勘四郎永久). The other one is the jûyô-bijutsuhin with the tagoto no tsuki motif (田毎の月) which I will introduce later. The tsuba is question is of iron, in marugata, and shows the classical so-called „nagekiri“ (投桐) motif which was introduced by the 1^st generation Nishigaki Kanshirô. The nagekiri represents two branches with leaves fallen off (nage, 投げ) a Paulownia tree (kiri, 桐). Also the names „odorigiri“ (踊桐, lit. „dancing Paulownia branches“) or „nimaigiri“ (二枚桐, lit. „two Paulownia branches“) are known to be in use for this peculiar motif which was by the way also copied by other tsuba artists. The leaf veins and the small buds are delicately accentuated by kebori carvings and now we come to what fascinated me seeing this tsuba recently in one of my books, namely the fact the signature looks like being part of the leaf vein accentuations at a glance. Nagahisa obviously used the same chisel and force for the mei and the kebori elements. That means the signature does not stand out at all when admiring the piece unmounted.

Picture 1: jûyô-tôsôgu, nagekiri-sukashi tsuba, mei  „Nishigaki Kanshirô – Nagahisa“

Before we come to the famous tagoto no tsuki, I want to point out that there was once a third signed tsuba known by Nagahisa, also showing the nagekiri motif. It was once on display at the 1922 exhibition „Senmai-tankai“ (千枚鐔会) but its whereabouts are unfortunately unknown. All that exists is the entry in the exhibition list with an oshigata rubbing (picture 2 right) and a drawing found in Nagaya Shigena´s (長屋重名) „Higo-kinkô-roku“ (肥後金工録) (picture 2 left) published in 1925.

Picture 2: (left) the drawing from the „Higo-kinkô-roku“, (right) the oshigata rubbing

Picture 3: jûyô-bijutsuhin, tsuba, mei „Nishigaki Nagahisa – nanajûsai kore o saku“

Picture 4: both sides of the tagoto no tsuki tsuba

The tagoto no tsuki tsuba is signed „Nishigaki Nagahisa – nanajûsai kore o saku“ (西垣永久・七十歳作之, „made by Nishigaki Nagahisa at the age of 70“). It is of polished brass, in aori-gata, shows two small ko-sukashi and sukidashi carvings. The motif is that of the moon (tsuki, 月) reflecting in each and every (goto, 毎) rice paddy (ta, 田) whereat the flooded paddies are represented via shakudô and copper zôgan and the reflections of the moon and the rice seedlings via kinzôgan, and the narrow wet footpaths between the paddies are accentuated with silver nunome-zôgan. In principle, a nightly tagoto no tsuki scenery can be seen everywhere in Japan but the most famous view was and is the one in Obasute (姨捨) in Nagano Prefecture. And there are signs that Nagahisa actually depicted that very famous scenery, namely in the context with the other side of the tsuba which shows horsetail (tokusa, 木賊). Well, some might think what have horsetails to do with a tagoto scenery, i.e. with the tagoto scenery at Obasute in particular? Interestingly, both – that means Obasute and Tokusa – are Nô plays taking place in Shinano province and which are assumed to back to the famous playwright Zeami Motokiyo (世阿弥元清, 1363-1553). The Obasute play goes back to an old local tradition which can already be found in the 10^th century „Yamato-monogatari“ (大和物語) and the 12^th century „Konjaku-monogatari“ (今昔物語). It is about poor rural families who, unable of feeding, abandon (suteru, 捨てる) their elder members – first and foremost old women (oba, 姨・姥) – in the mountains. In the play, the ghost of such an old abandoned woman appears to travellers, telling them from the tradition.

Picture 5: The tagoto no tsuki scenery at Obasute as seen by Utagawa Hiroshige (歌川広重, 1797-1858)

At the Tokusa Nô play, a priest is helping a lost boy to find back to his home. On their way, they meet some men cutting horsetail and ask them for directions. The men tell them that they are quite close to where they have to go and also don´t miss to tell them that they cut horstail at Mt. Sonohara (園原), an activity which is obviously celebrated in poems and songs since oldest times. The old men amongst the tokusa cutters tells the priest that he himself has lost his boy and when they spend the night at his house, it turns out that the boy found by the priest and the old man are father and son.

Well, the tagoto no tsuki scenery at Obasute is actually at the very northeastern, and Mt. Sonohara at the very southwestern border of Shinano province. But it is nevertheless assumed that Nagahisa alluded to these two famous spots in Shinano. Otherwise picking the two motifs of moons reflecting in rice paddies and horsetail and combining them on a tsuba would be quite a coincidence and would not make much sense at all, although we can´t ask Nagahisa of course what he really thought when making this fine piece. And when we take into consideration the background of the motif combination as described, we have again a highly sophisticated tsuba which offers just by presenting moon reflections in rice paddies and some horsetail a deep insight into Japanese traditions, from old folk tales and local customs over their adaption as Nô play to motifs on sword fittings.

Finally I want to elaborate a bit on Nagahisa´s career. He was born in the 16^th year of Kan´ei 16 (寛永, 1639) when his father, the 1^st generation Nishigaki Kanshirô was 26 years old. Only six years later, the great lord and patron Hosokawa Sansai Tadaoki died and with this the Nishigaki workshop was moved from Yatsushiro (八代) to Kumamoto (熊本), the capital of the fief. He took over the school and family after his father´s death in Genroku six (元禄, 1693), being 54 years old and a mature artist. Before he had experienced firsthand the shift in culture, namely gradually away from the strict Momoyama to the more free Genroku culture, when the so-far rather orthodox and warrior inspired arts developed for the first time a tangible civilian counterpart. Nagahisa´s experience was that as accompanying his lord Hosokawa Tsunatoshi (細川綱利, 1643-1714) to Edo where an apprenticeship under the 7^th Gotô-generation Kenjô (後藤顕乗, 1586-1663) was arranged. When Kenjô died, Nagahisa was only 24 years old and his training was continued by Kenjô´s adopted son Kanjô (寛乗, 1634-1612), the 1^st gen. of the Gotô-Hachirôbei line. It was also Kanjô who granted him the character for “Naga” (永), namely from his civilian name „Mitsunaga“ (光永). That means it is no accident that the 2^nd Nishigaki generation´s works are usually described as being more refined than those of his predecessor. Also he experienced the impact of Yokoya Sômin (横谷宗珉, 1670-1733) and his machibori trend, although we can say that Nagahisa still maintained a strong bond to the initial Higo style. Nagahisa died in the second year of Kyôhô (1717) at the age of 79. So when we assume that he started to work independently after Kenjô´s death, he was at least active as an artist for 54 years, and 24 years as head of the Nishigaki family after his father´s death.