Netsuke 根付 Hands On

To appeal to the varied and individual tastes of their owners, netsuke were fashioned into a diverse range of motifs, including animals, food, plants, maps and mythological subjects.

Many netsuke bear popular Japanese iconographies, like this charming example of a chidori (千鳥), a plover bird. As auspicious symbols of longevity and perseverance, chidori are commonly found in Japanese art.

As migratory birds travelling in groups, chidori symbolize—in addition to longevity and perseverance—kinship and resilience. You will notice on the lacquer tea caddy displayed nearby, that by the Edo period, they were increasingly depicted in an abstract style.

Netsuke sometimes reference mythological scenes. Observe here the climactic episode in the legend of Oniwaka, when he plunges his knife into the gill of the giant carp that killed his mother.

Netsuke also come in a variety of styles. The one depicting Oniwaka is an example of a manju-style (饅頭) netsuke, characterized by a flat shape and low-relief carving. Its smoothness served a practical purpose, because it would not catch on or snag the kimono.

Some netsuke are of the katabori (形彫) variety, meaning they are “carved in the round.” This katabori netsuke represents Hotei, one of the seven gods of luck, shown using a puppet to tease a child.

Such intricate katabori netsuke served more than function. It seems likelier to have been handled rather than worn, which indicates that the popularity of netsuke responded more to the tastes of collectors than actual use.

The miniature scale of netsuke presented a unique creative challenge for artists. Just look at the multitude of textures the skilled artist achieved on the surface of this tiny netsuke, just 4.3 cm tall, depicting a karako (唐子), or a child, on a water buffalo.

Look closely at how the highly naturalistic rendering of the buffalo’s coat is achieved by the artist Anrakusai (安楽齋), using a popular technique that involved inlaying the engraved surface with a dark stain.

In the 18th century, many artists began to sign the netsuke they created, thus indicating that these objects signalled their owner’s cultural status. Can you see the artist’s signature on this netsuke of a monkey chewing a bamboo shoot? His name is Rantei (蘭亭), as noted on the base.

More than 2,700 netsuke artists have been identified, some of whom garnered considerable fame, especially among later art collectors. This netsuke is carved by the well-known artist Ohara Mitsuhiro (大原光廣) from Osaka.

Turn this netsuke of the god Hotei around to see Ohara Mitsuhiro’s signature on the back. Mitsuhiro was a renowned netsuke carver from Osaka, an important centre of netsuke production, along with Tokyo and Kyoto.

Ohara Mitsuhiro is celebrated for his minutely detailed carvings of vegetables, people and animals, as you can see in this seal netsuke in the form of a pigeon on a knop.

Artists made netsuke from a variety of materials, the most common being ivory and boxwood. The rat chewing a nut that you see here was carved in ivory, a luxury material that identified its owner as a member of the cultural elite.

Although the most desired type of ivory came from elephants, it was also sourced from other animals. This netsuke of a monkey with bamboo is made from marine ivory, possibly from walrus tusk.

Sometimes, multiple materials were combined to create a single netsuke. This was especially true of animal-shaped netsuke, whose eyes were often rendered with tortoiseshell, hornbill ivory, shell, metal or lacquer.

This netsuke of a hare with loquat fruit combines carved ivory with inlaid black stones for the eyes. Observe how the glossy black stone contrasts against the matte white ivory, imbuing the piece with a sense of naturalism and animacy.

Although ivory was a popular choice for netsuke, it is not a material conventionally found in Japanese art. It was first imported to Japan in the 17th century via China, which had a more established ivory-carving tradition.

Religious ivories of southern China were popular among western consumers beginning in the 16th century. Ivory was also admired by the Chinese literati, who used it to make luxury items, such as this elegantly carved armrest.

In addition to the interest Japanese netsuke carvers took in materials from China, they were also influenced by the imagery in its drawing books. Examples like this netsuke depicting a shishi (石獅), or lion, with a gong called a mokugyo (木魚), replicate popular Chinese subjects.

The guardian lion known as shishi is a popular motif in Japanese art, as you can see on this kōgō, or incense box, from the Edo Period. Can you spot other examples of shishi nearby?

When Japan opened its ports to foreign trade in 1854, access to western culture grew. Many Japanese men came to adopt European fashions in place of the traditional kimono, rendering netsuke less necessary for everyday dress.

Greater contact between Japan and the West also created a new market for netsuke. European collectors were so taken with the charming objects that their demand for them sustained the production of netsuke in Japan throughout the 19th century.

The enthusiasm for netsuke was also stimulated by the literary and artistic movement in 19th-century Europe known as Japonisme, which was deeply influenced by and infatuated with Japanese culture.

The widespread interest in Japanese art was largely incited by Japan’s inaugural participation in the Exposition universelle of 1867 in Paris. You will see in this photograph the Japanese pavilion, in which western consumers would have been able to view art objects brought from Japan.

Access to Japanese prints provided French painters like James Tissot fresh ideas on how to represent the world around them. Tissot was one of the many modern artists who collected Japanese woodblock prints known as ukiyo-e.

Note the stylistic similarities between James Tissot’s October and Utagawa Kunisada’s Courtesan Wakamurasaki on the Way to the Miura-ya Tea House: the shallow perspective, the bold outlines, the prevalence of natural imagery.

Beyond stylistic influences, some western artists directly appropriated elements from Japanese art into their designs, including Art Nouveau ceramicist Clément Massier, whose glazed stoneware prominently pictures a view of Mount Fuji.

Mount Fuji was a popular subject in Japanese ukiyo-e prints. You can see here that Utagawa Hiroshige has given the iconic mountain a prominent position in the landscape.

The diminutive scale and tactile qualities of netsuke appealed to collectors under the spell of Japonisme, who could hold a tiny piece of Japan in the palm of their hands, almost like you now. In many respects, these collectors would have seen netsuke more as miniature sculptural pieces rather than the utilitarian objects they were at their origin.

Yet unlike traditional European statuary, katabori netsuke are carved entirely in the round, from top to bottom. You can see this on the underside of this netsuke, in the intricate details of the tentacles and pads of the fisherman’s feet.

Netsuke carved entirely in the round gives them a tactile allure that appeals to the sense of touch and the desire to feel all sides of the tiny figures. Many netsuke bear traces of just how much they have been handled.

Can you see just how worn the nare, or patina, has become on this netsuke of a monkey with a gourd? It results from the years of use and handling by the netsuke’s previous owners.

Given that firsthand experience was an essential component of scientific and cultural knowledge in the western worldview, the ability to touch and feel tiny netsuke was a way for collectors to intimately experience Japan from their own faraway lands.

The owner of this netsuke representing a map of Japan could, in a sense, contain the entire nation in the palm of their hand.

Collecting “exotic” art was a popular pastime among wealthy Europeans, who, by amassing artifacts from around the world, asserted their social status and connoisseurship.

As interesting objects with artistic merit, netsuke were particularly appealing to foreign collectors. Their small scale made them easy to export, even in great numbers, and by the 19th century, they were rarely sold individually by dealers, who instead offered collections. Here you see pieces from the famous collection of Louis Gonse, one of the first European experts on Japanese art.

Members of Montreal’s elite were no strangers to the wave of Japonisme. Sir William Van Horne, whose personal library you see here, was among the city’s most prominent collectors of Japanese art.

Sir William Van Horne’s interest in Asian art began with Japanese ceramics, which were considered highly exotic at the time. His familiarity with the objects he collected was so deep the he reportedly claimed he could recognize each of his chaire, or tea caddies, just by how they felt in his hands.

Sir William Van Horne’s collection of Japanese teaware is now housed in the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, and part of it is on display. Collections such as his, born of tastes and influences of their time, eventually became foundational components of museums established in the 19th century.

The western infatuation with netsuke was shaped by the same historical forces, setting them off on a remarkable journey from humble fashionable accessory to sought-after collectable art object.