For the Japanese, the cherry blossoms that explode for a few days each spring before scattering to the ground are more than just a visual delight. Called sakura, they have profound cultural and even religious significance, I am told, symbolizing the beauty and evanescence of life.
There are online maps that forecast when the brief riot of colour will come to each part of the country, and in Tokyo, where I am now, it was supposed to be this week. People plan vacations to come here for the show, though the timing of our visit was more coincidental.
Unfortunately, cooler-than-usual weather seems to have delayed the blooms. So, when we went to Ueno Park, a favourite place for viewing the cherry trees, people with cameras were wandering around snapping pictures of any tree that showed the merest hint of springing to life.
Luckily, Ueno Park also houses the Tokyo National Museum, which displays art and artefacts going back to the Jomon period of prehistoric Japan. The monkey figure below is an ancient tomb sculpture.
And below is a statue of the Bhuddist god of wisdom, Monju, with a sword that cuts through ignorance—something I’d like to have. It is dated to 1269 and incredibly is made from paper and lacquer (and is the oldest of its kind).
But in anticipation of cherry blossom season, and perhaps to the relief of the crowds in Ueno park searching in vain for the sought-after floral display, the museum excavated from its enormous archives a fantastic variety of cherry-blossom themed art work going back hundreds of years. Below is a screen from the Edo period, roughly the 17th-19th centuries, which is when the cherry trees became more intensively cultivated and art depicting them became more popular.
In many cases the flowers are decorative elements in story-driven images, such as the woodblock below, which is from a series on “immortal poets”.
I found the textiles especially stunning—more interesting than the samurai stuff that gathered the big crowds (and which made taking photographs, even on my iPhone, difficult).
The kimono below was designed for a young, unmarried woman, the text beside it said, and portrays spring flowers on the top and autumn flowers on the bottom, so is designed to be worn all year round.
The textile below was designed as a wrapping for a gift, possibly a wedding gift. Must have been quite a gift to merit this.
The painting below is by the 17th century artist, Kawamata Tsuneyuki, who exclusively portrayed contemporary women (along with cherry blossoms in this instance).
I can’t finish off without some reference to a remarkable illustrated scroll from the Muromachi period (1392-1573). It tells the story of a mouse who marries a human princess. Unfortunately, the marriage breaks down. The curation does not tell us why, but you might imagine several complications to such an arrangement.
After that, the mouse gets together with a cat monk and becomes a monk himself, and the two of them devote themselves to Bhuddism. No word on what became of the princess.
Actually, one more final thing. Later in the day, we came across a precociously blooming cherry tree in a shopping precinct, which had predictably drawn a crowd. The hunger is real.
I wish you would wander to Vancouver, where we are in the middle of Sakura Season with a riot of real cherry blossoms with no dependance on depicted forms. I love your images!
Thanks for the interesting read. Your reference to Monju's sword that cuts through ignorance reminded me of my favourite Japanese dessert - Manju.