In feudal Japan, which essentially ended at the end of the Edo period in the mid-nineteenth century, ordinary people would not have been allowed to create such an ostentatious show of wedding gifts as started being customary with the onset of  the Meiji period–nor would common folk have had the money to have commissioned such beautifully decorated utilitarian textiles as this one.

Most likely this dates to the early-to-middle part of the 20th century and measures 44″ x 49″ or 112 x 124.5 cm.

The Tsugaru district in the western part of Aomori prefecture is famous for deep snow.  Due to the extreme cold, cotton is hard to grow; and, as cotton that was grown and brought in from the western part of Japan was too expensive, people living in the district were compelled to wear hemp clothes.  The kogin stitch was produced under these conditions.  The white stitches, sewn with valuable cotton thread, are reminiscent of the deep snow of Tsugaru.In referencing the above captioned book to understand this example better, it seems that this kogin is called higashi-kogin, as the design and stitching style comes from areas east of Mt. Iwaki.Generally we see kogin kimono which are constructed from a deep blue indigo dyed hemp and a sashiko stitched bodice, the cotton stitching worked on a hemp base.  This stitched bodice is a separate piece and sleeves, a skirt and collar area are all stitched to this kogin stitched bodice, the sides of which are closed and form the side seams of the garment.In this case, things are not as just described.  A rustic, stencil resist dyed hemp cloth kimono–in this case the hemp cloth is called Nambu katazome–is used for a base, and a kogin bodice is overlayed onto the existing garment and is firmly stitched to the base.  Kogin, as you can imagine, is extremely valuable, so it will be used and reused over time.  Examples showing this kind of re-use and this kind of katazome kimono base are fairly rare.The stitching is done with fairly thick cotton threads and is extremely dense.The kogin stitching dates to the late nineteenth century, the Nambu katazome kimono could be later, and it probably is.  The garment measures 45 1/2″ x 44″ or 115.5 cm x 112 cm.

According to legend (mostly from China), the Hō-ō appears very rarely, and only to mark the beginning of a new era — the birth of a virtuous ruler, for example. In other traditions, the Hō-ō appears only in peaceful and prosperous times (nesting, it is said, in paulownia trees), and hides itself when there is trouble. As the herald of a new age, the Hō-ō descends from heaven to earth to do good deeds, and then it returns to its celestial abode to await a new era. It is both a symbol of peace (when the bird appears) and a symbol of disharmony (when the bird disappears). In China, early artifacts show the Phoenix (female) as intimately associated with the Dragon (male) — the two are portrayed either as mortal enemies or as blissful lovers. When shown together, the two symbolize both conflict and wedded bliss, and are a common design motif even today in many parts of Asia

You can see the careful attention to detail paid by the tsutsugaki artist: he made sure to create gradient tones, a variety of vibrant colors and to use his tsutsu to depict a variety of textures and surfaces with a sure economy of line.The kiri or paulownia is an often-seen motif in Japanese folk textiles, usually depicted in a highly stylized form as can be seen here.  The yogi is stitched from silk.   A yogi is a kimono-shaped duvet that is padded with some kind of fill– in the mid to late nineteenth century cotton batting was often used– and was splayed over a person as they lay sleeping, much in the same was a bedcover would be used.  A yogi was not worn as a garment. This one is large, it measures 75″ x 60″ or 190.5 cm x 152.5 cm and it dates to the Meiji Era (1868 -1912).  Its condition is excellent.

Seen as the messenger of human wishes to the world of the gods, horses were once given to Shinto shrines.  They were eventually replaced by ema (literally “picture horses”). 

For many years ema were presented as offering to heal physical disorders or illness, and they were painted with related symbols: eyes for eye problems, a catfish for skin problems, an octopus for warts, and so on. 

They were also offered when making a wish for success in battle or as thanks for a wish that had been granted.  In recent years their use has come to include wishes for success on tests, in marriage, in childbirth and so on. 

-From “The Forgotten Japanese: Encounters with Rural Life and Folklore,” Miyamoto TsuneichiThese two rustic ema illustrate very well the quote which leads in this post.   Obviously the ema, above, has to do with ailments of the hands, while the one below, has to do with the eyes.  Each probably dates to the mid twentieth century or so.And each is small: the ema depicting hands measures 5 1/4″ x 6″ or 13.25 cm x 15 cm while the ema depicting eyes measures 6 1/2″ x 7″ or 16.5 cm x 17.75 cm.

You can tell by the weathering and wear to each piece that they were hung outside in the elements for some time.

I really love these old, rustic, folk emas: with disembodied human organs set on a stage that is festooned with cloth bunting or crudely rendered heavenly clouds, they are wonderfully surreal.   I have others which I may show over time, if there is interest to see more.