Honderd gezichten op de berg Fuji - deel twee 1835

Editor: Here we have “Honderd gezichten op de berg Fuji - deel twee,” or "One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji, Part Two", by Katsushika Hokusai, from 1835. It appears to be a woodblock printed book. There is a definite tactile sense suggested by the texture of the cover. What's your take on this artwork? Curator: Oh, Hokusai. Just looking at it brings back this memory I have... when I hiked a (much smaller!) mountain during golden hour and watched the sunlight seemingly melt across the landscape. What strikes me immediately about this piece is how the simple book cover—almost austere, isn't it?—contains so much promise. Editor: Promise? In what way? Curator: Promise in that it offers entry to one hundred different artistic viewpoints on one of Japan's most sacred peaks. It’s also kind of charming that the wear and tear are visible; you can tell it was not created to be untouchable but rather a well-loved object. How might the material of the cover impact the artwork’s presentation and purpose? Editor: I suppose it suggests everyday use instead of something purely ornamental, which influences its perceived value. Like the contents of this book would have an impact and change your way of seeing the landscape and society. I now think this speaks to the accessibility of art, that is both thought-provoking and can be casually used for insight. Curator: Absolutely. Thinking about the *ukiyo-e* tradition and its focus on ephemeral beauty, does seeing the effects of time change how we perceive Hokusai's images or this landscape artform in general? I wonder if we, now, consider this beautiful landscape as if was us who loved the artwork and left these little wear marks in the surface, which in turn gives us new meaning to landscapes and objects, isn’t it a delightful thought? Editor: It definitely is, a perfect point to conclude on!