Rainstorm beneath the Summit c. 1834 - 1837

Curator: So striking—almost severe. Is that Mount Fuji? Editor: Indeed. This is "Rainstorm beneath the Summit," a woodblock print made with ink and watercolours dating from about 1834 to 1837, attributed to Hokumyō and currently held at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Curator: The title suggests turmoil, but the mountain's iconic, near-perfect silhouette feels very stoic. The woodblock technique, combined with the simple composition, intensifies the enduring, almost mythic presence of Fuji-san, don’t you think? It resonates with its long-standing sacred status. Editor: Well, what catches my eye is the actual process here. Look at those crisp lines; it tells of meticulous carving. The limited palette points to careful considerations of pigment availability and printing costs as well. This wasn’t just a landscape exercise. The mountain as a commodity, made replicable for the rising merchant classes… Curator: I see your point—though I read more in the enduring power of nature conveyed in it. Even in miniature, which by the way is due to the ‘koban’ size, these inexpensive woodcuts gave anyone the ability to commune with Fuji and with its power as a Shinto deity. Editor: The ‘koban’ size is also a format for popular commercial prints: affordable objects shaped through an evolving economy. Mass consumption changed symbolic power, but what interests me here are the socio-historical roots and material circumstances informing these shifts, and I see that at work even within an image that conveys itself as simple. Curator: True, Ukiyo-e, as a whole, are inseparable from the culture of Edo-period Japan; nonetheless, "Rainstorm beneath the Summit," like many other works from the "Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji," shows that symbols evolve beyond their origin and context to hold multiple meanings across centuries. Editor: Ultimately, examining Hokumyō’s work leads one to a broader conversation of artistic production intertwined with economic, political and technological advancements. And it makes me think about the copies produced today! Curator: For me it points to how the images—particularly potent ones like these—root and reroot themselves in our cultural memory.