Kabuki Actor Sawamura Sojurō Iii as Ogishi Kurando 1795

Curator: Toshusai Sharaku's 1795 woodblock print, "Kabuki Actor Sawamura Sojuro III as Ogishi Kurando," is one that always catches my eye. What's your first take? Editor: Immediately, it’s those eyes, wide and almost bug-like! And the stark contrast—the muted background against the fan with those mesmerizing concentric circles. It's a bit unsettling, wouldn’t you say? Curator: Unsettling in a good way, I hope? Sharaku was, shall we say, going for something beyond a flattering likeness. He specialized in actor portraits, ukiyo-e prints specifically, but he wasn't about to prettify anyone. He captured something raw. Editor: Definitely raw, it is an unusual portrait. Ukiyo-e prints often depicted actors, yes, but Sharaku’s approach… the distortion feels deliberate, a critique of the performer or perhaps the very act of performance? We can think of the exaggerations and caricatures of power structures and social roles—this resonates across performative stages, then and now. Curator: You know, I've often wondered if he wasn't just a bit of a rebel. The story goes that he just vanished after about a year. Boom, in, boom, out. And that brief burst? Portraits that, as you say, challenge more than celebrate. What did you make of the clothing and accessories? Editor: The garment, the fan. The emblem on the kimono marks the actor's lineage or role? The fan's design pulls you in… almost hypnotic. Accessories function as semiotic markers, telling us not just *who* is represented but the politics *of* representation. These were complex times with restrictions regarding depictions of wealth and status, which would explain his relatively short career. Curator: Right? And let's not forget the wig, that stark black against the shaved pate! Every element is heightened, distilled. Even the slightly odd hand position with that impossibly slim stick. Is it a pipe, is it a writing brush...? Who knows. Editor: A signifier, of course! The slenderness juxtaposed with his broad face only sharpens his unconventional, but powerful portrayal. Sharaku offers more than mere depiction; he asks questions about authenticity and societal expectations. Curator: Exactly. You almost wonder if you know the man *more* by his imperfections than you would by some smoothed-over idealized image. It’s as though Sharaku wanted to disrupt the smooth performance of identity itself. Editor: So, it is less about a mirror and more about a magnifying glass held up to societal structures. His works pushes us beyond what we see at first glance to broader truths about our selves and the way our society shapes our perceptions.