Small box with country house c. 1920s

Editor: So, here we have a “Small Box with Country House,” dating from the 1920s by Kamisaka Sekka, housed here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. The box seems to be made of wood and tempera, and depicts an idyllic scene, perhaps a house in the countryside, maybe even mountains, simplified and elegantly rendered. It feels so calm, doesn't it? What strikes you about this little landscape? Curator: It whispers secrets, doesn't it? I see a distillation of Japanese aesthetics—simplicity, asymmetry, and that love of nature, all crammed onto a tiny, portable stage. Think about where something like this would have lived. It’s an intimate object, likely held, touched, and perhaps filled with treasured little somethings. Imagine the artisan’s breath held as they carefully placed each tiny iridescent piece…a universe in miniature! What story do you think the artist might be telling? Editor: Well, I’m drawn to how Sekka combines such different materials to create texture. Like the rough mountain contrasted with the sleek lacquer. Could the mountain be symbolic? Maybe something akin to Mount Fuji in Japanese consciousness? Curator: Yes! The mountain resonates deeply within Japanese art. But instead of heroic grandeur, Sekka offers something gentler, domestic, grounded. Maybe the 'country house' element domesticates that symbol, rendering something almost like a personal shrine. The blossoms seem to cradle the image with serenity, life blooming forth despite everything, like a hopeful breath… And this speaks to something universal, don’t you think? Our yearnings for a quiet refuge. It feels meditative. Editor: I do, I see that now, all the textures and techniques point toward meditation and the quietness of that place. It gives such a lovely perspective into Sekka’s mindset and time. Thanks! Curator: My pleasure! It is amazing what stories a box can hold. Both literally and figuratively.