Fuji near Tamaho (green variant) 1936

Editor: We’re looking at "Fuji near Tamaho (green variant)," a woodblock print by Shotei Takahashi, created around 1936. The sheer scale of Mount Fuji against the small village is pretty impressive! What strikes you most about this piece? Curator: What I find particularly fascinating is the context in which these *shin-hanga*, or new print, landscapes were produced. By the 1930s, photography was widespread, so the woodblock print was becoming increasingly nostalgic, almost a fabricated representation of a disappearing, “authentic” Japan. Editor: So it’s not necessarily about accurately depicting a place? Curator: Exactly! Think about how these prints were marketed, primarily to Western tourists seeking an idealized version of Japanese culture. These images became commodities, shaping and reinforcing stereotypical views of Japan. Do you notice anything about the composition that might support this? Editor: Well, there's a clear foreground, middle ground, and background, leading the eye towards Fuji. It feels very composed, like a postcard. Curator: Precisely. And consider the *ukiyo-e* tradition it draws from – "pictures of the floating world." But instead of kabuki actors or courtesans, here, we have a romanticized landscape. The role of landscape as national symbol comes into play here, especially with Fuji—think about what the mountain represented culturally and politically at that time. Editor: So, it's more than just a pretty picture. It’s selling an idea of Japan? Curator: Absolutely! It's participating in a larger cultural narrative, reinforcing existing power dynamics between East and West. Even the "green variant" title is suggestive – which Japan is being painted? Editor: I’ll never look at tourist art the same way again! It’s like uncovering hidden layers of meaning and intent. Curator: Indeed. Art often serves a purpose beyond aesthetics, shaping our understanding of history and culture, and that's definitely at play here.