Vogel c. 1822

Curator: Oh, the Rijksmuseum has lent us this woodblock print by Totoya Hokkei, around 1822. It's titled “Vogel,” which simply means "bird" in German. Quite enigmatic. Editor: Enigmatic indeed. I feel instantly transported to some liminal space... almost a dream state. There’s a certain delicacy about the coloring, even ethereal with that ornate lattice. Curator: It is a jewel of Ukiyo-e, capturing fleeting moments of everyday life elevated to art. Notice the detail in the figure’s robe and how it contrasts with the implied space. Hokkei masterfully plays with positive and negative forms. Editor: The figure, with his focused gaze and what looks like a miniature pagoda he’s presenting or studying. He’s almost dwarfed by the fantastic bird soaring overhead! To me, that bird seems not entirely of this world, but some mythical creature escaping into reality. It reminds me of images related to transformation, that moment when the human can almost fly, leaving mundane realities behind. Curator: That reading resonates deeply. Hokkei frequently incorporated themes of transformation. Birds are particularly potent symbols in Japanese culture. It might suggest spiritual ascent, messages carried on the wind... Even enlightenment. I keep wondering though… is that bird looking down at us…or maybe protecting us? Editor: Or is it just a very ornate kite? Ah, this work gives wings to all kinds of interpretations! But the image feels grounded by that careful geometry and architectural forms of the bridge in the foreground. Hokkei contrasts airy fantasy and precise craft to create dynamic tension, maybe a feeling of something fragile holding off darkness. Curator: Maybe you're right, perhaps the lattice suggests the fragility of existence or that the natural order is so tenuously perched upon something entirely artificial, built or at the very least framed in its experience by people. I do know that his use of muted colors…the ochres, faded greens and smoky blues…creates a feeling of poignant remembrance and melancholy that's stuck with me all these years. It hints at stories beyond our reach. Editor: I will carry forward that feeling too; the balance between what is presented and what we feel when something hidden calls us to question. Something special lies just behind the visible. Thank you, Hokkei.