Retiring from the Kabuki Stage 1840

Editor: So, here we have "Retiring from the Kabuki Stage," a print by Chogaku from 1840, housed here at the Art Institute of Chicago. It's quite striking. The division into panels really draws my eye, like looking through a doorway into another world. But, I am a little perplexed… what am I really looking at here? Curator: Ah, doorways to other worlds are always exciting, aren't they? I see this as a kind of visual poem. Chogaku isn't just showing us a scene, but hinting at a deeper story, that dance between reality and performance that Ukiyo-e often captured. Editor: Ukiyo-e, right, the floating world. How does that apply here, though? It feels very grounded, with the figure on the buffalo and the landscape… Curator: The "floating world" wasn’t always about pleasure; it was about embracing the ephemeral nature of life itself. Imagine that kabuki actor – he’s spent years in the spotlight, transforming into countless characters. Now, he’s retreating, perhaps back to the land, to something more "real." It’s almost as if those painted panels become a kind of stage themselves. The top portion kind of alludes to how sets in kabuki could suddenly change, eh? Editor: I never thought about it like that, as if the screen IS a stage. And I see how the actor kind of disappears INTO the painted world itself! So it is not literal landscape art, necessarily? Curator: Not entirely. The landscape provides a counterpoint, a contrast between the artificiality of the stage and the… authenticity of nature. Chogaku prompts us to question: where do these two realms meet? What does "retirement" really mean for an artist whose life *is* performance? I like the kind of puzzle the artist offers. What will he do, now he is in retirement? Editor: That reframes everything for me. It is more than a nice set of screens… It becomes about the tension between those two worlds and what the actor chooses. Curator: Exactly. Art reflecting life, life reflecting art, floating in-between... perhaps Chogaku hints that he will find, on “retirement”, art in the ordinary landscape that stretches out before him. What do you think? Editor: I agree – I am intrigued and want to know how this "new stage" of life pans out for our artist here. A little melancholic, but full of possibility as well. Thanks!