A painter signs his name Kōchōrō Kunisada - a studio name meaning something like "Fragrant Butterfly Tower" - and does something no woodblock artist was supposed to do. He picks up a brush, loads it with gofun and gold, and paints directly onto silk. Utagawa Kunisada was the bestselling ukiyo-e designer of his generation. But prints were the people's medium - repeatable, affordable, democratic. Painting on silk was the territory of Kanō school masters and Chinese-trained literati. Kunisada didn't care. In this kakemono he rendered his bijin-ga sensibility in a medium reserved for his social betters. The black kimono scattered with white blossoms. The coral-red geometric underlayer. The gold brocade obi. Kanzashi fanning from an impossible hairstyle. And in her hand, a wad of kaishi - the folded paper a courtesan carried as casually as breathing, a detail so specific it pins the image to life inside the Yoshiwara. The floating world climbed onto silk and refused to apologize for it. Quelle: meisterdrucke.com
