Yoshida Tōshi
Shinjuku (fig. 10) is one such example, bearing similarities to both of his father’s works discussed above. Shinjuku is a special ward in Tokyo that is currently a major commercial and administrative center, but used to be an inexpensive entertainment district. Because of its location as the ending point for several national and suburban rail lines, Shinjuku became a vibrant urban area by the late 1930s.[1] At the time of Tōshi’s print, the district boasted several large movie theaters as well as a thriving geisha quarter.[2] This piece, from a ten-part series entitled “Tokyo at Night” and perhaps one of Tōshi’s best known works, depicts a street in the district lined with two- or three-story buildings. There are signs and lanterns protruding from walls and hanging out over the street, underneath which many people, most clothed in traditional dress, are walking or are entering or exiting buildings. The busyness of the image causes the eye to move constantly, starting with the people in the foreground then moving up to the large lanterns before making its way to the background. There is much to look at and take in, especially because so much movement is indicated in the print. The vibrancy of the colors reflects the vibrancy of the locale, showing off the bustling night life. The nighttime setting also allows for extensive exploration of the uses of light. There is just enough illumination to be able to see the details in the background and pick out the individuals walking down the street. However, just like his father’s Night in Kyoto, Shinjuku illustrates a clean street that was not necessarily reflected in reality. Just as scenic landscapes of the Japanese countryside were romanticized, so too were urban landscapes, for what Westerner would want to purchase an image showing the true filth of the city?
Supper Wagon (fig. 11) comes from the same series and is also set in the Shinjuku district, though it features a much less crowded scene than Shinjuku. A woman carrying a child on her back in the traditional manner walks by small booths covered by cloth curtains advertising cheap foods such as noodles, meat dishes, and sushi. A dog stands patiently outside one of the booths, likely waiting for a bite of food. Anonymity is a prominent aspect of this print, as only the feet of the majority of the people are visible. Furthermore, as in Shinjuku, a woman and child are the forefront of the image, highlighting the importance of the woman’s role in everyday life. The rear illumination of the words written on the booth curtains and the silhouettes of people within shows a mastery of skill. Based on the location of the taller building in the background behind the willow tree and the fact that the street is so devoid of people, this locale was likely an alley or side street. While the real Shinjuku was often crowded and bustling, Tōshi presents a solitary moment and succeeds in turning an everyday subject into one of beauty.
[1] Kendall Brown and Hollis Goodall-Cristante, Shin-hanga: New Prints in Modern Japan (Los Angeles: Los Angeles County Museum of Art, 1996), 85.
