Let’s get back to tansu, shall we? I want to generally talk about kaidan dansu (step chests) also lessor known as hako kaidan (box stairs), verses a critique of a particular piece, just to give an overview of the style. You may already be familiar with these pieces due to their popularity in east/west interior design, but you may not know how they came about. Traditional Japanese homes, Minka, were originally single story structures inhabited by the non-Samurai castes, peasants, merchants, and craftsman (minka now implies to any house from a particular historical era). Anyway, there were edicts as to how fancy your house could be and you were taxed upon the size of your dwelling as well as the fixtures within it. One possible explanation for kaidan dansu is that in these lower caste houses, these chests were used to reach a clandestine living or working area of the house so as not to be taxed for that space (in some regions the attics were used for silk worm cultivation, a highly profitable trade, one which a daimyo (lord of the fief) might want to get his hands on). The chests were usually constructed in two or three pieces for ease of dis-assembly as this would render them less a permanent structure, therefore less likely to be taxed. And if you didnt see them stacked, who would know you’ve got a whole cottage industry hanging out (literally) upstairs. Score one for the downtrodden peasants! Another possible origination of kaidan dansu could be in the more metropolitan areas. Kura (storehouses) were some of the first two story buildings constructed. Used for storage by merchants, these were sturdily made and usually fireproof, an important attribute in towns that were primarily made out of wood and paper. Evidence exists of how kura were used for extended living spaces, and how else were you going to get upstairs, by ladder? Another type of urban dwelling known as machiya (townhouses) also could have benefited from a set of stairs. In areas where space was at a premium, a lot of times the only way to go was up, facilitating the need for some stairs with a handy set of space-saving drawers and cabinets underneath. Whatever way they originated, kaidan dansu have come to be one of the most recognizable and sought after forms of tansu. I always wanted to build a house with one of these pieces as the actual staircase, try getting that one by your local building codes.

I was first introduced to these by my brother (you might want to check out his Victorian Furniture Blog) while on a family outing to a flea market, where he showed me some large floats hanging in a booth. I had no idea what they were, but he did from all his nautical artifacts research. As soon as he said they were Japanese I was hooked and started collecting them myself (all of which have subsequently been stolen, shucks). Pictured first is a large honey colored float approximately 14-1/3″ in diameter. This is at the top end of float sizes as the most common are usually around 3-1/2″ in diameter. Second is another large float approximately 13″ in diameter. This one has the legible kanji symbol for kita (north), the trademark of the Hokuyo Glass Company out of Aomori, Japan. Glass floats were traditionally made by melting down whatever spare glass you had around, which usually was old sake bottles, evident by the predominant color being aqua. Most were hand blown, with a glass button used to seal the hole, but there are also 2 and 3 piece molded floats. What I like most about floats is the found object aspect to their collection and all the evidence of the time spent floating around in the Pacific and rolling up on beaches. You can find them with or without their hempen nets that are used to secure them to the large drift nets they were attached to. Sometimes there is evident etching from their time spent in the sand (which sometimes is masked by the net, creating visually striking web-like patterns). And sometimes you can find barnacles affixed to the exterior, or even times where water has gotten inside through minor imperfections in the glass. Well, I just wanted to whet your whistle about these floats, I could go on and on about characteristics, but you can find it all out there floating on the ether called the web, much as how you might luckily find one of these lovely balls floating around.

I thought I would stay on the topic of large protuberances started in the last post, and I do mean large. Here are two more examples of extreme olfactory organs, this time in the form of Baku, nightmare-eating chimera with an elephant’s trunk, rhinoceros eyes, an ox tail, and tiger’s paws. Purported with the ability to protect against evil and pestilence, it made sense that these were included in classical Shinto and Buddhist temple architecture; what better way to keep away crop ravaging insect invasions and village pillaging Ronin, than by praying at a temple protected by these deities. The first example is huge, making me wonder what temple this came from and why it was dismantled. Measuring approximately 5′ 3″ (l) x 1′ 1-3/4″ (w) x 1′ 9-5/8″ (h), this thing is almost as big as I am. If you click the image you can see in other images the pinned kone hozo (haunch tenon) joint used to hold this sucker up. Knowing a little about Japanese joinery I would have thought this to be held up with a more elaborate system due to it’s size, but I guess if it’s ornamental and not structural, all you need to do is hold up it’s own weight. Plus it looks as if it was locked in on top somewhat by some form of beam, so that would take some strain off. The second piece is large as well, though not as extreme, measuring in at 2′ 5-1/2″ (l) x 1′ 2-5/8″ (w) x 1″ 6-7/8″ (h), with a more readily identifiable elephant shnozz. Due to the manner in which these Baku are depicted you can place their age anywhere from the Kamakura era to the early Edo era, upwards of 400 years or more. Needless to say, I think the first guy is cute and wish he could come and stay at my house.

What we have here is a Yamabushi Tengu mask used in the typically comedic Kyogen acts performed as the sort of intermissions between Noh acts. Kyogen rarely uses masks (or props, or stage sets for that matter) unless the character was an animal or a god. A Tengu is sometimes both; the literal translation is heavenly dogs and since they lived in the woods they were sometimes worshipped as Shinto mountain Kami (gods). Tengu were originally thought of as birds of prey and the human forms were depicted as having beaks, which has evolved over time into the huge protuberances we now see. Yamabushi are mountain hermits that were imbued with supernatural powers and martial arts skills. Primarily following Shugendou, a mixture of the esoteric Buddhist form of Shingon, and Shinto. So, mountain Kami and mountain warrior ascetics form a great mix, and can often be confused, which is how I first learned about Tengu, watching Kage no Gundan (look for Shadow Warriors), a ninja series from the eighties. Anyway, no matter how you came across them, folktales, theater or ninjas, Tengu are cool and so is this mask. 1880′s, silk hair, beautiful nose, museum quality, what more could you want?

This here is a 17th century Tanegashima (matchlock) and I think its the coolest thing ever. First it’s from the 1600′s, second, check out the barrel with its intricate inlay of swirling clouds and dragons, and third, the apparent owner of this firearm indicated in the inlay. Now, the owners name isn’t expressly written but, Matsudaira Houki no Kami is and that’s good enough for me (I can’t confirm all the kanji used, but I’m not completely fluent, so we’ll go with it for now). If true, this gun belonged to a member of the Matsudaira clan, and coincidentally this clans’ mon (crest) is the same as the Tokugawa mon, the reason, Tokugawa Ieyasu was born Matsudaira Takechiyo. That’s the cool part. Whoever owns this piece, owns a piece of Tokugawa history, and since I study Japanese history I would love to have this in my collection.
I also like the way the Japanese took the Portuguese technology and changed it to suit their needs. They dropped the fishtail stock and converted the guns from a shoulder braced device into a purely hand held one. They would hold the gun in both hands and stabilize it by opposing pressure, the leading hand pushes forward while the rear hand pulls. I thinks that’s why there is a hook on the butt of the gun. The manufacturers eliminated kickback to the shoulder but I would think it would make the users cheek feel more of the brunt. Yet another example of how the Japanese have historically taken outside technology and converted it to their needs. Sugoi ne!