Imagine that it’s the late 1800′s, your an itinerant salesman, and you see a burgeoning market in small farming villages and also in the post towns along one of the five main traveling routes (the go-kaido), like the famous Tōkaidō road, or the Nakasendō. Now imagine that you need to carry your goods with you. What are you going to use? Luckily there is an answer to this dilemma; you would strap a nice gyosho bako to your back and march out there to prosperity.

Now obviously, depending on what you are selling, these chests could be very cumbersome. So to keep weight down you would choose a light weight wood in their construction, maybe some kiri (paulownia) or some sugi (cedar) would be prudent. And you might want to keep it simple and coat it with just some wiped laquer; its inexpensive and easy to repair. You definitely would also choose to keep the iron work to a minimum, that is, unless you were a metalsmith and needed to show off your best work. In terms of design, you had an infinite number of variations. One door, two doors, hinged or maybe drop-fit, and with as many drawers as necessary. Tall and narrow or short and squat, it’s up to you. Only one question remains, what product are you going to choose to make your destiny manifest?

Pictured is an 1880 circa gyosho bako made from hinoki (cypress) and sugi (cedar). As for the hardware, handles are in the warabite (bracken hand) style and the jomae (lockplates), with double kikuza-tegakejo (floriate button) latches, are nice and utilitarian. Two aspects of this piece I find interesting are the kendan buta (drop fit) doors and the two thicker strips of wood used for adding strength to the back where the straps are attached, I hadn’t seen that before. I don’t know about you, but I think I would hate to strap one of these on my back. That being said, I still think they are great, and historically, important as well. Definitely shows how Japan went from a totally agrarian economy during feudal times, to a more industrious one as the Shogunate’s grasp of the economy began to break down.

If I had a zashiki or dei (main entertaining tatami room), this is one piece I would definitely want to put in it. An amazing Sendai tansu with beautiful hardware. This was definitely a showpiece for an affluent merchant to display while he was entertaining guests.

Although I believe this to actually represent the fourth stage of Sendai evolution (late Meiji or early Taisho) due to the fact that is a stacking piece, the floriate button on the lockplate is non existant, meaning that it has a double action lock (urajo), it has mokko style handles which replaced the earlier warabite style, and the lockplates are also embossed and incised with beatiful depictions of what I think are shishi (lion-dogs of protection).

Exhibiting a nice Kijiro laquer finish over a nice reddish stain on the Keyaki wood, this piece definitely presents an impressive display of craftsmanship.

Another nice thing I would like to point out is the corner hardware (which I believe is called herikanagu). Nicely incised, this also points out how with the introduction of sheet metal at the end of the Meiji era, the craftsmen were able to spend more time on the decoration instead of just on fabrication of hardware, therefore adding to the aesthetic qualities of the pieces. And hey, if I was a wealthy merchant that had to hide my wealth due to the Edo era edicts, once the Meiji restoration hit, I would have jumped on all this ornamentation as well.

Here we have another fine example of Nihonmatsu region cabinetmaking. I won’t go into so much detail, as I previously described the style here in a previous post. I just want to point out the things that I find interesting with this piece that I haven’t seen before.

The coolest attribute that this piece has are the brass butterfly sliding keyhole covers. The butterflies and the various positions they are placed in lend and amazing lightness to the piece. Depending on the position the covers are left in, it almost seems as if there are butterflies flitting all across the tansu. The contrasting brass color helps them to stand out, creating an amazing visual element, enticing the eye to wander across the piece. I especially like the way the butterfly actually cantilevers over the edge of the jomae (lockplate) on the safe door. Totemo sugoi, ne! The lockplates also have nice depictions of cherry blossoms, bamboo, and pine boughs.

I also would like to point out the butterfly protective plates for the warabite handles and how they are unusually canted to either side, furthering the floating effect. This has got to be one of the most aesthetically enticing pieces I’ve ever come across. Click on one of the pictures to go to the listing for more images, you won’t regret it.

I saw this tansu on eBay and wanted to talk about it due to the fact that it depicts another regional style perfectly. Tansu production came late to Nihonmatsu (literally, two pine trees) and the area was primarily active in the mid-Meiji era. But what they lacked for in timing, they made up with uniqueness, as they were basically uninfluenced in design by their tansu producing neighbors, Yonezawa, Sendai, and Niigata.

Nihonmatsu tansu are some of the largest clothing chests made, with a typical size of over 43 inches wide and heights sometimes over 47 inches. Always a chest on chest design with the primary woods being Sugi (Japanese Cedar) for the carcass and Keyaki (Japanese Elm) for the drawer faces (this example listed the drawers as being Matsu (pine)). These chests typically had Warabite (bracken hand) type handles with intricate incised toshi-zagane (backplates), this depicted piece also has Sakura (cherry blossom) and Matsu protective plates (I don’t know the Japanese name for this type of handle protective plates, so if any of you out there do, please contact me).

Another distinctive characteristic of the Nihonmatsu tansu was the unique jomae (lockplate) with double kikuza-tegakejo (floriate button) latches as depicted here. One button was a sliding latch (karajo), and the other was a single action lock (omotejo) requiring a key, and could be used separately. This example shows a typical Nihonmatsu sliding lock cover of brass depicting the lucky Daikoku’s mallet (Daikoku is a god that is associated with wealth and agriculture) as well as some brass depictions of koi and a money bag at the center.

Tansu from this region had two types of finishes (nuri). Kijiro, which was a laborious process of multiple layers of clear lacquer (urushi) and polishings over a natural or stained-wood surface (depicted here), or Tame nuri which was an opaque lacquer which would hide the open grained wood and was equally laborious to apply.

One last unique attribute to Nihonmatsu tansu was the atypical use of the carcass wood for the interior drawer faces in the door compartment, as opposed to the usual consistent use of the same wood for all the drawer faces (hidden or not) found on all other types of tansu.