As of yet, I have neglected writing about tansu that contain a specific traditional feature, the Bo (locking bar). This has not been due to my lack of interest in this particular feature, more just waiting for a piece that contains multiple aspects that I find worthy of discussing. Well, I finally found one with this stacking clothes chest.  Traditionally, brides took their personal tansu to the new husband’s family home, and I think that’s what we are looking at here.

The bo dansu is one of the oldest styles of tansu, probably due to the fact that it required the least amount of kanagu (hardware) to secure everything. Now in my uneducated opinion, I believe the seller of this piece is right in stating that it is from Yamagata Prefecture. One telltale feature is the warabite handles and the keyaki (zelkova) drawer fronts. I think this would be from around the mid to late Meiji era, because in earlier pieces, the handles were set against single small zagane (escutcheons) rather than full toshi-zagane (backplates) which this piece has. Furthermore, I think we can pinpoint the region of manufacture to the Shonai plain due to the style of the obikanagu (sash hardware) that are on the bo. Obikanagu were more than just decoration, they also added strength to the locking bar as well as help keep the wood from warping. Cool, huh? Well I could go on forever about hardware or how maybe thats bengara stain under the laquer on the sash hardware etc… Let’s just look at the pretty pictures instead.

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.

First off, sorry for the lack of posts this week, work and holidays often get in the way of my true interests, and I think most of my American readers were tied up similarly. So, on with the show.

Exhibited here is your typical Naga-Hibachi. Most Americans confuse the small metal barbecues that you can find in supermarkets (near the charcoal) which are actually called Shichiren with Hibachi. Apparently the confusion came about when shichiren were being introduced to the west, and the true name seemed to be too hard for us to pronounce. So, as with most things foreign, we decided to use an easier word to suit our needs, and hibachi must have rolled off the tongue easier. Even better, we also misuse the word hibachi to describe a flat iron grill which is actually called a teppan. You might be familiar with this cooking apparatus if you’ve eaten at Benihana’s. I could keep this train going, but I’ve gotten a little off topic.

A true hibachi is a wooden box that has a copper liner into which you place charcoal. Older versions were called hibitsu (fire coffer) and basically consisted of a hewn block of wood with clay lining the inside for fireproofing. While later versions (after the boxes) were sometimes round and made out of porcelain (round wooden versions were also popular). A hibachi is primarily used for a heat source to keep water hot for tea as well as providing the only heat source, outside of the kitchen, in a traditional home. You could use it to light your kiseru (pipe), or insert incense sticks for aroma. As tea was customarily served to guests, you usually hung out around the hibachi. The addition of drawers were used to hold items like tongs, your tobacco pouch, or tools for tea preparation.

Naga-hibachi represents the Kanto (basically Edo or Tokyo) regional version of the firebox. They usually had drawers down one side or along the bottom, or both as seen in the picture above. Any useable surface space was adjacent to the firebox and sometimes had a lid to cover storage compartements. Drawer handles were typically warabite (fern hand) with the wood being Keyaki (Japanese Elm). The joinery was typically hanken-shiki (finger joint), but hibachi were also one of the only types of household furnishings that could also have dovetail joints. The piece above states that it has dovetails, but I couldn’t see them in the pictures. For more info on this piece click here or on the picture. When I come accross the other styles, I will of course post about them.

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.