Monthly Archives: March 2021
Tōkaidō gojūsantsugi ichiran: map vs art
“The major difference between maps and pictures is that maps are products of land surveys that far exceed the perceptible realm of a given observer, thus they cover a wide expansion of a territory …The role of the reader is to decipher this data, in order to extract or to learn from it information that is beyond his/her faculties of direct perception. Pictures, on the other hand, are conventionally meant to be looked at as a whole —thus in their macro-scale—and usually correspond—or conventionally allude— to the artist’s perception, that is offered as a new visual perception to the viewer. Looking closely at the broad body of material that is labeled as road-maps of Edo and early Meiji Japan, it is not unusual to find elaborate imagery integrated with symbols of cartography. These maps are stylistically and functionally open
carrying many influences from the visual arts. At the same time, if a map is a map because of its accurate depiction of a space, many pictures may be found to have more qualities of maps than artifacts actually labeled as maps.” (Traganou, p.24-25)
https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/tokugawa/items/1.0216572#p0z-5r0f:tokaido
So far in this course, we have been given the challenge of deciphering what maps really are. Are they constructed “theories” as Turbull said, or “a form of graphic representation that takes as its frame of reference the physical environment” as stated by Berry? Without really considering the implications of defining what it is or its purpose, I would assume that most people think of a map simply as a tool that guides its reader from point A to point B. However, as I mentioned in my previous response, maps can only be defined using a culmination of all of the different aspects (cultural, sociopolitical, geographical, etc.) that are contained in the various definitions available. The map I will be focusing on today, the Tōkaidō gojūsantsugi ichiran, is from the Edo period (1839), and actually seems to defy traditional conceptions of what a map is meant to do/be.
In this week’s reading, one paragraph in particular stood out to me. In this paragraph (quoted above the beginning of this response), Traganou attempts to unequivocally distinguish maps from pictures. However, as they state in the reading as well as what we can see from the Tōkaidō gojūsantsugi ichiran map, the distinctions were often blurred in the maps of the Edo period (of course, this blurred distinction is not at all exclusive to Edo maps). The most important aspects I gathered from Traganou’s distinction are that maps “far exceed the perceptible realm of a given observer” and that pictures are supposed to be “looked at as a whole” and that they “allude to the artist’s perception”. These distinctions, while valid in most cases, are seemingly defied in an innumerable number of cases. In the example of the aforementioned Tokaido map, while the scope is definitely greater than an individual’s immediate perception, there is plenty of artistic injection, and could easily be “looked at as a whole” work of art.
In the last sentence of the aforementioned quote, Traganou states the paradoxical nature of such distinctions made in the former portion of the paragraph. Are maps supposed to be an accurate depiction of geographical space that is meant to be deciphered by the reader? In that case, what makes the depiction of Kyoto in the Tōkaidō gojūsantsugi ichiran any more “map-like” than, let’s say, an accurate overhead painting of the city? Is the latter technically considered a map at this point?
Looking at the Tōkaidō gojūsantsugi ichiran, we can immediately tell that this map is not necessarily an accurate representation of geographical spaces, nor would it be particularly useful in guiding a traveler attempting to travel to Kyoto. On the other hand, the map has artistic flair and beauty to spare. I would much rather hang this particular map up on my wall as a decoration to admire than to be stranded with it as a tool somewhere on the Tokaido route in Edo Japan. If I were to classify this work, I would definitely lean in the direction of art over map. However, artistic style is a cultural phenomenon in itself, and once again this map shows us that maps are much more than simply a tool for geographical navigation.
The appreciation of the map Tōkaidō bunken nozu
Quoting from the Traganou:
The major characteristic of the map is its combining precise topographical descriptions with vigorous details of life. Indeed, the illustrations added by Moronobu transformed the map into a vivid pictorial illustration of the culture of traveling in the Edo period. Such illustrations focus on the celebrated ‘floating’ aspects of the culture of the road, elements that are ephemeral and changeable. The map depicts various types of travelers, including daimyō processions and commoners traveling back and forth, as well as incidents for which the Tōkaidō was well known in popular culture. It is interesting to note the close similarities in the ways figures of travelers are drawn between this map and the Dōchūki of 1655, a guidebook that was published a few years before Tōkaidō bunken ezu’s first edition, which will be examined in the following chapter (see Figure 18). The map also depicts meteorological conditions such as the Ōi River in flood, snow on Mount Fuji and rain in Hara, which is a typical preoccupation of ukiyo-e iconography. A major difference between this map and our contemporary geographical standards is the depiction of certain, important geographical elements more than once. As Nitschke has noticed, Mount Fuji appears on the map more than ten times at spots from which it is visible (Nitschke 1993:54). To this we should add the repeated appearance of Mount Ōyama, famous in the popular mythology of Edo (Traganou, 38).
The Tōkaidō as a megalopolis plays an essential role throughout the history of Japanese cultural geography and anthropology. Therefore, many maps depict the route information of the Tōkaidō, which provides travel information for people and easy to carry on the road. Despite maps that guide the route for people on the road, it has another type of maps that highly meticulously make with the painting of details. This kind of map is usually a kind of painting artwork and very lengthy, which is not easy for people to carry on the road. Tōkaidō bunken nozu is a proportional map of the Tōkaidō, which is one of the most popular maps of the Edo Era. Tōkaidō bunken nozu is a map that uses the description of the terrain as the background depicts the details of people’s lives. The whole map is divided into five folded volumes with the continuity of art appreciation. Although the rivers, mountains, and other essential landmarks are carefully marked on the map, it is still perceived that this map’s goal is not to help people find the route, mainly based on there is no minutia depict of streets and alleys. In particular, this map is more like a guidebook that provides local entertainment and traditional customs for tourists. For example, the map accurately marks the four directions and tagging all the local famous scenic spots, such as post station, rivers, mountains. The local entertainment buildings, such as teahouse, temples, and shrines, are also marks on the map.
Moreover, there are many impressive figures of vivid people drawn on the map. Some of them are passers-by in a hurry walking on the road alone. Some wealthy people were carried along the road in sedan chairs by servants. On the docks, some people are moving their luggage for the boat. These vivid and detailed depictions tell the real-life of traveling in the Edo era and convey culture and convention to people through the map.
Furthermore, these elements make this map more likely to be a travel guidebook, promoting local customs and practices to tourists, such as point out beautiful scenery, highlight the recreation facilities and the local way of life. Besides, another detail is the repeated appearance of Mount Fuji on the map. First, it might because there were no many high buildings and large mansions at that time, and due to the height id Mount Fuji, it is more likely for people to see it from different directions. The more reasonable guess is selecting these places corresponds to Mount Fuji’s stereotypical representations as seen in meisho literature and arts (Traganou, 38). Therefore, this map combines the accurate description of the terrain and the vivid detail of people’s lives, making the map an artwork with delight to view and cultural diffusion.
An Itinerary map of the Tōkaidō Highway (1654)
Tokaido michiyuki no zu (Itinerary map of the Tōkaidō Highway) doi: http://dx.doi.org/10.14288/1.0167749
“Mandala maps show the routes as curved lines and include scenes of the road as if they were viewed from a distant high viewpoint. Mandalas prioritize the temporal and symbolic dimension of space, being thus clearly ‘meta-traveling’ artifacts. They often impose elements of geometrical order on the flowering landscape (Lee et al. 1983:144) and bring together distant landmarks through the use of the cloud-pattern, the technique of reversed perspective or of variable viewpoints. Their curved schemes may also reflect the Chinese doctrine of attributing malign influences to straight lines (Yee 1987:154). Tōkaidō michiyuki no zu (Itinerary map of the Tōkaidō road) (Figure 3), the oldest surviving printed road-map of the Tōkaidō, is a mandala thought to have been published in 1654 (Unno 1987:422). Although accuracy is not its main concern, practical information such as distances between post-stations and lists of fares for travelers using horses is provided. Late Edo period panoramas such as Katsushika Hokusai’s (1760–1849) (Plate 4) and Kuwagata Shōi (?–1855) (Figure 9) are also considered by Unno as belonging to the mandala category. They present a much stronger awareness of cartographic precision, however, as will be explained later in this chapter.” (Traganou, 28)
Tōkaidō michiyuki no zu is a map categorized as a mandala. Mandalas present the area in long curved lines from a distant view from an angle from above. The aesthetic art style is clear in the design of this map. The use of space and landscape are elaborate to demonstrate the just vast distance of the Tōkaidō. The winding and curving road looks as if it could go on forever. The actual distance from start to end is not clear but the names of the stops and prices listed demonstrate that the focus is on the locations along the road rather than the final destination. In some ways it reminds me of a guidebook for a city. Traganou likens dōchūki to a similar guidebook. Listing the prices for food at a cute café, or a recommendation for a place to stay the night. However, the Tōkaidō michiyuki no zu lacks the more elaborate text a guidebook might have. While mentioned earlier in the chapter, the interest in curved lines is linked to Chinese aesthetics rather the security concerns that Tokugawa took into consideration during the building of the road. The way the road branches and splits only to rejoin later on is quite unexpected for me. I would have assumed for this to be considered a different road. In addition, the map shows this bright red highlighted section of the road, this representing the Tōkaidō, yet at points it is obscured thanks to the mountains or perhaps valleys, and I find the aesthetic choice of aerial view but obscured to be a little strange. The use of colour as well is interesting. Other than the main road, the mountains are coloured brown with green tops while the water bays are a light blue. The folds in the scan imply the map was to be folded several times, and there doesn’t seem to be any cut offs or different saturation in colour which indicates a wood block print. I wonder if each of these maps are drawn by hand? It seems a little impractical however if it is seen more of a piece of art rather than a functional map, the practicality is less of a concern. Traganou does discuss practical aspects of this map such as the prices provided and the distances between post-stations on the other hand so perhaps my thoughts are lacking. The only standard type facing looks like the stampings of the cardinal directions and the map title at the top in a border.