Bun’ya no Asayasu (no. 36), from the series A Pictorial Commentary on One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets (Hyakunin isshu eshō: Bun'ya no Asayasu)

A woman is about to play a shakuhachi (end-blown bamboo flute), an instrument usually played by male performers in premodern Japan; at her feet is a koto (a zither-like instrument played with plucks). As with other woodblock prints in this series, a Japanese poet of ancient times is playfully represented by a woman posed in an early modern setting and garbed in contemporary kimono. The title on the handscroll at the top tells us that this is from a series of a hundred prints, each representing a poet and featuring a famous verse from the popular poetry anthology One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets (Hyakunin isshu, compiled by the courtier-poet and literary arbiter Fujiwara no Teika (1162–1241) in the early thirteenth century). But there is a playful twist to each depiction in this series, since the celebrated poets of ancient times, whether male or female, are shown as contemporary women. This kind of parody, referred to as yatsushi, often presented historical figures in contemporary dress, members of court society as commoners, and men as women. The level of sexual innuendo was part of the appeal of such prints, and in this case in particular, shakuhachi in the demimonde of Edo (modern-day Tokyo) was a slang term for fellatio, an allusion that would not have been lost on viewers of this print of the day. Furthermore, the image of a woman playing a shakuhachi playfully imposes an erotic subtext on a highly refined classical poem about the blowing of the autumn wind, and the scattering of white dew.

It is also clear, however, that Kunisada was inspired by the pioneering woodblock- illustrated book Eastern Brocade of One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets (Nishiki hyakunin isshu Azuma-ori, 1775) by Katsukawa Shunshō published nearly seventy years before, which included the same roster of poets and their canonical poems. The Met fortunately has a copy of this influential volume, which helped popularize the famous poetry anthology, and it is interesting to observe how Shunshō respected the gender and social class of each poet, and garbed each in court or ecclesiastical robes befitting their actual status (2013.821).

Transcribed on the handscroll at the top of the composition, which also includes the title of the series, is a lengthy text with commentary explicating the meaning of the waka (31-syllable court poem written in five lines of 5–7–5–7–7 syllables respectively). To the left, the text of the verse itself is written on a pair of karuta poem cards, which would have been used in a parlor game in which poem cards of the Hyakunin isshu are scattered about on the floor. Players try to be the first to match the first three lines of a famous poem on one card with the final two lines on another.

Here the waka (Hyakunin isshu, no. 37) by Bun’ya no Asayasu (active late 9th–early 10th century), also revered as one of the Rokkasen (Six Poetic Immortals), reads as follows:

Upper poem card:
しら露に　かぜの吹しく　秋の野は
Shira-tsuyu ni
kaze no fuki-shiku
aki no no wa

Lower poem card:
つらぬきとめぬ　玉ぞちりけり
tsuranuki-tomenu
tama zo chirikeri

As the wind blows bitingly
across autumn fields,
white drops of dew,
like cascades of unstrung pearls,
scatter everywhere.
(Trans. John T. Carpenter)

Although all the designs in this series of one-hundred prints were issued as individual sheets (each signed and sealed), there are several instances where consecutive designs relate to one another, but only occasionally with elements that connect the compositions. This print, for instance, can form the center sheet of a triptych comprised of design number 35 on the right featuring a poem by Kiyowara no Fukayabu and a women playing a koto (part of which is seen here); and design number 37 as the left sheet with a poem by Mibu no Tadamine and a woman playing a kokyū. When viewed together, the three women form an ensemble in concert.