I first heard of Katsushika Oi when I read Hessel’s ‘The Story of Art without Men.’ The picture above was my introduction to her work. Upon seeing it, I was astounded: the beauty of the piece and the skill it expressed, but I became shocked upon reading that this artist has been largely ignored in research on Japanese art.
My first post on here was actually on ukiyo-e and Katsushika Hokusai, the artist who made the famous ‘Great Wave off Kanagawa’. This was a shortened version of a larger essay I did, the result of about a year’s worth of research. But for all this, I had never heard of Katsushika Oi, an esteemed artist in her lifetime and collaborator with Hokusai, her father.
When I began to look further into her life and her works, I came across an issue that many others have faced, expressing their frustrations in comments of blogs and in the introductions to essays: Oi is extremely difficult to research. Surely an artist renowned during her lifetime and as skilled as she is could not be this well-hidden?
Her Life & Work
Oi was Hokusai’s third daughter, the result of his second marriage to a woman named Koto. However little else is known about her besides that, even her birth and death are ambiguous, being perhaps born around 1800 and dying some time after 1857.
Her real name was Katsushika Eijo, but she took on Katsushika Oi as an artistic name. We can assume that this is due to a nickname given to her by her father, who is recounted to have shouted “Oi!” at her, a seen Kosho’s piece above. But I also read in one source that her chosen name meant ‘loyal to’ or ‘following Iitsu,’ with ‘Iitsu’ being the name that Hokusai took on in his later works, meaning ‘once again’.
This expresses the close relationship the two had: one of both familial and of artistic collaborators.
Oi worked as his ‘ghost brush’. This was the best training anyone could get as an artist. She would aid him on his variety of project, exposing her to a multitude of genres, enabling her to acquire a wide range of skills.
Their collaboration can be seen in how Hokusai once wrote to his publisher, saying that Oi would be the one doing the preparatory drawing for an upcoming project, presenting how much trust was placed on her artistic talents.
But she far surpassed him in some skills, one of which being bijin-ga, the drawings of beautiful women. Hokusai even admitted that “when it comes to paintings of beautiful women, I can’t compete with her – she’s quite talented and expert in the technical aspects of painting.” These skills can be seen in the painting below, as well as in a letter to another artist, informing them of how to mix pigments, which she accompanies with illustrations. You can see this for yourself in Timothy Clarke’s ‘Beyond the Wave,’ page 301.
Oi wasn’t the only one of the family to be an apprentice to her father- her sisters also had the same training. However this ended once they got married, wherein they would start work in their husband’s trade instead.
Oi did, in fact, marry in 1824 to another artist. This relationship was said not to have lasted, with the pair splitting 3 years later after Oi complained about her husband’s lack of talents.
She returned to her father sometime after the death of one of her half sisters as well as of her mother, but also to continue her training as an artist and to help him in his old age, but apparently the latter was much disregarded as neither cared for housework and, instead, devoted their time solely to work. This is evident in how they were said to have started work immediately when they woke up and continue until it was time for bed, only stopping to buy pre-made meals.
This close partnership also worked against her. It has made it difficult for work to be attributed to Oi rather than her father, leaving us with only 10 works that are hers and a multitude of others under deliberation.
This is evident in the debates surrounding the ‘One Hundred Poems by One Hundred Poets’ book. One scholar argued that Oi was the first to illustrate the book, with Hokusai copying her later on, but another cited the evidence for this scholar’s claim as far too “sloppy” to be the work of a genius like Oi. Timothy Clark suggests that Oi was given a commission to illustrate the book, but Hokusai begged to take over the project upon finding out how much of a challenge it was.
I would suggest that perhaps Oi worked with her father in this project, seen in the use of colour gradients in the background of the image above, a stylistic trait of her work.
Other traits have been Kubota Kazuhiro in the most comprehensive analysis of Oi’s work. These include: elongated fingers, use of vertical structures in compositions (seen in the image above), and ‘European’ techniques, like that of shading.
Nothing expresses this better than the genre scenes Hokusai completed in a European-style. These are said to have been done under the influence of Oi, seen in the elongated fingers of the figures and the vertical structures cutting up the composition. This can be seen in ‘Flower-viewing party’ from around 1824-26, printed in Timothy Clark’s ‘Under the Wave’ on page 87.
One work that is definitely of her design is the ‘Illustrated Handbook on Daily Life for Women’ (or, ‘Onna chohoki’) of 1847. This displays her handwriting and bijin-ga, showcasing how she was skilled artist in her own right, moving into genres and subject areas that her father was not as skilled in to complete full-length projects.
The book was first published in 1629, but Oi gave it an update with her illustrations, appealing to the women of the Edo period with modern fashions. However there is still this emphasis placed upon the tradition of etiquette and ceremonies in its pages, whilst also highlighting the skills that a woman could pursue.
Women of a variety of jobs and social positions are shown here and artfully arranged to portray her talents at bijin-ga. They appear arranged according to status, with the lower class women on the right-hand side, with their less decorative outfits and heavy loads they are carrying, gazing towards those on the left hand page who move with leisure and are adorned in richly decorated outfits of merchants and courtesans. The latter can be seen at the foreground wearing kanzashi in their hair, which were used to decoration to their outfit as well as to ward of evil spirits.
Despite the differences in class and role, all the women “share”, as the British Museum description for the piece says, “a quality of gentle femininity,” which is portrayed in how they are elegantly posed, necks craning gracefully and hands wrapped around bundles or holding fans. Their grace is reflected in the still life in the centre of the double page illustration, where the irises as well as other flora and fauna are used by Oi to emphasize the beauty of the women around it.
But her careful consideration of her audience displays aspects of modern marketing, with the portrayal of female ideals: of what the viewer can become if they buy and read this book.
Overall, Oi has proved herself to be fascinated by the subject of beauty, something expressed amongst here other works.
An interesting fact that gives us a greater insight into her life and interests, is how she signed the book as ‘tipsy’ or ‘drunken woman,’ suggesting a love of alcohol and a humorous personality. This was rather unconventional, as is the ‘en bosse’ style of hair she wears in the picture by Kosho of her and her father.
This is interesting to notes considering how Hokusai’s works of a certain period were signed ‘painting while drunk.’ Whilst this could be that he was unhappy with the result of his work and wanted to blame the sloppiness on an untrue factor- considering he didn’t like alcohol- it could also be that he had worked with Oi to create the piece and she wanted to make this known, hence the reference to her own signature.
Once again the close artistic relationship between them has made it difficult to craft an individual identity for Oi out of her father’s shadow.
Work in detail
We return again to my favourite of her works that we first saw at the beginning. Here, this subject of beauty is expressed once again, even in the most unlikely of places: the brothel district.
The painting depicts a late night scene of one of the brothels. The courtesans are depicted in the background behind the bars of the shop front, subject to the stares of possible costumers who crowd outside, holding lanterns against the inky darkness. And yet, despite the possible indecency of the scene, Oi paints it with a sort of calm beauty, a serenity that provides a nuance to a scene, suggesting that it is one that would be looked upon night after night, lending a degree of normalcy to the depiction. Even the point of view of the artist- and, therefore the viewer- supports this as we look down upon the scene from, presumably, an upstairs window across the street. We take part in the calm serenity that permeates the scene.
There’s beauty and there’s entrapment.
On this Julie Nelson says, “Her painting of a night scene in the brothel district is one of the most moving depictions of that quarter, capturing both its artifice and its artificiality. She has turned the courtesans who were so often shown as fashion plates into anonymous figures, obscured by the lattice, capturing the pathos of their existence as indentured prostitutes.”
I have to agree with her: there is this balance between critique and acceptance, but I would say there is even a degree of appreciation in the piece. This makes it tricky to discern what exactly were Oi’s beliefs on the subject, whilst Oi goes as far as to question the viewer’s as we are caught between disgust as the foreground figure’s stares but we also fall into admiring the poised figures of the women.
This use of contradictions seep into the techniques of the piece itself, ultimately enhancing this feeling of balance between opposites.
There is, first and foremost, the darkness gathering at the foreground and the edges of the piece. This was a rarity in ukiyo-e, with night time usually signaled, not through the use of black pigments, but through the suggestions made by lanterns or a moon, as can be seen in this other of Oi’s work.
However, the gathering darkness is not made out to be overwhelming or even that threatening, with the balance created between it and the vibrant reds and other array of colours in the background, hidden partially by the bars of the window. These bars themselves are balanced in their strict symmetry against the curving forms of the figures throughout the piece, as well as the soft diffusion of light coming from the lanterns and shop. This aspect of the piece also lends the work its warmth, its comfort, enhancing the calm atmosphere.
On the flip side, there is the underlying entrapment, seen in the prison imagery of the bars, for example. The courtesans are made anonymous as they lower their eyes behind their fans or are faceless behind the bars of the window (leading, as Lucy Dayman rightfully says to “The viewer sees enough to know who they are and their roles, but not much else.”) However, this anonymity is shared with the onlookers of that linger outside the shop’s walls. They too are faceless, their backs turned and cloaked in the night. But as onlookers they hold power over what they look onto, making the courtesans the objects of their gaze. Take this a step further, and we the viewer hold the most power over the scene, looking onto these spectators, these purveyors. Therefore, Oi’s work also displays the careful balance of power, once again creating an atmosphere of reflection and calm as we look onto this mentally complex scene. Through this, Oi exhibits her talents.
To balance so many conflicting elements into a piece with an atmosphere of serenity presents a skill so great its shocking to think that she has been overlooked since her death.
The question of why she has been largely forgotten is asked again. Could it be because she was a woman? Has she been hidden in her father’s shadow? Is it because of this that its difficult to tell where her work ends and his begins? It seems to be a mixture of all of these, with no definite answer.
Ultimately, what researching Katushika Oi has taught me, is that in order to lift up voices previously forgotten, we need to research, share what we have learnt in order to place them alongside the other artists recognised as great, lifting them to their rightful place in history.
Here are some questions to consider:
Why do you think Oi has been largely forgotten?
Do you know of any artists who have suffered the same fate as her?
and,
How could the Japanese printing tradition have affected Katsuhika Oi’s longevity as an artist?
Further reading:
Currently reading: ‘Hood Feminism’ by Mikki Kendall (which I highly recommend!)
Random Recommendation: ‘Quiet’ by Victoria Adukwei Bulley
Have a good day! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)