Tag Archives: monstrous japan

Beauty of the Moment

Beauty of the Moment
Seriously guys, I’m happy and thankful for your sweet comments on my outfit post. I know there are plenty of fashion blogs out there with exemplary coords and shots so I really had to overcome myself before posting those pics. I’m glad I did so though! :bling:
But I’m actually here to tell you about an event and an exhibition I’m looking forward to. The exhibition is called The Beauty of the Moment ~ Women in Japanese Woodblocks Prints and is taking place at Museum Rietberg in Zurich from the 7th of July to the 14th of October. What I’m looking forward to even more though, is the Tanabata star festival, meaning “Evening of the seventh” that will be the opening of the exhibition. :hoshi: There will be concerts, yummy japanese food stands, movies, workshops, and even a tea ceremony.

Teahouse girls under a wistaria espalier by Kitagawa Utamaro

Tanabata has its origins in a moving love story. Only on this one particular day of the year can the weaver Orihime and the cowherd Hikoboshi meet before the two stars Wega and Altair, which represent the two lovers, are separated again by the Milky Way. :jupp:
Every year on 7 July, children and adults write a wish on a piece of paper in honour of the lovers. Hung from bamboo branches, their wishes should come true. :bang:

Seventh Month, Evening Send-Off by Torii Kiyonaga

The core of the exhibition however, is an exquisite selection of 100 representations of women by Japan’s best-known woodblock printers of the 18th and 19th centuries. An essential element of Japanese woodcuts is the idea of capturing the ephemeral moment. In the genre of bijingapictures of beautiful women –, artists portray women in snapshots full of irretrievable charm.


At the beginning of the nineteenth century, color woodblock prints in Japan played a role similar to that played by commercial art in Europe today. But soon – probably because Western art lovers admired the intricacy and refinement of the compositions – individual works were gaining world renown. The appeal of this typically Japanese art form continues to this day. Artists and designers in particular value woodblocks as an important source of inspiration. A key element of Japanese woodblock prints, which is encapsulated by the term ukiyo-e, ‘pictures of the floating world’, is the way they capture the fleeting moment.

The works displayed come mostly from the famous collection of the novelist James A. Michener (1907–1997). The Honolulu Museum of Art, where the Michener collection is housed, possesses one of the most outstanding and best pre- served collections of Japanese woodblocks in the world. All the pictures and information in this entry are from the museum’s website: Rietberg
Do you like Japanese art? Frankly I’m not the frequent museum visitor but if there’s a little fun bound to it, why not? I wish I had a traditional Japanese robe to wear for such events like a Yukata but I guess something else will have to do.

Laurita & Miho-chan, it would be fun to see you there :nekopaw:

byebye,

Teru Teru Bozu~

Teru Teru Bozu~
Hi there! :hionigiri:
Is it raining too where you live? We’ve been having a lot of rainy days and the temperature has sunken again. :sigh:
Fortunately I don’t care too much about it because I’m still way too pale to walk around in cute summer dresses and such. Well actually I already did and I guess I have to keep on doing so in order to at least get a tiny little bit of tan. But lying on the grass in a swin suit is such so much more comfortable than walking around in the city or to school and trying to get some sun. I can’t wait until it’s warm enoug to go swimming! :bling:
To keep the rain away and make the sun shine I made some Teru Teru Bozu.
“Teru” is a Japanese verb which describes sunshine, and a “bōzu” is a Buddhist monk.


In Japan people, especially children, make them with any leftover cloth they can find in their houshold and hang them outside the windwow to wish for sunny weather on the next day. Children often do them before a school trip but a farmer would probably rather wish for it because of his crops. You can turn the doll upside down if you wish for rain instead.


Traditionally, if the weather turned out well, they would draw a happy face, give it a golden bell and poure some sweet sake over it. But if the weather turned out bad, the dolls would get a sad face or even loose their heads. Some sources say that you’re supposed to draw one eyes first (as with the Daruma) and the second, after you’re wish has been granted.


There’s a Warabe Uta 童歌, a Japanese nursery rhyme about the Teru Teru Bozu that goes like this~ :swirlheart:

てるてるぼうず、てるぼうず
明日天気にしてをくれ
いつかの夢の空のよに
晴れたら金の鈴あげよ

てるてるぼうず、てるぼうず
明日天気にしてをくれ
私の願いを聞いたなら
甘いお酒をたんと飲ましょ

てるてるぼうず、てるぼうず
明日天気にしてをくれ
それでも曇って泣いてたら
そなたの首をちょんと切るぞ
Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Do make tomorrow a sunny day
Like the sky in a dream sometime
If it’s sunny I’ll give you a golden bell

Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Do make tomorrow a sunny day
If you make my wish come true
We’ll drink lots of sweet sake

Teru-teru-bozu, teru bozu
Do make tomorrow a sunny day
but if it’s cloudy and I find you crying
Then I shall snip your head off

Like many nursery rhymes, this song is rumored to have a darker history than it first appears. It originated from a story of a monk who promised farmers that he would stop the rain that was ruining the crops and bring clear weather. As the monk failed to bring sunshine, he was executed. source


They’re very easy to make and a cute decoration for the house and maybe if you wish for it really hard they will even grant your wish so why not give it a try? Use any piece of cloth you have, put it over an other balled up piece of cloth or cotton and fix it with an elastic band. Draw on cute faces and hang them outside your window! :twinkles:
Like everything magic, it will succeed if you believe in it.

byebye,

Tsukumogami or~ The repentant Artifacts

Tsukumogami or~ The repentant Artifacts

:hionigiri:
I’m a bit late with this month’s Yōkai but here it is.
Tsukumogami (付喪神) are artifact spirits.There are many types of tsukumogami, as in folk belief virtually any object has the potential to attain consciousness. They are usually depicted as having human, animal or monstrous limbs growing from object bodies, or else as human bodies with objects as their heads.
In Japan it is said, that houshold items and artifacts become alive, once they reach one hundred years of age. At every ending of a year in December, the event called Sweeping soot, Susuharai (煤払い, comparable to sping-cleaning) is held in which people thoughly clean their houses and old tools are thrown away on an alley. Getting rid of these old houshold items should prevent them from bringing bad luck and mishaps to your home.

Susuharai

Legend has it that during the Kenpō era (964–968), there was a rebellion of such old household items. The story goes that, having been tossed out into the street by noble families in Kyoto, a group of angry household tools got together to formulate a plan to punish the humans who had discarded them after so many years of loyal service.

Household items gathering and plotting revenge

Some of the most known Tsukumogami include:

Bakezori: A discarded sandal which scampers through the house muttering to itself
Biwabokuboku: An enchanted Biwa lute that can only be played by certain people
Boroboroton: A ratty old bedding sheet, which presses down upon the sleeper and suffocates them
Burabura: A ripped, ragged lamp which floats in the air spewing fire
Kameosa: A bottle of Sake which, having received a good life from its many owners, is benevolent to humans, providing an unlimited amount of whatever fluid is put in
Karakasa: A battered umbrella with a hairy leg for a pole, a long tongue and a cyclopean eye
Kosode no Te: A child’s Kimono, handed down for years but often the first thing to be pawned in hardship, it channels the will of those who used to wear it
Kotofurunushi: Another enchanted instrument, a doglike creature born from a Koto (slide-guitar)
Mokumokuren: A battered screen door in abandoned houses, which glares at those who sleep behind it with eyes in its holes.
Setotaisho: Soldiers made of cutlery which attack Kitchen staff. Mostly harmless, and prone to dashing itself apart when it charges, only to piece it together and start again.



To read about the legend of the Tsukumogami Emaki, read on!
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