Update: As a reference, I compiled a brief booklet that contains all 27 sword fittings that are by today designated as jûyô-bunkazai, enlarged by 28 items that got jûyô-bijutsuhin. As mentioned, it is just a reference for those who always wanted to know what kind of sword fittings and tsuba are regarded by the Japanese government, or Bunkachô in particular, as being of greatest importance. The booklet comes in color and is in letter format. Price is just a little more than the printing costs and I also uploaded an eBook version of course (see links below). Thanks for your attention!

Japan’s Most Important Sword Fittings (color paperback)

Japan’s Most Important Sword Fittings (eBook)

This time I want to talk about Yoshiie (吉家), the smith who is usually mentioned right after Munechika when it comes to introducing the Yamashiro tradition. Now Yoshiie is traditionally listed as Munechika’s eldest son but this is where the problems begin. Today we are looking at two kinds of extant Yoshiie works: Such interpreted in a way that speaks for mid-Kamakura Fukuoka-Ichimonji works, and such which speak for early Yamashiro, but not that early which would place them in the direct vicinity of Munechika. This state of facts gave rise to several theories and the today widely accepted theory is that there were most likely two Yoshiie, a Sanjô Yoshiie and a Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie. Others say that Sanjô Yoshiie moved later in his career to Bizen where he changed to more flamboyant interpretations but if that is true, then he was surely not the son of Munechika as there is a gap in production times of about two centuries (Yoshiie is dated around Kenryaku [建暦, 1211-1213]). Some say that there was no Sanjô Yoshiie and that the classical, Yamashiro-like works of Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie go back to the early years of this smith. But this approach is rather unlikely because those classical works are not just “Yamashiro-like,” they are fully-grown Sanjô works. That means, I don’t think that a Bizen smith started to work entirely in a classical Yamashiro style that feels at least hundred years older than the work of his contemporaries and then “cought-up” and worked in the Fukuoka-Ichimonji style. Incidentally, there are indeed some more classically interpreted Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie works extant and these might well go back to the early years of a Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie.

Also there are some who say that Yoshiie was the name Munechika used in his later years but that does not go in accordance with those (signed) Yoshiie blades that are Sanjô works for chronological reasons. Well, we can’t rule out that Munechika did change his name to Yoshiie in later years but it seems that this approach goes just back to another try to link the extant Yoshiie works somehow to Munechika. An issue that somewhat complicates the matter is the fact that the signatures of presumably Sanjô works are rather close to those which are presumably Fukuoka-Ichimonji works. Incidentally, we know two kinds of signature variants, namely niji-mei “Yoshiie” and sanji-mei “Yoshiie saku,” and a theory says that blades with the suffix saku in the mei go back to the hand of Sanjô Yoshiie and those in niji-mei to Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie. But as pointed out by Tanobe sensei in his Gokaden series, this is not really a valid rule as similarities between mei of many early smiths can be made out, e.g. Gojô Kuninaga and Kanenaga signed their character for “naga” in a very similar way as Tegai Kanenaga did and these guys were for sure not the same smith(s).

Next and on the basis of concrete examples, I want to elaborate on the workmanship of Sanjô Yoshiie and forward some of the most obvious differences to the blades of Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie. The blade shown in picture 1 is one of those where there is consensus on the attribution to Yoshiie from the Sanjô school. It has a normal mihaba, a high shinogi, a chû-kissaki, and due to the suriage there is only a hint of funbari left. The kitae is a fine and densely forged ko-itame with fine ji-nie and a faint jifu-utsuri and the hamon is a ko-chôji mixed with some rather small dimensioned and densely arranged ko-midare and ko-gunome elements. Further we see plenty of ashi and yô, a few sunagashi and kinsuji, and an arrangement of yubashiri, tobiyaki and nijûba that can be regarded as a reminiscence of Munechika’s “layered” appearance of the ha, although here, and as you can see, already in a noticeably more thought out and sophisticated manner. In other words, the blade is surely an early Yamashiro work but does not have the ancient feel that would date it back deep into the Heian period. But everything from end of Heian to very early Kamakura seems legit and so his dating around Kenryaku is pretty much spot on. By the way, some sources date him around Hôgen (保元, 1156-1159) what might be still in the realm of possibilities but the date around Kankô (寛弘, 1004-1012) that is found in some older sources is as mentioned above surely a try to link him to Munechika. The nioiguchi by the way is wide and shows ko-nie and the bôshi appears as a somewhat undulating hakikake-bôshi with a few kinsuji.

Picture 1: tachi, mei: Yoshiie (吉家), nagasa 70.6 cm, sori 2.1 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [former heirloom of the Kajiki-Shimazu (治木島津) family]

Picture 2: tachi, mei: Yoshiie saku (吉家作), nagasa 76.9 cm, sori 3.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [former heirloom of the Matsudaira family]

The Yoshiie blade shown in picture 2 is also attributed to Sanjô Yoshiie. Well, the mei is hardly illegible and it was later altered to “Amakura” (天座) but still traces of the initial characters “Yoshi” and “ie” can be made out. It is of a classical interpretation showing a dense ko-itame with fine ji-nie and a nie-like utsuri in combination with a ko-chôji-midare hamon that is mixed with many ashi and yô, strong kinsuji and some sunagashi at the base and which runs out as a calm suguha towards the tip. The nioiguchi is bright, wide, and nie-laden and Honma writes that the blade really has a classical “Kyô feel,” in other words, early Yamashiro tradition. The bôshi is sugu and has a very smallish kaeri. This blade is precious because it has an ubu-nakago with one mekugi-ana. The tang has a pronounced ha-agari kurijiri and faint kiri-yasurime can be made out.

Picture 3: jûyô-bunkazai, tachi, mei: Yoshiie saku (吉家作), nagasa 74.5 cm, sori 2.3 cm, motohaba 2.7 cm, sakihaba 1.9 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [former heirloom of the Shimazu family]

The blade shown in picture 3 is attributed to Sanjô Yoshiie but if you look at the yakiba as a whole, it is relative wide and magnificent and although the sugata is indeed elegant, it has also a magnificent feel that rather speaks for Kamakura than Heian. The jigane is a dense ko-itame with fine ji-nie and the hamon a densely arranged and nie-laden ko-midare mixed with chôji and ko-ashi/ The bôshi is midare-komi and the tang that is somewhat suriage shows shallow katte-sagari yasurime. So this could well be an earler Fukuoka-Ichimonji work what makes me think that maybe there was even an third, a Ko-Ichimonji Yoshiie whose existence could easily explain these intermediate interpretations and edge cases. And last but not least I want to show you in pictures 4 and 5 two of those Yoshiie blades that are today attributed to the Fukuoka-Ichimonji smith. The first one shows a flamboyant ô-chôji-midare with a prominent midare-utsuri and just by looking at the hamon at a glance you surely would not think of a late Heian Yamashiro work.

Picture 4: tachi, mei: Yoshiie saku (吉家作), nagasa 76.1 cm, sori 2.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mun [former heirloom of the Chichibunomiya (秩父宮) family]

Picture 5: jûyô-bunkazai, tachi, mei: Yoshiie saku (吉家作), nagasa 70.4 cm, sori 1.1 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, dense itame with ji-nie and a clearly visible midare-utsuri, ko-midare in ko-nie-deki mixed with gunome along the upper half and with chôji-midare along the haki-omote side, also some kawazu-no-ko chôji in places, the ha is altogether rather flamboyant but does not have that many ups and downs

  *

So in conclusion I tend to think for the time being that there was a Sanjô Yoshiie and a Fukuoka-Ichimonji Yoshiie and that the former was, if at all, the grandson of Munechika and not his son as his works are just too far away from the highly classical, “ancient” interpretations of Munechika. Well, there is another thing that complicates the matter. If Sanjô Yoshiie was the son or grandson of Munechika, then his works should be somewhat more classical or at least on the same level as those of Gojô Kanenaga (兼永) and Kuninaga (国永). And when you take a look at these Gojô works (I will talk about them in one of the next posts), it seems in their case too that we are facing a few different approaches in workmanship or aesthetics. That means, some of them are highly classical whilst others show prominent gunome and/or chôji and look like early Kamakura works at a glance. And that makes me think that either these smiths, i.e. Gojô Kanenaga and Kuninaga and Sanjô Yoshiie, made at some time a great progress in their craft, or that there was one or two more generations active of each of these smiths. Well, this is just a thought and not substantiated by any deeper studies but the gap of not only age but also of refinement in craftsmanship between these smiths and Munechika who was supposedly their father or teacher puzzles me. Dating the Gojô smiths and Yoshiie to the end of the Heian period would make sense to me as that would allow us to accept that they might have worked right into early Kamakura. But this would mean that we also must date Munechika later what in turn does not go in accordance with his blades as they indeed look significantly older and nothing like transition from Heian to Kamakura. You can now see the problem we have with these early smiths and their handed down active periods and if you want to read a little more about these difficulties, I did a write-up on Ô-Kanehira a while ago here that deals with the same issues. Anyway, I will be back in a little and introduce some more Sanjô smiths before we arrive at their offshoot, the Gojô school.

First of all, I have to apologize, again, for the troubles with the latest Japan’s Most Important Sword Fittings booklet. It is like with my Masamune book, no whatsoever system changes here and black and white books work perfectly fine, e.g. no problem my three-volume, 1,500 pages Swordsmith Index. It only concerns color prints. But anyway, the problem should be solved now and a new order can be placed. I have to see how to solve this in the future because this time, I waited the suggested time until the file was fully processed on their servers to see if it worked before making the announcement. I was even waiting another day, to be sure, just to get their error message the night after… So next time, I will wait even longer before making any announcement.

Other thing and something positive: By sponsoring of James Lawson, the NBTHK Shinsa standards for swords on nihontocraft.com were completed with the standards for tôsô (koshirae) and tôsôgu, and not only that, also the very recent amendments (May 2015) are now included. The standards can be found here:

http://nihontocraft.com/2015_NBTHK_Nionto_Tosogu_Shinsa_Standards.html

Thank you.

Some of you who are also on the NMB might remember this great post from a while ago. After Chris made nihontô enthusiasts aware of the many digitized online references that come free of charge, I got quote some inquiries about adding indices to some of these sources or rather as copyright has expired anyway, to provide some full translations. And as you know, your wish is my command. So over the months, I started to tackle Ogura Sô’emon Yôkichi’s Akasaka Tankô Roku and Wada Tsunashirô’s Sôken Kinkô Zufu but I didn’t want to make a booklet or a PDF that you have to use at the side and where you have to work again with two things. No, I wanted to provide a single and complete copy or eBook that works by itself. Accordingly, I added all the pics (which are digitally enchanced in Wada’s Sôken Kinkô Zufu). So if you are interested, you can get these two and their eBook versions via the links below. I priced them according to what I think is fair for to the translation/compilation work I have invested. If you are fine with Japanese or just want to browse through the pics from time to time, you will find all related links along the NMB thread. Thank you for your attention.

Akasaka Tanko Roku

E Akasaka Tanko Roku

Soken Kinko Zufu

E Soken Kinko Zufu

With this chapter, I would like to close on the Sanjô School. Apart from Munechika and a few blades of (one) Yoshiie that are most likely Sanjô works, there are really not that many blades extant from this school. One Sanjô smith by whom at least a handful of works are known is Chikamura (近村) who is traditionally listed as son of Munechika. Well, some sources say he was the son of Yoshiie and the grandson of Munechika and in terms of workmanship, his blades come indeed pretty close to those of Gojô Kanenaga (兼永) who was the son of Munechika’s son Arikuni (有国) and Munechika’s grandson accordingly. In terms of sugata, Chikamura’s blades show an elegant and conspicuously curved tachi-sugata that is typical for early Yamashiro works but they are not that slender as those of Munechika. So we have here again a certain gap that speaks more for the grandson than for the son approach. The probably most famous blade of Chikamura is the one that was once preserved in the Tanzan-jinja (談山神社, Nara) and that went into the possession of the Imperial family before it was transferred into the Tôkyô National Museum where it is preserved today (picture 1). It shows a somewhat standing-out itame with ji-nie and a ko-midare in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with many ko-ashi and yô, kinsuji, and nijûba along the monouchi. The nioiguchi is rather subdued and hajimi appear in places but it has to be mentioned that the blade is a little tired. The bôshi is sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri and shows some nijûba too. The tang is ubu, tapers to a shallow kurijiri, shows kiri-yasurime, and bears over the mekugi-ana a large and finely chiselled niji-mei that is positioned more towards the nakago-mune.

Picture 1: tachi, mei “Chikamura” (近村), nagasa 78.1 cm, sori 2.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

In picture 2, that shows another signed Chikamura tachi, you can seen some remnants of the “multi-layered” aproach of Munechika but not that “extreme” as it is the case at the Sanjô founder. On the other hand, Chikamura’s blades have in general a more ancient feel than those of Yoshiie and if I had to decide whether Chikamura or Yoshiie was the son of Munechika, I would go for Chikamura for the time being. The blade seen in picture 2 shows an itame with plenty of ji-nie and chikei. The hamon is nie-laden ko-midare that is mixed with kinsuji, yubashiri and plenty of sunagashi. The bôshi is a narrow sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri. The tang is a little machi-okuri, has a shallow kurijiri, katte-sagari yasurime, and bears just like the former gyobutsu a large and fine, ancient looking niji-mei that was chiselled above the initial mekugi-ana and towards the nakago-mune.

Picture 2: tachi, mei “Chikamura” (近村), nagasa 68.8 cm, sori 2.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

When we are talking about Chikamura, the famous mei has to be mentioned that gave birth to some controversial theories in the Meiji era. The original signature was “Chikamura tatematsuru” (近村上), “offered/presented by Chikamura” (i.e. either to a high-ranking client or to a religious facility), but someone later added the character for “Mune” atop of it to allude to Munechika and to create the mei (宗近村上). This mei was then interpreted by some as “Munechika Murakami,” i.e. the character “mura” (村) from Chikamura and the character “tatematsuru” (上) which also reads “kami” were interpreted as the family name Murakami and the theory was forwarded that this must had been Munechika’s family name. But comparative studies have shown that, as mentioned, the character for “Mune” was a later add-on as another blade of Chikamura was discovered that was signed “Chikamura tatematsuru” (see picture 3). Incidentally, this kind of mei is not that uncommon. For example, there are also offering/presentation blades with the prefix or suffix tatematsuru extant by Rai Kunimitsu and Fukuoka-Ichimonji Sukeyoshi (助吉).

Picture 3: The enlarged Chikamura mei right and the other “Chikamura tatematsuru” mei left.

Well, when it comes to Chikamura and to several of the other Sanjô smiths – first of all Yoshiie as mentioned in the last chapter – we are facing one interesting similaritiy, namely that were homonymous early Bizen smiths active for many of them. For example, there was a Ko-Bizen Chikamura who worked, depending on source, around Genkyû (元久, 1204-1206) or Bunryaku (文暦, 1234-1235). The same goes for Munetoshi (宗利), Muneyasu (宗安), Munenori (宗則), Sanenori (真則), and Sanetoshi (真利). And then there were the two smiths who had a certain relation to Kawachi province, Arikuni (有国) and Arinari (有成), who are listed as students or sons of Munechika. So some say that Arinari came originally from the northern Ôshû Môgusa group and that he went to Kyôto to study with Munechika before he eventually settled in Kawachi. And Arikuni was either a student who moved later to Kawachi where he studied with Arinari or that there were two Arikuni, a Sanjô smith who never left Kyôto and a Kawachi smith who belonged to the school of Arinari and who was not directly connected to Munechika. Another interesting coincidence is that several of the early northern Ôshû smihs are listed as having moved down to Bizen where they acted as co-founders of the Ko-Bizen group. For example, Arinari’s initial master Arimasa (有正) was, according to tradition, also the master (or even father) of the famous Ko-Bizen Masatsune (正恒). This suggests that either (a) these northern Môgusa smiths were much more predominant than we think of them today and spread to all provinces where they greatly contributed to the establishment of the most renowned schools (e.g. Sanjô, Ko-Bizen), or (b) that at least some of the early Yamashiro smiths moved later to Bizen province, (c) that all these identical smith names are just a big coincidence, or (d) that some of these homonymous smiths were later “invented” by chroniclers to establish certain connections or fill genealogic gaps.

Picture 4: tachi, mumei, Ishikirimaru, attributed to Kawachi/Sanjô Arinari, nagasa 76.1 cm, sori 2.5 cm, preserved in the Ishikiritsurugiya-jinja (石切剣箭神社, Ôsaka)

Anyway, as far as all the other recorded Sanjô smiths are concerned, there are as mentiond in the beginning next to zero works of them extant. One of the several swords nicknamed Ishikirimaru (石切丸) is attributed to Arinari (see picture 4). So there is not much to add from a kantei point of view, except for the fact that it is anyway extremely unlikely to come across one of these earliest Yamashiro blades in the wild (and outside of Japan). For an overview of the Sanjô School and also in view to the upcoming chapter that deals with the Gojô School, I add their common genealogy below.

Genealogy Sanjo/Gojo Scjool

Inspired by an article that appeared in the Tôken Bijutsu about a year ago and on which I will elaborate in the second part of this post, I was once again reflecting on the entire topic of the wakizashi (脇指・脇差). Well, due to the nature of the article, I was first focusing on mere blade lengths and restrictions but as my thoughts were spreading wider and wider, I thought it might be a good idea to write all that down in order to provide a general overview of this sword type. I guess when the term wakizashi is dropped, most of us automatically think of the shorter twin brother of the katana that represents one half of the famous daishô (大小) sword pair. Also many know that the wakizashi emerged sometime during the Muromachi period and that later on, it was so to speak the “maximum” of a sword a civil person was allowed to carry. This is all correct, so nothing has to be set straight right away, but the matter is of course much more complex. First of all, some etymological explanations. In earlier times, especially before entering the mid to later Muromachi period, the term katana (刀) was not referring to the katana as we know it today but to a short, dagger-sized and single-edged blade, or to a dagger in general if you want, and was mostly used as suffix (also with the Sino-Japanese reading tô) in a compound term. For example, in historic sources we find terms like koshigatana (腰刀), uchigatana (打刀), tsubagatana (鐔刀), futokorogatana (懐刀), chiisagatana (小サ刀), wakigatana (脇刀), kogatana (小刀), or shôtô (小刀). From the context we often get a pretty good idea about what kind of sword or dagger was meant but many entries are ambiguous, e.g. when a later edition of a work quotes the very same paragraph with a different term than the initial one. The matter is further complicated by the fact that some terms were just used interchangably and that there were no universal dictionaries that defined terms and made their use mandatory, at least not until rather recent times. The first real scientific approaches that tried to put all that together, i.e. doing etymoligical studies and comparative researches of the sources, do not date before the mid-Edo period. So we are entirely relying to context interpretations of the original sources on the one hand, and on the more or less accurate views and interpretations of Edo period experts on the other hand. And with experts I mean that the Edo period scholars who wrote down their definitions were usually not sword but military historians and experts on the warrior class. Also important to note is that when reading their texts, we learn that by the mid-Edo period, that means at a time when the country had seen no larger battle for at least over a century, a great deal of sword and armor knowledge of the past had already been lost as some of them openly admit that they are merely guessing on what certain elements and features were for or how and by whom certain sword forms were worn and used. But we are not entirely groping in the dark, that means due to many many studies we have today a quite decent overview of what was going on in terms of swords for each era.

Actually, it is all not that complicated if you leave aside the Japanese terms for the time being and think in general sword/weapon terms. The pre-Edo period warrior, i.e. we are talking about the times before the big regulations came into play with the Tokugawa-bakufu, had (when it comes to swords) basically the following options: Long sword, shorter side, companion or ersatz sword, and dagger. It was now up to the rank, wealth, social status, field of application of his military unit, occasion, and other factors for what sword or what combination of swords a warrior was going. Over time, different terms came into use to refer to different interpretations and to different fields of application but basically they were all just talking about the one or other of these basic three sword types or sword combinations. All that we have to do is to find out what time, what clientele or wearer (aristocracy, bushi, or civilan class), and what occasion (e.g. battle, ceremony, civil service, private life) we are facing to break down the different terms. So there were approaches to classify these three sword types according to length, or to blade length to be precise, what resulted in the umbrella terms daitô (大刀) for the long sword, shôtô (小刀) for the shorter side, companion or ersatz sword, and tantô (短刀) for the dagger. Others tackled this need for proper naming from the point of view of use and introduced the term honzashi (also pronounced honsashi) (本差) for the the main, the longer sword, and the terms wakizashi (脇指・脇差), wakigatana (脇刀), wakimono (脇物), or sashizoe (差添), for the companion or ersatz sword. Incidentally, it is assumed that the terms wakizashi and wakigatana were actually shorter forms of the term wakizashi no katana (脇差の刀), for example noted that way in the late 14^th century epic Taiheiki (太平記) wherein we read that “[when the tip of Fuchibe’s sword broke,] he threw it away and drew his companion sword” (sono katana o nagesute, wakizashi no katana o nuite, その刀を投げ捨て、脇差の刀を抜いて). And as the text is referring to the person in question wearing the other sword in a pocket at his chest, we learn that the ersatz sword was in this case a dagger and not a wakizashi-length companion sword. So as mentioned, we are talking about (more or less neutral) umbrella terms and terms like honzashi or wakizashi do not make clear without context to what kind of sword they are referring to, only that it was either the main or the side/companion/ersatz sword.

Picture 1: Higher ranking samurai wearing an ô-yoroi.

Back to the sword form wakizashi. Companion swords were worn early on to the main sword when going into battle. The main sword had, as far as battles are concerned, always been the tachi (and later on to a certain extent also the uchigatana) and the companion sword was by default a dagger. Please note that I stick to the Japanese way of addressing and also refer to daggers as “swords” in the first place. Well, some bushi opted for longer companion/ersatz swords, occasionally even to go with rather than instead of the initial companion dagger, and it is assumed that the origins of this trend have to be found within the turmoils of the Sengoku era. With all that had happened after things were escalating in Kyôto during the Ônin War, warriors of all ranks were eager not to be caught off guard at any time and have an “as full as possible” ersatz sword in case something happened with the main sword. Let me demonstrate that on the basis of some illustrations as a picture is worth a thousand words. In picture 1 we see the so to speak default armament of a mid to higher ranking mounted warrior throughout all periods. The armor and armor parts changed of course over time so please don’t pay too much attention to details of the armor shown. As you can see, the warrior is wearing a tachi suspended from the belt via two hangers and a companion sword, in this case a koshigatana-style dagger, that is thrusted through the belt. The bow was the main weapon, the tachi was for for attacking and defending at closer ranges (and of course for possible duels), and the dagger was an allpurpose “tool” and used as last resort in hand-to-hand combat and when the tachi was, for whatever reason, not available or applicable.

Picture 2: Warriors wearing companion swords that are conspicuously longer than daggers.

Picture 3: Uchigatana in aikuchi-style mounting intended to be worn thrusted edge-up through the belt as companion sword to the tachi.

Picture 2 now shows about how the Muromachi-period trend of wearing longer side swords had looked like. These swords were pretty much what we understand today of early wakizashi but please note that back then, the term wakizashi was a more neutral one as for example also an uchigatana mounted with a 70 cm long blade could have come under the category of side/companion/ersatz sword. To avoid confusion, it has become custom to refer to these longer swords by their other term sashizoe instead of wakizashi but strictly speaking, something like seen in picture 2 would come, when worn with the tachi, under the category of a wakizashi as it was not the main sword. Well, it is unclear when the term wakizashi became synonymous for companion swords that were in terms of length somewhere in between the main, i.e. the long sword and the dagger but reading between the lines of historic documents and analyzing their context, it seems that this “shift” in meaning took place sometime between the Momoyama and the early Edo period. Probably this was connected to the development of the “civilian samurai uniform” consisting of a kataginu/hakama ensemble and a pair of swords thrusted edge-up through the belt that took place at that very time (please see here for additional information). It was namely then when a quasi more standardized side sword started to form, or in other words, with entering the Edo period and the establishment of the daishô, it was no longer ambiguous to what kind of sword the term “side/companion word” was referring to and so the neutral term wakizashi slowly became the synonym for the smaller companion sword of the sword pair. And with that we are right at where for the first time nationwide sophisticated sword laws were issued.

So with the establishment of the Tokugawa-bakufu, the Tokugawa government regulated now very strictly all swords, i.e. how long a sword had to be, who was allowed to wear what kind of sword, and when certain swords had to be worn by whom. The honzashi of the samurai, i.e. the katana, was limited to a blade length of 2 shaku 8 sun (~ 84.8 cm) and the wakizashi to 1 shaku 8 sun (~ 54.5 cm). However, these measurements were slightly adjusted later. In the eighth year of Kanbun (寛文, 1668), the Tokugawa-bakufu issued the so-called mutô-rei (無刀令) with which it prohibited all persons not belonging to the samurai class to wear swords with a blade length over that of a ko-wakizashi (小脇指). Therefore a ko-wakizashi blade was determined to measure maximally 1 shaku 5 sun (~ 45.5 cm). Later this law was relaxed and so travellers of the partial dangerous Tôkaidô – the then main road between Kyôto and Edo – were allowed to wear swords with a nagasa up to 1 shaku 8 sun (so to speak a wakizashi instead of a ko-wakizashi) for their self-defence. So basically the Tokugawa government was saying that as a civilian, you were legally maximally allowed to carry the side/companion sword of a samurai. Everything between a wakizashi and a honzashi, i.e. a sword with a blade length of 54.5 to 60.6 cm, was classified as ô-wakizashi (大脇指). Please note that these measurements varied over time. For example, we also find law texts wherein a ko-wakizashi is defined as measuring maximally 1 shaku 3 sun (~ 39.4 cm) instead of the aforementioned 1 shaku 5 sun (~ 45.5 cm). Also please note that for wakizashi that measured in between a ko-wakizashi and an ô-wakizashi, also the more specific term of chû-wakizashi (中脇指) existed.

But although these laws sound quite strict, the transition between ko-wakizashi, chû-wakizashi, and ô-wakizashi were fluid and even if the eyes were surely on the bushi who were walking through the streets of Edo during their sankin-kôtai stay, there was no official “sword police” going through the rural fiefs making all samurai unsheath their swords and measure the nagasa of their mounted blade. So basically it was like no plaintiff, no judge and when there was no sword incident caused by a civilian that had to be officially investigated, it can be assumed that no one would take notice if you wore a chû-wakizashi instead of a ko-wakizashi on one particular day. When I say “sword incident caused by a civilian,” I am also referring to the fact that civilians were not only allowed to arm themselves with wakizashi because of robbers and similar risks but also to defend themselves against members of the samurai class who were going to make (unjustified) use of their right of kirisute-gomen (切捨御免), their right to strike with sword anyone of a lower class who compromised their honor. Parallel to the rigid hierarchic social class structure that was eventually cemented in the Edo period, underground organizations and outlaws were emerging in not to be underestimated numbers. There were for example gamblers (bakuto, 博徒) and peddlers (tekiya, 的屋) whose partially strict internal codes made them the predecessors of the modern yakuza. “Heroic” members of these groups who defended the “poor” townsmen against unlawful and arbitrary acts of local samurai were romantized as kyôkaku (侠客), lit. “men of chivalry.” Of couse these kyôkaku did not follow the law and as they actually saw themselves as “Robin Hoods,” they were wearing longer than allowed (often handachi-style mounted) wakizashi (see picture 4), which were not named ô-wakizashi but naga-wakizashi (長脇指・長脇差) in this context. In addition and in order to restore local peace, the bakufu had sometimes no other choice than granting the heads of these “organizations” certain rights so that they were at least able to keep other underground groups in check, and one of these rights was actually the permission to carry a naga-wakizashi instead of a ko-wakizashi. As you can see, the bakufu sometimes rather preferred to turn a blind eye to certain things as long as they were no longer bothered with it. Incidentally, these kyôkaku were thus also referred to as naga-wakizashi, i.e. about “those with the long wakizashi.” As these naga-wakizashi were from their outward appearance pretty much identical to a katana, also terms like ipponzashi (一本差) and ippongatana (一本刀) came in use to refer to the kyôkaku. These terms have to be understood as allusion to the term nihonzashi (二本差), lit. “the two sworders” or “the two-sword-wearers,” which was another name for a member of the samurai class.

Picture 4: Tattooed kyôkaku with a handachi-style mounted naga-wakizashi.

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But naga-wakizashi were not only worn by outlaws. They could also have been the choice for a samurai who preferred to wear, for whatever reason, a longer sword pair. And with this we arrive at part two of this post. Sometimes it is hard to tell if a shinogi-zukuri blade, or a shinogi-zukuri shintô or shinshintô blade in particular, that measures slightly less or slightly over 2 shaku was intended as katana or as wakizashi. As mentioned earlier, transitions were fluid and the historic sword order I am introducing next is an important reference as it does not leave any doubt about what we are facing. It is a sword order placed by the Saga fief to two of their smiths, the 2^nd generation Kawachi no Kami Masahiro (正広, 1627-1699) and the 4^th generation Tadayoshi (忠吉, 1669-1747), who are addressed as Hashimoto Kawachi (橋本河内) and Hashimoto Shinzaburô (橋本新三郎) respectively, and reads:

Picture 5: Extant sword order from the archives of the Masahiro lineage (preserved in the Saga Prefecture Library (佐賀県立図書館).

並鍛長脇差注文
一　長サ　弐尺壱寸七分　弐腰
一　反　　少しすくめニ
一　刃　　得手次第
右之通壱腰宛急度出来
打立可被差上候　以上
戌ノ
霜月六日　牟田七郎左衛門
橋本河内殿
橋本新三郎殿

Namigitae naga-wakizashi chûmon
• nagasa 2 shaku 1 sun 7 bu – futakoshi
• sori sukoshi sukume ni
• ha ete shidai
Migi no tôri hitokoshi ate kitto deki 
uchitate sashiagarubeshi-sôrô, ijô.
inu no
shimotsuki muika Muta Shichirôzaemon
Hashimoto Kawachi dono
Hashimoto Shinzaburô dono 

Order for ordinary forging quality naga-wakizashi:
• two blades with a nagasa of 65.7 cm
• sori rather on the shallow side
• ha(mon) dependent upon the forte of the smith
Please make each sword according to these points.
Year of the dog (Genroku seven, 1694)
Sixth day of the eleventh month, Muta Shichirôzaemon (probably an official of the Saga fief)
to Mr. Hashimoto Kawachi
to Mr. Hashimoto Shinzaburô

Picture 6: 2^nd generation Hizen Masahiro.

Hizen mainline swords in particular are very good for distinguishing between short katana and oversized wakizashi as their tangs were strictly finished according to the intended use. This means, blades that were intended as long swords or honzashi, in short as katana, were signed in tachi-mei, i.e. on the side of the tang that faces towards the wearer when wearing the mounted sword thrusted edge-up through the belt. Apart from that, the tangs of honzashi were finished with a somewhat roundish nakago-mune. Wakizashi in turn were signed in katana-mei and finished with a flat nakago-mune. So if you find a Hizen-tô with a nagasa of about 2 shaku and you are not sure if it is a katana or a wakizashi, check for these two features and they tell you exactly what the sword initially was.

As for the wakizashi-sized blades in general, there are certain rules of the thumb that can be applied to find out what the sword initially was. If you have a shinogi-zukuri shôtô that is obviously longer than dagger (e.g. sunnobi-tantô) size and shorter than katana size and that dates from the early to the late Muromachi period, you can assume that it was worn as wakizashi or sashizoe just like shown in picture 2. And the longer the blade, the more likely it is that they were mounted with a tsuba. If the blade is shorter and in hira-zukuri, it was probably worn as koshigatana like shown in picture 1. Please note that there were also longer, for example 45~50 cm measuring shôtô in hira-zukuri worn as wakizashi/sashizoe. Now with the approaching the Momoyama era, chances are increasing that a shinogi-zukuri shôtô was worn as wakizashi to the civilian samurai uniform. If you have a later Muromachi blade but that predates the Momoyama era and that measures somewhere around or slighty lesser than 2 shaku and comes with a relative short nakago, you are most likely facing a katateuchi. Katateuchi were intended for single-handed use, thrusted edge-up through the belt, and often worn as wakizashi/sashizoe to the honzashi, the tachi. So these blades too were worn just like shown in picture 2, although with the difference that katateuchi were by default mounted with a tsuba. Entering the Edo period, it is, as indicated, sometimes hard or even impossible to tell if a blade that measures somewhere around 2 shaku was ordered by a member of the samurai class to be his hon or his wakizashi. Many factors like personal preferences, body height, fencing style and so on come into play that might have influenced his choice of wearing an over or an undersized daishô pair. Also it is very difficult to tell in concrete numbers how strong the “impact” of kyôkaku and other outlaws were on the output of around 2 shaku measuring blades but the fact that the term naga-wakizashi was synonymously in use to refer to these guys suggests that there must had been a considerable number of such blades made for them.

Picture 7: Wearing the kodachi.

And then there is another category of swords that must be addressed when talking about side swords, and that is the kodachi (小太刀), the lit. “small tachi.” A theory says that the kodachi was born from the necessity that aristocrats wanted longer blades than koshigatana to wear in coaches (kuruma, 車) for their self-defence, i.e. after having handed over the main sword, the tachi, to the sword bearer. Therefore also the terms kuruma-gatana (車刀) and kuruma-dachi (車太刀) were in existence for shorter swords which were no daggers. Kodachi blades measure somewhere between 1 shaku 7 sun (51.5 cm) and 2 shaku (60.6 cm) and what distinguished them from contemporary uchigatana was that they were interpreted in shinogi-zukuri and basically maintained the proportions of a tachi. Uchigatana in turn were made prior to Muromachi times in hira-zukuri and were usually rather wide. Well, some speculate that kodachi were smaller tachi of the younger sons of the aristocracy or higher-ranking bushi (or especially for their genpuku ceremony) whilst others even assume that they were worn by women. The former approach and the approach that kodachi were alternative swords of higher-ranking persons is supported by the fact that many of the extant and unaltered kodachi were made by great master smiths, although it is of course quite possible that all the others, i.e. the ones that were not cherished as treasures, were just lost over time. Interesting is that also the term hakizoe-kodachi (佩き添え小太刀) existed what means that some kodachi were worn – edge down suspended from the belt as the prefix haki (佩き) implies – worn as side/companion/ersatz sword to a honzashi. Problem again is here the very limited evidence base, and that is especially true for kodachi-koshirae. But it is most likely that the kodachi was worn as seen in picture 7, i.e. with a simple hanger-system to formal and semi-formal outfits. One of the major references in this respect is the signed kodachi by Rai Kunitoshi (来国俊) that was once offered with its koshirae to the Futarasan-jinja (二荒山神社, Tochigi Prefecture). As experts assume that the mounting is original to the blade, the sword as a whole, i.e. not only the blade, was designated as kokuhô. The koshirae is interpreted in hirumaki style (蛭巻), that means hilt and saya were spirally wrapped with leather which was lacquered black. The fittings are of yamagane and the fukurin of the tsuba, the seppa, and the kabutogane were gilded. The area between the two ashi hangers bears a red-lacquer inscription which reads: “Kishin-tatematsuru Kaneko Genchû + kaô” (奉寄進金子玄忠). So it is assumed that this Genchû was the one who offered the sword to the shrine and that he was one of the ancestors of the Kaneko Tôdayû (金子頭太夫) family which later held one of the shrine offices. Very interesting historical piece but way too unique to draw conclusions on the appearance of kodachi in general.

Picture 7: kokuhô, kodachi, mei: “Rai Kunitoshi” (来国俊), nagasa 54.4 cm, sori 1.67 cm, motohaba 2.3 cm, sakihaba 1.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, very dense and fine ko-itame with ji-nie, suguha in ko-nie-deki with a rather tight nioiguchi, ko-ashi, sunagashi, and kinsuji.

Picture 8: kokuhô, kuro-urushi hirumaki tachi-koshirae (黒漆蛭巻太刀拵), overall length 88.8 cm

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I hope I was able to give you a decent insight into the vast world of the side sword, the wakizashi, and I should be back in a little with the next part of the Kantei series.

I just want to give you another short update on my upcoming Gendaito book. As some of you already know via direct correspondence with me, I had to rethink and postpone the project due to an unexpected “setback” when it comes to references. This of course does not apply do those who already and unhesitantly shared their information with me and who offered me further support when the project is entering the final and crucial phase of writing. But I have collected enough so far and kind of started to sort out data a while ago. After finishing my revised Swordsmiths of Japan and taking the info on the gendai guys therein as a basis, I arrived at about 1,100 smiths for the upcoming book. Of course I will not have pictures and reference blades/oshigata for all of them. Also I had to sort out whom to include and whom not and came to the following conclusion: Included will only be smiths whose career (or major part of the career) started after the ban on wearing swords (1876) as there were just too many shinshintô smiths active who were still making swords in the early years of the Meiji era and who I don’t want to include as they really don’t classify as gendaitô smiths. Also I will not include smiths whose career only started after WWII. But there might be some exceptions to these limits. Apart from that, I was experimenting with the layout and came to the conslusion that the book has to be two-part, that means it will consist of a large picture reference part and a part with basic info on those smiths of whom I don’t have any blade pictures of. Both parts will be structured alphabetically and aim of the second part is, as good as possible, not to leave any smith out. So the two pictures below are a very first attempt to see how this all might look like in the end. So to all of the gendaitô collectors out there, there is still enough time to give me feedback and forward me material as the crucial writing phase will not be started for a while. Also please note that in case you send me files, descriptions and further info to “gendaitoproject@gmail.com” (and I would appreciate that everything is going there and not to my regular address), everything is gathered there fore the time being and I will only reply later on to say thank you (and if there are further questions). Oh, and if anybody wants to financially support the preparative work on this project in the form of a small donation, what would be very very much appreciated, there is a humble button at the very end of this site for this ;) Thank you all for your attention!

We have arrived at the one and only direct Sanjô offshoot, the Gojô School. According to tradition and as seen in the Sanjô Genealogy presented here, the offshoot was founded by Sanjô Arikuni’s (有国) son Kanenaga (兼永) who lived and worked in the vicinity of Kyôto’s Gojô axis, what earned the school its name. Traditionally Kanenaga is dated around Chôgen (長元, 1028-1037) but what has to be seen in the context of bringing him in about “grandson-distance” to Munechika who, as we know, is traditionally dated around Ei’en (永延, 987-989). Before we continue I have to address an obvious thing, and that is the course of this series. As you can easily see, talking about the early schools – i.e. everything that comes with a “Ko-” prefix (like here Ko-Kyô-mono) – means dealing with a big lack of extant references. So no one can avoid making his or her way, hand over hand, along the very same few blades and matching them as good as possible with the written references (which on top of that differ from each other). Apart from that, the historic references were often written in a rather flowery style and early oshigata were highly subjective copies of a blade’s characteristics. In addition, there had been this “need” among upper (warrior or aristocratic) classes from the earliest times on for having swords by certain famous master in their collection. This lead to many counterfeit signatures and attributions of unsigned blades to famous names which in turn later entered the annals as alleged original references themselves. And when we combine all this, it should be easy to imagine that we are facing a huge hodgepodge of data and it is not surprising that many unsigned blades that are attributed to a certain smith or school do not really match the interpretations of the very few extant signed specimen.

Picture 1: The two “unshakeable” Kanenaga mei; left the jûyô-bunkazai, right the jûyô-bijutsuhin

As for Kanenaga, there are only five signed blades extant, or just two if you rule out the three where only the character for “Kane” is left (at two of them the blade is shortened up to the character of “Kane,” both are jûyô, and at the other one, which is tokubetsu-jûyô, only the “Kane” character is illegible of the niji-mei). The two “unshakeable” ones are designated as jûyô-bunkazai and as jûyô-bijutsuhin respectively whereas they signature differs (see picture 1). The former is signed in an overall somewhat larger manner than the latter and also the lower part part of the character “Kane” (兼) is chiselled in a different manner. The jûyô-bunkazai tachi (picture 2) is slender and has a deep koshizori with funbari and a ko-kissaki. The kitae is a dense ko-itame with plenty of ji-nie, fine chikei, and faint nie-utsuri. The hamon is a ko-chôji in ko-nie-deki with a rather wide nioiguchi that is mixed with ko-midare, ko-gunome, ko-ashi, and kinsuji. The bôshi is sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri, nijûba, and hakikake. The tang is entirely ubu and has a kurijiri and one mekugi-ana. The blade has an elegant and very classical shape but again we have here (see chapter on Sanjô Yoshiie) some characteristics that make one think of Bizen, for example the relative large amount of “real” chôji (i.e. not just chôji ashi along a suguha-chô but “actively” protruding chôji tassels), especially along the monouchi where the hamon shows conspicuous ups and downs. So the overall quite sophisticated interpretation of the jiba speaks on the one hand for a later production time, i.e. rather early Kamakura than mid-Heian, but the classical shape and the nijûba along the bôshi which tie the blade to the Sanjô school on the other hand speak for Heian. Thus we maybe meet in the middle, which would be late to very end of Heian.

Picture 2: jûyô-bunkazai, tachi, mei “Kanenaga” (兼永), nagasa 77.1 cm, sori 2.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [owned by the NBTHK, former collection of Kimura Tokutarô (木村篤太郎, 1886-1982)]

I don’t have any information on the jûyô-bijutsuhin so I want to focus on the tokubetsu-jûyô of which the second character is illegible but which is otherwise ubu. Please note that the NBTHK is, as often in such high spheres, careful and gives an attribution to Gojô as there also other Gojô artists active whose names start with “Kane,” e.g. Kanetsugu (兼次) and Kaneyasu (兼安). Well, these smiths quasi only exist on paper as no signed blades are extant by them, but it is true, you just can’t make a straightforward Kanenaga attribution if you are not entirely sure. So the tokubetsu-jûyô (picture 3) also has an elegant sugata with a strong koshizori, funbari, and a ko-kissaki. The jigane is an itame with ji-nie and a faint nie-utsuri. The hamon shows this time not so many chôji. It is a suguha-chô in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with ko-chôji, ko-midare, and plenty of ashi and yô. The nioiguchi is rather tight but tends to be dull along the monouchi. The bôshi is sugu with a short ko-maru-kaeri.

Picture 3: tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Kane…” (兼◯), nagasa 77.4 cm, sori 1.9 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

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Now to Kanenaga’s alleged son Kuninaga (国永) with whom we are facing the very same difficulties. He is listed, as mentioned, as son of Kanenaga but some see him as his younger brother. Traditionally he is dated around Tengi (天喜, 1053-1058) but problem here is that several of Kuninaga’s works even look a hint more classical (i.e. old) than works of Kuninaga. But again, evidence base is very limited. As for “unshakeable” signed Kuninaga works, there are only six known, and within these six, we can make out four different signature variants with experts being in disagreement on the dating or attribution to different craftsmen and/or generations. Let’s start with Kuninaga’s famous work, the imperial treasure (gyobutsu) Tsurumaru-Kuninaga (鶴丸国永) (see picture 4), whose mei makes up one of the four categories by itself. Well, at least most experts agree that the Tsurumaru is not only the best work of Kuninaga but the best of all Ko-Kyô-mono in existence (and some even say that it is the best Yamashiro work of all). The blade is ubu and kenzen, i.e. in perfect condition, what adds to the value of the piece, and shows an elegant sugata with funbari and a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip. The kitae is a very densely forged ko-itame with fine and beautiful ji-nie and the hamon is a suguha-chô with ko-midare and ko-chôji in thick nioi, plenty of ko-nie, and kinsuji. The bôshi tends to sugu and has a ko-maru-kaeri. So the Tsurumaru shows overall a more sophisticated workmanship than the Mikazuki-Munechika and dates therefore somewhat later.

Picture 4: gyobutsu, tachi, mei “Kuninaga” (国永), meibutsu Tsurumaru-Kuninaga, nagasa 78.8 cm, sori 2.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Category two of the known Kuninaga-mei contains two blades, a tachi that is preserved in the Ise Shrine and a jûyô-bunkazai ken (see picture 5) that was once owned by the tôsôgu expert Kokubo Ken’ichi. Unfortunately, I have no picture of the Ise Shrine blade but want to assume for the time being that the workmanship is similar to that of the ken as also the mei is very similar. My assumption bases on the following two factors: One is the statement of Honma sensei who was of the opinion that the Ise Shrine tachi is the oldest extant signed work of Kuninaga. And the other factor is that we can see a lot of the very classical, “naturally layered” approach of the ha at the ken. This feature can also be seen on the works of Sanjô Munechika what supports an earlier production time. The Ise Shrine tachi is slender and shows a koshizori and a ko-kissaki The kitae is itame that is mixed with ô-hada in places and the hamon is a nie-laden hiro-suguha-chô that is mixed with ko-midare and ko-chôji that comes with a more subdued nioiguchi. The ken shows a noticeable amount of masame along the kitae what makes it kind of yamatoesque. This and the fact that it is, well, an old ken, might add to the subjective “old feel” of the blade and Tanobe sensei assumes that ken had always been forged in a more classical way because making them had a strong religious and ceremonial character and did not leave much artistic freedom or room for trying something new. Apart from that, Tanobe also assumes that the subdued nioiguchi and thus more ancient feeling hamon of the Ise Shrine tachi goes back to a loss of hira-niku and that the hamon might once had been similar to that of the Tsurumaru. And Tsuneishi Hideaki (常石英明), the author of the Nihontô no Kenkyû to Kantei and Nihontô no Kantei to Kansho, even assumes that mei of category two go back to a third generation Kuninaga. Tsuneishi also says that the Tsurumaru-mei dates to the later years of a the first generation Kuninaga.

Picture 5: jûyô-bunkazai, ken, mei “Kuninaga” (国永), nagasa 32.1 cm, ryô-shinogi-zukuri [once owned by Kokubo Ken’ichi]

Also rather classical is the tachi whose mei forms category three. The blade was once a heirloom of the Bizen-Ikeda (備前池田) family and is completely ubu (see picture 6). It is slender, has a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip, funbari, and a ko-kissaki. The kitae is itame and the hamon is a suguha-chô that is mixed with ko-midare and plenty of ha-nie, ashi and yô and that turns into a nidan-ba in places, i.e. a two-layered ha that consists (in this case) of a ko-midare-chô with much nijûba that makes it look like as if a “second” ha, a suguha, runs atop of it. Tsuneishi attributes this blade to the early period of Kuninaga.

Picture 6: tachi, mei “Kuninaga” (国永) [heirloom of the Bizen-Ikeda family]

And category four is formed by two blades, a jûyô-bijutsuhin tachi that was once owned by Itô Miyoji (伊東巳代治, 1857-1934) and a jûyô-bijutsuhin tachi that was once a heirloom of the Uwajima-Date (宇和島伊達) family. Tsuneishi says that the mei of this category go back to the second generation Kuninaga and Tanobe suggests that their workmanship can be considered as a kind of precursor of the later Yamashiro smiths, e.g. Ayanokôji Sadatoshi (綾小路定利) and Awataguchi Kuniyasu (粟田口国安). The tachi of Itô Miyoji (see picture 7) has an elegant sugata with some traces of funbari and shows a very densely forged ko-itame with penty of ji-nie and fine chikei. The hamon is a suguha-chô with ko-midare, plentiful of ko-nie, mixed with ko-chôji, and shows many hataraki in the form of yubashiri and repeated ashi especially in the area of the monouchi at the haki-omote side. In addition there are small and faint yubashiri and tobiyaki which run parallel to the ha but not in a continuous manner. The nioiguchi tends to be subdued. The other jûyô-bijutsuhin, i.e. the one from the possessions of the Uwajima-Date family, is suriage and shows the remnants of a relative wide and deeply cut suken on the one, and a koshibi with atop a bonji on the other side. It has a fine ko-itame with some nagare and plenty of ji-nie and yubashiri which tend to form an utsuri over almost the entire blade. The hamon is a nie-laden ko-chôji with many fine kinsuji and the bôshi is like at the Itô Miyoji blade more calm than the rest of the hamon and appears with as midare-komi with a short ko-maru-kaeri. So all in all, these two blades make with their rather flamboyant hamon a more sophisticated impression than the Bizen-Ikeda blade whereupon I don’t follow the approach of Tsuneishi of the latter being a work of a third, and the former two a work of a second generation, although I tend to think (for the time bing) that there was probably more than one generation Kuninaga as the mei and the workmanship show significant differences.

Picture 7: jûyô-bijutsuhin, tachi, mei “Kuninaga” (国永), nagasa 75.4 cm, sori 2.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [once owned by Itô Miyoji]

Picture 8: jûyô-bijutsuhin, tachi, mei “Kuninaga” (国永), nagasa 69.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [heirloom of the Uwajima-Date family]

For a better overview of all this “confusing” information, I have arranged above a large pic with the four mei categories in its center with all the so-far introduced blades connected to them so that you see it for yourself. So click on it, zoom in, and enjoy J. Last but not least I want to introduce a blade that is attributed to the Gojô school, i.e. not differentiating between Kanenaga and Kuninaga, but which is in my opinion insofar important as it forms kind of a link to the Sanjô school. It shows a nie-laden ko-midare that is mixed with ko-chôji, ko-ashi, fine kinsuji and sunagashi, and prominent yubashiri, nijûba and sanjûba (especially along the upper half of the blade) that create this “layered” appearance, although here no longer as ancient looking as at Munechika (but still pretty much classical). For a more detailed write-up and excellent pictures of the blade and its hataraki (highly recommended), please go to Darcy’s page here. That should do it for today and with the next part we are slowly entering Kamakura times when I will talk about the Ayanokôji school.

Picture 9: jûyô, tachi, mumei “Den Gojô” (伝五条), nagasa 68.7 cm, sori 1.9 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Sadatoshi (定利) is regarded as the de facto founder and, in practical terms, also as the almost solitary representative of the Ayanokôji School. It is not exactly clear where he came from, scholastically speaking, but records say since olden times that he lived in the Ayanokôji district of Kyôto what earned his school or group its name. There is the tradition that Sadatoshi was the son-in-law of a certain Nagamasa (永昌), the legendary ancestor of the school. Some say that Nagamasa came originally from Tôtômi province and then there was also a northern Môgusa smith of the same name who was allegedly active in the late Heian period. As seen in the genealogy presented below, Nagamasa was suceeded by his heir Sukesada (介定) and then Sueyuki (末行) followed as next head Ayanokôji main line. Also we see that as far as records are concerned, the school had quite a wide genealogy and it seems that it must had been very much flourishing back then. But for whatever reason, not a single blade has survived of any other Ayanokôji smith than of Sadatoshi and Sadayoshi (定吉) and “funny” is, that Sadayoshi does not even appear in the earlier genealogies of the school. Another problem we are facing with the Ayanokôji School is that all the handed down active periods seem to be too late. Experts agree in the meanwhile that Sadatoshi was probably active earlier than it is stated in the old records, which date him around Bun’ei (文永, 1264-75). In concrete terms, the shape and first and foremost very classical workmanship of his blades rather suggests early than mid Kamakura. This in turn would place Nagamasa somewhere from the end of the Heian to the early Kamakura period, what matches more with the handed-down active period of Môgusa Nagamasa, Heiji (平治, 1159-1160), than with that of Ayanokôji Nagamasa, which is Kenchô (建長, 1249-1256). The pushing back of Sadatoshi’s handed down active period is also supported by another factor, namely his relation to Rai Kuniyuki (来国行), the earliest Rai smiths of whom works are extant. There are theories that Ayanokôji Sadatoshi and Rai Kuniyuki made daisaku works for each other and that Kuniyuki was Sadatoshi’s son, i.e. that they really worked very closely together. The degree of truth of all that might never be found out but what we can say is that their workmanship has indeed many things in common. And due to a relative good evidence base of dated works of Kuniyuki’s son Kunitoshi, we can date Rai Kuniyuki around Shôgen (正元, 1259-1260) and going from there, again Ayanokôji Sadatoshi’s handed down active period of Bun’ei (文永, 1264-75) seems to be too late as his works are for sure more classic and a little older than that of Rai Kuniyuki. Tanobe sensei sums it up with: “When we take into consideration all extant blades of Sadatoshi, we can see more common points in terms of sugata and jiba with classic Ko-Kyô-mono like Sanjô or Gojô than with Rai Kuniyuki. And the majority of Kuniyuki’s works looks at least one generation younger than those of Sadatoshi. But it is possible that the later active period of Sadatoshi overlapped with the early active period of Kuniyuki.” For the sake of completeness, I also want to forward some other approaches concerning the background of Sadatoshi. It is namely also said that he was the son of the Yamato Senju’in smith Tôgorô Sadamune (藤五郎定宗) who was active around Jôô (貞応, 1222-1224). This would kind of match in terms of his actual active period but there is hardly any Yamato influence seen in Sadatoshi’s blades. Also it is speculated that Sadatoshi might not have been an Ayanokôji smith at all. That means, he rather worked in the vicinity of the early Awataguchi and the very beginning of the Rai School and his only connection to the “real” Ayanokôji School was that he was married to Nagamasa’s daughter and eventually moved to their place in Ayanokôji. In other words, the rather “below-the-radar” group of smiths around Nagamasa and Sukesada that worked in Kyôto’s Ayanokôji only made it into the records because of Nagamasa being connected via his daughter to the, obviously very active and Awataguchi/Rai-related grandmaster Sadatoshi and not the other way round.

GenealogyAyanokoji

Well, the true connections of the earliest Yamashiro smiths might be lost forever in the mists of time so let’s go over to what is tangible, and that is Ayanokôji Sadatoshi’s workmanship. Sadatoshi made tachi with a noticeable taper, funbari, a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip, and that end in a ko-kissaki. So all in all, his tachi are sender and of a very classical elegance. I might sound like a broken record but as long as we find ourselves in pre mid-Kamakura times, we will come over and over again terms like “elegant” and “classical.” Back to Sadatoshi. I have mentioned that we can see similarities in workmanship to Rai Kuniyuki but that does not necessarily apply to the sugata. That means, if you have a blade where you hover between Sadatoshi and Kuniyuki, go back again one step and take another look at the sugata. Kuniyukis tachi, at least those which are interpreted in a more slender manner, don’t taper that much, rather show a torii than a koshizori, and feature a ko-kissaki comes with a hint of chû or ikubi. In short, Sadatoshi’s tachi tend more towards Heian than to mid-Kamakura. As for the jigane, Sadatoshi’s steel is described as toromekite (蕩めきて, lit. “melted, sticky, syrupy”) and nebaki-yô ni mietari (粘きように見たり, lit. “has a sticky/viscous look”) in old sources. That means his jigane looks soft, “sticky” and a little subdued, compared to the bright and clear steel of Awataguchi and Rai works for example. The kitae is an excellently forged itame to ko-itame that can be mixed with some mokume and that shows plenty of ji-nie and occasionally also some fine and unobtrusive chikei. Sometimes the hada also stands out and the ji-nie might tend to nie-utsuri with jifu whereas some works show an approach of shirake. Sadatoshi usually hardened a ko-nie-laden mix of ko-midare, ko-chôji and ko-gunome whose elements are rather densely arranged and might connect to groups of several ko-chôji or ko-gunome in places. Along these connected groups, the ha usually appears as suguha-chô but apart from that, we see ups and downs and also some togari. The nioiguchi as well as the entire ha are altogether rather subdued. In addition, we usually see ko-ashi, yô, fine kinsuji and sunagashi. And the partially connected, partially disconnected, but often quite prominent yubashiri, the small tobiyaki, and the nijûba elements create that classical, “layered” and subjectively ancient look that ties Sadatoshi more to the Sanjô and Gojô Schools than to a technical mid-Kamakura background with its noticeable more sophisticated and magnificent interpretations. Another important kantei point are the mostly strong hakikake and nie-kuzure in the bôshi. The bôshi itself is suguha-chô to midare-komi and has a ko-maru-kaeri, a frayed tip where it is hard to define how the turnback is formed, or runs out as yakitsume.

Picture 1: Characteristic features of Ayanokôji Sadatoshi’s workmanship.

The ubu tangs of Sadatoshi are finished in kijimomo-gata or at least tend to kijimomo and show sujikai-yasurime. Sadatoshi always signed with a niji-mei which is chiselled in a beautifully ancient-looking manner. The character for “Sada” is in its cursive style quite peculiar and is noticeably larger than the character for “toshi.” The mei itself is always arranged pretty close to the nakago-mune and sits at blades with a bôhi below of where the groove runs out as kaki-nagashi. Well, the range of extant Sadatoshi signatures differs a little but Tanobe says that they all show about the same dymanic ductus and can be traced back to the same craftsman, although to different stages in his active period. Tsuneishi suggests that those mei which are overall somewhat smaller and where the character for “toshi” is noticeably larger or of the same size as the character for “Sada” are works of the 2^nd generation Sadatoshi who signed his name in early years with the characters (定俊). And Satô Kanzan mentions a signed (almost sunnobi) hira-zukuri tantô from the possessions of the Gotoh Museum (五島美術館) which shows a pure suguha and which is somewhat inferior in quality than the extant Sadatoshi tachi. But he says that the mei does not look gimei at all and that this blade might thus actually be a work of the 2^nd generation Sadatoshi. Incidentally, Tsuneishi quotes pretty specific differences in workmanship between the first and second generations Sadatoshi. He says that the second generation mostly hardened a more calm suguha-hotsure with lesser nie-hataraki and prominent hajimi, and that his itame is mixed with masame, stands more out, is mixed with ô-hada, and shows more shirake. He also says that the second generation made more kodachi than tachi.

Picture 2: kokuhô, tachi, mei “Sadatoshi” (定利), nagasa 78.8 cm, sori 3.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, this blade is regarded as the best extant work of Sadatoshi [former heirloom of the Abe (阿部) family, the daimyô of the Bingo Fukuyama fief (福山藩), today preserved in the Tôkyô National Museum]

Picture 3: jûyô, tachi, mei “Sadatoshi” (定利), nagasa 67.7 cm, sori 2.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, this blade shows one of the most classical deki of Sadatoshi and Tanobe writes that it “establishes intuitively as well as objectively a connection to Sanjô or Gojô” [former heirloom of the Naitô (内藤) family, the daimyô of the Echigo Murakami (村上藩) fief]

Picture 4: tokubetsu-jûyô, tachi, mei “Sadatoshi” (定利), nagasa 71.8 cm, sori 1.1 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

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Now to Sadayoshi (定吉). He is listed as son, student, or contemporary of Sadatoshi, in short, we don’t know fore sure how he was related to the latter. He is traditionally dated around Kôan (弘安, 1278-1288) but this has to be seen with the traditional Bun’ei (文永, 1264-75) dating of Sadatoshi which is, as mentioned, no longer sustainable. His works are as classical as Sadatoshi’s and Satô states that he knows two tachi of Sadayoshi which really look like works of Sadatoshi at a glance in terms of tachi-sugata and interpretation of the jiba. One of them is shown in picture 5. It shows a classically elegant tachi-sugata with funbari and a ko-kissaki. The kitae is a dense ko-itame with fine ji-nie and the hamon a ko-nie-laden mix of ko-chôji-midare with kinsuji and some protruding kawazu no ko-chôji along the monouchi. The nioiguchi is subdued and the bôshi is a shallow notare-komi with a ko-maru-kaeri. The tang comes in a kijimono-gata with sujikai-yasurime like at Sadatoshi and please note that also the signature is executed in a very similar way, i.e. showing a cursive-style character for “Sada” and the second character being smaller than the first one.

Picture 5: tachi, mei “Sadayoshi” (定吉), nagasa 77.3 cm, sori 3.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune [preserved in the Tôkyô National Museum]

Picture 6: jûyô-bunkazai, tachi, mei “Sadayoshi” (定吉), nagasa 70.4 cm, sori 2.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune. This blade was initially attributed to the Chikuzen Sa smith of the same name but recent studies have revealed, that because of its jiba and signature style, it is most likely a work of Ayanokôji Sadayoshi.

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By the way, one of my most favorite blades is a tokubetsu-jûyô Ayanokôji Sadatoshi. It was shown to me by a gentleman when I spend some time in the Hokuriku region some years ago. It is neither the most spectacular blade nor the healthiest early kotô blade I have seen. Its beauty is of a restrained, understated nature. It does not try to impress and is thus of true classical elegance, although I have to mention that I am a Yamashiro guy (apart from Aoe works which I like very much too). Looking at that blade gave me a flash of 800 years of Japanese history, of old Kyôto, of aristocratic Heian culture on the eve to warrior culture and much more. It made me walk home with a big smile on my face because, well, you can’t keep up the same constant level of enthusiasm and motivation as there are those days where you ask yourself, what the heck am I doing and did I make the right decisions? But if somebody had asked me why I was smiling, I would have replied that with looking at that outstanding sword, I just got reassured that my life is on the right track…

Just want to add a few thoughts on the upcoming Gendaito book but first of all, a big THANK YOU to all who provided me with material via the separate gendaitoproject@gmail.com address, facebook, the NMB, and everywhere else. Please understand that I will wait with replying and asking specific questions until the actual writing job starts. As mentioned earlier, I have gathered about 1,100 smiths and aim is to record and publish once and for all as many smiths as possible. I have also mentioned that there are quite many where no pictures or oshigata are available but which will be published too, or course, and this most likely collected and in a separate section. Apart from that, I am facing certain page limits, 800 pages to be precise, but it doesn’t make much sense to approach this limit anyway as I have learned that anything that big is prone to fall apart or get “wobbly.” The “sound barrier” is somewhere around 600~650 pages, which is within easy reach at more than 1,000 smiths. And I am not going to make it two volumes. As picture quality is also an issue, this will definitely not be a coffee-table book with details of hamon or jigane and an ouvre of each smiths works (much as I would like).

To sum it up: This book will not be a “Jack of all trades, master of none.” Top priority is as indicated recording the CV’s of as many smiths as possible, accompanied by pictures/oshigata of signatures so that the book also work as a reference for mei comparisons. To leave the focus on the smiths, I also don’t want to toss off a half-hearted chapter on the history of gendaitô, but what I want to do is to follow up something like a Nihon Gendaitô Shi, so to speak continuing my Nihon Shinto Shi and Nihon Shinshinto Shi, that contains all that information like production sites, programs, contests, etc.

That should do it for tonight and thanks for your attention.

As announced a few days ago on Facebook, I was preparing a humble book that has the following background:

Last year, a client of mine who collects first and foremost Keicho-shinto (and who wishes to remain anonymous) commissioned me with compiling a work that quasi complements his collection (his blades are not featured). I’ve done it under the title “Masters of Keicho-Shinto” and it is quasi a catalog to a fictional, ideal exhibition on swords from that era. It features several works (about 100) of the then, well-known masters (35 in total) like Umetada Myoju, Horikawa Kunihiro, Horikawa Kuniyasu, Osumi no Jo Masahiro, Dewa no Daijo Kunimichi, Etchu no Kami Masatoshi, Kinmichi, Kashu Kanewaka, Hizen Tadayoshi, Hankei, Nanki Shigekuni, Sagami no Kami Masatsune, Echizen Yasutsugu, Owari Nobutaka, Harima Teruhiro, Hida no Kami Ujifusa and so on. Now my client has decided to share that info and asked me if I can make it a real book (original was PDF only). We/I will make it only available directly via me for the time being (b/w paperback) and for my client this is an opportunity to get some of his initial investment in this project back (so only a small part of the sales go to me as I was already paid back then of course). It comes with a detailed intro into the subject and should make an excellent reference for those who are interested in Keicho-shinto and the Momoyama-era sword style. Preview is provided below.

PreviewMastersOfKeichoShinto

Price for the US letter format paberback 204p b/w book is 50 USD and 10 USD flat for shipping everywhere (except Australia which is 15 USD and Russia which is 20 USD shipping, sorry guys). As mentioned, it is direct order only for the time being. Easiest way is to PayPal me the total amount to “markus.sesko@gmail.com” and forward me your shipping details (+ phone number as Lulu asks for it) and I will have Luluy print a copy and send it to your place right away. Of course also checks and wire transfers are welcomed. Just get in touch with me at the aforementioned address. Also if you have any further questions.

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Another announcement: A friend of mine from good old Germany and founding member of the Nihonto Club Germany wants to part with a katchu. It is a mid-Edo period kiritsuke-kozane kebiki-odoshi style gusoku with a gold/blue color scheme. Piece is in original condition (i.e. no replacement parts). The helmet is a 62-plate brown lacquered suji-kabuto with kuwagata and red lacquered menpô. Except for a few scuffs and loose lacings (minor), the armor is in an excellent condition for an unaltered/unrepaired set of that time. If you are interested and need further info and/or pics, please get in touch with Mr. Joachim Hoppen via “JoachimHoppen@t-online.de“. Usually don’t do sales here but the seller has been a great supporter of my work right from the start and thus I think I can make an exception ;) Thank you for your attention!

Just a couple of weeks ago I was following a discussion on NMB but couldn’t find the time to participate, and when I was finishing the reformatting of the Keichô-shintô project the other day, this thread and the discussions we had on the topic of utsushimono at two of our NBTHK-EB meetings (in 2009 and in 2014) came back to my mind. So before I continue with the kantei series, I would take the liberty of forwarding my two cents on this topic.

When talking about copies of blades, the term utsushimono (写し物) comes into play which means, well, “copy” but which can be used in a pretty broad sense. And that is the crux of the matter because when the term utsuhimono – or short utsushi (写し), e.g. as a suffix – is dropped, we need to differentiate. First of all, there is the “true copy,” that means a work that copies as faithfully as possible a concrete blade. For example the meibutsu Koryû-Kagemitsu (小竜景光) made by the Bizen smith Kagemitsu in the second year of Genkô (元享, 1322). Several smiths made copies of this blade, some of them on their own initiative but most because of being asked to do so by a customer. In my Tameshigiri book I introduced two Koryû-Kagemitsu-utsushi by the shinshintô smith Koyama Munetsugu (固山宗次). Interesting in this case is that Munetsugu made first, i.e. in Kôka four (弘化, 1847), a “reconstructed copy” of how the blade must have looked like initially (see picture 1 left). The Koryû-Kagemitsu has been shortened, although it still measures magnificent 80.6 cm in nagasa (see picture 1 center). Considerably later, i.e. in Bunkyû two (文久, 1862), Munetsugu made a 1:1 copy of the then condition of the meibutsu, and interesting this time, he also copied the signature of the original 1:1 and signed himself on the back of the tang (see picture 1 right). Please note that this does not come under the category of gimei as the smith added his name at least somewhere on the tang. But even if Munetsugu had not added his name on the back of the tang we would not see this blade as gimei. Meibutsu blades of the calibre of a Koryû-Kagemitsu can be compared to the Mona Lisa. So even if you make a perfect copy of the Mona Lisa, everybody knows that the original hangs in the Louvre and it is next to impossible to trick anyone buying it as original. Of course there were also schemes around meibutsu but they almost always evolved around a famous blade that was long believed to be lost but suddenly popped up somewhere, for sale of course. Details on the backgrounds of why and for whom Munetsugu made these copies can be found in my Tameshigiri book but it should be mentioned here that Munetsugu must have had the original in hand as the copy is indeed pretty close, that means much closer as you can make one just on the basis of oshigata drawings and plain measurements.

Picture 1: The Koryû-Kagemitsu and its two Koyama Munetsugu utsushi

I was already briefly talking about utsushimono in this post and like in the case above, the Fudô-Kuniyuki-utsushi of Nobukuni Shigekane (信国重包) can be considered as a “true copy.” That means even if the original meibutsu had to be retempered about 70 years before Shigekane got to work with it, his approach was still the attempt to copy as faithfully as possible a concrete blade. This brings us to the first “grey area.” Namely even supposing the Fudô-Kuniyuki had been missing at the time of Shigekane and all he had was good enough oshigata and descriptions, the result would still be considered as utsushimono as he copied, or tried to copy a concrete blade, although no longer existing. So the term utsushimono applies here too but it might not be paraphrased as “true copy.” In other words, the farther away the oshigata and descriptions from the original, the more we are entering the realms of a mere homage and eventually end up at a “free interpretation” of the Fudô-Kuniyuki if for example all that Shigekane had to work with was the order to “make me something like the famous but lost Rai blade” and the brief description that it had a this and that horimono and that it measured 1 shaku 9 sun 9 bu in nagasa. But of course also a smith (or his client) can specifically decide to make more like an homage, even if the original is still extant and could act as a model. An example for that are some of Echizen Yasutsugu’s (越前康継) copies of the meibutsu that were damaged by fire when Ôsaka Castle fell in 1615 and which he was ordered to retemper. So Yasutsugu made some “true copies” of these blades whilst he had the chance to study them hands on – or at least what was left of them in terms of steel, shape, and engravings – but he sometimes also copied just the sugata and horimono and added his own hamon. That means he did not even try to recreate the kind of hamon that the blades once might have shown. Again, they are still referred to as as utsushimono. By the way, I was talking about one of Yasutsugu’s “true copies” here.

Then there is the next category of “copies,” namely utsushi not of concrete blades but of styles of a smith or school. For example, if Koyama Munetsugu had made a blade that tries to reproduce the style of Kagemitsu, we would speak of a Kagemitsu-utsushi. Remember, the copy of the Koryû-Kagemitsu is not a Kagemitsu-utsushi but a Koryû-Kagemitsu-utushi. Many many blades were made over the centuries that try to copy the style of a certain school or master. I want to leave out the cultural backround but just one remark, it is common in East Asia for a craftsman to measure his own skill with that of a great master by trying to copy his works over and over again, not seldom over decades. Its just a learning and maturing process (artistically and spiritually) – learning through imitation – and does not mean that one uncreative. But lets get back to the topic. So if a smith tries for example to recreate a blade that is interpreted just like Osafune Kanemitsu (長船兼光) would have made a blade, it is referred to as Kanemitsu-utsushi, and if he tries to recreate a blade in the style of the Aoe School, it is referred to as Aoe-utsushi. And as borders between true copies and homages are fluid, there are other terms than utsushi or utsushimono which might nail the subtle differences better. For example nerau (狙う), “to aim at,” and narau (倣う・傚う), “to emulate, to imitate.” Incidentally, the term for learning, narau, has the same etymological origins (not going into detail on the sophisticated etymological differences of the characters for narau here). A little weaker form of saying “to aim at, to emulate, to imitate” is omowaseru (思わせる) which translates as “gives the impression of,” “has the appearance of” or “sth. reminds of sth.” For instance, a free interpretation that reminds of the style of Kanemitsu or of the Aoe School might be described as “Kanemitsu o omowaseru (兼光を思わせる)” or “Aoe-mono o omowaseru (青江物を思わせる)” respectively. It now depends on the writer, i.e. we see texts where such a free interpretation is still referred to as utsushi, but also such where it is stated that A tried to emulate B, that C aimed at D, and that a certain work reminds of X. So what its gonna be also depends on the context. Some smiths are known for focusing on concrete utsushi, for example Taikei Naotane (大慶直胤) who often copied or aimed at famous Osafune masters like Kanemitsu and Kagemitsu, whereas others rather reinterpreted certain things, for example Hankei (繁慶) and his working with the Sôshû tradition.

That brings us back to the different approaches of the smiths and it must be mentioned at this point that an utsushi is not considered as a forgery. Also forgeries try to reproduce a certain style, or even a concrete blade, as faithfully as possible, but they then “claim” to be a work of that school or smith or to be that very blade. In short, different intention. Or in other words, it doesn’t have to be by a great master or a very close copy but if the buyer/owner knows that the blade was made as copy of or as an homage to a certain school or smith, everything is fine. Like indicated above, it was very common to approach a smith and order a blade with the requirement it should be in the style of Kanemitsu or of the Rai School for example. Did myself so about ten years ago when I commissioned master Matsuba Kunimasa (松葉國正) with making me a naginata-naoshi style wakizashi that bases, freely, on a certain Ko-Aoe blade. What about the historic aspect? It is safe to assume that copies and forgeries coexisted from earliest times onwards. That means, learning through imitation was there what creates copies/imitations and making money from selling someone something cheap as something more valueable is is as human as it gets. So swords are of course no exception. It is hard to say for pre-Nanbokuchô smiths but one of the earliest examples of copying/imitating/recreating – isolated from the works left from the mere learning-through-imitation process – is the Ôei-Bizen group. When the turmoils of the Nanbokuchô period were over the Ashikaga family reinstalled the post of shôgun back in Kyôto and the upper warrior class was again trying to catch up with the cultural world of the aristocracy, after having tried something new and different, something more martial and bold in Kamakura. This is very well reflected in the sword fashions when the Bizen tradition, which was predominating during Kamakura times, was given up in the Nanbokuchô era in favor of the wild Sôshû tradition, which was given up again with the relocation of the bakufu to Kyôto in favor of the Bizen tradition. That means we see a significant backwards orientation at Ôei-Bizen as the group made blades in reminiscence of their great Kamakura predecessors. Another example for early utsushi are the numerous Rai or Yamashiro copies of the Sue-Seki smiths. My theory on the success of these copies is as follows: By that time, i.e. later Muromachi, sword forging in Yamashiro, that means Kyôto, was with entering the 1500s virtually non-existing and it is assumed that one reason for that was the massive “urban exodus” of the local smiths with the outbreak of the Ônin War. But unlike the changing fashions for long swords, classical koshigatana were always in demand. The koshigatana market had been predominated by the Yamashiro smiths as they equipped the warrior elite from the start with their fine daggers. Thus the peak of highest-quality tantô production is in the Kamakura period. The larger hira-zukuri ko-wakizashi that became increasingly in use with the Nanbokuchô period were a hint more utilitarian than the koshigatana, or at least more utilitarian than the “status symbol koshigatana” that were worn with formal costumes. So by the late Muromachi period, there were no Yamashiro masters at whom one could place an order for a classical koshigatana, i.e. a medium-sized tantô with harmonious proportions, a fine hada, and an elegant sugaha hamon. And thus warriors were approaching the then Seki masters who made them classical and high-quality koshigatana but which were much more affordable than looking for the real thing, i.e. trying to buy an Awataguchi or Rai original which always had been expensive. The Momoyama era experienced a “rediscovery” of the great early Sôshû masters and details on that like the upper warrior classes “need” for owning certain masters and the effect on then sword fashion can be found in my recent Masters of Keicho-Shinto and my Masamune book. But this much is to say: Sôshû was the order of the day and virtually every master or aspiring master was making Sôshû copies or a stab at the Sôshû tradition at that time.

And then came the shintô era of sword making which brought a lot of changes. The continuous peace, urbanization, accumulation of wealth for a higher number of individuals, and the conservative formation of an upper bourgeoisie had the effect that swordsmiths saw themselves more than ever as artists rather than as craftsmen. As a result, faithfully imitating certain predecessing masters or styles was no longer enough. Kotô blades are pretty much form follows function coupled with a special sense of aesthetics, i.e. simply put, the aesthetics of nativeness or natural simplicity. The great Ôsaka-shintô, Edo-shintô and early Hizen masters (just to name a few) developed with their strong creative power certain concepts, that means they started to separated the individual aesthetics of a blade like the sugata, jigane, hamon, and bôshi, just to rearrange them according to their overall idea of a sword blade. And utsushimono were no exception. Still “true copies” were made but we see more and more idealized reinterpretations of certain styles. In other words, these shintô masters reflected what constituted for example the Yamashiro tradition or for which the Yamashiro tradition was recognized for and banned these very elements onto canvas, in their case onto a sword blade. To stay with the example Yamashiro, the Yamashiro tradition is first of all famous for a densely forged, uniform jigane and a highly elegant suguha or suguha-chô. Accordingly, the great shintô masters focused on these elements and highlighted them at their own discretion. This changed again with shinshintô times as the shinshintô masters so to speak had to – after almost a decade of lean spell and a decrease in demand for swords and a decline craftsmanship – “reinvent” the whole wheel and were first of all aiming again at the kotô models. Rephrased, they first had to “learn” again through imitation before they were able to go over to free reinterpretations (which are by the way hardly seen in shinshintô anyway). Using the example of car makers and the Jaguar E-Type, the shinshintô masters were making as faithful as possible Jaguar E-Type retros whilst the shintô masters took everything for what that icon of a car stands for and created something new that might only remind of the original at a glance, or that can only be recognized as being Jaguar E-Type inspired when you have a decent undertanding of classic cars. But if the master was a great master, you can see what his inspiration was, how he skillfully highlighted certain elements, and how he really conveyed the aesthetics of the E-Type, oh pardon me, the Yamashiro tradition. But if a master was not that good, you might get what he was aiming at but the result is in the worst case a “Yamashiro grotesque.” Just like the thin line between an outstanding and a “too much” concept car.

Perfect timing, Aoi Art just put an interesting piece on sale. Link here (and picture below). It is a copy of a copy, that means Kasama Ikkansai Shigetsugu (笠間一貫斎繁継, 1886-1965) copied a blade by Taikei Naotane (大慶直胤, 1778-1857) which the latter had modelled, rather freely if you compare it to the three originals introduced in my Masamune book, on one of the Hôchô-Masamune. Like Koyama Munetsugu, Shigetsugu also copied the signature “Mo Hôchô-Masamune Naotane + kaô” (模包丁正宗直胤) of Naotane’s copy (or rather homage). Shigetsugu himself signed on the ura side, interestingly with “Ikkansai kore o tsukuru” (一貫斎造之), i.e. just with his gô and omitting his smith name (blade got papered to Shigetsugu by the way, so it is none of the other numerous Ikkansai smiths).

Leaving aside the art aspect, making a convincing and “true copy,” for example making a Koryû-Kagemitsu-utsushi, requires quite a high level of skill. Imagine how perfectly you have to master the craft to know how to arrange, fold, and forge your initial steel bundle and harden the blade to get in the end the exact same kinsuji at the exact same spot as on the original. You can do a lot with tsuchioki but in general, there are no tricks or shortcuts. That means you can’t “draw” a kinsuji onto a blade. It is just amazing how some smiths did this!

It is said that the Awataguchi School goes back to a certain Kuniyori (国頼) but who was not a swordsmith, at least it is noted so in the old genealogies which add the supplement “hi-kaji” (非鍛冶, also read “kaji arazu”), lit. “no smith.” So his successor Kuniie (国家) – who is listed as “started to educate himself to become a swordsmith” or “the first [of the school] who carried out the profession of a swordsmith” – is regarded as de facto founder of the school what in turn renders Kuniyori the school’s “ancestor” if you want. Kuniie is also listed as being a “descendant of Yamato´s Kôfukuji (興福寺),” whatever that means, because no source goes into detail about what relationship Kuniie had to this temple. The Kotô Mei Zukushi Taizen states that Kuniyori was an armorer from Yamato and that his son Kuniie lived in Tanba (丹波), in the Soekami district (添上郡) of Yamato province which was an area that became a part of present-day Tenri (天理), Nara Prefecture. The Kôfukuji is about 10 km to the north of Tanba/Tenri. So not sure if these two traditions, i.e. being affiliated with the Kôfukuji and living/working in Tanba go hand in hand. I want to do some research on the jôji-hôshi (承仕法師) in the future, the so-called “monk craftsmen” or “monk workers” of a certain temple. Maybe I am able to come across something which helps us in this matter. The Kotô Mei Zukushi Taizen dates Kuniie around Tenshô (天承, 1131-1132) but the meikan date Kuniyori around Bunji (文治, 1185-1190) and Kuniie around Genryaku (元暦, 1184-1185), that means both towards the very end of the Heian period. As mentioned repeatedly in this blog, these dates have to be taken with a grain of salt, so even if Bunji was later than Genryaku, there is a certain grey area and the dates do not rule out at all that Kuniyori and Kuniie were father and son. Well, if it is true that Kuniie became a swordsmith with his move to Kyôto, we have no records that tell us who his master was. In addition, there are no blades of Kuniie extant which would allow us to draw some conclusions on the basis of workmanship. I would like to refer to the Japanese practice of tôri-ji (通字) or kei-ji (系字) at this point, the practice of a lineage or school of sharing a common character. When we assume that Kuniie was in Kyôto around Genryaku (元暦, 1184-1185), under whom could he have studied? Neither the Ayanokôji nor the Rai School had been established at that time. The Sanjô School seems a bit too early so maybe Gojô comes into question. Their latest known master, Kuninaga (国永), is traditionally dated around Tengi (天喜, 1053-1058) but as mentioned in the relevant chapter of this series, it is very likely that there were several generations Kuninaga active. So with the practice of tôri-ji in mind, we can speculate that Awataguchi Kuniie might had been a student of a later Kuninaga. But it is of course also possible that the very character for “Kuni” had already been shared in his lineage of armorers and Kuniie so to speak brought it with him from Nara and his use of “Kuni” has nothing to do with the lineage of Gojô Kuninaga. Anyway, I said at the beginning of this series that I don’t want to go too much into historic detail and focus on kantei. But I also said I will introduce some historic background if it is necessary for the understanding of a certain subject. And the establishment of the Awataguchi School is such a case because as mentioned in the following, Kuniie’s six sons and their successors turned out to be the greatest masters of their time. It is thus hard to accept that a school like the Awataguchi came out of nowhere. So either Kuniie was a later and skilled smith from the lineage of Gojô Kuninaga, or he was a skilled armorer who reacted to the then local demand for elegant swords for the aristocracy, studied under a local smith, and worked with his six sons very hard to establish a forge that should become the first point of contact when it comes to high-quality blades. Before I come to the first tangible Awataguchi masters, please take a look here to read about the origins of the Rai School, a post of mine from last year that deals with a famous blade of Kuniyori. So if this blade is authentic and a work of this Awataguchi Kuniyori, then either the armorer approach should be dismissed, or already Kuniyori had changed his profession after his move to Kyôto and not just his son Kuniie. Lastly, I don’t want to leave out what is written in the early Kamakura-period work Uji Shûi Monogatari (宇治拾遺物語). This collection of Japanese tales of unknown author bases on a no longer existing work with the title Uji Dainagon Monogatari (宇治大納言物語), written by Minamoto no Takakuni (源隆国, 1004-1077) who was the Dainagon counselor of Uji. The later Uji Shûi Monogatari writes in Volume 1, Chapter 15: “He entered Kyôto from the Awataguchi Entrance […] nearby where the Awataguchi smiths reside/live.” So it seems that smiths were working there at the latest by the end of the 11^th century but what makes this entry even more interesting is that this chapters starts with the words: “This is another old story.” This is a strong indicator for the assumption that the Awataguchi School does not go back to an armorer who had moved there at the very end of the Heian period. It is of course theoretically possible that the Awataguchi School had been active there as Gojô offshoot and mere below the radar level since mid-Heian times and that it was revived by an outsider, i.e. by Kuniie, who brought as a skilled armorer from Nara (the then heartland of master armorers) new blood into the school.

GenealogyAwataguchi

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Kunitomo (国友) is the earliest Awataguchi smith of whom we have extant blades to work with (leaving aside the aforementioned Kuniyori tantô). He is traditionally dated around Kenkyû (建久, 1190-1199) and was the oldest son of Kuniie. The Kotô Mei Zukushi Taizen states that he died in Kenpô one (建保, 1213) at the age of 67. Again, this information has to be taken with a grain of salt because as stated in my Masamune book, the publication gives for each and very smith his year of birth and death, a data that was not known to earlier authors and just pops up in the Kotô Mei Zukushi Taizen that was published for the first time in Kansei four (寛政, 1792). Just wanted to address that at this point because when I am referring to dates forwarded by the Kotô Mei Zukushi Taizen in the future, I am not going to remind of their doubtfulness. So Kunitomo was summoned by the retired Emperor Gotoba (後鳥羽天皇, 1180-1239, r. 1184-1198) for his so-called goban-kaji (御番鍛冶) project and appears on the initial goban-kaji list as smith for the sixth month, and again on the list that features 24 smiths, on that one for the first month. By the way, also his son Norikuni (則国), his younger brother Kuniyasu (国安), and his nephew Kagekuni (景国) appear on goban-kaji lists and his younger brother Hisakuni (久国), Kagekuni’s father, had the honor to act as personal sword forging instructor of Gotoba. It is also said that Kunitomo’s father Kuniie was given the honorary post of supervisor of all goban-kaji. And this is why I think it is rather unlikely that an outsider came to Kyôto where he founded from scratch a school of sword makers whose smiths were considered right from the start as best of the best.

Extant works of Kunitomo are extremely rare and can be counted on one hand. The most famous one is the jûyô-bunkazai tachi that is preserved in the Atsuta-jingû (picture 1). It has a highly elegant and slender tachi-sugata with a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip, much funbari, and a ko-kissaki. The kitae is a very dense ko-itame with ji-nie and the hamon a ko-nie-laden suguha with ko-ashi. The bôshi is sugu and has a smallish ko-maru-kaeri but appears almost as yakitsume. The tang of this blade is completely ubu. It tapers noticeably, has sujikai-yasurime, a kurijiri, and the finely chiselled mei is placed above the mekugi-ana and towards the back of the tang.

Picture 1: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Kunitomo” (国友), nagasa 75.7 cm, sori 2.2 cm, shinogi-zukuri, mitsu-mune

There is only one more signed tachi of Kunitomo known, or at least one more that is definitely attributable to Awataguchi Kunitomo. There is namely a tachi signed “Kunitomo tsukuru” (国友造) owned by the Kurokawa Institute of Ancient Cultures (picture 3) that differs in terms of deki and signature style and that Honma hesitates attributing it to the Awataguchi smith and says it might actually be a Ko-Bizen work but from about the same time of production. However, it goes as Awataguchi work its designation as jûyô-bijutsuhin. Anyway, the other definite signed tachi of Kunitomo is a tokubetsu-jûyô (picture 2) and very close to the tachi of the Atsuta-jingû. It shows the same elegant and slender tachi-sugata with funbari and a deep koshizori but has an iori instead of a mitsu-mune. Also it is a little machi-okuri, although its tang has the original kijimomo-style shape whereas at the Atsuta-jingû blade, the end of the tang seems to have been altered so that it does not have this conspicuous curve. The tokubetsu-jûyô has a very dense ko-itame that is mixed with some itame and nagare in places and that appears with the ji-nie and chikei altogether as nashiji-hada. The hamon is a ko-nie-laden suguha-chô that is mixed with ko-midare, ko-ashi, jô, kinsuji, and sunagashi. The nioiguchi is rather wide and like the Atsuta-jingû blade, the ha tends to urumi in places. The bôshi is sugu and has a smallish ko-maru-kaeri but appears almost as yakitsume. Also we see a hint of hakikake at the very tip. There is a small koshibi on the haki-omote side that runs due to the machi-okuri a little into the tang.

Picture 2: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Kunitomo” (国友), nagasa 74.3, sori 2.2 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 3: tachi, jûyô-bijutsuhin, mei “Kunitomo tsukuru” (国友造), nagasa 72.4 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, slender and elegant tachi-sugata with a deep koshizori, funbari, and a ko-kissaki, the kitae is an itame mixed with mokume and ji-nie and the hamon is a ko-nie-laden suguha-chô mixed with ko-midare and kinsuji. Well, who am I to question Honma but from the overall interpretation and sugata and especially from the finish of the tang and the position of the signature, it would pass very well as Awataguchi Kunitomo for me.

Picture 4: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mumei, attributed to Awataguchi Kunitomo, nagasa 76.6 cm, sori 1.6 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, elegant and slender tachi-sugata with a deep koshizori, funbari, and a ko-kissaki, the kitame is a dense ko-itame mixed with some itame here and there, nagare, ji-nie, and chikei, the hamon is a ko-nie-laden ko-midare mixed with ko-gunome, ko-chôji, ashi, and plenty of kinsuji, the bôshi is sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri with hakikake and kinsuji

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Honma also says that there are two tantô that bear the mei “Kunitomo” which are no Awataguchi works but whose signatures don’t give the impression of being gimei of Awataguchi Kunitomo either. In other words, they are most likely works of another Kunitomo who is not found in the meikan and whom Honma attributes on the basis of the workmanship to the Yamato tradition, probably Senju’in school (and somewhat later than Awataguchi Kunitomo). Also he says that there are blades going round that bear the niji-mei “Fujibayashi/Tôrin” (藤林). Kunitomo is listed with the name Fujibayashi Saemon (藤林左衛門), although the exact reading or interpretation of this name is unclear. Some read it as “Fuji Hayashi Saemon,” i.e. Hayashi as the family name, “Saemon” as the first name, and “Fuji” referring to the clan name Fujiwara (藤原). Another theory suggests that the entire name is completely read as one first name, i.e. as “Tôrinzaemon.” And the reading “Fujibayashi/Tôrin Saemon” follows the assumption that Kunitomo´s first name was Saemon and that he signed his family name Hayashi and Fuji for the clan name Fujiwara in a conbined version as “Fujibayashi” which can also be read “Tôrin.” Now Honma says that such a Fujibayashi/Tôrin signed tachi was once submitted for an old kichô-tôken shinsa. The blade indeed did look like an Awataguchi-mono but it did not pass because of the suspicious or rather very uncommon signature. And then there is the kanmuri-otoshi-zukuri, kikuchi-yari-style ken signed “Fujibayashi/Tôrin” that was once owned by Naruse Masanari (成瀬正成, 1567-1625), the first daimyô of the Inuyama fief of Owari province. Here too, no one dares to attribute the work to Awataguchi Kunitomo, even if old sword publications say that Kunitomo also signed with the niji-mei “Fujibayashi/Tôrin” and even depict drawings of tangs with this mei.

Awataguchi Hisakuni (久国) was the second son of Kuniie and thus the second oldest of the so-called “Six Awataguchi Brothers.” He is listed with the first name Tôjirô (藤次郎) what makes sense as “Jirô” means “second son.” So the “Fuji” from Fujiwara was combined with the fact that he was the second son and this approach was kept for all other sons of Kuniie who were named Tôsaburô, Tôshirô, Tôgorô, and Tôroku (the youngest went without the suffix rô). Just his first son Kunitomo is an exception as he was called Saemon, or if we follow the “Fuji” character integration approach, Tôzaemon, or Tôrinzaemon if we also integrate the alleged family name Hayashi. Anyway. Hisakuni had the honor to become the sword forging instructor of Emperor Gotoba and received for this the honorary title of Ôsumi Gonnokami (大隅権守) and an extra intracalary month was added to the monthly-based goban-kaji to include him in the list. In addition, Gotoba also conferred titles of the ancient courtly Smiths Office (kanuchi no tsukasa, 鍛冶司) upon smiths who worked for the goban-kaji project. For example, Hisakuni was made head of all Yamashiro smiths (Yamashiro Kokuchû Kaji Chôja, 山城国中鍛冶長者) and entrusted with Bizen-Ichimonji Nobufusa (延房) – who was the other sword forging instructor of Gotoba – with another courtly sword office, namely that of the Nihon Kaji Sôchô (日本鍛冶惣庁). Those titles and the fact that Gotoba had chosen him as teacher (it is said that he worked for eight years with the retired emperor) speaks for the great skill of Hisakuni and virtually all experts agree that Hisakuni was the best of all Awataguchi smiths. Incidentally, the Kotô Meizukushi Taizen states that he died in Kenpô four (建保, 1216) at the age of 67, that means he was three years younger than Kunitomo (if we believe in this data).

Fortunately, there are relative many works of Hisakuni extant, both tachi and tantô. Like Kunitomo, and due to the local and chronological context, he made highly elegant and slender tachi with a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip, funbari, and a ko-kissaki that might tend to a little chû. His jigane is of unrivalled quality and also the hamon is perfectly hardened. The fineness and density of his steel is referred to as tataki-tsume (たたきつめ) in old sword publications what means about “as dense as a stamped-down clay floor.” The most famous and best work of him is the kokuhô (picture 1) that was once a heirloom of the Matsudaira (松平) branch which ruled the Saijô fief (西条藩) of Iyo province. It shows a very dense ko-itame whose abundance of ji-nie tends towards nie-utsuri and which appears altogether as nashiji-hada. The hamon is a suguha-chô in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with ko-midare, ko-chôji, ko-gunome, plenty of ko-ashi, some uchinoke, kinsuji and sunagashi in places, and brightly glittering ha-nie. The nioiguchi is very clear and the bôshi is a shallow notare-komi with a short kaeri (almost entirely yakitsume on the ura) with hakikake. The tang is ubu, although its end was altered as the seen on the first and third Kunitomo picture, shows a kurijiri, sujikai-yasurime, and two mekugi-ana. The niji-mei is chiselled right next to the mekugi-ana and it has to be pointed out that this is the thinnest signature known by Hisakuni. Also interesting is that the tang bears at the very end a kaô (picture 2) but which does not go back to the smith. It was added later, probably on behalf of a later owner of the sword.

Picture 1: tachi, kokuhô, mei “Hisakuni + kaô” (久国), nagasa 80.4 cm, sori 3.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 2: Detail of the kaô

Next I want to introduce the Hisakuni tachi from the Imperial Collection (picture 3). It is suriage and shows a dense ko-itame with plenty of ji-nie and chikei and a suguha that tends to ko-notare and that is mixed with ko-midare, plenty of ashi and yô, and some kinsuji. The bôshi is sugu with a hint of midare and shows a ko-maru-kaeri with nijûba on the omote side. Please note that the signature is noticeably thicker chiselled than that of the kokuhô, what is the more common signature style of Hisakuni (actually, only the kokuhô was signed with that a thin chisel but Tanobe assumes that all known mei go back to the hand of a single smith).

Picture 3: tachi, gyobutsu, mei “Hisakuni” (久国), nagasa 66.7 cm, sori 1.5 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

When it comes to long swords of Hisakuni, also the jûyô-bunkazai from the former collection of the Akimoto family (秋元) has to be mentioned (picture 4) as it is regarded as his “second best” work. The tang was shortened like the gyobutsu just as much as to preserve the mei, which was added with the same thick chisel. The kitae is a very densely forged ko-itame with plenty of ji-nie and also an irregular jifu-utsuri with some antai appears. The hamon is a nie-laden suguha that tends to ko-notare and that is mixed with ko-chôji, ko-midare, kinsuji, sunagashi, ha-nie, and seven some ara-nie in places. And with the hakikake in the bôshi and the jifu-utsuri we might say that Hisakuni gave this blade on top of its elegance a hint of power. Please note that like at the gyobutsu, the undulating area of the hamon focuses on the monouchi.

Picture 4: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Hisakuni” (久国), nagasa 78.5 cm, sori 1.6 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 5: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Hisakuni” (久国), nagasa 74.4 cm, sori 2.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, dense itame with a hint masame and plenty of fine ji-nie, the hamon is a suguha-chô in ko-nie-deki with a little shallow notare and is mixed with ko-gunome, ko-midare, ko-ashi, yô, and fine sunagashi, the bôshi is a rather wide sugu-chô with a ko-maru-kaeri, the tang is completely ubu, has a kurijiri, katte-sagari yasurime, and comes in a kijimono-gata, again, we have here the common thickly chiselled mei of Hisakuni

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Now to Hisakuni’s tantô. The majority of them is small dimensioned and has an uchizori that shows a hint of takenoko (i.e. can appear as more pronounced uchizori). By the way, Hisakuni is often quoted when it comes to the earliest extant fine tantô. And then there is the wide, long, slightly curved, and almost Nanbokuchô-esque jûyô-bijutsuhin tantô of Hisakuni that is the odd one out. But the signature and deki of the jiba is a total match with the other works of Hisakuni and experts agree that this is just one of the more rare dagger interpretations that were occasionally ordered at that time. Well, the blade shows a ko-nie-laden suguha-chô that is mixed with connected ko-gunome, yubashiri that create nijûba and kuichigaiba in places, and some kinsuji and sunagashi. The bôshi is sugu with a rather long running-back ko-maru-kaeri. On both sides a bôhi with a shorter soebi at the base is engraved.

Picture 6: tantô, jûyô-bijutsuhin, mei “Hisakuni” (久国), nagasa 29.4 cm, hira-zukuri, mitsu-mune

The most representative tantô of Hisakuni (and regarded by some as one of the finest of all Awataguchi tantô) is the jûyô-bunkazai that was owned liked the kokuhô by the Saijô-Matsudaira family (picture 7). It is slender, as mentioned small dimensioned, has a rather pronounced uchizori, and shows a very dense ko-itame with fine ji-nie that tends to form nie-utsuri. The hamon is a ko-nie-laden suguha-chô that is mixed with ko-midare, kinsuji, and sunagashi, and we have the same tendency towards nijûba and kuichigaiba as seen on the sunnobi-style jûyô-bijutsuhin. The bôshi is sugu with a little midare-komi and has a ko-maru-kaeri.

Picture 7: tantô, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Hisakuni” (久国), nagasa 20.1 cm, uchizori, hira-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 8, an heirloom of the Date (伊達) family, shows one of the more rare blades of Hisakuni that is signed with his first name. It is a slender jûyô-tantô that shows a very fine and densey forged ko-itame with ji-nie which appears as nashiji-hada. The hamon is a hoso-suguha in ko-nie-deki with a prominent yakikomi at the machi and with hotsure. The ha widens along the fukura and runs back with a ko-maru-kaeri. The omote side shows three bonji and the ura side a suken.

Picture 8: tantô, jûyô, mei “Tôjirô Hisakuni” (藤次郎久国), nagasa 22.4 cm, uchizori, hira-zukuri, iori-mune

There is also one tachi signed that way (picture 9), a jûyô that bears a kinzôgan-mei with the name of its former owner – Shimazu Narinobu (島津斉宣, 1774-1841), the ninth daimyô of the Satsuma fief – on its tang. It is slender, preserves despite of the suriage a deep sori, and shows an itame with some nagare and ji-nie. The hamon is a nie-laden suguha-chô mixed with chôji, ko-midare, sunagashi, kinsuji, and plenty of ha-nie. The bôshi is a thin sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri.

Picture 9: tachi, jûyô, mei “Tôjirô Hisakuni” (藤次郎久国) kinzôgan-mei “Bungo no Kami Narinobu kore o haku” (豊後守斉宣帯之), nagasa 68.4 cm, sori 2.2 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

With an upcoming crowdfunding project in mind and finishing certain things before our first vacation since one and a half years (separate note will follow), I decided to create a separate site where I make available for free all stories that were published in my two books Legends and Stories Around the Japanese Sword and Legends and Stories Around the Japanese Sword 2, so to speak as a present to the Nihontô community and to generate more interest in the fascinating subject of the Japanese Sword. You can find the page as shown below and via a link at the blogroll at the very bottom of this site.

Japanese Sword Legends

The site will be updated from time to time with additional legends and stories and I will make a short announcement on any substantial update on this site too. So please spread the word and have fun!

Now to the third of the Six Awataguchi Brothers, Kuniyasu (国安), who bore the first name “Tôsaburô” (藤三郎), the honorary title of Yamashiro no Kami (山城守), and who was goban-kaji smith of the fourth month. He is traditionally dated around Shôji (正治, 1199-1201), that means to the very end of the Heian and the beginning of the Kamakura period. Accordingly, we can see at him a shift towards wider and somewhat more magnificent blades. In short, he made elengant and slender but also relative wide and long tachi with a chû instead of a ko-kissaki, the former being close to works of his older brothers Kunitomo and Hisakuni. He also added relative often bôhi. In addition, we know blades with a fine jigane but much more with a rather standing-out itame that tends to nagare and even ô-hada in places. That is why Kuniyasu is known as forging the most standing-out jada of all Six Awataguchi Brothers. That all and the fact that we are facing slightly different signature stiles and relative many extant works has lead to a two generations theory in which the alleged second generation is dated around Kenchô (建長, 1249-1256). But it is well possible that there was just one Kuniyasu, in other words, he might had been active somewhat longer than some of his brothers and just reacted towards the end of his career to then trends in sword fashion. Incidentally, the Kotô Mei Zukushi says that the youngers of the six, Kunitsuna, died in Kenchô seven (建長, 1255) at the age of 93, what calculates his year of birth as Chôkan one (長寛, 1163). Also Kunitsuna, who moved later to Kamakura, made magnificent and powerful blades. So if we assume that the Six Brothers were born not that far apart, Kenchô seems perfectly fine as career end and there is no need for introducing a second generation Kuniyasu.

Picture 1: Characteristic features of Awataguchi Kuniyasu’s workmanship.

Apart from the above mentioned features, i.e. hada for Awataguchi-mono rather on the rough side and often bôhi, Kuniyasu hardened mostly a sugha-chô that is mixed with ko-midare, ko-chôji, and ko-gunome of which the individual elements are densely arranged and tend to appear in a connect manner, especially the ko-gunome. Besides of that, we see kinsuji and sunagashi (sometimes prominent) and small uchinoke-like elements atop of the yakigashira which are referred to as karimata (雁股, bifurcated arrowheads). These karimata were later adopted by Rai Kuniyuki (来国行) and became one of his characteristic features but they can also be seen on some swords of Ayanokôji Sadatoshi (綾小路定利). In addition, Kuniyasu’s nioiguchi is not as clar as at Hisakuni. That in turn means, you can mix up his works with that of Ayanokôji Sadatoshi as Sadatoshi too is known for applying groups of several ko-gunome and/or ko-chôji elements embedded into a rather subdued nioiguchi and accompanied by yubashiri and nijûba that create that peculiar “layered” appearance of the ha. Major difference between their works is the bôshi as Sadatoshi’s bôshi is noticeably more nie-laden and shows hakikake and nie-kuzure. Kuniyasu’s bôshi is more calm and appears as only slightly undulating sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri. However, some blades of Kuniyasu also show hakikake and a more wide kaeri, so some of his works are pretty close to Sadatoshi. But apart from that we can say that Kuniyasu’s entire ha is a little more calm than that of Ayanokôji Sadatoshi, that means we see a hint more ups and downs at blades of the latter. The more standing-out hada of Kuniyasu might also remind of Ko-Hôki Yasutsuna (安綱) but Yasutsuna’s blade are overall more rustic, i.e. they have a darker steel, a jifu-utsuri with antai (what gives the ha a rather “brindled” appearance), and ha-bie and hotsure that are interwoven into a conspicious ha-hada. As for Kuniyasu’s tangs, they mostly tend to kijimono, show katte-sagari yasurime, and a kurijiri. There are only niji-mei of Kuniyasu known which are signed with a kind of semi-cursive character for “yasu” with large curves for the vertical strokes, although we can see some differences (but which probably go all back to different phases in the career of a single smith). Please note that Ko-Bizen Kuniyasu signed in a similar manner (see picture 2). So watch out but Ko-Bizen Kuniyasu’s blades should be different in terms of hamon (more flamboyant) and sugata (he was active in the mid-Kamakura period).

Picture 2: mei comparison, to the left Awataguchi Kuniyasu, the one to the right Ko-Bizen Kuniyasu

The blade shown in picture 3 was a former heirloom of the Mizuguchi family (溝口), the daimyô of the Shibata fief (新発田藩) of Echigo province, and is today designated as jûyô-bunkazai. It is a little on the wider side but is overall very elegant, shows funbari, and ends in a ko-kissaki. The kitae is a dense itame with plenty of ji-nie and the hamon is a ko-nie-laden ko-midare to suguha-chô along the upper area that is mixed with some prominent ko-chôji and that comes with a rather subdued nioiguchi. We also see some kinsuji and sunagashi and the bôshi is sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri.

Picture 3: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Kuniyasu” (国安), nagasa 79.3 cm, sori 2.9 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Next I want to introduce a tachi of Kuniyasu that is preserved in the Tôkyô National Museum but that has no whatsoever designation. It is again a little wide, has a deep koshizori with funbari, and a compact chû-kissaki and the kitae ist a rather standing-out ko-itame with ji-nie. The hamon is a ko-nie-laden ko-notare that is mixed with ko-midare, many ko-ashi and yô, kinsuji, and sunagashi and the bôshi is midare-komi with a ko-maru-kaeri. Please see here to get some impression of the steel of this blade and its overall perfect condition.

Picture 4: tachi, mei “Kuniyasu” (国安), nagasa 79.4 cm, sori 2.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

And as last work of Kuniyasu I want to introduce the jûyô-bijutsuhin tachi that was once owned by the Matsudaira branch (松平) which was in control of the Tsuyama fief (津山藩) of Mimasaka province and which is now preserved by the NBTHK. It is shows a standing-out itame mixed with mokume and nagare and also fine ji-nie, chikei, and a faint nie-utsuri appear. The hamon is a ko-nie-laden suguha-chô mixed with plenty of ko-ashi and yô, kinsuji, sunagashi, and discontinuous yubashiri and nijūba along the yakigashira that create the very “layered” apperance. The ha does not show conspicious ups and downs and its midare elements are densely arranged. The bôshi is sugu with a ko-maru-kaeri and please note that this blade bears futasuji-hi.

Picture 5: tachi, jûyô-bijutsuhin, mei “Kuniyasu” (国安), nagasa 71.4 cm, sori 2.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

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Kuniie’s fourth son was Kunikiyo (国清). He bore the first name Tôshirô (藤四郎) and the Kotô Meizukushi Taizen says that he also signed with “Shirôbei” (四郎兵衛) and that he was around Genryaku (元暦, 1184-1185) 30 years old. As for Kunikiyo, we only have two authentic signed and a few ô-suriage mumei works attributed to him to work with. The jûyô-bunkazai tachi (picture 6) was once owned by the Satake (佐竹) family, the daimyô of Akita, and handed down within them as Awataguchi work since the early Edo period. The other signed work is a jûyô-bijutsuhin but which bears quite a differently chiselled mei. It was once owned by the pre-WWII collector Saitô Moichirô (斎藤茂一郎), who owned several bunkazai, bijutsuhin, and kokuhô, but Honma said that its provenance is unclear. However, he also says that despite of the differences in their mei, both blades are more classical than Rai works and he has no problem with seeing them as Awataguchi-mono. Honma was not sure if the blades go back to the same smith but for him, the differences in mei are too great to see them as just going back to different phases of a single smith’s career. And in this course he was also not sure which one was the fourth of the Six Awataguchi Brothers. Tanobe too remarks the somewhat “hesitatingly” chiselled mei of the jûyô-bijutsuhin but rather tends to think that we are facing signatures of two different active periods of a single smith. Incidentally, there was another Awataguchi Kunikiyo but he was a student of Kunitsuna and active too late (around Kôan [弘安, 1278-1288]) for attributing any of these blades to him.

Anyway, the jûyô-bunkazai is elegant, has a rather shallow sori, funbari, and a ko-kissaki. The kitae is a dense ko-itame with fine and bright ji-nie and shows a faint but beautiful nie-utsuri. The hamon is a ko-chôji in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with ko-midare, ko-gunome, karimata-like elemements, small tobiyaki and yubashiri atop of the yakigashira in places, ashi, yô, sunagshi and kinsuji. The ha is quite complex and its elements are densely arranged and we can see a strong resemblane to works of Kuniyasu. Kunikiyo’s ha is just a little wider, the sori more shallow, and the shinogi-ji somewhat broader. Please note that Tanobe describes this blade at one place as having a deep koshizori but what is probably a mistake.

Picture 6: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Kunikiyo” (国清), nagasa 79.4 cm, sori 2.2 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 7 shows a tachi of Kunikiyo that is tokubetsu-jûyô and attributed via “Den” to Awataguchi Kunikiyo. It has a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip and shows a rather standing-out itame mixed with some nagare, plenty of ji-nie, and much chikei. The hamon is a nie-laden suguha-chô mixed with some notare, ko-midare, gunome, ashi, some yubashiri along the monouchi, kinsuji, and many fine sunagashi. The nioiguchi is bright and clear and the bôshi is sugu with a short maru-kaeri and nijûba. The tang is ô-suriage, shows a shallow kurijiri, and shallow katte-sagari yasurime. This blade was once a heirloom of the Sakai (酒井) family, the daimyô of the Himeji fief (姫路藩) of Harima province.

Picture 7: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mumei “Den Awataguchi Kunikiyo” (伝粟田口国清), nagasa 69.8 cm, sori 2.6 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

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Arikuni (有国) was the fifth son of Kuniie and his first name was Tôgorô (藤五郎). Unfortunately, there is only one signed blade known by him, a tachi (picture 8) that had been shortened to an uchigatana (per nagasa definition a wakizashi today) but whose signature was preserved via orikaeshi. It was once owned by a certain Nakasawa (中沢) from Nagoya but who offered it to the Ise Shrine. The blade remains despite of the suriage an elegant shape that still gives you an idea of the noble and refined original tachi-sugata. It shows a compact ko-kissaki with a hint of ikubi and a dense ko-itame that is mixed with some nagare and masame and that appears with its abundance ji-nie as nashiji-hada. The hamon is a hoso-suguha in ko-nie-deki and the bôshi has a ko-maru-kaeri. Please note that there was another Awataguchi Arikuni smith active from whom a blade dated Kagen two (嘉元, 1304) is extant. Some see him as a possible later generation of Kuniie’s son but the Kokon Meizukushi Taizen lists him in its genealogic section as son of Kunitsuna, although beneath of Kunitsuna’s alleged other son, Kunihiro (国弘), what means that he possibly could have been Kunitsuna’s grandson.

Picture 8: wakizashi, jûyô-bunkazai, orikaeshi-mei “Arikuni” (有国), nagasa 56.3 cm, sori 0.9 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Next time I will introduce Kunitsuna (国綱), the sixth and youngest son of Kuniie, before we continue with the Awataguchi main line after Kunitomo and sons and students of the Six Brothers.

Kunitsuna (国綱), the youngest of the Six Awataguchi Brothers, was a very interesting figure. The Kotô Meizukushi Taizen states that he was born in Chôkan one (長寛, 1163) and that he moved at the request of the bakufu to Yamanouchi (山内) to the outskirts Kamakura when he was 42 years old, what would mean in Genkyû two (元久, 1205). The latter quote is found for the first time in the Muromachi-era sword publication Nôami Hon Mei Zukushi (能阿弥本銘尽, publ. 1483) by the way. At that time, Hôjô Tokimasa (北条時政, 1138-1215) was regent of the Kamakura-bakufu but most other sources quote Hôjô Tokiyori (北条時頼, 1227-1263) as the one who invited Kunitsuna – during the Kenchô (建長, 1249-1256) era – to Kamakura. The Kotô Meizukushi Taizen again says that Kunitsuna died in Kenchô seven (1256) at the age of 93. This would mean that he was working only about six or seven years for Tokiyori, what might be just enough when we bear in mind that he acted there as co-founder of a group of outstanding swordsmiths who developed a new forging tradition. In addition, Tokimasa was the very first Hôjô regent and held this post for less than two years. So it seems rather unlikely that it was him who invited all the swordsmiths as he was surely more busy with getting established the shikken regency of his family. And apart from that, we know that Tokiyori was one of the most renowned sword connoisseurs of his time. Incidentally, the Kenchô era equals his time as shikken. So either Kunitsuna did all what he did in Kamakura at a very high age and over the very last years of his life, or he was not born in 1163 as stated by the Kotô Meizukushi Taizen. But we also can’t rule it out completely as Tokiyori did not randomly recruit smiths but selected the greatest masters of his time, for example also Saburô Kunimune (三郎国宗) and Ichimonji Sukezane (一文字助真) from Bizen Province, and it is assumed that he as sword expert and political key figure of Kamakura not only wanted to have superior cutters but blades that would impress his circles on the basis of their aesthetical appearance. Thus it is possible that he asked the old master Kunitsuna and last survivor of the Six Awataguchi Brothers if he would come to Kamakura to lead a group of local smiths. There is, or rather was, a jûyô-bijutsuhin ôdachi (nagasa 114.5 cm) from the former possessions of the Uesugi (上杉) family that is regarded as kind of proof of Kunitsuna being in Kamakura around Kenchô but the whereabouts of the blade are unfortunately unknown (it is said that it had been confiscated by the occupying forces after WWII). The mei of the blade reads “Kamakura-jû Tôroku Sakon Kunitsuna” (鎌倉住藤六左近国綱) and the date “Kenchô gonen hachigatsu hi” (建長五年八月日, “a day in the eighth month Kenchô five [1253]”). The records of the Uesugi claim that this ôdachi was made by Kunitsuna at the same time he made the Onimaru for Hôjô Tokiyori and that it was handed down within the family at the latest since the old times they held the post of Kantô Kanrei, i.e. the Kantô region deputy of the shôgun, what was at the beginning of the Nanbokuchô period. But the records even claim at another point that the blade was initially owned by the ancestor of the family, Shigefusa (上杉重房, mid-Kamakura), when he moved from Kyôto to Yamanouchi during the Kenchô era. Well, the blade is lost as mentioned so not much can be said about the authenticity of its mei. Also that it once got the status of jûyô-bijutsuhin doesn’t mean much because at pre-WWII times, coming from a big daimyô collection often weighed more than actual quality and authenticity. There are a few tantô with the mei “Yamanouchi-jû Kunitsuna” (山内住国綱) going round but most experts agree that they were made noticeably later, i.e. end of Kamakura to Nanbokuchô, and, if authentic, might be works of a local descendant of Awataguchi Kunitsuna.

Picture 1: ôdachi, jûyô-bijutsuhin, (hardly legible) mei as stated above.

But let us see things from the point of view of Tokiyori. As a man of his rank, he had no other choince other than picking the crème de la crème of what was available his time, and this was Yamashiro, Bizen and Bitchû. We don’t know why he didn’t pick one of the great Ko-Aoe masters who had acted as goban-kaji too but as far as Yamashiro is concerned, only the Awataguchi school was active at that time as the de facto Rai founder Kuniyuki (国行) was just at establishing his school (he was active around Shôgen [正元, 1259-1260]). Of course there were also other skilled smiths active at that time, e.g. from the Hôju, Môgusa, or Ko-Naminohira schools, but none of them was so to speak “worthy enough” in terms of then ranks of craftsmen to aid the Kamakura regent with creating a new forging tradition. The same applies to the time-honored Yamato tradition. Many smiths were working in Yamato province since earliest times but their greatest masters were active significantly later than Tokiyori had started his initiative, for example the Tegai school founder Kanenaga (包永), the Shikkake school founder Norinaga (則長), and the Taima school founder Kuniyuki (国行) around Shôô (正応, 1288-1293), and the Hoshô school founder Kunimitsu (国光) around Kôan (弘安, 1278-88). While on the subject of Kunitsuna’s career, his name is also found on the questionable list of the six goban-kaji who allegedly worked for Gotoba in Jôkyû two (承久, 1220) in his exile on the island of Oki. Kunitsuna was granted with the honorary title Sakon Shôgen (左近将監) and bore the first name Tôroku (藤六) (also as background info for the Uesugi blade introduced in picture 1).

Due to his long life and his move to Kamakura, we are facing two different styles and differences in signature when talking about Kunitsuna. That means a slender and more elegant Yamashiro and Awataguchi style from his earlier years, and a more powerful style that emerged with his move to Kamakura. Well, this is the commonly forward theory but signed works of Kunitsuna are very rare (only eight are in existence to my knowledge) and so we can’t nail down for sure his exact artistic stages and the chronological backgrounds for his change of workmanship and signature but fact is, that the majority of extant works shows a more powerful style. That means, if he had worked most of his life in Kyôto and moved only towards the very end of his life to Kamakura, then actually more true Awataguchi-style blades should be extant. But on the other hand, it is also possible that he was more productive after having arrived in Kamakura, or that these blades were held in higher esteem and thus more often handed down than his earlier Yamashiro blades. Or the traditions are incorrect and he arrived in Kamakura at the prime of his career. Anyway, the first blade that I want to introduce is one that is thought he made whilst still in Kyôto (picture 2). It is a relative short jûyô-bunkazai tachi with an elegant and slender sugata with a koshizori and a pronounced funbari. The kitae is a dense ko-itame with plenty of ji-nie and a nie-utsuri and the hamon a ko-midare in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with kinsuji and whose nie increase noticeably from the monouchi upwards. The bôshi shows nie-kuzure and has a ko-maru-kaeri. The tang is ubu, relative long and in kijimonmo-gata. It has to be pointed out that the niji-mei is somewhat smaller than the other known mei. The blade was once worn by shôgun Tokugawa Yoshimune (徳川吉宗, 1684-1751) and Ienari (徳川家斉, 1773-1841) and was submitted for jûyô-bunkazai by Tokugawa Iesato (徳川家達, 1863-1940) in 1931. Since postwar times, it is preserved by the Tokugawa Reimeikai Foundation.

Picture 2: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 65.0 cm, sori 2.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

His most famous work is of course the aforementioned Onimaru (鬼丸) which can be seen in picture 3. Unlike the small Awataguchi-style tachi from picture 2, it is wide and magnificent. It has a deep toriizori with pronounced funbari, plenty of hira-niku, does not taper that much, and has a chû-kissaki that tends a hint to kamasu. The kitae is a ko-itame mixed with ko-mokume, plenty of jinie, and some jifu and the hamon is a wide notare-based midareba in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with chôji, ko-ashi, and yô. A prominent feature of this blade is the diagonal yubashiri-based koshiba that appears somewhat above the ha-machi, an approach in hardening, that is seen in slightly different ways also on his other Kamakura-style blades. Please note that the term “Kamakura-style” is not really a fixed nihontô term. I just use it here to distinguish between his early elegant and his late powerful blades. The bôshi of the Onimaru is a widely hardened midare-komi with a ko-maru-kaeri and much nie. The tang is ubu, curves strongly, ends in a kurijiri, and shows shallow katte-sagari yasurime. After being a heirloom of the Hôjô, the sword was owned by the Ashikaga family and went later through all the “prominent stations,” i.e. Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, Ieyasu, and was later presented by the Tokugawa to Emperor Meiji.

Picture 3: tachi, gyobutsu, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 79.2 cm, sori 3.0 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 4: The Muromachi-era kawa-zutsumi tachi-koshirae of the Onimaru-Kunitsuna

A blade that is close to the Onimaru in terms of workmanship and mei (although the tang has suffered somewhat in that area) is the tokubetsu-jûyô shown in picture 5. The blade is a little tired and lost some substance towards the tip but is otherwise outstanding. The kitae is a somewhat standing-out itame with nagare and ô-hada along the omote side and shows ji-nie and a faint nie-utsuri. The hamon is a ko-nie-laden suguha-based ko-chôji mixed with some gunome, ko-midare, ashi, yô, and sunagashi and kinsuji along the lower half. The bôshi is sugu and has a ko-maru-kaeri. The nie-utsuri forms a kind of mizukage-like appearance at the base, that means we see a certain approach in hardening that Kunitsuna’s later blades seem to have in common. The sword was once a heirloom of the Nishitakatsuji (西高辻) family that served on a hereditary basis as shintô priests the Dazaifu Tenmangû on Kyûshû.

Picture 5: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 85.8 cm, sori 3.5 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Next the jûyô-bunkazai that is preserved in the Hie-jinja (日枝神社) (picture 6). The blade is suriage and shows a dense ko-itame with plenty of fine ji-nie and a chôji-midare with ashi and yô that gets more nie-laden and displays conspicuous kinsuji and sunagashi along the lower half. The bôshi appears as somewhat undulating sugu-chô or notare-komi with a rather wide ko-maru-kaeri and some hakikake on the omote side. Interesting here are the horimono in the form of a futasuji-hi with bonji and suken on the haki-omote, and a bonji and a shiketsu on the ura side, the end of both lower engravings running due to the suriage into the tang. There was some discussion about if this might be a work of a different smith with the same name, mostly because the uncommon horimono and the relative sophisticated hamon, but in the meanwhile, it is accepted that it is a work of Awataguchi Kunitsuna.

Picture 6: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 69.4 cm, sori 1.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

The next tachi is a tokubetsu-jûyô and is more slender, deeply curved, and ends in a ko-kissaki. The jigane is a rather stading-out itame that is mixed with nagare, mokume and ô-hada and plenty of ji-nie, some chikei, and we see again the mizukage-like feature at the base that turns here into a jifu-utsuri which runs then all over the blade. The hamon is a widely hardened and nie-laden suguha-chô mixed with some notare, ko-chôji, ko-midare, thick ashi, yô, sungashi, kinsuji, and some hotsure, uchinoke, and yubashiri in places. The bôshi is sugu with a short ko-maru-kaeri and a hint of hakikake. The prominent jigane distinguishes Kunitsuna from his older Awataguchi brothers and the jifu-utsuri and strong nie (with visible ha-nie) make this blade look like Ko-Bizen or Ko-Hôki at a glance. But Ko-Bizen works from that time show a brighter nioiguchi and although they do show nie, they do not occur in that amount like here. And for a Ko-Hôki work, the steel is too bright, i.e. Yasutsuna and his contemporaries forged a more blackish jigane and their hamon has a more subdued nioiguchi. Apart from that, their works show more ha-hada, an overall even more standing-out hada, and have altogether a more rustic appearance.

Picture 7: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 67.3 cm, sori 2.5 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

And finally I want to address the fact that there are several blades going round, some quite old and of highest quality, that are signed with the niji-mei “Kunitsuna” but not attributable to Awataguchi Kunitsuna, at least not according to modern standards. The blade shown in picture 8 was a heirloom of the Ii family and offered by Ii Naonori (井伊直憲, 1848-1904) to the Iinoya Shrine (井伊谷宮) where it is preserved today. The records of the shrine say Awataguchi but this is dismissed and the jûyô-bunkazai designation also says “Kunitsuna, Kamakura period, province unknown.” The blade is a little suriage but maintains its elegant and tapering sugata with the koshizori that bends down towards the tip and the pronounced fubari that dates it at the latest to the early Kamakura period. So if it should turn out that it is a work of Awataguchi Kunitsuna, then surely from his early artistic period. The kitae is a dense but standing-out itame with some masame and fine ji-nie. The hamon is a midare that gets gradually wider towards the tip and that is mixed with chôji, even some kawazu-no-ko chôji, ashi, yô, kinsuji and sunagashi. There are nie which also appear in the bôshi. The bôshi is notare-komi with a ko-maru-kaeri. The signature is large and noticeably different from the other Kunitsuna mei. Incidentally. The jûyô-bunkazai designation says about the attribution that there were, among others, also a Bizen, Yamato, and an Iga Kunitsuna but it is difficult to say whose work it acutally is.

Picture 8: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 79.8 cm, sori 2.9 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

And then there is a jûyô-tachi whose signature is smaller and somewhat different (especially the character for “Kuni”) but of about the same typeface as the Onimaru and the tokubetsu-jûyô from picture 5, but which still got a conservative attribution via “Den,” i.e. “Kunitsuna (Den Awataguchi).” The blade is slender, has a deep koshizori that bends down towards the tip, a ko-kissaki, and interestingly a maru-mune. The kitae is a dense ko-itame with ji-nie and a jifu-utsuri and the hamon is a suguha-chô mixed with ko-midare, ko-chôji, many ashi and yô, and fine sunagashi and yubashiri. The nioiguchi is wide and the ha is full of nie. The bôshi is sugu with a short ko-maru-kaeri. The shinsa placed this blade on the basis of its jiba and sugata into the Awataguchi vicinity, i.e. to the earlier phase of Kunitsuna. The blade was once a heirloom of the Date (伊達) family who had received in from the court noble Konoe Motohiro (近衛基熈, 1648-1722).

Picture 9: tachi, jûyô-tôken, mei “Kunitsuna” (国綱), nagasa 68.6 cm, sori 2.1 cm, shinogi-zukuri, maru-mune

*

Now we are through with the Six Awataguchi brothers and next post will continue with the Awataguchi main line, i.e. Norikuni (則国), Kuniyoshi (国吉), and Yoshimitsu (吉光) before we close the school with the remaining noteworthy Awataguchi masters.

With this post I leave for a short vacation and will be back in office on Oct 19th. Thank you all for your loyalty as blog stats are pretty impressive (for me personal and also from the point of view that this is a nihontô blog in particular) by now keeping an average of about 6,000~8000 views per month. Top ten readers come from (from top to bottom): USA, Germany, UK, France, Japan, Netherlands, Italy, Australia, Poland, and Canada. You want more stats? Most search terms that lead to my site are “markus sesko” followed by “kotegiri masamune”, “honshu masamune”, “kuji kiri”, “higo koshirae”, “masamune hamon”, “hamon masamune, “a real masamune sword hamon”, and “masamune oshigata.” So I guess Masamune is still pretty omnipresent :) After my return we will continue with the Awataguchi School and of course with other interesting articles. So stay tuned and see you all towards the end of October.

We continue with the Awataguchi main line which was succeeded after Kunitomo by his son Norikuni (則国). The Kotô Meizukushi Taizen says that he was born in Jô´an four (承安, 1174) and that he died in Ryakunin one (暦仁, 1238) at the age of 65. Traditionally he is dated around Jôkyû (承久, 1219-1222) although some put him around Katei (嘉禎, 1235-1238), that means with Norikuni, we are slowly approaching mid-Kamakura. His first name was Tômanosuke (藤馬允) and like his uncle Kunitsuna (国綱) and his cousin Kagekuni (景国), he was part of the Oki-goban-kaji group. It seems that Norikuni has focused more on the production of tantô, or at least he is the early Awataguchi master of whom the most tantô are extant. But we are lacking a sound quantitative evidence base to say for sure what his main focus was and if the increased tantô production started with him or if the tantô production increased at all at a certain point in time or if there are just no such blades of the earlier smiths extant. To my knowledge, there are four signed Norikuni tachi going round, the most representative one being the kokuhô that was once a heirloom of the Ikeda (池田) family, the daimyô of the Tottori fief (鳥取藩) of Inaba province (see picture 1). This blade keeps despite of the suriage some of its originally deep koshizori, features a ko-kissaki, and is overall quite elegant and of a very harmonious tachi-sugata. The kitae is a very dense ko-itame with fine ji-nie and chikei and appears as nashiji-hada and the hamon is a ko-nie-laden hoso-suguha-chô with a little shallow notare sections that is mixed with ko-midare, ashi, yô and frequent kinsuji. The bôshi is sugu and shows a ko-maru-kaeri with kinsuji. In general we can say that Norikuni’s interpretations are a hint more nie-emphasized than that of his successors Kuniyoshi and Yoshimitsu. The tang is as mentioned suriage but its original katte-sagari yasurime can still be made out. The niji-mei is preserved at the very tip of the tang.

Picture 1: tachi, kokuhô, mei “Norikuni” (則国), nagasa 74.7 cm, sori 2.1 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune, please click here to see get some close-ups of the blade

Following the kokuhô, there are two tachi of Norikuni that bear the status of jûyô-bunkazai which I want to introduce in the following. One of them (see picture 2) is owned by the Atsuta-jingû but preserved in the Tôkyô National Museum. It is also slender and elegant and almost ubu, that means it retains its deep koshizori and also its funbari. The kitae is a dense ko-itame in nashiji with ji-nie and a faint nie-utsuri. The hamon is a suguha-chô in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with ko-chôji, ko-midare, ko-ashi, and kinsuji and the bôshi is notare-komi with a somewhat pointed ko-maru-kaeri.

Picture 2: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Norikuni” (則国), nagasa 72.1 cm, sori 2.7 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

The other jûyô-bunkazai (see picture 3) is preserved in the Konda-Hachimangû (誉田八幡宮, Ôsaka Prefecture). This tachi is with a nagasa of 81.1 cm rather long and has a wide and noticeably tapering mihaba (from 3.2 cm motohaba to 1.7 cm sakihaba), a koshizori, a thick kasane, plenty of niku, and a ko-kissaki. The kitae stands a little more out than at the aforementioned two blades and shows some masame towards the ha but is overall forged as itame with chikei and plenty of ji-nie. The hamon is a suguha in ko-nie-deki with a somewhat subdued nioiguchi that is mixed with ko-midare and many ko-ashi and that starts with a hint of yaki-otoshi. The bôshi is sugu with a wide ko-maru-kaeri and the tang is ubu and shows a shallow kurijiri. In addition, the name of the donator to the shrine is inlayed in gold in a carved out recess on the tang and the whole kinzôgan-mei reads “Ôhashi Nyûdô Shikibu Kyô Hô’in Ryûkei” (大橋入道式部卿法印竜慶, the donator) on the one, and “Kenjô Konda-Hachimangû moshi sejin kore o obau kami no bachi o ukubeki nari” (献上誉田八幡宮世人若奪之可受神罰也, “offered to the Konda-Hachimangû and if stolen, the stealer should receive divine punishment”) on the other side. Incidentally, Ôhashi Ryôkei (1582-1645) was a renowned calligrapher and tea master of the early Edo period. He served Hideyoshi and Ieyasu and the blade had been a family heirloom since the Muromachi period. The jûyô-bunkazai designation mentions that the tachi was handed down under the nickname Karigiri (鐘截, lit “temple bell cutter”) within the Ôhashi family.

Picture 3: tachi, jûyô-bunkazai, mei “Norikuni” (則国), nagasa 81.1 cm, sori 2.6 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 4 shows a signed tokubetsu-jûyô tachi that is ubu too, slender, and highly elegant. It shows a deep koshizori with funbari and a ko-kissaki and the kitae is an itame mixed with mokume that features plenty of ji-nie, chikei, and a faint nie-utsuri. The hamon is a hoso-suguha-chô in ko-nie-deki that is mixed with ko-midare, ko-chôji, ko-gunome, ashi, hotsure, uchinike, nijûba, and fine kinsuji. The bôshi is sugu and runs out as yakitsume. Please note that this blade too shows a brief yaki-otoshi and a thin and short koshibi just like the one on blade 2 by his father Kunitomo in the first Awataguchi chapter. And in direct comparison (see picture 5) the similarities become even more obvious (e.g. also the kijimono-style finish of the tang). By the way, this tachi of Norikuni had been a heirloom of the Kitabatake family since Kitabatake Akiie (北畠顕家, 1318-1338) had received it as a present from Emperor Godaigo.

Picture 4: tachi, tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Norikuni” (則国), nagasa 77.7 cm, sori 2.3 cm, shinogi-zukuri, iori-mune

Picture 5: Comparison Kunitomo top, Norikuni bottom.

Now to Norikuni’s tantô. A representative piece is the signed tokubetsu-jûyô (see picture 6) that ws once a heirloom of the Kuroda (黒田) family, the daimô of the Fukuoka fief (福岡藩) of Chikuzen province. The blade has normal proportions, i.e. mihaba and nagasa are neither wide nor sunnobi respectively, and an uchizori. The kitae is a dense ko-itame mixed with mokume and nagare and we see plenty of ji-nie and fine chikei. The hamon is a nie-laden suguha-chô to slightly undulating notare that is mixed with a conspicuous amount of ko-gunome, ko-ashi, and some nie-suji. The nioiguchi is rather wide and the bôshi is notare-komi with brief ko-maru-kaeri. Both sides show gomabashi which are close together and arranged more towards the mune, a feature that is typical for all Awataguchi horimono on tantô. And we find another Awataguchi featuere at Norikuni, namely that in many cases the smiths of this school added the exact same kind of horimono on each side whereas for their Rai colleagues engraved for example a suken on the omote and gomabashi on the ura side. But there are also exceptions to this “rule” as seen at a tokubetsu-jûyô mumei tantô attributed to Norikuni that shows a suken on the omote and a shôbu-hi on the ura side.

Picture 6: tantô, tokubetsu-jûyô, mei “Norikuni” (則国), nagasa 24.2 cm, uchizori, hira-zukuri, mitsu-mune (with wide top surface)

Last but not least it should not go unmentioned that again, we are facing slightly different signature styles but which are thought to go back to the different stages in the career of a single smith. There are somewhat larger and somewhat smaller mei and by trend we can say that he signed his tachi with a thinner chisel than his tantô which show a relative thickly chiselled signature. There was a ken of Norikuni discovered in recent years during repair works at a hall belonging to the Yokawa (横川) temple unit of the Enryaku-ji on Mt. Hiei that was hidden in a Buddhist statue. The ken (see link here) is now designated as cultural property of Takamatsu City, Kagawa Prefecture, as it is preserved in the local history museum and it shows the same thick mei as seen on tantô. Also interesting to note is that his character for “Kuni” is very similar to that of his son Kuniyoshi (see picture below). Both signed the left inner part of the box radical as three more or less horizontal and parallel strokes, met underneath by a pronounced arc that starts to the top right of the separating central stroke.

Norikuni mei left, Kuniyoshi mei right.

Finally received my copy of Gakken’s latest sword publication Nihon no Bi: Nihonto (The Japanese Sword) the other day (thanks to Jason). To tell you right away, I really really appreciate the approach of this book as it is the first in this category (of books coming from Japan) that comes fully bilingual. That means it is not, as so often, a sword book in Japanese with just an English index and here and there some half-hearted English captions, no, it is as mentioned truly bilingual. Or almost, as the descriptions of the tsuba and kodôgu were not translated. But not a big deal and I am aware of the fact that sometimes concessions have to be made to layout and to extent of a publication and that the focus was clearly on swords. Also Paul Martin did a great job with the translations and I am very glad the he did this as he is an expert himself and knows his stuff, i.e. we are luckily not dealing with “outsider” translations that leave ambiguities. This becomes the more evident in the extensive 40+ pages terminology section at the end of the book. So if you grab a copy, you not only have depictions and explanations of the great swords (with which I will deal in the following), you also get a detailed and comprehensive sword glossary that works as a fine reference by itself.

Now to the book itself, which is four-sectioned (or at least that is how I see it, your mileage may vary). First section introduces about 30 renowned blades in color and with certain parts in full size. Depending on the sword, also its mounting is depicted in color. This section is concluded by several fine koshirae with excellent details of their highlights and masterly tsuba and fittings. As most of them are also blown up to 200~300% (135~185% when it comes to tsuba), you can really appreciate subtle details in workmanship. The second section are the pullout pages which present 1:1 color pictures of about a dozen of renowned swords and their mountings. And this section is great as it gives newbies and others who don’t have access to handle and study superior Japanese swords in person a good feel of the excellence and what makes the fascination of these superior and so much more than edged weapons. Thus one tip: Some of the swords might look at a glance delicate and fragile for beginners when you open the book but when you pull out the pages fully and place them vertically on a (preferrably empty) table or on the floor and approach them just as you would pick them up at a sword appreciation (kantei) session, you will realize how magnificent and breathtaing they actually are! The third section provides the explanation of the blades introduced in sections 1 and 2 and comes in an appealing layout as each one page is reserved for one blade and due to the bilingual approach with the Japanese text and Paul’s translation right next to each other, this also provides a great exercise for those who are about to dig deeper into the subject of translating nihontô-related texts. And section four is the aforementioned terminology part.

My conclusion: This book should be found in every nihontô library as it also excellently serves as a teaser if someone interested asks you to tell him or her more about this fascinating subject and you can show him or her, via catchy pictures, what this is all about. The only small downer is that you can’t easily order it outside of Japan for example from amazon.com. But it is relative easy to create an account on amazon.co.jp (no, your amazon.com account won’t work for that and you need to register with a different email address) and order it from them. Five of five stars.