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Hokusai’s Sunrise at Susaki Point in UMMA’s Japanese Collection. March 8, 2024. Photo by Anzhu Ling.
Surimono: Convergence of Art and Poetry
Surimono: Convergence of Art and Poetry
by Anzhu Ling
A great crashing wave, storm-tossed fishing boats, and Mount Fuji barely visible in the distance. Hokusai is best known for his woodblock print The Great Wave off Kanagawa (1831), one of thirty-six landscape prints he undertook in his early seventies. As I browsed through the University of Michigan Museum of Art (UMMA) keen on finding a few from the series, I stumbled upon one of Hokusai’s more obscure works. Named Sunrise at Susaki Point (1800-1820), it was known as a surimono- a subcategory of Japanese woodblock print that often combined poetry and art together. As an artist, these prints captivated me with their rich history and coexistence between printed drawing and written characters.
Hokusai’s Sunrise at Susaki Point is quite small, with dimensions of 18x13 centimeters (UMMA). It was barely noticeable as I descended down the stairs to the Japanese section occupied by Samurai armor, ancient scrolls, and several post modern pieces. The exhibit was dark, illuminated mostly by warm spotlights which helped conjure the illusion of time travel. As I approached Sunrise at Susaki Point, it felt underwhelming at first. The surimono’s age, colors, and traditional flat style helped exacerbate its lack of contrast and vibrancy. This was partially due to the process of how Japanese woodblock prints are made: Hokusai painted the piece, a craftsman carved the many woodblock reliefs from it, and someone chose the colors and impressed every piece upon the mulberry paper similar to a stamp (Bull).
Hokusai’s Sunrise at Susaki Point on the left of two other woodblock prints. March 8, 2024. Photo by Anzhu Ling.
Two men play a game of Go in Hokusai’s A Keg of Sake and a Basket of Oranges. Art Institute of Chicago.
When I took in Hokusai’s print, it felt different compared to the other prints present: smaller, neater writing, and more like a postcard. This is because surimono are a subset of Japanese woodblock prints not meant for large scale commercial printing, but were instead given as gifts. A lot of the surimono featured poetry because they were most often commissioned by Poetry clubs for special occasions (Shūgō and Clark). This creates an equilibrium between the writing and illustrations, making it feel like a complete piece of art despite the two different mediums. Observing this balance made me consider if there was any way I could incorporate writing/poetry into my paintings without one eclipsing the other.
Juxtaposing this print to another similar surimono by Hokusai, A Keg of Sake and a Basket of Oranges, a similar relationship between poetry and art can be observed. This one was commissioned by the Yomo poetry club as a gift for a young Kabuki actor named Arashi Tokusaburo (Keyes). It features two old Chinese men playing Go inside a peeled orange. According to the author, “Hokusai chose this unusual image to illustrate ‘long life,’ … a thoughtful wish for Tokusaburo” (Keyes). The art works in tandem to the poetry, with every poem referencing the actor, his roles, and oranges. Sunrise at Susaki Point is similar, with the art and poems both playing off each other and sharing a unified subject matter. As an artist it was inspiring to see the clever synergism between the two forms of expression.
Finally, moving a few inches away from the glass, I took in the fine details. The print’s paper had a rough texture with many indentations that added to its charm. On the left are the poems, on the right is a geisha, admiring the rising sun at Susaki Point (a popular tourist destination at the time). As I appreciated the fine craftsmanship, a more somber feeling crept over me- knowing that this form of art has mostly passed into antiquity and the UMMA likely held the last surviving version of this print. This has already made me plan a return trip to the museum as there are many pieces that I don’t have any historical context to.
Stepping back from the surimono, I came away with many new ideas. Discovering Sunrise at Susaki Point has greatly helped inform me about a historical art practice amongst literaries that utilizes artists, craftsmen, and poetry- but also that art and writing can inhabit the same canvas. As an artist half of the work is to stay curious and informed so we have a deep well of ideas to draw from. Appreciating Hokusai’s work has expanded my understanding, and makes me excited to experiment fusing together art and poetry/writing moving forward.
Works Cited
Bull, David. “What Are Surimono.” History of Surimono, www.woodblock.com/surimono/history.html.
Accessed 31 Mar. 2024.
Katsushika Hokusai. “A Keg of Sake and a Basket of Oranges”. 1820, Art Institute of Chicago,
https://www.artic.edu/artworks/81254/a-keg-of-sake-and-a-basket-of-oranges.
Accessed 10 April 2024.
Katsushika Hokusai. “Sunrise at Susaki Point (New Year’s Print).” Sunrise at Susaki Point (New Year’s Print) – University of Michigan Museum of Art, umma.umich.edu/objects/sunrise-at-susaki-point-new-years-print-1954-1-472/.
Accessed 31 Mar. 2024.
Katsushika Hokusai. “Sunrise at Susaki Point (New Year’s Print)”. 1800-1820, University of Michigan Museum of Art, Ann Arbor. Photo of Hokusai’s surimono. Anzhu Ling. 8 March. 2024. Author's personal collection
Katsushika Hokusai. “Under the Wave off Kanagawa (Kanagawa oki nami ura)”. 1830–32,
Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago
Keyes, Roger S. “Unpeeling the Orange: Reinterpreting a ‘Surimono’ by Hokusai.”
Impressions, no. 27, 2005, pp. 54–57.
Shūgō, Asano, and Timothy T. Clark. “An Overview of Surimono.” Impressions, no. 20,
1998, pp. 16–37.
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