Chapter III: Interiors (2)

In the next figure (_fig. 124_) we have the sketch of a small room with the _tokonoma_ facing the verandah, and with no companion recess. The little window near the floor opened into the _tokonoma,_ which extended behind the partition as far as the upright beam. The post which formed one side of the _to__konoma_ was a rough and irregular‐shaped stick. The treatment of cutting away a larger portion of it, though hardly constructive, yet added a quaint effect to the room; while the cross‐beam of the _tokonoma._ usually a square and finished beam, in this case was in a natural state, the bark only being removed.

[Fig. 125.—Guest‐room of dwelling in Tokio.]

Fig. 125.—Guest‐room of dwelling in Tokio.

In _fig. 125_ is shown a room of the plainest description; it was severe in its simplicity. Here the _tokonoma,_ though on that side of the room running at right angles with the verandah, was in the corner of the room, while the _chigai‐dana_ was next to the verandah. The recesses were quite deep,—the _chigai‐dana_ having a single broad shelf, as broad as the depth of the recess, this forming the top of a spacious closet beneath. In the partition dividing these two recesses was a long narrow rectangular opening. The little bamboo flower‐holder hanging to the post of the _toko‐ bashira_ had, besides a few flowers, two long twigs of willow, which were made to bend gracefully in front of the _tokonoma._ The character of this room indicated that its owner was a lover of the tea‐ceremonies.

[Fig. 126.—Guest‐koom in Kiyomidzu, Kioto.]

Fig. 126.—Guest‐koom in Kiyomidzu, Kioto.

The next figure (_fig. 126_) is that of a room in the second story of the house of a famous potter in Kioto. This room was remarkable for the purity of its finish. The _toko‐bashira_ consisted of an unusually twisted stick of some kind of hard wood, the bark having been removed, exposing a surface of singular smoothness. The hooded partition over the _chigai‐ dana_ had for its lower border a rich dark‐brown bamboo; the vertical piece forming the other side of the _chigai‐dana_ was a black post hewn in an octagonal shape, with curious irregular crosscuts on the faces. The sliding doors closing the shelf in this recess were covered with gold paper. The _hikite_ consisted of sections of bamboo let in to the surface. The plaster of both recesses was a rich, warm, umber color. The ceiling consisted of large square panels of old cedar richly grained. This room was comparatively modern, having been built in 1868.

[Fig. 127.—Guest‐room of dwelling in Tokio.]

Fig. 127.—Guest‐room of dwelling in Tokio.

_Fig. 127_ represents a room in the second story of a house in Tokio. The recesses were remarkably rich and effective. The entire end of the room formed a recess, having a plaited ceiling; and within this recess were the _tokonoma_ and _chigai‐dana,_ each having its own hooded partition at a different level and depth,—the vertical partition usually dividing these recesses being represented only by a square beam against the wall. A reference, however, to the figure will convey a clearer idea of these features than any description. The ceiling, which was quite remarkable in its way, will be described later.

[Fig. 128.—Guest‐room of a country house.]

Fig. 128.—Guest‐room of a country house.

The next interior (_fig. 128_) represents a room in a country house of the poorer class. The recesses were of the plainest description. The _tokonoma_ was modified in a curious way by a break in the partition above, and beneath, this modification was a shelf wrought out of a black, worm‐eaten plank from some old shipwreck. The _chigai‐dana_ had an angular‐shaped shelf in one of its corners, and in the other corner two little shelves supported by a post. The floor of this recess was on a level with the mats, while the floor of the _tokonoma_ was only slightly raised above this level.

The figures of interiors thus far given present some idea of the infinite variety of design seen in the two recesses which characterize the best room in the house. The typical form having been shown in _fig. 96_, it will be seen how far these bays may vary in form and structure while still possessing the distinguishing features of the _tokonoma_ and _chigai‐ dana._ In the first recess hangs the ever present scroll, upon which may be a picture; or it may present a number of Chinese characters which convey some moral precept, or lines from some classical poem. On its floor rests the vase for flowers, a figure in pottery, an incense burner, a fragment of quartz, or other object, these being often supported by a lacquer stand. In the _chigai‐dana_ convenient shelves and closets are arranged in a variety of ways, to be used for a variety of purposes.

[Fig. 129.—Corner of guest‐room.]

Fig. 129.—Corner of guest‐room.

The arrangement of the cross‐ties in relation to the _tokonoma_ and _shōji_ is illustrated in _fig. 129_, which shows the corner of a room with the upper portion of the _tokonoma_ and _shōji_ showing. The use made of the ornamental‐headed nail is seen where the _kamoi_ joins the corner post.

In houses of two stories greater latitude is shown in the arrangement of these recesses. They may come opposite the balcony, and the _chigai‐dana_ may have in its back wall an opening either circular, crescent‐shaped, or of some other form, from which a pleasing view is obtained either of the garden below or some distant range beyond.

Thus far we have examined the room which would parallel our drawing‐room or parlor; the other rooms vary from this in being smaller, and having, of course, no recesses such as have been described. By an examination of the plans given in the first part of this chapter, it will be seen how very simple many of the rooms are,—sometimes having a recess for a case of drawers or shelves; a closet, possibly, but nothing else to break the rectangular outline, which may be bounded on all sides by the sliding _fusuma,_ or have one or more permanent partitions.

Another class of rooms may here be considered, the details of which are more severely simple even than those of the rooms just described. These apartments are constructed expressly for ceremonial tea‐parties. A volume might be filled with a description of the various forms of buildings connected with these observances; and indeed another volume might be filled with the minor details associated with their different schools.

In brief, the party comes about by the host inviting a company of four to attend the tea‐ceremony, and in their presence making the tea in a bowl after certain prescribed forms, and offering it to the guests. To be more explicit as to the mode of conducting this ceremony,—the tea is first prepared by grinding it to a fine, almost impalpable, powder. This may be done by a servant before the assemblage of the guests, or may be ordered ground from a tea shop; indeed, the host may grind it himself. This material, always freshly ground for each party, is usually kept in a little earthen jar, having an ivory cover,—the well‐known _cha‐ire_ of the collector. Lacquer‐boxes may also be used for this purpose. The principal utensils used in the ceremony consist of a _furo,_ or fire‐pot, made of pottery (or use may be made of a depression in the floor partially filled with ashes, in which the charcoal may be placed); an iron kettle to boil the water in; a bamboo dipper of the most delicate construction, to dip out the water; a wide‐mouthed jar, from which to replenish the water in the kettle; a bowl, in which the tea is made; a bamboo spoon, to dip out the powdered tea; a bamboo stirrer, not unlike certain forms of egg‐ beaters, by which the tea is briskly stirred after the hot water has been added; a square silk cloth, with which to wipe the jar and spoon properly; a little rest for the tea‐kettle cover, made of pottery or bronze or section of bamboo; a shallow vessel, in which the rinsings of the tea‐bowl are poured after washing; a brush, consisting of three feathers of the eagle or some other large bird, to dust the edge of the fire‐vessel; and finally a shallow basket, in which is not only charcoal to replenish the fire, but a pair of metal rods or _hibashi_ to handle the coal, two interrupted metal rings by which the kettle is lifted off the fire, a circular mat upon which the kettle is placed, and a small box containing incense, or bits of wood that give out a peculiar fragrance when burned. With the exception of the fire‐vessel and an iron kettle, all these utensils have to be brought in by the host with great formality and in a certain sequence, and placed with great precision upon the mats after the prescribed rules of certain schools. In the making of the tea, the utensils are used in a most exact and formal manner.

The making of the tea, watched by one knowing nothing about the ceremony, seems as grotesque a performance as one can well imagine. Many of the forms connected with it seem uselessly absurd; and yet having taken many lessons in the art of tea‐making, I found that with few exceptions it was natural and easy; and the guests assembled on such an occasion, though at first sight appearing stiff, are always perfectly at their ease. The proper placing of the utensils, and the sequence in handling them and making the tea are all natural and easy movements, as I have said. The light wiping of the tea‐jar, and the washing of the bowl and its wiping with so many peripheral jerks, the dropping of the stirrer against the side of the bowl with a click in rinsing, and a few of the other usual movements are certainly grotesquely formal enough; but I question whether the etiquette of a ceremonious dinner‐party at home, with the decorum observed in the proper use of each utensil, does not strike a Japanese as equally odd and incomprehensible when experienced by him for the first time.

This very brief and imperfect allusion has been made in order to explain, that so highly do the Japanese regard this ceremony that little isolated houses are specially constructed for the express purpose of entertaining tea‐parties. If no house is allotted for the purpose, then a special room is fitted for it. Many books are devoted to the exposition of the different schools of tea‐ceremonies, illustrated with diagrams showing the various ways of placing the utensils, plans of the tea‐rooms, and all the details involved in the observances.

The tea‐ceremonies have had a profound influence on many Japanese arts. Particularly have they affected the pottery of Japan; for the rigid simplicity, approaching an affected roughness and poverty, which characterizes the tea‐room and many of the utensils used in the ceremony, has left its impress upon many forms of pottery. It has also had an influence on even the few rustic and simple adornments allowed in the room, and has held its sway over the gardens, gateways, and fences surrounding the house. Indeed, it has had an effect on the Japanese almost equal to that of Calvinistic doctrines on the early Puritans. The one suppressed the exuberance of an art‐loving people, and brought many of their decorative impulses down to a restful purity and simplicity; but in the case of the Puritans and their immediate descendants, who had but little of the art‐spirit to spare, their sombre dogmas crushed the little love for art that might have dawned, and rendered intolerably woful and sepulchral the lives and homes of our ancestors; and when some faint groping for art and adornment here and there appeared, it manifested itself only in wretched samplers and hideous tomb‐stones, with tearful willow or death‐bed scenes done in cold steel. Whittier gives a good picture of such a home, in his poem “Among the Hills”:—

bookless, pictureless,
Save the inevitable sampler hung
Over the fireplace; or a mourning‐piece,—
A green‐haired woman, peony‐cheeked, beneath
Impossible willows; the wide‐throated hearth
Bristling with faded pine‐boughs, half concealing
The piled‐up rubbish at the chimney’s back.

[Fig. 130.—Tea‐room in Nan‐en‐ji temple, Kioto.]

Fig. 130.—Tea‐room in Nan‐en‐ji temple, Kioto.

[Fig. 131.—Tea‐room in Fujimi pottery, Nagoya.]

Fig. 131.—Tea‐room in Fujimi pottery, Nagoya.

But we are digressing. Having given some idea of the formal character of the tea‐ceremonies, it is not to be wondered at that special rooms, and even special buildings, should be designed and built expressly for those observances. We give a few illustrations of the interiors of rooms used for this purpose.

_Fig. 130_ is that of a room in Nan‐en‐ji temple, in Kioto, said to have been specially designed, in the early part of the seventeenth century, by Kobori Yenshiu,—a famous master of tea‐ceremonies, and a founder of one of its schools. The room was exceedingly small, a four and a half mat room I believe, which is the usual size. The drawing, from necessity of perspective, makes it appear much larger. The ceiling was of rush and bamboo; the walls were roughly plastered with bluish‐gray clay; the cross‐ ties and uprights were of pine, with the bark retained. The room had eight small windows of various sizes, placed at various heights in different parts of the room; and this was in accordance with Yenshiu’s taste. Only one recess, the _tokonoma,_ is seen in the room,—in which may hang at the time of a party a picture, to be replaced, at a certain period of the ceremony, by a hanging basket of flowers. The _ro,_ or fireplace, is a depressed area in the floor, deep enough to hold a considerable amount of ashes, as well as a tripod upon which the kettle rests.

_Fig. 131_ represents an odd‐looking tearoom, at the Fujimi pottery, in Nagoya, where tea was made and served to us by the potter’s daughter. The room was simple enough, yet quite ornate compared with the one first described. The ceiling consisted of a matting of thin wood‐strips, bamboo and red pine being used for the cross‐ties and uprights. The _tokonoma,_ having a bamboo post, is seen at the left of the figure. The _ro,_ in this case, was triangular.

[Fig. 132.—Tea‐room in Miyajima.]

Fig. 132.—Tea‐room in Miyajima.

In _fig. 132_ is represented a view of a small tea‐room at Miyajima; the chasteness of its finish is but feebly conveyed in the figure. Here the _ro_ was circular, and was placed in a wide plank of polished wood. The room was connected with other apartments of the house, and did not constitute a house by itself.

In some houses there is a special place or room adjoining the tea‐room, in which the tea‐utensils are kept properly arranged, and from which they are brought when tea is made, and to which they are afterwards returned with great formality. _Fig. 133_ represents one of these rooms in a house in Imado, Tokio. In this room the same simplicity of finish was seen. It was furnished with shelves, a little closet to contain the utensils, and a depressed area in the floor, having for its bottom a bamboo grating through which the water ran when emptied into it. Resting upon this bamboo grating were a huge pottery‐vessel for water and a common hand‐basin of copper. The floor was of polished wood. At the farther end was the entrance, by means of a low door, closed by _fusuma._

[Fig. 133.—Kitchen for tea‐utensils.]

Fig. 133.—Kitchen for tea‐utensils.

[Fig. 134.—Tea‐room in Imado, Tokio.]

Fig. 134.—Tea‐room in Imado, Tokio.

In _fig. 134_ is given the view of a room in a Tokio house that was extremely ornate in its finish. The owner of the house had built it some thirty years before, and had intended carrying out Chinese ideas of design and furnishing. Whether he had got his ideas from books, or had evolved them from his inner consciousness, I do not know; certain it is, that although he had worked into its structure a number of features actually brought from China, I must say that in my limited observations in that country I saw nothing approaching such an interior or building. The effect of the room was certainly charming, and the most elaborate finish with expensive woods had been employed in its construction. It seemed altogether too ornamental for the tea‐ceremonies to suit the Japanese taste. The ceiling was particularly unique; for running diagonally across it from one corner to the other was a stout bamboo in two curves, and upon this bamboo was engraved a Chinese poem. The ceiling on one side of the bamboo was finished in large square panels of an elaborately‐grained wood; on the other side were small panels of cedar. Exotic woods, palms, bamboo, and red‐pine were used for cross‐ties and uprights. The panels of the little closet in some cases had beautiful designs painted upon them; other panels were of wood, with the designs inlaid in various colored woods,—the musical instrument, the _biwa,_ shown in the sketch, being inlaid in this way. The walls were tinted a sober brown. It was certainly one of the most unique interiors that I saw in Japan. To the right of the _tokonoma_ the apartment opened into a small entry which led to a flight of stairs,—for this room was in the second story of the house. The corner of the room, as it appeared from the _tokonoma,_ is shown in _fig. 135_. The long, low window (which also shows in fig. 134) opened on the roof of the entrance below; another narrower and higher window opened on the roof of an L. In the little recess, which has for a corner‐post a crooked stick,—the crook forming one border of an opening in the corner.—was hung a picture or a basket of flowers.

[Fig. 135.—Corner of the tea‐room shown in Fig. 134.]

Fig. 135.—Corner of the tea‐room shown in Fig. 134.

The second stories of shops are often used as living rooms. _Fig. 136_ represents a room of this nature in a shop in Kawagoye, in Musashi, nearly three hundred years old. Two long, low windows, opening on the street, were deeply recessed and heavily barred; above these openings were low deep cupboards, closed by long sliding doors. The room was dusty and unused, but I could not help noticing in this old building, as in the old buildings at home, the heavy character of the framework where it appeared in sight.

Reference has been made to the fact that _kura,_ or fire‐proof buildings, are often fitted up for living‐rooms. _Fig. 137_ (see page 160) represents the lower room of the corner building shown on page 75 (_fig. 57_). It has already been stated that the walls of such a building are of great thickness, and that one small window and doorway are often the only openings in the room. The walls are consequently cold and damp at certain seasons of the year.

For the fitting up of such a room, to adapt it for a living‐place, a light frame‐work of bamboo is constructed, which stands away from the walls at a distance of two or three feet; upon this, cloth is stretched like a curtain. The frame‐work forms a ceiling as well, so that the rough walls and beams of the floor above are concealed by this device. At one side the cloth is arranged to be looped up like a curtain, so that one may pass outside the drapery.

[Fig. 136.—Room in second story of an old building in Kawagoye, Musashi.]

Fig. 136.—Room in second story of an old building in Kawagoye, Musashi.

The owner of this apartment was an eminent antiquarian, and the walls of the room were lined with shelves and cases which were filled with old books and pictures, rare scrolls, and bric‐a‐brac. A loft above, to which access was gained by a perilous flight of steps, was filled with ancient relics of all kinds,—stone implements, old pottery, quaint writing‐desks, and rare manuscripts. The cloth which formed this supplementary partition was of a light, thin texture; and when the owner went in search of some object on the other side of it, I could trace him by his candle‐light as he wandered about behind the curtain. The furniture us in the room, and shown in the sketch,—consisting of bookshelves, table, _hibachi,_ and other objects,—was in nearly every case precious antiques.

That the rooms of _kura_ were fitted up in this way in past times is evident in the fact that old books not only represent this method in their pictures, but special details of the construction of the framework are given. In an old book in the possession of Mr. K——, published one hundred and eighty years ago, a figure of one of these frames is given, with all the details of its structure, metal sockets, key‐bolts, etc., a copy of which may be seen in _fig. 138_.

[Fig. 137.—Room in kura fitted up as a library, Tokio.]

Fig. 137.—Room in kura fitted up as a library, Tokio.

In connection with this room, and the manner of looping up the curtains at the side, I got from this scholar the first rational explanation of the meaning of the two narrow bands which hang down from the upper part of the usual form of a Japanese picture,—the _kake‐mono._ That these were survivals of useful appendages,—rudimentary organs, so to speak, there could be no doubt. Mr. K——told me that in former times the pictures, mainly of a religious character, were suspended from a frame. Long bands trailed down behind the picture; and shorter ones, so as not to obscure it, hung down in front. When the picture was rolled up, it was held in position by tying these bands. When the custom came to hang these pictures permanently against the wall, the long bands were finally discarded, while the shorter ones in front survived. In old books there are illustrated methods by which curtain‐like screens hanging on frames were tied up in this way,—the long bands being behind, and the short ones showing in front. When the wind blew through the apartment the curtains were tied up; and, curiously enough, the bands on a _kake‐mono_ are called _fū‐tai,_ or _kaze‐obi,_ which literally means “wind‐bands.” This is the explanation given me; but it is quite probable that large pictures hanging against the walls, when disturbed by the wind, were tied up by these bands.

[Fig. 138.—Framework for draping room in kura.]

Fig. 138.—Framework for draping room in kura.

While the _kura_ generally stands isolated from the dwelling‐house, it is often connected with the house by a light structure of wood, roofed over, and easily demolished in case of a fire. Such an apartment may be used for a kitchen, or porch to a kitchen, or store‐room for household utensils. A figure is here given (_fig. 139_) showing the appearance of a structure of this kind, which is lightly attached to the sides of the _kura._ This apartment was used as a store‐room, and in the sketch is shown a wooden case, lanterns, and buckets, and such objects as might accumulate in a shed or store‐room at home.

[Fig. 139.—Space between dwelling and kura, roofed over and utilized as a
kitchen in Tokio.]

Fig. 139.—Space between dwelling and kura, roofed over and utilized as a
kitchen in Tokio.

The ponderous doors of the _kura,_ which are kept permanently open, have casings of boards held in place by a wooden pin, which passes through an iron staple in the door. This casing is to protect the door—which, like the walls of the _kura,_ is composed of mud and plaster supported by a stout frame—from being scarred and battered; and at the same time it is so arranged that in case of fire it can be instantly removed and the door closed. The light structure forming this porch may quickly burn down, leaving the _kura_ intact.

[Fig. 140.—Doorway of an old kura in Kioto.]

Fig. 140.—Doorway of an old kura in Kioto.

Oftentimes the outside of the _kura_ has a board‐casing kept in place by long wooden strips, which drop into staples that are firmly attached to the walls of the _kura._ These hooks may be seen in _fig. 57_, though in the case of this building the wooden casing had never been applied. Casings of this nature are provided the better to preserve the walls from the action of the weather.

In _fig. 139_ (see page 162) the _kura_ had been originally built some fifteen feet from the main house, and subsequently the intervening space had been roofed over as shown in the drawing.

The doors of the _kura_ are ponderous structures, and are usually left open for ventilation; a heavily grated sliding‐door, however, closes the entrance effectually when the thick doors are left open. _Fig. 140_ represents the doorway of an old _kura_ in Kioto illustrating these features. In _fig. 141_ the large key is the one belonging to the inner grated door, while fig. 142 shows the padlock to the outer doors.

[Fig. 141.—Key to kura, and bunch of keys.]

Fig. 141.—Key to kura, and bunch of keys.

[Fig. 142.—Padlock to kura.]

Fig. 142.—Padlock to kura.

The upper room of the _kura_ is often utilized as a store‐room, taking the place of the country attic; and one may find here bundles of dried herbs, corn, an old spinning‐wheel, chests, and indeed just such objects as ultimately find a resting‐place in our attics at home. In this section it would have been more systematic to deal with the _tokonoma_ and _chigai‐ dana_ separately; but in the description of interiors, it was difficult to describe them without including under the same consideration these recesses, as they form an integral part of the principal room.

In my remarks on house‐construction, reference was made to the ceiling and the way in which it is made and held in place, the form of ceiling there described being the almost universal one throughout the country. The Japanese word for ceiling is _tenjo,_—literally, “heaven’s well.”

In selecting wood for the ceiling, great care is taken to secure boards in which the grain is perfectly even and regular, with no signs of knots. A wood much prized for the ceiling, as well as for other interior finish, is a kind of cedar dug up from swamps in Hakone, and other places in Japan. It is of a rich, warm gray or brown color; and oftentimes planks of enormous thickness are secured for this purpose. This wood is called _Jin‐ dai‐sugi,_ meaning “cedar of God’s age.” A wood called _hi‐no‐ki_ is often used for ceilings.

It is rare to see a ceiling differing from the conventional form, consisting of light, thin, square strips as ceiling‐beams, upon which rest crosswise thin planks of wood with their edges overlapping. One sees this form of ceiling everywhere, from north to south, in inns, private dwellings, and shops. This form is as universal in Japan as is the ordinary white plaster‐ceiling with us. In many other forms of ceiling, however, wood of the most tortuous grain is preferred.

In the little houses made for the tea‐parties the ceiling is often of some rustic design,—either a layer of rush resting on bamboo rafters, or thin, wide strips of wood braided or matted like basket‐work.

Sometimes the ceiling instead of being flat is arching; that is, the sides run up like a roof, and meet above in a flat panel, or the ceiling may be made up of panels either square or angular.

[Fig. 143.—Panelled ceiling.]

Fig. 143.—Panelled ceiling.

A very elaborate and beautiful ceiling is seen in _fig. 127_ (see page 146). The structure is supposed to be in imitation of country thatched roof. The centre panel consists of a huge plank of cedar, the irregular grain cut out in such a way as to show the lines in high‐relief, giving it the appearance of very old wood, in which the softer lines have been worn away. The round sticks which form the frame for the plank, and those bordering the ceiling, as well as those running from the corners of the ceiling to the corners of the plank, are of red pine with the bark unremoved. The radiating rafters are of large yellow bamboo, while the smaller beams running parallel to the sides of the room consist of small dark‐brown and polished bamboo; the body of the ceiling is made up of a brown rush, called _hagi_,—this representing the thatch. This ceiling was simply charming; it was clean, pure, and effective; it gave the room a lofty appearance, and was moreover thoroughly constructive. Our architects might well imitate it without the modification of a single feature.

The ceiling figured on page 156 (_fig. 134_) consisted of square panels of cedar, arranged on either side of a double curved bamboo, which ran across the ceiling diagonally from one corner of the room to another. Upon the bamboo was engraved a Chinese poem, in beautiful characters. The beauty of this ceiling consisted not only in its general quaint effect, but in the rich woods and good workmanship everywhere displayed in its construction. The same might be said of the ceiling shown in fig. 126 (see page 145); here, indeed, the whole room was like a choice cabinet. Lately, these panelled ceilings have come more into use. _Fig. 143_ represents a form of ceiling which may be occasionally seen, consisting of large, square planks of _sugi_, with a framework of bamboo or _keyaki_ wood.

It seems a little curious that the space enclosed under the roof (a garret in fact) is rarely, if ever, utilized. Here the rats hold high carnival at night; and one finds it difficult to sleep, on account of the racket these pests keep up in racing and fighting upon the thin and resonant boards composing the ceiling. The rats make a thoroughfare of the beam which runs across the end of the house from one corner to the other; and this beam is called the _nedzumi‐bashira,_—literally, “rat‐post.”

In my remarks on house‐construction I made mention of the plaster walls, and of the various colored sands used in the plaster. There are many ways of treating this surface, by which curious effects are obtained. Little gray and white pebbles are sometimes mixed with the plaster. The shells of a little fresh‐water bivalve (_Corbicula_) are pounded into fragments and mixed with the plaster. In the province of Mikawa I saw an iron‐gray plaster, in which had been mixed the short fibres of finely‐chopped hemp, the fibres glistening in the plaster; the effect was odd and striking. In the province of Omi it was not unusual to see white plastered surfaces smoothly finished, in which iron‐dust had been blown evenly upon the surface while the plaster was yet moist, and, oxidizing, had given a warm brownish‐yellow tint to the whole.

In papering plaster‐walls rice‐paste is not used, as the larvae of certain insects are liable to injure the surface. In lieu of this a kind of seaweed similar to Iceland moss is used, the mucilaginous portion of which forms the cement. This material is used in sizing paper, and also in the pasteboard or stiff paper which is made by sticking a number of sheets together.

Plastered rooms are often papered; and even when the plaster is tinted and the plastered surface is left exposed, is customary to use a paper called _koshi‐bari,_ which is spread on the wall to a height of two feet or more in order to protect the clothes from the plaster. This treatment is seen in common rooms.

Simple and unpretending as the interior of a Japanese house appears to be, it is wonderful upon how many places in their apparently naked rooms the ingenuity and art‐taste of the cabinet‐maker can be expended. Naturally, the variety of design and finish of the _tokonoma_ and _chigai‐dana_ is unlimited save by the size of their areas; for with the sills and upright posts, the shelves and little closets, sliding‐doors with their surfaces for the artists’ brush, and the variety of woods employed, the artisan has a wide field in which to display his peculiar skill. The ceiling, though showing less variety in its structure, nevertheless presents a good field for decorative work, though any exploits in this direction outside the conventional form become very costly, on account of the large surface to deal with and the expensive cabinet‐work required. Next to the _chigai‐ dana_ in decorative importance (excepting of course the ceiling, which, as we have already seen, rarely departs from the almost universal character of thin boards and transverse strips), I am inclined to believe that the _ramma_ receives the most attention from the designer, and requires more delicate work from the cabinet‐maker. It is true that the areas to cover are small, yet the designs which may be carved or latticed,—geometric designs in fret‐work, or perforated designs in panel,—must have a strength and prominence not shown in the other interior finishings of the room.

The _kamoi,_ or lintel, as we have seen, is a beam that runs entirely across the side of the room at the height of nearly six feet from the floor (_fig. 103_). On its under surface are the grooves in which the _fusuma_ run; between this beam and the ceiling is a space of two feet or more depending, of course, upon the height of the room. The height of the beam itself from the floor, a nearly constant factor, is always lower than are our doorways, because the average height of the Japanese people is less than ours; and aggravatingly low to many foreigners is this beam, as can be attested by those who have cracked their heads against it in passing from one room to another. The space between the _kamoi_ and the ceiling is called the _ramma,_ and offers another field for the exercise of that decorative faculty which comes so naturally to the Japanese. This space may be occupied simply by a closed plastered partition, just as in our houses we invariably fill up a similar space which comes over wide folding doors between a suite of rooms. In the Japanese room, however, it is customary to divide this space into two or more panels,—usually two; and in this area the designer and wood‐worker have ample room to carry out those charming surprises which are to be seen in Japanese interiors.

[Fig. 144.—Ramma in Hakòne Village.]

Fig. 144.—Ramma in Hakòne Village.

The designs are of course innumerable, and may consist of diaper‐work and geometric designs; or each panel may consist of a single plank of wood with the design wrought out, while the remaining wood is cut away, leaving the dark shadows of the room beyond as a back‐ground to the design; or the design may be in the form of a thin panel of cedar, in which patterns of birds, flowers, waves, dragons, or other objects are cut out in perforated work. Fret‐work panels are very often used in the decoration of the _ramma,_ of designs similar to the panels now imported from Japan; but the figures are worked out larger patterns.

[Fig. 145.—Bamboo ramma.]

Fig. 145.—Bamboo ramma.

Light and airy as the work seems to be, it must nevertheless be strongly made, as it is rare to see any displaced or broken portions in panels of this nature.

The design represented in _fig. 144_ is from a _ramma_ in an old house in the village of Hakòne. The room was very large, and there were four panels in the _ramma,_ which was nearly twenty‐four feet long. A light trellis of bamboo is a favorite and common device for this area. Fig. 145 gives a simple The design represented in _fig. 144_ is from a _ramma_ in an old house in the village of Hakòne. The room was very large, and there were four panels in the _ramma,_ which was nearly twenty‐four feet long. A light trellis of bamboo is a favorite and common device for this area. _Fig. 145_ gives a simple form of this nature, which may be often seen. In a house in Tokio we saw a similar design carried out in porcelain (_fig. 146_),—the central vertical rod having a dark‐blue glaze, while the lighter horizontal rods were white in color. It should be understood that in every case the interspaces between the designs, except in the perforated ones, are freely open to the next room. By means of these open _ramma_ much better ventilation of the rooms is secured when the _fusuma_ is closed. A combination of perforated panels and a grating of bamboo is often seen (_fig. 147_).

[Fig. 146.—Porcelain ramma in Tokio.]

Fig. 146.—Porcelain ramma in Tokio.

[Fig. 147.—Ramma of bamboo and perforated panel.]

Fig. 147.—Ramma of bamboo and perforated panel.

The _ramma_ requiring great skill in design and execution are those in which the wood‐carver, having his design drawn upon a solid plank, cuts away all the wood about it, leaving the design free; and this is then delicately wrought.

In an old house at Gojio, Yamato, is a _ramma_ having a single panel the length of the room. _Fig. 148_ illustrates this design, which consists of chrysanthemums supported on a bamboo trellis, and was carved out of a single plank, the flowers and delicate tracery of the leaves being wrought with equal care on both sides; in fact, the _ramma_ in every case is designed to be seen from both rooms. I have often noticed that in quite old houses the _ramma_ was of this description. In an old house at Yatsushiro, in Higo, I saw a very beautiful form of this nature (_fig. 149_). The _ramma_ was divided into two panels, and the design was continuous from one panel to the other. It represented a rustic method of conducting water by means of wooden troughs, propped up by branched sticks, and sticks tied together. The representation of long leaves of some aquatic plant, with their edges ragged by partial decay, was remarkably well rendered. The plank out of which the design was wrought must have been less than an inch in thickness, and yet the effect of relief was surprising. A white substance like chalk filled the interstices of the carving, giving the appearance that at one time the whole design had been whitened and the coloring matter had subsequently worn away. The house was quite old, and the work had been done by a local artist.

It is a remarkable fact, and one well worth calling attention to, that in the smaller towns and villages, in regions far apart, there seem to be artistic workmen capable of designing and executing these graceful and artistic carvings,—for such they certainly are. Everywhere throughout the Empire we find good work of all kinds, and evidence that workmen of all crafts have _learned_ their trades,—not “served” them,—and are employed at home. In other words, the people everywhere appreciate artistic designs and the proper execution of them; and, consequently, men capable in their various lines find their services in demand wherever they may be. I do not mean to imply by this general statement that good workmen in Japan are not drawn to the larger cities for employment, but rather that the smaller towns and villages everywhere are not destitute of such a class, and that the distribution of such artisans is far more wide and general than with us. And how different such conditions are with us may be seen in the fact that there are hundreds of towns and thousands of villages in our country where the carpenter is just capable of making a shelter from the weather; and if he attempts to beautify it—but we will not awaken the recollection of those startling horrors of petticoat scallops fringing the eaves and every opening, and rendered, if possible, more hideous by the painter.

Throughout the breadth and length of that land of thirty‐six million people men capable of artistic work, and people capable of appreciating such work, abound. In our land of fifty‐five millions one has to seek the great centres of population for similar work,—for elsewhere the good work and its appreciation are exceptional.

At Nagoya, in the house of a poor man, I saw a simple and ingenious form of _ramma,_ in which two thin boards, one of light and the other of dark cedar, had been cut in the form of mountain contours. These were placed in juxtaposition, and from either side the appearance of two ranges of mountains was conveyed. _Fig. 150_ gives a faint idea of the appearance: of this simple _ramma._ There are many suggestions in the decoration and utilization for ventilating rooms through certain portions of the frieze, which might be adopted with advantage in the finish of our interiors.

[Fig. 148.—Carved wood ramma in Gojio Village, Yamato.]

Fig. 148.—Carved wood ramma in Gojio Village, Yamato.

[Fig. 149.—Carved wood ramma in town of Yatsushiro, Higo.]

Fig. 149.—Carved wood ramma in town of Yatsushiro, Higo.

[Fig. 150.—Ramma, composed of two thin boards, in Nagoya, Owari.]

Fig. 150.—Ramma, composed of two thin boards, in Nagoya, Owari.

As the room, when closed, receives its light through the _shōji,_ the windows proper—that is, certain openings in permanent partitions which may be regarded as windows—have in most cases lost their functional character, and have become modified into ornamental features merely, many of them being strictly decorative, having none of the functions of a window whatever. These openings assume an infinite variety of forms, and appear in the most surprising places in the room. They may be placed low down near the floor, or close to the ceiling; indeed, they occur between the rooms when permanent partitions are present, and similar openings may be seen in the partition which separates the _tokonoma_ from the _chigai‐ dana._ A window often occurs in a partition that continues some little distance beyond the outer edge of the _tokonoma._ This window is usually square, and is closed by a _shōji._ The upper cross‐piece of the _shōji_ frame projects at each end, so that it may be hung in place on iron hooks (_fig. 151_). If the window comes near the _tokonoma_ the _shōji_ is hung on the outside of the room, as its appearance in this way is better from within. If it occurs in a partition near the _chōdzu‐bachi,_ the _shōji_ is hung inside the room. Sometimes the _shōji_ rests on grooved cleats or bars, which are fastened above and below the window, and oftentimes it runs inside the partition,—that is, in a partition that is double. The _shōji_ in this case is often made in two portions, and parts to the right or left. The frame‐work of the _shōji_ forming the windows is often a marvel of exquisite taste. The designs are often geometric figures, as in _fig. 152_; though other designs are seen, as in _fig. 153_, representing a mountain. These designs, being made of very thin strips of white pine, it would seem that in such examples portions of the frame‐work must have been fastened to the paper to keep them in place, for there are no means of sustaining such a frame in position without some such method.

At Nagoya, in an old house, I saw a remarkable partition of dark cedar, in which a circular window, five feet in diameter, was occupied by a panel of thin cedar, in which was a perforated design of waves; the drawing was of the most graceful description. The curious, formal, curled tongues of water, like young sprouting ferns, the long graceful sweep of the waves, and the circular drops suspended above the breaking crests presented a charming effect, as the light coming through from the outside illuminated these various openings.

[Fig. 151.—Shōji for window.]

Fig. 151.—Shōji for window.

[Fig. 152.—Shōji‐frame for window.]

Fig. 152.—Shōji‐frame for window.

[Fig. 153.—Shōji‐frame for window.]

Fig. 153.—Shōji‐frame for window.

When these windows occur in the second story they are arranged to overlook some pleasant garden or distant landscape; for this purpose the window is usually circular, though it may be in the shape of the crescent moon, or fan‐shaped; indeed, there seems to be no end to designs for these apertures. Openings of this nature between rooms may or may not have _shōji,_ but they always have a lattice‐work of bamboo, or some other material, arranged in certain ornamental ways. The outside windows not only have the _shōji,_ but may have an ornamental lattice‐work as well. In _fig. 121_ the large circular window next the _tokonoma_ had a lattice‐ work of bamboo arranged in an exceedingly graceful design.

Great attention is devoted to the window which comes in the recess used for writing purposes. The frame of this window may be lacquered, and the lattice‐work and _shōji_ are often marvels of the cabinet‐maker’s art. Windows of curious construction are often placed in some passage‐way or space at the end of the verandah leading to the lavatory, when one exists. The accompanying figure (_fig. 154_) shows a window of this nature, seen from the outside; the bars were of iron, and below the opening the wood‐ finish consisted of alternate panels of cedar‐bark and light wood.

[Fig. 154.—Window.]

Fig. 154.—Window.

There are hundreds of forms of these windows, or _mado,_ as they are called. The few to which allusion has been made serve to give one some idea of the almost entirely ornamental character of these openings. It is worthy of note that each form has its appropriate name, and books are specially prepared, giving many designs of windows and their modes of construction.

In the chapter on Gardens a few descriptions and sketches are given of other forms of windows belonging to summer‐houses.

The open character of the Japanese house has caused the development of a variety of forms of portable screens, bamboo shades, curtains, and the like, upon which much ingenuity of construction and an infinite amount of artistic talent have been expended. The _biyō‐bu,_ or folding screens, are too well known to require more than a passing allusion. These consist of a number of panels or folds covered on both sides with stout paper. A narrow border of wood forms an outer frame, and this may be plain or lacquered. The end folds have the corners as well as other portions of its frame decorated with wrought metal pieces. Just within the frame runs a border of brocade of varying width, and on its inner edge a narrow strip of brocade; within this comes the panel or portion to receive the artist’s efforts. Each fold or panel may have a separate picture upon it; or, as is most usually the case, a continuous landscape or composition covers the entire side of the screen. Many of the great artists of Japan have embodied some of their best works on screens of this kind, and the prices at which some of these are held are fabulous.

The rich and heavily‐gilded screens now so rare to obtain are marvels of decorative painting. While the front of the screen may have a broad landscape, the back may be simply a plain gold surface, or have some sketchy touches of bamboo, pine, etc., in black. I have been told that the gold‐leaf was so thick on many of the old screens, that the sacrilege has often been committed of destroying them for the gold contained on their surfaces.

The six‐panelled gold‐screen is, beyond all question, the richest object of household use for decorative purposes ever devised. There certainly is no other device in which so many decorative arts are called into play. The rich lacquered frame, the wrought metallic mountings, the border of gold brocade, and the great expanse for the artist’s brush (for when both sides of a six‐fold screen is decorated, an area is obtained nearly five feet in height and twenty‐four feet in length) give great variety for richness of adornment. The rich, dead gold‐leaf with which it is gilded softens the reflections, and gives a warm, radiant tone to the light. Its adjustable nature permits it to display its painting in every light. We refer now, of course, to the genuine old gold‐screens which came in sets of two. One possessing a set of these screens may consider himself particularly fortunate. The one figured (_fig. 155_) has depicted upon it a winter scene painted by Kano Tsunenobu, and is nearly one hundred and seventy years old; the companion of this has represented upon it a summer scene, by the same artist. On the reverse sides are painted with bright and vigorous touches the bamboo and pine. _Fig. 156_ shows one corner of the screen‐frame with its metal mounting. These screens may have two folds, or three, or even six, as in this case. A set of screens when not in use are enclosed in silk bags, and then placed in a long, narrow wooden box (_fig. 157_). This box, like other articles of household use, such as bureaus and chests of drawers, has long hanging iron handles, which when turned upwards project above the level of the top, forming convenient loops through which a stick may be passed,—and thus in case of fire may be easily transported upon the shoulders of men.

[Fig. 155.—Biyō‐bu, or folding screen.]

Fig. 155.—Biyō‐bu, or folding screen.

[Fig. 156.—Wrought metallic mounting of screen frame.]

Fig. 156.—Wrought metallic mounting of screen frame.

When the screen is unfolded and placed on the floor, various devices are provided to prevent the end panels being swayed by the wind. These devices may be in the shape of some metal figure which acts as a check, or a heavy weight of pottery made in the shape shown in _fig. 158_, the end of screen fitting into the slot in the weight.

[Fig. 157.—Screen‐box.]

Fig. 157.—Screen‐box.

On certain festival days, it is customary for the people bordering the wider thoroughfares to throw open their houses and display their screens; and in Kioto, at such times, one may walk along the streets and behold a wonderful exhibition of these beautiful objects.

[Fig. 158.—Foot‐weight for screen. ]

Fig. 158.—Foot‐weight for screen.

A screen peculiar to Kioto, and probably farther south, is seen, in which panels of rush and bamboo split in delicate bars are inserted in each leaf of the screen. Such a screen when spread admits a certain amount of light as well as air, and may be used in summer.

A low screen of two folds, called a _furosaki biyō‐bu_ is placed in front of the _furo,_ or fire‐vessel, used for boiling water for tea. The purpose of this is to screen the _furo_ from the wind and prevent the ashes from being blown about the room. Sometimes these screens are made in a rigid form of wood, with the wings at right angles, the panels being of rush; and in the corner of the screen a little shelf is fixed, upon which the tea‐utensils may be placed. Such an one is here figured (_fig. 159_); there are many designs for this kind of screen.

[Fig. 159.—Furosaki Biyō‐bu.]

Fig. 159.—Furosaki Biyō‐bu.

In the old‐fashioned _genka,_ or hall‐way, there stands a solid screen of wood with heavy frame, supported by two transverse feet. This screen is called a _tsui‐tate,_ and is an article of furniture belonging to the hall. It is often richly decorated with gold lacquer, and is usually much lower in height than the ordinary screen. In old Japanese picture‐books this form is often represented. Diminutive models of the _tsui‐tate_ (_fig. 160_) are made in pottery or porcelain, and these are for the purpose of standing in front of the ink‐stone to prevent the mats from being spattered when the ink is rubbed. In another form of _tsui‐tate_ a stand is made having uprights placed in such a way that a screen covered with stout paper or a panel may be placed upon the stand and held in a vertical position by these uprights, as shown in fig. 161.

[Fig. 160.—Model of tsui‐tate in pottery.]

Fig. 160.—Model of tsui‐tate in pottery.

When the _shōji_ are removed, and the room thrown wide open to the light and air, curtains composed of strips of bamboo or rush are used as sun‐ screens; these are generally hung up just below the edge of the supplementary roof or _hisashi_ or may be suspended just outside the room. They can be rolled up and tied, or dropped to any desired length. These curtains may be either plain or have traced upon them delicate designs of vines or gourds, or conventional patterns. These designs are produced either by the joints on the bamboo being adjusted to carry out a zigzag or other design, as shown in _fig. 162_ (A.), or else the thin strips of bamboo may have square notches cut out from their lower edges as in fig. 162 (B). In this case the shade of the room within gives the necessary back‐ground to bring out the design as shown in fig. 163. These devices are called _noren;_ if made of bamboo, they are called _sudare._

In illustrated books there is often seen figured a screen such as is shown in _fig. 164_. This consists of a lacquered stand, from which spring two upright rods, which in turn support a transverse bar not unlike some forms of towel‐racks; dependent from this is a curtain of cloth, which is long enough to sweep the floor. I have never seen this object, though it is probably in use in the houses of the Daimios.

[Fig. 161.—Tsui‐tate.]

Fig. 161.—Tsui‐tate.

[Fig. 162.—Bamboo curtains.]

Fig. 162.—Bamboo curtains.

[Fig. 163.—Bamboo curtain.]

Fig. 163.—Bamboo curtain.

[Fig. 164.—Curtain screen.]

Fig. 164.—Curtain screen.