Netsuke horses at the British Museum

I'm walking back along Drury lane passing the shops and cafes, the road bursting with vans, cars and cyclists and a dustbin lorry pushes up next to me. I pull myself away from the chaos and pause for a moment to look at a curtain of pink ballet shoes suspended from a shop window - then quickly along Museum Street, into Great Russell street and I arrive at the British Museum. This time I'm early and I wait in the room of Chinese ceramics. I'm making sure I don't miss out on the full two hour time slot. It will be busy in the study room today. There are also viewings for Japanese woodblock prints and a painted hanging scroll of a roaring tiger.

The Study Room

Lucy is looking after the study room today and has already put the box of netsuke on the table for when I arrive. Each one is carefully laid in tissue paper. She brings me a pair of blue plastic gloves, allowing me to handle the netsuke. I carefully pick out one of the standing horses which is curled round in the shape of a horseshoe. Head curved towards its front hooves, back arched with tail between its legs and front and back hooves touching making a natural hole for a toggle. I am able to see the netsuke from all angles and when I turn it upside down, delicately carved heels of the horses hooves are revealed. This standing horse is not made for standing but for hanging so I lay it down to draw. Lucy informs me that they have ways to stand the netsuke securely for photo shoots. This enables the photographer to get a good close up of a standing horse standing!

Horse Tales

It's only by drawing that I spend more time looking and become more present and these impossible postures remind me that these objects are the carver's interpretation. Was this netsuke carved from observing a real horse or from a collection of sketches or paintings or from memory? My drawing is an interpretation of the object and my carving will be another step removed like a visual game of Chinese Whispers until the final print will be something quite different to the original.

I put the standing horse back in its tissue paper and gently take 5 Horses into the palm of my hand. This netsuke of 5 Horses huddled together is less than 4cm in length and I'm not sure how to begin the drawing. There is so much detail in such a tiny space and when I turn the netsuke upside down, a jigsaw puzzle of tiny hooves surround the inscription of the carver's signature.

Time ticks quickly so I make two small sketches of the 5 Horses and move on to the Seated Horse with its head curled into its hooves. Sitting on its hind legs and back curved over onto its front legs reminds me more of how a dog would sit. It also reveals how little I know about the anatomy of a horse and I ponder for a moment - how does a horse sit?

I sketch the seated horse and then another standing horse with a bulbous muzzle and tail whipped around the side of its body pressing into its ribs. It's like a caricature of a horse and my drawing exaggerates this even more.

Finally I take the last netsuke from the box and make a drawing in the short amount of time I have left. If I was to view this netsuke only from underneath, the cluster of delicately carved hooves may give a clue that this is a protective mother Goat sheltering its Kid.

Netsuke - The Foxes Carve & Print

I'm back in the studio carving the foxes. As I carve the block I realise I am not focused. The lens in my brain turns slowly anticlockwise and my mind can't catch up with what's in front of me. My hands are restless and eager to carve but too quickly and impatiently. I'm not present and take a chunk out of a tail, then another tail, then a hip, then a toe but I keep going and finish carving until I have something to print. I dampen a few small squares of Hosho paper for some test prints and print off a few to check the image. It's not as bad as I imagined and even with the mistakes I like the feel of the print.

“Like the vastness of space, like a universe unlimited, untold, unattainable, and inscrutable- that is the woodcut.”

— Shiko Munakata

Netsuke horses

I emailed Lowri at The British Museum to make another appointment to sketch netsuke at the study room. A speedy reply tells me that the study room will be free. That's great news. I send Lowri a list of the five netsuke I would like to sketch and an extra one incase any of these are in the gallery cabinet. This time with a specific theme.

5 Horses

Standing horse

Standing horse

Seated horse

Goat with Kid

Cat Washing Paw

I'm looking forward to another trip the British Museum. I can't get the beauty of the The Great Court out of my head and I'm fascinated to know who carved the architectural lettering on the stone drum wall above the staircase. I find a link which points me to Martin Cook's website. He comes from a family of carvers dating back to 1730 and has a wealth of experience hand carving lettering in Portland stone, sand stone, slate and wood.

“Martin uses his knowledge of historical letterforms and calligraphy to create a unique design. It is then hand carved into natural British stone or wood.”

— Martin Cook

I managed to retrieve the netsuke photos I took from my last visit to the V&A and have emailed the photographs to Julia Hutt from the Asia department. I hope this will make it easier for the netsuke to be found in their stores.

Resourses

Martin Cook

Netsuke at the Royal Festival Hall

The train is sighing and heaving and trees blur behind rain scratched windows. I'm drinking a hot take-away tea while reading a book 'Names for the Sea, Strangers in Iceland' by Sarah Moss. My fingers seem to take longer to thaw as I hold the book of ice. It was glorious sunshine yesterday. I'm heading back into the city of London as the clouds darken. The rain is persistent.

100 Miniature Masterpieces

The first and last stop is The Royal Festival Hall on the Southbank. It's too wet and too cold to keep trekking through puddles and be rain soaked without an umbrella or raincoat. I stay here to keep warm and dry. I was hoping to draw netsuke at the V&A today but instead I'm drawing from the book I bought yesterday at The British Museum. 'Netsuke 100 miniature masterpieces from Japan' by Noriko Tsuchiya. I flick through the book containing photographs of netsuke in human form, immortals, ghosts, masks, animals and manju. I am interested in the animals and pick out one of the oldest netsuke in the museum (about 1700). 'Elephant and man in the form of a seal'. The photograph of the netsuke is at least three times the size than an original netsuke making it so much easier to draw and kinder to the eyes. I don't have the option to turn the netsuke and view it from a different angle but I can take as long as I like as there is no time restriction here.

Drawn with Music

I feel relaxed drawing the netsuke while listening to music on my headphones. The Royal Festival Hall is buzzing with people working and chatting and the music doesn't shut it out, it just softens the edges. A one-to-one language course is in full flow at the table behind me. A couple on the far table are in deep conversation with paint pots, brushes and paper and lunch all piled up together. A man sits with his smart phone, a woman with her lap-top. Two woman with pads of paper and paper cups also in deep discussion. Downstairs people are piled in the cafe. The rain continues to fall as I move on the 'Reclining Goat' by Kaigyokusai Masatsugu. Then 'Horse' - unsigned, 'Hare with Loquats' signed by Yamaguchi Okatomo and lastly 'Sleeping Cat' - unsigned.

When I've finished I look back through the sketch book and compare drawings. These are much larger than the ones I drew at the British Museum. It will be fun to carve them and see how they print. I pack up my books step out into the rain and head for the tube.

Laura Boswell and Ian Philips at the R K Burt Gallery

With headphones back in my ears and Google maps switched on I take a forty minute walk in the glorious sunshine, down Museum Street into Drury Lane. I take an accidental detour off Drury Lane into Long Acre and pass a bike shop gleaming with folded bicycles in vivid colours behind the window. I've been thinking about hiring a bike while I'm here but when I approach the docking station I read the long paragraphs, phase out and wish they had a slot for coins. I find my way back on Drury Lane towards heavy traffic at The Strand and along the river toward Blackfriars bridge, cross over the bridge and down Southwark Street and arrive at 57 Union Street - R K Burt Gallery.

R K Burt Gallery

Inside the gallery I am greeted by Laura Boswell and and Ian Philips. This is a lovely surprise as I didn't expect them to be here. They are both busy carving and printing. A live demo in working progress while showing their exhibition. Their work is laid across a huge table and they are working on a print together. Ian is carving lino and Laura is printing a woodblock. They are taking it in turns to print a layer each to build up the print and will eventually make an edition of twenty. Laura works with dampened paper while Ian needs the paper to be dry so after Laura has printed her layer, Ian will wait until the paper is dry before printing the next layer. The editions in working progress are laid out around the floor of the gallery while Laura and Ian continue working. They each have a collection of framed prints on the wall. Woodblock and linocut prints of rural landscapes, birds, woodland, crashing waves, sand and sea, mountains, cliffs and more of this delight downstairs in the basement. I am in awe of their work. Both have a wealth of experience, creating compositions full of rich and subtle colours and texture, the wildness and freedom, the stillness and sensitivity of nature.

Drawing The Line

Philip has a book about his prints for sale and I buy a few of their cards with the book. My bag already feels like its filled with rocks and like an explorer I head out the door for the next destination. I thank Laura and Philip and as Intaglio Printmakers are just round the corner: I would be mad not to pay them a visit and add to the heavy load! I pick up some magnolia wood and try not to get swayed by anything else. Back out into the sunshine with coat and jumper wrapped round my waist, my bag pulling on the muscles in my back and neck, I head towards Southwark bridge and down the steps into Bankside. My mission to find a snack and cool down before heading out of the city.

Resources

Laura Boswell

Ian Philips