Most readers of Daruma are aware that the Japanese have a penchant for taking wrapping to extremes. Forget about a cheap
baguette leaving a bakery's premises unadorned — such exposure might rock society. Even a several-meter-long plastic
laundry pole gets methodically bundled up just to cross the street!
To some foreigners this custom represents a never-ending source of enchantment — and coffee table books — and to others a grave threat
to the world’s trees. But the tradition is scarcely waning; today, kitchen refuse still gets handed over to the trash man more
creatively wrapped than a Christmas parcel from Tiffany's.
On the subject of presents, Japanese need to bear gifts for all manner of occasions throughout the year, and when a special impression is
sought, concern for an appropriate wrapper increases exponentially.
This requirement for proper presentation is not new, of course. It was just as critical, if not more so, among the Osaka merchant class in
the Edo period, and thus it was that the need arose for special ukiyo-e like the one illustrated here.
A single sheet actor print by the well-known Osaka artist Gigado Ashiyuki (active 1814-33), this ukiyo-e was almost certainly
designed to be folded into thirds. In that form it could serve as a wrapper suitable for exchanges of money or letters, or fan
paraphernalia, between fellow kabuki-enamored townsmen.
The top and bottom portions depict Arashi Kitsusaburo II, a very popular actor, active in Osaka (with a couple of name changes) from
1822-37. The upside down middle section features Nakamura Utaemon III (1778-1838), an even more important figure who all but ruled the
Osaka kabuki stage on and off for half a century.
In all likelihood the proper manner of folding and re-opening the envelope (shades of origami!) resulted in the recipient seeing
heavily-lidded Kitsusaburo twice (first the top image, then folded behind it the bottom one), followed by a glimpse of perennial superstar
Utaemon when the envelope was turned over.
Why and when?
The significance of this particular sequence is unclear. It might reflect the ascendancy of Kitsusaburô over a (temporarily) ailing
Utaemon, but it is also possible that there is no deep meaning. In fact, one collector friend argues the print was not meant to become an
envelope at all: the three images were supposed to be cut up and inserted as a small stack in a separate woodblock-printed envelope, which
is how he found his set.
Whatever the case, it is clear from the wear on the key block that novelty prints like this enjoyed great popularity, at least at a
certain moment in time.
Based on the costumes of the actors and the props they hold, we are able to date with some certainty these "wrapper" prints.
Nearly identical imagery can be found on conventional, less utilitarian actor prints (by the same artists, as it turns out) and these
latter prints have invariably been tied by kabuki scholars to specific performances. (The standard method of dating a print is to identify
the actor and role, and then find a plausible matching performance among the listings in the Kabuki nenpyô —
a kind of long-running theatre diary — or on extant playbills, two invaluable resources that between them cover most major stage