The inscription on the box, written by Kobayashi Kokei, reads hiki in hiragana, which refers to the common toad. This species is widely recognisable due to its broad habitat range, from lowlands to mountainous regions, inhabiting forests, grasslands, farmlands, parks, and even residential gardens. Except during its breeding season, the toad lives away from water and in this painting, it is depicted nestled at the base of a mountain azalea. The pristine whiteness of the azalea contrasts strikingly with the enigmatic presence of the poisonous toad, each element heightening the other’s character. In Hayami Gyoshū’s catalogs, this piece is listed as Mountain Azalea and Toad (June, 1925).

When Yoshida Kōzō, who became Gyoshū’s disciple at the age of nineteen, had been practicing daily sketches for about six months, he once struggled to reproduce the desired hues. To address this, he compared the color of an actual camellia blossom with a color chart and noted the closest reference number in his sketchbook. Observing this, Gyoshū asked, “What do these numbers signify?” Upon Yoshida’s explanation, Gyoshū, half in disbelief, pointed to the numbered flower and inquired, “Was this painted in the morning or the afternoon?” “Around nine in the morning,” Yoshida replied. “And was the sky cloudy?” “No, it was clear.” Gyoshū then remarked, “If clouds had passed, that number would have changed, wouldn’t it?” “I believe so.” “Then tell me seriously—what color would this flower be at midnight, with no light at all?” “I don’t know.” Gyoshū concluded, “Color manifests only under light; in truth, it may be colorless. So paint it in the color you love.”

This anecdote illustrates Gyoshū’s philosophy: when painting camellias, one must first capture their structure with absolute clarity through exhaustive sketching, committing every detail to memory. Then, when working on the final piece, the paper or silk becomes a universe, and the artist assumes the role of creator, painting freely and boldly. Once internalized, unnecessary elements vanish, while beauty is naturally accentuated, transforming the flower into an idealized image that transcends reality. This principle—the essence of Gyoshū’s art—also permeates the present work, where the mountain azalea and the toad evoke the hidden mysteries of nature.

Yoshida’s recollections further reveal that his grandfather, Yoshida Yaichirō, had acquired extensive land in Meguro and transformed it into a grand garden. The residence within served as a studio for artists such as Imamura Shikō and Kobayashi Kokei. After marrying Yaichirō’s fourth daughter, Iyo, in March 1921, Gyoshū himself lived in a newly built house within this garden. Maintained daily by professional gardeners, the grounds were abundant with seasonal blossoms, and the pond attracted a variety of birds. According to Yoshida Kōzō, nearly all the flowers, trees, animals, and birds appearing in Gyoshū’s paintings were observed in this Meguro garden. It is highly plausible that this work, too, draws inspiration from that storied setting.

Hayami Gyoshū (nihonga painter; 1894–1935)
Nihonga painter from Tokyo. Gyoshū studied at Matsumoto Fūko’s private painting school Anagadō Gajuku, and was selected for the Tatsumi-gakai and Ugō-kai art associations. Besides being active in a number of art groups, such as Kōji-kai and Sekiyō-kai, he also became an associate member of the Inten exhibition. Gyoshū was skilled at infusing modernity into the decorative nihonga genre. He was awarded honorary medals by the governments of Italy and Germany.