The inscription reads: “Tenpō shonen sangen-jitsu shi Kyūjo” (“On New Year’s day in the first year of the Tenpō era, an attempt at Nine Similes”). “Sangen-jitsu” refers to the first day of the year, so this means the New Year of Tenpō 1. However, since the era name was changed in December 1830 (Bunsei 13), there was no New Year in Tenpō 1; therefore, it is considered to refer to the first New Year during the Tenpō era, that is, the New Year of 1831 (Tenpō 2). “Kyūjo” refers to the phrase “Tenpō Kyūjo” found in the Book of Songs (Shijing): “Heaven protects you (the Son of Heaven) in nine ways.” These nine are: “mountains, hills, knolls, ridges, rivers, moon, sun, the southern mountains, and evergreen pines and cypresses.” As for what this means: the first five similes signify “they will increase without ceasing,” and the latter four signify “they will be handed down without ceasing.” In other words, using nature as an example, it expresses flourishing and continuity.

However, in this work, the most conspicuous of the nine—the sun and moon—are absent. Only pine and cypress can be clearly recognized, and there is a river, and the mountains seem to be differentiated, but overall, it is hardly distinguishable from an ordinary landscape painting. Without the inscription “Kyūjo,” one might not realize that this is a Tenpō Kyūjo-zu. Mokubei did not attempt to depict all nine similes literally.

There is a known fan painting bearing the inscription: “Tenpō shonen sangatsu shi Kyūjo-zu Ryūbei” (“In the early Tenpō era, third month, an attempt at Nine Similes, Ryūbei”). In that work, the sun and moon are depicted on either side of the central mountains, making it clear that it is a Tenpō Kyūjo-zu. However, the other seven similes, as in the present work, are not necessarily explicit. The only common motif is the pine and cypress at the left edge of the composition. More importantly, the expression—where angular ink lines coexist with shaded washes—resembles that of the fan painting. In this work, that expression is amplified to the point of being almost unrestrained. It is not so much the forms that are unrestrained, but rather the ink lines and washes themselves: instead of clearly defining shapes, the freely moving lines and tonal variations take center stage, creating an atmosphere that dominates the painting. The phrase “qi yun sheng dong” (spirit resonance and life movement) is truly apt.

Paintings of Tenpō Kyūjo-zu were produced in great numbers from the Edo period through the Meiji period. Even after the Meiji era began, many Nanga painters continued to depict them. However, most of their Tenpō Kyūjo-zu works remained at the level of mere “similes,” lacking spirit resonance, and ended up as auspicious pictures for the alcove (tokonoma). After the war, as the tokonoma disappeared from Japanese homes, these Tenpō Kyūjo-zu paintings also lost their place. Unfortunately, not only Tenpō Kyūjo-zu but Nanga in general is not as highly valued today as it once was. Yet, seen differently, the prewar evaluation was simply too high, and now we have entered an age of selection. This work has long been highly regarded, and its lively expression remains fresh; it will surely continue to receive high acclaim in the future.

Aoki Mokubei (literati painter, potter; 1767–1833)
Literati painter and potter of the late Edo period. Born in Kyoto, Aoki Mokubei studied ceramic techniques under Okuda Eisen and established a kiln in Awata, Kyoto. Drawing on a wide range of styles—including blue-and-white porcelain, celadon, overglaze enamel, and Nanban wares—he developed a distinctive approach with a particular focus on utensils for the sencha tea practice.