Hara--Fuji in the Morning c. 1832 - 1833

Curator: The artwork before us is a print, more precisely a woodblock print entitled "Hara--Fuji in the Morning," created by Utagawa Hiroshige around 1832-1833. It resides here at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. What's your initial take? Editor: Breezy, a bit chilly, I'd say. Look at how he's captured the light! And there’s this distinct stillness broken only by the travellers trudging through the field. Makes me think of very early mornings, you know, when the world feels brand new? Curator: That stillness you pick up on is really striking. This print is part of Hiroshige's "Fifty-three Stations of the Tokaido" series. It encapsulates a traveler’s experience along this vital route connecting Edo, now Tokyo, and Kyoto. Note how Mount Fuji, revered in Japanese culture, is framed at a distance here. Editor: Right! Fuji, the ever-present witness. You almost feel these figures are aware of its gaze as they go on. The color palette too—those subdued blues and earthy tones, all perfectly poised against that gentle sunrise. Feels deliberate. Curator: It's fascinating to observe how the symbolism of Mt. Fuji transforms over time, evolving from representing imperial power to more spiritual and even nationalistic meanings. In this print, the mountain acts as a serene backdrop, but also embodies a collective identity and shared journey for these travellers. Editor: Shared burdens, too. Check out those porters hefting those massive packages! I wonder where they are headed. Curator: Absolutely. These figures walking the Tokaido reflect themes that recur in ukiyo-e: transience, pilgrimage, daily life... even the aspirations and routines of ordinary people become powerful symbols of resilience. Editor: Makes you want to pack a bag and set off, doesn't it? Get some of that resilience yourself. Curator: Indeed. A scene steeped in both the mundane and the magnificent. Food for thought and fodder for the road, I reckon.