Fuchū c. 1832 - 1833

Editor: This is "Fuchū" by Utagawa Hiroshige, made around 1832 or 1833. It's a woodblock print and feels surprisingly tranquil despite all the figures wading through the water. What stands out to you when you look at this piece? Curator: You know, what I love about Hiroshige is the everydayness he captures. This isn't some grand historical scene, but a bunch of people crossing a river! Imagine yourself there—the cool water, the hustle, maybe even a bit of a laugh as someone nearly drops their load. It's a genre scene, but think about the compositional strategy. Notice how that massive, brooding mountain looms in the background, providing this incredible sense of scale and grounding. It's almost as if he's saying, "Yeah, life's chaotic, but look how small we are compared to the enduring landscape." Does it make you wonder what that contrast meant to folks back then? Editor: It does! I was so focused on the figures; I didn't really consider how they relate to the landscape. It feels like a reminder of impermanence, maybe? Curator: Precisely! Ukiyo-e, "pictures of the floating world," often plays with that idea. They celebrate fleeting moments, transient beauty…like the cherry blossoms in bloom, or, indeed, a quick river crossing! There’s a definite poetic sadness too - this bustling scene becomes part of something far, far bigger, indifferent to individual struggles. Is it optimistic, do you think? Or is it more wistful? Editor: Hmmm…I’m leaning towards wistful now, seeing the mountain in relation to the river crossing. The scene looks picturesque and dreamlike. Thanks for this new view of ukiyo-e! Curator: My pleasure. Isn’t it marvelous how art can hold so many different conversations with us?