View of Fukagawa, Edo 1754 - 1774

Editor: Right, so here we have "View of Fukagawa, Edo," a woodblock print made by Suzuki Harunobu sometime between 1754 and 1774. It’s currently at the Met. I’m really drawn to the calmness of this piece – the way the water seems to just stretch on. How do you interpret this work? Curator: Calm, yes, but also meticulously observed, wouldn’t you say? For me, this isn't just a view; it’s a little window into a whole world. Ukiyo-e, as this genre is called, often gave a peek into the pleasure districts and celebrity culture, but Harunobu, bless him, seems to be looking at the everyday rhythm of Edo—now Tokyo. The boats bobbing about... almost dreamlike, eh? I wonder what stories they carry. Do you get a sense of distance too? Editor: I do! It’s subtle. The hazy mountains kind of fade into the sky. How much of this do you think is realistic versus idealized, though? Curator: Ah, the eternal question! I think it is like any landscape tradition a delicate balance. Harunobu captures a real place, for sure; we can see Fukagawa’s waterways, but the way he simplifies, almost abstracts forms? That's the artist showing us how to feel the scene, not just see it. What grabs *you* most about it? Editor: The figures. They’re so small, almost like afterthoughts, but they add a sense of scale and life. It's a reminder of how massive this city actually was, is! Curator: Precisely. You see the heart of it all, you do. It's funny how a simple landscape can make you contemplate life’s bigger currents. Thank you for helping me observe this artwork with a new set of eyes, and perspective! Editor: Thank you! I see so much more in this piece than I initially thought. The personal connection Harunobu seemed to have to the ordinary really comes through.