Oniwaka and Carp; Taira no Koremochi and the Demon 1868

Editor: Alright, next up we have "Oniwaka and Carp; Taira no Koremochi and the Demon," a vibrant woodblock print from 1868 by Tsukioka Yoshitoshi. The scene is split in two—on one side, a figure wrestling with a massive, almost comical carp; on the other, a more serene but unsettling encounter under autumnal foliage. I'm immediately struck by the contrast and wondering... what's going on here? What stories are these images telling, side by side? Curator: Ah, Yoshitoshi! A master of *ukiyo-e,* diving deep into history and folklore. This diptych… or should I say, this visual conversation… whispers tales of courage and transformation. The carp, traditionally symbolizing perseverance, perhaps even rebirth, wrestles with young Oniwaka. It's like watching youthful vigor challenged by… well, destiny! On the right, we find Taira no Koremochi, a renowned samurai, seemingly in slumber or… enchantment? He is about to face a demon woman, who can also be seen as this mountain goddess of Autumn who protects a passage between two dimensions, or more simply seen as being both very good and very bad. A mirror to the carp’s symbolism. Are they opposites, these narratives, or reflections? Editor: I see what you mean about the parallels! The carp representing strength, the demon also embodying a kind of power, though maybe a more sinister one. The way they're positioned on either side does create this feeling of opposing forces, almost a visual ying and yang, but could Yoshitoshi also be telling us something about the duality of strength? Curator: Precisely! Think of it as Yoshitoshi's sly wink—he’s not just depicting heroic tales, he’s digging at their roots. Strength isn't always loud or obvious, it can be subtle, deceptive, or even… fishy? And remember, these stories were enormously popular! Filled with a touch of the supernatural, adventure, beautiful ladies and lots of gore to keep you interested! In this work, Yoshitoshi, he invites us to peel back the layers and ask: What truly defines a hero? What battles lie within? Editor: That’s a perspective shift, thinking of strength as something less straightforward. Now I see the prints less as action shots, and more as contemplations of character. Thank you for showing that point. Curator: You’re welcome. I must admit I was once in your place. I encourage you to go forward and make a point. Be curious, and question!