Totsuka, from the series "Mount Fuji in the Four Seasons (Shiki no Fuji)" c. 1785

Editor: Here we have Torii Kiyonaga's woodblock print, "Totsuka, from the series 'Mount Fuji in the Four Seasons,'" created around 1785. I’m struck by the contrast between the figures in the foreground and the ghostly presence of Mount Fuji in the distance. What's your read on this piece? Curator: It's less about "reading" and more about feeling, isn't it? I get this sense of fleeting moments, like catching a glimpse of everyday life through a slightly dreamy lens. The traveler adjusting their sandal, the elegant woman lost in thought...it's about their journey as much as it is about Fuji’s majestic silhouette. Think about the delicate balance the artist achieves between the mundane and the monumental. Does the journey become the destination, maybe? Editor: The mundane and the monumental...that's a beautiful way to put it! I guess I was expecting Fuji to be more…dominant. Curator: But isn't that the joy of discovery? Kiyonaga’s not shoving Fuji down our throats. He's whispering secrets about Japanese identity and the ephemeral beauty that threads through daily existence. What do *you* think it might suggest that Fuji isn't so obvious, practically fading into the background? Editor: Hmm...maybe it's about finding the sacred in the ordinary. Like, even with Fuji right there, life goes on, people go on journeys, have sore feet and wear fantastic hats. The image suggests that something extraordinary underlies the experience of normal existence. Curator: Exactly. And perhaps that even grand Fuji is part of the "ordinary," something familiar in the cultural landscape. Which makes me wonder… what does *ordinary* truly mean anyway? I love how a seemingly simple print can kick off these little thought spirals. Editor: Me too! I’ll definitely look at Ukiyo-e prints with fresh eyes now. Thanks!