The Case of the Sharaku Murders by Katsuhiko Takahashi Read Free Book Online Page B

of this catalogue.
    There were seventy-four plates in the book, fifty-two of them by one artist in particular. Apparently, Sato had been a fan of his work. Indeed, from the moment Ryohei had first set eyes on these particular plates while at the book fair, he had recognized the artist was someone of no mean ability. Now that he was able to study them at his leisure his opinion remained unchanged. But the name of the artist meant nothing to him. Apart from ukiyo-e Ryohei did not know a great deal about Japanese painting, but he did have a basic knowledge of the other major artistic movements. Moreover, since he was from Iwate Prefecture the Akita School had always interested him—Iwate and Akita being right next door to one another—and he was familiar with the names of many of its major artists.
    There’s more to this than meets the eye , thought Ryohei, ignoring for the moment his own lack of knowledge on the subject.
    How remarkable that so formidable a talent should have been completely forgotten. But in one sense, to be remembered simply meant that one’s work was still seen by people. An artist might create any number of masterpieces but if they were never put before the public, how would his achievement ever be recognized? No doubt there was any number of great artists from remote parts of Japan who languished in obscurity.
    Perhaps I’m on to something…
    It was the lifelong dream of every art historian to discover an unknown artist and bring him to the attention of the world.
    Ryohei felt an unexpected rush of adrenaline. It was still too early to say anything for sure, but it would be worth his while to do a bit of research. If the artist in question really was a complete unknown, Ryohei held the key to establishing his reputation.
    He continued flipping through the book, looking for the page that gave the artist’s biography. He found it next to the last plate in the catalogue. It read:
Chikamatsu Shoei—Born in 1762 into a samurai family in Kakunodate, Akita fief. Having demonstrated an interest in painting from an early age, he took up studies with Odano Naotake in 1780. In the early 1780s he went to Edo [now Tokyo] in the service of Lord Satake Yoshiatsu of Akita. When Yoshiatsu died in 1785 Shoei left his lord’s house and took up with Shiba Kokan. After his return to Akita in the 1790s he settled in Odate, later moving to Honjo. He died in the 1820s.
    Ryohei was somewhat taken aback by the terseness of the biography. It was not even a hundred words. But at least it contained some essential information. It gave Ryohei a place to begin his investigations. While it was not surprising that Odano Naotake’s name should be mentioned in connection with Chikamatsu, Ryohei was intrigued by the reference to Shiba Kokan. The foremost Western-style painter of his day, Kokan’s name was familiar to many people today because of his copperplate engravings. But surprisingly few knew that earlier in his career Kokan had been an ukiyo-e artist. The thought that Chikamatsu might be connected, however tenuously, to Ryohei’s own field of expertise made him seem less remote a figure.
    Ryohei’s curiosity was piqued. He turned his attention back to the paintings, which before, he had only glanced at casually. He began pouring over them one by one, scouring them for additional clues to the artist’s background and looking for any inscriptions in the corners.
    Before long one of the paintings caught his eye—a picture of a lion that seemed to jump out at him from the canvas of a hanging scroll. It was a powerful work of art.
    His gaze became riveted to the painting, but not because of the power of the image. He had noticed an inscription in one corner of the painting. He began reading. When he got to the end, he could hardly believe his eyes. It was signed, Chikamatsu Shoei, formerly known as Toshusai Sharaku .
    Ryohei read the words over and over again. There was no mistake.