New Painting
about 6 years ago
– Mon, Feb 12, 2018 at 05:13:40 PM
Greetings yokai fans!
It's been a while since the last update, but I wanted to keep everyone in the loop of what's been going on.
I'm currently hard at work on the layout of the book, formatting the yokai to fit them all into a page, and finalizing the order of the yokai in the book.
I'm also working on the landscape paintings for the five chapters of the book. I'm ready to share one with you: "In the Water," which will cover the aquatic yokai section of the book.
This illustration is roughly based on an island near where I live, in Fukui prefecture. The island itself is rumored to be haunted. The area around the island is covered in dramatic cliffs, and the harsh beauty of the place has caused it to become a popular suicide spot. When people throw themselves from the cliffs, the bodies wash up on this island. If you walk the streets near there at night, you will see ghosts who beckon you towards the cliffs...
The island has a shrine on it, which is accessible only by a beautiful red bridge. The island itself is uninhabited, but has an extremely heavy atmosphere to it. I've had nightmares of the place... According to local legend, if you traverse the island counter-clockwise, you will be cursed. Of course, as with all local legends, there are people who tell you it's the exact opposite; going clockwise will get you cursed. All I know is it's a creepy place, and you don't want to be there after sundown.
I'm also pleased to announce that Zack Davisson, author of Yurei and Kaibyo, as well as translator of various Mizuki Shigeru works, will be my editor for The Book of the Hakutaku. While his talent alone speaks for itself, I'm also really happy to have someone so familiar with yokai and Japanese folklore to work with on making sure the text is as good as it can possibly be.
If you're feeling impatient for more yokai, remember that I'm still running my Patreon project, and you can see all of my new yokai posts up on yokai.com! These are yokai that won't make it into The Book of the Hakutaku, but eventually they'll become part of a 4th book!
More soon.
- Matt
Hososhi
over 6 years ago
– Sun, Jan 21, 2018 at 11:13:06 PM
Greetings yokai fans!
Today's post marks a special occasion: this is yokai #100! That means that all of the yokai for the book are finished, and now the job will transform to layout, editing, and the less exciting parts. I'll also be making five chapter-header landscape paintings like the ones you see in my first two books.
I say less exciting, but for me it's still exciting. It's a chance for me to turn the book into something more than just a pile of yokai. While my books are encyclopedias, and are books about folklore, to me they are primary about the artwork. Art is what I majored in in college. Art is what attracted me most to Japanese culture. And art is what got me hooked on yokai. As cool as the stories and the history and folklore behind them are, for me yokai will always be primarily about the art.
So in that same sense, I take an artistic approach to my books which goes beyond what may be immediately obvious. I'm sure you've noticed that the yokai are not arranged alphabetically in my books (although there is an alphabetical index). Yokai are so diverse that it is impossible to really group them in any definitive sort of way. There is no taxonomic structure to folklore. So I try to place yokai together in groupings that I find interesting; sometimes it is by their behavior, sometimes it is by their appearance, sometimes it is by their origin... There's not a single method to my arrangement other than I want the transition from page to page to be interesting and not feel like randomly paging through a dictionary. So I try to weave a meta story into my books based on the arrangement of the pages.
You may have noticed that the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons actually takes a journey through the seasons in the artwork. It starts in summer, with kappa swimming, and kirin prancing through the lush fields, then transitions to winter, moving into spring with the lady yokai in their kimono under the cherry blossoms, and then back to summer, ending with summer festivals, a ghost story telling party, and of course the night parade itself.
The Hour of Meeting Evil Spirits takes a similar journey, although instead of covering a whole year it covers one night, starting with sunset and a few sunny, good natured yokai, then moving into darkness where the truly evil yokai reign. It culminates at "the shrine visit at the hour of the ox," aka darkest dark, and then ends with the sunrise dawn which dispels the evil spirits.
In the same way, The Book of the Hakutaku will take a journey via the artwork, so it is not just a static collection of images.
You also may have noticed the odd chapter descriptions I use to separate yokai. Mostly I choose geographic features (In the Mountains, In the Sea, etc.) and a few unique locations (At a Festival, The Sorcerer's Parlor). Again, it's super hard to really categorize yokai, so I try to at least find some small commonalities when grouping them together; and doing it by where you might find them is not so bad a choice. The Book of the Hakutaku will also feature similarly grouped yokai, although those are by no means the only places you'll find some of those yokai!
Toriyama Sekien, who I consider the granddaddy of yokai-ologists, categorized his yokai into vague chapters with mystical sounding names like Yin, Yang, Wind, Cloud, Mist, Rain, Light... These don't necessarily have anything to do with the yokai, but they do build an atmosphere that serves as a backdrop to his books. My goal with chapter layout is to do the same thing. I don't want to over-define yokai or shoehorn them into specific regions or groupings, because yokai's power lies in their mystery and their unknowable-ness. So my chapters and my groupings are intentionally vague, with the intention of keeping the yokai as pure as possible, while providing a structure for the imagination to take you through the book as a whole.
That may sound like a whole lot of art mumbo-jumbo, so I won't be offended if you think it's silly! But for me, these books are my babies, and I do like to nerd out a bit when talking about why I made certain choices. These are usually the kind of things I only talk about when asked at conventions or in emails, but as Kickstarter backers I figured you guys might be interested in this sort of deep dive into the work and the thought processes behind it.
Anyway, on to tonight's yokai:
Hōsōshi
方相氏
ほうそうし
TRANSLATION: minister of the four directions; one who sees in all directions
APPEARANCE: In ancient times, a hōsōshi was an official government minister and a priest in the imperial court. He wears special robes (the particular outfit varies depending on which shrine the ritual is being performed at), and carries a spear in his right hand and a shield in his left hand. The name also refers to a demon god which this priest would dress up as during yearly purification rituals. This god appears as a four-eyed oni who can see in all directions, and punishes all evil that it sees.
BEHAVIOR: During the early Heian Period, the hōsōshi’s duties included leading coffins during state funeral processions, officiating at burial ceremonies, and driving corpse-stealing yōkai away from burial mounds. By donning the mask and costume, the hōsōshi (priest) became the hōsōshi (god) and was able to scare away evil spirits. The hōsōshi’s most famous duty was a purification ceremony called tsuina.
Tsuina was performed annually on Ōmisoka—the last day of the year—at shrines and government buildings (such as the imperial palace). In this ritual, the hōsōshi and his servant would run around the shrine courtyard (covering “the four directions”), chanting and warding the area against oni and other evil spirits. Meanwhile, a number of attending officials would shoot arrows around the hōsōshi from the shrine or palace buildings, symbolically defending the area against evil spirits. Other observers would play small hand drums with ritualistic cleansing significance.
ORIGIN: Hōsō was a concept related to divination, the four directions, and the magical barriers between the human world and the spirit world. It dealt with creating and maintaining these boundaries and barriers. It including things like planting trees or placing stones in the four corners of an area, or utilizing existing features like rivers and roads, which serve as natural boundaries. By maintaining these natural boundaries, the spiritual boundaries between the worlds could also be maintained, with the ultimate goal of keeping the imperial family and other government officials safe from supernatural harm.
The concept originated in ancient Chinese folk religion, where it is called fangxiang. The fangxiangshi wore a four eyed mask and a bear skin, and acted as a sort of exorcist. Chinese folk religion eventually became mixed with Buddhism and Taoism, and made its way to Japan. The Japanese hōsōshi’s rituals and costume were derived from this folk belief.
Over time, the Japanese version evolved further away from its Chinese roots. The hōsōshi came to be seen not as a god which keeps oni away, but as an oni itself. Rather than exorcising evil spirits, the hōsōshi became an evil spirit, and it was the imperial officials who chased away and exorcised the hōsōshi (thus symbolically chasing all evil spirits away). This may have been due to changing perceptions during the Heian period about the concept of ritual purity. The hōsōshi, who was associated with funerals and dead bodies, came to be viewed as unclean. It would be inappropriate for such a creature to be on the same “side” as the imperial household, so it became the target of the ritual instead of the officiator.
While the governmental position of hōsōshi no longer exists today, some shrines still perform annual tsuina rituals involving the hōsōshi. The celebration of Setsubun, in which beans are thrown at people wearing oni masks, is also derived from this ancient ritual.
Byobu nozoki
over 6 years ago
– Fri, Jan 12, 2018 at 12:26:08 AM
Greetings yokai fans!
We get ever closer to the final yokai in the book... Almost there!
Today I present to you everybody's favorite pervert yokai, the byobu nozoki! Well ok, maybe not everyone's favorite... There are so many perverted yokai to choose from! But he's a fun one nonetheless!
Careful eyes might recognize the motif on the byobu as Kawanabe Kyosai's hyakki yagyo byobu. I was lucky enough to see this byobo last summer at a special Kawanabe Kyosai exhibit. It was gorgeous, and I wanted to include it as a small homage to one of the greatest yokai painters. I doubt too many people would actually have the courage to put up a yokai byobu in their house, but I would certainly put one up if I ever had the chance!
屛風闚
びょうぶのぞき
TRANSLATION: folding screen peeper
HABITAT: wealthy homes
APPEARANCE: Byōbu nozoki is a depraved spirit which emerges from the decorative folding screens known as byōbu. It is very tall, stretching well over two meters (tall enough to peer over any sized folding screen). It’s body is long and lithe, and it wears white robes resembling those of a ghost. It has long black hair and blackened teeth. Despite the resemblance, byōbu nozoki it is not a yūrei, but is actually the tsukumogami of a folding screen.
INTERACTIONS: As its name suggests, a byōbu nozoki’s chief activity is leering over folding screens at the people on the other side—particularly if the people are engaged in romantic activities.
ORIGIN: Byōbu nozoki was invented by Toriyama Sekien for his book Konjaku hyakki shūi. According to him, this spirit manifests from a very old folding screen which has witnessed many years of sexual activity.
Sekien invented a fake history connecting it with Chinese history. Sekien describes the byōbu nozoki as tall enough to peer over a folding screen seven shaku (a unit of length approximately 30 cm) high. This recalls a story about the Chinese emperor Qin Shi Huang, in which he leaped over a 7 shaku tall byobu to escape an assassination attempt. This legend which would have been well known to his readers during the Edo period. With this reference, Sekien both invents a funny narrative and finds a way to connect this amusing yōkai with history, legitimizing it as more than something he just made up.
Basho no sei
over 6 years ago
– Mon, Jan 08, 2018 at 11:37:21 PM
Greetings yokai fans! And happy new year! I hope you all had an enjoyable vacation! Even though I had a good vacation, I am glad to be back to working on yokai, and to bring you the next illustration from The Book of the Hakutaku!
Today's yokai comes from all the way down in Okinawa, where it is nice and warm and sunny. I hope that will take your mind off of the intense cold that is covering most of North America! If you're in a warmer place, then maybe the story of the basho no sei below will help cool you down. :)
芭蕉精
ばしょうのせい
TRANSLATION: Japanese banana spirit
HABITAT: the Ryūkyū archipelago
DIET: sunlight and soil
APPEARANCE: Bashō no sei are the spirits of Japanase banana trees (Musa basjoo). They are native to the islands of Okinawa, but are common in ornamental gardens across Asia. They usually appear as a human face amongst the broad, flat banana leaves.
INTERACTIONS: Bashō no sei are not particularly hostile or threatening towards people. They generally limit themselves to merely scaring humans by suddenly appearing next to them. For example, in one story a bashō no sei takes the form of a young woman, appears next to a meditating monk and asks him, “Can even inanimate plants attain buddhahood?”
They are not completely without danger, however—some local legends tell of bashō no sei assaulting and even impregnating humans. Women were warned not to walk near banana trees past 6 pm. If they did, they would run into a yōkai among the broad leaves—sometimes a monster, other times a handsome young man. Shortly after, the woman would become pregnant. When the baby was born 9 months later, it would have tusks or fangs like a demon. What’s more, the following year and again every year after that, the woman would give birth to another demon. Whenever a demon child was born, it would have to be killed by feeding it a poisonous drink made of powdered kumazasa (a type of bamboo grass); this is supposedly the reason why kumazasa is commonly found growing near houses in Okinawa.
ORIGIN: Stories about banana tree spirits are numerous across Japanese, Chinese, and Ryūkyūan folklore. The Edo period herbalist Satō Chūryō recorded his observations about these spirits in an essay. According to him, Ryūkyū’s banana orchards were so large that they contained rows of trees many miles long. If you walked past them at night, you were guaranteed to experience something strange. He observed that the spirits that come out of the banana trees did not cause any direct harm to people other than spooking them, but nevertheless could be avoided if you carried a sword. Chūryō’s theory was that banana trees weren’t necessarily unique in having spirits, but that because their leaves are so large and they were planted in such large numbers, it is particularly easy for humans to see these trees’ spirits. He believed that was the reason for the large number of superstitions about banana trees compared with other plants.
LEGENDS: A story from Nagano tells of a priest who was sitting outside and reciting suttras when a beautiful young woman appeared and attempted to seduce him. The priest grew angry. He stabbed the woman with his sword and she ran away. The next morning, the priest found a bloody trail left by the woman he had stabbed. The trail lead to the temple’s gardens, where a bashō tree was lying on the ground, cut in two. The priest then realized that the woman was actually the spirit of the tree.
