HOKUSAI KATSUHIKA, One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji n. 40, 1835

Splendid proof with good contrasts, attributable to the print run of Eirakuya Tōshirō (mid 19th century) from the original woods of the Egawa workshop. Printed on Japanese paper, in excellent condition, with original untrimmed margins beyond the marginal line.

Annotated Bibliography
H.D. Smith II, Hokusai: One Hundred Views of Mt. Fuji, New York: George Braziller, 1988
M. Forrer, Hokusai, London: Royal Academy of Arts, 1991
M. Forrer, Hokusai, New York: Rizzoli, 1988
M. Forrer, Hokusai: Prints and Drawings, Munich: Prestel, 1991
G.C. Calza, Hokusai: The Old Madman of Painting, Milan 1999-2000, London 2003
G.C. Calza, Hokusai: The One Hundred Views of Fuji, Milan: Editoriale Nuova, 1982
J. Hillier, The Art of Hokusai in Book Illustration, London: Sotheby Parke Bernet, 1980
J. Hillier, L. Smith, Japanese Prints: 300 Years of Albums and Books, London: British Museum Publications, 1980
R.S. Keyes, Ehon: The Artist and the Book in Japan, New York: George Braziller, 2006
T. Clark (ed.), Hokusai: Beyond the Great Wave, London: British Museum Press, 2017
M. Forrer, W.R. van Gulik, Hokusai and His School: Paintings, Drawings and Illustrated Books, Leiden: Society for Japanese Arts and Crafts, 1991
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/78803

Commentary
One of the great masterpieces of Japanese art.
On windy days, when the swells rise high and full, it can happen that a violent gust seizes the crest of a wave, detaching it from the dark mass and launching it into the sky, transforming it into a lace of foam. The crest, before falling back into the trough that awaits it, seems for a moment to stop, remaining still in the void. In that timeless moment, tiny bubbles float in the air, rising and diving again, and there they are transformed into a flock of chidori, small plovers born from the ocean and the wind.
The eye of the Japanese viewer is accustomed to looking from right to left, so the gaze follows the foam generated by the crashing waves, up to the flight of the plovers. Nothing is depicted that is not in motion, even the chidori that rise above the last crest tremble in the wind. A swirling ellipse, from the outstretched crest to the oncoming new wave, a hypnotic whirl that grabs the viewer, leaving them ultimately surprised: here, the only fixed point, is Fuji.
Hokusai painted this phenomenon multiple times throughout his life, a metaphor for his constant search. The board immediately recalls the famous Kanagawa oki namiura (The Wave off Kanagawa or The Great Wave) from the series Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji and other almost "protohistoric" engravings included in two series of Western landscapes (Kanagawa oki Honmoku no zu, View of Honmoku near Kanazawa circa 1803; and Oshiokuri hato tsusen no zu, Transport Boats in the Waves circa 1805). No other image, however, possesses the same suggestion, the philosophical-religious breath, the architectural structure, the vastness of pictorial conception.