HOKUSAI KATSUSHIKA, One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji no. 71, 1836-1847

Beautiful 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
The Suidōbashi, the “aqueduct bridge,” crosses the Kanda River in Edo just west of the wooden aqueduct that channels drinking water from the Kandagawa canal to the city center. In the view, however, the aqueduct is not visible: only the small bridge for pedestrian traffic appears, outlined in the distance and partially hidden at the foot of Fuji. This framing corresponds to the perspective offered by the Ochanomizu district, famous in ukiyo-e for its views of Mount Fuji framed by the river's course. The stretch of the artificial Kanda canal, at this deep and scenic point, was indeed one of the most frequented subjects by landscape painters. Hokusai, however, as often happens, does not pursue strict topographical fidelity: in his interpretation, the river, normally calm, becomes a swift current and even flows in the opposite direction to reality. The result is a scene where geographical verisimilitude gives way to compositional strength, with Fuji dominating the horizon while the bridge fits in as a discreet human mark in the river landscape.