HOKUSAI KATSUSHIKA, One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji no. 87, 1836-1847

Stunning 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 thin vertical lines of the rain, the round hats of the travelers, and the presence of Mount Fuji, made visible only through the interruptions of those same lines, transform this plate into a small masterpiece of abstraction and visual refinement. Murasame, which literally means “rain in clusters,” in the title alludes to a sudden and violent downpour, typical of summer thunderstorms, which Hokusai represents effectively through a dense weave of lines.
The silhouette of Fuji is not defined by a sharp outline, but emerges through optical illusion: the mountain appears because the rain “interrupts” along its profile, outlined solely by the use of the gray block. This device accentuates the abstract character of the composition and creates a deliberately implausible effect, which nevertheless makes the mountain perceivable through the veil of water. The travelers, reduced to essential forms, advance bent under the intensity of the storm, their circular hats and curved postures contributing to the visual rhythm of the scene.
On the umbrella to the right appears the inscription “san ben”, “third volume,” a detail that recalls other similar indications present in other plates of the series. This element can be read as an ironic allusion (perhaps one of the previously manufactured umbrellas is being tested here under real rain), but more likely constitutes a clue related to the circumstances, still partly enigmatic, of the publication of the third volume. In any case, Hokusai once again integrates editorial information and poetic invention within an image of extraordinary formal synthesis.