Investigations

When Art Becomes a Crime: Hasui's Last Print

Kawase Hasui is the true giant of Shin Hanga. We all know his prints. From 1918, when he first collaborated with the great publisher Watanabe Shozaburo, until his death in 1957, Hasui depicted the scenery and customs of Japan, meticulously depicting with his brush the nation’s mountains, cities, rivers, lakes and adjoining seas – and the lives of people who lived among them. He created more than 600 print designs in his lifetime. He was called the "Poet of Travel" and "Showa Hiroshige" – a comparison to that previous Ukiyo-e landscape master, Utagawa Hiroshige, even though Hasui’s designs were quite different, featuring modern Western touches like shadows and water reflections. He was highly regarded in Europe and America although his oeuvre was proudly – even defiantly -- Japanese.

Hasui’s "Konjiki Hall at Hiraizumi" is his final work, a masterpiece completed on his deathbed. From Hasui’s diary, we have a remarkably detailed history of how this work came to be, a relatively rare thing in Shin Hanga and Ukiyo-e. But this level of detail also allows me to use this print as an example of a disappointing development in Shin Hanga collecting: the increasing presence of Fake Hasui prints. It’s a unfortunate reality, one with which every would-be collector should become familiar.

According to the diary, work on "Konjiki Hall at Hiraizumi Hall” began on May 3, 1957. At that time, Hasui was already suffering from stomach cancer -- his physical strength was rapidly deteriorating. Perhaps foreseeing that this would be his final design, he devoted particular attention to its development; apparently, he sought to complete his career - -and his life -- with a perfect work.

Though in pain, Hasui showed extraordinary perseverance and obsessive attention to detail. First, he created line drawings, constantly revising the details, altering the original composition several times; in all he created eight line-drawings and two or three colored sketches. A month passed between the conception of the work and the day he submitted the final design to Watanabe for production.

The publisher and the artist had a deep relationship beyond simply being partners: for 40 years, they were like family. This gives the design a rich layer of special meaning: it was a physical manifestation of their decades-long relationship. Shortly after work began to produce the print, Hasui’s condition deteriorated further; he suffered severe abdominal pain and insomnia, which severely curtailed his creative abilities. The printing process was not finished until after Hasui’s death in November: the great artist was never able to see the final product with his own eyes.

Hasui’s passing was not only a huge loss to the art world and Watanabe but was, of course, also a heavy blow to his family. But the close relationship with the publisher continued. Watanabe covered the cost for Hasui’s grand funeral and commemorative ceremonies, and he saw to it that Hasui's widow and family were taken care of, paying their living expenses while continuing to print Hasui’s past masterpieces.

One hundred days after Hasui’s death, Watanabe distributed "Konjiki Hall at Hiraizumi" to Hasui’s family, friends, partners and academic friends – a fitting memorial to the life of this great artist. Fewer than 100 copies of this posthumous work were initially printed and presented at the memorial service, as such, the number of impressions circulating on the market is very small.

In 1979, the Mainichi Shimbun newspaper reprinted a second edition, with the intention of printing 350 copies; however, according to the Watanabe family, sales were not as strong as expected, and only about 100-250 impressions may have been made.

After 1989, Watanabe Print Shop began to sell a third edition of "Hiraizumi Golden Hall." This is known as the "Heisei Edition" because of the distinct seal in the lower right margin that contains the characters for "Watanabe"(わたなべ.) which clearly sets it apart from earlier editions. (The "Heisei" seal, of course, corresponds to the era of the Heisei Emperor – from 1989 to 2019).

There are very few 1957 memorial editions in circulation, and the number of 1979 second editions printed by the Mainichi Shimbun is not large. The market price for prints from these two has remained high. At Christie's in New York City in the autumn of 2021, one of the 1957 memorial first editions sold for a staggering $75,000 (including commission).

With these surprisingly high prices realized on the public auction market, it is easy to see why some Heisei edition prints are being altered in a deceptive attempt appear to be from the original 1957 edition, which had only 100 impressions. This is why this design is a prime target for fraud, and a good example for us to study. Few prints have such well-documented histories, nor do they have three such well-defined editions that look similar – if not identical -- to the non-expert eye. Basically, all a scammer has to do is remove the seals from the later editions, like the Heisei seal in the lower margin – which can be sanded or scraped off – and then apply fake seals mimicking the look of the older ones. Since both the key block and color blocks are the same, only the highly critical eye could notice the difference. Most trusting collectors would have a hard time discerning the alterations and fraudulent seals.

Fake or doctored prints are a big problem in the world of Japanese woodblock prints. Altering reproductions so they look and feel like first editions is not uncommon. And the fact that there is limited information out there makes it easier to deceive novices and even, sometimes, experts.

And it has become more commonplace as Ukiyo-e and Shin Hanga prints have increased in value. I myself have suffered losses and paid a lot of tuition to the “School of Hard Lessons” on the way to becoming a savvy Ukiyo-e buyer. And I’m still learning.

Collecting and art form you love should not be like this, and those who’ve worked to gain knowledge – sometimes the hard way – need to light the way for future generations.

This article is just the beginning of my exploration of fake prints in the Ukiyo-e and Shin Hanga markets. I want my followers to understand the ins and outs of this kind of scam: knowledge is power.

As I contemplated the altered or counterfeit examples of "Konjiki Hall at Hiraizumi, " I realized I needed to learn much more about the history of this print. So I went to the source. I visited the S·Watanabe Woodcut Print Shop in Ginza and spoke at length with the owner, Mr. Watanabe Shoichiro, the great Watanabe Shozaburo’s grandson. The company has been continuosly producing woodblock prints since the early 20th Century, and still does today. It was Shoichiro who generously and carefully walked me through the story of this print and its various editions, including the details from the diary. He, too, is aware that there are altered versions floating around. He is especially aggrieved at the “Heisei” editions with the “Heisei” seal removed.

I also contacted my friend Katherine Martin at Scholten Japanese Art, a respected Ukiyo-e gallery in New York. She is very leery of Hasui prints these days because of the numerous fakes, and is very, very careful before acquiring one. We agreed to share our concerns with our clients and online followers. In this way, Chinese, Japanese and American dealers are working together to rid the market of these fake prints by sounding the alarm.

I hope that with our joint efforts, more enthusiasts will pay attention to and join in it, sweep away more market chaos, and make the Ukiyo-e collection more secure, purer and happier.