In 1868 Wilhelm Burger (1844–1920) was appointed as the official photographer to the Austria-Hungary ligation to Siam, China, and Japan. In preparation for this inaugural diplomatic and commercial enterprise, Burger prepared numerous photographic glass negatives that could be later exposed to capture images of the mission. By employing the dry collodion process for capturing photographs, Burger no longer needed to use a portable darkroom as was necessary with the older wet collodion process. Burger was among the first to use the dry collodion method in Japan.[1]
Recently, Luke Gartlan has shown that Burger did not arrive in Japan with the lead Austrian naval vessel, the Donau, in early September 1869, but was delayed in Shanghai taking photographic records of Chinese artworks. He arrived a few weeks later, skipping the customary port-of-call at Nagasaki and rejoining the ligation at Yokohama.[2] After falling ill and subsequently requiring hospitalization, Burger was allowed to remain in Japan to continue his photographic documentary work as the rest of the mission continued on to South America that November. Burger remained in Japan until March 1870, disembarking out of Nagasaki on his way back to the Austrian Empire.
During his sixth month stay Burger was able to amass a large portfolio of Japanese images, both larger format landscapes and smaller format studio portraits.[3] Based on studio furnishings and props, it has long been known that Burger’s portraits were taken in the pioneering Japanese photographic studios of Ueno Hikoma 上野彦馬 (1838–1904), established in Nagasaki, and Shimooka Renjō 下岡蓮杖 (1823–1914), established in Yokohama. More critically, it has recently been shown that some of Burger’s purported photographs were more than likely taken by Ueno Hikoma and Shimooka Renjō themselves. For example, as Tani Akiyoshi and Peter Pantzer have demonstrated, the studio portrait negatives that remain in the Austrian National Library were prepared with the wet collodion process used extensively across Japan.[4] We may assume that Burger purchased these smaller format negatives and their copyrights to print and sell back in Europe.[5]
Figure 1
When we turn to Burger’s published portfolio of fifty-seven Japanese views held at the British Museum, catalogued as A Series of 56 [sic] Views of Towns, Villages in Japan, we find Buddhist figural imagery prominent in eight photographs, including three individual plates of the Kamakura Daibutsu.[6] One of these latter photographs (plate 59), with another example shown above [Fig. 1], depicts three men in Western attire, with two looking towards the camera and one towards the colossal bronze.
This photograph has sometimes been attributed to the famous photographer and Yokohama resident Felice Beato (1832–1909), but I feel this is unwarranted.[7] In spite of the fact that a photograph published under Burger’s name does not necessarily prove he made the original exposure, Burger did arrive in Japan prepared to take larger format landscape photographs, just as we see with this image of the Daibutsu. Moreover, as noted by Akiyoshi and Pantzer, the average size of Burger’s surviving dry collodion plates was 150 x 200 mm.[8] These would be contact printed on photosynthesized paper, thus a resulting print would have the same dimensions. The print illustrated here measures 135 x 200 mm, approximating the average size of Burger’s negative plates.
Moreover, given the popularity of the Daibutsu among foreigners in Yokohama (it was one of the few places within the established treaty boundaries), it seems natural that Burger would make the excursion during his stay in Japan from late fall to early spring and attempt to preserve it as part of his photographic record.[9] Other commercial photographers, such as William Saunders (1832–1892), William Andrew (fl. 1865), and Felice Beato, all previously included the bronze Kamakura icon as part of their studio portfolios.[10] The statue was arguably one of the most photographed objects in the region at the time.
The men in Western clothing in Burger’s photo remain unidentified. Another print showing some the same men in different positions is held by the Yokohama Museum of Fine Art; this is also currently attributed to Beato.[11]
After Burger’s return to the Austrian Empire he was granted the title of imperial and royal photographer (k.k. Hofphotograph) in November 1871. That same year he published Bilder aus Japan, a portfolio of his Japanese prints. A copy is held by the British Museum under the aforementioned English name A Series of 56Views of Towns, Villages in Japan.
[1] Gartlan 2009: 73, Akiyoshi & Pantzer 2011: 44, 49. There are notices of the French photographer Paul Champion (1838–?) (albeit with very limited success) and English amateur photographer Angus C. Fairweather using dry collodion plates in Japan before Burger’s arrival, see Bennett 2006b: 124 and 307.
[3] Upon his return to Austria, Burger also sold stereoviews of his travels, but these were not taken with a stereo camera and thus do not produce stereoscopic 3-D images, see Bennett 2006a: 169.
[4] According to the estimates of Akiyoshi and Pantzer, out of the 188 surviving negatives of Japan, 27 plates should be ascribed to Ueno Hikoma and 44 plates to Shimooka Renjō, see Akiyoshi & Pantzer 2011: 41. The authors raise other concerns as well, such as the limited time Burger had to organize and set up all of the studio models as well as his apparent misunderstanding, as exemplified in his later captions, of the locals portrayed.
[5] Such a practice was not uncommon at the time, see Akiyoshi & Pantzer 2011: 49–50.
[6] This includes object numbers: c13562-26 (plate 19), c13562-30 (plate 23), c13562-33 (plate 26), c13562-37 (plate 30), c13562-54 (plate 47), c13562-66 (plate 59), c13562-67 (plate 60), and c13562-68 (plate 61). The final three objects listed here depict the Kamakura Daibutsu.
[7] See, for example, the identification of this photograph held by the Santa Barbara Museum of Art (Ac. 2003.42.3) and the National Library of New Zealand (Ref. PA1-f-021-057-2). The latter photograph is part of the album compiled by Alexander Fisher (fl. 1861–1879) and entitled Album of Photographs Compiled on Cruises aboard HMS Endymion with the Flying Squadron and in the Mediterranean. The HMS Endymion sojourned in Yokohama for a few days in April 1870, only a month after Burger departed Japan. I speculate the Burger left a few prints of his work in local Yokohama shops before returning to Austria. Another print showing some the same men in different positions is held by the Yokohama Museum of Fine Art (Ref. 91-PHF-008); it is also attributed to Beato.
[9] Judging from the three photographs, it appears Burger made at least two trips, a possibly three, to the Kamakura Daibutsu: once in winter when the foliage was absent from some trees (see British Library items c13562-66 [plate 59] and c13562-67 [plate 60]) and once in early spring when the foliage had returned (c13562-68 [plate 61]). This latter photograph also shows additional damage to the railing on the left side of the image, suggesting it was taken at a different time. Another photograph of the Daibutsu reputedly taken by Burger can be found in his published stereoview set. One copy of the stereograph is preserved in the Nagasaki University Library (No. 3436). This image shows the entire railing intact and thus was either taken during Burger’s winter excursion or he procured it from another photographer in Japan. In any regard, the non-stereo photograph is found in Burger’s K. K. Mission nach Ostasien 1868-1871 preserved by the Museum für angewandte Kunst (Ref. KI 13660-15-2). It measures 86 x 71 mm, an approximate size that is appropriate for a stereoview.
Burger may have also taken another photograph that was used for the inaugural publication of the The Far East: A Monthly Illustrated Journal on May 30, 1870. It shows the left side railing completely removed. This would suggest Burger took at least a third trip to the Kamakura Daibutsu (or it is possibly the work of another photographer). Nevertheless, a copy of the photo is found in Burger’s K. K. Mission nach Ostasien 1868-1871 preserved by the Museum für angewandte Kunst (Ref. KI 14291-395). It measures 195 x 141 mm, although it appears part of the glass negative extends beyond the print.
[10] An article in the October 25th, 1862 issue of the Japan Herald describes Saunders selling a photograph of the Daibutsu, see Bennett 2006a: 59. An advertisement in the October 14th, 1865 issue of the Japan Herald notes Andrew selling a Daibutsu print, see Bennett 2006b: 120. The Daibutsu was a staple of Beato’s albums in the 1860s, see, for example, Lacoste 2010: 15.
Akiyoshi, Tani, and Peter Pantzer. 2011. “Wilhelm Burger’s Photographs of Japan: New Attributions of His Glass Negative Collection in the Austrian National Library.” PhotoResearcher 15:40–50.
Bennett, Terry. 2006a. Old Japanese Photographs Collectors’ Data Guide. London: Bernard Quaritch Ltd.
Bennett, Terry. 2006b. Photography in Japan 1853-1912. Rutland, VT: Tuttle Publishing.
Gartlan, Luke. 2009. “Photography and the Imperial Austrian Expedition in Nagasaki (1869-70).” Koshashin Kenkyu 古写真研究 3:72–77.
Lacoste, Anne. 2010. Felice Beato: A Photographer on the Eastern Road. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum.
The World Parliament of Religions, held as one of the many international congresses at the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago, is often regarded as a significant factor in the birth of religious pluralism in the United States. Equally, it is treated as one of the earliest formal encounters between leading Asian missionaries and American audiences, leading to a wider acceptance of Eastern Religions. Here, I want to briefly look beyond the speeches and presentations given at the World Parliament of Religions and examine the broader presence of a Buddhist material culture at the fair which lasted from May through the end of October. Outside of the Buddhist representatives at the Parliament, an event that lasted only two weeks, what other ways were Americans interacting with expressions of Buddhism at the fair?
Figure 1
Hōōden (Phoenix Pavilion) on Wooden Isle at the 1893 Columbian Exposition
Japan Building (Phoenix Pavilion): The centerpiece of Japan’s exhibits at the Columbian Exposition was the Hōōden 鳳凰殿, or Phoenix Pavilion, a large wooden building that was built in Japan, disassembled, and then reconstructed by Japanese craftsmen in Chicago [Fig. 1]. The Japanese concession building was a slightly smaller replica of the Phoenix Hall (Hōōdō 鳳凰堂) at Uji in Kyoto Prefecture. The original building in Japan, also known as the Amida Hall, was part of the eleventh century Buddhist temple complex known as Byōdōin. The exposition replica, however, was not fitted with Buddhist imagery and ritual paraphernalia, but in the words of Okakura Kakuzō, was “modified to adapt it for secular use.” The building was gifted to the city of Chicago after the fair. After decades of decline, the site was refurbished and re-opened as a tea house in 1935 until 1941. Vandals set fire to the building in 1946, reducing it to ashes. A set of three transom panels from the original building still exist in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago.
Figure 2
Front entrance to the Japanese exhibit in the West Court of the Palace of Fine Arts
Figure 3
Japanese exhibit on the second floor gallery of the East Court (note the entwined flags of Japan)
Figure 4
Japanese exhibit on the second floor gallery of the East Court
Figure5
Kannon (Ishikawa Kōmei)
Figure 6
Gigeiten (Takenouchi Kyuichi)
Japanese Exhibit, Palace of Fine Arts: For the first time in the history of World Fairs, Japan was allowed to present works under the category of Fine Arts at the Columbian Exposition. Of the hundreds of works submitted and put on display, about a dozen pieces directly represented Buddhist figures, Buddhist architecture, or Buddhist themes more generally. Japanese artworks occupied two areas in the Palace of Fine Arts, one on the main gallery in the west wing [Fig. 2] and the other on the second floor gallery surrounding three of the four sides of the central rotunda [Fig. 3]. Some of the most stunning sculptural pieces were Buddhist inspired and placed at the front and center of these exhibition spaces. Guarding one side of the entrance to the Japan exhibit on the main concourse was a giant bronze image of a fierce Buddhist figure who often protects the entrance of Japanese Buddhist temples, named Shukongōjin 執金剛神 (S. Vajradhāra)[Fig. 2]. This image was cast by Okazaki Sessei 岡崎雪聲 (1854–1921) and is currently owned by the Waseda University Aizu Yaichi Memorial Museum. A carefully carved miniature replica of the Yasaka Pagoda 八坂の塔 , executed by Niwa Keisuke 丹羽圭介 (1856–1941), was also placed in the alcove in front of the entrance [Fig. 2]. Lastly, a smaller image of Kannon Bodhisattva in ivory, carved by Ishikawa Kōmei 石川光明 (1852-1913), was also positioned at the entrance [Fig. 5]. One the second floor gallery overlooking the east court we find an expressive rendition of Gigeiten 技芸天 (S. Sarasvatī), a minor Buddhist deity who is considered a patron of the arts [Figs. 4 & 6]. This piece was carved in wood by Takenouchi Kyuichi 竹内久一 (1857–1916) and is currently owned by the University Art Museum at Tokyo University of the Arts.
Figure 7
Stereoscopic view of the Japanese exhibit in the Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building
Japanese Exhibit, Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building: At least one “handsome pagoda” was on display in at this exhibit [Fig. 7]. I have been unable to identify the maker of this object.
Japanese Exhibit, Horticulture Building: Japan’s horticulture and floriculture exhibit incorporated traditional stone lanterns (dōrō) into its garden displays.
Figure 8
Ceylon Building (Ceylon Court)
Ceylon Building (Ceylon Court): The official governmental building of Ceylon, now Sri Lanka, occupied over 18,000 square feet and was comprised of a central octagonal hall with two wings spreading to the north and south [Fig. 8]. The architectural form borrowed from Sinhalese Buddhist temple design in the Dravidian style. Photographs of temples in Sri Lanka were hung throughout the court. Most notably, the main central hall was flanked on both sides by large statues, one of the seated Buddha in meditation and one of a four-armed Viṣṇu painted in his characteristic dark blue hue. Figures such as nāgas, garudas, and yakṣas were also worked into various balustrades, pillars, and other architectural elements. A model of the Ruwanweli stūpa in Anuradhapura was constructed just outside of the main building, and was apparently “set apart for the use of the Ceylon court staff” [Handy 1893: 112]. After the fair, the main building was purchased by real estate mogul Frank R. Chandler and moved to Lake Geneva, Wisconsin, where it stood until it was demolished in 1958. While the front exterior of the building was commonly photographed, I have seen no imagery of the interior or the stūpa constructed in the back.
Sinhalese Exhibit, Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building: The Sinhalese pavilion in the Manufacturers Building was positioned between the Korean and Indian pavilions. It was reputedly created “in the form of a small Cingalese [sic] temple” [Bancroft 1893: 1.186, also Handy 1893: 112, White & Igleheart 1893: 135]. The interior displayed frescoes representing the life of the Buddha, which were made as copies from tenth and thirteenth century originals. Additionally, figures of the Buddha were found in the ornamental screen panels placed around the exhibit [White & Igleheart 1893: 135]. I have not located any photographs or illustrations of this exhibit.
Sinhalese Exhibit, Anthropological Building: The Ceylon Commission displayed a figure of a Buddhist monk and the Colombo Museum, now the National Museum of Colombo, provided a model of the Buddha’s tooth relic, presumably that which is preserved in Kandy, and a reliquary. Notably, a bronze statue of the Buddha was displayed by Don Carlos Appuhamy (1833–1906), a pioneer of the Buddhist revival movement in Sri Lanka and father of Anagārika Dharmapāla (1864–1933)[Handy 1893: 1102]. All of these objects fell under Group 164, which was described as “models and representations of ancient buildings, cities, or monuments of the historic period anterior to the discovery of America” [Anon 1891: 54]. I have not located any photographs or illustrations of this exhibit.
Figure 9
Interior of the East India Building
East India Building: Located close to the Sweden Building, the East India Building was a private venture funded by the Indian Tea Association of Calcutta. It occupied a 4,800 square foot footprint and was ornamented in an elaborate arabesque design [Handy 1893: 128]. The interior of the rectangular hall displayed goods for sale and was decorated with statues of the Buddha [Fig. 9]. Hanging signage advertised “Buddhist Idol [sic].” Additionally, “Burmese pagodas” were listed as on display in the official directory [Handy 1893: 274].
Figure 10
Siamese exhibit at the Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building
Siamese Exhibit, Manufacters and Liberal Arts Building: Siam, now known as Thailand, did not construct a separate governmental building, but its pavilion located in the Manufacters and Liberal Arts Building was partly created in a traditional temple style with elaborate sloped roofs and inlaid glass mosaic [Mayer 1893: 10]. Images of the Buddha, framed by floral designs, were carved in ivory and hung at the entrance of the pavilion [Bancroft 1893: 2.220][Fig. 10].
Figure 11
Gandharan Buddhist relief on display in the Anthropology Building
Figure 12
Stone carving of the Buddha’s hand in the Anthropology Building
Private British Collection, Anthropological Building: A unnamed British collector of curios also displayed at least two Indian Buddhist pieces of artwork [White & Igleheart 1893: 424]. One was a Gandharan relief depicting a narrative scene in the life of the Buddha [Fig. 11]. This item was reportedly originally recovered by an officer in the British army. The other item was the remnant of the webbed hand of the Buddha [Bancroft 1893: 643, 661-662][Fig. 12]. I am unsure of the whereabouts of these two items today. The exposition’s Department of Ethnology was under the supervision of Frederick Ward Putnan, the director of the Peabody Museum at Harvard, who was also in charge of arranging the displays in the Anthropological Building. Due to various delays, the Anthropological Building was not ready for visitors until one month after the fair opened [Hinsley 1991: 349]. This might account for the difficulty in finding a detailed directory of the building’s contents or schematic map of its displays (as we find, for example, with both the Palace of Fine Art and the Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building)[for diagrams of the fair’s buildings, minus the Anthropological Building, see Handy 1893]. Notably, while the outdoor ethnographic exhibits on the Midway Plaisance fell under the oversight of Putnam, in reality, Sol Bloom, a San Francisco businessman, was in charge of their installation [Hinsely 1991: 349].
Foreign Missionary Society, Women’s Building: A collection of “curios” from foreign missionary work was placed on display, of which “converted heathendom has also contributed to the collection a Turkish prayer roll, and a Buddhist rosary.” [Bancroft 1893: 2.285]. I have not located any photographs or illustrations of this exhibit.
Chinese Exhibit, Manufacturers and Liberal Arts Building: Since China declined to participate in the fair due to the recently enacted American laws against Chinese immigrants, especially the 1892 Geary Act, the Chinese presence was entirely comprised by private ventures. Merchants from Canton exhibited Chinese goods at the Manufacturers Building, which reputedly included tiny carvings of joss houses and pagodas [Bancroft 1893: 2.221]. I have not located any photographs or illustrations of this exhibit.
Figure 13
Exterior of the Chinese Village on the Midway Plaisance
Figure 14
Interior of the Joss House
Figure 15
Interior of the Joss House
Chinese Village, Theatre, and Joss House, Midway Plaisance: The Columbian Exposition was divided into two sections. The first was comprised mainly of large neoclassical buildings which housed the displays of international exhibitors. Known as the White City (or Dream City), this section was interpreted as by contemporary visitors and modern scholars as the utopian vision of a good, modern life. In contrast to the educational function of the exhibits in the White City, the carnivalesque amusement concession, known as the Midway Plaisance, was in the words of Robert Rydell, the “honky-tonk sector” of the fair. [Rydell 1978: 255]. Under the supervision of Sol Bloom, the Midway was principally a commercial endeavor, populated by displays installed by private entrepreneurs. The Wah Mee Exposition Company, operated and financed by three Chinese immigrants, opened a building complex that housed a Chinese theater, tea house (in some maps erected separately on the southern side of the Midway walkway), restaurant, shopping bazaar, shrine hall, and living diorama of daily life in a Chinese village. The shrine hall, adopting the common American nomenclature of “joss house,” was located on the second floor of the large building in the rear of the concession space. While some fair-goers describe the entirety of the hall as “Buddhist,” photographs reveal a relatively typical Chinese American shine populated with folk deities, semi-historical figures, and tutelary gods. It is very likely an image of Bodhisattva Guanyin was included on the altar, although I cannot clearly locate one in the surviving souvenir photographs. Textual accounts also note an additional display of Yama’s Ten Courts of Hell where different figures are represented in various modes of karmically determined tortures. Although the concession was created for tourists, the joss house appears to have been a fully functional shrine hall. At the closing of the fair, the contents of the joss house were auctioned off, but a few items were sold to the Field Museum, including a set of fortune sticks.
Other exhibits that could have displayed Buddhist objects: Japanese Bazaar, Midway Plaisance; Korean Exhibit, Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building; East Indian Exhibit, Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building; East Indian Exhibit, Anthropological Building; Gunning Collection, Anthropological Building; Cullin Collection, Anthropological Building.
The Kamakura period (1185-1333) was a time of intense religious activity in Japan. In particular, Buddhist priests who promoted faith in Amitābha Buddha, a figure who resided in the Western Pure Land and taught those fortunate to be reborn there, were influential in shaping the future of Japanese Buddhism. The founder of the Ji School (Jishū 時宗) of Pure Land Buddhism, Ippen 一遍 (1239-1289), was among the more obscure of these figures, but traditionally he is given the honorific title, Shōnin 上人, a name reserved for the most eminent of Buddhist priests. He is perhaps most celebrated for his sixteen year period of homeless wandering as a holy mendicant during which he distributed small talismans bearing the name of Amitābha Buddha. A central practice of the Pure Land schools was reciting this buddha’s name, thus the practice was called nembutsu 念仏, “recalling [Amitābha] Buddha.” Ippen sought to encourage this salvific practice among as many people as he could reach. In 1289, he passed away in a hall dedicated to the Buddhist bodhisattva of compassion, Avalokiteśvara, in a small temple that would soon come to be known as Shinkōji 真光寺. Located in Hyōgo, far from the Japanese capital, Shinkōji never became a powerful center of Japanese Buddhism, but it’s connection to Ippen – as it would come to house his remains – would garner it a small bit of local fame.
When foreign tourists first started traveling in large numbers to Japan in the last decades of the nineteenth century, Yokohama was the main port of entry for people traveling across the Pacific Ocean. The port of Hyōgo, which came to be subsumed by its neighbor Kōbe in 1892, was the next harbor that ships used when taking passengers further south along the Japanese coast. The ships would then eventually continue on to China, if not further west or even around the globe. This influx of travelers gave sites around the port of Kōbe more attention, of which Shinko-ji received a small share. For example, the temple was noted as being “worth a visit” by the widely circulated third edition of Murray’s Handbook for Travellers in Japan, published in 1891.[1] It was also noted in Keeling’s Guide to Japan, a popular illustrated guidebook sold in Yokohama at Adolfo Farsari’s shop. The centerpiece for most foreign tourists was a large bronze statue of a buddha, situated outside the main temple gate. At a height of just under sixteen feet, the statue was not as colossal as the Great Buddha in Kamakura, but its placement in the middle of a lush lotus pond made it a picturesque and desirable location for visitors to enjoy. While some sources claim the Shinkōji statue depicts Amitābha Buddha, the iconography suggests Vairocana Buddha, an identification substantiated by Shinkōji today.
Figure 1
Title/Caption: The Shinkoji Temple, Hyogo-Kobe
Year: 1920’s
Publisher: Sakaeya & Co.
Medium: silver gelatin print on cardstock
Dimensions: 5.5 in X 3.3 in
Reverse Imprint: Postcard/郵便はかき
The postcard here depicts the Shinkōji statue atop its pedestal in the middle of the lotus pond [Fig. 1]. To the left of the statue is a large gable roof structure which acted as the main gate giving access to the inner monastic compound. Behind the plastered wall we see the tiled roofs of the bell tower and main hall. The small pond in front was used to rescue and release turtles.
The English caption clearly denotes the location of the image, but the Japanese caption provides more commentary on the religious relevance of the site. It notes that this temple as sacred location where Ippen passed away, a story that would resonate more with Japanese pilgrims than Western tourists. This also tacitly acknowledges the diverse reasons for visiting temples, as more foreign visitors were interested in seeing – and capturing – the picturesque sites of Japan. Like curio collectors they could return home with their souvenir spoils.
Figure 2 (detail of Figure 1)
The large halo fixed to the statue’s upper back, suggesting a radiant glow emanating from the icon, helps draw attention to the calm features of the buddha’s face [Fig. 2]. Without a person in the picture for scale it is difficult to assess that the statue is much larger than life-size; a person standing atop the ivy covered base would barely surpass the height of the square white stone pedestal.[2] The pole to the left of the pedestal appears to support a small round light that is level with the statue’s head. Viewed from the harbor, the city of Kobe and surrounding hillsides were known to cast a delightful glow at night, suggesting electric lights were installed throughout the region. When turned on, this light likely would have cast a gentle glow on the buddha’s face at night.[3]
Figure 3
Figure 4
Unlike many Japanese produced postcards of the time, this is not a photomechanical print made with ink, but a silver gelatin photograph. Thus, this “real photo” postcard was chemically processed as a photograph on cardstock bearing a postcard design. By the early 1920’s several Japanese publishers were issuing real photo postcards as part of their commercial catalogues. Sakaeya & Co., the publisher of this postcard, was based in Kobe and many of its cards depict the environs of the bustling port city. The lion insignia in the stamp box was the trademark of Sakaeya, which was one of the largest distributors of postcards in Japan [Figs. 3 & 4]. Based on similar cards issued by other publishers, this card likely dates to the early 1920’s.
During World War II, the entire Hyōgo ward of Kōbe was destroyed by the allied firebomb attacks in March 1945. Most of “Old” Shinkōji was destroyed and the statue at the front gate appears to have been lost.[4]Temple records reveal the statue was installed on temple grounds in 1760. Nineteenth century Japanese photography studio prints and twentieth century picture postcards remain some of the best artifacts cataloguing this wonderful piece of Japanese Buddhist art.
[2] The height of the Shinkō-ji statue is noted as being 4.8 meters tall. This height is equivalent to the traditional measurement of “one jō and six shaku” (一丈六尺 ichijō rokushaku, often shortened to jōroku 丈六), which was considered to be the true height of the historical Buddha while standing. Many “Great Buddha” images in Japan were made to match this height. Since the Shinkōji image was made sitting, it would be close to twice the traditional height of the Buddha.
[3] The pole does not appear in studio photographs from the nineteenth century, nor in postcards issued before 1918. Another postcard in the Archive clearly shows wires leading from the pole to behind the statue towards the wall (it is missing a light bulb, however). It also shows towering wooden power lines in the background, proving the temple had electricity by at least the early 1920’s. See a cropped image of this postcards here:
Power lines run from the temple to the pole in front of the pedestal; also note the power lines supported by the wood tower in the background (on the right).
[4] The temple website does not currently count the statue as among its current holdings. It is worth noting that a statue of the Buddhist figure Jizō was enshrined in 1936 and still remains on the temple grounds, thus some objects did survive the bombing. I have not found any resource to confirm the statue was destroyed, but it does not appear to be on display at this point. As for now, I must leave the question regarding the statue’s current existence as unknown.
Kaufman, Laura. 1992. “Nature, Courtly Imagery, and Sacred Meaning in the Ippen Hijiri-e,” in Flowing Traces: Buddhism in the Literary and Visual Arts of Japan, eds. James H. Sanford, William R. LaFleur and Masatoshi Nagatomi, Princeton: Princeton University Press, pp. 47-75.
Yanagi Sōetsu, and Waddell, Norman. 1973. “Ippen Shōnin,” The Eastern Buddhist, Vol. 6, No. 2, pp. 33-57.
Additional Posts in Visual Literacy of Buddhism Series
During the long period of British rule in Burma (modern Myanmar), the Imperial Post Office of India oversaw all mail delivery across British India, which included a circuit in eastern-most Burma. Postcards were introduced through the British postal department in 1879 and were first marketed at the inexpensive rate of a quarter-anna. That same year, a popular Indian newspaper proclaimed, “Postal cards are now a rage all over India.” [1]
The immediate popularity of the mail system, and postcards in particular, was not the case in Burma, however. Few Burmese elected to use the colonial mail system (unlike in India, Burma had no native mail system previous to British occupation) and postal employees conversant in Burmese were difficult to recruit. By the 1890s, postcards were still a rarity in both Lower and Upper Burma. And while more than fourteen million letters and postcards were sent across the Burmese province in 1900, more than three quarters were written by non-Burmese.[2] Nevertheless, a viable commercial postcard market grew in the first decade of the twentieth century, centered in the provincial capital of Rangoon (modern Yangon). Many of the early Burmese postcard publishers operated professional photography studios and thus many postcard images can also be found in commercial tourist albums now in personal and private collections around the world. This included the work of Felice Beato, Philip Klier, D.A. Ahuja, and Frederick Albert Edward Skeen and Harry Walker Watts. A sizable collection of Burmese postcards can be found in the Pitt Rivers Museum archive at the University of Oxford, donated in 1986 by the Burma-born artist Noel F. Singer, and the wonderfully digitized collection of Sharman Minus.
D. A. Ahuja
Reverse of Ahuja studio carte-de-viste mounting card. Ahuja was at this address from approx. 1906-1920.
The firm D.A. Ahuja & Co. was the largest publisher of postcards in colonial Burma and continued operation through the late 1950s. Very little is known about the personal life of the proprietor, D.A. Ahuja (c.1865–c.1939), but he claims to have established his business in Rangoon in 1885. It is likely he immigrated from India, along with thousands of other Indians during the colonial period, but his family’s precise origins remain debated, with both Punjab and Shikarpur (in modern Pakistan) as suggestions. The earliest firm documentation comes in 1900, when he announced the change of his company name from Kundandass & Co. to his own personal name, located at 87 Dalhousie Street in Rangoon. The following year Ahuja published a photography manual in Burmese and in English translation, with the latter entitled Photography in Burmese for Amateurs. In a 1917 advertisement pictorial postcards remained “a specialty” for Ahuja, but his business had expanded beyond photography and involved exporting a wide variety of Burmese goods.[3]
Ahuja produced some of the most distinctive and vibrant color postcards in South Asia. As is noted on the reverse of his cards, they were printed in Germany, then the commercial center of postcard printing. German printers used a lithographic-halftone hybrid process, first applying layers of color using a lithographic substrate and then applying a black halftone screen. Only the final key plate (i.e. black ink plate) carried the fine detail of the photograph. Several of Ahuja’s images were taken from his competitors, including Philip Klier and Watts & Skeen. While Ahuja apparently bought out the photographic stock of Watts & Skeen, Klier filed a lawsuit against Ahuja for copyright infringement in 1907. Klier won the claim, but it appears Ahuja paid for the rights to reproduce Klier’s photographs since he continued to print them years after the lawsuit.
I still remain uncertain when the colonial British post office allowed divided back postcards. This began in England in 1902, but thus far I have not confirmed if this was the case for the Post Office of India. Postcards were first introduced nine years later in British India, thus I assume there might be a lag in changes in Indian postal code.
Undivided Back
Type 1: This is the only undivided back design I have seen from Ahuja, printed in a distinctive evergreen color. It cannot predate his business name change in 1900. I have not seen any examples with a printed stamp box. Note that the design is similar to the undivide Klier card. The obverse always leaves a small portion of the card on the bottom (for both vertical and horizontally oriented photographs) blank for correspondence. The photograph is otherwise bled to the edges of the card. The caption uses red ink with an italicized front.
Divided Back
Type 2: I presume this to be the earliest divided back design of Ahuja cards since it follows the undivided back design so closely. Again, I have not seen any examples with a printed stamp box. Significantly, there also appears to be a renumbering of the photographic stock numbers when compared to the same images on the undivided back cards. In many cases a blank space with caption is retained on the obverse, just as we saw with the undivided back specimens. In a handful of cases, the photograph is bled to all edges of the card and the caption is printed directly atop the image. Type 3: The black ink design signals an overhaul of the entire card design by Ahuja. The stock number is brought to the front of the publisher line. Ahuja’s use of the word “copyright” is very inconsistent. I have noticed, however, that he uses the term when his is copying a photograph of Klier, a rather unintuitive practice given a lawsuit was brought against him by Klier in 1907. The upper limit of stock numbers for the black-back design I have seen thus far is 155. The earliest cancellation date I have seen for this design is November 1907. We now encounter Ahuja’s distinctive captioning style, a white label placed at the bottom of the image. There are slight variations in font, but I have not been able to trance out any rationale for the changes. Type 4: A green ink is now used for the reverse design. “Printed in Germany” is marked in the stamp box. All notices of “copyright” are removed, even if the photograph was originally taken by Klier (I presume Ahuja obtained the rights after the lawsuit). The upper limit of stock numbers for the green-back design I have seen thus far is 614. The earliest date I have seen for this design is August 1912.Type 5: This card design remains curious to me. It retains the older method of placing the stock number at the end of the publisher line, but still has the stamp box marking printing in Germany. The obverse design also has a white border around the photograph with the stock number as part of the caption.
Philip Klier
Reverse of Klier studio carte-de-viste mounting card.
Philip Adolphe Klier (1845–1911) first arrived in Moulmein, Lower Burma, in 1870 and established business that offered a range of services, one of them being a photography studio. By the late 1870s he created a large portfolio of photographs and moved to a new location in Rangoon, the bustling capital of British Burma. Klier’s business continued after his death for about another decade.
Klier produced large format albumen prints of various locations around Burma, focusing on the major cities of Moulmein, Rangoon, and Mandalay. His studio photographs would be inscribed with the name of the location and a stock number while later photos from the late 1880s or early 1890s would also include his name. A large digitized collection of Klier’s work is housed at the National Gallery of Australia. It is difficult to ascertain when Klier started publishing postcards from his photography stock, but it was certainly sometime during the 1890s. Noel Singer has suggested the well known German printer, Verlag v. Albert Aust, in Hamburg partnered with Klier to produce a series, Birma Series Asien.[4] The earliest issues (at least, imprinted with Klier’s name) were collages, typically of two or three monochromatic photographs with significant blank incorporated around the images for correspondence. Eventually, this style gave way to single photo cards and then tinted cards.
The analysis below is preliminary – there appear to be a wide variety of variants in both the obverse and reverse design.
Undivided Back
Type 1: The reverse for the Birma Series Asien cards issued by Verlag v. Albert Aust. In addition to the caption providing the location of the photograph, a series stock number was included.Type 2: The reverse deign for the early monochromatic collage cards (see above). Except for the inclusion of the stamp box, this design is similar to the back of the undivided Ahuja cards. The collage cards backs are typically in red ink. The obverse of the collage cards, in addition to the caption, would incorporate Klier’s name and address, and the word “copyright” – presumably in accordance with new trademark laws enacted in 1894 (see Berchiolly 2018: 98n.16). Type 3: The reverse design for an unknown publisher that used Klier’s photographs, only identified by Klier’s inscription on the original photograph, not imprinted on the card. Not all cards with this reverse design have a photograph with Klier’s inscription in view, thus more research needs to be done on these issues. Type 4: Similar to the reverse design above, the obverse bears a single image bled to three edges (the bottom or right side is left blank for correspondence). The image could be monochromatic or polychromatic. Some monochromatic images are printed in dark blue ink for both the obverse caption and reverse design. Colored images typically have black ink reverse designs, like above. I presume these to be later than the collage cards with red ink reverse designs. The obverse bears Klier’s name and a stock number.
Divided Back
Type 5: A reverse design for monochromatic images bled to all four edges.Type 6: A reverse design for monochromatic images bled to all four edges. I am unsure of the number in the bottom right.Type 7: A reverse design for colored images. I am unsure of the number in the bottom right.
Notes
[1] Clarke 1921: 8.
[2] Frost 2016: 1059.
[3] Berchiolly 2018: 113. I am indebted to Berchiolly’s work for the life of Ahuja and Klier.
[4] Noted in Berchiolly 2018: 98.
References
Berchiolly, Carmin. 2018. “Capturing Burma: Reactivating Colonial Photographic Images through the British Raj’s Gaze,” MA Thesis, Northern Illinois University.
Birk, Lukas and Berchiolly, Carmín. Reproduced: Rethinking P.A. Klier and D.A. Ahuja. Vienna: Fraglich Publishing.
Clarke, Geoffrey. 1921. The Post Office of India and its Story. London.
Davis, G., and Martin, D. 1971. Burma Postal History. London.
Falconer, John. 2014. “Cameras at the Golden Foot: Nineteenth-century Photography in Burma,” in 7 Days in Myanmar: A Portrait of Burma by 30 Great Photographers, by John Falconer, Denis Gray, Thaw Kaung, Patrick Winn, Nicholas Grossman, and Myint-U Thant. Singapore: Didier Millet, pp. 27-29.
Frost, Mark. R. 2016. “Pandora’s Post Box: Empire and Information in India, 1854–1914,” English Historical Review, Vol. 131, No. 552, pp 1043-73.
Imamura, Jackie. “Early Burma Photographs at the American Baptist Historical Society,” Archives, Vol. 4, No. 1. [here]
Khan, Omar. 2018. Paper Jewels: Postcards form the Raj. Mapin Publishing Pvt. Limited. [also see website below]
Sadan, Mandy . 2014. “The Historical Visual Economy of Photography in Burma,” Bijdragen Tot De Taal-, Land- En Volkenkunde / Journal of the Humanities and Social Sciences of Southeast Asia, Vol. 170, pp. 281-312.
Singer, Noel F. 1993. Burmah: A Photographic Journey, 1855-1925. Gartmore, Stirling: Paul Strachan Kiscadale.
Singer, Noel F. 1999. “Philipp Klier: A German Photographer in Burma,” Arts of Asia, Vol. 29, No. 1, pp. 106-13.
This map locates many of the Chinese temples built in San Francisco before the 1906 earthquake and fire. Known generically as miao 廟 (or miu in Cantonese), meaning temple or shrine hall, most of the non-Chinese American public referred to these structures as “joss houses” in the nineteenth century. A principle function of these temples, from which their American name derived, was to house Chinese religious icons, commonly called “joss.” Rarely, however, did urban temples occupy a whole building; temples were more typically shrine halls located on the top floor of a multi-story structure. Moreover, these temples were not operated by religious institutions, but were owned and operated by various community organizations. A handful seem to have been privately owned. Often the largest temples were operated by different district associations (huiguan 會館), while many other temples were run by secret fraternal organizations (tang 堂) or various associations organized around clan lineages or trades. Many temples, especially privately owned ones, enshrined numerous icons that could be worshiped for an array of reasons, but sometimes a temple was dedicated to a single figure who functioned like the patron deity of the association or guild. This icon was placed in the central altar of the main shrine hall. In the case of larger district association buildings, the lower floors were typically used for non-religious functions, such as meeting rooms, short-term lodging, or other work spaces necessary for the operation of the organization.
The base map used here is the 1887 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map. This is followed by brief commentary and related imagery showing the exterior and interior of selected temples.
*May 2025 Update: Significant revisions to map and commentary. I’ve archived the older post here.
Map of Temples in San Francisco’s Chinatown: 1850s-1906
Click to open enlarged map in new tab
Notes: I’ve arranged temples and shrines according to type, following the classifications of Chuimei Ho and Bennet Bronson (2022). The two locations in the key numbered with an “X” fall outside the range of this map: the Sze Yup / Kong Chow building was at 512 Pine Street (Pine runs parallel to California Street) and Ah Ching’s Tin How Temple was on one of the corners where Post Street crosses Mason Street. Please note, this map is syncretic, not all of the temples and shrines existed at the same time and many moved to different locations around Chinatown (noted by I, II, etc.), sometimes taking up residence in older temple buildings.
Comparison of 1887 Sanborn Map and 1885 Board of Supervisors’ Map
Some of oldest temples in Chinatown are thought to be the Tin How Temple [#14] and the Kong Chow temple [#X1], both often claimed to have been built in the early 1850s, but this is not without some dispute. The earliest media report of a Chinese temple in San Francisco – characterized variously as a heathen, pagan, and idol temple in newspaper accounts – appears in fall 1851, but the temple’s identity and affiliation remains unknown. The earliest identifiable temple is the Yeong Wo Association building, built on the southwestern slope of Telegraph Hill in fall 1852. Both of these predate the Sze Yup Association temple, sometimes mistakenly considered the first Buddhist temple in the United States, which was constructed on a corner lot on Pine Street and Kearny Street in 1853 [see #X1 below]. By the 1880s, Waverly Place, the two-block road between Sacramento Street and Washington Street, was known among the Chinese as Tin How Temple Street (Tianhou miao jie 天后廟街) and became the home to the greatest density of Chinese temples before the 1906 earthquake.
While the Tin How and Kong Chow temples are today considered among the most famous in Chinatown, both being rebuilt after the earthquake and fire, an examination of historical media coverage, travel accounts, and visual portrayals of San Francisco’s Chinese religious heritage reveals a for more complex historical picture. As Chinatown grew and developed through the nineteenth century, different temples garnered attention at different times, some eventually falling into obscurity after a period of relative fame. One of the first temples to attract media attention was the opening of the Sze Yup Association temple in 1853 [#X1], only later to become the legal property of the Kong Chow Association in the mid-1860s. The next to receive substantial attention was the Ning Yung Temple in 1864 [#34], in part due to the description of the temple’s opening by an early-career Samuel Clemens, later known as Mark Twain. Through the 1860s this was considered the primary “joss house” for tourists to visit, located in relative proximity to the new Globe Hotel on Dupont and Jackson. In the following decade significant media and tourist guidebook attention was directed towards the privately owned Eastern Glory Temple [#24] in 1871 on St. Louis Alley and then towards the new and ornately decorated Hop Wo Temple on Clay Street after 1874 [#10]. When the Yeong Wo moved from their old building on Brooklyn Place [#2] to their new site on Stockton [#6] in 1887, they also began attracting more outside visitors and curious onlookers, in part due to the festive parades held in honor of their main icon. Lastly, when the Ning Yung moved to their new temple on Waverly [#8] in 1891 in the heart of Chinatown, they were considered the most opulent and worthy of tourist visitation. After rebuilding and reopening in 1911, the Tin How temple was seen as a reminder of old Chinatown, especially as many of the previous temples and shrines halls were never rebuilt.
Limiting ourselves to the temples listed here where a main icon can be identified, the semi-historical figure Guandi 關帝 was the most common [#8/#34, #10, #27, #X1, and all secret societies). Two, or possibly three, temples focused devotion to the Empress of Heaven (i.e. Tianhou 天后), also known as the goddess Mazu 媽祖 [#14, #30, #X2], and two temples were dedicated to the popular Buddhist figure Guanyin Bodhisattva [#12, #19]. Guanyin and Tianhou also appeared in a few temples flanking the main icon or were placed in adjacent altars, rooms, or floors [#2, #24, #X2]. Another important figure was the Supreme Emperor of the Dark Heavens (Xuantian shangdi 玄天上帝), also known as the Northern Emperor (Beidi 北帝), whose icon traveled with the movement of the Eastern Glory Temple [#24, #16]. Among the numerous fraternal societies that operated temples, the Chee Kong Society [#18] was by considerable margin the most influential.
It is worth noting I have not encountered a valid report or illustration of a Śākyamuni or Amitābha Buddha statue in any pre-1906 Chinese temple in San Francisco. Despite many tourist accounts of seeing “the Buddha” at a Chinatown temple, such accounts can be easily explained as ignorance; most often the object of mis-identification was an icon of Guandi or the Northern Emperor. Some accounts even seem to use the term “buddha” as analogous to “joss” with no more precise meaning than “Chinese idol.” In contrast to the limited nature and function of community organization temples and shrine halls, many of which prominently displayed Guandi, privately owned temples had more freedom to enshrine a wider range of icons, including Buddhist ones. In this regard, the figure of Guanyin seems to have played a central role in the religious life of many early Chinese immigrants, being found in five locations on this map and likely remaining unreported at many others. At least one observer in 1883 claimed Guanyin occupied a “prominent corner of every private home as well as temple.” Images of the Buddha found no such popular support among early Chinese immigrants in San Francisco.
A brief note on dating: When examining secondary research on the history of Chinatown’s temples one will often run into different dates for a particular temple’s founding. On one hand, this is due to a conflation between the formal organization of a district association and the construction of a district association building, two distinct events that may be separated by many years. For example, while the Ning Yung Association organized in 1853, the earliest mention of an association building with shrine hall is 1864, an eleven-year gap. I am interested in the building of Chinese temples, often reported with fanfare in news media, which allows us to focus attention on the reception and influence of Chinese material culture in the United States. On another hand, not only did the 1906 earthquake and fire destroy Chinatown’s religious buildings, but also almost all district association and fraternal society records. Some of the associations or temples claiming to date to the 1850s, for example, are often relying on oral histories. This is valuable data that must be viewed in conjunction with other available historical records. As of this writing, the most detailed information regarding the history of Chinese temples in San Francisco is Chuimei Ho and Bennet Bronson’s Chinese Traditional Religion and Temples in North America, 1849–1920: California (2022). Some of my observations below supplement their analysis.
Selected Temples (With Brief Commentary and Selected Imagery)
1. Lung Kong Association (Longgang gongsuo 龍岡公所) 9 Brooklyn Place / 1887 Sanborn
The two-story Lung Kong building opened in the mid-1880s. San Francisco-based photographer Isaiah West Taber (1830–1912) was able to capture a rare image of the main altar and shrine hall in 1887 (see below). The central icons were five glorified cultural heroes, Liu Bei 劉備 (center), Guan Yu 關羽 (center right), Zhang Fei 張飛 (center left), Zhao Yun 趙雲 (far right), and Zhuge Liang 諸葛亮 (far left).[For more on Taber’s photograph and it’s continued biography as a postcard, see here]. Taber’s photograph was repurposed for the cover toWilliam Bode’s Lights and shadows of Chinatown in 1896. A simplistic sketch from Edward Wilson Currier (1857–1918) possibly showing the temple’s two-story brick building exterior from 1898 was published in a San Francisco tour guide. It appears Arnold Genthe (1869–1942) may have also taken a photograph looking the opposite way down Brooklyn, just capturing the temple’s lanterns (see both below). All temple records and artifacts were lost in the 1906 earthquake. The Long Kong Association rebuilt after 1906 at a different location and is still in operation today under the name Lung Kong Tin Yee Association.
I.W. Taber, “B 2699 Chinatown, S. F. Cal. The Five Idols in the Holy of Holies in the Joss Temple of Lung Gong,” 1887. [source]
[Interior of a Chinese Joss House, San Francisco] From Frank Leslie’s Sunday Magazine, April 1888, photograph by Iasiah Taber.
I.W. Taber, “B 2698 Chinatown, S. F. Cal. The incense table in the Joss Temple of Lung Gong,” 1887. [source]
William Bode, Lights and shadows of Chinatown, 1896 [source]
Arnold Genthe, “Old Longgang Temple lanterns, Chinatown, 4 Brooklyn Place, San Francisco,” 1896–1906 [source]
2. Yeong Wo Association I (Yanghe huiguan 陽和會館) / Temple of Golden Flower (Jinhua 金花) 4 Brooklyn Place / 1905 Sanborn
This small two-story building on Brooklyn Place was occupied by the Yeong Wo Association headquarters since at least 1884 before moving to its more permanent location down Sacramento Street [#6]. In the late 1880s a private temple took over the building that according to Frederic Masters was, “crowded with images of goddesses, mothers, nurses, and children.” The central icon was Lady Golden Flower (Jinhua niangniang 金花娘娘), a figure known to protect the health of women and children. This figure was flanked by Guanyin and Tianhou. Additionally, along the walls of the temple were arranged eighteen attendant wet nurses (nainiang 奶娘) of Lady Golden Flower. One report in 1883, likely before Golden Flower Temple opened, notes that icons of Golden Flower, holding a child in each of her arms, were placed under the bed of Chinatown’s infants. Altars to Golden Flower were also established in private temples, such as we see in An Ching’s Tin How Temple [#X2] and Eastern Glory Temple on St. Louis [#24]. The 1885 Board of Supervisors’ Map locates a joss house at this location, almost certainly indicating the Yeong Wo temple. The 1887 Sanborn Map identifies no temple at this address, suggesting the map was prepared after the Yeong Wo association moved, but before Golden Flower Temple opened its doors. The Golden Flower Temple was not rebuilt after the 1906 earthquake.
[Interior of the Temple of Golden Flower] From Masters’ “Our Pagan Temples” (1892).
3. Lord Tam Temple (Tamgong miao 譚公廟) Oneida Place / 1887 Sanborn
This was a three-story clan association temple for the Tam (Tom) families and was in existence by the late 1880s, but reputed by Frederic Masters to be among the oldest in Chinatown. Located on Oneida Place, the central icon is recorded as Lord Tam (Tamgong 譚公), often considered a patron saint of seafarers – and at least in Chinatown, for theater troupes as well – and closely associated with the minority Hakka ethnic group. Charles Albert Rodgers painted the temple’s entrance in 1901 [viewable here].
4. Washermen’s Guild Shrine 825 Washington / 1887 Sanborn
There were several washermen’s guilds in Chinatown, but one was known to meet regularly on Oneida Place. One newspaper account from 1870 notes the guild’s joss house was in the rear of a two-story building at 825 Sacramento, accessible by a narrow set of stairs off Oneida Place. Missionary Augustus W. Loomis, who took over the Presbyterian Church in Chinatown in 1859, claimed the washermen’s guild set up altars to Guandi, seeking to secure prosperity for their businesses. According to Chuimei Ho and Bennett Bronson suggest the guild shrine may have moved to 810 Clay by 1887 [#11].
5. Chinese Merchant’s ExchangeShrine 739 Stockton
Located at 739 Stockton in 1882, the Chinese Merchant’s Exchange was independent from the district associations, but still held considerable power. Local reports note the Exchange building possessed a joss, before which business transactions were sealed. The small shrine depicting a spirit tablet was included as an insert for an illustration published by Harper’s Weekly in 1882 (see below).
Paul Frenzeny, “Chinese Merchant’s Exchange, San Francisco,” Harper’s Weekly, 18 March 1882. [source][alternate]
6. Yeong Wo Association II (Yanghe huiguan 陽和會館) 730 Sacramento Street / 1887 Sanborn
The Yeong Wo Association originally had a temple on the southwestern slope of Telegraph Hill by 1852 (exact address remains unknown). An uncharacteristically detailed newspaper report of the time recounts the opening of the shrine hall which included the performance of Chinese opera as part of the festivities and confused by the observer as part of the ritual performance conducted Chinese priests. By the late 1860s the Yeong Wo organization was known to be developing property on Sacramento Street, but seems to have transitioned to a temporary location on Brooklyn Place [#2]. For a time in 1885 the Yeong Wo seems to have also occupied 730 Jackson [#30]. The final move down to Sacramento Street in 1887 – nearly twenty years after the move was initially reported – involved a festive parade for the central icon Houwang 侯王, a semi-historical figure who had become the “patron saint” of the association. Houwang’s annual birthday celebration also involved a raucous parade of the icon through the streets of Chinatown, causing much media attraction up through 1906. Amédéé Joulin (1862–1917), a French-American painter born in San Francisco, reputedly painted the interior of the Yeong Wo temple in 1890. Two newspaper illustrations show the temple decorated for festivals (see below). After the 1906 earthquake the Yeong Wo shrine hall was not replaced.
Amédéé Joulin, “An Interior of a Joss House – At Prayer,” 1890. [also here]
From “How Wong’s Birthday,” San Francisco Call, 24 September 1895.
From “Cymbals Crash…,” San Francisco Call, 22 September 1903.
8. Ning Yung Association II (Ningyang huiguan 寧陽會館) 35 Waverly Place / 1905 Sanborn
The Ning Yung Association moved from its original location [#34] to Waverly in 1891. Two rather crude newspaper sketches offer a glimpse at the official procession and parade as well as the new altar for the main Ning Yung Association icon, Guandi. Frederic Masters called this building the finest temple in Chinatown in 1892 and visitors reported marveling at its marble stairs and gas lighting. Construction reportedly cast $160,000 with opening festivities lasting ten days and costing an estimated $15,000. Isaiah West Taber took a photo of the three-story building around 1891 (see below). After the 1906 earthquake, the association building was rebuilt, but the shrine hall was not replaced.
[Carrying the Joss to New Quarters] From “Housing a Joss,” San Francisco Chronicle, 1891 September 26.
[In the New Joss House] From “A New Josshouse,” San Francisco Chronicle, 1891 September 25.
I.W. Taber, “3546 The New Chinese Joss House, Waverly Place, San Francisco,” c.1891. [source]
William Bode, Lights and shadows of Chinatown, 1896 [source][also here]
“Chinese Burn Punk for Quon Kong, the Allwise,” San Francisco Chronicle, 1897 October 7.
[Street View of Ning Yung Building] Keystone View Company, “11659 – Reading War News-In Chinatown, San Francisco, Cal. U.S.A.” c.1901. [source]
10. Hop Wo Association (Hehe huiguan 合和會館) 751 Clay Street / 1887 Sanborn
The Hop Wo Association formed in 1862 and opened its first headquarters with temple in 1874, occupying a three-story brick building directly across from the southwest corner of Portsmouth Square. The shrine hall, dedicated to Guandi, was on the top floor and outfitted with a reported $30,000 worth of icons, furnishings, and ritual equipment shipped from China. Soon after opening, a touring New York clergyman marveled at the temple’s opulence, claiming he was “entranced in a blaze of glory!” Through the early 1880s tourist guide books continued to recommend seeing the Hop Wo shrine hall, but by 1892 the building had lost its former luster, with Frederic Masters proclaiming it a “dingy-looking place.” Isaiah West Taber took two rare photographs of the shrine hall in the mid-1880s (see one below). These were sold by Taber’s studio by 1889. The shrine hall was not replaced after the 1906 earthquake.
I. W. Taber, “4769 God in Joss Temple, Chinatown, S.F., Cal.” mid-1880s. [source]
From Frederic Master’s “Our Pagan Temples” (1892).
11. Hong Sing Society [?] / Dock Tin Society 810 Clay / 1887 Sanborn
The 1887 Sanborn map notes this location at 810 Clay as “Chinese Laundry 2d Joss Ho 3d,” meaning it identified a joss house on the top floor. (The 1885 Supervisors’ Map identified the building as a restaurant.) Several contemporary photographs looking east down Clay towards Dupont (see proper map orientation here) suggest a shrine hall occupied the top floor (see below, also here, here, here & here). Hanging lanterns were a fixture on both restaurant and temple balconies, but one would expect to see inscribed boards above and on both sides of the main door of a temple. Existing photographs do not clearly show such details. Newspaper reports, however, provide some clues. In 1892, a fire damaged the roof of the St. Francis hotel, located on the corner of Dupont and Clay, which consequently damaged a joss house belonging to the Hong Sing Society, reputed “on Waverly” (see below). Perhaps it referred to 810 Clay? Moreover, in January 1895, continuing police raids in Chinatown claim to have captured a “war joss” (i.e. Guandi) from Dock Tin Society at 810 Clay [source]. If we turn to the 1905 Sanborn map we find the third floor was still being used for society rooms [here]. Regardless of these activities, 810 Clay was perhaps most known for its successful restaurant that operated on the first and second floors into the early twentieth century. It appears the restaurant or building owner rented space to various Chinese societies from time to time. Overall, the eye-catching balconies of 810 Clay would become a favorite of Chinatown photographers and postcard manufacturers (see detailed write-up by Doug Chan here)[additional photos of Clay & Waverly here].
[Damaged temple on Waverly] From “Pagan Gods Scorched,” San Francisco Call, 27 October 1892.
12. Wong Kong Ha Shrine (Huang jiangxia 黃江夏) 3 Brenham Place / 1887 Sanborn
Both the 1885 Surveyors’ Map and the 1887 Sanborn Map mark 3 Brenham Place as a joss house, coincidentally right next door to the Chinese Mission. The multi-story wood building was possibly owned by the wealthy Wong Kong Ha clan. One photo reputedly dated to 1880 appears to show 3 Brenham Place with a shrine hall on the top floor (see below). The 1887 Sanborn map shows a three story brick building with joss house, a precursor to the four-story building built by the Wong clan in 1890. The top held a shrine to Water Moon Guanyin. In 1894 they moved the shrine hall next door, as can be seen in the 1905 Sanborn map [here].
Anonymous, “Brenham Place, west Side of Portsmouth Plaza. Monumental Engine Co. ca. 1880” c.1880. [source]
14. Tin How Temple (Tianhou miao 天后廟) & Sam Yup Association II (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館)[?] & Hip Yee Society (Xieyi tang 協義堂) 33 / 121 Waverly Place / 1887 Sanborn
In 1892, Frederic Masters claimed the Tin How Temple was connected to the Sam Yup Association, but Chuimei Ho and Bennet Bronson have suggested it was an independent temple which may have been occasionally used by the Sam Yup Association. In support of this claim, an 1880 city tax assessment locates the principle Sam Yup joss house at 825 Dupont [#17], proving the district association did not consider the Tin How Temple as its dedicated shrine hall in the early 1880s. Furthermore, in 1868, the Sam Yup Association is recorded as owning buildings on Clay and Sacramento streets, while also renting offices on Commercial Street, but no mention is made of property on Waverly at this time.
The recurring claim that the Tin How Temple was founded in the early 1850s, when the Sam Yup organization was first founded, seems now to be without sound evidence. An 1877 city directory locates the Hip Yee Society temple at 33 Waverly, the same address as Tin How Temple. In the previous year, the city directory located the Hip Yee Society temple at 730 Jackson, an address noted for its temple dedicated to Tianhou [#30]. While more evidence is warranted, It appears the Hip Yee Society was consequential in founding the Tin How Temple in the late 1870s, the same period in which Ho and Bronson find the first explicit mention of a Tin How Temple in extant records. This dating is bolstered by a June 1877 Chronicle article, entitled “A New Joss House,” that speaks of a new temple on Waverly dedicated to the “Daughter of Heaven,” an inexact rendering of the name Tin How. There is currently no clear evidence a Tin How Temple was located on Waverly before 1877. Moreover, up through 1874, the popular birthday celebrations for the goddess Tianhou were held at the Tin How Temple on Mason Street [#X2]. Before burning down in 1874, this temple on Mason appears to have been the most important Chinatown site related to the goddess.
Turning again to the building on Waverly (renumbered 121 from the original 33 before the earthquake) the central icon was always cited as Tin How (Tianhou 天后, the Empress of Heaven; also known as Mazu 媽祖). Isaiah West Taber took several photos of the original two-story building (with additional basement level), including one in approximately the mid-1880s, as did Treu Ergeben Hecht (see below). This building’s facade was commonly used for early twentieth century Chinatown postcards (see here), helping to establish it as a visual icon of pre-1906 Chinatown. No objects belonging to the original shrine hall appear to have survived the 1906 earthquake and fire; I also know of no surviving illustrations or photos of the original altar (although one candidate shows an incense burner inscribed with Temple of Many Saints [liesheng gong 列聖宮] as seen on the signboard above the Tin How Temple doorway, see here [also here]; see false historical identification here). Given the secondary name of the Tin How Temple as the Temple of Many Saints, we may surmise multiple icons were enshrined here, likely including Guanyin, but documentation is sparse as to the content of the shrine halls previous to 1906. The temple was rebuilt on roughly the same footprint of the old building, renumbered now as 125 Waverly.
I.W. Taber, “B 529 Chinese Josh-House, S.F. Cal.” mid-1880s. [source][Note the two-story wood-frame building next door; according to the 1885 Supervisor’s map, this was under construction as a new brick building which we see in later photographs, e.g see #16 below]
Arnold Genthe, “In Front of the Joss House,” 1896–1906. [source][also here & here]
Arnold Genthe, “In Front of the Joss House” from Old Chinatown (1912).
16. Eastern Glory Temple II (Donghua miao 東華廟) & Gee Tuck Society (Zhide tang 至德堂)& Yee Fung Toy Society (Yufengcai tang 余風采堂) 35 Waverly Place / 1887 Sanborn
Adjacent to Tin How Temple, 35 Waverly was rebuilt as a three-story brick structure around 1885. Perhaps just prior, Li Po Tai appears to have moved his temple from St. Louis Alley [#24] to this address. A report in 1882 describing a shrine hall identified the central icon as the Supreme Emperor of the Dark Heavens (Xuantian shangdi) as well as other icons present at Li Po Tai’s older location. After the new building on Waverly was finished, the second floor was occupied by the Gee Tuck Society shine, but was destroyed by sabotage in 1888. Frederic Masters still names the Eastern Glory Temple at 35 Waverly in 1892 as does a Chinese language business directory from the same year. At some point the third floor was used by the Yee Fung Toy Society, who were deeded the building in 1896. Isaiah West Taber photographed 33 and 35 Waverly in the late 1880s (see below), offering the cityscape portrait for sale by 1889.
I. W. Taber, “B2694 Chinatown, S. F. Cal. The Joss Temple” c.1890. [source]
17. Sam Yup Association I (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館) 825 Dupont / 1887 Sanborn
The Sam Yup Association is among the oldest district associations in San Francisco, founded in 1851 as the Canton Company, then operating as Sam Yup starting in 1853. Its close association with the Tin How Temple on Waverly at the turn of the twentieth century may explain why the latter is often cited as being founded in 1851, 1852, or 1853. As noted above [#14], however, the association between these two entities is complex, but it is clear the Sam Yup Association did not found the Tin How Temple in the 1850s. In fact, there is no clear evidence of them operating a temple or shrine hall in San Francisco until the 1880s. In 1868, Sam Yup had a “company house” on Clay Street above Powell in a “dilapidated condition,” but we are not informed if this building had a dedicated shrine hall. We may presume, at the least, it housed a small altar, but was not open to the public like other large district association temples.
By 1876 the Sam Yup Association is linked to an unknown address on Dupont Street and in 1880 a San Francisco city tax assessment lists a Sam Yup Company with joss house at 825 Dupont. The Dupont address is corroborated in the city directory the following year, but unexpectedly adds a “Sum Yup” Company joss house at 730 Jackson Street, possibly in reference to poorly understood Jackson Street temple devoted to Tainhou [#30]. Moreover, in 1883, a Sam Yup temple is noted as being on Waverly, but this is listed separately from a Tin How Temple also on Waverly, suggesting they were distinct entities at the time. The 1887 Sanborn map lists “Club Rooms & Joss Ho.” at 825 Dupont, showing Sam Yup members keep a shrine at that address in the late 1880s. Fundraising efforts in 1899 finally allowed the Sam Yup Association to open their own dedicated public temple the following year at 929 Dupont Street [#25], as can be seen in the 1905 Sanborn map [here].
18. Chee Kong Society (Zhigong tang 致公堂) 69 / 32 Spofford Street / 1887 Sanborn
Often cited as the most wealthy and influential of all Chinese secret societies, the Chee Kong Society occupied a three-story building on Spofford since 1881, moving from 827 Washington Street. In 1886 Harper’s Weekly covered the Chee Kong’s elaborate initiation rituals which took place before a religious altar. The shrine hall is not described in the text and the accompanying sketch may be fictional (see below). After a series of police raids around Chinatown in 1891, newspaper reports claim Chee Kong’s icon, Guandi, was damaged and sought legal restitution from the city. After 1906, the Chee Kong Society rebuilt on the footprint of their old building, complete with new shrine hall.
From Harper’s Weekly, “Chinese Highbinders,” 13 February 1886. [source]
Opened by the early 1880s, the Guanyin Temple was located on the top floor of a three-story brick building on the southwest corner of Spofford Street and Washington Street. The temple is curiously missing form both the 1885 Supervisors’ map and the 1887 Sanborn map. Nevertheless, in 1883, a Guanyin shrine is cited as located on the “contracted upper floor of a small building on Washington.” Frederic Masters, writing in 1892, notes the shrine hall was atop a “dingy staircase” that held a “rudely carved image and grimy vestments.” According to Masters, the space held an assortment of other figures, including the God of Medicine (Huatuo 華佗), the Grand Duke of Peace (Suijing Bo 绥靖伯), and Tsai Tin Tai Shing (Qitian dasheng 齊天大聖, otherwise known as the Monkey King, Sun Wukong 孙悟空).
In a rare find, a brochure seeking funds to restore the temple has survived, dated to 1886 (guangxu 12). It claims, perhaps uncritically, that the temple had existed for more than thirty years at that point. It also notes the space was managed by Li Xiyi 李希意. Isaiah West Taber took a photo looking down Spofford; the temple’s round lanterns can barely be seen at the far end (see below). Additionally, Arnold Genthe took at least one photo showing the exterior signage of this temple between 1896 and 1906 (see below). The temple was not rebuilt after 1906.
Arnold Genthe, “Doorways in Dim Shadows, Chinatown, San Francisco, 1896–1906. [source]
24. Eastern Glory Temple I (Donghua miao 東華廟) St. Louis Alley (previously thought to be rear of 933 Dupont Street) / 1887 Sanborn
Opening in 1871, it appears famed Chinatown physician Li Po Tai (Li Putai 黎普泰) may have started this private temple after barely surviving a gas explosion in 1870. The multi-room temple was on the third floor of a large building on St. Louis Alley, allowing entrance from both Dupont and Jackson streets. (A city directory from 1877 lists the address as 921 1/2 Dupont, which refers to a narrow alley running off Dupont, sometimes also called Nun Kuk Alley). A map of Chinatown compiled by Henry Josiah West in 1873 places a joss house at the 90-degree bend in St. Louis Alley [here]. Until recently, I considered this in error. Yet, this placement is corroborated by an oil painting of St. Louis Alley by Karl Wilhelm Hahn (1829–1887), which depicts a temple doorway on the third story of a building (see below). Rather uncharacteristically, the horizontal Chinese signboard is clearly legible, saying “Eastern Glory Temple.” Even the vertical pillar boards (yinglian 楹聯) appear to match mostly match with known textual records (and a partly obscured photograph). According to the numbering on the 1887 Sanborn map, this doorway is approximately equivalent to 4 or 5 St. Louis Alley, but a report from 1873 clarifies the temple occupied the entirety of the third flood of the building, spanning six rooms and thus multiple ground-floor addresses. The first room, furthest east, was fitted with a small door and led to a reception area while the second room sold ritual supplies. The final four rooms enshrined icons. A larger second doorway, seen in Hahn’s painting, led directly to the main altar.
A series of stereo-photographs taken by Eadweard Muybridge offer clear depictions of the temple interior, including the main altar (see below). The Supreme Ruler of the Somber Heavens (Xuantian shangdi 玄天上帝; also Northern Emperor [Beidi 北帝]) sits in the center. Some contemporary reports seems to conflate this central icon with Buddhist figures. It also appear Li may have moved icons around as one visitor claims in 1876, and another in 1880, that Guandi was the central icon, but this may just be a mis-identification (also see next entry for Yan Wo). The main hall originally enshrined a total of five icons, while other deities were found in adjoining rooms, including a Guanyin figure. One visitor writing in 1890, but describing experiences more than a decade earlier, noted a Chinese liturgy to Guanyin imprinted with her image available for sale. This was likely similar to the printed liturgy seen at Ah Ching’s Tin How Temple [#X2].
By 1880, at least three major Chinatown celebrations centered upon Eastern Glory Temple, including the birthdays of the Northern Emperor (3rd day of 3rd lunar month) and the God of Wealth (16th day of 7th lunar month), as well as the summertime Ghost Festival, suggesting this privately-run temple was a major center of local religious life. Consequently, through the 1870s, Eastern Glory Temple was known as the “boss temple” of Chinatown. At least two engravings were published showing the interior of the main shrine hall with three total altars (see below). Sometime around 1882, Li Po Tai seems to have moved the contents of his Eastern Glory Temple to 35 Waverly [#16], next door to Tin How Temple [#14]. Frederick Masters still notes an Eastern Glory at 35 Waverly in 1892, but does not afford it a description, suggesting it had fallen from previous heights as a major Chinatown attraction.
Karl Wilhelm Hahn, [“Chinatown Alley, Sing Yuen Washing & Ironing”], oil painting, 1885. [source]
Eadweard Muybridge, “Chinese Joss House, Guardian of the Temple,” stereoview, c. 1871.
Eadweard Muybridge, “Chinese Joss House. God of the Earth,” stereoview, c. 1871.
Eadweard Muybridge, “Chinese Joss House, Guardian of the Temple,” stereoview, c. 1871.
Eadweard Muybridge, “Chinese Joss House. Tauist [Daoist] Priest in Full Costume,” stereoview, c. 1871.
Likely illustration of Eastern Glory Temple, Harper’s Weekly, 25 March 1871. [also here]
Likely illustration of Eastern Glory Temple, from Shearer, The Pacific Tourist (1876). [Note the Chinese banners are more legible than the 1871 Harper’s engraving, suggesting this was not a copy, but an independent illustration.]
27. Yan Wo Association (Renhe huiguan 和會館) 5 St. Louis Alley & 933 Dupont Street / 1887 Sanborn
In 1877 it was reported that Yan Wo was the only district association of the major six that did not yet have a temple. Three years later, in 1880, a San Francisco city tax assessment reported the Yan Wo Association had an operating joss house located at 5 St. Louis Alley. In 1883 a Yan Wo temple is noted on St. Louis Alley, corroborating the above claims, but I have found no descriptions of the shrine hall. By 1892, the address of the Yan Wo Association had moved around the block to 933 Dupont Street, where its shrine was outfitted with an icon of Guandi and “fitted up in elegant style.” An oil painting by Karl Wilhelm Hahn of St. Louis Alley, estimated to have been completed in 1885, shows Eastern Glory Temple at 4 or 5 St. Louis Alley [#24]. It remains unknown if Yan Wo shared or occupied the space at Eastern Glory Temple, or if they occupied a different floor of the same building. If the 1876 and 1880 reports citing Guandi as the main icon in Eastern Glory Temple are correct (see previous entry), this may indicate a change of stewardship to Yan Wo, but this remains uncorroborated. The 1887 Sanborn map likely shows the Yan Wo temple at its new location in the rear of the 933 Dupont building.
28. St. George Temple 731 Jackson Street
The 1875 Bishop San Francisco City Directory contains a curious entry: St. George Joss House, 731 Jackson [source]. It is listed again in the 1876 edition [source], but is gone by the following year. Nothing is known about this temple. It is not clear why the Christian martyr, St. George, famed for his defeat of a villainous dragon, is adopted as the name of a Chinese temple, but Frederick Masters provides a clue. In his survey of Chinatown temples in 1892, Masters describes Guandi as the “Saint George of Far Cathy,” drawing attention to the militaristic aspects of both figures. The St. George Joss House may have been one of many Chinese temples devoted to the semi-historical figure Guandi.
29. Bing Kong Society II (binggong tang 秉公堂) 740 Jackson / 1887 Sanborn
After a series of violent altercations with the Chee Kong Society, the group from which the Bing Kong Society originally split, city police decided to raid all Chinese secret society headquarters just before Chinese New year in 1891. The Bing Kong were ransacked first while still on Washington [#21], as “joss and idols fell with a crash” [source]. In autumn the following year, the society fashioned an old store at 740 Jackson into a shrine hall to celebrate their ancestors; the local news covered the event and incorporated a small illustration (see below). Important festivals of this period, categorically glossed as dajiao 打醮 by Chuimei Ho and Bennet Bronson, had giant wood-framed paper statues of deities placed at the temple entrance. These were burned at the end of celebrations. (For comparison, I’ve also included a painting by Theodore Wores showing similar figures at an unidentified Chinatown temple, the original painting was likely destroyed in the 1906 earthquake and fire; further figures are seen here & here). Since many non-Chinese visitors came during big festivals, some reports mistakenly believe these giant images are permanent features of the temple. Eventually, the Bing Kong Society would establish a shrine hall at 34 Waverly Place by the late 1890s [#13].
From “Treating the Ghosts,” Los Angeles Herald, 23 October 1892. [source] [NB: Although the caption labels this illustration as the “shrine,” this is the front entrance off the street.]
From H.B. McDowell, “New Light on the Chinese,” Harper’s Monthly Magazine, December 1892.
30. Jackson Street Temple 730 Jackson Street [?] / 1887 Sanborn
One temple on Jackson Street, often noted as located between Dupont Street and Stockton Street remains obscure. In 1876 this location is described as displaying a central icon of Tianhou (Mazu), a claim that is repeated in 1880 and 1882 (although this latter author visited Chinatown in the summer of 1878). In 1883, a temple on “Jackson Street near Stockton” is named as Eastern Glory Temple, but this could be a mistake for the location of Li Po Tai’s old location on St. Louis Alley [#24], sometimes also cited as being off Jackson. To add further confusion, Li possibly owned the building at 730 Jackson [source] and probably moved his temple to 35 Waverly by 1882 [#16], but construction at this Waverly address may have caused his temporary relocation in the mid-1880s. The 1881 city directory lists a “Sum Yup” joss house at 730 Jackson Street, which likely refers to the Sam Yup Association later connected with the Tin How Temple on Waverly [#14]. Previously, the Hip Yee Society was also reported as having a temple at 730 Jackson in 1877. Notably, the following year, the Hip Yee Society listed their temple at 33 Waverly, the location of the famed Tin How Temple and a building they ultimately acquired in 1891 [#14].
The relationship between the Tianhou temples on Jackson and Waverly remains unknown, but the Hip Yee Society may have played a role. Notably, in a work published in 1880, Chinatown’s birthday celebrations for Tianhou (23rd day of the 3rd lunar month) are noted to take place at the Jackson Street temple, suggesting this was the most important temple to the goddess at the time (previously, in 1873, celebrations wer held at Ah Ching’s Tianhou temple on Mason [#X2]). The growth in the popularity of the Waverly temple seems to be directly related to the disappearance of the Tianhou temple on Jackson.
In 1885, it appears the Yeong Wo utilized this space temporarily before moving to their new building at 730 Sacramento [#6], possibly accounting for why the 1885 Supervisors’ map indicates a joss house on Jackson, but the 1887 Sanborn map does not. Frederick Masters does not mention a Tianhou temple, or any other shrine hall, on Jackson in his thorough survey of Chinatown temples in 1892.
34. Ning Yung Association I (Ningyang huiguan 寧陽會館) 517 Broadway Street / 1887 Sanborn
The first Ning Yung temple occupied the top floor of an impressive two-story brick building on Broadway just below Montgomery Avenue. The organization was founded in 1853 when it broke away from the Sze Yap Association, but Ning Yung members did not open their own dedicated temple until 1864. The shrine hall was consecrated to local media fanfare and was used until 1891 when the association moved to Waverly [#8]. The central icon was a life-size Guandi, described by an early-career Mark Twain as “excessively fat” with a “rotund face…painted excessively red” [source]. The original shrine hall was large with eighteen-foot ceilings and filled with ornate carvings, inscribed plaques, and ritual implements. This temple was an early tourist favorite on the northern fringes of Chinatown, despite being located in the vice-ridden area then called Barbary Coast. After the privately owned Eastern Glory Temple opened in 1871 [#24], tourist traffic tended to be redirected there by guidebooks. The move of the Ning Yung Association to Waverly in the ealry 1890s relocated its temple into the heart of Chinatown.
Anonymous, “Chinese Temple, Broadway, San Francisco”, Illustrated San Francisco News. [source]
From William Speer’s The Oldest and the Newest Empire: China and the United States (1870).
From “The Coming Man,” Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, 1870 June 25 [source]
[Showing the rear of the building] From Mrs. Frank Leslie, California: A Pleasure Trip (1877).
From L’illustration: journal universel, “Culte bouddhiste des Chinois à San-Francisco,” 15 November 1856.
Anonymous, “Interior of a Chinese Temple, Broadway, San Francisco”, Illustrated San Francisco News. [source]
From William Speer’s The Oldest and the Newest Empire: China and the United States (1870).
X1. Sze Yup Association (Siba huiguan 四邑會館) / Kong Chow Association (Gangzhou huiguan 岡州會館) 512 Pine Street / 1887 Sanborn
The Pine Street temple was first constructed by the Sze Yup Association in 1853, but the central icon of Guandi did not arrive from China until 1856. A multi-day celebration was held to consecrate the shrine hall on the second floor. It is commonly claimed the Sze Yup (alternatively, “Sze Yap”) temple was the first Buddhist temple in the United States, but this is without warrant. The sole icon enshrined was Guandi, as was common in district association temples, and no images of the Buddha or any other Buddhist figure were installed. Guandi was mainly revered as a patron of loyalty, integrity, and fraternity, all values central to district association members who lived far from their homeland. Moreover, contemporary reports note the 1856 consecration used meat and alcohol offerings, items used widely in Chinese popular religion, but not sanctioned by conventional Chinese Buddhist practice.
If any members of the Sze Yup Association sought a more appropriate religious setting with Buddhist icons (bracketing the thorny issue of Chinese religious affiliation in the modern period), they would have gone to private temples that housed a wider variety of deities, including popular figures like Guanyin. Indeed, it was possibly the lack of certain deities in district association temples that motivated the growth of private temples, such as Ah Ching’s Tin How Temple [#X2], opening as early as 1856, and Li Po Tai’s Eastern Glory Temple [#24], opening in 1871 – both of which enshrined Guanyin in special rooms. After the dissolution of the Sze Yup Association, as Chuimei Ho and Bennet Bronson have shown, all of its property was legally deeded to the Kong Chow Association, one of the splinter groups of the Sze Yup, in the mid-1860s. Despite the construction of new temples by other district associations over the years, the Kong Chow temple remained a special place of reverence for those devoted to Guandi. In both 1873 and 1880, and undoubtedly most other years as well, Guandi’s birthday celebrations (13th day of 5th lunar month) were held on Kong Chow temple grounds, a point underscored by Masters in 1892 who claimed the temple was viewed as particularly “efficacious.” The Kong Chow Association remained on Pine through 1906 and, unlike its sister organizations, was one of the few to rebuild its shrine hall after the San Francisco earthquake.
From A.W. Loomis’ “The Heathen at Our Doors” (1870).
Anonymous, [Street Entrance to Passageway to Kong Chow Temple], c. 1880s. [source]
[Rebuilt Shrine Hall] From “A Bit of New Chinatown,” Wasp, 20 December 1913. [source]
X2. Ah Ching’s Tin How Temple Corner of Post Street & Mason Street
As reported in 1868, the merchant Ah Ching opened what might have been the first private temple in San Francisco, located just west of Union Square on Mason Street near Post Street. The main icon was Tianhou, located on the first floor, but additional icons were soon added, including the standard fixtures of the Earth God (Tudi shen), God of Medicine (Huatuo), God of Wealth (Cai shen), and Guandi. This report is also the first account of Golden Flower (Jinhua), a figure that would come to have her own temple by the late 1880s [#2]. On the second floor a singular icon of Guanyin was enshrined, making this the first attested appearance of this vaunted Buddhist figure on American soil. At least by 1868, a short liturgy to Guanyin, printed on yellow paper and bearing her image holding a willow branch and vase, was distributed to devout temple visitors. It is unknown when An Ching’s temple opened, but Ho and Bronson speculate it could have been as early as 1856. In 1873 and 1874, Chinatown’s three-day birthday celebrations for Tianhou are noted as taking place at this temple, suggesting it was a central meeting place for Chinese immigrants. At least one newspaper report claims this temple was, “the resort of itinerant wash-house men and household servants,” contrasting it to the more upscale district association temples, such as the Sze Yup temple on Pine [#X1]. By 1868, Ah Ching had already died and the temple was in the hands of a former temple servant. The temple succumbed to fire in 1874 and was not rebuilt.
Other Shrines in San Francisco’s Chinatown
The 1885 Supervisors’ map indicates a total of thirteen joss houses in Chinatown, a rough number that is often repeated in contemporary San Francisco guidebooks. This is certainly a steep under-reporting if we were to include all types of religious shrines. Many smaller temples and private shrines undoubtedly went unnoticed to outsiders traversing and mapping Chinatown’s streets. For example, we know there were also guilds for carpenters, tailors, and cigar makers, among others, and all likely had their own meeting halls with altars to their guild deities, but we know nothing of their whereabouts. Notably, according to Frederic Masters, Chinatown theaters had a shrine to Lord Tam [see #3] and Huaguang 華光, always in an alcove about ten feet above the main stage. Surviving photographs show this shrine alcove in both the New Chinese Theater, at 623 Jackson [#26], run by the Sam Yup Association, and the Grand Chinese Theater at 814 Washington [#23] (Isaiah West Taber’s studio misidentifies the latter as the former, see discussion here). At times, during important celebrations, a temple’s icon might be paraded down the streets and taken to the Chinese opera. Such an event happened in the early 1880s (the recounting was published in 1883) when Guanyin’s icon on Spofford was taken to the Grand Chinese Theater at the north end of Waverly during her birthday celebrations (19th day of 2nd lunar month), and provided performances until early the next morning. This too occurred in 1884 for Yeong Wo’s Houwang icon during his birthday festivities (7th day of 8th lunar month).
[New Chinese Theater] Anonymous, “New Chinese Theater on Jackson,” c.1880s [source]
[Grand Chinese Theater] I.W. Taber, “4224 Interior of Chinese Theatre, Jackson Street, San Francisco, Cal.” 1880s [source][photo discussion here][see also here]
Outside of the overlooked clan, guild, and secret society shrines, there were also endless smaller private shrines, either displaying small statues, painted scrolls, or inscribed tablets. One observer, describing the Chinese in Santa Cruz, noted that, “nearly every store has a small space dedicated to the Joss with incense punks and food before printed papers representing a Joss” [source]. We have some specific reports about this scenario in San Francisco. For example, writing in 1880, G.B. Densmore notes spotting a joss in the rear room at Tune Fong [Yuen Fong] Restaurant at 710 Jackson Street [#31]. A scene reminiscent of this was painted by Theodore Wores, a native of San Francisco who created beautiful imagery of Chinatown in the mid-1880s. His “Chinese Musicians” portrays a restaurant (or society club room) environment with a small altar along the right side, ready with incense burner. The image on the scroll appears to be Fuxing 福星, a stellar deity associated with good fortune (also seen here with merchants posing in front). A reproduction of Wores’ painting in Harper’s Monthly Magazine in 1892 adds trails of incense smoke to enliven the shrine space. Among the many nineteenth century photographs of Chinatown restaurant interiors it is sometimes possible to spot a small altar in the back, often with offering vessels placed in front of a scroll. For example, photographer Carlton Watkins captured the interior of the famed restaurant Hang Far Low Restaurant at 713 Dupont Street in the early 1880s [#7]. If we look to the left side of the smoking divan we can clearly see the altar to Guandi with a full five-piece altar set (see below).(Other small altars might be visible here, here, & here.)
From H.B. McDowell, “New Light on the Chinese,” Harper’s Monthly Magazine, December 1892.
Carlton Watkins, “Smoking Divan Chinese Restaurant,” 1880s. [source]
Elsewhere in his account, Densmore highlights the importance of Guandi, noting, “in nearly every house or store they have a picture of this god.” Historian Thomas Chinn has also written about the ubiquity of altars in stores throughout San Francisco’s Chinatown:
“In the back of nearly every shop in Chinatown there used to be an altar, before which the most venerable or senior member of the firm would offer incense every morning and before dinner. The altar was always a simple one, dedicated either to the Earth God (tudi shen) or to the God of Prosperity (cai shen), represented by a written inscription. In front of the altar would be an incense urn, candlesticks, and three cups of tea. On important occasions there would also be three thimbles of wine, flowers, fruit, and other food. Most of the altars disappeared after 1911.” [source]
There were also innumerable domestic shrines of varying size. Wealthy individuals could afford a large carved altar with full set of five ritual vessels and an ornately painted “joss” scroll. We find an example of such in a wood engraving published in 1875 by Harper’s Weekly. A very similar household shrine is seen in the photography of R. J. Waters who operated a studio in San Francisco around 1900 (see both below).
From Harper’s Weekly, “Sketches in Chinatown, San Francisco,” 22 May 1875 [source][compare here]
R.J. Waters, “280 Joss Private Shrine,” c. 1900 [source]
But what do we know about the simplest of household shrines? Not long after Waters’ photograph, San Francisco’s Board of Health blamed Chinatown’s residents for fears of a potential outbreak of the plague. This led to razing of several buildings in 1903. Documentary photographs taken at the time show some of the poorest areas of the neighborhood where structures were removed. One photograph proves that even the simplest of Chinatown’s abodes still maintained a small shrine, made from an altar of stacked bricks (see below). Its notable that all three domestic shrines depicted here display the same trio of icons: Guandi flanked by his adoptive son, Guan Ping 關平, and his subordinate general, Zhou Cang 周倉. These three figures appear in the Ming novel Romance of the Three Kingdoms, a source for the development of much popular religious lore in the following centuries.
R.J. Waters, “Interior of living quarters to be demolished,” 1903. [source][also here]
It is unknown how many altars, shines, and icons were destroyed by the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and fire, but a reasonable response would be in the many thousands. This is far beyond the dozen or so joss houses mapped by various authorities at the end of the nineteenth century. We also know of some stories of survival. At least one delicately carved wooden alcove, possibly originally containing a icon of Water Moon Guanyin, was recovered by the Hee family as they fled the oncoming fires [here]. This remains material evidence of the importance of the cult of Guanyin in San Francisco’s Chinatown at the turn of the twentieth century. Such evidence helps corroborate the observations of one visitor, writing in 1883, who noted the popularity of Guanyin among the residents of Chinatown, claiming, “her image or portrait occupies a prominent corner of every private home as well as temple.”
About this Project
Many nineteenth and early twentieth photographs and illustrations of Chinese American religious sites remain unidentified because they are often labeled or captioned as generic “joss houses.” To facilitate identification, I’ve compared contemporary written accounts with objects from the visual record of Chinatown, cross referencing them with maps and listed addresses of known temples. The end product was the identification of several images of unknown religious sites and the location of several temples of which we only had a written description. I’m publishing my working notes here for a basic map of the Chinatown temples I’ve identified. I have used the 1887 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map as the basis for the main map in consultation with the 1885 San Francisco’s Board of Supervisors’ Map and the 1905 Sanborn Fire Insurance Map to help track changes over time (see resources below). Ultimately, this is the byproduct of a larger project I am currently working on regarding the material culture of early Asian American religions with a focus on early American Buddhist traditions.
I welcome any questions or comments: peter.romaskiewicz[at]gmail.com.
Referenced Print Resources:
Chinn, Thomas W. 1989. Bridging the Pacific: San Francisco Chinatown and Its People. San Francisco: Chinese Historical Society of America. [Internet Archive]
Densmore, G. B. 1880. The Chinese in California: Description of Chinese Life in San Francisco. Their Habits, Morals, and Manners. San Francisco: Pettit & Russ. [source]
Ho, Chuimei, and Bennet Bronson. 2022. Chinese Traditional Religion and Temple in North America, 1849–1920: California. Seattle: Chinese in Northwest America Research Committee.
Masters, Frederic J. 1892. “Pagan Temples in San Francisco.” Californian Illustrated Magazine, November: 727–741.
Masters, Frederic J. 1895. “The Chinese Drama.” The Chautauquan 21 (4): 432–42.
Online Resources:
Chinese in Northwest America Research Committee [This group published an initial map of Chinatown organizations in 2018 (here). I owe the initial impetus of creating a temple map to the outstanding editors of this website.]
Capturing light on a photosensitive medium to make a photograph was a monumental technological achievement. Arguably more influential, however, was the ability to mechanically reproduce those images in ink and expose them to wider audiences. In the latter half of the nineteenth century, chemically processing individual photographs was technically difficult, time-consuming, and expensive. Newspaper, magazine, and book publishers needed a less labor-intensive method to produce the thousands of images needed for mass commercial printing.
Consequently, translating the tonality of a photograph mechanically into black ink marks was developed not long after the discovery of photography. The collotype process, a planographic printing method using reticulated gelatin, produced a beautiful tonality with fine detail, but the process proved difficult and costly. On the other hand, the letterpress halftone process proved to a better investment for the inexpensive mass printing of images, especially for newspapers and magazines. This process is easily identified through its distinctive dot pattern creating the illusion of tonality [Fig. 1].
Figure 1
The tonality of the halftone print on the left, comprised of dots of differing size and spacing, is of lesser quality than the collotype print on the right. The wormy reticulation of a collotype print under high magnification can be seen here.
Ogawa Kazumasa小川 一眞 (1860-1929) was a pioneer in the photomechanical reproduction of images in Meiji Japan. After a period of apprenticeship in the United States, Ogawa opened the first collotype (korotaipu コロタイプ) business for reproducing photographs in 1889, eventually introducing the halftone process to his Japanese customers. Having attended the Congress of Photographers at the Chicago World’s Fair in 1893, Ogawa learned about the halftone process and the following year procured the necessary equipment and had delivered to Tokyo.[1] As Kelly McCormick notes, under the guidance of Ogawa the Japanese newspaper, the Asahi Shimbun朝日新聞, published its first photographs on June 16, 1894. Moreover, the halftone process allowed Japanese newspapers to fill their editions with multiple, full-page photographic images as well as incorporate text on the same plate. Additionally, to help expose his colleagues to the history of photography and modern photographic methods, Ogawa had Hermann Vogel’sThe Chemistry of Light and Photography (1875, revised 1889) translated into Japanese (as Kōsen nami shashin kagaku 光線並写真化学); it remained in print for nearly 30 years.
The tonality of the halftone print was not as rich as the collotype (see above) and thus the collotype print remained preferential when image quality was more important.[2] This included the manufacturing of Japanese picture postcards (ehagaki 絵葉書), especially when changes in the postal code in 1900 allowed private publishers to issue their own cards. Collotype remained the main method of printing postcards through the first two decades of the twentieth century.
Figure 2
Title/Caption: DAIBUTSU, KAMAKURA 鎌倉大仏
Year: 1897 (postally used)
Publisher: Printing Bureau, Ministry of Finance 大蔵省印刷局
Medium: halftone print on paper
Dimensions: 5.5 in X 3.5 in
Reverse Imprint: 大日本郵便, JAPANESE POST, 郵便はがき+
The government-issued postal card here, however, offers a rare glimpse at using the halftone process for mechanically reproducing a photograph previous to postal code changes [Fig. 2]. Sent in 1897 (Meiji 30[3]), this card reflects a rather early example of the halftone process, introduced by Ogawa only three years earlier. As noted by the caption, it depicts the Kamakura Daibutsu, a site that had developed into a popular international tourist destination by the 1890s. Interestingly, the image shows the site devoid of tourists, a rare depiction since people were often included to provide a sense of scale – the statue is over 40 feet in height. This photograph focuses the viewer’s attention to the craftsmanship of the work and the serenity of the image, thus creating a silent and contemplative portrait of the bronze colossus. The elements in the photograph suggest it was taken in the first half of the 1890s.
It is tantalizing to think that the Printing Bureau in the Ministry of Finance[4], the agency responsible for issuing postal cards, consulted Ogawa for this project.[5] It is also possible that the original photograph of the Daibutsu was taken by Ogawa or an associate of his studio.[6]
Figure 3
Figure 4
The reverse bears a simple filigree border and 1 sen oval-shaped frank printed in light blue [Fig. 3]. The pre-paid 1 sen rate covered domestic postage until 1899 when the rate was increased. The franking design incorporated the three-leafed paulownia seal (kirimon 桐紋), the official insignia of the Japanese government, in its center [Fig. 4]. Examining the border design (bottom) we can also find the government agency responsible for printing the card, namely the Printing Bureau in the Ministry of Finance. Instructions in Japanese (lower left) explain this side is reserved for the name and address of the recipient only. The paper is thinner than the card stock used by private publishers a few years later.
The cancellation stamp over the pre-paid postage reveals the card was sent on August 11, 1897 from the former Musashi Province 武蔵, an area that covered a location close to the Kamakura Daibutsu. The second cancellation stamp shows it was received the following day, August 12, at the post office in Kobe before it was sent out to the recipient.
*This post is dedicated to my mother, who introduced me to the beauty of printmaking.
**This is part of a series of posts devoted to exploring the development of a visual literacy for Buddhist imagery in America. All items (except otherwise noted) are part of my personal collection of Buddhist-themed ephemera.
Notes:
[1] For more information, see McCormick 2017. For a full biography of Ogawa in English, see Bennett 2006: 210-16. [For a quick chronology of his life, in Japanese, see here.]
[2] Perhaps most notably, the influential Japanese art magazine, Kokka 国華, employed collotypes and woodblock prints. Ogawa and his studio supervised the printing of the magazine until 1907. The magazine’s full title in English was Kokka, An Illustrated Monthly Journal of the Fine and Applied Arts of Japan and Other Eastern Countries. For more on this publication, see Hanley & Watanabe 2019. Ogawa also used collotypes in the Shashin Shinpō写真新報 (Photography Journal), in which he was the editor, see Bennett 2006: 212. In the 1910s, Japanese postcard publishers switched to offset printing because this method produced images at a much faster rate.
[3] The cancellation stamp is not clear, but Meiji 30 seems appropriate. The bisected cancellation date stamp (maruichi-gata hiduke-in 丸一型日付印) was adopted in 1888 and the date reads year-month-day from right to left (this stamp was retired in 1909). Sanjū nen 三十年 (“year 30”) is barely legible and is equivalent to 1897. This dating also aligns with other evidence placing the cancellation between 1888 (signaling by the inclusion of the Printing Bureau 印刷局 instead of the Bureau of Paper Currency 紙幣寮 on the border inscription) and 1899, when the 1 sen oval frank was replaced by the 1½ sen chrysanthemum frank. These details are noted below.
[4] The full inscription reads, “issued by the Printing Bureau in the Ministry of Finance of the Empire of Japan” (Dainipponteikoku seifu Ōkurashō insatsu-kyoku seizō 大日本帝国政府大蔵省印刷局製造). The Ministry of Finance was also responsible for printing paper currency.
[5] Ogawa did have a close relationship with the Japanese government, and was appointed as the chief photography instructor for the Japanese army, see McCormick 2017. Furthermore, McCormick notes, “Ogawa skillfully aligned his name with the halftone process to the extent that if it was a halftone, it was likely that Ogawa was behind it.”
[6] In 1894, Ogawa published the Illustrated Companion to Murray’s Japan Guide-Book, the most popular tourist book for international travel in Japan. I have not seen a copy of this work, but the second image in the book is listed as the Kamakura Daibutsu.
Hanley, Keith & Watanabe, Aiko. 2019. “Kokka, Okakura Kakuzō, and the Aesthetic Construction of Late Meiji Cultural Nationalism.” Unpublished paper. [here]
McCormick, Kelly M. 2017. “Ogawa Kazumasa and the Halftone Photograph: Japanese War Albums at the Turn of the Twentieth Century,” Technologies, Vol. 7, No. 2. [here]
Additional Posts in Visual Literacy of Buddhism Series
The modern Japanese word for postcard, hagaki はがき, is derived from hashigaki はしがき (or 端書き), a reference to writing placed at the beginning or end of a document. During the early Meiji period (1868–1912), hagaki came to denote a brief letter or a note that was sent through the mail as a postcard.[1] The first postal card in Japan was issued in December 1873, just four years after this novel postal stationary was introduced in Austro-Hungarian Empire. Until the beginning of the twentieth century all Japanese postal cards were government issued (kansei 官製). Moreover, the vast majority were printed without images on the obverse since the non-address side was reserved for the written message. These plain cards are further identifiable through pre-paid franking printed on the address side (reverse) of the card. Changes in Japanese postal codes on October 1, 1900 afforded private companies the opportunity to publish picture postcards (ehagaki 絵葉書) where an illustration or design could be printed on the obverse. These changes altered the landscape of the postcard market and soon started a new cultural phenomenon known as the Japanese “postcard boom.”[2]
Figure 1
The state issued postal card shown here, postally canceled in 1897 (Meiji 30),[3] unconventionally bears a multi-color woodblock print on the obverse. It depicts the Kamakura Daibutsu colored with washes of ink [Fig. 1]. Notably, the image is offset to allow space for the written message; it would not be until 1907 that a message could be written on the reverse. Domestic illustrated postal cards from this period – that is, before the ban on privately printed cards was lifted in 1900 – are relatively uncommon and their origins are poorly understood.[4] Exemplars such as this suggest the state Printing Bureau (insatsu-kyoku 印刷局), the agency responsible for printing banknotes, stamps, and postal cards, may have been playing with designs before the postal code changes in 1900 or, alternatively, were ambivalent towards private companies who added illustrations to government cards and resold them to the public.[5]
For example, in addition to the circulation of illustrated New Year’s cards (nengajō 年賀状) in the 1890s, some government issued cards (as identified through the imprinted franking on the reverse) depict photographs of landscapes and a variety of scenes from daily Japanese life.[6] It is clear that some of these images draw heavily upon photographic genres, compositions, and conventions that developed under the Japanese foreign tourism and souvenir industry of the 1870s and 1880s.[7] More specifically, some state-issued postal card images can be traced to known Japanese photography studios that catered to both domestic and foreign clientele through the last decade of the nineteenth century.[8]
It remains unknown whether early picture postal cards were printed under the formal auspices of the Printing Bureau (to my knowledge, there is no documentation supporting such a view), or if Japanese photography studios privately issued or commissioned photomechanically printed cards on the “base” of state-issued cards, or if printing houses purchased copyrights of photographs and issued cards themselves (again, on a state-issued card “base”).[9] Current evidence gives most weight to the latter possibility. We know, for example, Ueda Yoshizō 上田義三 (1865–?), opened a collotype printing house in Yokohama in 1897 and is reported to have printed landscapes and images of people on state-issued cards.[10] The role of the Printing Bureau and other state agencies remains undetermined in such a business, but we may surmise these entrepreneurial activities helped encourage the postal regulation changes in 1900. Ueda would directly benefit from this change and became the one of the largest private postcard publishers in Yokohama through the early 1910s.
The postal card under consideration here is reminiscent of similar period photographs taken of the Daibutsu statue head-on. The unknown artist depicted a realistic scene with two Japanese travelers gazing upwards at the colossal image. It casts a gentle sign of reverence towards the Buddhist image without culturally reductionistic signs of deep religious piety as was sometimes choreographed by Western photographers. The overall scene is calm and peaceful, reflecting the beneficent gaze of the Daibutsu.
With the exception of the steeply banking hillside and tall flight of steps leading to the top landing, the illustration depicts the location faithfully as it was known in the 1880s, inclusive of the step ladder to help visitors climb atop the statue. Similar photographs were sold by the studios of Kusakabe Kimbei 日下部金兵衛 (1841–1934) and Tamamura Kōzaburō 玉村康三郎 (1856–1923?), both highly accomplished commercial photographers whose stock may have been the models upon which the unknown artist based this design.[11] The Daibutsu grounds were modified by the winter of 1890, thus while this postcard was probably printed in the latter half of the 1890s, it is likely based on a photograph taken a decade earlier.
The only curious element in the depiction of the statue is the inclusion of earrings, a detail often reserved for other Buddhist deities, but not for buddhas. In contrast, the original bronze work has long, pierced ear-lobes which one might easily confuse for earrings, especially from frontal photographs.[12]
Figures 2 & 3
In further examining the card we can infer it is a woodblock print. First, this is discernible through the telltale signs of “ink squash” along the margins of the color washes. This occurs when the pressure of printing forces ink to spill over the cut edge of the woodblock, creating a darker ink line [Fig. 2]. Moreover, we can observe partial embossing of the obverse image on the reverse of the print. The pressure of the print, most noticeable here with the trees on hillside, causes the paper to deform around the woodblock cuts [Fig. 3]. (Both figures show an unused version of the same postcard where these details are easier to see.)
Figure 4
The reverse bears a rectangular filigree border and 1 sen oval-shaped frank printed in light blue [Fig. 4]. We may presume this card was intended for domestic use since international mail required higher 2 sen or 3 sen rates.[13] Additional postage could be affixed, however, to make up for the difference. There are other indications this card was produced with an international or cosmopolitan audience in mind. If we look back at the caption under the obverse illustration we see “Daibutsu, Kamakura.” While this uses Japanese terminology (Daibutsu means “Great Buddha”), it nevertheless employs the foreign Roman alphabet, not native kanji characters or the kana syllabary, such as we see on the reverse.
The franking design here incorporates the three-leafed paulownia seal (kirimon 桐紋), the official insignia of the Japanese government, in its center. Examining the border design we can also find the government agency responsible for printing the card, namely the Printing Bureau in the Ministry of Finance.[14] Instructions in Japanese explain this side is reserved for the name and address of the recipient only. The paper is thinner than the sturdier stock customarily used by private publishers a few years later. Not only was the paper more durable, it was also a better surface for the increasingly fashionable fountain pen, a Western implement that started to replace the traditional writing brush, especially for composing postcard messages.[15]
*This is part of a series of posts devoted to exploring the development of a visual literacy for Buddhist imagery in America. All items (except otherwise noted) are part of my personal collection of Buddhist-themed ephemera.
Notes:
[1] Scholars of postal history often distinguish between “postal cards” which are imprinted with prepaid franking (an imprinted stamp) and “postcards” which are privately issued and require the addition of an adhesive stamp. The Japanese term hagaki came to signify both state issued postal cards and privately issued postcards.
[2] For an English language introduction to the early history of Japanese picture postcards, see Satō 2002 and Morse 2004.
[3] The cancellation stamp is heavily degraded, but Meiji 30 seems appropriate. The bisected cancellation date stamp (maruichi gata hitsukein 丸一型日付印) was nationally adopted in 1888 and the date reads year-month-day from right to left below the dividing line. Sanjū nen 卅十年 (Year 30) is barely legible and is equivalent to 1897. This dating also aligns with other evidence placing the cancellation between 1878 (signaled by the inclusion of the Printing Bureau instead of the Bureau of Banknotes on the reverse border inscription) and April 1899, when the postage rate for postal cards increased from 1 sen to 1½ sen (additional postage would have been affixed to the card if mailed after the rate increase). In addition, the Printing Bureau changed the design of the oval frank postal card to a chrysanthemum frank in December 1898, thus the printing of this postal card – not necessarily its mailing – must predate this period.
[4] Traditional Japanese deltiological lore holds that the first privately issued picture postcard was designed by Ishii Kendō 石井研堂 and appended to the October 5th issue of the boy’s magazine Kinsei Shonen 今世少年, just four days after the new postal regulations. This story was first reported in Ishii’s own 1908 work, Origin ofMeiji Things明治事物起源, where he proclaims himself to be the inaugural producer of private picture postcards. Most postal historians will point out that Ishii’s claims do not preclude the earlier existence of state issued cards bearing pictures, see for example Saitō 1999: 336. Nevertheless, Ishii’s own claims deserve further scrutiny. For example, in 2020, a privately issued picture postcard cancelled on October 1, 1900 came into the hands of collector Takao Hitoshi 高尾均, hinting the printing history of picture postcards is not as straightforward as traditional lore suggests.
[5] Postal cards had long been adorned with hand drawn illustrations prepared by the sender, now typically categorized as etegami 絵手紙, “hand drawn missives.” These were clear predecessors to the mass scale printing of picture postcards. In addition, many Japanese were previously familiar with picture postcards through European or American cards collected overseas or sent through international mail, see comments in Mōri 2013: 32.
[6] As noted in Kim 2011: 173. Such postal cards are can be categorized as landscapes (fūkei 風景) and customs (fūzoku 風俗). These are continuations of the two most important genres of Meiji-era export tourist photography, see Tucker 2003: 7–8.
[7] For discussion of early commercial photography in Japan, see Dobson 2004 and Wakita 2013.
[8] This personal observation is based on seeing several illustrated state-issue cards for sale on the secondary market. For example, I have seen postal cards depicting a photograph of geisha playing the shamisen and koto as well as a lakefront vista of the old Grand Hotel in Yokohama (destroyed during the 1923 earthquake). Both of these images were reproductions of photographs found in albums sold by Yokohama photographer Kusakabe Kimbei, catalogued as “371. Girls Playing on Samisen and Koto,” and “505. Grand Hotel, Yokohama”; for these catalogue number attributions, see Bennett 2006: 137. I saw the former photograph, with identifying caption, in a private collection while the latter, also with identifying caption, is held by the Syracuse University Art Museum (Object number 1986.510). Notably, the postal cards were printed with 4 sen franking, revealing they were intended for international mail.
[9] It should be noted that Meiji-era Japan had weak copyright regulations for photographs and pirating was fairly common, see Bennett 1996: 85–87.
[10] Saitō 1999: 336. Mid-to-late Meiji business documents from the many postcard sellers of the time have yet to be uncovered. As noted by Saitō Takio, a very large Yokohama postcard exhibit was held in 1985 in the hopes that descendants of these sellers would come forward with old business documentation or family anecdotes, but nothing of the sort occurred, see Saitō 1986.
[11] Relevant photographs would be Kusakabe Kimbei’s print sometimes labeled as “1020,” with an exemplar held by the Nagasaki University Library (Catalogue No. 4673), and Tamamura Kōzaburō’s print captioned “No. 535 Daibutsu at Kamakura,” with an exemplar held by Museé Guimet (AP15903).
[12] According to Buddhist lore, as a sign of his renunciation of princely life, the Buddha removed his earrings, thus leaving his pierced earlobes empty.
[13] International postal cards, issued between June 1879 and December 1898, were printed with 2 sen or 3 sen franking depending on destination, see EGASHIRA 2018: 2. The 1 sen rate covered domestic postage until April 1899 when the rate was increased.
[14] The full inscription reads, “issued by the Printing Bureau in the Ministry of Finance of the Empire of Japan” (Dainippon teikoku seifu Ōkurashō insatsu-kyoku seizō 大日本帝国政府大蔵省印刷局製造). The Printing Bureau in the Ministry of Finance was also responsible for printing paper currency.
[15] For comments on the relationship between postcards and fountain pens, see Satō 2002: 49.
Sources:
Bennett, Terry. 2006. Old Japanese Photographs Collectors’ Data Guide. London: Bernard Quaritch Ltd.
Dobson, Sebastian. 2004. “Yokohama Shashin.” In Art & Artifice: Japanese Photographs of the Meiji Era, by Sebastian Dobson, Anne Nishimura Morse, and Frederic A. Sharf, 15–40. Boston: MFA Publications.
KIM Kyounghwa 金暻和. 2011. “‘Bungaku to shite no hagaki’: Nichirosensō-ki no “hagaki bungaku” o jirei ni shita media-ron no kokoromi”「文学としての葉書」: 日露戦争期の『ハガキ文學』を事例にした メディア論の試み. Masu komyunikēshon kenkyū マス・コミュニケーション研究 78: 169–88.
The September 1, 1923 Great Kantō Earthquake changed Japan. Striking at just before noon, the 7.9 magnitude earthquake razed the capital of Tokyo and the port of Yokohama and caused severe destruction around the entire Kantō region. The resulting fire and tsunami triggered by the earthquake claimed many more casualties. The resulting reconstruction efforts, involving the rebuilding of homes, government buildings, factories, shops, roads, canals, and bridges was a monumental effort. After seven years of toil, the rebirth of the capital and the symbolic renewal of Japan was marked by a week-long series of celebratory events held in March 1930.
Among the many structures decimated by the disaster also included historic temples and shrines, several of which were in Kamakura, part of what is now considered the Greater Tokyo Area. The ancient capital of Kamakura, after which the Kamakura Period (1185-1333) is named, was the home to the shogunate (bakufu 幕府, “tent government”), a hereditary military dictatorship that ruled over Japan and which granted only nominal authority to the imperial court. While the institution of the shogunate persisted until 1867, the capital was moved at the end of the Kamakura period back to the cultural center of Kyoto. After centuries of gradual decline, significant domestic and international interest was thrust back on to Kamakura in the Meiji period (1868-1912), when its proximity to the newly created international port of Yokohama increased its exposure to travelers and businesses.
When the 1923 earthquake hit the region, one of the early storylines that spread through American newspapers concerned the survival of the Kamakura Daibutsu, a destination known worldwide among globetrotting tourists. While the 93 metric tonne bronze statue had shifted 30 centimeters forward, warping its back and neck, it survived relatively unharmed. Because of the shift in weight, a portion of the stone pedestal was pushed into the ground. The pedestal itself, however, received extensive structural damage requiring significant repair, which occurred early in 1925.
Sometime after the 1923 earthquake, an unknown publisher issued a set of eight postcards memorializing the scenic views of Kamakura. Thematic sets of postcards had long been manufactured by Japanese publishers, both by private printers and the government. When the government first printed its own picture postcards (ehagaki 絵葉書) in 1902 (private companies were allowed two years earlier), it issued a set of six cards commemorating the Japanese–Korea Treaty of Amity (Nitchō-shūkōjōki 日朝修好条規). Regardless of this precedent for publishing a set of six cards, issuing a set of eight cards soon became standard for postcard publishers.
Why issue a set of eight cards? On theory traces the origin to the artistic preferences of Song Dynasty China. A set of eight scenic vistas has its historical origins in the brush paintings of Chinese artist and government bureaucrat Song Di 宋迪 (c. 1067 – c. 1080) who is attributed with created the visual genre of the Eight Views of the Xiao and Xiang Rivers (Xiāoxiāng Bājǐng瀟湘八景)[Song Di’s paintings are now lost]. The notion that a set of “eight scenic vistas” or “eight views” (hakkei 八景) constituted a complete and integrated set made its way into Japan by the fourteenth-century. This motivated Japanese artisans and poets to find their own groupings of “famous sites” (meisho 名所) and by the Edo period (1615-1868) each province claimed to have its own set of eight special vistas.[1] For example, Kanazawa 金沢 in Sagami Province, in which Kamakura also resides, became among the most famous sets of eight views in Japan, which was visually represented by woodblock artists such as Utagawa Hiroshige 歌川広重 (1797-1858). Perhaps surprisingly, given Kamakura’s historical importance as a national capital, a specific set of eight views was never expressed among pre-Meiji poets, artists, and woodblock printers.[2]
Given the precedence of the literary and artistic value of the eight scenic vistas genre, one could conclude postcard publishers were naturally filling in the gaps of history when they issued sets of eight postcards depicting famous locations around Kamakura. Kanji Satō suggests this would be premature, as it overlooks the particular means of postcard manufacturing. The photomechanical process of printing late Meiji postcards was dominated by the collotype press, which used relatively large sheets of paper that were later cut into individual cards. Each of these sheets accommodated eight individual postcards, thus sets were most efficiently designed in groupings of eight cards, totaling 8, 16, 24, or 32 cards per set. Thus the relationship to the historical groupings of eight scenic vistas portrayed as a “complete” set is most likely coincidental, although it dovetails nicely into traditional Japanese arts.
Figure 1 [Set 1] & Figure 2 [Set 2]
Sometime in the 1920s sets of picture postcards were more frequently issued in a paper sleeve or cover. These sleeves were initially imprinted with text or simple designs, but due to the highly competitive commercial market these utilitarian items became subject to the same visual expectations as the postcards themselves. The examples before us bear a hand-colored photographic image, which is given the same artistic care as the cards they hold [Fig. 1 & Fig. 2]. In addition to the minor and idiosyncratic coloring differences, each set uses a slightly different letterpress design. Set 2 also appears to be influenced by an Art Deco font style.
Figure 3 & Figure 4
The sleeve image of the Daibutsu matches the photograph of the Daibutsu on the interior postcard, save for the bokashi-style color wash of the sky. Both sleeves show a pink-hued twilight coloring of the sky while the cards are tinted with a daylight blue [Fig. 3 & Fig. 4]. The fact that these selves and cards are hand-colored is partly surprising. In the early part of the twentieth century many monochromatic photographic postcards were hand-tinted. In the early part of the Taishō period (1912-1926), however, a multi-color collotype printing process was developed, presenting a new option for publishers to speed up their production process. Some publishers took advantage of this technology and multi-color printed cards existed side-by-side with hand-tinted cards into the early 1920s. After the 1923 earthquake, however, almost all publishers adopted this new printing technology when they re-opened their businesses. Since these two sets of cards were issued post-1923 (see below), the fact that our unknown publisher was employing hand-coloring was an added selling point – justifiably noted on the sleeve.
Figure 5
Figure 6 [sleeve] & Figure 7 [postcard]
The photograph of the Daibutsu appears staged, as all of the onlookers face squarely towards the colossal statue with legs drawn together and arms at their sides. Upon close inspection, we also see very subtle signs of the 1923 earthquake that ravaged the Kantō region. The lanterns, for example, are shortened from their usual height, signs they needed to be pieced back together and re-erected. Additionally, the items normally arranged atop the offering table are now missing [Figs. 3 &4]. More significantly, the structure to the right of the Daibutsu appears slipshod, a significant difference from the ornate hipped roof building that stood in that same location for three decades [Fig. 5]. Moreover, in a detail that is only visible on the cover sleeves, wooden supports hold up the base of the pedestal, a clear indication of the damages rendered in 1923 [Fig. 6]. An artist carefully painted over the wooden supports for the postcard image, creating a new brick façade to complete the deception [Fig. 7]. The most evident sign of damage is the toppled tree that breaks into the foreground view from the left side [Figs. 3 &4].
Most likely, this photograph represents a period after the terrible destruction caused by the earthquake and after the initial clean-up of the temple grounds. Indeed, enough time has passed so the structure on the right could have been constructed. Yet, the ample work reported in refinishing the pedestal appears to have not yet been executed. Furthermore, in other photographs from April 1925 after the repairs, not only are the wooden supports removed, but the lanterns have been reconstructed fully and moved to the second landing. These details all suggest this photograph of the Daibutsu was taken after the Great Kantō earthquake on September 1, 1923, but before the repairs were finished in early 1925.
Figure 8 [Set 1] & Figure 9 [Set 2]
I suspect that Set 1 was printed in the mid-to-late 1920s. Regrettably, I have not yet been able to match the trademark of a drum (in the stamp box, see Fig. 8) to any known publisher. While Set 2 contains photographs of the same locations, only four of the eight photographs have been copied directly from Set 1. The other four cards offer different vantage points of those locations. Most importantly, the caption (in Japanese only) of the image of the bell tower at Kenchō-ji Temple in Set 2 distinguishes the bell as a National Treasure (kokuhō 國寶)[Fig. 23], a designation it received only on November 14, 1933, thus establishing a firm terminus post quem for this set. I would estimate that Set 2, also issued under an unknown publisher (although I’ve suspected Hoshinoya in the past), was printed in the mid-1930s. I remain uncertain if the same publisher issued both sets.
Below I offer brief historical commentary on the remaining seven views from both sets. The older set, i.e. Set 1, bears simpler captions that are set in blank spaces around the card. The newer set, i.e. Set 2, places the captions along the bottom edge of the cards, as is more traditional. The English in the bilingual caption is sometimes a loose translation of the Japanese, thus I provide a more literal rendering in square brackets.
Figure 10 & Figure 11
Set 1 caption: Hachiman Temple 鎌倉八幡宮 [Hachiman Shrine, Kamakura]
Set 2 caption: Hachiman Shrine Kamakura 鎌倉八幡宮 [Hachiman Shrine, Kamakura]
Residing at the geographical center of the city, the unusually long, nearly 2-kilometer long road leading to the Hachiman Shrine entrance traditionally doubled as the main thoroughfare of the city. Originally constructed in 1063, the founder of the Kamakura shogunate, Minamoto no Yoritomo 源頼朝 (1147-99), invited the tutelary kami of warriors, Hachiman 八幡, to reside in a new reconstruction of the shine in order to protect his fledgling government. Due to its relationship with the shogun and important political role, the Hachiman Shrine remains the most historically and culturally important site in Kamakura. Previous to 1868, this site was a shrine-temple complex (jingū-ji 神宮寺), meaning it was used as a place for Buddhist practice and the worship of kami.
Figure 12 & Figure 13
Set 1 caption: Tsuchiro Kamakura 鎌倉大塔宮土牢 [“The prison at Ōtōnomiya Shrine, Kamakura”]
Set 2 caption: Tsuchiro Kamakura 鎌倉大塔宮土牢 [“The prison at Ōtōnomiya Shrine, Kamakura”]
The Kamakura Shrine was erected by Emperor Meiji in 1869 to honor Prince Moriyoshi 護良親王 (also read Morinaga) (1308-1335) who was imprisoned and killed as an act of political retribution in 1335. Before he actively helped his father lead forces against the shogun, Moriyoshi was a Buddhist monk and previously held the position of head abbot of Enryaku-ji Temple 延暦寺, the prestigious seat of the Tendai school.[3] Moriyoshi’s life and unfortunate death captured the imagination of the Japanese and he was well known even before the creation of the shrine memorializing him. The postcard photograph depicts the cave behind the main shrine hall (haiden 拝殿), which according to tradition is where the prince was held captive for nine months. The alternate name of this site is Ōtōnomiya Shrine 大塔宮, for a pseudonym used by Moriyoshi.
Figure 14 & Figure 15
Set 1 caption: View of Yenoshima 七里ヶ濱ヨリ江ノ島ヲ望 [Distant View of Enoshima from Shichirigahama]
Set 2 caption: View of Enoshima (Island) near Kamakura 七里ヶ濱ヨリ江ノ島ヲ望ム [Distant View of Enoshima from Shichirigahama]
Figure 16 & Figure 17
Set 1: View of Yenoshima 江ノ島入口 [The Entrance to Enoshina]
Set 2: Entrance of Enoshima (Island) near Kamakura 江ノ島入口棧橋 [The Entrance Bridge to Enoshina]
The famed island of Enoshima is a center of worship to the goddess Benzaiten 弁財天, a figure with origins in India and who entered Japan in the 6th through 8th centuries. As one of her roles, Benzaiten was considered the protector of the nation and thus was favored by military leaders. The founder of the Kamakura shogunate, Minamoto no Yoritomo 源頼朝 (1147-99), took advantage of the proximity of Enoshima to his new capital and mandated the construction of a torii on the island to memorialize his devotion to the goddess. Taking advantage of visitors to the islands, entrepreneurs soon set up a variety of shops, consequently making the excursion even more attractive to travelers. For early Western tourists, the sandy beaches made the island a favorite resort area. Older woodblock prints show that the island was connected to the Shichirigahama beach by a shallow sandbar before the bridge was constructed.
Figure 18 & Figure 19
Set 1 caption: Hase Temple 鎌倉長谷寺 [Hasa-dera Temple, Kamakura]
Set 2 caption: Hase Temple Kamakura 鎌倉長谷寺 [Hasa-dera Temple, Kamakura]
With origins in the 8th century, this temple is best known for housing one of the largest wooden statues in Japan. It is a 9 meter (approx. 30 foot) tall statue of the Buddhist goddess Kannon 觀音. Its purported origins are rather interesting. It is believed an artist named Tokudo 徳道 made two large Kannon statues from a single fragrant camphor tree in 721. One was enshrined in Hase-dera Temple in Nara, while the second was set adrift into the sea. Fifteen years later the wooden statue washed ashore near Kamakura and a temple, also named Hase-dera, was constructed to honor it. Like many religious sites in Kamakura during the Kamakura period, this temple was restored and expanded. Several later postcard sets of Kamakura include a view of the Kannon statue.
Figure 20 & Figure 21
Set 1: Yengakuji Temple Kamakura 鎌倉円覚寺舍利殿 [Reliquary Hall of Engaku-ji Temple, Kamakura]
Set 2: Engaku-ji Temple Kamakura 鎌倉圓覺寺山門 [Front Entrance of Engaku-ji Temple, Kamakura]
Founded in 1282 during the Kamakura period, Engaku-ji Temple was included as one of the Kamakura’s “Five Mountains” (gozan 五山), a network of Zen Buddhist temples supervised by a state bureaucracy but that also received the state’s protection. In the Meiji period (1868-1912) it became the center for Zen study in the eastern part of Japan. Not coincidentally, the famed popularizer of Zen in America, D.T. Suzuki (1870-1966), trained there (though he remained a layperson until his death). Set 1 depicts the temple Reliquary Hall (noted in the Japanese caption) which houses a tooth of the Buddha. This building is registered as a National Treasure. Set 2 depicts the temple front gate (sanmon 山門, “mountain gate”), itself a prominent piece of architecture on the temple grounds.
Figure 22 & Figure 23
Set 1 caption: Kenchoji Temple Kamakura 鎌倉建長寺山門 [Front Entrance of Kenchō-ji Temple, Kamakura]
Set 2 caption: Tsurigane (Bell-Tower) Kencho-ji Temple Kamakura 鎌倉建長寺鐘樓(國寶) [Bell Tower at Kenchō-ji Temple, Kamakura (National Treasure)]
Founded in 1253 during the Kamakura period, Kenchō-ji is the oldest Zen training temple in Japan. Like Engaku-ji, it was also included among the “Five Mountains” network. Set 1 depicts the temple front gate. And while Set 2 depicts the bell tower, the significant historical entity is the temple bell (bonshō 梵鐘), itself designated as a National Treasure (kokuhō 國寶), the most precious of Japan’s historic and cultural properties. Cast in 1255 by Mononobe Shigemitsu 物部重光 it is the second largest in the Kantō region, only to one housed in Engaku-ji. It is believed that the goddess Benzaiten, who was thought to reside on the nearby island of Enoshima (see above), offered her divine protection to have it made. Some modern scholars have suggested Mononobe as the caster of the Kamakura Daibutsu since this bell was made around the same period, although this remains unlikely.
Notes:
*This is part of a series of posts devoted to exploring the development of a visual literacy for Buddhist imagery in America. All items (except otherwise noted) are part of my personal collection of Buddhist-themed ephemera.
[2] Nenzi (2004) outlines the development of Kamakura and Sagami generally into a destination spot through the identification of “tourist packages.”
[3] Moriyoshi (his Buddhist name was Son’un 尊雲) had a complex relationship to his monastic vocation, since his vital role as abbot was to enlist the help of important temples and warrior monks to help his father, Emperor Go-Daigo 後醍醐天皇 (1288-1339), in his fight against the Kamakura shogunate.
Additional Posts in Visual Literacy of Buddhism Series
For nearly three decades after the first Japanese postal cards were issued in 1873, printing and distribution were strictly controlled by the government. Only with changes in postal codes in 1900 could private publishers start printing and selling their own postcards. Importantly, and for the first time, these privately issued cards could bear images on the obverse, thus being termed “picture postcards” (ehagaki絵葉書). Previous government-issued specimens were printed blank to accommodate a sender’s written message. Moreover, the growing use among Japanese print shops of inexpensive collotype printing equipment meant photographs could be easily reproduced for this new medium. Many early photographic postcards are reproductions of images originally created and sold in Japanese photography studios, as is the case with the examples here.
Figure 1
Title/Caption: DAIBUTSU AT KAMAKURA
Year: 1900-1907 (postally unused)
Photographer: Esaki Reiji 江崎礼二 (1845-1910)[?]
Medium: collotype print on cardstock, hand-tinted
Dimensions: 5.5 in X 3.5 in
Reverse Imprint: Union Postale Universelle. CARTE POSTALE, 萬國郵便聯合端書
This postcard depicts the Kamakura Daibutsu, scaled to fit in the upper-left corner of the card [Fig. 1]. The blank space on the right side was reserved for a written message; Japanese postal code required the reverse side to be reserved solely for the name and address of the recipient. Once messages could be included on the reverse in 1907, postcard images were regularly scaled to fit the entirety of the obverse side.
For artistic flourish, the publisher of our card employed a subtle trompe-l’œil, making it appear as if the corner of the photographic image is curling off the paper. Visual illusions such as this would make the postcard stand out among a sea of similar imagery. Printed in large block lettering, the caption clearly denotes the subject of the photograph, the “Daibutsu at Kamakura.”
Figure 2
Title/Caption: 451 [or 461] DAIBUTSU AT KAMAKURA
Year: 1900-1907 (postally unused)
Photographer: Esaki Reiji 江崎礼二 (1845-1910)[?]
Medium: collotype print on cardstock, hand-tinted
Dimensions: 5.5 in X 3.5 in
Reverse Imprint: Union Postale Universelle. CARTE POSTALE, 萬國郵便聯合端書
Another postcard employs the same photograph. Here, the image covers a larger portion of the card, but lacks the trompe-l’œil effect [Fig. 2]. Additionally, the caption is much smaller and incorporates an identifying stock number, 451 (or possibly 461). It is of note that a caption which incorporates a stock number with a title is characteristic of prints made by Japanese photography studios of the 1880’s and 1890’s. By comparing this stock number to known lists gleaned from published Japanese studio albums, it appears likely the original photograph was taken by Esaki Reiji 江崎礼二 (1845-1910), a famed Tokyo-based photographer.[1]
Esaki apprenticed under the pioneering photographer Shimooka Renjō 下岡蓮杖 (1823-1914) in 1870 before opening his own studio in 1871 in Asakusa Park.[2] He soon established himself as a technical master, among the first of Japanese photographers to adopt the new gelatin dry-plate (zerachin kanpan ゼラチン乾板) technique in 1883 and executing technically difficult pictures of a naval mine detonating in the Sumida River (1883) and night-time exposures of a lunar eclipse (1884) and exploding fireworks (1885). The shorter exposure times of the dry-plate process also allowed Esaki to more easily photograph fidgeting children, an expertise he proudly displayed in a famous collage of more than 1700 young children and infants (1893).[3]
Figure 3
The photograph of the Daibutsu by Esaki (or one of his studio assistants) depicts the bronze statue from the southwest corner, an uncommon, but notunprecedented angle. More relevant to the site’s religious heritage, the photograph shows a line of Japanese pilgrims (jinreisha 巡礼者) in front of the Daibutsu, easily identified by their broad circular sedge hats and walking staffs carried over their shoulders [Fig. 3]. The mise-en-scène is more relaxed than reverent. The lead pilgrim, who holds his hat in his hand, appears to read the small rectangular sign perched on the pedestal (which, coincidentally, forbids climbing on the statue), while his fellow travelers casually stand conversing with one another. Only the temple priest by the offering table glances directly towards the camera.[4] This mundane expression of religious piety stands in contrast to the highly orchestrated images of devotion sometimes staged by Western photographers. Significantly, the distinction between Japanese pilgrim and tourist is often blurred, as both can engage in similar activities at a pilgrimage site, including visits to the temple souvenir shop.
Although faded, the hand-tinting is still visible in both cards, with the slate blue colossus overlooking his faithful visitors. The elements in the scene suggest this photograph was taken in the late 1890’s.[5]
Figure 4
The reverse of both cards is bordered by an ornamental filigree-like design in burgundy ink [Fig. 4]. These are examples of “undivided back” cards, since no line yet separates the areas on the back where the correspondence and address would later come to be written. This functions now as an easy identifier for dating old postcards, with these dating between 1900 and 1907. Since it was not yet common for publishers to imprint their names or trademarks on the back, it is difficult to tell who printed these beautifully rendered cards.
[1] Stock lists for Esaki’s studio do not include numbers 451 or 461, but numbers 452 to 460 are all images of Kamakura, specifically Hachiman Temple, the Daibutsu, and the lotus ponds in Kōtokuin (the temple that houses the Daibutsu). See Bennett 2006a: 129. Unfortunately, almost all attributions to Esaki and his studio remain tentative and more work desperately needs to be done on his photographic oeuvre.
[2] For Esaki’s biographical information, see Bennett 2006b: 165 and here and here. Several Japanese resources note his name as “Ezaki,” but I follow the standard English “Esaki,” which is also how he promoted his studio on photographic mounts and in other published materials (the older “Yesaki” can also be found).
[3] This image was also sold in the United States through Sears & Roebuck catalogues.
[4] Closer inspection reveals a young boy towards the far right of the photograph, holding his hat in his hand, also possibly peering towards the camera
.
[5] I have seen postcards of this image cancelled in January 1902, setting a firm terminus ante quem for the photograph. I have also seen a third postcard, oriented vertically, bearing this same photograph.
Additional Posts in Visual Literacy of Buddhism Series
In the ongoing attempt to identify Japanese picture postcards (ehagaki絵葉書) in my collection, I’ve decided to publish my working notes on identifying early twentieth century Japanese postcard publishers.
Moreover, using Urakawa Kazuya’s 浦川和也 four-period chronology as a foundation, I try to catalog variant designs printed on the reverse (atena-men 宛名面, “address side”) by each publisher as well as different letterpress captioning styles on the obverse (egara [or shashin]-men 絵柄[写真]面, “design [or photograph] side,” or tsūshin-men 通信面, “communication side”)[1].
The goal is to help identify cards that do not bear a publisher’s name or trademark (shōhyō 商標, rogumāku ロゴマーク) – an easily fallible endeavor.
The information below is mostly gleaned from Japanese sources (both print and digital) as well as some personal observations. I emphasize that this post represents my “working notes” – I will update it as time allows.
Moreover, Japan was among the largest producers of postcards during the early twentieth century, thus the research below is far from exhaustive and directly reflects my personal interests. I am mainly interested in hand-tinted photomechanically reproduced cards from the late Meiji and early Taishō eras (there is, for example, a large collectors market for artist picture postcards [bijutsu ehagaki 美術絵葉書] which I do not cover).
Topically, I am interested in landscape scenery (fūkei 風景) – specifically of Japanese religious sites – so my research skews in this direction. There is a list of helpful references at the end of this post.
Please contact me if you can provide any other information or resources about Japanese postcard publishers, or any other oversights and errors: peter.romaskiewicz[at]gmail[dot]com.
A Brief History of Publishing Postcards in Meiji and Early Taishō Japan
The commercial market for photography in Japan grew significantly in the 1860s and 1870s with the arrival of globetrotting tourists seeking souvenirs of their exotic travels in Asia. The primary port of entry for travelers entering Japan during the Meiji era was Yokohama which emerged as the center of this competitive commercial industry. Yokohama shashin 横浜写真, or “Yokohama photography,” came to denote the particular fusion of Western technology and Japanese craftsmanship as monochromatic prints were hand colored by artists to produce vibrant, eye-catching scenes. Throughout the 1880s and 1890s Japanese owned photography studios grew in number and significance, slowly displacing their Western counterparts who had bigger shares of the market in the 1860s and 1870s. Moreover, as travel restrictions were lifted for foreigners and domestic interest in photography increased, Japanese owned photography studios started to successfully populate more diverse urban areas throughout Japan. The aesthetic cultivated by these early photography studios would have a great influence on the first domestic publishers of postcards in Japan.
The Japanese postal delivery service began in March 1871 and soon joined the Union Postale Universelle (bankoku yūbin rengō 萬国郵便聯合) in June 1877, thus permitting the sending and receiving of international mail (although several countries maintained foreign post offices in select Japanese cities earlier). The first postal card (hagaki 端書) in Japan was issued in December 1873, but until the end of the nineteenth century all cards were government-issued (kansei 官製). These are identifiable through prepaid franking printed on the address side (i.e. reverse) of the card. The obverse remained blank to accommodate a written message.
Changes in postal codes on October 1, 1900 allowed private companies to publish picture postcards (ehagaki絵葉書) where an illustration or design could be included on the back (until the adoption of a “divided back” reverse design in April 1907, the sender’s message also had to be written on the obverse side). Two years later, the government started to produce its own commemorative picture postcards. These changes altered the landscape of the postcard market and starting a new cultural phenomenon.
For private-issued (shisei 私製) cards, photographic imagery soon became the favored visual expression and many images from Japanesephotography studios were initially used for this new medium. These images were photomechanically reproduced through an inexpensive planographic printing technique known as the collotype (korotaipu コロタイプ), introduced commercially in Japan by Ogawa Kazumasa 小川 一眞 (1860-1929) in 1889. Multi-color collotype printing was very difficult to execute, thus many early twentieth-century postcard publishers employed artists who hand-painted the cards with washes of watercolor (some colors, like red, contained stronger pigmentation). Consequently, the aesthetic of Yokohama shashin that developed in the early Meiji period continued into the early Taishō era through this new visual medium.
The Russo-Japanese War from 1904 to 1905 initiated what is now referred to as a “picture postcard boom” (ehagaki būmu 絵葉書ブーム or ehagaki ryōko 絵葉書流行). Postcards were sold all throughout Japan, especially in urban centers. One could find postcard specialty shops in cities like Yokohama, Tokyo, Kyoto, or Kobe. Moreover, many other businesses became involved in the lucrative postcard market, including photography studios, printing shops, booksellers, souvenir stores, and even temples. The larger publishers would sell their stock wholesale to other stores, thus canvassing the country with inexpensive photographic images of landscapes, city scenes, portraits of geisha, actors, the royal family, daily activities, war scenes, natural disasters, and so forth. At least one publisher, Ueda Photographic Prints Corp., had a retailer directly sell their products in New York City.
Infrequently, publishers would inconspicuously print their name and address on the card. It slowly became common, though far from standard, for larger publishers to print their signature trademark or logo on the card, most commonly in the stamp box (kitte ichi 切手位置) on the reverse side. While this would aesthetically frame the trademark, once a stamp was affixed it would also render the publisher anonymous. It is also possible to locate a publisher’s name or insignia elsewhere on the card, for example as part of the dividing line or in the letterpress caption. Some publishers would also inconspicuously hide their insignia, such as Ueda or Tonboya, as discussed below.
In too many cases, however, there is little identifying evidence to ascertain the publisher of a card. (In this industry of mass-production, it goes without saying that identifying the original photographer or individual colorist is, sadly, impossible.) Elsewhere I have described a method to help determine otherwise anonymous publishers, and I consider this entry a further exploration of this endless, though enjoyable, quest. Unfortunately, I would not claim attributions here to be assured, only my best guesses.
Ueda Photographic Prints Corp.
上田写真版合資会社
Ueda Yoshizō
Born in Tokyo, Ueda Yoshizō 上田義三 (1865–?) found employment after college in the oldest German export trading company in the capital, Aherns & Co. (Ārensu shōkai アーレンス商会), founded by Heinrich Aherns in 1869. In the mid-1890’s, after Ueda toured Europe and America, he returned to Japan to open his first business venture in 1897 (Meiji 30), the Yokohama Photographic Printing Co. 横浜写真版印刷所 first located on Yatozaka Slope 谷戶坂. In 1905 (Meiji 38) the business moved to Okina-chō3-chōme (No. 131) 翁町3丁目(131番) and around 1913 (Taishō 2) the business was renamed Ueda Photographic Prints Corp. 上田写真版合資会社 (the name “Uyeda” can be found printed on some postcards).
Ueda was highly successful in selling photographs and producing government-issued postcards on his own collotype printing equipment. Importantly, Ueda’s success in printing early landscape and figural picture postcards presaged the Japanese postcard boom after the Russo-Japanese War, thus he became recognized as the “Japanese Pioneer of Picture Postcard Manufacturing” 日本元祖絵葉書製造元. Īkura Tōmei 飯倉東明 (1884-?) worked as Udea’s director of photography in the first decade of the twentieth century. My analysis of Ueda postcards from 1907–1918 can be found below.
Around 1905 (Meiji 38), Yoshimura Kiyoshi 吉村清, the proprietor of the well-known Tokyo-based publisher Kamigataya 上方屋 (in Ginza), started a new venture in Yokohama, called Tonboya トンボヤ, or “Dragonfly Studio.” [2] Along with Ueda, Tonboya was the most prolific hand-painted postcard publisher in late Meiji/early Taishō Japan, also opening offices in Tokyo, Kawasaki, and Yokosuka. The original shop was located on Isezaki-chō 2-chōme (No. 16) 伊勢佐木町2丁目(16番), a famous area known among foreigners as Theatre Street (see post frontispiece above). The storefront can easily be located in period photographs due to its distinctive Japanese-style red cylindrical postal box (yūbinposuto 郵便ポスト) sign painted with ehakaki エハカキ [sic], or “Picture Postcards.” The left-hand column of words on the white storefront sign says “photographic collotype printing.”
Kamigataya stamp box trademark
The postal box was also the trademark printed in the stamp box for Kamigataya issued cards. The precise business relationship between Kamigataya and Tonboya remains obscure.
Postal box signboard in Motomachi
Kamigataya appears to have had an officein the Motomachi district (Motomachi-dori 2-chōme [No. 85]) which also appears in period photographs, here saying “postal cards” (in some photographs, Kamigataya is visible on the front of the sign). In the early Showa Period after the Great Kantō earthquake, Tonboya moved to Izezaki-chō 1-chōme (No. 36) 1丁目(36番). Cards were initially hand-colored, but Tonboya used a multicolored collotype process starting in the early Taisho. Tonboya remained in operation after the Great Kantō Earthquake of 1923.
Tonboya Reverse Designs and Obverse Captions
Period I (October 1900-March 1907) – Undivided Back
Type 1: The characteristic dragonfly (tonbo) trademark is placed in the stamp box.Type 2: A variant dragonfly trademark is placed in the upper left-hand corner.Type 3: Even without the dragonfly seal, the characteristic serif font in dark/black ink can help identify the publisher. The same serif font, however, was also used by Kamigataya which is easily identified by the Japanese postal box trademark in the stamp box. With no identifying emblem it remains difficult to confidently identify the publisher as Tonboya or Kamigataya. Tonboya, however, seems to have regularly used black ink for the reverse while Kamkigataya seems to have preferred dark green or maroon. Moreover, Kamigataya cards are sometimes printed with the “UNION POSTALE UNIVERSELLE” header as narrower than “CARTE POSTALE” below.For Tonboya Types 1-3, the obverse captioning is typically in capital letters and finished with a period. Some captions include a stock number in parentheses. It should be noted that Kamigataya also used capital lettering in this period.
Period II (March 1907-March 1918)
Type 4: Dragonfly trademark with divided back and address lines. Variants exist with the rule lines for the name and address omitted.Type 5: No dragonfly trademark with divided back, here with rule lines for the name and address.Type 5 (variant): No dragonfly trademark with divided back, here without rule lines.Type 5 (variant): No dragonfly trademark with barred dividing line (top of line) and without rule lines.For Types 4-5, the obverse captions often incorporate a dragonfly facing downwards and to the left. A stock number in parentheses with a letter code indicating the location of the image is also sometimes included (e.g. Y=Yokohama). Note, however, this system is not universal, these designs can have the older captioning system of capital letters.Type 6 [Yokohama Jubilee](Japanese): This reverse design was printed for the 1909 fiftieth anniversary jubilee for the opening of Yokohama port. The symbol in the stamp box is the emblem of Yokohama. Notably, the reverse design bears the dragonfly as the ki キ.Type 6 [Yokohama Jubilee](English): Same design as above with English name and street address. The design also incorporates “MADE IN JAPAN” in the dividing line, suggesting this card was printed with US customs laws in mind. The Yokohama city insignia is also missing in the stamp box.For Type 6, the obverse captions have a dragonfly facing upwards to the left. Sometimes a stock number in parentheses is incorporated.Type 7 (blue): Around September 1909, “UNION POSTALE UNIVERSELLE” is removed and a new bilingual header is introduced. The dotted dividing line may or may not contain “MADE IN JAPAN.” Notably, the reverse design bears the dragonfly as the ki キ.Type 7 (umber): The reverse design is printed in blue, umber, or black.Type 7 (black): A barred line variant is also common.Type 7 (blue): Here with address linesFor Type 7, the obverse captions most typically have a dragonfly facing upwards with a stock number and letter identification in parentheses. There are, however, exceptions. The letterpress is commonly in italic print, but not always. At some point, the letter identification is printed in lower case. Confusingly, the Sakaeya publishing house 栄屋商店 lion is sometimes incorporated in the caption, even when the reverse design bears the dragonfly as the ki キ (!). I presume, but have no firm evidence, that Sakaeya purchased the card stock from Tonboya already imprinted with the reverse design (maybe even the front image?) and incorporated their lion insignia in the letterpress caption.
Period III (March 1918-February 1933)
Type 8: A bilingual header with a centered dividing line.Type 8: A minor variant of above with rounded, full-line stamp box.
Hoshinoya
星野屋
Yoshioka Chōjirō
Yoshioka Chōjirō 吉岡長次郎 arrived in Yokohama in 1904 (Meiji 37) with postcards purchased in Tokyo, hoping to turn a profit by reselling them to foreigners. After receiving numerous orders and making several trips back to Tokyo to restock, Yoshioka opened a shop in Yokohama at Onoe-chō 4-chōme, No. 61 尾上町4丁目(61番).
Possible display of cards at Hoshinoya
By the end of the Russo-Japanese War in the fall of 1905, he had collected many collotype plates of native landscapes and was very successful marketing to both foreigners and Japanese. Hoshinoya emerged as one of the most well-known postcard shops in the port of Yokohama.
Hoshinoya Reverse Designs and Obverse Captions
Period I (October 1900-March 1907) – Undivided Back
I have not yet confidently identified undivided back Hoshinoya cards.
Period II (March 1907-March 1918)
The Art Nouveau style “Carte Postale” is an easily identifying characteristic of Hoshinoya cards. I have also seen Nassen & Co. cards with this same font and scalloped stamp box, however, but cards with the Nassen & Co. imprint are far less common in the secondary market. In any regard, any reverse design with the publisher’s mark could be Hoshinoya or Nassen & Co. A variant style for “Carte Postale” can also be found. Note the stamp box is vertical.This reverse design, with French header and multilingual translation, is frustrating. Here, it is clearly identified by the Hoshinoya stamp box trademark. Without the stamp box insignia, however, this design is fairly common among cards in the secondary market. I had previously believed cards without a printer’s insignia were an Ueda product (Type 2), but I also have found evidence suggesting this design was used by Tonboya as well. In any regard, only Hoshinoya’s trademark can be found on cards I have seen (thus far) of this design. Yet, not only is the sans-serif font uncharacteristic of Hoshinoya cards of this period, this publisher often used “Union Postale Universelle” as a header; this phrase is absent on the card here. It suffices to say that it was surprising to find a Hoshinoya insignia on this reverse design. It remains possible that this reverse design (without the Hoshinoya trademark) was shared among several printers (see, e.g., Sakaeya below). Unfortunately, I am not sure this will ever be resolved with certainty.Reverse printed in umber, see my comments directly above.
Period III (March 1918-February 1933)
Period III using the Art Nouveau style “Carte Postale.”Hoshinoya is also clearly indicated on the obverse of this card, thus connecting the sans-serif font to the card design noted above. I am unsure of this identification, but I take the star at the top of the dividing bar to indicate the Hoshinoya trademark.I am also unsure of this identification, It seems that Hoshinoya started to use a light blue more regularly for the reverse designs, so I include this one here.Hoshinoya relocated to Nikko and started to produce sets of this locale. Backs are also printed in Japanese.
Sakaeya & Co.
栄屋商店
Sakaeye storefront in Motomachi, Kobe
A Kobe based company with a shop in Motomachi, Kobe. A majority of this publisher’s cards are of Kobe and its environs, but there are other images among its portfolio. Curiously, I have seen Sakaeya’s lion insignia in the caption of images that were printed on cards bearing both Ueda’s and Tonboya’s seals on the reverse. I’d speculate that Sakaeya purchased Ueda and Tonboya cardstock and used it to print their own cards. It seems likely they mainly sold them in Kobe with the lion insignia imprinted on the front. Period III cards also bare the insignia of Taisho Hato (see below), a dove with is wings spread open.
Sakaeya Reverse Designs and Obverse Captions
Period II (March 1907-March 1918)
Ueda publisher back with Sakeya insignia in obverse caption.Tonboya publisher back with Sakeya insignia in obverse caption.Sakaeya captions typically use stock numbers with letter identification (most are K for Kobe), sometimes inside parentheses. The letterpress is sometimes italicized. While the lion insignia is printed in the bottom right corner, sometimes the Sakeya name is also included by the stock identification number. It is uncommon for landscape postcards to have the Sakaeya name or insignia printed on the reverse.
Period III (March 1918-February 1933)
Sakaeya continued to use Udea cards stock for their postcards into Period IIIEventually, Sakaeya incorporated the lion insignia into the stamp box.Later period captions sometimes still incorporate the Sakaeya lion insignia, but it gets removed when the name and insignia are incorporated on the reverse. Sakaeya also started to use two lines of letterpress.
Naniwaya Co. 浪華屋 (Kanda, Tokyo 東京神田) – [later became Tokyo Design Printing Co. 東京図按(vl. 案)印刷社; Kuroda Hisayoshi 黒田久吉]
Nassen & Co. (Yoshioka-chō, Yokohama) – interlaced N and S atop floral design
Nisshinsha (Tokyo 東京)
S.N. Banshiudo 長島萬集堂 [Nagashima banshūdō](Shiba, Tokyo 東京芝)
Taisho Hato Brand 大正鳩ブランド (Wakayama 和歌山)
Tōdai-ji 東大寺 (Nara 奈良)
Notes
[1] The nomenclature for the sides of the postcard derived from their original design where one side was reserved solely for the address, while the other was reserved for the written message, and eventually, a printed image. These are also known as the reverse (rimen 裏面) and obverse (hyōmen 表面).
Kamigataya storefront displaying postcards for sale.
[2] Some sources name the proprietor as Maeda Tokutarō 前田徳太郎, but I have not seen this name in printed Japanese sources. Some sources note 1907 (Meiji 40) as the date for the founding of Tonboya. A Kamigataya sign and display of postcards can also be found in the Motomachi district of Yokohama.
Resources
Print Resources [selected]
Barclay, Paul D. 2010. “Peddling Postcards and Selling Empire: Image-Making in Taiwan under Japanese Colonial Rule.” Japanese Studies, Vol. 30, No. 1, pp. 81-110.
Geary, Christraud & Webb, Virginia-Lee, eds. 1998. Delivering Views: Distant Cultures in Early Postcards. Washington DC: Smithsonian Institution.
Handy, Ellen. 1998. “Japonisme and American Postcard Visions of Japan: Beauties and Workers, Cherry Blossoms and SIlkworms.” In Delivering Views: Distant Cultures in Early Postcards, edited by Christraud Geary and Virginia-Lee Webb, 91–114. Washington D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press.
Hibata Sekko 樋畑雪湖. 1936. Nihon ehagaki shichō 日本絵葉書史潮 [The History of Japanese Picture Postcards]. Tokyo: Nihon Yûken Kurabu.
Itō Izumi 伊藤泉美. 2001. “Tsuioku No Yokohama: Ehagaki Ni Miru 100-Nen Mae No Hitobito to Fūkei 追憶の横浜: 絵葉書にみる100年前の人びとと風景 [Memories of Yokohama: Postcards of People and Scenery from 100 Years Ago].” Kaikō No Hiroba 開港のひろば / Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館 [Yokohama Archives of History], Vol. 71. [http://www.kaikou.city.yokohama.jp/journal/images/kaikouno-hiroba_71.pdf]
Kamakura Board of Education 鎌倉市教育委員会. 2011. Ehagaki de miru Kamakura hyakkei 絵葉書で見る鎌倉百景 [One Hundred Views of Kamakura through Postcards].[photos]
Maclachlan, Patricia L. 2011. The People’s Post Office: The History and Politics of the Japanese Postal System, 1871-2010. Harvard University Asia Center.
Matsumoto Hiroyuki 松本洋幸. 2012. “Yokohama No Shashin-Kan No Ayumi – 1860’s~1960’s 横浜の写真館の歩み －1860’s～1960’s [History of Photo Studios in Yokohama – 1860’s – 1960’s].” Kaikō No Hiroba 開港のひろば / Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館 [Yokohama Archives of History], Vol. 115.
Morse, Anne Nishimura; Rimer, J. Thoma & Brown, Kendall H. 2004. Art of the Japanese Postcard. Boston: MFA Publications a Division of the Museum of Fine Arts.
O’Connor, Peter & Cohen, Aaron M. 2001. “Thoughts on the Precipice: Japanese Postcards, c.1903–39,” Japan Forum, Vol. 13, No. 1, pp. 55-62.
Pai, Hyung Il. 2013. “Staging ‘Koreana’ for the Tourist Gaze: Imperialist Nostalgia and the Circulation of Picture Postcards,” History of Photography, Vol. 37, No. 3, pp. 301-311.
Saitō Takio 斎藤多喜夫. 1985. “Yomigaeru Shinsaizen No Yokohama Fūkei よみがえる震災前の横浜風景 [Reviving the Scenery of Yokohama Before the Earthquake].” Kaikō No Hiroba 開港のひろば / Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館 [Yokohama Archives of History], Vol. 12. [http://www.kaikou.city.yokohama.jp/journal/images/kaikouno-hiroba_12.pdf]
Saitō Takio 斎藤多喜夫. 1986. “‘Pedorā Korekushon Ehagaki Ni Miru Shinsaizen No Yokohama Fūkei’-Ten Yow『ペドラー・コレクション絵葉書にみる震災前の横浜風景』展余話 [A Side Note from the Exhibition ‘Scenery of Yokohama before the Earthquake as Seen on Postcards from the Peddler Collection’].” Kaikō No Hiroba 開港のひろば / Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館 [Yokohama Archives of History], Vol. 13.
Satō Kenji. 2002. “Postcards in Japan: A Historical Sociology of a Forgotten Culture.” International Journal of Japanese Sociology, Vol. 11, No. 1, pp. 35-55.
Schor, Naomi. 1992. “Cartes Postales”: Representing Paris 1900,” Critical Inquiry, Vol. 18, No. 2, pp. 188-244
Urakawa Kazuya 浦川和也. 2006. “Ehagaki de Chōsen sōtokufu o miru: ‘Chōsen hantō ehagaki’ no shiryōteki kachi to naihōsareta ‘mezashi.'” Shuka 朱夏, Vol. 21., pp. 39-52.
Yokohama Open Port Museum横浜開港資料館, ed. 1999. Hyaku-nen mae no Yokohama Kanagawa: Ehagaki de miru fūkei 100年前の横浜・神奈川: 絵葉書でみる風景. Kyoto: 有隣堂.
Digital Collections:
Museum of Fine Arts Boston: Art of the Japanese Postcard
![District Associations
2. Yeong Wo Association I (Yanghe huiguan 陽和會館)
6. Yeong Wo Association II (Yanghe huiguan 陽和會館)
8. Ning Yung Association II (Ningyang huiguan 寧陽會館)
10. Hop Wo Association (Hehe huiguan 合和會館)
14. Sam Yup Association II (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館) [?]
17. Sam Yup Association I (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館)
25. Sam Yup Association III (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館)
27. Yan Wo Association (Renhe huiguan 人和會館)
34. Ning Yung Association I (Ningyang huiguan 寧陽會館)
X1. Sze Yup Association (Siba huiguan 四邑會館) Kong Chow Association (Gangzhou huiguan 岡州會館)
Clan Associations
1. Lung Kong Association (Longgang gongsuo 龍岡公所)
3. Lord Tam Temple (Tamgong miao 譚公廟)
12. Wong Kong Ha Shrine (Huang jiangxia黃江夏)
16. Gee Tuck Society (Zhide tang 至德堂)
16. Yee Fung Toy Soc. (Yufengcai tang 余風采堂)
Private Temples
2. Temple of Golden Flower (Jinhua miao 金花廟)
9. City God Temple (Chenghua miao 城隍廟)
14. Tin How Temple (Tianhou miao 天后廟)
16. Eastern Glory Temple II (Donghua miao 東華廟)
19. Guanyin Temple (Guanyin miao 觀音廟)
24. Eastern Glory Temple I (Donghua miao 東華廟)
30. Jackson Street Temple [?]
X2. Ah Ching’s Tin How Temple (Tianhou miao 天后廟)
Secret Societies
11. Hong Sing Society [?] / Dock Tin Society
13. Suey On Society (Ruiduan tang 瑞端堂)
15. Hip Sing Society (Xiesheng tang 協勝堂)
16. Hip Yee Society (Xieyi tang協義堂)
18. Chee Kong Society (Zhigong tang 致公堂)
20. Kai Sen Shea Society (Jishanshe tang 繼善社堂)
21. Bing Kong Society I (Binggong tang 秉公堂)
29. Bing Kong Society II (Binggong tang 秉公堂)
32. Suey Sing Tong (Cuisheng tang 萃勝堂)
33. Hop Sing Tong (Hesheng tang 合勝堂)
Guild Shrines
4. Washermen’s shrine
5. Chinese Merchant’s Exchange shrine
Other
7. Hang Far Low Restaurant
22. Chinese Telephone Exchange
23. Grand Chinese Theatre
26. New Chinese Theatre
28. St. George Temple
31. Yuen Fong Restaurant](https://peterromaskiewicz.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/romaskiewicz-map-of-temples-in-san-francisco-1850se280931906-aug-2025.jpg)
![District Associations
2. Yeong Wo Association I (Yanghe huiguan 陽和會館)
6. Yeong Wo Association II (Yanghe huiguan 陽和會館)
8. Ning Yung Association II (Ningyang huiguan 寧陽會館)
10. Hop Wo Association (Hehe huiguan 合和會館)
14. Sam Yup Association II (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館) [?]
17. Sam Yup Association I (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館)
25. Sam Yup Association III (Sanyi huiguan 三邑會館)
27. Yan Wo Association (Renhe huiguan 人和會館)
34. Ning Yung Association I (Ningyang huiguan 寧陽會館)
X1. Sze Yup Association (Siba huiguan 四邑會館) Kong Chow Association (Gangzhou huiguan 岡州會館)
Clan Associations
1. Lung Kong Association (Longgang gongsuo 龍岡公所)
3. Lord Tam Temple (Tamgong miao 譚公廟)
12. Wong Kong Ha Shrine (Huang jiangxia黃江夏)
16. Gee Tuck Society (Zhide tang 至德堂)
16. Yee Fung Toy Soc. (Yufengcai tang 余風采堂)
Private Temples
2. Temple of Golden Flower (Jinhua miao 金花廟)
9. City God Temple (Chenghua miao 城隍廟)
14. Tin How Temple (Tianhou miao 天后廟)
16. Eastern Glory Temple II (Donghua miao 東華廟)
19. Guanyin Temple (Guanyin miao 觀音廟)
24. Eastern Glory Temple I (Donghua miao 東華廟)
30. Jackson Street Temple [?]
X2. Ah Ching’s Tin How Temple (Tianhou miao 天后廟)
Secret Societies
11. Hong Sing Society [?] / Dock Tin Society
13. Suey On Society (Ruiduan tang 瑞端堂)
15. Hip Sing Society (Xiesheng tang 協勝堂)
16. Hip Yee Society (Xieyi tang協義堂)
18. Chee Kong Society (Zhigong tang 致公堂)
20. Kai Sen Shea Society (Jishanshe tang 繼善社堂)
21. Bing Kong Society I (Binggong tang 秉公堂)
29. Bing Kong Society II (Binggong tang 秉公堂)
32. Suey Sing Tong (Cuisheng tang 萃勝堂)
33. Hop Sing Tong (Hesheng tang 合勝堂)
Guild Shrines
4. Washermen’s shrine
5. Chinese Merchant’s Exchange shrine
Other
7. Hang Far Low Restaurant
22. Chinese Telephone Exchange
23. Grand Chinese Theatre
26. New Chinese Theatre
28. St. George Temple
31. Yuen Fong Restaurant](https://peterromaskiewicz.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/06/romaskiewicz-map-of-temples-in-san-francisco-1850se280931906-legend-aug-2025.png)
Sometime in the 1920s sets of picture postcards were more frequently issued in a paper sleeve or cover. These sleeves were initially imprinted with text or simple designs, but due to the highly competitive commercial market these utilitarian items became subject to the same visual expectations as the postcards themselves. The examples before us bear a hand-colored photographic image, which is given the same artistic care as the cards they hold [Fig. 1 & Fig. 2]. In addition to the minor and idiosyncratic coloring differences, each set uses a slightly different letterpress design. Set 2 also appears to be influenced by an Art Deco font style.
The photograph of the Daibutsu by Esaki (or one of his studio assistants) depicts the bronze statue from the southwest corner, an uncommon, but 
A variant style for “Carte Postale” can also be found. Note the stamp box is vertical.
Akanishi (Kobe 神戸)
Asahidō (Kyoto 京都)
Benrido 便利堂 (Kyoto 京都)[no trademark, but uses distinctive font – 
Hōeidō 保永堂 (Kamakura 鎌倉?)
Naniwaya Co. 浪華屋 (Kanda, Tokyo 
Nisshinsha (Tokyo 
S.N. Banshiudo 
Taisho Hato Brand 大正鳩ブランド (Wakayama 
Tōdai-ji 東大寺 (Nara 奈良)
Personal Site of Peter Romaskiewicz 