Worth a Thousand Words 38 Lacquered Boxes, Hand Scrolls, Folding Screens Tell Ancient Stories by Jessica Shyu Consider it two art forms molding into one masterpieceóageless legends, literature and history retold on lacquered boxes, vibrant hand scrolls and folding screens. In ìTales and Legends in Japanese Art,î whimsical and tragic scenes from familiar Japanese and Chinese stories are captured on Japanese artwork dating back to the 13th century. Once presented in the public and private arenas, the 38 pieces are now on display at the Freer Gallery of Art, offering 21st-century viewers a glimpse into ancient Asian history and culture. The diverse selection was gathered from the Freerís permanent collection and spans three rooms, with colorful scrolls and boxes arranged in two galleries and folding screens in the third gallery. Each piece retells a bit of history, culture and oftentimes, a good old-fashioned story. ìEach image has an association with quite an intriguing story that will have a natural accessible appeal to audiences of all ages,î said senior associate curator Ann Yonemura. A recurring theme throughout the works is ìTale of Genji,î a sto ry written by Lady Murasaki Shikibu that is as familiar to the Japanese as Shakespeareís plays are to the British. Known for being the oldest novel in the world, the 11th-century Japanese narrative recounts the romantic and tragic escapades of Prince Genji, which are depicted on the pieces throughout the collection, including several of the folding screens on display. Drawn with opaque paints and plenty of gold detailing, some of the paper screens are composed in a formal storytelling style that was often used to capture the publicís attention and strike intellectual conversations. Painted from a ìcrowís perspective,î the artists blow away rooftops to allow the audience to peek in on Prince Genji as he spies on a princess. But in accordance to nature, not all can be seen from one perspective: Gold clouds strategically omit certain scenes, setting an air of secrecy throughout the artwork. In contrast, the quieter, monochromatic screens across from the embellished gold pieces are less striking but depict the same tale, only in a different fashion. Originally designed for private use, each one of the simple ink-on-paper screens represents a particular scene from the Genji tale, but each of the four individual panels portrays simple vignettes, whether it is of two cranes flying in the horizon or a comical exchange between two travelers in the tale, with each panel evoking a certain mood. ìPeople would display a single hanging scroll or hand scroll to look at or put up a screen for a personís visit to set a mood for the visit,î Yonemura said. Artwork inspired by the ìTale of Genjiî would strike up conversations among gatherers ìand set a tone for the occasion Ö many of the Genji screens are not only beautiful, but tell romantic stories.î The tales about Genjiís passionate adventures in and out of the Japanese imperial court was so well known in Japanese society that the stories transcended traditional art forms, and the memorable characters could be seen on kimonos and games in the 18th century. Parodies were even made of the familiar events. In ìParody of a Scene From the Tale of Genji,î the scroll painting alludes to a critical moment in the story when during a game of kickball, a screen between a room and the yard accidentally parts, allowing Genjiís rival to see the princeís wife. From that brief glance, adultery, and ultimately tragedy, ensue between the two characters. Although the scrollís subjects are 19th-century female courtesans, rather than 10th-century princesses and imperial courtiers, particular elementsóthe cherry blossoms in the background, the kickball game, the woman behind the parted screenómake it an unmistakable reflection of the 11,000-year-old Genji tale. However, the original story of Prince Genji was not always so widespread. The tale was closed knowledge for those outside of the imperial courts when it was first written, but after many years, the story percolated through common society and rose to infamy. With the rise of basic literacy and inexpensive woodblock prints during the Edo Period (1615-1868), commoners could purchase high-quality but inexpensive illustrated books such as ìTale of Genji.î ì[Most] people could read phonetic characters but couldnít read a lot, so woodblock prints were intended to reach a wider audience that wasnít fully literate,î Yonemura said. ìIt was common to have a whole story told on a block, with a mixed form of writing in alphabet.î The books were commercialized and sold on local bookstalls, so ìif you had the money, you could buy it. It was not about who you were,î Yonemura added. But despite the widespread availability of these inexpensive books, elaborate pieces of artwork depicting literature and history still flourished among the wealthy. Hand scrolls required abundant timeóand moneyóto paint, especially because there was no limit to the length of the scroll. The scrolls were meant to be held in the viewersí hands and were continuously rolled to expose new elements of the same scene, giving it an early cinematic quality comparable to the popularity and visual creativity of contemporary Japanese animation, Yonemura said. ìThereíd be a passage of time as you roll through the scroll, so new passages would be revealed to you,î she said. ìIt was possible to move down from one scene to see a sequence of events.î Based on a historical battle that toppled one of the powerful Japanese leaders in 1575, ìThe Battle of Nagashinoî opens with a quiet view of the castle and closes with a distant view of a setting sun, but because the compact painting is so long, it is divided into two scrolls in the exhibit. Nevertheless, the one battle scene that is displayed offers visitors a taste of the complex and minute details of the original piece, with each panel on the soldiersí armor as carefully painted as the vibrant rolling hillsides and storming red battle scenes. ìTales and Legends in Japanese Artî runs through Jan. 4 at the Freer Gallery of Art, 12th Street and Independence Avenue, SW. For more information, please call (202) 357-2700 or visit www.asia.si.edu. Jessica Shyu is an editorial intern for The Washington Diplomat.