A Wonderful Old Bonsan
A detailed description of an old Edo period Mt. Fuji Stone
By Thomas S. Elias, May, 2024
Finding a viewing stone that has been in the possession of many collectors and is intimately linked with a country’s culture is rare. When I first saw this old Japanese-style string-tied storage box on the table, I knew then I was in for a revelation. Many of my stone-loving colleagues search rivers, mountains, beaches, and wind-blown desert areas for unusual stones that evoke feelings of something greater than a rock. For me, searching for a good stone is a voyage of discovery. I prefer to search for older stones that have been in people’s collections for generations and have a story to tell. My discovery voyages take me to antique shops and like-minded collectors in search of beautiful stones bursting with stories of their journeys. I am fortunate to have a small but special international cadre of serious collectors of viewing stones where we can sequester in a quiet room and enjoy viewing and discussing the features of exceptional stones. Over the years, I initially have had to prove to my friends my sincerity and commitment to the serious study of Japanese suiseki. Only then was I shown the best stones in their collections. This was one of those occasions.
I could hold this slightly stained box in one hand. Since it was light, I knew there was a small rock inside. It was not a modern Japanese
kiribako made from the wood of the Paulownia tree. The outer box was not that old based on its appearance and the method by which it was constructed. As I slid the box lid upwards, I saw this was an outer box. A much older box lay cradled meticulously inside the walls of the outer box. My expectations soared!
This smaller, dark-stained box was constructed using the tongue and groove method with the addition of small dowel pieces. Its quality clearly indicates a precious object lies inside. The five-character writing on the top of this inner box translates as “Small bonsan Fuji.” Further, writing is present on the bottom of the inner box. This message is “Purchased this in the middle of June, Hirose Jiheiji.” An old piece of paper was placed in the inner box with the following text: “Hirose Jiheiji is a descendant of Hirose Tanso. Tanso was a neo-Confucian scholar and a friend of Rai Sanyo. Tanso was born in 1782, and he passed in 1856.”
If this information is accurate, then this stone can be traced back to the late Edo Period or the early 1800s. In eager anticipation, I lifted the top closing lid from the inner box to expose a frayed, old silk
shifuku, a handmade cloth covering the stone. It was a four-part cloth that folded over the stone and secured with string ties. Whoever made this
shifuku for this stone treated it with great respect, even adoration. The cloth is old and worn. It exudes the Japanese Wabi/Sabi aesthetic.
I watched with eager anticipation as the strings were untied and the four flaps of the cloth unfolded. Inside was a magnificent small bonsan that shouted, “Mt. Fuji”! This was made by a craftsman nearly 200 years ago. I held it gingerly in my hands as I examined all sides of this stone. This slow, deliberate unveiling generated an aura of excitement. The extraordinary treatment of this tiny stone immediately triggered questions in my mind: Why is this stone so special, and what is its significance?
All of the evidence—box writing, box type, enclosed written information, and the appearance of the shifu and the stone—points to a suiseki that has been in a collection for several generations. The word “Bonsan” was used for viewing stones in Japan until the term “suiseki” came into use in the Meiji period.
This triangular-shaped rock is 9.8 cm wide at its base, 5 cm high, 4 cm deep at its widest point, and weighs 195 grams. It appears to me to be carved or shaped from a slightly larger black rock with a thin, whitish quartz or calcite lens. The bottom of the stone appears natural but may have been altered to allow it to sit upright.
I believe this stone may have been used to create a temporary landscape on a black lacquer tray using different-sized small stones and white sand. This art, bonseki, was popular in the Edo and Meiji periods. This triangular, white-capped rock could have represented Mt. Fuji in the background.
An alternate hypothesis is that this stone was made and sold as a souvenir. During the late Edo, making a journey from the capital was a major undertaking. Climbing Mt. Fuji became a popular pastime in the mid and late Edo (late 1700s and early 1800s. Mt. Fuji was revered as sacred in Japan’s Shinto and Buddhism. As a result, many followers traveled approximately 110 km (about 68 miles) to Mt. Fuji, seeking enlightenment. This was typically a three-day walk to the mountain. A trip from the capital to climb Mt. Fuji and return home usually took eight or nine days.
The artist Hokusai visited Mt. Fuji many times in the late Edo period and made a series of woodblock prints based on his sketches from his trips. He printed his Thirty-six Views of Mt. Fuji between 1830 and 1832. This increased awareness of this classic volcanic cone in many countries, resulting in a substantial increase in the number of foreign visitors wanting to climb Mt. Fuji.
People who made this journey and climbed Mt. Fuji typically want a remembrance of that special occasion. A small enhanced stone resembling this mountain makes an ideal object for this purpose. It is small and lightweight, fits on a desk, and clearly evokes what it represents—Mt. Fuji. Souvenirs are not modern but have existed for centuries. We will never know for certain if this hypothesis can be substantiated unless someone can find a suitable reference in the Japanese travel literature to the use of small bonsan as souvenirs. This discovery process is one of many reasons why people collect and display beautiful and unusual stones.
