Have you ever heard of this? Neither had I, until I recently visited the Indianapolis Museum of Art and stopped in their store. Tatebanko (or Kumiag-e) is the Japanese art of creating scenic paper dioramas. They were popular from the 17th century to the early 20th, and pictured Kabuki theater, historical scenes, and different buildings. The construction pieces were multi-colored and printed as woodblock prints. These original Tatebanko prints are now very rare, and the art form is almost forgotten. But apparently a Japanese company is doing its part to revive the craft, and Tatebanko kits picturing two views of Hokusai’s Mt. Fuji were at the IMA store. As I love to make things, I had to pick one up.
During the past few years I have come to love Asian art. I love the natural subject matter: flowers, fruit, branches, birds, animals, the landscapes with distant misty mountains. I also appreciate the measured composition and sense of balance, where the negative space carries as much weight as the subject matter itself. I think it takes a lot of talent and restraint to utilize a “less is more” approach and yet create something that feels complete. With its careful lines, brushstrokes, and sense of composition, Asian art feels like a meditation.
Yesterday I opened my Tatebanko kit and got started. It included a set of very busy directions (printed in both Japanese and English) yet they were both straightforward and complete. There were also a few helpful photos.
The first step involved cutting out all the pieces, and then all the fold lines had to be scored to create crisp folds.

Once that was done, I began gluing the pieces to the diorama’s base. Everything was numbered. The trickiest part was gluing on the sides, and matching them up to the scenic pieces already on the base. (White school glue dries much quicker than I remember!) The top piece came last, and there it was: my two scenes of Mt. Fuji, one on each side of the box.
I really enjoy projects like this: straightforward construction that requires precision. It’s also a kind of meditation in itself, with cutting things out, folding, gluing, and having the reward of the finished product at the end. I had a good time, and appreciated having learned something new. At the bottom of the instruction sheet was printed, “With sincerity and great respect to KATSUSHIKA HOKUSAI”. Yes indeed!

“As you gaze upon this exquisite painting you get a carefree feeling, large enough to make you leap in the air. This extraordinary painting would cheer up even the gloomiest person.” - Hana
“…I imagined myself in a huge field (like the field you can see in the back of the butterfly) with all my friends and loved one(s) and no stress was around use [sic] and no worries just a beautiful field to run around in.” - Alora
This December finds me at home for the whole month. Having undergone a necessary surgery the Monday after Thanksgiving, for the past two and a half weeks I’ve been resting and recuperating, and at this point am doing pretty well. But, as I’m not supposed to do any lifting for several weeks, I’ve had to take the month off of work at the shop. I guess this is my silver lining: a break from the stress and commitment of the dayjob, and time in which to relax and enjoy the Christmas season. (Though as I’m not driving yet, my holiday shopping has truly suffered. Sorry, family!) My husband and I are referring to this time off as my “sabbatical”.







