Yokoyama Taikan (1868-1958), Pine Trees and Cranes. Pair of six-panel screens. Ink, color, gold and gold leaf on paper. 67 x 151 1/8in. (170.2 x 383.9cm.) each (2) Estimate: $150,000-200,000. Sold for: $267,750 in the Japanese and Korean Art sale on 20 March 2013 at Christie’s New York. Photo: Christie's Image Ltd 2016

Introduced from China in the 8th century, Japanese screens (byōbu) have been prized in both secular and sacred contexts for centuries. Matthew McKelway, Professor of Japanese Art History at Columbia University, offers an expert overview.

Japanese screens represent supreme decoration as well as an aesthetic response to the beauties of nature. ‘What’s interesting in the development of screen paintings,’ says Matthew McKelway, Takeo and Itsuko Atsumi Professor of Japanese Art History at Columbia University, ‘is that we see a really broad variation of themes early on, so while some of the earliest literary accounts seem to describe native landscapes — rounded green hills, cherry blossoms, maple leaves and seasonal flowers — by the late medieval period we have examples that include human figures and narratives.’

Production continued into the 16th century and beyond, with the screens becoming increasingly varied in subject matter and style.

In the early modern period — the 17th century and after — members of the merchant class began collecting screens. Many beautiful examples are held in Buddhist temples, some commissioned by the temples and others donated by patrons. 

Today, gilded screens are still produced and used on special occasions such as award ceremonies and weddings. 

When do screens date from?

Among the earliest screen paintings in East Asia are examples in lacquer on wood from Six Dynasties China. The earliest complete extant example in Japan, explains Professor McKelway, is from the temple Tōji in Kyoto, depicting a ‘Chinese recluse in a landscape with brilliant green pigments for the mountains.

A pair of six-fold screens with bamboo, Edo period (18th century). Ink, colour and gold leaf on paper. 67 1/10 x 148 2/5 in. (170.5 cm x 377 cm). Estimate: £70,000-90,000. This work is offered in the Fine Japanese Works of Art sale on 9 November 2016, at Christie’s London. Photo: Christie's Image Ltd 2016

What were they used for?

Screens were used as diplomatic gifts: ‘They were sent in considerable numbers to China and also to Korea from the late medieval period onward,’ comments McKelway.

The subject of the screen paintings could often be interpreted as a message to the recipient: ‘It’s interesting, considering they invaded twice in the 16th century, that 17th century inventories describe images of Japanese warrior stories on diplomatic gifts to Korea.’

Japanese screens also played an important part in the sacred setting of Shinto and Buddhist temples. ‘The concept of shōgon is a décor used in the temple context to heighten and intensify the atmosphere for rituals,’ the professor explains. ‘The term encompasses the whole ensemble, from painted images and incredibly intricate silk borders on paintings to beautiful gilded incense burners and the like.’

‘We know that [screens] were set up for official visits by the Shogun to the mansions and castles of his vassals,’ McKelway continues.

Yokoyama Taikan (1868-1958), Pine Trees and Cranes. Pair of six-panel screens. Ink, color, gold and gold leaf on paper. 67 x 151 1/8in. (170.2 x 383.9cm.) each (2) Estimate: $150,000-200,000. Sold for: $267,750 in the Japanese and Korean Art sale on 20 March 2013 at Christie’s New York. Photo: Christie's Image Ltd 2016

They were also used in other contexts, such as funerals and the births of very high-ranking members of the aristocracy. The latter, says the expert, are ‘completely white or white with white imagery like cranes or egrets painted on them.’

Did screens contain popular narratives or themes?

Screens often depicted images from the Tale of Genji, the classic work of Japanese literature written in the early years of the 11th century. Others, such as those given as a dowry for a young wife, might contain an underlying message, such as direction on how to behave in a court setting.

Who were the leading screen painters?

Although many of the screens are not signed, there are some famous names that stand out in the inventories of the past for their innovation and skill. ‘Hasegawa Tōhaku — to whom this pair of screens of the Uji River is attributed — was attempting to do very different things with composition and materials to his competitors in the Kano school, for example,’ says McKelway. 

Attributed to Hasegawa Tohaku (1539-1610), Willows and Uji River. Pair of six-panel screens. Ink, colour, gold, silver and gold leaf on paper. 62 ¾ x 139 ½ in. (159.4 x 354.3 cm.) each. Estimate: $600,000-800,000. Sold for $605,000 in Inquiring Mind: American Collecting of Japanese and Korean Art on 22 April 2015 at Christie’s New York. Photo: Christie's Image Ltd 2016

Around the 17th and 18th centuries, the artist’s hand began to be prized as much as the subject or material and, just as in the West, the individual’s work was often preferred to that of the studio.

Further important names from this period include Maruyama Ōkyo, Nagasawa Rosetsu, Soga Shōhaku and Kishi Ganku. Yosa Buson, who was equally renowned as a haiku poet, is known to have established a lottery system in order to raise funds for the finest materials, such as silk satin. 

Anonymous (17th century), Court carriages and maple trees. Six-panel screen. Ink, colour, gold and gold leaf on paper. 61 5/8 x 137 ½ in. (156.7 x 349.3 cm.) Estimate: $30,000-40,000. This work is offered in An Inquiring Mind: American Collecting of Japanese and Korean Art on 15 April at Christie’s New York. 

What can we tell from signatures and seals?

Signatures and seals began to appear on the screens in around the 16th century. ‘An older, established painter who led a big atelier producing for a younger patron might enter his name in the lower corners of a pair of screens,’ Professor McKelway notes. The seals, meanwhile, more commonly appear to indicate studio production.

A lack of signature can also be revealing: ‘It could depend on the status of the patron,’ explains the professor. ‘If an artist were painting a screen for the shogun he might not want to be so bold as to put his name on it.’

How did production evolve and develop over time? 

As with the gilded or painted altarpieces of the West, there was a marked difference in materials from commission to commission. In the 16th century, for example, we see a growing preference for extensive application of metal foils, particularly gold. 

Anonymous, Edo Period (18th century), Cranes and Pine. Six-fold screen. Estimate: £5,000-8,000. Sold for £12,500 in the Refined Beauty: Japanese Art of the Edo Period online auction, 14-28 July 2015. 

Changes in Japan, such as national unification in the late 16th century, led to an advancement of technique. ‘The late Momoyama period is considered by art historians to be the period of major compositional innovation,’ says McKelway. ‘By the end of the 16th century, greater political stability contributed to urban development and increasing competition amongst painting studios.’

From the late 17th and on into the 18th and 19th centuries, the breadth of patronage for works of art widened considerably, explains Professor McKelway. ‘Cities like Kyoto, Osaka, Nagoya and Edo were growing exponentially, flourishing on the base of the very solid merchant class and craftsmen who created an enormous basis of consumerism.’

This new consumerism was conspicuously displayed every year at the traditional Gion festival in Kyoto, when screens and other treasures were taken out and put on display. This was unusual within Japanese culture, with its emphasis on discretion and strict social mores.

Anonymous (17th century), Stable with fine horses. Twelve paintings mounted as a pair of six-panel screens. Ink, colour and gold flecks on paper 52 x 19 ¾ in. (132.1 x 5.2 cm.) each approx. Estimate: $60,000-80,000. This work is offered in An Inquiring Mind: American Collecting of Japanese and Korean Art on 15 April at Christie’s New York. 

How did Japanese screens influence western art?

‘The first known Japanese folding screen to have been sent to the West was part of a Japanese diplomatic mission to Spain, Portugal and eventually Rome in the 1580s,’ explains the expert. Due to their delicacy and rarity these gifts were not widely proliferated, in the same way as, say, traditional fans or Chinese export porcelain.

Japanese screens, however, can be seen in the work of western artists such as Whistler, Manet and the Impressionists in the 19th century, a period in which they began to be acquired by museums and major collections.

Are they difficult to maintain?

Like any work of art, screen paintings require a great deal of care in order to be kept in good condition. For example, they should not be put up on a wall because the hinges will start to strain, which will damage the interior framework and cause tears on the painting surface.

Mori Kansai (1814-1894), Rabbits, 1881. Two-panel screen. Ink, colour and gold leaf on paper. 65¼ x 72¼in. (165.7 x 183.2cm.) Estimate: $8,000-10,000. Sold for $11,875 at the Japanese and Korean Art sale on 18 September 2013 at Christie’s New York. 

Temperature and humidity are also extremely important considerations: ‘Screens have to be kept in conditions like those in their place of origin,’ advises McKelway. 

What should a new collector look out for?

Although the professor advises that one should always follow personal taste, there are important things to look out for when buying Japanese screens. These include rarity, the quality of the painting and materials, the composition or theme and the condition.

‘The appearance of the artist’s name might be significant but because so many works were not signed it becomes important to look at the works simply for the power of the imagery, craftsmanship, the command of the medium and so forth,’ McKelway says. ‘My sense is that screen paintings are still a real bargain, especially in comparison to some of the household names in western and contemporary art.’

Matthew McKelway, Professor of Japanese Art History at Columbia University © Christies 2016