COVER STORY
TANSU
~Traditional appeal for contemporary lifestyles~
Japanese building space has been at a premium for many centuries; much of the country is mountainous and the best, most spacious plots were always restricted to the use of the rich and powerful. This meant that traditional homes had very restricted interior and exterior space and were constructed without foundations, basements or cellars. To allow the rooms to be used for a multiplicity of purposes, they tended to be left uncluttered. As Basil Chamberlain wrote at the end of the 19th century, “Japanese furniture is conspicuous by its absence.” And yet, over the centuries, some highly functional and beautiful pieces of furniture emerged from the hands of Japanese craftsmen: the chests, boxes, safes and chests of drawers usually joined without nails or glue that are collectively known as tansu .
Simplicity of form, linear design, a restrained decorative style, utility and mobility—these constitute the main factors that determined the design fundamentals of the tansu , making them simple, attractive, and highly convenient pieces of furniture that could easily be used in interiors dominated by empty space—properties that are relevant to our modern interiors.
The name game
The history of tansu is indicated by their rather strange name. In fact, the name has changed over the centuries. It began as the Chinese word danzi , which referred to any kind of baggage that could be transported hung on both ends of a long pole carried on the shoulder of one man. As with so many elements of traditional Japanese culture, the roots are to be found across the sea in China. During the fifth century, various tools and techniques arrived from China that facilitated the manufacture of wooden trunks and shelving that copied Chinese furniture. The trunks were used for the storing of clothing, armor, tools, and all kinds of household items. They were only for the use of the court and the aristocracy.
That seems to have been the way things stood for around one millennium. By the Azuchi-Momoyama period of the late 16th century, mobile pieces of furniture were called tansu: They were mostly used for the transport of weapons and tea ceremony equipment. So now we can see that mobility was of the essence for anything referred to as a tansu . What we know as tansu today are chests that can be moved around according to changing circumstances—versatile and movable, just like other elements of a Japanese interior such as removable screens and doors.
During the Edo period (1603-1868), when Japan was largely cut off from the outside world, the increase in the number of castle towns and the enforced mobility of local lords contributed to the creation of thriving local economies. But the realities of Japanese city life would influence the history of the tansu . They greatly contributed to the chaos and number of fatalities during the Great Fire in Edo (Tokyo) of 1657. The narrow streets, mostly unpaved, were suddenly filled with thousands of kuruma-dansu (wheeled chests) to create a massive furniture jam—with disastrous results. The authorities responded by banning them from the major cities of Edo, Osaka and Kyoto. From that moment, all tansu , or parts of a tansu , had to be designed to be carried by two men on a pole that slipped through metal fittings on the top.
One of the great peaks of Japanese art and craft history took place in the mid-Edo period. Tansu became bigger and fancier and design variety entered the scene. They began being fitted with drawers and complicated locks; they functioned as stairs, cupboards, clothes chests, kitchen storage, safes, sword display cases, and for the storage of confidential mercantile and ship documents.
Design by necessity
In the crowded urban centers of the Edo period, the only logical way to expand your wooden home was upwards. But building restrictions were severe, partly because of the ever-present danger of fire, and it was generally forbidden for ordinary citizens to have a second story. The kaidan-dansu (step chest) was developed to avoid the law: it provided a mobile staircase to the second level under the roof. It was constructed of three separate pieces and could easily be disguised when needed. Today, the kaidan-dansu appears as a very powerful visual architectural element, but to Edo city residents it was furniture created by necessity. The cupboards underneath were useful for storing household bits and pieces.
By the mid-19th century, the feudal system was breaking up and gradually being replaced by the democratization that accompanied the Meiji period (1868-1912). Japanese furniture experienced a golden age. The abolition of the supreme power of the samurai and much fairer fiscal policies enabled commoners to live more decorously. They were no longer afraid to display their possessions, and furniture and various other decorative objects began to proliferate. The majority of the pieces found on the antiques market today date back to this period.
Mobility
Tansu is primarily a storage unit designed to meet the needs of traditional Japanese lifestyles. The drawers were included because it was important to store kimono—which fold up into a rectangular shape—in flat drawers made of absorbent wood, such as paulownia, that would resist the humidity and mold of the Japanese summer. According to Morse, tansu were often designed to fit inside the closets with sliding doors that are still a feature of most Japanese-style rooms. In other words, they were often not visible.
But the utilitarian nature of the tansu does not betray the Japanese canon of Beauty. Generally speaking, old tansu were made from light woods, such as cedar, cypress or highly-prized paulownia. More ornamental and heavier woods, such as cherry, chestnut, persimmon and zelkova, were frequently applied only to the front panel. This was coated with clear lacquer to allow the grain of the wood to show through or covered with thick opaque lacquer. In the case of paulownia, the wood was often left in its natural state.
Large tansu resembling cupboards—combining drawers with compartments fitted with small sliding doors—tend to consist of two or three modules, each one fitted with side handles to facilitate transport. The handles were there to make it easier to run outside with tansu containing important documents and heirlooms in the event of a fire, typhoon or earthquake.
In the early 1860s, Sir Ernest Satow lost everything in a fire in Yokohama. He mentions his tansu in his book A Diplomat in Japan :
“Some friends plunged into the house and reappeared, some with books, some with half a chest of drawers... There were plenty of pilferers about, whom, under the pretext of helping, carried off chests full of clothing that I never saw again.”
Going international
The Meiji Japanese were busy absorbing all manner of Western technology and f ashions and the eclecticism of the period is reflected in the greater freedom of design apparent in both arts and crafts. They were exhilarating days. As Japan opened up to the rest of the world and began to participate in international fairs in Europe and the USA, some tansu began to function as trunks for international travel, packed with fine ceramics, lacquerware, ivory carvings, and textiles. Many of the items were wrapped in what today would be the most valuable wrapping paper ever used: woodblock prints! The wealth of Japanese design proved to be an invigorating force in the 19th century Western capitals. The cult of Japonism —a love affair between Japan and the West that has gone ever since—became a genre in itself. We can even perceive the influence of the same structural concepts that determined the style of the tansu in the pioneer works of Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Frank Lloyd Wright.The Japanese aesthetic, built on the belief that we should feel connected to our natural environment is characterized by effortless grace, sensitivity to space, and a soothing harmony. Perhaps it's the sum of these factors what gives Japanese tansu its timeless appeal.
