Introduction

Many sculptors of the Kamakura period, in particular those trained in Nara, were devout Buddhists and often had close associations with members of the monastic community. For example, Unkei 運慶 (d. 1223), responsible for refurbishing many statues at Kōfukuji 興福寺 and Tōdaiji 東大寺 that had perished in the fires of 1180, used the title “monk” (sō 僧) by 1183, and at the end of his life had a close relationship with Myōe 明恵 (1173–1232), known for his acceptance of a range of Buddhist teachings, particularly those of the Kegon sect. Kaikei 快慶 (d. 1227), who worked closely with Unkei on the restorations, established strong ties with Shunjōbō Chōgen 俊乗房重源 (1121–1206), the monk responsible for directing the reconstruction of Tōdaiji. He shared Chōgen’s devotion to Amida (Skt. Amitābha), received the religious name An’Amidatbutsu 安阿弥陀仏from him, and after Chōgen’s death produced images for the rapidly expanding Pure Land community. Zenkei 善慶 (also known as Zen’en; 1197–1258) formed an equally close relationship with Eison 叡尊 (1201–1290), who followed Shingon teachings and also placed particular emphasis on the conferral and maintenance of the monastic precepts believed to have been established by Śākyamuni. During the latter part of his career Zenkei established an atelier on the grounds of Saidaiji (西大寺), the temple that served as the headquarters of Eison’s religious community, and produced images at the direction of the monk. Such associations existed not only between the best-known sculptors and prelates, but for other artists whose careers are known primarily through inscriptions on the statues they carved.

The close relationship that existed between these sculptors and their religious patrons meant that the artists would often maintain Buddhist precepts for the duration of the projects. Moreover, on many occasions they would participate in rituals to consecrate the wood for their statues before they began to work. While most of the timbers used for images sculpted during the Kamakura period were newly hewn, a small number were fashioned from wood that had originally been used or prepared for other purposes—temple halls and Shinto shrines. This type of creative repurposing did not occur with great frequency, but it happened often enough during the Kamakura period, as did the repurposing of other Buddhist materials, the subject of this issue, to warrant attention. As argued in this article, the meaningful repurposing of used wood had the capacity to connect past monuments, artists, and religious communities with new projects through the consistency of the original materials in their altered and reframed state, a subject also examined in Halle O’Neal’s article. While the artists who made such images are less well known than Unkei, Kaikei, and Zenkei, their works shed light on the relationship between the Buddhist sculptor and his material, and how old, historically important timbers could be refashioned to serve new purposes within religious communities substantially different from those of the buildings in which they were first used. The best-documented case of such repurposing was done by the sculptor Kaijō 快成 (b. 1226) for the monk Jakuchō 寂澄 (b. 1210).

In the third month of 1256, Master Sculptor Kaijō and two of his assistants, Kaison 快尊 (n.d.) and Kaiben 快弁 (n.d.), began work on two images, a diminutive seated Aizen 愛染明王 (figs. 1, 2), the Esoteric Wisdom King of Lust, and a standing Jizō 地蔵菩薩 (figs. 3, 4), the Bodhisattva of the Earth Matrix (Skt. Kśitigarbha). They sculpted the images at the Kedai-in 華台院, a sub-temple of a larger monastery, Zuiganji 随願寺. While the location of Zuiganji, north of Nara near the border of Kyoto and Nara Prefectures, has been identified, practically nothing else is known about the temple.¹ The history of the two statues is also little known—the inscriptions on their pedestals provide the only information about them. Today, the Aizen is part of the permanent collection of the Nara National Museum, but its history is unknown prior to its purchase by the Ministry of Cultural Affairs in 1975.² The statue of Jizō is owned by Shungakuji 春覚寺, a small temple at the western edge of Nara Prefecture, on the main route that linked the Nara basin to the sacred shrines at Ise, but it has been on loan to the Nara National Museum since 1967. According to an inscription on the pedestal, the pedestal itself, the wish-granting jewel the bodhisattva holds in its left hand, and the hands were restored in 1625, at which time the statue was kept at Jōdoji 浄土寺, a neighboring temple no longer extant.³

Fig. 1.

Fig. 1.

Kaijō. Aizen, dated 1256 (Kenchō 8). Wood with polychrome and kirikane, rock-crystal eyes; h. 26.2 cm. Nara National Museum. Photograph courtesy of the Nara National Museum

Fig. 2.

Fig. 2.

Face of the Aizen dated 1256 (Kenchō 8) (fig. 1)

Fig. 3.

Fig. 3.

Kaijō. Jizō, dated 1256 (Kōgen 1), Shungakuji, Nara Prefecture. Wood with polychrome and kirikane, rock-crystal eyes; h. 79.3 cm. Photograph courtesy of Shungakuji

Fig. 4.

Fig. 4.

Face of the Jizō dated 1256 (Kōgen 1) (fig. 3)

The Aizen, fashioned from a block of Japanese cypress that was split and then hollowed, conforms to the appearance of the deity as described in the “Aizen-ō” chapter in the first fascicle of the Kongō hōrōkaku issai yuga yugi-kyō 金剛峯楼閣一切瑜伽瑜祇経, the primary sutra associated with the deity.⁴ The body of the wrathful three-eyed, six-armed Wisdom King is colored bright red, sits cross-legged on a lotiform pedestal, and wears a lion crown. It holds a lotus, ritual implements, and weapons in five of its hands; the sixth is a closed fist. Aizen was believed to transform passions and attachments into the aspiration to attain enlightenment. In Japan the deity is most often associated with the Shingon sect and was frequently revered by monks as their personal object of devotion.

Despite the image’s small size, each element is handled with clarity and attention to the smallest detail. The full cheeks and round face give the image a youthful demeanor that tempers the ferocity projected by its knit brows, gold tusks, and focused gaze, intensified by the use of inlaid rock crystal for the eyes. The sculptors ornamented the robe with intricate cut gold-leaf patterns, which along with the polychromy remain intact. Only the five-prong vajra and the vajra-handled bell, held in two of the six hands, are later replacements.

The statue of Jizō was also crafted from a single block of Japanese cypress that was split and then hollowed. It conforms to the standard iconography of the deity across East Asia: a monk holding a staff with six rings at the top in its right hand and a wish-granting jewel in its left. This manifestation of the deity was believed to save those with sincere faith from an endless cycle of birth and rebirth in one of the many Buddhist hells, among other benefits.⁵

The Jizō has fared less well than the Aizen since it was carved in 1256. In addition to the repairs mentioned in the inscription of 1625, the rock-crystal eyes, most of the right sleeve, and part of the left are all replacements, and the polychromy of the flesh is also of a later vintage. In contrast, much of the original cut gold-leaf ornamentation on the monastic robes worn by the bodhisattva—undergarment, priest’s robe, and stole—is preserved. Moreover, the sculptors took great care to distinguish the interior and exterior surfaces of each garment by applying different patterns.

Similar to that of the statue of Aizen, the head is round and the cheeks are full, giving the bodhisattva a youthful appearance. The eyes are only slightly open, conveying the impression that the deity is absorbed in thought. Kaijō was certainly familiar with the naturalistic modes of figuration adopted by his predecessors in Nara, artists such as Unkei and Kaikei. This legacy is most notable in the proportions of both works and in the handling of the drapery. On the Jizō it is particularly apparent in the treatment of the robes immediately below the chest. Where the stole and the priest’s robe are tucked into the undergarment, Kaijō created a series of complex folds and pleats revealing both sides of the cloth. In addition, he varied the folds of the priest’s robe below the waist such that each traces a slightly different arc.

Little is known about the three sculptors. The inscriptions on both the Aizen and the Jizō reveal that all held honorary bureaucratic positions, a standard practice for sculptors who received official commissions; Kaijō also held the honorary rank of Bridge of the Buddhist Law (hokkyō 法橋). This was the lowest of the three titles that originally were awarded to members of the monastic community for scholarly and ecclesiastic accomplishment, but over time were conferred on people outside the religious community for artistic and other more secular achievements.⁶ The inscription on the statue of Jizō gives Kaijō’s age as thirty, which means he would have been born in 1226. The name Kaijō with the same honorary rank appears on two other works: a standing Amida, dated 1242, now at Mangyōji 万行寺 in Fukuoka, and one of a pair of standing Eleven-Headed Kannon 十一面観音, dated 1244, at Nakayamadera 中山寺 in Hyōgō Prefecture.⁷ If they were made by the same person, a view held by both Mōri Hisashi 毛利久 and Yamamoto Tsutomu 山本勉, then Kaijō would have been sixteen when he completed the Amida and eighteen when he completed the Eleven-Headed Kannon.⁸

The Jizō does possess some features, however, that help identify connections between Kaijō and other sculptors working in the middle decades of the thirteenth century. For example, the feet were carved individually and slid onto pieces of wood that extend from the base of the statue and are inserted into the pedestal on which the statue stands (fig. 5). The result is that they do not rest flush on the surface, and thus provide an illusion of movement. This technique was used on two statues of Jizō carved in the previous decades by Zenkei.⁹ The technique is also used on the statue of Amida now at Mangyōji in Fukuoka, suggesting that the Kaijō who carved that image was the same as the artist who made the Aizen and Jizō, and that he had some association with Zenkei, a connection that will be explored in greater detail below.

Fig. 5.

Fig. 5.

Feet of the Jizō dated 1256 (Kōgen 1) (fig. 3)

Also distinctive, however, was the decision by Kaijō to shape the pole supporting the mandorla as the stem of a lotus (fig. 6). Such a treatment is known on at least two other Kamakura-period works, one by Kaikei and one by his disciple Eikai 栄快 (n.d.).¹⁰ Kaijō’s adoption of an equally distinctive feature used by Kaikei and his successor for the mandola, and the use of the character kai 快 in his name, make a connection with the lineage of Kaikei also plausible.¹¹

Fig. 6.

Fig. 6.

Mandorla of the Jizō dated 1256 (Kōgen 1) (fig. 3)

Kaijō had two other collaborators on the project. The inscription on the Jizō also relates that the statue was originally housed in a feretory with paintings in ink (either the underdrawings or the contour lines) by Kaichi 快智 (n.d.), the son of the influential early Kamakura-period painter Sonchi 尊智 (n.d.); and ones in color by Chōmyō 朝命 (n.d.), Sonchi’s disciple. Kaichi and Chōmyō were both members of the Shōnan-in painting atelier on the grounds of Kōfukuji.¹² Their participation indicates that Jakuchō was able to seek out some of the painters most influential in Nara at the time for the image, and suggests that Kaijō must have been held in high regard as well.

A bit more is known about Jakuchō, who according to the inscriptions was forty-seven when the statues were carved. In both he is identified as “a disciple of the Buddha of the Vajra World” (kongō busshi 金剛仏子). This appellation was also used by Eison and indicates that both monks had received initiation in Shingon teachings. Jakuchō was clearly an important member of Eison’s community. In 1248 he received copies of important texts of monastic regulations from Eison, and in the next year he served as one of the ten patrons for the statue of Shaka carved by Zenkei in 1249, a work based upon the famous Chinese image at Seiryōji 清涼寺.¹³ That statue was subsequently installed as the main image of Saidaiji and became one focus of Eison’s religious practice. While no biographical information about Jakuchō is known, the relationship between the two monks must have been quite close, for his name is also included on one of the lists of the members of the religious confraternity that came together to support the portrait of Eison carved in 1280 by Zenkei’s son and successor, Zenshun 善春 (n.d.).¹⁴

Carving the Statues and the Destruction of the Great Buddha Hall at Tōdaiji

Although the inscriptions reveal nothing more about Kaijō and his two assistants, they do provide specific details about how the artists approached the production of the Aizen and the Jizō, and the material from which they were fashioned. The one on the Aizen states that during the twenty-one days it took for the sculptors to make the image they maintained the Eight Pure Precepts.¹⁵ Drawn from the monastic rules followed by monks and nuns, the precepts include sexual abstinence, avoidance of alcohol, and a prohibition on the consumption of food after noon. In the case of the Jizō, the inscription indicates that all the artists engaged in abstinence during the time it took to complete the project. As the historian of Buddhist painting Hirata Yutaka 平田寛 has observed, maintenance of the precepts by artists during the production of paintings and sculptures occurred with great frequency during the middle decades of the Kamakura period, and Kaijō and his group were no exception.¹⁶

In addition, the inscriptions relate that Kaijō did not use new timbers to make the Aizen and the Jizō, but rather repurposed wood taken from the pillars of the Great Buddha Hall at Tōdaiji. In addition, the wood of the Aizen statue is referred to as misogi 御衣木, a term that suggests the material had been specially consecrated before the sculpting began. The passages in the inscriptions that make reference to the source of wood from which the images were fashioned read as follows: “[a piece] cut from a replaced pillar from the façade of the Daibutsu-den 大仏殿 at Tōdaiji,” in the case of the Aizen (fig. 7); and “used all of [a piece] cut from a replaced pillar from the west façade of the Daibutsu-den,” for the Jizō (fig. 8).¹⁷ Neither passage specifically indicates if the pillar was one prepared for the reconstruction of the Great Buddha Hall, completed in 1203, or if it was taken from the remains of one of the pillars fashioned from the great trunks of Japanese cypress from the eighth-century structure that burned in 1180. However, it is most likely Kaijō used wood from the pillars of the lost original.

Fig. 7.

Fig. 7.

Inscription on the Aizen dated 1256 (Kenchō 8) (fig. 1)

Fig. 8.

Fig. 8.

Inscription on the Jizō dated 1256 (Kenchō 8) (fig. 3)

The destruction of the Great Buddha Hall at Tōdaiji and its monumental gilt-bronze statue of the Cosmic Buddha, Vairocana (J. Birushana 毘盧遮那) in the twelfth month of 1180 was one of the most traumatic events in early Japanese history. The compound burned when forces led by Taira no Shigehira 平の重衡 (1156–1185) accidentally set fires as they entered Nara to punish the monks of Kōfukuji, who supported their opponents in the extended conflicts for political control of the country that had begun some twenty years earlier. The Tale of Heike, a later account of the conflict, graphically describes the destruction of Tōdaiji, long considered the symbol of the country’s enduring support of the Buddhist faith:

But now the head of the holy image (Great Buddha)—that face resplendent as a full moon melted and fell to earth, and the body fused into a mountainous heap. Smoke permeated the heavens; flames filled the air below. Those present who witnessed the sight averted their eyes; those afar who heard the story trembled with fear. Of the Hossō and Sanron scriptures and sacred teachings, not a scroll survived. It was impossible to imagine such a devastating blow to the Buddhist faith in India or China, to say nothing of our country.¹⁸

The law of the Buddha and the law of the ruler, instituted for the sake of humanity, have been utterly destroyed. Neither spoken nor written words can describe it. When I heard [of the destruction] my spirit was demolished.¹⁹

Measures were immediately taken by the court to restore the image and rebuild the structure that housed it. By the sixth month of 1181 the courtier Fujiwara no Yukitaka 藤原の行隆 (1130–1187) was appointed to the position of Chief Official for Construction of Tōdaiji, and in the eighth month Chōgen was designated solicitor, in charge of raising funds for the project. The casting of the new image was completed in 1185 but was not dedicated until the hall to house it was finished in 1195.

While it is only possible to speculate, it is hard to imagine that Jakuchō and Kaijō would have provided such specificity of location in the inscriptions for leftover blocks of wood from the timbers used for the new structure. While the Great Buddha Hall rebuilt by Chōgen was most certainly an impressive architectural achievement, its timbers would not have been considered to possess the historical and religious associations of those of the original, commissioned by Emperor Shōmu 聖武天皇 (701–756; r. 724–749) in the mid-eighth century to express imperial support for the Buddhist faith. Moreover, such a choice was not without precedent.

Two other examples shed light on the reuse of wood from the Great Buddha Hall for Buddhist images by Kaijō and Jakuchō. The best-known instance of a Buddhist sculptor repurposing wood was initiated by Unkei; however, it did not involve making a sculpture, but rather two copies of the eight-scroll set of the Lotus Sutra in 1183. As the person who organized the project, Unkei is listed as “Chief Patron, Monk Unkei” 願主僧運慶 implying that by that time he had taken lay-Buddhist vows. He was joined in commissioning the project by “Chief Female Patron” (onna daiseshu 女大施主), most likely his wife, and a child named Akomaro 阿古丸, probably his eldest son, Tankei 湛慶 (1173–1256).²⁰

The inscription at the end of the eighth scroll as well as inscriptions on the rollers of all the scrolls in the set reveal the devastating impact of the destruction of Tōdaiji on Unkei and his fellow sculptors.²¹ The passage is one of the most compelling personal documents describing devotional activities by a sculptor in Japan. From it we learn that Unkei had originally intended to undertake the transcription between 1175 and 1177, but was unable to do so. When he returned to the project in more precarious times and with the Great Buddha Hall lying in ruins, Unkei, his wife, and Akomaro abstained from eating meat and fish, and donned monastic robes prior to preparing the paper for the scrolls themselves. They began that process on the eighth day of the fourth month, the anniversary of the birth of the Historical Buddha, finishing on the twenty-eighth. The next day the copying of two sets of the text began, one by the monk Chinga 珍賀 (n.d.) that remains today and one by the monk Ei’in 栄印 (n.d.) that is now lost.

For the rollers for the scrolls, Unkei used pieces of wood salvaged from the charred timbers of Tōdaiji, a testament to the deep emotional bond he felt with the Nara temple. Each bears an inscription stating that “the wood for the rollers were remnants from a burned pillar at Tōdaiji.”²² It goes on to state that the Great Deity of Kasuga 春日大明神 had appeared in a dream to direct him to use the wood. In the inscription on each of the rollers (as well as in the dedicatory text), the wood is further described as “the most sacred wood among sacred wood,” clear indication of the reverence afforded the Great Buddha Hall among the religious and artistic community in Nara.²³

More than fifty people, monks and laity, aristocrats and commoners, men and women, joined the main religious confraternity that sponsored the transcription. Among them were Kaikei, who would subsequently become deeply involved with the reconstruction of Tōdaiji, and other sculptors who subsequently joined Unkei on his projects. The participants performed triple prostrations and recited the “Treasure Name” (hōgō 宝号) of the Lotus Sutra, and invoked the name of Amida, Lord of the Western Paradise (nenbutsu 念仏), after each line was copied. By the time the two sets of eight rolls were completed and dedicated they had prostrated themselves fifty thousand times, chanted the nenbutsu one hundred thousand times, and recited the Treasure Name one hundred thousand times. While the location of the event is not specified, it likely occurred in Nara, where Unkei and his fellow sculptors resided, with the remains of the Great Buddha and the hall that once housed it nearby.

There are no records of Unkei using wood from the destroyed Great Buddha Hall for a Buddhist image. However, the deeply moving portrait of Shunjōbō Chōgen (fig. 9) carved at the time of his death is universally acknowledged to be by the hand of a Kei school artist, and the sculpture historian Soejima Hiromichi 副島弘道 believes strongly that it was made by Unkei.²⁴ The image was fashioned out of ten pieces of wood using the joined woodblock technique. When the statue was examined in the 1960s, it was discovered that the underside of the block forming the left shoulder was charred.²⁵ Given Chōgen’s connection with Tōdaiji, and the context of the statue as a memorial portrait, it seems likely that this block, and possibly all the wood to make the image, was taken from the remains of timbers from the destroyed Great Buddha Hall.

Fig. 9.

Fig. 9.

Shunjōbō Chōgen (1121–1206), ca. 1206. Wood with polychrome; h. 81.8 cm. Tōdaiji. Photograph courtesy of Tōdaiji

By using the “the most sacred wood among sacred wood” for the sutra rollers, and most probably for at least part of the statue of Chōgen, Unkei was associating both objects with physical material from Shōmu’s creation and ensuring that at least a part of the structure and its historic and religious associations would be passed on to future generations. While Kaijō’s statues were separated from Unkei’s projects by many decades, by using wood remaining from the first Great Buddha Hall, he too embedded the Aizen and the Jizō into a web of religious and historical relationships that went beyond their outer appearance.

Misogi-Consecrated Wood for Buddhist Sculptures

Unkei’s deep commitment to the Buddhist faith is attested not only by the sutra-copying project of 1183, but by the reverence with which he approached the making of images as well. One example is the group of the statues in the North Octagonal Hall of Kōfukuji completed in 1212: the Buddha Miroku 弥勒仏 flanked by images of the Hossō 法相 patriarchs, Asanga (無着 Muchaku), Vasubandhu (世親 Seshin), and the Four Divine Kings. Before Unkei, his two assistants, and his six sons began work on the images, they all donned specially prepared robes for a misogi ritual that was held in the courtyard in front of the hall.²⁶ The etymology of the term, consisting of the enigmatic grouping of characters for garment and wood preceded by one used as an honorific, is obscure; however, it seems likely that it is derived from a homophone with a different character that means “to purify with water.”²⁷ During the Heian and Kamakura periods, misogi was used to refer to wood that would be or had been consecrated before being fashioned into Buddhist images.

Trees had long been considered sacred in the indigenous religious tradition in Japan. As explained by Fabio Rambelli, fashioning them into Buddhist images required ritual and liturgical slights of hand, and he suggests that “the subjugation of local deities by buddhas and bodhisattas was actively and ritually displayed through the felling of trees taken to be ‘sacred.’”²⁸ Perhaps the best-known account of a tree being tamed by transforming it into a Buddhist image is the legend associated with the Eleven-Headed Kannon at Hasedera 長谷寺. Prior to being fashioned into the image, the giant log caused illness and death.²⁹ The misogi ritual can thus be understood as part of the process described by Rambelli, since it transformed ordinary timbers into a sanctified material appropriate for sculpting into Buddhist statues.

One of the earliest identified uses of the term misogi for wood to be made into Buddhist statues appears in the Gonki 権記, the diary of Fujiwara no Yukinari 藤原の行成 (972–1027), courtier, calligrapher, and close confidant of Fujiwara no Michinaga 藤原の道長 (966–1028). He describes an occasion in 999 when he traveled with Acting Priest General Kanshū 権僧正勧修 (945–1008) to the residence of the sculptor Kōjō 康尚 (n.d.), father of Jōchō 定朝 (d. 1057), the artist of the Amida at the Byōdo-in 平等院. Kōjō was preparing to carve statues of the Buddha Dainichi 大日如来 and the bodhisattvas Fugen 普賢菩薩 and Eleven-Headed Kannon, for his private temple in Kyoto, Sesonji 世尊寺. Yukinari writes:

Kōjō first cut the misogi. He [then] revealed the deities and stood the [timbers up]. The Priest General then reverentially stated the essence of the prayers, and added, “There is no deviation from the thought I had in my mind.” Then his disciples took up axes and after they carved the misogi of the three deities, everyone made obeisance.³⁰

Other references to misogi from the eleventh and early twelfth centuries are relatively few in number. They most often are in regard to wood prior to its being made into images. One mentions the payment provided for misogi for statues for Hosshōji 法勝寺, the grand temple built by Emperor Shirakawa 白川天皇 (1053–1129; r. 1073–1087) on the eastern side of Kyoto.³² Another describes the harvesting of trees on an auspicious day to be used as misogi for statues for a pagoda at Kasuga Shrine 春日大社.³³ A third refers to going into the mountains to harvest misogi for the wood that was carved into the seated Amida now housed at Zenmyōji 善明寺 in Shiga Prefecture.³⁴

The term appears with greater frequency in texts and inscriptions from the end of the Heian period and throughout the Kamakura period, and some describe in detail the ritual that transformed ordinary logs into sacred wood. A representative example can be found in the Sankaiki 山槐記, the diary of the courtier Nakayama no Tadachika 中山の忠親 (1131–1195).³⁵ In the tenth month of 1178, the logs for a set of Six Kannon were consecrated at the palace of the retired empress. Myōen 明円 (d. 1199), the head of the En school and the most influential sculptor in the capital at the time, was in charge of the project. Dressed in sanctified garments and a purple monk’s robe (kesa 袈裟), Myōen, assisted by five disciples, first laid out the logs on straw mats in the south veranda. The sculptors were then joined by the eminent Shingon prelate Kakujō 覚成 (1126–1198), who presided over the ritual. Once concluded, Myōen drew images of the deities on the logs and then took up an axe and lowered it three times on each of them. He then performed some carving on the now-consecrated log that would become the Eleven-Headed Kannon, and his five assistants did the same for the other images. When they were finished, all departed and the misogi were set up on the east altar of the Jōkō-in 常光院, a chapel within the palace.

Tadachika’s description of the ritual of 1178 that transformed sawed timbers into numinous pieces of wood suitable for Buddhist images follows the oldest recorded version of the misogi liturgy, the Order of Service for Misogi Rituals (On Misogi kaji sahō 御衣木加持作法), dating to the thirteenth century.³⁶ Clearly by this time the misogi ritual was held with enough frequency to warrant some attempt at standardization. The liturgy and added commentary include numerous details. These are the most salient features.

Three days before the ritual takes place, the sculptor is obliged to abstain from eating meat and fish. If the sculptor is a layperson, then he must receive the Eight Pure Precepts. If the sculptor has already taken religious vows, then he should be asked if he has received the Ten Major Precepts of the Bonmō-kyō 梵網経, the most important of the Mahayana precepts, and if he has not, he must receive them.³⁷ In either case, while making the image, the sculptor must not violate these prescriptions.

Once the logs are harvested, they must be delivered to the site of the ritual at the hour of the tiger (3:00–5:00 a.m.), at which time they should be purified with sacred water. After the ritual space is prepared, the logs are lined up. Then the sculptor washes them with perfumed water, removes the bark, and places them on a specially constructed altar.

The service is conducted by a Ritual Master (jushi 呪師). Once it begins the sculptor sprinkles the wood, carving tools, and ax with sake to purify them. Following chanting of the mantra of the deity to be fashioned from the timbers, the sculptor writes the Sanskrit seed character on one near the location of what will become the statue’s chest. After a sequence of invocations, offerings, and chants, the sculptor first ceremonially lowers his ax on a timber and begins carving. When finished the sculptor then takes the consecrated wood and departs. The ritual master offers more prayers and incantations, and then the ritual concludes.

According to the commentary, if the image is to be made in a single day, then the ritual master intones chants and burns incense without stopping until the sculptor is done. If the carving is to take many days, then these actions take place before the sculptor begins, and offerings are made after he finishes. The misogi is just the first in a series of practices to sanctify an image and keep it ritually efficacious. A number of these, including consecration and rededication, are described in detail in Benedetta Lomi’s article in this issue.

The descriptions in the Gonki and the Sankaiki generally follow the sequence described in the text of the Order of Service for Misogi Rituals, the main difference being that both Kōjō and Myōen drew images of the deities on the logs, rather than only writing the seed characters. Drawing on the timbers must have been common practice. For example, in the depiction of the ritual in the second scroll of a Muromachi-period version of the Hasedera engi emaki 長谷寺縁起絵巻, the illustrated version of the Hasedera legend, the presiding monk is depicted having just finished sketching an image of the deity on two logs.³⁸

Confirmation that this procedure was at times closely followed is provided by a board with an image of the head and chest of the deity simply sketched in ink found inside the late twelfth-century statue of the Eleven-Headed Kannon at Seikōji 誓光寺 in Kōka City, Shiga Prefecture (figs. 10, 11).³⁹ Careful observation reveals a series of curved chisel marks along the brushstrokes delineating the contours of the face, the facial features, and the additional heads in the crown, as well as three horizonal cuts on the neck and chest. The anonymous sculptor made the image manifest through a brush. The ceremonial lowering of an ax and symbolic carving of the image together sanctified the wood. This piece of wood with its drawing also implies that for other than the smallest images, it is likely that one piece of wood was used to represent the entire image in the ritual.

Fig. 10.

Fig. 10.

Eleven-Headed Kannon, 12th century. Wood with gold leaf; h. 104.9 cm. Seikōji, Shiga Prefecture. Photography courtesy of Seikōji

Fig. 11.

Fig. 11.

Plaque with drawing of Eleven-Headed Kannon found inside the Eleven-Headed Kannon at Seikōji (fig. 10)

For statues to be fashioned from new wood, such as the Eleven-Headed Kannon at Seikōji, the wood had to be consecrated before the carving could begin. Both the Order of Service for Misogi Rituals and many of the textual references to the term from the Heian and Kamakura periods, including the ones cited above, stress the importance of harvesting new wood, often from sacred locations, for statues.⁴⁰ In the case of the two statues carved by Kaijō, the wood was different in a fundamental way since it had been recycled from the Great Buddha Hall. Nevertheless, the inscription on the Aizen refers to the wood as misogi.⁴¹ Whether Kaijō and Jakuchō held a misogi ritual is unknown, although Washizuka Hiromitsu 鷲塚泰光 believes they did so.⁴² In either event, the sculptor and his patron would likely have considered the material sacred and powerful because of its previous status as part of the most influential temple to have been built in Japan. The three sculptors did follow at least one of the prescriptions of the misogi ritual—maintaining the Eight Pure Precepts during the twenty-one days it took to carve the Aizen and Jizō. This practice gained in importance in the middle decades of the Kamakura period, as artists increasingly worked directly for monastic patrons at temples, and became active participants in the religious movements that grew up around them. It was especially true for sculptors like Kōjō who were working for members of Eison’s community.

Repurposing Architectural Timbers

Three other occasions of sculptors refashioning architectural timbers into Buddhist images are known from the Heian and Kamakura periods, and in two of those cases the wood is referred to as misogi. In 1250 the courtier and former regent Kujō Michiie 九条道家 (1193–1252) wrote a document for his grandson describing his assets and the religious institutions he had supported.⁴³ In it Michiie describes the halls and images at Kōmyōbuji 光明峰寺, a temple he had established in southeast Kyoto. Michiie notes that the life-size seated statue of Dainichi, the Esoteric manifestation of the Cosmic Buddha housed in the Main Hall, was carved by Kōkei 康慶 (n.d.), the first sculptor of the Kei school and father of Unkei, and was fashioned out of misogi from the shin no mihashira 心の御柱 (heart pillar) of the shrine at Ise 伊勢神宮. Asaki Shūhei 麻木脩平 has convincingly suggested that the Dainichi and four other images by Kōkei were commissioned by Michiie’s grandfather Kujō Kanezane, who had close relations with the Nara sculptors through his involvement with the reconstruction of Kōfukuji and Tōdaiji. Asaki believes the five sculptures were carved before 1196 and moved to Kōmyōbuji from Hosshōji when much of the compound of that temple was appropriated for the construction of Tōfukuji 東福寺.⁴⁴

The historian of Shinto Murei Hitoshi 牟禮仁 subsequently suggested that the shin no mihashira used to make the Dainichi was the one put in place in 1171 for the twenty-year ritual reconstruction of the Inner Shrine, dedicated to Amaterasu 天照大神, the Sun Goddess and imperial ancestress. It would have been removed and replaced in 1189 for the reconstruction in 1190.⁴⁵ At the Inner Shrine, the heart pillar is fully buried in the ground under the Shōden 正殿, and is considered to be particularly sacred.⁴⁶ Nothing else is known about the now-lost image at Kōmyōbuji. However, since Dainichi was believed to be the honji 本地, or “original ground,” for which Amaterasu was the suijaku 垂迹, or “trace manifestation,” the reuse of what might be considered the most sacred wood in the indigenous religious tradition for a statue of Dainichi has a theological precedent.

The Dainichi at Kōmyōbuji is not the only lost image said to have been made from one of the shin no mihashira of Ise Shrine. An entry for 1195 in the Azuma kagami 吾妻鏡, the chronicle of the Kamakura shogunate, records that Minamoto no Yoritomo (1147–1199) made a donation of fields to the Dainichi-dō 大日堂 on the Ōba estate 大庭御厨 in the province of Sagami, west of Kamakura, to provide funds for the sacred lamps of the Buddha.⁴⁷ It also mentions that the image in the hall had been commissioned by Kamakura (Taira) Kagemasa 鎌倉 (平) 景政 (b. 1069) and was made from the shin no mihashira of Ise Shrine when it was replaced on the twenty-year cycle. Murei has studied this record in detail as well, and while he has doubts about the reliability of the account of the creation of the statue, he has no such doubts about Yoritomo’s donation and belief in the legend associated with the image.⁴⁸ Murei further observes that Yoritomo made the donation to the Dainichi-dō after returning from the rededication of the Great Buddha that took place in the third month of 1195. He thus surmises that the extraordinary use of the shin no mihashira for the statue of Dainichi commissioned by Kujō Kanezane and Yoritomo’s donation to the Dainichi-dō may have been motivated by the reconstruction of the Great Buddha.⁴⁹

The earliest extant image that can be confirmed to have been made from repurposed wood is a standing Amida 阿弥陀如来 (fig. 12) fashioned by an anonymous artist that was brought to Edo in the late sixteenth century and today is the main image of Higashi Honganji 東本願寺 in Taitō Ward in Tokyo.⁵⁰ When the statue was disassembled for repairs, a piece of wood was discovered inside with an inscription stating that “the misogi for the three-foot (sanshaku 三尺) Amida was [a piece] cut from the central pillar of the Jewel Pagoda (hōtō 宝塔) at Shitennōji (四天王寺),” and with a date of 1226 (fig. 13). The five-story pagoda at Shitennōji burned in 960 and was not rebuilt until the eleventh century. That structure was subsequently repaired in 1201.⁵¹ As is the case with the statues of Aizen and Jizō by Kaijō, the inscription does not make clear if the wood for this image was taken from the old central pillar or from wood that was used in its repair. However, since the sculptor or patron took the effort to mention the source in the dedicatory inscription, it seems likely that wood from the earlier pagoda, sacralized by its incorporation into a structure that housed relics of the Historical Buddha, was set aside to be used in a commission twenty-five years later.

Fig. 12.

Fig. 12.

Amida, dated 1226 (Karoku 2). Wood with gold leaf, rock-crystal eyes; h. 97.6 cm. Higashi Honganji, Taitō Ward, Tokyo. Photograph courtesy of Higashi Honganji

Fig. 13.

Fig. 13.

Piece of wood with inscription found inside the Amida at Higashi Honganji (fig. 12)

While nothing of the history of this statue prior to the sixteenth century is known, the choice of wood from the central pillar of the five-story pagoda at Shitennōji for the statue most certainly endowed the Amida with added authority. The temple had been founded in the sixth century by Prince Shōtoku 聖徳太子 (574–622), who over time came to be viewed not only as the founder of Buddhism in Japan, but as the country’s own Śākyamuni. The “Handprint Origin Tale” (Go-shuin engi 御手印縁起) discovered there in 1007 asserts that the temple was the very place where Śākyamuni preached.⁵² By the twelfth century, Pure Land beliefs had fully infiltrated the sanctuary as well, and the torii outside the West Gate was believed to be the eastern entrance to Amida’s Pure Land. By the time the pagoda was rebuilt in the thirteenth century, the temple had become a pilgrimage site for aristocrats, monks, and commoners alike who all wanted to express their devotion to the legacy of the prince. Thus, carving a statue of Amida from wood from the temple’s pagoda most likely drew upon the authority of both the Historical Buddha and Prince Shōtoku, while also asserting Shitennōji’s place in the rapidly developing Pure Land orders.

The fourth instance of an image fashioned from wood taken from a temple building is a statue of Shaka 釈迦如来 in the style of the image at Seiryōji (figs. 14, 15) dedicated in the fourth month of 1273.⁵³ The timing of the sculpting would have been considered to have been particularly propitious—the project was begun on the anniversary of the death of the Historical Buddha (the fifteenth day of the second month), and finished on the anniversary of his birth (the eighth day of the fourth month). According to the inscription, the statue was originally part of a group of five similar images, fashioned by the sculptor Genkai 玄海 (n.d.) from old pieces of wood from the Main Hall of a temple named Kokyōji 古橋寺 associated with Gangōji 元興寺 in Nara; however, nothing more is known of the artist or the temple (fig. 16).⁵⁴ The image was carved from a solid block of Japanese nutmeg-yew (kaya 榧; Torreya nucifera). Only the head was hollowed, and X-ray photographs have revealed a reliquary suspended in the cavity.⁵⁵

Fig. 14.

Fig. 14.

Genkai. Shaka in the Seiryōji style dated 1273 (Bun’ei 10). Wood with lacquer, rock-crystal eyes; h. 77.9 cm. Nara National Museum. Photograph courtesy of the Nara National Museum

Fig. 15.

Fig. 15.

Face of the Shaka dated 1273 (Bun’ei 10) (fig. 14)

Fig. 16.

Fig. 16.

Inscription of the Shaka dated 1273 (Bun’ei 10) (fig. 14)

Ninshō 忍性 (1217–1303), Eison’s most important disciple, who is referred to in the inscription by his alternate name, Ryōkan 良観, dedicated the image. He was joined in officiating at the event by Shōkai 性海 (1235–1292/98), another influential member of Eison’s community, and 125 monks are recorded as having been in attendance. The dedication was held at the East Residence (Higashi muro 東室) of the Shōtō-in 小塔院, a compound of Gangōji that had been established in the second half of the eighth century.⁵⁶

The Seiryōji statue, brought from China in 986, was believed to be a representation of the first image of the Historical Buddha fashioned out of sandalwood during his lifetime. The first copies of that renowned statue were made in the Heian period, but the practice became particularly popular at temples affiliated with Eison’s religious community after 1249, when Zenkei carved the statue installed as the main object of worship at Saidaiji. In fact, Ninshō was directly involved with the creation of one such replication at Gokurakuji 極楽寺 near Kamakura at about the same time as this image was carved.⁵⁷ For Eison, Ninshō, and their followers, who put particular emphasis on the conferral and maintenance of the precepts, the original and its replications represented the source of the fundamental tenets of their beliefs.

The Shaka statue of 1273 mirrors the original in the overall arrangement of the robes, the distinctive spiral pattern of the hair, and the conspicuous incised lines on the hands. Yet it clearly reveals its late thirteenth-century date in its youthful, more naturalistically proportioned face, and the use of the inlaid rock-crystal eyes. The decision to use Japanese nutmeg-yew for the image and its pedestal clearly reflects an attempt to create a material association with the statue at Seiryōji, for Japanese nutmeg-yew was frequently used as an alternative to sandalwood during the eighth and ninth centuries.⁵⁸ However, the wood was rarely used for architectural projects throughout Japanese history.⁵⁹ Why Japanese nutmeg-yew would have been used in the construction of the otherwise unknown Kokyōji is unclear, and to make five sculptures and pedestals of the same size would have required Genkai to reuse multiple pillars or large rainbow beams. Nevertheless, by fashioning the image and its lost companions with material associated with a temple with connections to Gangōji, an important center of Buddhist scholarship and the successor in Nara to the first temple established in Japan, and most likely dedicating them on the grounds of the temple, the statues would have been provided with added legitimacy drawn from the past. Of equal importance may have been the fact that the main object of devotion of the first Gangōji was an image of Shaka, commissioned by Prince Shōtoku and cast in 606 by Tori Busshi 止利仏師 (n.d.). Eison was strongly committed to the Shōtoku cult since it associated his new order with the foundation narrative of Buddhism in Japan. Five years earlier his community had commissioned Zenkei’s son Zenshun to sculpt a statue of Shōtoku at the Age of Sixteen for the temple.⁶⁰ Thus, it is not difficult to imagine his followers wanting replicas of the statue of 1249 made out of timbers from a structure connected to Gangōji.

Kaijō, Zenkei, and Eison’s Religious Community

As noted at the start of this essay, the repurposing of architectural timbers for Buddhist statues did not occur with any great frequency in Japan; however, in the only known examples discussed above, the sculptors and the patrons chose wood that had potent associations with the history of Japanese Buddhism and, in the case of the statue once at Koymyōbuji, Buddhism’s relationship with the Inner Shrine at Ise. Two of the five occasions can be associated with Eison’s religious community and occurred during the time that Hirata describes as “the period of the maintenance of the precepts,” when sculptors and painters followed the practices they promoted. As Hillary Pedersen’s essay in this issue describes, Eison and his followers were involved with restoring early temples and their statues, and the decision to repurpose wood from early structures for new statues fits with such activities.

By the time Kaijō undertook the project in 1256 to carve the statues of Aizen and Jizō for Jakuchō, he must have been familiar to Eison’s inner circle and had some knowledge of the monk’s artistic projects. In 1247, nine years before he had Kaijō carve the statue of Aizen, Eison had Zenkei carve a statue of Aizen to use as his own personal object of devotion. He installed a copy of the Kongō hōrōkaku issai yuga yugi-kyō inside the image, placed it in a feretory, and enshrined it in his residence at Saidaiji.⁶¹ Jakuchō seems to have followed Eison’s precedent. He installed the same text in his image, and given its almost perfect state of preservation, it seems likely that it was kept in a feretory as well. Kaijō’s statue is not an exact copy of Zenkei’s image—the planes of the face are fuller, and the expression is less ferocious. However, it is only slightly smaller in size and shares similar patterns of cut gold-leaf ornamentation. Kaijō must have been aware of Zenkei’s work and emulated it for Jackuchō.

While Kaijō’s name does not appear in any record associated with Zenkei, it seems possible that Kaijō’s career mirrored that of Zenkei, who until 1249 went by the name, Zen’en.⁶² Zenkei’s origins, like those of Kaijō, are obscure. He may very well have begun his career assisting on the last projects for the initial phase of the reconstruction of Tōdaiji and Kōfukuji. However, by early in the second decade of the thirteenth century, the members of the Kei school had abandoned Nara for Kyoto and on occasion Kamakura. As a result, the monks at the Nara temples often turned to lesser-known sculptors for their images, including Zenkei, whose first known commissions were for monks affiliated with Kōfukuji. Many were intent on reviving the teachings of the Historical Buddha and a commitment to strict adherence of the Buddhist precepts while also emphasizing the close relationship that existed between the temple and Kasuga Shrine. Among these early works were statues of the Buddhist deities associated with Kasuga Shrine, and a small image of a seated Shaka Zenkei made in 1225 for Kakuchō (n.d.), an active member of the precept-revival movement who instructed Eison.⁶³ Zenkei did not do the work in an atelier in Nara. Rather he performed the carving alone on the grounds of Kaijūsenji 海住山寺, located in the hills some distance north of the city, during which time he maintained the Eight Pure Precepts. At some point during the next two decades, Zenkei and Eison became acquainted; and in 1247 Zenkei made the statue of Aizen to serve as the monk’s personal object of devotion. By the time Zenkei produced the copy of the statue of Śākyamuni at Seiryōji in 1249, for which Jakuchō served as one of the patrons, Zenkei was working exclusively for Eison and his community.

Assuming Kaijō was born in 1226, he could very well have begun his career working for sculptors affiliated with the Nara temples, possibly with Zenkei, since he used the same technique for fashioning the feet of the statue Jizō at Shungakuji and the Amida today at Mangyōji as Zenkei did for two statues of Jizō. It is not difficult to imagine that Jakuchō became aware of Kaijō’s talents as a sculptor at Saidaiji and subsequently recruited him to work on the two statues at the Kedai-in. It is also important to add that just as Zenkei undertook projects at the temples of his monastic patrons, Kaijō carved the statues of Aizen and Jizō on the grounds of the Kedai-in. Maintenance of the Eight Pure Precepts while sculpting an image seems to have become standard practice for artists working for Eison’s community by the mid-thirteenth century. The sculpting of images was clearly understood to be a devotional act.

Conclusion

While the context in which Jakuchō and Kaijō created the image of Aizen seems clear, the motivations behind the creation of the Jizō are at first not readily apparent. However, its construction and the original dedicatory objects placed inside it (now lost and known only from the inscription) provide some explanation. As mentioned above, the Jizō was believed to provide salvation for those unfortunate enough to have been condemned to one of the many Buddhist hells. In Nara, Jizō was associated with Amenokoyane no Mikoto, the third deity of Kasuga Shrine, and was believed to descend from Mount Kasuga as an active intercessor to those with sincere faith. Seya Takayuki has suggested that one way this idea was expressed by Nara sculptors was to carve the robes in a manner that explicitly mirrored the way they were worn by actual monks.⁶⁴ Another was to fashion the feet in such a way that they do not rest flush on the surface of the pedestal and thus give the illusion of movement. The use of this style on the statue of Jizō implies that Kaijō and Jakuchō had this particular manifestation of the deity, unique to Nara, in mind.

Some of the lost dedicatory objects can be associated with Pure Land beliefs, which were rapidly gaining popularity at the time and thus support this contention. The statue once contained one set of the Nyohō-kyō 如法経 (Lotus Sutra); one fascicle of the “lesser” Amida-kyō 阿弥陀経; three copies of “the sutra of the original vow according to Xuanzang’s teachings,” most likely referring to the Jizō hongan-kyō 地蔵本願経; a small image of Amida; one hundred images of Jizō; and a diagram of the five organs, described in the inscription as having been in the manner of the ones in the Jizō statue that was the object of personal devotion of Genshin 源信 (942–1017), author of the Essentials of Rebirth 往生要集 (Ōjō yōshū) and a seminal Pure Land theologian.⁶⁵ The inclusion of the diagram of the five organs further emphasizes that the image was not simply considered as an inanimate object, but as one that possessed the potential of agency in the phenomenological world. The one hundred images of Jizō may very well have been placed there by a religious confraternity that Jakuchō formed to provide financial support and concomitant karmic benefits.

Other objects originally installed in the statue, in particular scrolls of the darani of the Yuishiki sanjūju 唯識三十頌陀羅尼, one of the most important Consciousness Only texts, and the standard system of precepts known as the Four-Part Vinaya 刪定戒本, point to Jakuchō’s concerns with the revival of monastic discipline and worship of the Historical Buddha in Nara and his affiliation with Eison. In addition, inserted behind the crystal urna between the eyebrows was a relic brought to Japan from China by Jianzhen 鑑真 (688–763; J. Ganjin) in the mid-eighth century. Jianzhen had established orthodox ordinations in Japan based on the Bonmō-kyō at the request of Emperor Shōmu and thus was deeply venerated by Eison and his followers. Some of the three thousand grains of relics Jianzhen is said to have brought with him were in Eison’s possession, and many of these miraculously increased in number at different times during his lifetime.⁶⁶ The presence of one of those relics in the image directly links it not only to the authority of the Historical Buddha, but to the Chinese monk who was the originator of proper precept conferral in Japan.

When Zenkei made his copy of the statue at Seiryōji, he was replicating one of the most renowned images in Japan. For Eison, who placed particular emphasis on conferral and maintenance of the precepts established by the Historical Buddha, by making the statue the main object of devotion at Saidaiji, he was linking his temple to the Buddhist world across both time and space. Jakuchō and Kaijō had more local concerns. By refashioning the remains of pillars of the eighth-century Great Buddha Hall, wood that that was considered to be “the most sacred wood among sacred wood,” to make the statues of Aizen and Jizō, sculptor and patron linked them to the history of Buddhism in Japan at a time when the uncertainties brought on by the End of the Buddhist Law still remained of great concern. The material memorialized the past while at the same time it was given new forms to address religious concerns of the present. The theological and artistic innovations of the Kamakura period are usually associated with eminent monks and well-known sculptors. The careers of Kaijō and Jakuchō demonstrate that even obscure figures were capable of artistic and religious innovation.

Acknowledgments

In the preparation of this essay I received generous assistance from numerous institutions and individuals. In particular I would like to thank Higashi Honganji, Seikōji, Shungakuji, Tōdaiji, and the Nara National Museum, as well as Azuma Yoshiaki, Nemoto Seiji, Sakamoto Naoko, Shimizu Kōnin, Takanashi Junji, and Yamaguchi Ryūsuke.