Painters as Envoys: Korean Inspiration in Eighteenth-Century Japanese Nanga discusses how diplomatic contact between Korea and Japan during the eighteenth century helped to shape a new Japanese landscape painting style. By examining possible Korean influences on the development of Nanga, or Japanese literati painting, the author sheds new light on China’s Southern school of painting with respect to its cross-cultural transmission in East Asia. Students of Chinese, Korean, and Japanese art histories will all find this book of interest.

Divided into three parts with an introduction and conclusion, Burglind Jungmann’s book provides an in-depth discussion on the history of Korean embassies to Japan and the origin of the Southern school (chapters 1 and 2), the early relationship between Korean painters and Nanga pioneers (chapters 3 and 4), and Korean influence on Ike Taiga, the most influential Nanga painter (chapters 4, 5, and 6).

Most of the tremendous amount of scholarship on Korean embassies to Japan during the Edo period has focused on the diplomatic aspects of the missions. While some Korean art historians have studied this topic, until now Japanese and Western scholars have not been fully aware of it. The author’s command of Korean, Japanese, and Chinese languages enables her to take on this complicated task. She surveys most of the current scholarship and places it in a rich and complex analytical framework. In addition, as a Western scholar, she is able to keep a certain distance from many of the sensitive nationalistic tensions caused by past politics between Korea and Japan. It has been extremely difficult for Korean and Japanese art historians to handle the delicate issues of cultural influences that have often been manipulated by contemporary political agendas.

Although Japanese invasions of Korea in the 1590s left lasting scars on the national memory of both nations, the two neighboring countries reestablished a close diplomatic relationship by the mid-seventeenth century. It was through this channel that the Japanese government managed indirect contact with China after the Qing dynasty halted official communication with the Japanese bakufu. At the same time, Qing China continued to maintain close diplomatic ties with Chosǒn Korea, and, consequently, twelve Korean embassies were dispatched to Japan between 1607 and 1811. Each embassy consisted of three to five hundred participants, and each delegation included a skilled court painter as well as other high officials who were often talented in calligraphy and painting. These Korean artists demonstrated their skill at literati gatherings and banquets offered by Japanese hosts and eagerly exchanged artworks with their Japanese counterparts. They also could easily communicate with one another through “brush conversation” using the commonly understood medium of Chinese characters. Many historical records attest that painting officials of Korean embassies were extremely busy during their long journeys, fulfilling requests by the many Japanese who visited their guesthouses and desperately sought Korean art. As a result, their works were preserved in Japan and ultimately reproduced in woodblock-print volumes.

Based on textual sources, such as official histories, travel diaries, and personal letters, as well as on visual evidence of extant paintings and woodblock reproductions, the author documents numerous interactions between Korean embassy members and leading Japanese literati painters, including Gion Nankai, Yanagisawa Kien, and Taiga. Japanese interest in Korean artists and their art, however, was rooted in their enthusiasm for Chinese culture. Throughout the Edo period, Japanese were not allowed to visit China, while Korea sent embassies to China three times a year on average. Japanese artists therefore had limited access to original Chinese painting, and they turned to the Korean guests whose knowledge of recent Chinese artistic trends was more comprehensive. For many Japanese intellectuals, Korea was regarded as a substitute for China. The author emphasizes the fact that Korean painting styles, which were originally based on Chinese models, later became domesticated with a distinctive style in Korea before they were transmitted to Japan.

Among the many different painting styles that were introduced to Japan, Jungmann focuses on the Southern school, a canonized and highly admired literati painting style that developed in the seventeenth century in East Asia. In chapter 2, the author briefly describes Southern school painting traditions in China (Nanzonghua), Korea (Namjonghwa) and Japan (Nanga). Detailed stylistic analysis is essential to the author’s discussion. Comparing examples of Korean Namjonghwa and Japanese Nanga, she finds similar stylistic features in composition, brushwork, and ink technique and concludes that “some elements, not popular in Chinese painting, might have originated in Korea and been transmitted to Japan” (21) in the course of artistic exchange during the Korean embassies’ visits.

Because of its geographical and political proximity, Chosǒn Korea maintained a relative closeness to Chinese culture. By the mid-seventeenth century, the theoretical principles and style of the Southern school were transmitted to Korea. Korean envoys to China brought back paintings in the Southern style as well as painting manuals. Despite the Japanese painters’ expectations, however, the Korean adoption of Chinese Southern school painting had limits. Korean painters learned this new style mainly based from works of minor Chinese artists and woodblock-print manuals on painting. Nevertheless, just as the Japanese valued Korean Confucian scholars highly because of their erudition in Chinese philosophy, the Nanga painters were also eager to learn Chinese Southern school painting from Korean artists. Taiga once wrote a letter to Kim Yusǒng, a Korean court painter and the painting official of a Korean embassy to Japan in 1748, asking him for advice on how to paint Mount Fuji in a particular Southern painting style. Taiga often borrowed the compositions of Chinese models but used brushwork and ink technique that more closely resembled those of Korean painting. Since Nanga painters looked for an alternative to the lavish and colorful styles of contemporary Kano and ukiyo-e schools, Korean monochrome ink paintings may have easily appealed to them. The Southern school emphasized unique literati techniques of subtle ink tone and dry brushstrokes for enhancing mood. Jungmann points out limitations of the woodcut reproductions: although they successfully illustrated certain composition and landscape arrangements, they did not convey the detailed techniques of ink and brush that are the crucial components of the elegant style. Thus, Korean Namjonghwa, she demonstrates, must have played a significant role in the early development of Nanga.

To study the complex transmission of Southern school painting to Japan via Korea, Jungmann traces the distinctive style of Korean Namjonghwa. According to her meticulous investigation of stylistic features, the Korean version of Southern school is much more syncretic. It is an amalgamation of the newly introduced Chinese Southern school and native traditions of Korean Zhe and lingering An Kyǒn schools. As early as the Chosǒn period, Korean painters already had adopted Chinese styles and localized them; for example, the An Kyǒn school is based on Li-Guo painting styles of the Song and Yuan, and the Korean Zhe school of Ming professional painting style was developed by both literati and professional painters in Korea. Therefore, it is not surprising to find somewhat contradictory styles in a single work of Korean Namjonghwa. For the author, this hybrid style of Korean Namjonghwa is key to tracing the Korean influence on Japanese Nanga, which is also an intense mixture of diverse styles.

To reveal the intercultural nature of the Southern school, the author also observes topographic landscape painting in East Asia. Both Korean and Japanese Southern schools developed topographic landscapes of local scenery, called chin’gyǒng in Korean and shinkei in Japanese, that were different from their model in China. Instead of using “true view,” an established translation for this term, the author proposes a new translation, “true scenery,” that she believes delivers the original meaning of the term more accurately. The author points out the possibility that the term may have been transmitted from Korea to Japan, and it is an interesting argument worth further study. Topographical landscape was also developed in China, yet the term “true scenery” was not used there. In this light, the author should have perhaps considered this realistic landscape style within the common cultural milieu in East Asia, the new philosophical movement of Practical Learning, the popularity of traveling and composing travel essays, and the wide circulation of woodblock-print illustrations of famous places.

The author’s heavy reliance on formal analysis is effective for identifying Korean sources and Japanese borrowings in Nanga. Her explanation of stylistic background, however, has limits because it often simplifies the diverse characteristics of various individual painters and loses sight of the broader cultural context. Although the Japanese Nanga painters obviously had contact with Korean painters, it is still difficult to determine to what extent their works were inspired by Korean paintings. The paintings with clear Korean influence still occupy only a small portion of the whole Nanga oeuvre. Furthermore, the common stylistic features in Namjonghwa and Nanga may not be so much the result of Korean influence, as they were also based on the same Chinese woodblock manuals. Ironically, the small scale of reproductions in the book often makes it difficult for readers to follow the author’s detailed analysis, especially concerning the brushwork and ink uses that she considers the most important features of Korean influence on Nanga. If some important works had been reproduced as full-page color illustrations, her points of comparison could have been more clearly understood. In addition, although the author incorporates most of the relevant sources, several important and recently published articles by Korean scholars were not included in her bibliography, though some texts may have only appeared in print after the completion of her manuscript.

Painters as Envoys is the first book-length study on eighteenth-century Korean painting in Western scholarship. The author opens paths toward a new understanding of the relations and among painting schools of Korea, Japan, and China. For the first time, Jungmann thoroughly examines the paintings produced by painting officials of Korean embassies and convincingly argues their important impact on Nanga. Most Japanese and Western art historians have stressed the importance of the Chinese influence but have neglected the Korean contribution. Korean art historians, meanwhile, have touched on it but have not researched the process or recognized how the Japanese rapidly transformed it into their own tradition. This book, therefore, is a significant contribution to the field and lays the groundwork for further investigation.