A beautiful tension born from free-spirited expression and masterful composition
Bugaku-zu Byobu (舞楽図屏風) by Sotatsu (宗達) – pair of two-panel screens, important cultural property, Daigo-ji Temple (醍醐寺) collection
This is the Bugaku-zu Byobu (舞楽図屏風), regarded as one of Sotatsu (宗達) ’s masterpieces from his later years. The photo below shows another Bugaku-zu depicting a performance at Nikko’s Rinno-ji Temple (日光山輪王寺). Numerous folding screens depicting scenes from bugaku—a form of traditional court dance—still survive today, attesting to how popular this theme was at the time. Now, take a closer look at Sotatsu’s version—do you notice anything unusual?
Bugaku-zu Byobu (舞楽図屏風) , artist unknown – Rinno-ji Temple (日光山輪王寺) Collection, Nikko
There are five sets of performers depicted on the screens. On the far right of the right screen, the figure dressed in white robes and holding a staff represents Saisoro (採桑老). Next to him, a pair of male and female dragons dancing together symbolises Nasori (納蘇利). On the left screen, in the bottom right is Raryoo (羅陵王) above that is Genjoraku (環城楽), and at the far left, four dancers represent cranes in flight in Korobase (崑崙八仙).
That’s right—each of these five groups of figures has been directly copied from earlier bugaku (舞楽) paintings. Sotatsu reproduced their poses and outlines exactly, without altering the basic forms in any obvious way.
On the right is Sotatsu’s depiction of Nasori (納蘇利), and on the left, the same motif from an earlier bugaku screen. The resemblance is striking.
A genius in composition
And yet, what do we find in Sotatsu’s Bugaku-zu Byobu? A distinctive tension fills the gold-leaf background—something dynamic and vibrant, wholly unlike earlier bugaku paintings. It seems that Sotatsu wasn’t aiming to invent new motifs, but rather to recompose existing ones in such a way as to craft a fresh, original vision.
Take Nasori, for example: originally shown in a horizontal layout, Sotatsu repositions it vertically here, altering small details along the way. This restructuring creates a mirrored shape within the pair of screens, while also aligning the dancers’ gazes and movements so they interact with one another, creating the impression that the entire composition is performing a single, unified dance. Note also the bold, calculated placement of the pine tree trunks and large drum (dadaiko, 大太鼓) at either end of the screens, partially concealed. These elements intensify the elegant sense of visual tension in the shimmering gold background, anchoring the composition with remarkable precision.
On the right is Sotatsu’s version of Genjoraku (環城楽), and on the left the earlier depiction. The form differs slightly—likely a deliberate adjustment by Sotatsu to better suit the new composition.
This is exactly why Sotatsu is often called a ‘magician of form’. What may at first glance appear to be copied figures are in fact part of a meticulously planned visual arrangement. His design sensibility—both bold and free-spirited—is fully on display in this magnificent pair of folding screens.
This article is translated from https://intojapanwaraku.com/rock/art-rock/1349/
