Do you know…
The fascinating connection between the Edo-period 浮世絵 (Ukiyo-e) Japanese art style and Vincent van Gogh? In this newsletter, we’ll dive into that and share a new video on the topic to help you practice your reading and listening skills!
But first what does 浮世絵 really mean?
The usual translation, "Pictures of the Floating World," is pretty solid, but let’s take a closer look at each kanji:
浮 (うく・フ) – "float; rise; fleeting"
This kanji conveys the idea of something floating, ephemeral, or transient. It symbolizes the fleeting nature of life, which ties into the concept of ukiyo as the "floating world."
世 (よ・セ・セイ) – "world; generation; society"
This represents the world or society, reinforcing the idea of ukiyo as the world in which people live—especially the entertainment and pleasure-seeking culture of Edo-period Japan.
絵 (え・カイ) – "picture; painting; drawing"
This kanji means "painting" or "illustration," indicating that Ukiyo-e refers to visual depictions of this transient, floating world.
Okay, Clay, but what does “Floating World” actually mean?!
Originally, 浮世 (ukiyo) meant “sorrowful world” (憂き世 — also pronounced “ukiyo”), rooted in Buddhist ideas of life’s suffering and impermanence. But during the Edo period, it was reimagined as “floating world” (浮世), celebrating the fleeting pleasures of urban life—kabuki, geisha, and entertainment. This shift transformed 浮世 from a symbol of melancholy to one of indulgence and beauty, captured vividly in the “pictures of the floating world.”
Next, here is a link to our newest video. An essay on Ukiyo-e from our Japanese History bundle. If you are a Makoto+ Shogun or Lifetime member, you can also read the essay here.
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Vincent van Gogh, Portrait of Julien Tanguy, 1887, Musée Rodin, Parijs
A Tale of Two Markets
In its native Japan, ukiyo-e was the art of the everyday people—accessible, playful, and full of life. These woodblock prints captured the rhythms of daily existence—from lively street scenes to tranquil landscapes—and were as affordable as your favorite bowl of noodles (perhaps with a side of tempura for extra flavor). Thanks to advances in mass production, these prints weren’t just decorations; they were a window into a world where art was for everyone.
But in Europe, ukiyo-e took on an entirely different role. When Japanese goods began flowing into the West in the mid-19th century, ukiyo-e prints tagged along as unexpected stowaways, often used as packing paper to cushion porcelain and other fragile imports. Collectors quickly realized these “wrappings” weren’t just paper—they were stunning works of art. With their striking compositions, bold colors, and dreamlike simplicity, these once-everyday prints became rare and exotic treasures, captivating artists and collectors alike.
'And we wouldn’t be able to study Japanese art, it seems to me, without becoming much happier and more cheerful, and it makes us return to nature, despite our education and our work in a world of convention’.
Vincent to Theo, 23 or 24 September 1888
Van Gogh’s Japanese Epiphany
Enter Vincent van Gogh—a man whose life was as tumultuous as his palette was vivid. In the 1880s, while living in Paris, van Gogh encountered ukiyo-e, and it was love at first sight. Their flat planes of color, daring cropping, and dynamic compositions were unlike anything in Western painting at the time.
But van Gogh wasn’t just a passive admirer—he studied these prints. He collected them. He copied them. His letters (you can read some of them here) are filled with admiration for Japanese prints, marveling at their fresh perspective and how they challenged his approach to composition and color.
Imagine van Gogh flipping through a collection of these prints, thinking, “If these works can make everyday scenes look extraordinary, then perhaps I should give it a whirl too!” And give it a whirl he did—incorporating bold outlines and unconventional perspectives into his paintings.
The influence is unmistakable in works like Portrait of Père Tanguy (see above), where ukiyo-e prints fill the background, or Flowering Plum Orchard (after Hiroshige) [See here and scroll down a bit], which is a direct reworking of one of Hiroshige’s masterpieces. Even his swirling skies and color-blocked landscapes reflect the lessons he learned from the Japanese masters.
Art Transcending Cultures
So, the next time you see one of van Gogh’s swirling, color-packed masterpieces, take a closer look. Somewhere in those brushstrokes, there’s a little bit of Edo-period Japan, reimagined by a Dutchman with a penchant for ear-related drama.
And if that connection doesn’t make you want to learn more about ukiyo-e, well… we’ve got today's new video and some fantastic books to help change your mind.
Speaking of which…
