Here is the text of the commentary that David included with this print when it was sent to the original subscribers of the Surimono Albums series, back in 2001.

Back near the very beginning of these Surimono Albums, for the second print in the first album, I included a design by Nishikawa Sukenobu. At that time I made a considerable 'alteration' in the print; all of Sukenobu's work was done in the era before colour printing had come into common use, but I took the original monochrome print and added colour to it. I wanted to make it more 'beautiful', and I think I succeeded quite well; I used tones that suited the image, and produced a print that perhaps he himself would have designed had he lived just a few years longer. But a sort of 'hidden' motivation was that I was somewhat afraid of the reaction from the collectors if I sent them a simple sumizuri-e (black-printed-picture). I was worried that they might think it too simple ... too 'boring' ...

Last year, during the planning for the second album, I faced the same situation; I very much wanted to include another print from the early days of ukiyo-e, but knew that I couldn't keep on colouring them! So a black and white book page by Moronobu appeared in that set. Reaction from the collectors was muted; nobody complained about the design, but not many people commented positively on it either. Well here we are a year later, and again I've included a sumizuri-e. This time though, I think you'll find it looks quite a bit different.

Every one of the 28 prints I've made so far in these Surimono Albums has been printed on paper made for me by Mr. Ichibei Iwano, who lives in the village of Imadate, up in Fukui Prefecture. Mr. Iwano specializes in the paper known as Echizen Hosho - Echizen is the archaic name for that region of the country, and hosho describes this type of high-quality paper. This is the paper that was used historically for most of the prints made in the glory days of ukiyo-e - the famous Utamaro, Hiroshige and Hokusai prints. Hosho paper's main advantage for the printmaker is that it will withstand the repeated stresses placed on it when many colours are being overlaid. But in the early days before colour printing this type of paper had not yet come into common use for printmaking. As beautiful as hosho paper is, it just doesn't 'match' this type of design, and I realized this last year after completing that Moronobu print ...

So this time I hunted around for a paper that would be more suitable for a sumizuri-e. The one I chose is not made from kozo (paper mulberry) like hosho, but from mitsumata, another type of plant from which long fibres can be taken. This paper would not be appropriate for making a multi-coloured print, but is suitable for this clean and sparse type of design. I hope Iwano-san isn't upset that I didn't use his paper; I have no intention of abandoning him, and his beautiful hosho paper will continue to be the foundation that underlies my printmaking.

In most English-language reference books on ukiyo-e, the early prints are known generally as 'primitives'. I feel it was a very large mistake to establish such a terminology, because these prints are anything but primitive. Compared to the later full-colour prints they are of course simple, but because of this simplicity we can clearly see and understand their most basic element - the beautiful flowing line. Fabrics in real life never flow and fall as beautifully as they do in ukiyo-e prints, especially in these early designs. A print like this is a joy to carve, and the sharp knife slides smoothly through the wood as it follows the lines traced by the designer's brush. There is nowhere to 'hide' - every twitch of a muscle in one's hand is left visible in the print. This is Japanese woodblock printmaking at its most fundamental - rich black lines sweeping across the paper - and there are many people who believe that the subsequent introduction of colour was the 'beginning of the end' for the genre ...

I hope you find this style of printmaking as beautiful as I do. But one sumizuri-e in an album is enough - next month we'll have something completely different; from about 1720 we are going to leap ahead by about 280 years. And to make that print I am going to need every last ounce of strength that Iwano san's paper can give me ...

December 2001