The Statue of Ashikaga Takauji Returns as a ‘Handsome Man,’ and the Ueda Sōka School Changes Its Headmaster for the First Time in 31 Years—The Quiet Arrangements of Those Handing Over the ‘400-Year System’

On the Other Side of the Silk Painting, There is Someone's Hand A 16th-century portrait preserved at Jōdō-ji Temple in

By Rei

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On the Other Side of the Silk Painting, There is Someone’s Hand

A 16th-century portrait preserved at Jōdō-ji Temple in Onomichi has returned after restoration. In Hiroshima, the Ueda Sōka school of samurai tea ceremony has changed its headmaster for the first time in 31 years—both events taking place between 2023 and 2024.

On one hand, there is the face of a warrior depicted on silk. On the other, there is the ritual of passing a bowl in a tea room. Although the subjects handled are completely different, the underlying structure is somewhat similar. The thickness of time that cannot be reached by individual talent or passion is quietly supported by a “system.”

When reading these two cases side by side, the question of what cultural inheritance is emerges not as an abstract theory but as a tangible process.

“He Returned as a Handsome Man”—The Restoration of the Statue of Ashikaga Takauji

Jōdō-ji Temple in Onomichi is an ancient temple of the Shingon sect, revived during the Kamakura period, and is also known as the temple where Ashikaga Takauji prayed for victory when he traveled from Kyushu to the east. The “Statue of Ashikaga Takauji” housed here is believed to have been created in the 16th century, and although it is distanced from Takauji’s own era, it is a valuable piece that conveys the relationship between samurai culture and temples during the Muromachi period.

Over the years, the silk painting had deteriorated, with pigment flaking and staining becoming more pronounced. The restoration was entrusted to a specialized artisan known as a sōkōshi—technicians responsible for the preparation and repair of hanging scrolls and folding screens. The process involved peeling off the backing of the silk painting, cleaning, retouching missing parts, and applying new backing and mounting. The cost was approximately 2 million yen. While this is a relatively small-scale project for cultural heritage restoration, each decision requires advanced knowledge and experience.

The expert in charge of the restoration reportedly said, “He returned as a handsome man” upon seeing the finished piece. The lines of the face, hidden beneath the dirt, were revived, and the depicted figure regained a dignified expression. While this statement may sound humorous, it also reflects a pride in having “re-extracted the power that the original painting possessed through technique.” Restoration is not about creating anew; it is about sending forward the traces left by someone’s brush as faithfully as possible to the future—this restraint is at the core of the sōkōshi’s work.

Here, I would like to pause and consider the “arrangements” that made this restoration possible. Jōdō-ji has preserved this portrait for hundreds of years. There were individuals who detected signs of deterioration and made the decision to restore it. There existed a network that connected to artisans with the appropriate skills. And there was a system in place to secure the funds for restoration. Before a painting can return as a “handsome man,” multiple unseen hands have come together. The inheritance of cultural heritage relies not only on the strength of the work itself but also on the chain of people and systems surrounding it.

A Change of Headmaster for the First Time in 31 Years—The “Handing Over” of the Ueda Sōka School

Rooted in Hiroshima, the Ueda Sōka school of samurai tea ceremony traces its origins to the warlord Ueda Shigehisa (Sōka) of the Azuchi-Momoyama period. Sōka served Toyotomi Hideyoshi and later the Asano clan, and was also a tea practitioner who studied under Furuta Oribe. This school, which integrates the spirit of samurai culture with the way of tea, has been passed down for over 400 years within the cultural soil of the Hiroshima domain.

In 2024, the 16th headmaster was succeeded by the 17th headmaster, Ueda Sōkō. This marks a change of leadership for the first time in 31 years. Sōkō is the biological child of the previous headmaster and has been familiar with the way of tea since childhood, but it is said that he has also accumulated experience in different fields before taking on this role.

During the ceremonial rites accompanying the change of headmaster, the new headmaster made a vow in front of the disciples who were observing. The words resonated in the quiet space. For those witnessing, it was also a moment to reaffirm their place within this school—a ritual serves not only as a formality but also as a device to re-establish relationships.

Sōkō stated, “I want to create a way of tea that reflects how we live today.” This statement embodies both respect for the teachings of the previous headmaster and a will to not simply freeze what has been received. The most challenging aspect of inheriting tradition is discerning the boundary between what must not change and what must evolve to avoid stagnation. The headmaster system functions as a framework that does not leave this judgment solely to individual sensibilities but rather operates within the accumulated wisdom of generations and the relationships with disciples.

Common Structures in the Two “Handings Over”

The restoration of paintings and the change of headmaster in the tea ceremony. The subjects handled, the number of people involved, and the scale of time are all different. However, when viewed side by side, a common structure emerges.

First, both are established through the multiplication of “individual capability” and “the sustainability of the system.” Without the skills of the sōkōshi, the portrait cannot be revived, but without the temple’s continued preservation, the decision to restore, and the system to secure funding, there would be no opportunity to utilize that skill. Without the qualities of a headmaster, the school would stagnate, but without the framework of the headmaster system, it would be nearly impossible to consolidate 400 years of knowledge into one individual and pass it on to the next.

Next, there is always a “witnessing person” present at the moment of handing over. The words spoken in front of the restored portrait, “He has become a handsome man,” reflect the feelings of those who witnessed it. The presence of disciples at the headmaster change ceremony also indicates that inheritance is not a closed act but one that is recognized within the community. The transfer of culture does not conclude with just the giver and the receiver. It is only when a third party stands in between, witnesses, and remembers that inheritance becomes a social fact.

And one more point—both are conducted in a state of “quietness.” They do not attract large budgets or make headlines in national news. The restoration cost of about 2 million yen is extremely small compared to the scale of public works. The change of headmaster after 31 years hardly reaches anyone outside those interested in Hiroshima’s local culture. However, this quietness may be the essence of the system that has supported 400 years of time. It continues to operate without attracting flashy attention—that is the power of “arrangement.”

The Warmth Within the System

When discussing the inheritance of culture as a “system,” it may sound somewhat cold. However, there are always people within the system. The hands that peel off the backing of the silk painting one by one. The hands that fold the cloth wrapping the tea bowl. The hands that decide the date of the ceremony, write invitations, and prepare the venue. Each of these actions is someone’s judgment, someone’s time, and someone’s warmth.

The beauty of the system lies in its ability to distribute the burden of individuals and shift the weight of time, which cannot be borne alone, onto multiple shoulders. When asked, “Who does this make easier?” the answer is clear—it makes it easier for the recipients of the next generation who have yet to be born. Neither Sōka from 400 years ago nor the painter of the portrait in the 16th century would have imagined that their work would reach this moment. Yet, it has reached us. What delivered it were the countless “arrangers” who continued to stand in between.

At Jōdō-ji Temple in Onomichi, the restored portrait will be hung once again. In a tea room in Hiroshima, the new headmaster will prepare the first cup of tea. In both cases, there will be a moment when the air changes just a little. Those who can sense that change in the air will become the first witnesses for the next 400 years.

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