XRay of a pre-Meiji set of samurai armor.

So why are we taking this armor off view? Well, armor may look tough, but some of its components are surprisingly fragile. While steel, leather, and wood are used to create the protective plating, these are laced together with leather or silk cord. After several centuries, these materials may not be strong enough to hold the weight of the armor for extended periods. Materials can also be damaged by prolonged exposure to light, meaning that the armor needs to be rested periodically.

Our conservation center has written an article on how we look after our Japanese armor, and there are more images on Flickr.

Our conservation team has also been working to prepare the new set of armor, which is on loan from a private collection. In these pictures you can see Katherine Holbrow, our head of conservation, using a spectrometer to determine what metals are present in the samurai helmet.

Samurai helmet undergoing spectrometry. Helmet from Private Collection.

Head of conservation Katherine Holbrow adjusting the helmet.

We rotate many of the pieces in this collection, not just armor. Over the next few months we will be doing several gallery rotations, many in preparation for Phantoms of Asia: Contemporary Awakens the Past. Keep an eye on the blog to hear about what’s coming down and what we’re replacing it with. We’ll try to make sure you don’t miss a thing.

With the close of Poetry in Clay on January 8, the Asian Art Museum’s Korean galleries have once again become a work in progress. A collection of old friends — ceramic and metal works from the museum’s collection — are on their way back.

The reinstalled gallery will re-open this weekend, so be sure to take a moment to revisit your favorite Korean works.

But in addition to works from the collection, we have another treat on view. When the museum opened at Civic Center back in 2003, the Korean artist Cho Duk-Hyun excavated a pack of dogs on museum grounds as part of the Eureka project. Ten of these dogs were later given to the museum. As part of the Korean gallery reinstallation, we’ve let these dogs out of their storage crate for a brief romp. You can check the pups out and watch a video documenting their unearthing starting January 28.

Museum photographer Kaz Tsuruta photographs each dog on its way to the gallery.

Bonus Quiz: There are nine dogs in the gallery but ten in the pack that was given to the museum. Can you guess where doggy number ten is? Put your answer in the comments below.

Curator of Korean Art Hyonjeong Kim Han, registrar Cathy Mano, and exhibition manager Kelly Bennett wrangle Cho Duk-Hyun's dogs into the Korean gallery alcove.

Snuff bottle with dragons, Qing dynasty, approx. 1800-1900.

Lunar New Year will be celebrated on Monday, January 23 this year. It is the Year of the Black Water Dragon, which many people believe will bring good fortune and prosperity. Dragons are considered good luck because they symbolize fertility and bring rain – given the weather we’re experiencing in San Francisco today it looks like the dragon has arrived a little early.

In Chinese tradition the dragon is an ancient symbol of rank and power and emperors wore dragons on their robes. Dragons with five claws represent the Emperor, and dragons with fewer claws represent other members of the royal family.

We have a lot of Chinese dragons here at the museum, so we’ve highlighted a few you can visit this weekend in anticipation of the Year of the Dragon. The snuff bottle above and the two pieces below are in our China galleries.

This glorious rug is from Qing dynasty China, approx. 1700-1800.

Detail from bottle with a dragon and a phoenix; Ming dynasty.

There are more Chinese dragons to be found in the Loggia at the top of the grand staircase. Here’s one you can look out for:

Jar with dragons amid clouds, Ming dynasty. From the Avery Brundage collection.

There are many more dragons, large and small, in the museum’s collection. Tell us about your favorite in the comments!

Here at the museum, we were excited to see Chang’s name in the news because one of his paintings, Clouded Mountain, will soon go on view in our China gallery.

As a preeminent painter of twentieth-century China, Chang integrated modern sensibilities into traditional Chinese painting. In 1956 he made his first pan-European tour, at which time his eyesight began to deteriorate. During this time, he unexpectedly developed his most innovative painting technique of splashed ink and color. Clouded Mountains exemplifies the splashed ink technique. The poem, inscribed by Chang, reads:

I was in the mood to paint in the middle of night
My wife and son were awakened from their dreams
Ink overturned and running out of control
Emerging from the summer clouds a celestial mountain

Chang’s painting will go on view on January 24.

Translated Vase, Yee Sookyung, 2007. Courtesy the artist.

This weekend our Korean ceramic exhibition, Poetry in Clay, is leaving us.

If you haven’t had a chance to explore this showcase of buncheong ceramics, you’d better hurry in. Even if you have seen it, I’ve found it’s an exhibition worthy of a second look.

While some people, like our marketing manager Jenn, immediately connect with the beauty of these pieces, for others (myself included) it’s a slower process. My co-worker Amelia came to appreciate the works through the class narrative that forms part of the context of the exhibition. For me, the way in was through the contemporary works, especially the vessels made from soap. That’s right, soap. I’m not giving you a sneak preview; you’ll have to come see them for yourself.

Luckily, some of the contemporary pieces (such as the Translated Vase, pictured) will remain on view in the loggia until April, but the juxtaposition of old and new is central to this show, so to get the full experience you’ll need to join us this weekend – perhaps on our Target First Free Sunday on January 8. Hope to see you there.

The rhinoceros was of special importance to the ancient Chinese, as the museum’s famous rhinoceros-shaped vessel, which probably dates from 1100–1050 BCE, attests. Rhinoceros horn was (and still is) valued for its medicinal properties, and considered an antidote to poison. Often carved into cups, it became a prized medium of artistic expression, and Chinese artists created great works of art from it; the period of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries was one of particular excellence.

This example from the turn of the seventeenth century, which depicts an immortal paradise, closely follows the shape of the original rhinoceros horn.

More examples of rhino horn objects are on view in Gallery 17, on the second floor of the museum. By displaying these objects we hope to improve understanding of traditional Chinese art and to heighten awareness of the current threat to an animal long esteemed in Chinese culture, and admired by people the world over. For information about rhino conservation visit the World Wildlife Fund.

What do you think? Use the comments to share your views on antique art works that use materials from endangered species.

One of the netsuke on view in the new installation is a tiny figure shown with a tobacco pouch and pipe case hung from its obi by a dark colored, round netsuke—perhaps one similar to the kagamibuta (“mirror lid”) netsuke also on view . . .

LEFT: Netsuke of Okame lifting her kimono hem, approx. 1800–1900. Signed “Mitsu” (or “Ko”). Wood; inlaid ivory, coral, metal, and horn. Asian Art Museum, The Avery Brundage Collection, B70Y1233.

RIGHT: Kagamibuta-type netsuke of Hachisuka Koroku and Hiyoshimaru (youthful Toyotomi Hideyoshi) meeting on the Yahagi Bridge, approx. 1800–1900. Signed “Soyo.” Mixed metals; buffalo horn. Asian Art Museum, The Avery Brundage Collection, B70Y285.

One of the featured “themes” within the display is octopuses—we have some charming examples among the museum’s 1500-some netsuke.

LEFT: Netsuke installation, almost completed! The white gloves on the ledge are what the installation staff used to handle the tiny sculptures. Our mountmaker, Vincent, spent the day making individual mounts for those that needed to stand upright.

RIGHT: Netsuke of octopus in octopus pot. Signed “Masayuki” (Kato Masayuki, born 1831). Edo (Tokyo). Ivory with light staining. Asian Art Museum, The Avery Brundage Collection, B70Y841. Photo by Kaz Tsuruta.

By coincidence, in our museum’s Cafe Asia today, I found something that looked, in size and shape, to have escaped from the netsuke rotation.

LEFT: A miniature delicacy from Cafe Asia.

RIGHT: Netsuke of boiled octopus, approx. 1800–1900. Wood. Asian Art Museum, The Avery Brundage Collection, B70Y1333. Photo by Kaz Tsuruta.

In the refrigerated case, between the usual fruit salads and kelp salads, were containers of miniature marinated octopus salad—not to be passed up! The tiny octopuses tasted as if they had been simmered in soy with mirin (sweet rice wine) or sake and sugar, and they were sprinkled with sesame seeds. A bargain at $4.25, and truly delectable!

LEFT: Marinated Octopus Salad, at Café Asia.

RIGHT: I partake. Yum! Photo by Susie Kantor.

One of my favorite netsuke in the new installation also has an octopus theme. Less than two inches (five centimeters) across, it is formed in the shape of an octopus pot—a clay jar used to trap octopuses that are looking for a hiding place.

Netsuke of octopus in octopus pot inscribed with haiku. Signed “Mitsuhiro” (Ohara Mitsuhiro, 1810–1875). Stained wood with inlaid natural barnacles and glass. Asian Art Museum, The Avery Brundage Collection, B70Y870. Photo by Kaz Tsuruta.

The netsuke is carved of wood to look exactly like unglazed, sea-worn ceramic, and its walls are encrusted with natural barnacles and sand-like materials. Inside hides an ill-fated octopod, barely visible to the naked eye.

On the outer walls of the jar is inscribed a haiku by Matsuo Basho:

“Oh octopus pot/a fleeting dream/the summer moon”

(Takotsubo ya/ hakanaki yume wo/ natsu no tsuki).

One of our conservators with some ready-made enamel eyes.

This sculpture was originally intended to have eyes like these. There are carved depressions in the stone for them, as you can see from the picture below. We don’t know whether the sculpture never got its eyes, or lost them at some point.  Years ago we made a mold of the eye depressions, and I gave the mold to an artisan in India who makes such eyes. The artisan then created a pair for us from enameled metal, as is traditional.

Vishnu and Lakshmi in their former, eyeless state.

This sculpture (which has not been on view for many years) was borrowed for the recent traveling exhibition Vishnu: Hinduism’s Blue-Skinned Savior. The show’s curator, Joan Cummins of the Brooklyn Museum, learned that we had eyes for the sculpture and asked to show the piece in her exhibition with the eyes in place. We agreed enthusiastically.

Vishnu and Lakshmi with their new enamel eyes.

Lots of Indian sculptures–both Hindu and Jain–have such eyes, and the tradition is an old one. Today you can easily buy ready-made eyes, or have them made to order, as we did.

In preparation for the exhibition Poetry in Clay: Korean Buncheong Ceramics from Leeum, Samsung Museum of Art, museum staff have removed all of the permanent collection artwork from the Korean galleries and tucked them away in storage.

With the empty gallery as their canvas, curators from both museums took the time to lay out Poetry in Clay, finalizing the placement and orientation of each object.  This is important because the earthquake mounts that stabilize each artwork are specific to both the artwork and its display position.

Once the layout was finalized, museum mountmakers jumped into action.  Because we are located in an active seismic zone, the museum must make sure that every artwork is able to withstand some serious shaking. For many three-dimensional works, this means creating a seismic mount that secures the object to its display case.

Each mount is  hand formed to fit the exact contours of the artwork, and crafted from conservation safe materials. It may take a skilled mountmaker an entire day to make a single mount. Once all the mounts are completed, we’ll be back upstairs installing these very special works.

Poetry in Clay opens to the public on September 16, 2011 and will remain on view until January 8, 2012.

Over the past two days I’ve heard this question from several staff and visitors who have encountered a spread of crates and precariously placed ceramics outside the doors of the Korean galleries.

"Translation Series" by Meekyoung Shin. Soap, pigment, varnish, mirrored steel plate, wooden crate. Lent by the Artist.

The answer: We’re done!

And a clarification: That’s not clay!

Meekyoung Shin’s Translation Series plays with many things: material, process, place. Those elegant vases are made of humble soap. Perched on their travel crates, they look to me like they have just arrived at the museum— or alternatively are just leaving.

Conservator Mark Fenn condition checks a soap vase from the Translation Series prior to installation.

Soap sculpture is new to museum exhibition staff. In planning the installation, our team has had deep discussion about  burning questions such as how does one secure soap in the case of an earthquake, and will it melt under the lights?

Curator of Korean Art Hyonjeong Kim Han oversees installation of Meekyoung Shin's "Ghost Series" in the Korean gallery.

Meekyoung Shin will be featured as an AsiaAlive artist in September, in conjunction with the exhibition Poetry in Clay: Korean Ceramics from the Leeum, Samsung Museum of Art. You can enjoy her Translation Series, along with several other contemporary Korean works that reference ceramic traditions in the museum’s Korean galleries and on the west end of the Loggia.