The pain of Pedantry

The city I live in, Hikari, was into last year home to Yamamoto Akira, a master of chōkin metal chasing and what is known as a Living National Treadure. He passed away just over a year ago, and the city has finally managed to put together an exhibition of his work.

It’s incredible to see. Vessels of metal or lacquerware etched and inlaid with intricate designs both abstract and representative. Each one not only representing hours of painstaking with, but a lifetime of dedication to the art.

Beautiful.

The exhibit opened today and I stopped by unaware that it was the day for the media and various dignitaries to get a guided tour. I hung around the periphery, avoiding the camera and enjoying the beauty my own way.

Then, I overheard the guide talk about a piece I had yet to see, a small vessel inlaid with a “kingfisher.” She described how Yamamoto had wanted to create an image of the rare bird but couldn’t find one to use as a reference, so consulted with the head of the local birdwatcher’s association to track one down.

I was intrigued and confused. Intrigued because I love kingfishers. Confused because they’re not at all rare and it would take maybe a day to find one reliably.

When the crowd moved on, I made my way to view the piece. It was, as I feared, not a common kingfisher, kawasemi in Japanese, but a crested kingfisher, or yamasemi.

The piece was named wrong.

And that one little discrepancy damaged my enjoyment of the event. Which is silly, because it’s probably just some tiny miscommunication that has no bearing on the beauty or mastery of there piece. But man, it really bothers me. Because it’s a lovely depiction of a yamasemi, but kawasemi it ain’t.