“So soon we get old. So late we get smart.” — Anonymous
The word gyotaku is Japanese, and means, literally, fish print.
In the mid-1800s, Japanese fishermen came up with the process to document prize catches. A brag-worthy fish would be laid on one side, the top was inked, and then rice paper would be pressed onto the fish. The paper would be gently removed, and the resulting print would show the size and type of fish caught.
This process came to be before photography, and was used as a way to document notable catches.
The process, called gyotaku, resulted in the production of some beautiful prints. Gyotaku has become rather more refined over the last 170 years or so, but the fundamental process is unchanged. The traditional gyotaku is the pressing of rice paper on an inked fish.
Even the most traditional gyotaku artists will often draw an eye onto the print. Eyeballs do not take the ink well. For that reason a naked print has a small area void of any design. Hand drawing of an eye produces what most consider a more realistic and aesthetic result.
Other artists begin with the traditional print, and add color to achieve a result to resemble the natural colors of the fish. Gold hues, and blue, might be added to dorado/mahi mahi. The work is often signed, and traditionally, a stamp identifying the producer, called chop, is applied with red ink.
A short piece in New Yorker made mention of the craft, and cited the name. This allowed me to do an internet search for gyotaku. A man named Naoki, lives in Kaneohe, Hawaii, where he makes beautiful gyotaku prints. Kaneohe happens to be home to what is now Marine Base Hawaii, formerly Marine Corps AS Kaneohe Bay, where I was stationed prior to deployment to Vietnam.
The ink choice may well be squid ink, available in most art supply stores, as is rice paper, the preferred choice of paper. Squid ink is water soluble, which allow for some dilution and manipulation of the print. The solubility also allows for the ink to be washed off the fish with a garden hose, rendering the fish edible.
Other inks might be problematic in that regard. Naoki has a video on YouTube which shows him catching a 50-pound tuna (ono), inking it, printing it, washing it, eating and serving it as sashimi. The print was quite excellent, and reports were that the sashimi was too. I have no doubt that Naoki was offered a very nice price if he was interesting in selling the print.
Another very accomplished gyotaku artist is a fellow by the name of Burt Lancaster, who also produces wonderful work. He lives now in Tampa, but spent a number of early years in Japan. His bio reports that he was a Marine rifleman in Vietnam around the same time I was there, in the same capacity.
If your curiosity is aroused enough to check out gyotaku online, a good place to start might be the website of Naoki, a leading practitioner of gyotaku, or that of Burt Lancaster – make sure to specify the gyotaku fellow, not the actor. YouTube has dozens of videos on the subject, including do-it-yourself instruction. Bonefish Grill, the excellent fish and seafood restaurant in Grand Rapids, has several very nice pieces of gyotaku displayed on the walls.
Years ago I hooked a lunker bass on beautiful Miner Lake, in Allegan County. No photo is available. But what I really wish I had would be a gyotaku print to document my single notable angling achievement.
• Naoki: https://gyotaku.com
• Burt Lancaster: http://www.gyotakuart.com
• Bonefish Grill: 1100 East Paris SE, Grand Rapids
Basura,
I found this article really interesting, and, having been to the Bonefish Grill several times and admired the prints there, I had to visit the web sites you provided to see more.
I was more impressed by the work of Naoki than that of Mr. Lancaster, but that’s merely a matter of taste. It makes me wish that I’d known about this print making when I was just a sprout fishing with my grandma the Manasquan River in Point Pleasant, NJ, when I caught my only fluke. It was a beauty, especially for a nine-year-old kid, and I have no photo to commemorate it. But the memory of it stays with me, and it was delicious!
Two words for A Little Kid Catches A Big Fish: a fluke fluke. We don’t find too many flukes in Michigan, but if I happen to see on on a menu somewhere, I hope expand my knowledge. Thanks for the comment.
Basura,
I had to google fluke to make sure my memory was correct.
A fluke is a salt water flat fish, and a bottom dweller with very sharp teeth. What particularly captured my interest as a child is that the fish, while a flat fish, has both eyes on the top side of itself, rather than on opposing sides of a head. It has many eye-shaped spots on its body that make it almost invisible skimming along the bottom of a river.
The one I caught wasn’t particularly large, but it did feed Grandma and me for a decent lunch.
It doesn’t taste like chicken, but like any flaky white fish. Pan-fried in butter, yummy.
It sounds very much like a flounder. They start out typically, but as they mature, one eye “migrates” to the the opposite side, as the fish begins to live on it’s side. Wierd. Bony, but delicious. . . A little internet search reported that that a fluke is a type of flounder, and also that the much larger halibut is related.
Should we note that fluke is also a word used to describe the last part of a marine mammal, while the last part of a fish is the tail? Flukes are oriented horizontally, tails vertically. A fluke woundn’t have a fluke, unless it was a fluke of nature.