To put it bluntly, Japanese artists excelled in the genre of erotic art known as shunga. While there are countless examples of erotic paintings around the world, shunga somehow stands out. On the other hand, we weren’t so adept at expressing things like heavy solidity or grand historical narratives. I’d like to think together with everyone about what that might mean.
Eroticism is the very foundation of Japanese imagination!
Eroticism is the very foundation of Japanese imagination!
The charm of shunga—its eroticism, humor, and a touch of cuteness—resonates with the Japanese approach to erotic expression that has evolved over time. This includes everything from adult videos to the brilliantly humorous erotic shop signs that once filled Kabukicho. Although shunga has long been devalued domestically as obscene, we can now appreciate its charm in a corner of Kabukicho. So let’s set aside heavy theories and overthinking—and simply enjoy it!
It is said that the exaggerated expressions in shunga evoke laughter. This may be true when viewed alone or with close friends. But what happens when people who share genuine feelings gaze at it side by side? Might not desire and affection—not just laughter—begin to fill the space? I look forward to Smappa!Group’s uniquely envisioned second venue—a space of darkness and glitter, where men and women engage in dialogues that blur the line between reality and illusion. I strongly anticipate that it will reveal a new charm in shunga.
Kabukichō was once intended to host actual kabuki theater. Now, in this symbolic place of performing arts, we are invited to witness the refined world of shunga—an ultimate form of ukiyo-e. I am truly excited by this joyful fusion of Japanese culture.
Back in high school, one of my most vivid memories was when our social studies teacher suddenly exclaimed during class: “Listen, kids. Don’t watch pornographic videos. Read erotic books instead. It’s erotic books that nourish your imagination.” Mr. Tadokoro, it seems I’ve finally reached the pinnacle of imagination inspired by the Edo period.
Q: What is the significance of holding a Shunga exhibition at the Noh Stage in Shinjuku Kabukicho in 2025? (300–400 characters)
A: Holding a Shunga exhibition at the Noh Stage in Shinjuku Kabukicho in 2025 embodies the spirit of "Beautiful Foolishness" (BF Index). By placing Shunga, once considered taboo, on the solemn Noh stage, the exhibition boldly challenges expressive boundaries and questions social norms and institutional frameworks. Kabukicho, a space representative of chaos and desire, adds depth to this event. Shunga’s anonymous character, along with its blend of sensuality and humor, reveals values beyond capitalist efficiency and consumption. As the Global BF Index Promotion Committee, we fully support this significant milestone in reclaiming and expanding beautiful foolishness.
Comment: Just as generative AI predicted—perfectly said!
I used to perceive Shunga as merely "exciting erotic pictures," reflecting my biased preconception. However, upon exploring it further, I was amazed by the intricate techniques, poetic inscriptions, and layered storytelling that revealed a much richer world than I had imagined. The realization that Shunga was not only for a select few but enjoyed by everyone captivated me even more. I’m thrilled that today, in Kabukicho, we can once again connect with the laughter, awe, and sensations shared by people of the past.
Shunga—especially Hokusai’s "The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife" and Kunitora's exaggerated phallic characters—sparks the imagination of a monster-loving filmmaker like me. Eroticism is an inexhaustible aspect of life. To view Shunga is to experience the joy of being alive.
To engage seriously, act boldly with subtlety, and remain stylishly irreverent—that’s everything. It’s not about fame, rewards, self-fulfillment, approval, or numerical validation. It’s about elegance, wit, and grace. This attitude, now often overlooked in modern society, is something we must reclaim. It wasn't the Meiji era that erased Shunga; it’s us today who continue to deny it. We need to recognize that.
While Shunga is widely celebrated as a pinnacle of Japanese ukiyo-e art, it has long been seen as "obscene." From the postwar period up to the 2000s, genitals and even erotic words were censored in publications. Even now, some censorship persists in public exhibitions. Beyond Shunga, modern art still faces significant barriers to sexual expression. In this context, holding a Shunga exhibition in Kabukicho feels like "displaying things in their rightful place." I hope the venue becomes a space for open discussions about sexuality and life. And secretly… I dream of joining a beginner-friendly host club tour. Anyone care to join me?
My early encounters with sex—such as graffiti in public toilets and dirty magazines left by the riverbank—were grotesque and frightening. Just before adulthood, I discovered Shunga. In that world, men, women, and even beasts and yokai celebrated sexuality together. Even the vividly rendered genitals felt humorous rather than scary. The pure lines, beautiful compositions, and radiant colors of intertwined bodies overflowed with joy—completely free of shame. Shunga taught me that "sex" can be delightful and amusing. As someone once burdened with guilt and discomfort about being female, I felt liberated. To enjoy such an ancient treasure as Shunga in Kabukicho—the sacred pleasure district—is pure bliss. I want to savor it to the fullest.
For many years, I have enjoyed viewing contemporary art, both in Japan and abroad, with my children. After living overseas and returning to Japan, I am reminded of how important Kabukicho is as a hub of modern Japanese culture. At the same time, I find myself, as a mother, deeply interested in how the young people living here today lead their lives.
I’ve heard that shunga was a form of visual entertainment enjoyed by the townspeople of Edo, offering them various pleasures and laughter. As a mother and a person living in the present, I can’t help but reflect on the mental and physical state of people back then, as well as the social context they lived in.
I hope this shunga exhibition will provide an opportunity for both men and women today to reflect on their own hearts and bodies. It would be wonderful if it could also become a space for all generations, especially the younger ones, to discuss: “What can we do?” Through its vibrant sensuality, playful spirit, and surprising twists, shunga allows us to see “human beings who lived in their time,” transcending mere pleasure. With that perspective, I would like to use this exhibition as a way to examine how we live today as human beings.
To laugh warmly, to feel a little embarrassed, and to share in the experience of being alive, here and now. Perhaps that sense of solidarity and warmth is what is needed in Kabukicho — and in Japan — today.
For us rakugo performers, shunga is something familiar. Whether it’s the fabric of our under-kimonos, the lining of our haori coats, or the illustrations in books of bawdy stories, we encounter it more often than the average person.
Is shunga art or seduction? Is it a comic or a curiosity from ukiyo-e? It is not a direct reflection of life, but rather a world of exaggeration. When I consider why shunga came into being, whether by chance or necessity. I can't help but wonder. Because of its content, the Edo shogunate attempted to suppress it. Yet, centuries later, it can now be seen live in Kabukicho, the city of desire — how fascinating!
These passionate activities, where various feelings and bodies overlap, excite me. I sincerely wish for the success of this exhibition.
We live in an era where eroticism is easily accessible.
However, easily obtained eroticism often lacks laughter.
It is in the eroticism that remains just out of reach, the imagination that chases after it...that laughter is born.
Through the eroticism and humor depicted in shunga, I reflect on the imagination of the good old Japanese people.
When I view ukiyo-e, I often sense the origins of Japanese manga. Examining shunga is not merely about observing historical sexual expressions; it offers a valuable opportunity to understand the lives, values, and artistry of people in the Edo period. I genuinely hope that young people will appreciate this!
The first time I encountered shunga was not in a museum or gallery but in a room of a love hotel. The piece had a unique presence as part of the interior decor—glossy yet somehow humorous—and it left a strong impression on me. The venue for this exhibition is right in the heart of Kabukichō, surrounded by love hotels. There could hardly be a more fitting stage to savor the playful spirit and lively expressions of shunga.
To live joyfully in a world that is often considered uninteresting, it is best to appreciate the laughter and absurdity at the core of humanity and to feel life bursting forth. I believe that Japanese people were especially skilled in that art to begin with. These days, it seems people prefer to live neatly and cleanly, but isn’t minimalism only meaningful when there’s a touch of vulgarity? Doesn’t stillness arise from movement? That’s what I’ve been thinking lately. I look forward to an exhibition of shunga that inspires laughter.
Shunga gently reminds us of the diversity of sexuality as a joy of living, often hidden behind shame and taboo! Enjoy sex, be kinder, and create a society where we respect one another. Wishing happy sex for all humanity! (^O^)
Shunga is Japan’s proud traditional culture that depicts sex and life with humor and sometimes provocation. It is a shame that it has been treated as a “taboo” for so long! At its core, shunga was meant to portray sex more freely, with satire and laughter, embracing the full diversity of human existence. As someone born and raised in Kabukicho who loves the openness and diversity of this neighborhood, and as someone who has engaged with issues of “sex” and “life” through LGBTQ+ activism, I am truly looking forward to this exhibition filled with freedom, humor, and diversity!
The Edo period marked the dawn of commercial publishing. It wasn’t just the ruling class that read; even farmers and village leaders began to consume literature. In other words, everyone started reading the same books, accessing the same information, and developing similar thoughts. This may mark the origin of our modern condition, where people read the same content online and express the same opinions on social media.
Reflecting on publishing and reading during the Edo period compels us to confront the challenges of information in our current time. Shunga—vulgar yet artistic, oscillating between regulation and freedom—mirrors this dynamic. It poses a historical question while also presenting an opportunity for us to engage with it as both an artistic and ethical experience. This is closely related to how we view Kabukicho and the sex industry. To observe, to experience, to reflect, and to debate—this entire process is a powerful act of critique, regardless of one's stance. In any case, I urge you to see it first!
Harunobu, Utamaro, Hokusai, and Kuniyoshi all created shunga. You cannot discuss the imagery of Edo without considering shunga, which existed in both a negative and positive relationship with ukiyo-e.
Shunga, which captivated the people of Edo, is not only sensual but also amusing, visually beautiful, and rich with the subtleties of life. Now, its charm is returning to Kabukicho, Japan’s foremost nightlife district. Here, glittering neon meets the stillness of a Noh stage, where humor, sensuality, and humanity gently coexist. It’s something you can enjoy informally, and before you know it, your heart feels lighter. I hope the smiles and conversations sparked by shunga will spread across generations and transcend borders.
Don’t underestimate shunga; it was a cultural trailblazer. As a bookseller mentioned in the exhibition, “These days, customers have keen eyes; just jotting a few lines won’t hold their interest.” As a result, texts became densely written, resonating with rakugo storytelling. Among the pieces shown on video, the moon’s rabbit personified as a beautiful woman can be seen as a precursor to anime culture. In the Edo period, shunga was known as warai-e, or “pictures of laughter,” and also bore the “wa” mark (wa-in). In any era, when same-sex groups gather for drinks, the conversation often turns to sex. Why not let this exhibition serve as a humorous talking point?
Shunga is not only erotic; it also evokes laughter and is visually stunning.How wonderfully chic that this Edo playfulness is being revived today in Shinjuku Kabukicho. In the dignified setting of a Noh stage, this exhibition allows shunga to move freely. While depicting sexuality, shunga transcends gender and status, reflecting people’s lives, emotions, and humor, and connecting them through the art of wa (harmony). I found myself newly captivated by the world of shunga. I hope this becomes a place where shunga is not perceived as “forbidden to see,” but rather as something people want to experience, feel, and discuss together.
This was my first encounter with shunga. As obvious as it may sound, it felt profoundly human, reminding me that I, too, am simply human. The diverse graphic expressions, instinctively “cool” even by today’s standards, made me feel, as a painter, that I exist within that continuum of history.
Shinjuku and Shunga.
What came to my mind was a scene from Shūji Terayama’s film Throw Away Your Books, Rally in the Streets, where a young man has his first sexual experience. In the brothel setting in Shinjuku, shunga prints were strikingly displayed.
At that moment, shunga seemed to exist as a vivid presence, serving as a kind of avant-garde prop within Shinjuku, a cultural hub where anti-establishment and avant-garde intersected.
That was in 1971.
Fifty years later, I feel that here in the same Shinjuku, we are now able to enjoy shunga in a casual yet stylish way. There is absolutely no need for us to keep it hidden anymore. I hope many people will come to appreciate shunga with the same ease as drinking tea.
The world feels suffocating.
Living in times like these, our minds are surely filled with worries and inner conflicts, and I am no exception. Amid all that, I happened to drop by a shunga exhibition, and it shocked me.
The works were filled with refreshing eroticism and outrageous absurdity! My trivial worries were blown away! I couldn’t help but think, ‘Yes, yes! This is exactly what I’ve been looking for!’ and cheered in my heart.
Shunga is an explosion!!!
I had often seen them reproduced in art books.
Yet until I viewed them up close, I had never imagined they were preserved in such vivid colors, nor had I ever recognized them as such profoundly beautiful works of art.
There is a power and conviction that only the genuine article can convey—and above all, the sheer joy radiating from the people depicted!
In a country where sex and erotic customs are so often viewed through a prejudiced lens, there is immense significance in holding a shunga exhibition here in Kabukicho, a district long synonymous with sex and entertainment.
Copyright © Smappa! Group / SCRAMRICE Ltd. All Rights Reserved.