Introduction

An antique Japanese katana blade with visible curvature (sori) and temperline (hamon). The tang shows an aged patina and carved signature.
Advanced collectors of nihontō (Japanese swords) know that proper appraisal is both an art and a science. Each sword is a tangible piece of history, and careful examination can reveal its age, quality, and school of manufacture. In fact, by studying the overall shape and curvature (sugata) of a blade, one can often accurately estimate the era it was made​.

Every feature – from the steel’s grain to the temper pattern – holds clues about the sword’s origin. Serious appraisal (known as kantei, 鑑定) requires correlating these features with known examples and historical records. The goal is not only to authenticate the sword (distinguishing genuine antiques from gimei or forgeries) but also to appreciate its workmanship and determine its place within the great swordmaking traditions of Japan. Key characteristics such as the blade shape, grain pattern, temper line, and tang shape tend to be distinctive to particular schools or smiths​, making them invaluable for identification. Over centuries, Japanese connoisseurs have developed a disciplined approach to sword viewing, treating it as a formal ritual of respect and study. In this chapter, we provide a comprehensive guide to viewing and appraising Japanese swords at an advanced level – covering proper handling etiquette, detailed visual examination of blade features, tang assessment, expert identification techniques, and pitfalls to avoid.

Handling and Viewing Protocol

Proper handling is the first step in sword appreciation. Collectors must treat every blade with respect and caution to preserve its polish and avoid injury. The procedure for viewing a sword is often ritualized:

• Prepare and respect – Before touching a sword, ensure your hands are clean and dry. Ideally, wear white cotton gloves or hold a clean silk cloth (fukusa) in each hand. This prevents fingerprints or oils from contacting the steel and demonstrates respect for the sword. It’s customary to bow lightly toward the sword before handling it, acknowledging its cultural significance​.
• Drawing the blade – Hold the sword in tachi orientation (edge up). With your right hand firmly on the tsuka (hilt) and left hand holding the saya (scabbard), slowly withdraw the blade. Keep the back of the blade (mune) against the inside of the scabbard and the cutting edge (ha) facing upward. This way, the edge won’t scrape the inside of the saya. Be mindful and draw the blade straight out – any contact of the edge against the scabbard can scratch the finely polished ha. Once drawn, set the scabbard aside on your left on a clean surface​.
• Disassembling (if necessary) – For full examination, especially of the tang and signature, it may be necessary to remove the handle (tsuka). Use a wooden or brass mekugi-nuki (a small punch) to push out the retaining peg (mekugi) from the tsuka​. Carefully slide off the tsuka, followed by the habaki (blade collar) which sits above the tang​. All parts should be placed on a soft cloth in order. Never force any piece off; if a tsuka is stuck, an expert should handle it to avoid damage.
• Supporting the bare blade – With the sword now bare, hold the tang (nakago) securely with your right hand. Use a piece of washi paper, a soft cloth, or the fukusa in your left hand to support the blade’s spine or sides​. Do not touch the steel surface with bare fingers. Even gloved, avoid gripping the blade; instead cradle it gently. The idea is to prevent fingerprints, which can etch permanent marks in the steel if not cleaned.
• Optimal viewing conditions – Good lighting and positioning are crucial. Traditionally, swords are examined in natural light or under a single-point light source rather than diffuse lighting. Hold the blade at a low angle to the light and adjust the tilt or orientation to catch reflections along the surface. This technique, called hadamegari, makes details of the jihada and hamon visible as the light glints off the steel. Look down the length of the blade from various angles. A sword stand or padded surface can be used to rest one end of the blade (often a small sword pillow is placed under the tip), allowing hands-free viewing with two hands on the blade.
• Examine systematically – Inspect the blade from tang to tip in an organized sequence. Common practice is to start with the overall shape (length, curvature, profile), then move to the jihada (surface steel grain), then the hamon (temper line), including the boshi (hamon at the tip), and finally the tang and any mei (signature). Use the reflected light to reveal each of these aspects clearly. To see the hamon’s details, for example, you may need to rotate the blade slightly or move it up and down until the temper line illuminates and its pattern stands out​. Patience is key – subtle activities in the steel can appear and disappear with slight changes in lighting angle.
• Conclude respectfully – After completing the examination, wipe any fingerprints or moisture off the blade with soft cloth or tissue (if you touched it). Reassemble the sword carefully by reversing the disassembly steps: attach the habaki, slide the tsuka on (aligning the peg hole), insert the mekugi peg, and sheath the blade. Throughout reassembly, keep the edge facing up and away from you. When finished, give a final light bow of gratitude to the sword​. Always handle the sword as if it were razor sharp (because it is), and return it safely to its storage (saya or display rack) immediately after viewing.

Following these handling protocols protects both you and the sword. Advanced collectors treat sword viewing as a meditative ritual – it focuses the mind and shows reverence to the sword’s history and craftsmanship​. By handling the blade properly, you ensure it remains in pristine condition for future study.

Studying Jihada (地肌, Steel Grain)

One of the most fascinating aspects of a nihontō’s beauty lies in its jihada, the visible grain of the steel’s surface. This grain is the result of the swordsmith’s folding and forging process. During forging, the steel is folded multiple times, creating layers that appear as patterns on the blade once polished​. Depending on how the smith hammered and folded the billet, different patterns emerge. The composition of the steel (carbon content, impurities) and the smith’s technique also influence the jihada’s appearance​. A properly polished sword will reveal these patterns clearly – a good polish is essential for the jihada to be visible​

. Conversely, a blade with a dull polish, staining, or rust may show little to no grain, appearing “muji” (no pattern). Polishing can even bring out grain that was previously indiscernible​ Generally, a tight, uniform hada is a sign of a highly skilled smith, whereas a coarse or uneven hada might indicate lower skill or a tired blade​. That said, some smiths deliberately created prominent grains as part of their style, so one must distinguish intended pattern from careless forging​

Types of Jihada: There are several classic grain patterns, often linked to specific schools or regions. It’s common to see mixtures of patterns on one blade, but usually one type dominates. The main jihada types include:

• . In the Shinto period, smiths favored very fine itame (ko-itame) that can look almost featureless (muji) at first glance. Hizen province blades have a famous super-tight itame called konuka-hada (rice grain skin), which is essentially a tiny itame so uniform it was likened to powdered rice​.
• Mokume-hada (杢目肌) – A burl grain pattern with circular whirlpool-like figures (think of tree rings). Mokume features concentric loops and swirls quite unlike the streaks of itame. If you see obvious round “eyes” or burl patterns across the ji, that’s mokume. This hada was popular in many periods but is strongly associated with Bizen tradition, especially the Oei-Bizen school (1394–1428) whose smiths like Morimitsu and Yasumitsu produced bold mokume patterns​. A blade truly covered in mokume (rather than just a few burl spots) is distinctive – though often blades are mixed mokume and itame.
• Masame-hada (柾目肌) – A straight-line grain that runs longitudinally (parallel to the cutting edge). Masame looks like straight parallel fibers in the steel​. This pattern is most famously a hallmark of the Yamato tradition; for instance, blades of the Hōshō school from Nara feature prominent masame throughout, which is a key kantei point for that school​. Some Shinto-era smiths also adopted masame in parts of the blade (the Sendai Kunikane line made swords with masame). It’s common to see nagare-hada, where an itame grain has been stretched in one direction, looking like running masame mixed with itame. Yamato blades and late Koto Mino blades often show masame in the upper part of the blade (shinogi-ji) while having itame/mokume in the body​. Recognizing masame, especially localized masame, can help identify those schools.
• Ayasugi-hada (綾杉肌) – An undulating, wavy pattern often likened to a tatami mat or the grain inside a samisen (Japanese lute)​. The Gassan school is renowned for this hada (so much that ayasugi-hada is also called Gassan-hada)​. It appears as dramatic, regular waves or rolling hills in the steel. Early Gassan (Koto period) and revival Gassan smiths of the 19th century produced this distinctive pattern. Swords from Satsuma’s Naminohira school can also show a form of ayasugi-hada​. This pattern is unmistakable when visible – a beautiful example of a smith’s artistry in folding.
• Nashiji-hada (梨子地肌) – Also called “pear-skin” grain, this is an extremely fine mokume that is tiny and densely packed (resembling the skin of a pear). Nashiji-hada is so fine it can be hard to see without excellent lighting​. It’s a hallmark of the highest-quality early Kyoto blades (Awataguchi school in late Heian/Kamakura) and some Rai school works. In the Shinto era, Osaka smiths like Tsuda Sukehiro made a similar beautiful fine grain. Hizen blades attempted to emulate this and their konuka-hada is essentially a consistent ko-itame approaching nashiji​.
• Muji-hada (無地肌) – Not a pattern per se, but the term for when the grain is essentially invisible, giving a “plain” steel look. This can occur due to very fine forging or certain polishing methods that suppress the hada. Many highly refined Shinto blades have a muji appearance at first glance. However, modern polishes can sometimes bring out patterns in blades once thought to be muji​. If a blade truly has no visible hada, it’s often called muji-mono; some later Edo period blades and mass-produced guntō blades have this look (or an intentionally surface-polished muji).

In practice, a sword’s jihada might be described with combinations: e.g. “itame mixed with mokume, with masame in the shinogi-ji.” Advanced appraisal notes such details because they are strong clues. For example, an itame with dense ji-nie (small bright crystals in the grain) and dark chikei lines might suggest a Soshu-den work, whereas a bright, clear ko-itame with no visible pattern might suggest a 17th-century Osaka blade. Chikei (地景), which are dark, curving lines within the ji, and yubashiri (湯走り), patches of harder steel in the ji that appear like “floating” spots, are activities in the steel that seasoned collectors watch for. These features, along with a sprinkling of ji-nie (tiny hard martensite crystals in the ji), add complexity to the hada. A skilled polisher will bring out such hataraki in the jihada without making them too pronounced​

– there is a balance, as over-polishing can make grain too coarse or even polish it away.

When examining jihada, use a magnifying loupe or just very good lighting at a shallow angle. Look at how the grains flow, how they change near the edge or the ridge, and note any irregularities or ware (flaws like openings between layers). Polishing techniques can affect hada visibility: a traditional sashikomi polish will show the jihada and internal activities very clearly, whereas a hadori polish (which adds a frosted whitish outline to the hamon) may slightly mask the jihada contrast. Modern hybrid polishes sometimes use mild etching to highlight grain, but an experienced eye can tell natural hada from acid-enhanced patterns. It’s worth noting that over-polishing a sword over centuries can thin the steel so much that the outer layer (kawagane) is worn through, exposing core steel (shingane) – such a blade is called “tired” (sug疲れ)​. A tired blade may show patchy soft metal or rougher texture where core is exposed, which is a condition issue affecting collectability.

Each region had its hallmark jihada: for instance, Yamashiro tradition favors a fine mokume/itame with nie (often yielding nashiji on top pieces), Yamato tradition shows linear masame, Bizen often a visible wood grain itame with utsuri (whitish shadowy patterns) appearing, Mino blades a mix of itame and masame with patches of whitish shirake utsuri in late Muromachi, etc. With experience, a collector learns these “fingerprints” of jihada. Appreciating jihada is one of the great joys of sword collecting – under proper light, the surface of a great sword looks like flowing water or wood grain, a natural artwork created by steel and fire. Take your time to let the hada reveal itself; as the saying goes, the jihada is the skin of the sword, and a healthy, beautiful skin is the mark of a master craftsman.

Studying Sugata (姿, Blade Shape)

The overall shape (sugata) of a Japanese sword is the first big clue to its identity. Swords evolved in form over the centuries, responding to changes in warfare, armor, and fashion. An experienced collector can often place a blade within a general timeframe by its silhouette alone. When assessing sugata, consider the sword’s length, curvature, blade width (mihaba), thickness (kasane), profile (taper or funbari), the shape of the point (kissaki), and the shape of the tang (nakago). These attributes, taken together, are strongly indicative of certain periods and schools.

Heian to early Kamakura (10th–12th centuries): The earliest true nihontō (as opposed to straight ancient swords) were long tachi meant for cavalry combat. A typical late Heian blade is very long (around 30 inches or more) with elegant deep curvature concentrated near the base (koshi-zori)​. They are usually narrow with a noticeable taper from the base to the point (strong funbari) and have a small kissaki (ko-kissaki). These graceful blades were effective for slashing from horseback. Many Heian blades surviving today have been heavily polished down and even shortened over time; one often finds their hamon very faint or the kissaki reshaped due to centuries of polish​. Collectors accept a degree of wear in such ancient blades given their rarity. Early Kamakura blades (late 12th to early 13th century) continue this style initially, but as armor improved, swords began to beef up.

Mid to Late Kamakura (13th century): By the mid-Kamakura period, tachi became broader and less tapered to better deal with armor​. The deepest point of curvature moved up to the middle of the blade (tori-zori), rather than just at the base. We also see the emergence of the ikubi-kissaki (“boar’s neck” snub-nosed tip) in some mid-Kamakura blades​ – these are stout short kissaki that appear almost blunt, a design believed to prevent the tip from snapping against armor. By late Kamakura (early 14th century), many swords had a moderate curve, slightly shorter length (perhaps 26–28 inches), a bit less taper, and a medium-sized point (chu-kissaki)​. This shape – with chu-kissaki, moderate funbari, and tori-zori – became a very balanced and common style that would carry into the next period. Famous schools like the Ichimonji (Bizen) at this time made some flamboyant shapes: very wide blades with elegant curve and large kissaki for their 13th-century masterpieces.

Nanbokuchō (mid 14th century): This period saw some of the most extreme sword shapes. Blades grew huge in both length and width, some exceeding 90 cm in nagasa (blade length). Many 14th-century 𝑛𝑒𝑛𝑝𝑦𝑒𝑡 swords were made almost as ōdachi (great swords). A hallmark of Nanbokuchō is blades that are very wide at the base with little or no taper (sometimes almost the same width at tip), relatively thin in thickness, with a shallow curvature and a massive kissaki (o-kissaki). The overall impression is a grand, broad weapon – reflecting the fierce warfare of the period. Such swords often had to be shortened in later eras to be practical (many surviving ones are ō-suriage mumei now). It’s breathtaking to encounter an ubu (unshortened) Nanbokuchō blade – their dimensions are unlike any other period. This era also produced many hira-zukuri no-kissaki blades (especially long tanto or ko-dachi without ridgeline) as diversifications of style​

Muromachi (15th–16th centuries): Early Muromachi still saw some large tachi, but a major shift occurred mid-century: the rise of the uchigatana. As warfare tactics transitioned from cavalry to infantry foot soldiers, excessively long swords became impractical​​. The uchigatana was a shorter sword (often 60–70 cm) worn at the waist, edge up, which could be drawn and struck in one motion. Many earlier long tachi were cut down to uchigatana length around this time (hence the term suriage tachi). A typical Muromachi katana (especially late 15th century) is around 70 cm (27–28 inches) long, has a more modest curvature (often with a bit of saki-zori, meaning the deepest part of curve is toward the tip)​, and has a chu-kissaki. The blade is not as wide at the base as Nanbokuchō pieces, and there is less taper (funbari) than Kamakura ones – a fairly straight profile overall. Late Muromachi (16th c. Sengoku era) saw a lot of utilitarian weapons: many blades became somewhat wider and thicker again, with slightly larger kissaki, to serve in the brutal battlefield conditions​. However, because styles varied by region, one also finds slender, elegant swords still being made in the 1500s in certain schools. Generally, though, a mid-16th century sword can look similar to a late-Kamakura piece but usually with less graceful curvature and a more robust build. Also, the practice of using two hands was fully adopted by this time, influencing sword length and balance​

Edo Period / Shintō (17th–18th centuries): With the establishment of peace under the Tokugawa shogunate (early 1600s), swords evolved again. During the early Edo, since there were fewer real battles, the sword became less of a purely military weapon and more a status symbol and art object (though still fully functional). The Kanbun era (c. 1660s) style is well known: these katana have a very shallow curvature (almost straight), are a bit shorter on average (around Katana ~ 26–28 inches), and have a stout build with a Chu-kissaki​. Kanbun Shintō blades often look straight when worn, a drastic change from the elegant curves of earlier times – this is thought to reflect a revival of interest in the simpler forms and perhaps influence from straight Chinese sabers. As the Edo period progressed, swordsmiths in different regions developed their own preferences, but many Shintō blades share traits: a consistent curvature (not too deep), often tapering very little from base to tip (giving a robust feeling), a medium kissaki, and clean lines. Because polish and aesthetics became very important, Shintō blades are often perfectly symmetric in shape and without the wild dimensions of Koto blades. By the late Edo (18th–19th century), some smiths began copying Kamakura or Nanbokuchō shapes as part of a fukko (revival) movement – so you might find a late Edo katana that is extremely wide with an enormous kissaki, imitating a 14th-century style. But generally, most Edo-period katana have what we consider the “classic samurai sword” look: around 70 cm, gentle curvature, balanced proportions. It was noted that in the late 1700s some swords were made more for display – extremely flamboyant hamon, excessive carvings – as the sword was by then less a combat tool. This is sometimes referred to as a period of decadence for sword art, but many masterpieces were still made.

Shinshintō (Late 18th–19th centuries): The late Edo revival brought back many old shapes. Swordsmiths like Suishinshi Masahide spearheaded a return to Koto aesthetics​. Thus, a Shinshintō sword might deliberately emulate a Kamakura tachi (with koshizori and ko-kissaki) or a Nambokuchō style (ō-kissaki and wide mihaba) or any other classical style. This makes shape analysis trickier – a blade made in 1850 could look like one from 1350. However, Shinshintō pieces tend to be very heavy in construction (thick kasane), often with less distal taper. If you hold one, it may feel more top-heavy or hefty than an antique of similar shape. Many are also flawlessly preserved (since they are newer), whereas true Kamakura pieces usually show some age and wear. Shinshintō tangs will have signatures and dates of the 1800s, of course, which clarifies matters if present. The key for the advanced collector is to use sugata in combination with nakago examination to tell revival work from genuine Muromachi or Kamakura work.

While shape is primarily dictated by era, certain schools had nuances. For example, the Bizen Osafune school in the 14th–15th century favored graceful koshizori and sometimes slightly longer kissaki; the Mino school in late Muromachi made many swords with slightly straighter shape and pointed togari (pointed) boshi, etc. Learning these subtleties can further narrow down origin. But as a foundation, always place the sword in its chronological context first by sugata. Is it slender and deeply curved? Likely Kamakura. Thick and straight? Perhaps Kanbun Shintō. Long and broad with shallow sori? Nanbokuchō or a revival of it. Short and utilitarian? Late Muromachi. This thought process is fundamental in kantei.

Don’t forget to inspect the nakago (tang) as part of sugata. The tang shape and condition give away both age and sometimes school. Very old Koto swords often have tangs that are dark blackish with centuries of patina, and the tang may have been greatly shortened (ō-suriage, losing its original shape). Most shortened tangs will end in a straight cut across (kiri nakago-jiri)​, since the polisher simply cut the metal. In contrast, an original ubu tang might have a specific shape filed: common tang-end shapes include kurijiri (rounded like the end of a chestnut), ha-agari (angle cut with the ha side higher), kengyō (pointed symmetrical), iryamagata (asymmetrical peak), etc. For example, the Sōshū tradition often shows a kurijiri tang end, while many Shintō Edo smiths used kengyō. If you see a tang that is cut flat, especially with the patina appearing evenly old on the cut, it’s likely the blade was shortened long ago (common for early blades to be cut down in later periods)​. Also examine the yasurime (file marks) on the tang. Different schools had preferred tang filing patterns – sujikai (diagonal down towards tip) and ō-sujikai (steeper diagonal) are often seen on Kamakura/Nambokuchō blades and many Edo blades; kiri-yasuri (horizontal file marks) are typical on some Koto Bizen and Shinto Osaka works; katte-agari (slanting up) vs katte-sagari (slanting down) are variations used by certain smith lineages; higaki (cross-hatched “chrysanthemum” file marks) famously appears on some Yamato Shizu blades and Satsuma swords​. Advanced collectors use tang shape and yasurime as additional kantei points. Of course, the presence of a mei (signature) on the tang can be the most direct clue – but as we’ll discuss, mei require careful scrutiny for authenticity.

In summary, take a step back and view the sword’s silhouette and tang before getting lost in the minutiae. The sugata is like the sword’s “body language” – it will often tell you the time period and sometimes the region. Comparing the sword in hand to known reference examples from books or museum collections (many of which illustrate typical shapes of each era​) is extremely useful. With practice, you’ll immediately recognize a Kamakura tachi versus an Edo katana simply by their stance. Sugata is arguably the most important factor in kantei – it sets the stage for all other observations​. Always judge shape first, then move on to the finer details.

Studying Hamon (刃文, Temper Line)

Perhaps the most visually captivating feature of a Japanese blade is the hamon, or temper line, which runs along the cutting edge. The hamon is the result of differential hardening: when the swordsmith quenches the hot blade, the edge (coated thinner with clay or left partly exposed) hardens into martensitic steel while the rest of the blade cools slower and remains tougher. This process creates a visible boundary where the crystal structure changes. The hamon’s literal meaning is “edge pattern,” and indeed it appears as a patterned line following the edge. Originally, the hamon was a purely functional indicator – it shows that the edge is fully hardened for cutting. However, smiths quickly realized they could control the shape of the hamon for artistic effect. Over time, countless styles of hamon were developed, becoming signatures of schools and individuals. A well-designed hamon not only is beautiful but also contributes to the blade’s resilience by limiting how cracks propagate during use​

When examining a hamon, lighting is key. Use an angled light source (a flashlight or lamp) glancing off the blade to make the hamon appear. Often the hamon will look whitish or bright compared to the darker body of the blade when light catches it. Moving the blade under light can make the hamon “flare” into view. Polishing style affects this too: a traditional polish often leaves the hamon slightly frosted or matt in appearance (especially with hadori finish), which can make it stand out as white against a grey body. In other conditions, the hamon might appear a subtle difference in luster or color (for instance, in direct light it may look like a silver mist). Train yourself to adjust the blade’s angle until the hamon’s outline is sharply visible. Then trace it mentally from the machi (notch at the start of edge) all the way through the boshi (tip area).

Hamon styles: Broadly, hamon are categorized as either straight or irregular. In Japanese terms: suguha (直刃) refers to a straight hamon with little deviation, and midare-ba (乱れ刃) refers to an “irregular” hamon that undulates​. If midare, there are further descriptive subtypes based on the pattern’s shape​

• Notare (湾れ) – a wavy, undulating hamon with wide gentle waves like ocean swells.
• Gunome (互の目) – a repeating scallop or zig-zag pattern, often described as a row of semi-circles or “cloves”. Gunome can be large or small, regular or irregular.
• Chōji (丁子) – literally “clove pattern”, which looks like a series of cloves or flower petals. This is essentially a specific type of gunome-midare with rounded tops and narrow necks, resembling a string of clover shapes. Classic Bizen swords (Ichimonji school) are famed for exuberant ō-choji hamon.
• Tōran (濤瀾) – a “billowing waves” pattern, basically a larger notare-midare with rolling wave-like peaks.
• Hitatsura (皆焼, “full temper”) – a special case where the hamon is so extensive that it spreads over much of the blade with patches of hardening even in the ji. Hitatsura looks like a wild midare where areas above the main hamon are also hardened (spots of tobiyaki, etc.)​. It’s seen mainly in late Muromachi Soshu-influenced works (e.g., Sengo Muramasa blades often have hitatsura). Hitatsura is not a shape per se but a condition of having temper all over.

There are countless variations and combinations – smiths often mixed patterns, e.g. gunome-choji-midare (gunome and choji mixed), notare-gunome, etc. Many hamon names in appraisal descriptions get very granular (e.g., “sanbonsugi” – a Mino pattern of triple clove shapes, or “ya-ha” arrow feather pattern, etc.), but the above are main categories. An advanced collector will memorize which hamon styles were favored by which traditions: e.g. the Yamato schools usually did suguha or gentle notare; Kamakura Bizen did flamboyant choji-midare; Mino did gunome-midare often with togari (pointed gunome); Soshu did wild midare with lots of nie; Edo-period Hizen blades often did a uniform ko-midare or suguha; etc. This helps immensely in identification.

Examine not just the shape outline of the hamon, but also its internal characteristics, collectively called hataraki (“activities” or workings in the hamon). A truly great hamon is like a night sky of activity when viewed under light – it’s full of details that indicate the skill of the smith and the quality of the quench. Key hataraki to look for include:

• Nioi and Nie: These are the fundamental structures of the hamon. Nioi (匂) is a fine, misty crystalline structure – it looks like a faint cloud or haze defining the hamon’s boundary. Nie (沸) are larger individual martensite crystals that sparkle like tiny grains or stars​markussesko.com. If you see the hamon edge glittering with little bright dots, that’s nie. Some swords have a nioi-deki hamon (mostly nioi, very fine grain, typical of many Bizen and Shinto hamon), others are nie-deki (packed with nie, typical of Soshu masterpieces)​japaneseswordindex.com. Often it’s intermediate with ko-nie (small nie grains)​. Recognizing the difference is important: nie gives a rougher, brighter appearance and often accompanies more vibrant hataraki like kinsuji, whereas nioi hamon appear smoother and more silvery.
• Ashi (足, “legs”): These are downward streaks of softer pattern extending from the hamon toward the edge​japaneseswordindex.com. They look like small thin lines or fingers of hamon that dip into the hardening. Ashi are commonly seen in midare hamon – for instance, choji-midare often has ashi dropping from each clove, giving the pattern a more detailed look. Functionally, ashi are said to help stop fractures by segmenting the hardened edge. When viewing, ashi will appear as slightly darker lines cutting through the hamon outline. Long ashi are a hallmark of good Bizen work.
• Yō (葉, “leaves”): Similar to ashi but usually referring to streaks that curve or appear on the upper part of the hamon towards the ji. They are like little offshoots or “leaves” inside the hamon pattern.
• Sunagashi (砂流し, “sand streaks”): These are intricate, feathery lines often seen paralleling the hamon or sweeping within it, looking like brush strokes or trails of sand. Sunagashi usually manifests in nie-rich hamon. They can appear as darkish cloudy streaks or bright lines depending on lighting. Often, sunagashi accompanies hitatsura or wild midare, especially Soshu-den blades. If you hold the blade just right, you might see the hamon filled with fine streaks – that’s sunagashi, indicating the steel’s layers interacting with the hardening.
• Kinsuji and Inazuma (金筋・稲妻, “golden lines” and “lightning”): These are perhaps the most prized hataraki. They are bright, shining lines of hardened steel that flash in the hamon or ji​. Kinsuji typically refers to a sharp, thin line running longitudinally in or along the hamon, looking like a thread of gold. Inazuma (lightning) are similar, often more jagged or forked, sometimes between the hamon and the body​. These occur due to bands of higher carbon or sudden cooling effects. Kinsuji and inazuma are frequently seen in top Soshu works (Masamune’s blades are famously full of kinsuji) and good late Kamakura Bizen pieces. They can be tricky to spot – one needs the right light angle to catch them. But once seen, they appear as if someone etched a fine line of light into the steel. The presence of plentiful kinsuji/sunagashi is a strong indicator of a masterpiece level blade.
• Uchinoke: These are small semi-circular sweepings at the edge of the hamon, often looking like tiny hooks or crescents just outside the hamon line​. They can occur when the quench causes little hardened spots that then get partially tempered back. Uchinoke are sometimes seen in midare hamon of Soshu/Mino blades. They appear as whitish half-moon shapes overlapping the hamon outline.
• Nijūba & Sanjūba: Meaning double or triple hamon lines – occasionally a sword will have a secondary hamon line running parallel to the main one (often faint). This is a quenching artifact that can be quite beautiful, giving a “shadow” hamon. Some late Shinto smiths deliberately made double hamon.
• Boshi: Although a part of hamon, the boshi (the tempered pattern in the point) deserves special attention. Examine how the hamon runs into the kissaki. Common boshi styles are komaru (small turn-back in a semicircle)​, jizō (like the silhouette of a Jizō Buddha’s head, a specific rounded style), midare-komi (hamon pattern continues irregularly into the boshi) often ending in hakikake (brush-stroke like streaks at the tip) or yakizume (hamon runs off the tip with no turnback). The boshi is crucial for authentication and health of a blade – if the boshi is missing (burnt off by over-polishing or broken), that’s a fatal flaw. So note if the boshi is intact and what pattern it follows. For example, Rai school blades typically have a gentle jizō boshi, whereas Mino blades might have a straight yakizume boshi, etc.

All these activities require a proper polish to be visible. A dull or amateur polish might make a hamon look lifeless or even obscure it entirely. In some traditionally polished blades, the polisher uses a hazuya stone to whiten the hamon (creating the frosty look in a hadori polish), which can make certain fine details like ashi or kinsuji a bit harder to see unless you look closely under angled light. In a sashikomi (old style) polish, the hamon is less cosmetically enhanced, so you might more easily see internal activities but the hamon will appear less starkly white. Understanding how polish affects what you see is part of advanced appreciation.

Now, hamon interpretation also plays into kantei. Certain hamon patterns are strongly associated with schools: e.g., choji-midare with long ashi and yo → Bizen (especially Fukuoka Ichimonji)​; suguha with ko-nie → many schools but if combined with certain jihada could scream Yamashiro; sudare-ba (curtain pattern) → Gassan copies or Yokoyama Bizen; sanbonsugi (triple cedars) → Mino Kanefusa line, etc. Additionally, how the nioi-guchi (the hamon line) looks – is it tight and consistent or wide and billowing? Bright or dull? – factors into quality judgments. A “tight nioi-guchi with bright consistent nioi” is often praised in Shinto blades, whereas “coarse nie with exuberant hataraki” might describe a top Soshu piece.

One should also learn to distinguish a natural hamon from an etched hamon on modern replicas. Many fake or low-end swords have acid-etched hamon that lack the fine activities. They look overly uniform and, under magnification, you won’t see the crystal structures (nioi/nie) – instead it’s just a cloudy line etched on. A true hamon will show the granular nioi texture and is part of the steel, not just a surface effect.

When viewing hamon, move your eyes along the blade in sections. Study the monouchi (the portion near the tip which was the main cutting area) – is the hamon there healthy and present? Check the boshi carefully – does it turn back properly? Look for any breaks in the hamon (a spot where the hamon line is hard to see or disappears – a potential fatal flaw called hamon ware or yaki-dashi issues). Luckily, most flaws in the hamon are obvious, but sometimes a hamon can be very faint if a blade was tired or over-polished. Advanced collectors might even use a small magnifying glass in good light to hunt for tiny kinsuji or nebulae of nie.

In summary, the hamon is the “soul” of the sword’s edge – it reveals the blade’s functional design and the smith’s artistic intent. Appreciate it both from a distance (the overall pattern) and up close (the myriad hataraki within it). A masterpiece blade will keep revealing new aspects the more you study the hamon. Comparing hamon with reference oshigata (sketches) or photographs of known blades by a certain smith can confirm attributions; many smiths had unique hamon signatures. For instance, if you suspect a blade is by Hizen Tadahiro, you’d look for the tight nioi-deki midare with ashi that he was known for, and compare with references. The hamon, along with jihada, forms the primary “fingerprint” of a swordsmith​. Thus, studying it in detail is both an enjoyable aesthetic experience and a critical analytical exercise in kantei.

An antique katana blade viewed under angled light, revealing a bright midare hamon. Note the irregular clove-like waves and the nioi-based “white” line of the hamon, with some ashi (small streaks) descending from the peaks.

As you become more experienced, you’ll start to recognize even very subtle traits – like a slightly wider habuchi (hamon border) peppered with nie that might indicate Soshu influence, or a very straight, consistent hamon that might indicate a Kazusa or Yamato blade. You’ll also come to appreciate the hamon for its sheer beauty – the way it looks like a frosty ripple or a flash of lightning frozen in steel. This is the unique magic of nihontō: functional beauty. The hamon exemplifies that concept.

Assessing Nakago (茎, Tang) and Mei (銘, Signature)

The nakago (tang) of a Japanese sword is its identity tag and a time capsule. It is the portion of the blade that is not polished or visible when mounted, so it retains a raw, untouched surface that can tell us a lot about the sword’s origin and age. Advanced collectors pay close attention to the tang’s shape, color, filemarks, and inscription (if present) for clues in appraisal.

Start by observing the tang’s patina. Older swords develop a rich reddish-brown to black patina on the nakago over centuries. A Kamakura-period blade, for example, will often have a very dark, almost blackish patina with a slightly mottled texture from rusting and aging over 700+ years. Shinto and Shinshintō blades (Edo period) typically show a chocolate-brown patina, not as dark as very old blades. Modern gendaitō tangs might still be relatively light or smooth in patina (unless artificially darkened). The patina should look natural – a subtle matte finish with fine granular texture. If you see freshly filed metal or bright steel on a tang that is supposed to be old, that’s a red flag. The tang should never be cleaned or scrubbed to bare metal; doing so destroys historical evidence and value. Collectors actually value a nice old patina (called nai-kome) as it confirms the sword’s antiquity. Be suspicious of a tang that looks unnaturally black or corroded in a uniform way – sometimes forgers or unscrupulous dealers will acid-treat or heat-treat a tang to fake an aged look. A fake patina can appear blotchy, etched, or overly pitted in a way that doesn’t match the blade’s supposed age. By examining enough genuine swords, you develop a feel for what a 500-year-old patina vs a 150-year-old patina looks like.

Next, examine the yasurime (file marks) on the tang. These are the diagonal, horizontal, or cross-hatched lines left by the smith’s file when finishing the tang. Yasurime patterns were often distinctive to schools or periods. Common styles include: sujikai (slanting downwards), kiri (horizontal straight across), nanako or kesho (a decorative, often angled style that can look like hash marks), katte-sagari (diagonal slanting down toward the tip), katte-agari (slanting up toward the tip), ō-sujikai (large angle slant), takanoha (a cross pattern resembling bird’s feathers), higaki (criss-cross like a wood-grain pattern)​, etc. For example, many Muromachi Mino blades have katte-sagari yasurime; the Satsuma province smiths often did a unique higaki (cross-hatch) yasuri; Hizen Tadayoshi school did very finely executed kiri-yasuri (horizontal) often; late Edo Osaka smiths like Tsuda Sukehiro did a cosmetic kesho-yasuri with both diagonal and horizontal sections neatly done. If the sword is signed (ubu mei), typically the filemarks will be neatly executed around the signature. If a sword was shortened, new filemarks might have been added when the new tang was shaped – those often are kiri style (straight cut) because it’s simplest, and that’s why so many suriage tangs just show horizontal filing​. Advanced kantei can sometimes use yasurime to distinguish smiths (for instance, two smiths with similar names might be told apart by the fact one used sujikai and the other used katte-sagari). Thus, note the yasurime pattern and see if it matches the purported school of the blade.

Now, one of the most important tang features: the mei (銘), or signature. Not all swords have a signature – in fact many old blades are unsigned (mumei), and some had signatures that were lost when shortened (suriage). But if there is a mei, it can provide the smith’s name, title, sometimes date, and other information. Reading mei is itself a deep field requiring knowledge of cursive kanji styles and common signature practices. For advanced collectors, beyond reading the mei, the critical skill is authenticating it. False signatures (gimei) are extremely common on Japanese swords. Why? Because in historical times and modern times, lesser blades were sometimes given the signature of a famous smith to increase value. For example, there are many more blades with “Masamune” or “Muramasa” signatures in existence than those smiths could possibly have made – fakers in later eras put those illustrious names on average swords. Even in the samurai era, a merchant might sell a sword signed “Kotetsu” which was not actually made by the great Kotetsu. So never take a mei at face value without scrutiny. As one expert quipped: if you see a very famous name on a sword, assume it’s false until proven true, because the likelihood of gimei is high​. Conversely, if a signature is of an obscure smith, it’s more likely to be genuine (because fakers rarely bothered with no-name smiths).

How do experts verify mei? First, by comparing the signature’s engraving style (the stroke order, shape of characters, depth and confidence of chisel work) to reference rubbings of known genuine signatures (oshigata in books). They look at each kanji: are the proportions correct? Does the chisel cut have the right angle and depth as the real one? A genuine mei by a skilled smith is often very gracefully cut, with strokes that show confidence and style, whereas a gimei might have awkward or “scratchy” strokes that a polisher or amateur cut later​. For example, the renowned Yukihira of Bungo province signed in a distinctive way – any deviation and it’s suspect​. The placement of the mei on the tang is also telling: most schools had conventions about which side of the tang (omote or ura) and where along the tang the smith signed (near the top under the habaki, or toward the bottom, etc.). If a signature is oddly placed, it might have been added later. The language of the mei is a clue too – some use titles (e.g., “Izumi no Kami Kunisada”), some use art names. Dates are sometimes inscribed on the opposite side; a surprising number of blades with added dates like “a lucky day in August of 1943” on an ostensibly old blade clearly scream fake or modern commemorative inscription.

When evaluating a mei, also consider if it “matches” the blade. If the blade’s style and quality don’t match what that smith is known for, the mei is likely false. For instance, a blade signed “Yasutsugu” (a top Edo smith) but having a crude, low-quality hada and hamon is probably gimei – an authentic Yasutsugu would exhibit very tight jihada, often have a specific blue tint to steel, etc. Conversely, sometimes a blade looks so much like a certain famous smith’s work that even if it’s unsigned you suspect it’s by them – and indeed many top blades had their mei removed in past eras to avoid confiscation or to get re-attributed by later experts. The NBTHK (the main Japanese sword appraisal body) will issue papers attributing an unsigned blade to a smith in such cases.

If a mei is determined to be gimei, advanced collectors often have it removed (expert polishers can file off the fake signature and refinish the tang) so the blade can be appreciated on its true merits without the distraction of a false name. An authentic blade with a false signature is usually worth more after removing the gimei and papering it to the real maker.

Focus also on any other tang inscriptions: some tangs have dates (年紀), which are wonderful for pinning down age. Others have test cut inscriptions (tameshi-mei), or ownership marks. For example, you might see “享保二年八月日” on a tang – that’s a date (August of Kyōhō 2, which is 1717). Or a phrase like “Hachiman Daibosatsu” on a tang, which some smiths inscribed as a charm. These can all enrich the sword’s story.

 Close-up of a katana’s nakago (tang) with a carved signature. The tang shows a dark brown patina from age. The file mark style is katte-sagari. The mei here includes a date inscription.
When you inspect the nakago, handle it with gloves or cloth because the patina can be marred by finger oils. A single fingerprint can etch into the rust patina and show up later. So hold by the edges or use a cloth.

In kantei, the nakago is often hidden initially (to avoid bias from mei). Judges examine shape, jihada, hamon, etc., and only afterward is the tang revealed for confirmation. But when you are appraising a sword outside of a contest, you will examine the tang as part of the whole. The nakago can confirm your deduction (e.g., you think “this looks like late Muromachi Mino work,” and indeed the tang has two holes and katte-sagari yasuri and is unsigned – consistent with many Sue-Mino blades). Or it might raise questions (the blade looks Kamakura, but the tang is signed by a Shinto smith – likely gimei scenario).

One more critical thing: the state of the nakago can indicate if the blade was altered. Check the shape of the tang tip (nakago-jiri) and the position/number of mekugi-ana (peg holes). A very old blade often has multiple holes (one from original mount, one or more from remounts later). If the tip of the tang is cut off (usually straight across), that means it’s suriage (shortened). If it’s ō-suriage (greatly shortened), usually no signature remains (unless a portion was saved and reattached called gaku-mei​

nihontoart.com, which is rare). Sometimes you will see part of a signature low on the tang – often indicating it was cut through. These are things to factor into authentication. A shortened blade can still be attributed to a famous smith, but the mei is gone so it relies on kantei points. Some shortened blades have inscriptions added by later appraisers, like “Masamune” in ink, but those aren’t official.

Also, the tang length and taper can be hints: Koto tangs tend to be slightly more crude and can taper more dramatically. Shinto tangs are often well-finished, with less taper (a thicker nakago). The feel of the tang in hand (of course careful) can also tell you hardness – old ones are often quite hard (from age-hardened rust).

To illustrate the importance of mei verification: a well-known example is the many “Sukesada” blades. Sukesada was a Bizen lineage with many generations; it’s said that especially in later periods, Sukesada signed blades range widely in quality. Dealers often caution: just because it’s signed Sukesada doesn’t mean that Sukesada (could be a student or a gimei). One must compare to authenticated references. Another case: Yasumitsu of Oei period Bizen – one source mentions there’s about a 70% chance of any given “Yasumitsu” mei being false because he was so copied. Thus, advanced collectors compile reference books (mei dictionaries like the Meikan) or use services like NBTHK shinsa to validate signatures.

Beyond authenticity, the presence of a mei can add context: if a sword is signed and dated, you can place it exactly in history. For instance, a mei that says “Kanbun ni-nen, Hizen kuni Tadayoshi” tells you it was made in 1662 by the second-gen Tadayoshi – you then evaluate if the workmanship matches that skilled smith (if it does, wonderful; if not, something’s off). If a blade is mumei, you rely on the blade’s attributes alone, which is why those need to be strong to get an attribution paper.

In summary, treat the nakago as the DNA of the sword. The color, shape, and signature (or lack thereof) are immensely important in appraisal. The tang is also where any fatal flaws of identity reside – a gimei mei, an altered shape, etc. Uncovering those is part of an advanced evaluation. Many beginners overly fixate on the signature (the excitement of “it’s signed by so-and-so!”). With experience, you learn a famous name on the tang is just the beginning of investigation. You will verify it against books, analyze the chiseling, and consider whether the rest of the sword lives up to that name. A genuine signed masterpiece is a pinnacle of collecting; a gimei, while disappointing, might still be a great sword once properly attributed to the real maker. The nakago and mei, therefore, play both practical and scholarly roles: they help authenticate and contextualize the blade, and they also provide aesthetic enjoyment (appreciating a beautifully cut mei or the elegant shape of an old tang). An experienced collector can recognize a smith’s tang habits much like recognizing an artist’s brush strokes.

Advanced Appraisal (Kantei, 鑑定)

Armed with knowledge of all the features above – sugata, jihada, hamon, and nakago – an advanced collector can attempt what is known as kantei: the art of identifying and appraising a sword’s origin. Kantei is essentially a process of deduction and comparison. Experts use a systematic approach, honed by years of study and seeing many blades, to pinpoint when and where a sword was made and even who made it.

A classical kantei method proceeds in steps: 1) Determine the era/period, 2) Determine the tradition or school, 3) Determine the smith (or at least narrowed candidates). We implicitly follow these steps when analyzing any sword.

• Step 1: Era – The overall sugata is the primary indicator here, as discussed. In kantei contests, this is why shape is examined first with the tang covered. One notes the curvature, length, kissaki, etc., and places the blade in a general timeframe (Heian, Kamakura, Nambokuchō, Muromachi, Shinto, Shinshintō, etc.). For example, if you see a slender tachi with ko-kissaki and deep koshizori, you’d say “Kamakura period, probably early 13th c.” If you see almost no curvature and a chunky shape, you might say “late Edo period”. This narrows the field immensely. You’ll also consider overall workmanship level – certain eras had higher or lower average quality – and any giveaway traits (like a very long kissaki suggests late Kamakura or Nambokuchō). Deciding whether a blade is Koto (pre-1600) or Shinto (post-1600) is a fundamental branching point. Things like presence of core steel (tiredness) or certain styles of yakidashi (hamon start) can tip off Shinto vs Koto as well.
• Step 2: Tradition/School – Within that era, what “den” or school does the sword belong to? This is where jihada and hamon become crucial. Each Gokaden (the five traditions: Yamato, Yamashiro, Bizen, Soshu, Mino) plus later provincial schools have distinct combinations of jihada and hamon. For instance, suppose from shape you think “mid-Muromachi (c. 1500)”. In that era there were mainly Bizen, Mino, and a bit of Soshu traditions at play (Yamato and Yamashiro had declined). Does the blade have a mokume/itame hada with utsuri and a choji-like hamon? That screams Bizen. Or does it have a suguba or gunome hamon with a lot of nie and a somewhat straight grain? That might indicate Mino. If it has clear masame hada in places and a suguha hamon, perhaps a Yamato revival or something. The presence of activities like utsuri (shadow hamon in the ji) is a big clue – utsuri is classic for Bizen (especially Katō Ichimonji, Osafune). Abundant nie in a wild hamon might push toward Soshu tradition (or at least Soshu influence). As you compare the sword’s features to known styles, you zero in on a school or region. For example, you might conclude: shape = late Kamakura, jihada = tight ko-itame with ji-nie, hamon = ko-gunome midare in nie with sunagashi… these are kantei points that align with say, the Rai school of Yamashiro​markussesko.com or maybe Soshu Sadamune. You’d also consider the quality of work: A very refined, complex blade of a given era might indicate a mainline school, while a simpler or rougher blade might be a local smith. For instance, a Kanbun Shinto blade with simple suguha and mild hada might be an average Edo smith anywhere, but one with very bright nioi and choji-midare could point to Edo-period Bizen revival (like the Ichimonji revivalists).
• Step 3: Specific smith – The final part of kantei is often the hardest: naming the smith (or at least a small group of possible smiths) who made the blade. If a sword has very distinctive traits known to be unique to one smith, it’s possible. More often, you might narrow to a school and generation. For example, you conclude “This is Osaka Shintō, probably late 17th century. The hamon of wide nioi with ashi reminds me of Tsuda Sukehiro’s style.” If the boshi is the characteristic Sukehiro style (komaru with long turnback, etc.), you might say “likely Tsuda Sukehiro”. To reach this level, you must recall specific hallmark features (kantei points) of notable smiths. Many reference books list these. For instance, Nagayama’s Connoisseur’s Book might note that Shizu Kaneuji (Soshu school) often has a “chirimen” (crepe-like) jihada and a mix of suguha and gunome with frequent sunagashi. Or that Kanemitsu (late Kamakura Bizen) does a suguha with ko-ashi and his nie is finer than Nagamitsu’s, etc. This is advanced pattern recognition. At times, you might not get to a single name but perhaps “Den Tadahiro” meaning one of the Hizen Tadayoshi lineage, based on seeing the typical Hizen konuka hada and calm hamon. Or you identify a group: “Sue-Tegai school of late Muromachi Yamato” because of certain masame and suguha traits but cannot pick exactly which smith. That’s still a successful kantei result – often experts will allow a range (e.g., saying “Kanesada” when it was actually Kanefusa might not be too far off if all else fits).

It’s important to emphasize that kantei is a comparative science. Advanced collectors spend countless hours comparing swords to known benchmarks. They study say, Jūyō Token example write-ups for a given smith to see what experts noted. They memorize peculiar habits (“this smith always hardened the tip in yakitsume boshi with no turnback” or “that smith’s ji-nie is sparse compared to his teacher’s”). They also use tools: comprehensive signature references (like the Taikan books) to compare mei, and databases of authenticated examples. Modern technology even allows databases where you input sword dimensions and get likely matches, but traditionalists rely on memory and books.

Another aspect of advanced appraisal is determining authenticity and quality rank. Once you think you know who made it, you also judge “Is this a good work by this smith or an average one?” In Japan, blades are often ranked by quality: e.g., Fujishiro’s system of Superior, Average, Lower (jo-jō saku, jō saku, chū saku, etc.). An advanced collector can tell a mediocre later-generation work from a master’s prime work by subtle differences in craftsmanship. Workmanship quality is seen in how well-forged the jihada is (any openings or rough spots?), how consistent and controlled the hamon is (is the nioiguchi tight and clear? are the activities plentiful and balanced?), and the elegance of the shape. A top-tier blade will usually have a certain “presence” – hard to quantify, but when comparing an immaculate Jūyō-quality piece to a run-of-the-mill, the difference becomes evident in polish and detail. That said, one must calibrate for condition: a rusty or chipped sword might hide its quality. Part of advanced appraisal is also assessing condition issues (like fatal flaws, tiredness, bends, etc.) and how they impact value.

When it comes to papering (shinsa) – advanced collectors often submit swords to NBTHK or NTHK shinsa to get authentication papers. These papers (Hozon, Tokubetsu Hozon, Jūyō, etc.) are essentially professional kantei results that confirm the sword’s identity and sometimes rank its importance. The NBTHK panel examines all features and the mei (if any) under strict conditions and decides on an attribution and issues a certificate. Part of advanced collecting is predicting or interpreting these results. For example, you might think a mumei blade is by a certain smith; you send it to shinsa and it comes back attributed to that smith’s school but not him specifically – that tells you something (maybe it lacked one hallmark for that smith). Or your paper comes back “gimei” on a signed blade – then you decide whether to remove the mei. Understanding how these attributions are made helps you refine your own kantei skills.

An often overlooked skill in advanced appraisal is recognizing alterations or anomalies. E.g., a blade might have had its tip broken and reshaped – the boshi may not be original. Or a kissaki might be longer because the blade was reshaped from a break. An advanced observer will spot a boshi that doesn’t quite match the rest of the hamon (a sign it may have been retempered or reshaped). Or if a groove (hi) is cut through part of a signature, maybe that hi was added later. These clues can affect attribution and value.

Gimei detection we covered under tang, but it’s worth restating: advanced appraisal means being skeptical and thorough. If something is off about the mei, the experienced collector trusts the blade’s features more than the mei. There’s a Japanese saying, “Mei yori mejitsu” – essentially, “the blade’s truth is more in its workmanship than in its signature.” Many experts will evaluate a sword ignoring the mei at first, then see if the mei makes sense.

In practice, when you approach a sword for kantei, you might do something like: note sugata (write down likely era), note length/curvature, then examine hada (write observations: e.g. “tight ko-itame with profuse ji-nie and some chikei”), hamon (“gunome-midare in nie, with kinsuji”), boshi (“midare-komi with turnback”), nakago (“ubu, one mekugi-ana, yasurime sujikai, signed with two characters located toward nakago tip”). Then cross-reference those notes with known profiles: This sounds like Soshu-den work from late Kamakura or Nanbokucho; the ubu tang with one ana and sujikai suggests possibly a particular line. Perhaps it matches Shizu Kaneuji (a Soshu-trained Mino smith) – Shizu blades often have gunome-midare with sunagashi, and were mid-14th century (Nanbokucho) but many are o-suriage now… If this one is ubu, maybe not Shizu; could it be a later Soshu revival? And so on. This deductive chain is what advanced collectors practice mentally. They often discuss swords with each other in these terms, using a shared vocabulary of features.

Finally, advanced appraisal isn’t just about identifying the maker – it’s about appreciating the sword’s place and value. After kantei, you would assess, for instance: “This appears to be a work of the Etchū Norishige school, possibly Norishige himself. If so, it’s very significant (Norishige is a top-tier smith). The sword shows his characteristic matsukawa-hada (pine-bark grain) and intertwining nie. There are two small kitae-ware (folding flaws) in the ji but they are minor. Overall, it’s a high-quality piece worthy of Tokubetsu Hozon or maybe Jūyō consideration.” Such an appraisal synthesizes identification, quality judgment, and condition assessment. It’s the kind of holistic conclusion an advanced collector strives for.

In summary, advanced appraisal (kantei) is like solving a puzzle where the pieces are the sword’s features, your knowledge, and comparative examples. It demands both a deep analytical approach and an almost intuitive pattern recognition that comes with experience. The reward is the ability to look at an unpapered, unknown sword and say, “I am confident this is the work of XYZ, circa 1550, and it’s an above-average example of their work.” This brings great satisfaction and helps maintain the scholarly aspect of sword collecting. It also protects you as a collector, as you can avoid misrepresented items and recognize hidden gems that others might overlook.

Common Mistakes and Misconceptions

Even experienced collectors can stumble if they’re not careful. It’s important to be aware of common mistakes and misconceptions in sword appraisal so you can avoid them:

• Over-reliance on signatures: Beginners often put too much faith in a blade’s mei. They might excitedly think they have a “Kotetsu” or “Masamune” simply because those characters are on the tang. In truth, signatures can be and often are false​nihontoclub.com. A famous mei should raise scrutiny, not lower it. The workmanship must corroborate the mei. Remember that a great many swords bearing big names are gimei, while some fantastic mumei blades are underappreciated because they lack a signature. Don’t make the mistake of valuing a sword only for the name on it – mei yori muné (eyes over name) should be the mindset. Conversely, don’t dismiss an unsigned blade; it could be a masterpiece in disguise. Always authenticate mei with reference comparison or expert consultation. Seasoned collectors have been burned by trusting an inscription that turned out to be added later. It’s far better to have a mumei blade papered to a good smith than a signed blade that gets labeled gimei at shinsa. So, use mei as one data point, not the sole decider.
• Ignoring the blade’s condition and history: Sometimes collectors focus on the hamon and hada and forget to notice if the blade has fatal flaws or heavy wear. A classic mistake is not recognizing a polished-away hamon or boshi. For instance, an old tachi might have been shortened and repeatedly polished such that the hamon at the tip (boshi) is almost gone. A novice might not realize the boshi is essentially missing (just a thin tempered area or none at all). Such a condition is fatal (called saki-nakare if boshi is gone). Always check that the hamon runs fully to the tip and there’s a proper turnback – if not, it severely impacts the sword’s value and safety. Another case: Utsuri (the faint shadow hamon in Bizen blades) can be hard to see – a beginner might mistake a polished-out hamon for utsuri or vice versa. Understanding what features should be there and if they are intact is critical. Tired blades (sugari) are another issue – a sword might look nice pattern-wise, but if you notice patches of core steel or an overall lack of “meat” (skin steel), then it’s near the end of its life. Newcomers might overlook subtle core exposure lines or think it’s just a feature when it’s actually a detriment.
• Misidentifying hada and hamon details: It’s easy to misinterpret what you see. A frequent misconception is confusing surface damascus-like patterns or acid etch for true hada. Modern replica swords sometimes have obvious folded patterns or fake hamon; an untrained eye might call that “mokume hada” or such, when in fact it’s an artifact of machine folding or acid. Train yourself on polished antique examples so you know what genuine jihada looks like (it’s usually much finer and more subtle than people expect – not the coarse damascus etch pattern seen on cheap swords). Similarly, hamon activities can be misread: a scratch can be mistaken for kinsuji, or vice versa. If you see a straight line in the hamon area, is it a crack? a scratch? or a kinsuji? One must use magnification and experience. New collectors also sometimes label any wavy hamon as “choji” or any irregular as “midare” without appreciating the specific shapes. Studying precise terminology will improve your descriptions and avoid mislabeling.
• Failing to account for polishing effects: As mentioned, a hadori polish can make a complex hamon look like a simple one at first glance​nihontocraft.com. For example, a gunome-midare hamon might have been covered with a hadori that looks like a straight bright band, leading a novice to think it’s suguha. We must recognize when we’re seeing the true hamon versus the cosmetic outline. If possible, look at the blade under different light or even view the habuchi (border) with a loupe to see the actual hardened line beyond the hadori. Many misidentifications come from not understanding what the polisher has done. Similarly, an acid-enhanced hada might trick someone into thinking a blade has spectacular grain when it’s partly artificial. Knowing signs of acid etch (slight blackened outlines to grain, overly stark contrast) can prevent that mistake.
• Neglecting dimensions and proportions: Sometimes collectors tunnel-vision on the steel and forget to measure or observe the basic dimensions. A sword’s length, curvature, and width-to-thickness ratio are important data. Misjudging these can lead to wrong conclusions. For instance, a blade might seem like a katana, but if you measure and it’s only 54 cm, it’s actually a wakizashi – which changes what smiths or schools to consider. Or one might describe a sword as having “normal thickness” but if you used calipers you’d find it unusually thin (sign of heavy polishing or a particular school). It’s a good practice to handle enough swords to know by feel if something is off: e.g., a Kanbun Shinto blade typically feels light and thin; if you encounter one that feels heavy, maybe it’s actually a Shinshintō copy of Kanbun style. So measure and note these, don’t assume.
• Comparing to only text descriptions without seeing examples: One pitfall is relying solely on written descriptions (like “itame mixed with mokume and midare-utsuri”) to judge a sword in hand. Without having seen actual examples, one might mis-evaluate. For example, misidentifying a regional variant of grain as another. Seeing and handling authenticated swords (at token kai shows, museums, or in books with good photos) is essential to calibrate your eye. Otherwise, a collector might, for instance, call something “Masame hada” when it’s really just a portion of tight itame appearing linear. Or call a hamon “choji” because they read Bizen = choji, when the hamon is more of a gunome-midare in reality. Always cross-check with visual examples. If you can, attend sword study groups or compare your sword with high-resolution oshigata images from literature to ensure you’re reading it correctly.
• Tunnel vision on one feature: Some collectors fall in love with one aspect – say the hamon – and ignore flaws elsewhere. They might say “the hamon is gorgeous, so what if there’s a small hagire (crack)?” A small hagire, however, is a fatal flaw that renders a sword valueless as a collectible. No matter how fine the rest is, a crack is a crack – avoid wishful thinking that a flaw “isn’t so bad.” Similarly, someone might focus on the signature authenticity and neglect the fact that the blade is heavily chipped or bent. Advanced appraisal means looking at everything: health, flaws, quality, authenticity, and so forth. Don’t let one exciting feature blind you to other issues.
• Attributing out of school: Without sufficient study, one might jump to naming a famous smith incorrectly. For instance, seeing a hitatsura hamon and immediately saying “Muramasa!” because Muramasa is famed for hitatsura. In reality, many Muromachi smiths did hitatsura. Or calling every wide flamboyant hamon “Ichimonji” when many schools made large hamon. This is a mistake of confirmation bias – trying to force an identification because some elements loosely fit. The remedy is intellectual honesty: if the evidence is limited or mixed, acknowledge uncertainty. It’s better to say “possibly Shizu or Naotsuna school” than to incorrectly assert a single name without enough basis.
• Mishandling the sword during appraisal: A practical mistake – getting careless with handling as you focus on details. For instance, not noticing your thumb creeping onto the blade surface, leaving prints or, worse, cutting yourself. Always maintain respect for the blade’s sharpness and preserve its condition. Clean the blade of fingerprints and re-oil lightly after a long study session. Many a good blade has gotten fingerprint rust because someone got so absorbed in viewing that they forgot to wipe it down after. Don’t be that person!

In sum, the common mistakes boil down to inexperience and human nature: assuming too much from too little, seeing what one wants to see, or not seeing what is inconvenient. The cure is continual study, second opinions, and developing a disciplined evaluation routine. When in doubt, consult with senpai (more experienced collectors or sword experts). They might spot that the “small line” you ignored is actually a crack, or gently point out that the signature is anachronistic. Be open to learning and correcting your misconceptions.

Finally, one widespread misconception worth dispelling is the idea that all samurai swords can cut through anything or that a specific famous sword will automatically be superior in cutting. In collecting, we evaluate swords as art and artifacts; the discussion of sharpness or cutting ability is secondary (except in the context of test-cut inscriptions). So, avoid overly fantasizing about functional aspects – a common newbie fascination is with cutting tests (e.g., “this sword cut through 5 bodies!”). Yes, test cuts (tameshigiri) are historically interesting and sometimes recorded on tangs, but they don’t necessarily correlate to the sword’s artistic merit or value. A sword with a test cut inscription isn’t “better” unless you collect that niche specifically. Focus on the aesthetic and historical qualities first.

By being mindful of these pitfalls, you will refine your skills and reputation as a knowledgeable collector. In this hobby, humility goes a long way – the more you learn, the more you realize how much there is still to learn. Every mistake is an opportunity to improve your understanding of nihontō.

Conclusion

Appraising and appreciating a Japanese sword is a journey that blends art, history, and technique. As advanced collectors, we develop an ever-deeper understanding that each blade is not just a weapon but a storyteller – carrying the legacy of the smith who forged it, the era it was born in, and the hands that treasured it over time. Proper viewing etiquette and methodical examination enable us to hear that story: from the whispered grain of the jihada to the bold stroke of the hamon, from the dignified lines of the sugata to the signature etched in the nakago. We’ve seen how each feature interlocks to reveal a sword’s identity and quality, and how careful one must be to interpret them correctly.

Importantly, the study of nihontō is endless. There is always more to learn – another school’s style to become familiar with, another famous blade to examine, new research or theories to consider. The truly advanced collector maintains a student’s mindset. Continuous study is the key to mastery. This can include reading the classic references and the latest scholarship. Highly recommended books for further study include Kokan Nagayama’s The Connoisseur’s Book of Japanese Swords, which is arguably the most comprehensive English guide to appreciating and appraising Japanese blades​. Nagayama’s work, along with others like The Japanese Sword by Kanzan Satō and Facts and Fundamentals of Japanese Swords by Nobuo Nakahara, provide invaluable insights and Oshigata illustrations of hallmark pieces. These resources help sharpen your kantei skills and clarify the many specialized terms and concepts encountered.

Joining organizations and communities can greatly enhance your learning. The NBTHK (Nihon Bijutsu Tōken Hozon Kyōkai) has chapters internationally (e.g., NBTHK-AB for America, NBTHK Europe) that hold regular meetings, where members bring swords for study. Seeing and handling authenticated excellent swords at such meetings is an experience beyond what any book can provide. The NBTHK’s monthly journal Token Bijutsu often has articles on specific smiths or kantei quizzes that are excellent practice. Similarly, the Japanese Sword Society of the U.S. (JSSUS) and other regional sword clubs publish newsletters and host events. Participating in sword shows (e.g., the San Francisco Token Kai, the DTI in Japan) allows you to see a wide variety of swords and converse with experts and dealers.

Museums with notable sword collections are also fantastic learning grounds. For instance, the Tokyo National Museum and the Yasukuni Yushukan in Japan have rotating displays of famous swords (including National Treasures). Outside Japan, institutions like the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, and the British Museum have Japanese swords in their collections (sometimes on display or by appointment). Studying these polished and papered examples, often with known provenance, will calibrate your eye to top quality work. Additionally, specialized sword museums such as the Bizen Osafune Sword Museum or the Seki Sword Tradition Museum focus on regional traditions and often have workshops or demonstrations.

Don’t underestimate the value of hands-on learning: if you have the opportunity to attend a polishing demonstration or a smith forging demonstration, you’ll gain insight into how the features you see are created. This can deepen your appreciation (for example, seeing how a polisher brings out utsuri might explain why it appears as it does). Some veteran collectors even take up making hybrid polish on broken pieces or observe togishi at work to better understand the steel.

In your advanced journey, you might also hone a specialty. Some collectors become experts in one school or smith – say, the Hizen school – and collect extensively in that area, learning every nuance. Others might focus on a type of blade like tantō or a time period like Shinshintō. Developing a specialization can make you a go-to resource for that niche, but be sure to maintain a broad base too, since all aspects of swords inform each other.

At this level, one of the most rewarding aspects is mentoring newer enthusiasts. Teaching others – explaining proper handling, pointing out details in a hamon – will reinforce your own knowledge and keep the passion alive. It also ensures the preservation of this sword appreciation culture for the next generation. The more people properly caring for and understanding these blades, the longer these treasures will survive intact.

In conclusion, viewing and appraising Japanese swords is a rich discipline that requires both intellectual rigor and an aesthetic sensibility. It engages us with history: as we examine a sword, we connect with the Kamakura period or the mind of a craftsman centuries ago. It teaches us patience and respect: the more we look, the more we see, and the more we realize the depth of what we don’t know. And ultimately, it brings immense satisfaction – the moment you identify a long-unrecognized blade, or appreciate a subtle activity you never noticed before, is truly gratifying. Each sword you study becomes a teacher in its own right.

As you continue your journey, surround yourself with the best references, the best examples, and a community of fellow aficionados. Keep detailed notes on swords you examine, build your own reference library of oshigata and photos, and perhaps even travel to see famous swords (the “sword tourism” of visiting notable blades in Japan can be quite fun!). With dedication, your eyes will become sharper than any sword edge – able to discern the finest details and enjoy them. Your mind will become like a well-organized armory, where knowledge of smiths and schools is ready at hand.

The world of Nihontō is as vast and layered as a finely forged blade. Embrace the lifelong learning process. Treat each sword with the care and honor it deserves. In doing so, you not only preserve these works of art for the future but also carry on the spirit of the samurai and the artisans – seeing the sword not just as steel, but as a fusion of spirit and beauty. Happy collecting, and may your studies be ever fruitful. Onward in the way of the sword!

References:

• Yumoto, John. The Samurai Sword: A Handbook. (A good introductory text that covers basics of sword terminology and appreciation.)
• Nagayama, Kokan. The Connoisseur’s Book of Japanese Swords. (Advanced reference with detailed kantei information and oshigata illustrations)​.
• Nakahara, Nobuo. Facts and Fundamentals of Japanese Swords. (Practical perspectives on what truly matters in sword evaluation, by a Japanese sword expert.)
• Sesko, Markus. Encyclopedia of Japanese Swords. (Comprehensive reference and his blog posts for deep dives into specific topics like jihada and hamon)​.
• Society for Preservation of Japanese Art Swords (NBTHK) Journal Token Bijutsu. (Includes monthly kantei exercises and expert articles).
• Online resources: Nihonto Message Board (militaria.co.za) for community discussions; Japanese Sword Index (japaneseswordindex.com) for glossary and examples of shapes; Swordsmith databases like Nihonto Club, etc., for research on mei.
• Museum Collections: The Metropolitan Museum of Art online collection (metmuseum.org) for high-resolution images and info on famous swords (e.g., a Gassan school katana with ayasugi-hada)​; Tokyo National Museum digital archives for National Treasure swords.

By immersing yourself in these resources and examining as many swords as possible, you will continue to elevate your connoisseurship. Remember the saying: Ken sword, ken mind – “seeing the sword, see the mind (of its maker).”