About Japanese art tradition

The Japanese are a largely monocultural population, and are also internationally known for their long history of arts and crafts. Students of Western art know of the considerable impact Japanese arts had on Western art after Japan was opened up to international influence in 1868 (the beginning of the Meiji period). Study of Japanese techniques, themes, models, and art theory has benefitted many Western artists, especially impressionists and modernists.

However, the best reason to become familiar with Japanese arts and antiques, is to know more about the extremely old and bountiful artistic expression of a major Asian culture. They are also, to some degree, multicultural since there are many influences from China (Confucianism, Buddhism) and Korea (Taoism) on traditional Japanese arts. Ch’an (Zen) Buddhism was a major import from China, and the ‘spirit’ of Japanese art benefits from some familiarity with it.  

Zen is said to have been imported to Japan from China via Korea as early as 552–710 AD. During this time of religious turbulence (Asuka-Nara period) Japanese monks were visiting China to study Ch’an Buddhism, and at the same time Chinese artists were visiting Japan and propagating their religion, kanji, art forms, ideas, and techniques. Those inheritances, however, soon became adapted to Japanese cultural themes and designs. The static Chinese arts became more dynamic in Japan, perhaps unburdened by doctrinaire Confucianism. But it still is sometimes difficult to distinguish indigenous Japanese art from Japanese works “in the Chinese style” by Chinese visitors and native Japanese artisans.  

In 1868, however, Japan was opened by U.S. military threat to the modern cultural confluence of world trade and arts. And, thus, the Meiji period and its Edo inheritance have become fruitful sources of interest among cognoscenti, art enthusiasts, and collectors. There are big collections of Japanese arts in major museums around the Western world: London, Washington D.C., Cleveland, and especially Boston, which also has an authentic kare sansui Zen garden in the 15th century style. But most people have little familiarity with this rich source of art for reasons that are unclear. Its relative unfamiliarity warrants this exposure to such a prolific artistic culture.

Four-panel byobu (168 cm x 81 cm) with cranes looking left from a tangible world into a hazy future. Cranes are symbols of longevity. Notice, too, the right to left composition with the cranes looking to the cloudy future towards the left. The far left and right panels are almost empty. Reminiscent of the poem “Before we are and what we were,” Robert Lowell

Viewing Japanese art

Both Zen and indigenous Shintō have an intrinsic attraction to nature: Shintō pantheism makes nature objects (but especially animals) a source of worship, Zen alludes to nature frequently but only its essence, with a minimum of detail. A few brush strokes or a piece of maki-e that displays only the play of nature’s forms in the void of a field of lacquer produces objects that are not simply a source for the Western sense of “art appreciation.” Many Japanese ‘arts’ were made to be used, and the beauty of useful objects, or a table setting etc., is a characteristic aspect of Japanese culture, the art of beautiful living. The discussion that follows is brief but suggests topics for in-depth study.

  • First, with Japanese visual arts, especially painting, the ‘form’ or organization of many works should be viewed by scanning from right to left. Readers of Western languages read from left to right and have never known that this visual/cultural bias is typically at work in Western visual art. But, in Japan, where reading is from right to left, scanning the pictorial work is typically from right to left. The composition of the six-panel byobu in the Welcome Page is weighted to the right: with the most prominent cranes peering to the left; then a space (signifying time) leads to the cranes on the left as pointed to by the diagonal of bamboo branches at the bottom center of the composition and the one crane staring directly down, briefly stopping the eye’s movement.
  • Next is the principle of Mono no Aware. This refers to the fleetingness of life. Following Zen precepts, life is an endless cycle of being and becoming (samsara). Nothing is forever except change. The “spirit” or “way” (Tao) of the circle of life and rebirth suffuses not only the religion of Zen but its influences on the various arts. In these arts, the subject of focus is constantly at once present and suggestive of incipient transience. The Japanese passion for cherry blossoms, which bloom only for a week, is a typical example of Mono no Aware. They are the subject of much visual art, especially on hanging scrolls.
  • Wu-wei is a value derived from Taoism. Wu refers to “lacking or devoid,“ and Wei refers to “planned action.” It is an ethical concept that understands the elements of the universe as accordant, balanced, and harmonious. Deliberate action risks disturbing this balance, just as throwing a stone into a pond of still water disturbs the water’s reflections. Goals thus must be accomplished through “effortless action” or “action without plan” (naturally) to remain in balance with “the Way” (Tao, or “flow”) of nature and life. This spontaneity is widely reflected (and respected) in Zen arts (e.g., sumi-e paintings). “Chance” art (drip paintings of Jackson Pollock) and stochastic music (John Cage) also reflect this ethos.
  • Yūgen refers to the dark, deep, and hidden dimension of life. Like the Zen influence mentioned earlier, it understates the real world as just vaguely reflecting the reality of what is really at stake. Much of the effect results from the skills of the artists who, in their training, often go contrary to the natural constraints of the human body; for example, holding a brush vertically while painting sumi-e on a horizontal surface. Yet, in the arts, the result is a “natural grace” that appears artless, and sometimes ghostly and supernatural.
  • Wabi is the principle of understated appeal to the delight of the senses, again an inheritance from Zen; i.e., appealing to the senses in the Zen version of what Western art calls “beauty” but that is really aisthesis (or the ‘feeling-tone’ of unmediated sensory perception). It doesn’t grandly announce itself: “Look at me!” It presents itself more as an invitation to dwell more deeply into the work. This, too, can be a form of Zen meditation, occasioned by the art in front of you, and it welcomes a studied attitude. In Western museums, 10 seconds is the average time spent viewing a masterpiece; an attitude of, “Now that I’ve had an aesthetic experience, I’ll move on to another.” This insults Japanese artists who seek wabi and whose works deserve a close study of details, not just a passing glance. (Actually true, too, of Western arts.) Smaller objects also respond to being handled, something not allowed in museums. Exhibitions of Japanese arts thus benefit from a leisurely, studied viewing, observing details and apprehending beyond.
Note from a repair artisan [see Kintsugi repair below]: “When I started repairing your Oribe Yaki, Oh my… the ancient smell, the warmth of the object… The artist who made this piece must have passed away, but it felt like I was meeting him in his piece of art, having a conversation with him, getting his permission to fix, and listening to his opinion… It’s an incredibly touching process.“ Lili Kaartinen, Kintsugi Reborn C
  • Sabi, however, implies a patina or subtle impression of lasting attractiveness and continuing insight. Especially with antiques, sabi is a sense of the art having continuing appeal to the senses—reminiscent of the respect for the aged in Japan inherited from Confucianism. In effect, its appeal arises from having aged well—not just surviving, but that its essence remains attractive and appealing as time-tested across eras. No fads, then, and arts and artists of the past are honored as national treasures. As a result, imperfections from aging and use are considered a part of the present appeal to alert senses, not defects. Japanese arts are pragmatic: most find some way into daily use. This is important to true antique collectors. Raku pottery, a special feature of the formal Japanese tea ceremony (Chawan) is especially noted for this humble and unpretentious effect, regardless of its age. Its hand-made rusticity is for many the epitome of Japanese arts. Wabi/Sabi usually are complementary in both discussion and contemplation of Japanese artworks. Each implies the other, like Taoist yin/yang or hot/cold. (See NOTE above.)
  • Elegance. In decided contrast to the humble traits stemming from Zen and Taoism are various design styles that describe works featuring the elegance of Japanese upper-class society, courtiers, and the wealthy. Shibui is a modest elegance characterized by subtle refinement, simplicity, and lack of ‘showiness’. Iki characterizes a smart or “chic” sense of fashionable or trendy stylishness. In contrast, are Fūryū and Miyabi, the opulent elegance of elite and educated classes. Karei is the sumptuous elegance of gold foil screens, Noh and Kabuki costumes, wedding kimono, and Samurai pageantry. Finally, there are Basara and Kabuku, which are markedly extravagant fūryū demonstrating rebellion against social and sexual norms. With the exception of gold foil screens and maki-e, these all deal with lifestyle expressions of societies and trends of the time. (For details and examples, see Japanese Design, P.J. Graham, listed in Recommended Readings, at the end of this book).

Japanese antique art reveals two opposing tendencies, depending on the historical period, artist, and medium. One is for valuing realism of the natural and social world: people, dress, architecture, nature, and images and stories of life, battles, erotica, and animals. The second and contrasting tendency is introspective, spiritual, inward-looking, and meditative; this insular aspect is often related to Zen Buddhist themes and influences. Shintō deities (kami and animal figures) mediate both worlds.

Japanese arts are particularly suitable for small personal collections. Aside from secular paintings, Japanese art forms were made to be practical and useful, not just displayed on a shelf or wall. The Japanese dinner table is radiant with a variety of beautiful dishes and implements, and the food on them is arranged to please the sense of sight along with the sense of taste. Usually, many of the pieces don’t match; they’re matched instead to the food! But that doesn’t take away from the visual appeal of each piece thus standing out on its own—unlike, say, Japanese students who work hard not to attract individual attention—in contrast to highly coordinated table services in the West. Servings are small, but many; and the sequencing and timing of their arrival deserve considerable appreciation.

Ch’an Buddhism originated in India and spread east from there to China. It reached Japan through Taoist Korea, arriving with touches of Taoist metaphysics; a Yin/Yang intertwining of dualistic tendencies (described above) into a holistic cosmology that is deeply characteristic of Japanese art. (Zen!) This interpenetration of opposites is seen at its most striking in the ethos of Samurai warriors who, in serving their masters, on one hand practiced all the skills of warfare; and, on the other, cultivated the spirit of Zen in the noble side of their lives with paintings, poetry, and tea ceremony. Meditation usefully calmed the mind for battle and for withstanding the horrific aftereffects of battle. The ‘Zen of archery’, for example, relies on the practice of such a calm mind for accuracy. Much of the Zen influence on Japanese art stems from Ch’an. It tends to be very minimalist, and suggestive rather than detailed.

Wooden Asian lacquerware is highly resistant to damage in normal usage. It resists alcohol, wet rings from glasses, and other damage. But it must be kept in humidified conditions; otherwise, the lacquer will peel away from the base material. Displaying valuable lacquer thus requires consistent monitoring of around 50+ degrees of relative humidity. Dinnerware (rice and soup bowls, etc.) should not be put into the dishwasher, but hand washed and kept humidified, especially in winter.

Japanese ceramics, of course, are naturally resistant to wear and tear, which is probably why so many ceramic antiques exist in such good condition. Painted surfaces can lose their color due to use and sunlight. Pieces designed to be visually appreciated in addition to their practical use often come in custom-made boxes for storage that promotes their longevity. Sellers often include the original box and some collectors display the kanji on their collections of boxes. Some lacquer and ceramics are used only on special occasions, thus adding to their collectability. And with minimum care, they can be kept in fine shape despite being used.

A home is enlivened by the variety of Japanese antiques on display and in use. The latter is testimony to the idea that art is not just a decoration, but an addition to a life of heightened sensibility, to be contemplated by many people over long periods of time with always new meditative insights—not just in museums for a one-time exposure behind glass. Nor is art, in the Japanese sense, used for “showing off” your good taste as 19th century Bourgeoisie did in their attempts to appear ‘classy’. Rather, Japanese arts contribute to a contemplative life, lived artfully by its complement of appealing objects for daily use. Living among Japanese arts is extremely agreeable. Cats trespassing on shelves and dogs’ tails, however, can be a risk.

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