The suicide of Tyler Clementi has been bothering me all week. Two young adults, both obviously minorities and quite possibly victims of racism at some point in their lives, took it upon themselves to torment a young man because he was somehow different from them, and make public a very private encounter. Such despicable behavior is beyond comprehension.
There is nothing in me that can express the horror I feel over this. I cannot imagine what his family feels, and can only offer them my thoughts and sympathy. If this were my son, my loss would be inconsolable. If the perpetrators were my children, disgust and contempt for them would be at war with my love.
These two did far more damage than they may ever imagine possible.
Today, I am going to begin a brief series on a rather lovely set of books, published by Motoi Oi (1910-2004) shortly after his arrival in the U.S. Initially paperback books, self-published and handbound by his wife using traditional Japanese binding, much of his work was consolidated into hardback by the Japan Publication Trading Co. in Tokyo.
The Society was created in New York in 1963 by Professor Motoi Oi to foster and encourage an appreciation of East Asian brush painting. For the initial fifteen years (1963-1978) its annual exhibitions were held in New York City. Over the years, the Society has grown and there are many chapters in the United States and a sister organization in Canada.When asked why he had started the Sumi-e Society, Mr. Oi answered, in part, “In the East, paintings reflect the great joy of culture. They are a reflection of an intense personal idiom. My idea was to provide a means through which the fresh, new spirit of American culture could be viewed in Sumi-e.”
Professor Oi was born in Japan and in 1958 he emigrated to the U.S.A. where he worked as a printmaker, painted, wrote books on Sumi-e painting and taught art at Queens College , New York City and the Brooklyn Institute of Art and Science.
In 1981, Mr. Oi was awarded the 6th class of the Order of the Rising Sun for his work in US-Japan cultural relations.
Oi Sensei
Oi himself writes on the inside cover flap of this book:
What is sumi-e? Is is so simple an art form that a novice can literally pick up a brush and start painting right away. Yet, it intrigues even those whoc spend their lifetimes studying it. In this book, Mr. Oi introduces to the beginners the fundamental techniques of sumi-e and describes its spirit, which plays the most important part, in terms of … Zen Buddhism … a mystic religion of extreme self-discipline and concentration. The importance of its [sumi’e’s] spirit is, however, too often ignored, and the craze for this art is usually based on a complete misunderstanding, the result being a mere imitation of its superficial features.
Given this, I am not even going to approach the spirit behind Mr. Oi’s books; rather, that is up to the individual artist and reader to explore. Instead, I think it is interesting to read the book and consider what is said. For instance, in the above edition, concerning rough sketches, he writes, “in following a rough sketch, painting becomes a matter of technique and hence loses the fresh, spontaneous feeling. Therefore I do not recommend it.” What does this mean? To me, it says it is best to look at each subject as something totally new and unexperienced. It also says to consider the subject in advance – light, dark – and to consider the approach to the painting in terms of brush stroke, ink gradation, how the brush will be loaded. This, of course, comes through practice of lines, circles, and other techniques, such as illustrated below.
Mastery in any art or craft means mastery of its tools. Here, ink, brush, paper, water. It also means mastery of the self, in whatever way it means to you, the painter, the artist, the craftsman. I rather like these paragraphs from his “Notes on Sumi-e” found at the end of the book:
The ability to think is what produces a good Sumi-e. A dexterous hand may turn out a mechanically excellent picture but not a true Sumi-e in spirit.
Pick up a Fude with a deep sense of humility. Free your mind of arrogance and hostility. You are not out to conquer Sumi-e. Rather, you want to be one with it. There should be neither a victory nor a defeat. Complete union is the ultimate goal.
Sumi-e is a mirror to your mind. It, however, surpasses mere reflection by rendering an image free of frills and pretense. Only the bare truth is reproduced on a sheet of paper.
I wonder, myself, just how this might be judged by others. For me, I know when I have accomplished this, free of the monkey mind; I can look at my painting and know it is well done. But do others see it? I think we are all prejudiced by our moods, likes, dislikes, current preferences. Certainly what appears good today may seem like a horror the next. As we are not static, perhaps this undulation of appreciation – this seeming fickleness – is actually a very, very good thing.
Fresh from Sunday night’s purchase from Bob Wood (mercantile47 on eBay), this really clean Canonet QL17 GIII arrived in today’s post. His pictures are really beautiful – the camera looks just like its photos. In real life, the camera appears to have been well treated, seems to work perfectly, and is totally confusing! A manual camera? Setting up film, f stops, shutter speeds? Add to that getting to understand how a rangefinder lens works and actually having the visual acuity to see it? Yeah, it really is a mind tweaker. I get digital really well, but this is an altogether new kettle of fish. I am really eager to see my first roll of film, which I expect will be total crap because I am lost, there could be light leaks, there will definitely be user errors.
The other day my photo buddy and I got together. He just acquired a Nikon D200 DSLR for a song, and in a fit of generosity (as well as a ploy to convert me to a Nikon fan!), has offered me the use of his Nikon D70 DSLR for play. Isn’t that great? And I admit, I am really excited about the idea of being able to use a DSLR with interchangeable lenses. All my digital cameras have had fixed lenses.
I’ve also been on the hunt for a rangefinder camera as I have never used one, and am looking at several on eBay. I don’t want to spend a fortune, so I have been doing a lot of research. It never ceases to amaze me how much I learn while looking! There are so many rangefinder cameras out there – some more popular than others, some with an interesting history, some for pennies, others for thousands of dollars. To me, what is the most fascinating idea of all, is their supposed portability compared to SLRs. I’m no expert, but my impression is that the plane of focus can be very narrow, and this gives pictures taken with rangefinders some of their charm – blurred foreground and distance, with razor sharp images in the middle. As well as this, brilliantly detailed landscapes.
And if I do this – I need to get the pictures developed. My scanner has an attachment for digitizing film negatives. But! I have no negatives that I can find to try it. Solution? Dig out my old, and only, SLR – a Canon A-1.
Tragically, I never really learned to use this camera. My cheapskate side hates spending thousands of dollars on snapshots which I don’t like. However, with the idea of being able to digitize snapshots, I decided to pull it off the shelf where it has been sitting for too many years. It has seen better days. It has been dropped fairly hard, to the point the enamel is down to the metal underbody, and the ISO dial is reluctant to move. The lens has a haze filter on it, but the entire camera was swathed in dust. The lens itself was jammed, and a button to release it from “A” for the automatic modes popped out when I tried to move the lens to an F stop.
As you can see, this poor thing has been really neglected. I got most of the dust off, but this shows you just how much more needs to be done. Despite this, I went out and got a new battery and the only package of film (Fuji 400 Superia) in the drugstore, downloaded and printed out a manual, which I don’t think I ever even read when I got this camera nearly 30 years ago. I read the manual front to back.
I pulled out my tripod and set up a few shots, using only the manual elements to do some close-ups of an orchid in the yard, and the dying hop plant. I tried to do shots with the largest F stop – f/3.5 with the 28 mm macro, and some with f/11 for detail and depth. I have no idea how they will turn out, but recorded them in a notebook. It will be interesting to see what they look like. Hopefully not like snapshots!
It’s pretty amusing to think I used my digital camera (Lumix DMC ZS5) to take these pictures. If I find myself wanting to use this Canon, we are very fortunate to have a camera repair place here in town that has an excellent reputation.
Time was when one used to be able to buy film in drugstores and grocery stores, but not now. Online seems to be the place, and camera stores. The varieties are still myriad, but local availability has dwindled. Forget having black and white processed at a local lab – it needs to be sent out while color processing stays somewhat local. It may be worthwhile looking into processing at home or finding a local members-only lab, but that is a bit down the line, and only if I get into it.
Every region has its artistic styles, as well as every time period. The same may be said for production of the suzuri, with a classical shape and style modified according to era and taste. The most common suzuri is a rectangular stone with a deep well on one end, and a flat surface sloping into it This makes sense, as it is practical and probably fairly easy to accomplish. Decorative elements and embellishments in the non-working areas are certainly possible, and I would be inclined to say almost inevitable for the expression of the carver’s creative force.
Besides the impact of regional and time preferences, the economics behind the stone’s production itself may be seen. Stones for the masses – the daily stone – are probably more plain than those for the aficionado, simply because of their utilitarian role. These can be made quickly, with or without attention to quality or aesthetics. Today, stones for tourists may be pretty but worthless as far as usability; other stones may be far better in quality and less ornate. A good stone is absolutely necessary, whether for calligraphy or painting, if you are using an ink stick.
Kiri Wood Box
Today’s stone is from Japan. It does not have a rosewood box, but it is very nicely encased in a kiri wood box. Unfortunately, I cannot read the label! (If anyone can translate for me, please let me know.) This is the only stone in my collection I have not yet used, and I am still deciding on whether or not I should – it is so beautiful as it is! Knowing me, though, I will at some point when I am not rushing around – I want to take the time to enjoy it.
I am under the impression this stone is carved from nachiguro, a lustrous black slate or river shale unique to Japan, and has been used since the Nara period (710 – 794 CE) for carving practical and ornamental items, such as suzuri, go stones, and suiseki, This stone is a sedimentary shale which originates in the upper side of the Kumano river in Japan’s Mie prefecture, and is characteristically very dark and shiny.
Suzuri Lid with Carving
Many traditional Japanese themes and symbols may be considered by a master craftsman in creating a high-end suzuri, but this artist has taken a considerably more modern approach. The abstract elements of the lid are suggestive of many things, and certainly some traditional themes as well. Just in a glance, I can envision falling leaves or swimming koi. The carving is very subtle and pleasing, working very well within the smooth borders of the circle. To the touch, the different textures are smooth and rough at the same time, without any sharp edges.
Inside Well of Suzuri
The smooth elegance of the polished stone is a bit more rough on the grinding surface and the well, having the necessary tooth to create sumi ink. The borders of the well are polished and shiny, in keeping with the rest of the stone. The contrast of these two areas repeats the circular motif of the suzuri’s shape, as well as the framing of the lid’s pattern. The underside of the lid is as smooth and reflective as the underside of the lower portion of the stone. Even the underside of the suzuri well is smoothly finished, and follows the circular motifs of lid surface and underside, and the well. This stone is not especially old, probably produced in last quarter of the twentieth century. It is a large, heavy stone, measuring more than 8 inches (20 cm) in diameter.
Suzuri Well on Left; Underside of Suzuri Lid on RightUnderside of Suzuri Well
I expect this stone could be considered something of a luxury item, for oneself or as a special gift. Given this, I cannot help but wonder if the beauty of the stone is all it has – can it be used to produce good ink? Even if it does not, there is something to be said for simply beautiful objects. The suzuri’s circular shape is pleasing, the lid’s carved surface intriguing, and the soft, candescent glow of the stone subtly elegant. Aesthetically, this suzuri is a sculpture to be appreciated in its own right.
Mastery in any art or craft means mastery of its tools. Here, ink, brush, paper, water. It also means mastery of the self, in whatever way it means to you, the painter, the artist, the craftsman. I rather like these paragraphs from his “Notes on Sumi-e” found at the end of the book:
The other day my photo buddy and I got together. He just acquired a Nikon D200 DSLR for a song, and in a fit of generosity (as well as a ploy to convert me to a Nikon fan!), has offered me the use of his Nikon D70 DSLR for play. Isn’t that great? And I admit, I am really excited about the idea of being able to use a DSLR with interchangeable lenses. All my digital cameras have had fixed lenses.
Ink, Yarn & Beer 