The Japanese art of sumi-e

Sumi-e (墨絵), also called suiboku-ga (水墨画), is Japanese ink wash painting. Sumi-e painting evolved in the 5th century from Chinese calligraphy. The main subjects are taken from nature. In the 12th century Zen monks brought the technique to Japan where even today Sumi-e painting has a decisive influence on lifestyle. Translated “Sumi” means “black ink” and “e” means both “path” and “painting”. The style of brush painting is both a simple and yet highly aesthetic drawing made of powerful, mostly chasing and rapidly executed lines. The philosophy of sumi-e is to capture the subject’s ki (life spirit).

Autumn Landscape (Shūkei-sansui). Sesshū Tōyō (1420-1506), Japanese
Autumn Landscape (Shūkei-sansui). Sesshū Tōyō (1420-1506), Japanese

Patience and inner harmony are essential in brush painting to capture the spirit of the subject. Sumi-e is therefore not only an Asian painting technique but also a form of spiritual relaxation therapy and is becoming increasingly popular in Europe.

Sumi-e provides a powerful lesson concerning the use of color, communication, and restraints. Sumi-e is an art deeply rooted in Zen, embodying many of the tenets of the Zen aesthetic including simplicity and the idea of maximum effect with minimum means. In Sumi-e, great works are achieved with only black ink on washi(rice paper) or silk scroll. Using the black ink to achieve several variations of tones, we learn that powerful visual messages can be created with a single “color” in the form of different shades and tints.

Hasegawa Tōhaku (1539-1610). “Pine trees”, end of the 16th century. Ink on paper. National Museum, Tokyo.
Hasegawa Tōhaku (1539-1610). “Pine trees”, end of the 16th century. Ink on paper. National Museum, Tokyo.

Zen monks studying in China often returned with samples of Chinese art. In the 14th century they brought back “ink and wash” paintings, a monochromatic style of landscape paintings popular during the Song Dynasty, that held special appeal for Zen Buddhists. The style was called sumi-e in Japan. Sumi-e drawings use only black ink, and in line with Zen principles, the negative space is as important as the positive, which leads to sparse compositions and suggestions rather than renderings.

Sumi-e requires four different tools.  The preparation and use of each has its own process and meditation.  These tools are the ink (sumi), the ink stone (suzuri), the brush (fude), and the material to be painted on, usually paper (washi) or silk.

Sessō Tōyō, Haboku-style landscape, a hanging scroll painting
Sessō Tōyō, Haboku-style landscape, a hanging scroll painting, British Museum, London

Sumi is generally produced out of pine or bamboo ash and a binding agent made from fish bones.  In order for sumi to properly set in its molded form, humidity and temperature must be just right.  For this reason, the highest quality ink blocks are only produced between October and May.  To get an even better ink, artisans will often allow a block to age for several years before selling or using it.

As per the Zen way, when an artist uses an ink block, they should consider the amount of time and hard work that went in to its production.   Having this connection to the ink gives it a sense of being precious, and adds to the delicacy required for each stroke.

Sesshū (1420-1506) “Landscape”, 1495. Vertical hanging scroll, ink on paper. National Museum, Tokyo.
Sesshū (1420-1506) “Landscape”, 1495. Vertical hanging scroll, ink on paper. National Museum, Tokyo.

Although sumi ink is typically described as monochromatic, this does not necessarily mean just black and white.   It is often produced in four common colors: black-black and brown-black, both of which are used mostly for rocky landscapes and winter scenes, as well as black-blue and black-purple, which are generally used for spring scenes.

In the Japanese art of sumi-e, strokes of ink are brushed across sheets of rice paper, the play of light and dark capturing not just images but sensations, not just surfaces but the essence of what lies within. Simplicity of line is prized, extraneous detail discouraged.

Kanō Tanyū (狩野 探幽, 1602 – 1674). “Spring Landscape” hanging scroll, 1672. Ink and tint on silk. Freer Gallery of Art, Washington.
Kanō Tanyū (狩野 探幽, 1602 – 1674). “Spring Landscape” hanging scroll, 1672. Ink and tint on silk. Freer Gallery of Art, Washington.

8 key lessons from Sumi-e (Source: Presentation Zen)

  1. More can be expressed with less.
  2. Never use more (color) when less will do.
  3. Omit useless details to expose the essence.
  4. Careful use of light-dark is important for creating clarity and contrast.
  5. Use color with a clear purpose and informed intention.
  6. Clear contrast, visual suggestion, and subtlety can exist harmoniously in one composition.
  7. In all things: balance, clarity, harmony, simplicity.
  8. What looks easy is hard (but worth it).

Reference

Ink Treasures

Adventures and perils in the life of an innocent flower, or more than one

Anselm Kiefer, Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom
Anselm Kiefer, Let a Thousand Flowers Bloom

In 1957 Mao wrote: “Letting a hundred flowers bloom and a hundred schools of thought contend is the policy of promoting the progress of the arts and sciences.” (1)

Anselm Kiefer, Morgenthau: laßt tausend Blumen blühen; (Morgenthau: Let a thousand flowers bloom), 2012
Anselm Kiefer, Morgenthau: laßt tausend Blumen blühen; (Morgenthau: Let a thousand flowers bloom), 2012

“A World-Historical individual is devoted to the One Aim, regardless of all else.  It is even possible that such men may treat other great, even sacred interests inconsiderately; conduct which is indeed obnoxious to moral reprehension.  But so mighty a form must trample down many an innocent flower or crush to pieces many an object in its path.

From G.W.F. Hegel, Philosophy of History in Jacob Loewenberg (ed.), Hegel: Selections (New York: C. Scribner’s Sons, 1929), pp. 376-80. (2)

Anselm Kiefer, From Oscar Wilde, 1974
Anselm Kiefer, From Oscar Wilde, 1974

The Nightingale and the Rose (1888). In Wilde’s story, the songbird impales herself on the thorn of a rosebush so that her song and blood will infuse the plant and give birth to a red flower. The rose produced by the nightingale’s sacrifice is then plucked by a feckless student of philosophy to give to his unrequited love. In turn she rejects his offer, choosing instead the jewels proffered by another suitor, and the scholar turns back to the only kind of knowledge he comprehends—philosophy. (3)

Anselm Kiefer, For Robert Fludd (Für Robert Fludd), 1995-96
Anselm Kiefer, For Robert Fludd (Für Robert Fludd), 1995-96

For Robert Fludd (Für Robert Fludd, 1995–96) is dedicated to the eponymous English metaphysical philosopher and alchemist (1574–1637), for whom the essence of each and every one of the universe’s elements could be found in mankind, a notion that established a cosmological order between different spheres of the universe. Fludd was also renowned for his understanding of how to convey his philosophical and cosmological ideas graphically, with the help of the best printmakers of his day.

Kiefer began to make books and paintings with underlying themes devoted to Fludd in the early 1990s. This particular book contains a series of photographs illustrating the process of growth in a sunflower field. For Kiefer, sunflowers offer an optimal analogy for Fludd’s thinking about the relationship between the microcosm and the macrocosm. (4)

Odilon Redon, Decorative Floral Panel, Domency 1902, Musee D'Orsay, Paris
Odilon Redon, Decorative Floral Panel, Domency 1902, Musee D’Orsay, Paris

Flower 

by Paul Celan

The stone.
The stone in the air, which I followed.
Your eye as blind as the stone.

We were
hands,
we scooped the darkness empty, we found
the word that ascended summer:
Flower.

Flower—a blindman’s word.
Your eye and my eye:
they look
after water.

Growth.
Heartwall by heartwall
adds on petals.

One more word like this, and the hammers
will be swinging free.

(Trans. John Felstiner)

Original Japanese art "Chrysanthemum" - sumi-e drawing - wash ink - painting - Wall decor - from AnimaAllegra - bamboo brash & rice paper
Original Japanese art “Chrysanthemum” – sumi-e drawing – wash ink – painting – Wall decor – from AnimaAllegra – bamboo brash & rice paper

The chrysanthemum, known as kiku (菊) in Japanese, is the symbol of autumn in Japan. It is at this time of year that the flower blooms most brightly. Once a flower begins to bloom, specialist chrysanthemum growers use custom-made sticks to meticulously train the petals to point upwards. This painstaking attention to detail ensures that the flower has a distinctive and unique look with its some 300 petals all pointing straight up.

Chrysanthemums originated in China, and were later transported to Japan where they have been long admired for their elegance. Chrysanthemum has long been associated with notions of rejuvenation and longevity. In times past, people would use use cloths to wipe chrysanthemum dew on their skin on Chrysanthemum Day, which is on the 9th day of the 9th month of the year, in hopes of maintaining their youth. Today it is still very popular to have chrysanthemum motifs on pieces of clothing and furnishings. (5)

DSC2712

“While walking in the Public Gardens of Palermo, it came to me in a flash that in the organ of the plant which we are accustomed to call the leaf lies the true Proteus who can hide or reveal himself in all vegetal forms. From first to last, the plant is nothing but leaf, which is so inseparable from the future germ that one cannot think of one without the other. Anyone who has had the experience of being confronted by an idea, pregnant with possibilities, whether he thought of it for himself or caught it from others, will know that it creates a tumult and enthusiasm in the mind, which makes one intuitively anticipate its further developments
and the conclusions towards which it points. Knowing this, he will understand that my vision had become an obsessive passion with which I was to be occupied, if not exclusively perhaps, still for the rest of my
life”. [6]

bleeding_red_rose

The Fury of Flowers and Worms

by Anne Sexton

Let the flowers make a journey
on Monday so that I can see
ten daisies in a blue vase
with perhaps one red ant
crawling to the gold center.
A bit of the field on my table,
close to the worms
who struggle blinding,
moving deep into their slime,
moving deep into God’s abdomen,
moving like oil through water,
sliding through the good brown.
The daisies grow wild
like popcorn.
They are God’s promise to the field.
How happy I am, daisies, to love you.
How happy you are to be loved
and found magical, like a secret
from the sluggish field.
If all the world picked daisies
wars would end, the common cold would stop,
unemployment would end, the monetary market
would hold steady and no money would float.
Listen world.
if you’d just take the time to pick
the white flowers, the penny heart,
all would be well.
They are so unexpected.
They are as good as salt.
If someone had brought them
to van Gogh’s room daily
his ear would have stayed on.
I would like to think that no one would die anymore
if we all believed in daisies
but the worms know better, don’t they?
They slide into the ear of a corpse
and listen to his great sigh.

Sources

(1) Let a thousand flowers bloom, The Metropolitan Museum of Arts, New York

(2) HEGEL AND TOTALITARIANISM

(3) From Oscar Wilde, The Metropolitan Museum of Arts, New York

(4) Anselm Kiefer, For Robert Fludd, Guggenheim Museum, Bilbao

(5) What is the meaning of the chrysanthemum (kiku) in the Japanese culture? By Jean Somerville-Rabbitt.

(6) Johann Wolfgand von Goethe, Italian Journey, Penguin