Supreme excellence in the use of ink was attained by the Chinese and
Japanese masters. Impressionism is by no means a modern art (except as to
color‐vibrations) for suggestiveness was highly prized in China a thousand
years ago. The painter expected the beholder to create with him, in a
sense, therefore he put upon paper the fewest possible lines and tones;
just enough to cause form, texture and effect to be felt. Every brush‐
touch must be full‐charged with meaning, and useless detail eliminated.
Put together all the good points in such a method, and you have the
qualities of the highest art; for what more do we require of the master
than simplicity, unity, powerful handling, and that mysterious force that
lays hold upon the imagination. Why the Buddhist priests of the Zen sect
became painters, and why they chose monochrome are questions involving a
knowledge of the doctrines of Buddhism and of the Zen philosophy. It is
sufficient to say here that contemplation of the powers and existences of
external nature, with a spiritual interpretation of them, was the main
occupation of Zen thought. Nature’s lessons could be learned by bringing
the soul to her, and letting it behold itself as in a mirror; the teaching
could be passed on to others by means of art—mainly the art of landscape
painting. Religious emotion was the spring of art‐power in the East, as it
was in the West. Landscape painting as religious art, has its parallel in
Greek and Gothic sculpture, in Italian painting of the world‐story, of the
Nativity, the Passion, and the joys of heaven. Some of these priest‐
artists of the Zen, Mokkei, Kakei, Bayen in China; Shubun, Sesshu in
Japan, rank with the great painters of all time. They, and such pupils as
Sesson, Soami, Motonobu and Tanyu, were classic leaders who have given us
the purest types of the art of ink‐painting. To them we look for the truly
artistic interpretation of nature; for dramatic, mysterious, elusive tone‐
harmony; for supreme skill in brush‐work.
[Japanese sketch of the massing in a painting by an old master]
Ink‐painting is both an art and a craft; it has refinements and
possibilities that can be realized only by working with a Japanese artist.
He starts with a paper of low tone—it may be its natural state, or he may
wash it over with thin ink [No. 61. Painting and detail of painting by
SESSHU.]
[No 62. An Ipswich Hill.]
and color. Into this atmospheric undertone he plays gradations, sharp‐
edged strokes, drops of black, and vibrating washes,—only touching upon
forms, but clearly marking planes of aerial perspective. No. 61.
[Sketch from a XVIIth century Japanese book]
For experiments in ink‐painting I recommend the Japanese paper called
“toshi.”
If this is not within reach, a good substitute may be made by sizing
manila paper with a thin solution of alum. Japanese paper should be wet,
and pasted, by the edges, upon a board. Manila paper, after wetting, may
be tacked upon a stretcher. Japanese ink and ink‐stone, (Chapter II) round
and flat brushes, soft charcoal, and a set of white dishes will be needed.
Sketch in the subject lightly with the charcoal, dust it off and draw the
main lines with pale thin vermilion water color. Wash in the broad masses,
relying upon strengthening by many overtones. Put in the darks last, being
very careful that they are not too sharp‐edged. No. 62.
It is not possible for us to attain perfect mastery of Japanese materials
and methods, but the study will train in appreciation of tone‐composition,
and in better handling of our own water color and oil. Good photogravures
may now be obtained; in some cases the student may copy from originals in
our museums.
[Sketch from a XVIIth century Japanese book]