Upon a subject as technical as that of Japanese painting, to endeavor to
impart correct information in a way that shall be both instructive and
entertaining is an undertaking of no little difficulty. The rules and
canons of any art when enumerated, classified and explained, are likely to
prove trying, if not wearisome reading. Yet, if our object be to acquire
accurate knowledge, we must consent to make some sacrifice to attain it,
and there is no royal road to a knowledge of Japanese painting.
We have little or no opportunity in America, excepting in one or two
cities, to see good specimens of the work of the great painters of Japan.
Furthermore, such work in _kakemono_ form is seen to much disadvantage
when exhibited in numbers strung along the walls of a museum. Japanese
_kakemono_ (hanging paintings) are best viewed singly, suspended in the
recess of the _tokonoma,_ or alcove. A certain seclusion is essential to
the enjoyment of their delicate and subtle effects; the surroundings
should be suggestive of leisure and repose, which the Japanese word
_shidzuka,_ often employed in art language, well describes.
The Japanese technique, by which I understand the established manner in
which their effects in painting are produced, differs widely from that of
European art. The Japanese brushes _(Jude_ and _hake),_ colors and
materials influence largely the method of painting. The canons or
standards by which Japanese art is to be judged are quite special to Japan
and are scarcely understood outside of it. Since the subject is
technical, to treat it in a popular way is to risk the omission of much
that is essential. I will endeavor, at any rate, to give an outline of
its fundamental principles, first saying a word or two about the tools and
materials.
In Japanese painting no oils are used. _Sumi_ (a black color in cake form)
and water-colors only are employed, while Chinese and Japanese paper and
specially prepared silk take the place of canvas or other material.
Japanese artists do not paint on easels; while at work they sit on their
heels and knees, with the paper or silk spread before them on a soft
material, called _mosen,_ which lies upon the matting or floor covering.
After one becomes accustomed to this position, he finds it gives, among
other things, a very free use of the right arm and wrist.
Silk _(e ginu)_ is prepared for painting by first attaching it with boiled
rice mucilage to a stretching frame. A sizing of alum and light glue
(called _dosa)_ is next applied, care being taken not to wet the edges of
the silk attached to the frame, which would loosen the silk.
It has been found that paper lasts much longer than silk, and also can be
more easily restored when cracked with age.
The artists of the Tosa school used a paper various kinds called
_tori no ko,_ into the composition of which egg-shells entered. This
paper was a special product of Ichi Zen.
The Kano artists used both _tori no ko_ and a paper made from the mulberry
plant, also a product of Ichi Zen, and known as _hosho._ For ordinary
tracing a paper called TENGU JO is used. In Okyo’s time, Chinese paper
made from rice-plant leaves came into vogue. It is manufactured in large
sheets and is called TOSHI. It is a light straw color, and is very
responsive to the brush stroke, except when it “catches cold,” as the
Japanese say. It should be kept in a dry place.
The Tosa artists used paper almost to the exclusion of silk. The Kano
school largely employed silk for their paintings. Okyo also usually
painted on silk.
Japanese artists seldom outline their work. In painting on silk, a rough
sketch in _sumi_ is sometimes placed under the silk for guidance.
Outlining on paper is done with straight willow twigs of charcoal, called
_yaki sumi,_ easily erased by brushing with a feather.
There are strict, and when once understood, reasonable and helpful laws
for the use of the brush (YOHITSU), the use of _sumi_ (YOBOKU) and the use
of water-colors (SESSHOKU). These laws reach from what seems merely the
mechanics of painting into the highest ethics of Japanese art.
The law of YO HITSU requires a free and skilful handling of the brush,
always with strict attention to the stroke, whether dot, line or mass is
to be made; the brush must not touch the silk or paper before reflection
has determined what the stroke or dot is to express. Neither negligence
nor indifference is tolerated.
An artist, be he ever so skilful, is cautioned not to feel entirely
satisfied with his use of the brush, as it is never perfect and is always
susceptible of improvement. The brush is the handmaid of the artist’s
soul and must be responsive to his inspiration. The student is warned to
be as much on his guard against carelessness when handling the brush as if
he were a swordsman standing ready to attack his enemy or to defend his
own life; and this is the reason: Everything in art conspires to prevent
success. The softness of the brush requires the stroke to be light and
rapid and the touch delicate. The brush, when dipped first into the
water, may absorb too much or not enough, and the _sumi_ or ink taken on
the brush may blot or refuse to spread or flow upon the material, or it
may spread in the wrong direction. The Chinese paper (TOSHI) which is
employed in ordinary art work may be so affected by the atmosphere as to
refuse to respond, and the brush stroke must be regulated accordingly.
All such matters have to be considered when the brush is being used, and
if the spirit of the artist be not alert, the result is failure. (IT TEN
ICHI BOKU _ni_ CHIU _o su beki.)_
Vehicle of the subtle sentiment to be expressed in form, the brush must be
so fashioned as to receive and transmit the vibrations of the artist’s
inner self. Much care, much thought and skill have been expended in the
manufacture of the brush.
In China, the art of writing preceded painting, and the first brushes made
were writing brushes, and the more writing developed into a wonderful art,
the more attention was bestowed upon the materials composing the writing
brush. Such brushes were originally made with rabbit hair, round which
was wrapped the hair of deer and sheep, and the handles were mulberry
stems. Later on, as Chinese characters became more complex and writing
more scientific, the brushes were most carefully made of fox and rabbit
hair, with handles of ivory, and they were kept in gold and jeweled boxes.
Officials were enjoined to write all public documents with brushes having
red lacquer handles, red being a positive or male (YO) color. Ogishi, the
greatest of the Chinese writers, used for his brushes the feelers from
around the rat’s nose and hairs taken from the beak of the kingfisher.
In Japan, hair of the deer, badger, rabbit, sheep, squirrel, and wild
horse all enter into the manufacture of the artist’s brush, which is made
to order, long or short, soft or strong, stiff or pliable. For laying on
color, the hair of the badger is preferred. The sizes and shapes of
brushes used differ according to the subject to be painted. There are
brushes for flowers and birds, human beings, landscapes, lines of the
garments, lines of the face, for laying on color, for shading, et cetera.
A distinguishing feature in Japanese painting is the strength of the brush
stroke, technically called _fude no chikara_ or _fude no ikioi._ When
representing an object suggesting strength, such, for instance, as a rocky
cliff, the beak or talons of a bird, the tiger’s claws, or the limbs and
branches of a tree, the moment the brush is applied the sentiment of
strength must be invoked and felt throughout the artist’s system and
imparted through his arm and hand to the brush, and so transmitted into
the object painted; and this nervous current must be continuous and of
equal intensity while the work proceeds. If the tree’s limbs or branches
in a painting by a Kano artist be examined, it will astonish any one to
perceive the vital force that has been infused into them. Even the
smallest twigs appear filled with the power of growth—all the result of
_fude no chikara._ Indeed, when this principle is understood, and in the
light of it the trees of many of the Italian and French artists are
critically viewed, they appear flabby, lifeless, and as though they had
been done with a feather. They lack that vigor which is attained only by
_fude no chikara,_ or brush strength.
In writing Chinese characters in the REI SHO manner this same principle is
carefully inculcated. The characters must be executed with the feeling of
their being carved on stone or engraved on steel—such must be the force
transmitted through the arm and hand to the brush. Thus executed the
writings seem imbued with living strength.
It is related of Chinanpin, the great Chinese painter, that an art student
having applied to him for instruction, he painted an orchid plant and told
the student to copy it. The student did so to his own satisfaction, but
the master told him he was far away from what was most essential. Again
and again, during several months, the orchid was reproduced, each time an
improvement on the previous effort, but never meeting with the master’s
approval. Finally Chinanpin explained as follows: The long, blade-like
leaves of the orchid may droop toward the earth but they all long to point
to the sky, and this tendency is called cloud-longing (BO UN) in art.
When, therefore, the tip of the long slender leaf is reached by the brush
the artist must feel that the same is longing to point to the clouds.
Thus painted, the true spirit and living force _(kokoromochi)_ of the
plant are preserved.
Kubota recommended to art students and artists to a practice with lines
which is excellent for acquiring and retaining firmness and freedom of the
arm, with steady and continuous strength in the stroke. With a brush held
strictly perpendicular to the paper horizontal lines are painted, first
from right to left, the entire width of the TOSHI or other paper, each
line with equal thickness and unwavering intensity of power throughout its
entire length. The thickness of the line will depend upon the amount of
hair in the brush that is allowed to touch the paper; if only the tip of
the brush be used, the line will be slender or thin; but, whether a broad
band or a delicate tracing, it must be uniform throughout and filled with
living force. Next, the lines are painted from left to right in the same
way and with the same close attention to uniform thickness and continuous
flow of nervous strength from start to finish. Then, the increasingly
difficult task is to paint them from top to bottom of the TOSHI, and
finally, most difficult and most important of all these exercises, the
parallel lines are traced from bottom to top of the paper. The thinner
the line the more difficult it is to execute, because of the tendency of
the hand to tremble. Indeed, the difficulty is supreme. Let any one who
is interested try this; it is an exercise for the most expert. Such lines
resemble the _sons filés_ on the violin, where a continuous sustained tone
of equal intensity is produced by drawing the bow from heel to tip so
slowly over the strings that it hardly moves. Practicing lines in the way
indicated gives steadiness and strength, qualities in demand at every
instant in Japanese art. Observe a Japanese artist paint the young branch
of a plum tree shooting from the trunk. The new year’s growth starting,
it may be, from the bottom of the TOSHI will be projected to the top.
Examine it carefully and it will be found to conform to that principle of
_jude no chikara_ which transfers a living force into the branch. I have
seen European artists in Japan vainly try offhand to produce such effects;
but these depend on long and patient practice.
A Japanese artist will frequently ignore the boundaries of the paper upon
which he paints by beginning his stroke upon the MOSEN and continuing it
upon the paper—or beginning it upon the paper and projecting it upon the
MOSEN. This produces the sentiment or impression of great strength of
stroke. It animates the work. And in this energetic kind of painting, if
drops of _sumi_ accidentally fall from the brush upon the painting they
are regarded as giving additional energy to it. Similarly, if the stroke
on the trunk or branch of a tree shows many thin hair lines where the
intention was that the line should be solid, this also is regarded as an
additional evidence of stroke energy and is always highly prized.
The same principle applies in the art of Chinese writing; but this effect
must not be the result of calculation—it must be what in art is called SHI
ZEN, meaning spontaneous.
In painting the hair of monkeys, bears and the like, the pointed brush is
flattened and spread out _(wari fude)_ so that each stroke of the same
will reproduce numberless thin lines, corresponding to the hairs of the
animal. Sosen thus painted. In modern times Kimpo _(Plate V)_ is justly
renowned for such work.
Many artists become wonderfully expert in the use of the flat brush, from
one to four inches wide, called _hake,_ by means of which instantaneous
effects such as rain, rocks, mountain chains and snow scenes are secured.
Some artists acquire a special reputation for skill in the use of the
_hake._
The brush should be often and thoroughly rinsed during the time that it is
used and washed and dried when not employed. In Kyoto, Osaka and Tokyo
there are famous manufacturers of artists’ brushes, and names of makers
such as Nishimura, Sugiyama, Hakkado, Onkyodo and Kiukyodo are familiar to
all the artists of the country.
The use of _sumi_ (YOBOKU) is the really distinguishing feature of
Japanese painting. Not only is this black color _(sumi)_ used in all
water color work, but it is frequently the only color employed; and a
painting thus executed, according to the laws of Japanese art, is called
_sumi e_ and is regarded as the highest test of the artist’s skill.
Colors can cheat the eye _(damakasu)_ but _sumi_ never can; it proclaims
the master and exposes the tyro.
The terms “study in black and white,” “India ink drawing” and the like,
since all are only makeshift translations, are misleading. The Chinese
term “BOKUGWA” is the exact equivalent of _sumi e_ and both mean and
describe the same production. _Sumi e_ is not an “ink picture,” since no
ink is used in its production. Ink is the very opposite of _sumi_ both in
its composition and effect. Ink is an acid and fluid. _Sumi_ is a solid
made from the soot obtained by burning certain plants (for the best
results _juncus communis,_ bull rush, or the _sessamen orientalis),_
combined with glue from deer horn. This is molded into a black cake
which, drying thoroughly if kept in ashes, improves with age. In much of
the good _sumi_ crimson _(beni)_ is added for the sheen, and musk perfume
_(Jako)_ is introduced for antiseptic purposes. When a dead finish or
surface _(tsuya o keshi)_ is desired, as, for instance, where the female
coiffure is to be painted and a lusterless ground is needed for contrast
with the shining strands of the hair, a little white pulverized oyster
shell, called GO FUN, is mixed, with the _sumi._ Commercial India ink
resembles _sumi_ in appearance, but is very inferior to it in quality.
The methods of _sumi_ manufacture are carefully guarded secrets. China
during the Ming dynasty, three centuries ago, produced the best _sumi,_
although China _sumi_ (TOBOKU) employed twelve centuries past shows both
in writing and in painting as distinctly and brilliantly today as though
it were but recently manufactured. Nara, near Kyoto, was the birthplace
of Japanese _sumi,_ and the house of Kumagai _(Kyukyodo)_ for centuries
has had its manufacturers in that city. In Tokyo a distinguished maker,
whose _sumi_ many of the artists there prefer, is Baisen. He has devoted
fifty years of his life to the study and compounding of this precious
article. He possesses some great secrets of manufacture which may die
with him. In Okyo’s time there was a dark blue _sumi_ called AI EN BOKU
but the art and secret of its manufacture are lost.
In using _sumi_ the cake is moistened and rubbed on a slab called
_suzuri,_ producing a semi-fluid. The well-cleaned brush is dipped first
into clear water and then into the prepared _sumi._ When the _sumi_ is
taken on the brush it should be used without delay; otherwise it will
mingle with the water of the brush and destroy the desired balance between
the water and the _sumi._ For careful work the _sumi_ is first
transferred on the brush from the _suzuri_ to a white saucer, where it is
tested. It is a singular fact that the color of _sumi_ will differ
according to the manner in which it is rubbed upon the stone. The best
results are obtained when a young maiden is employed for the purpose, her
strength being just suitable.
It is very important while painting with _sumi_ to renew its strength
frequently by fresh applications of the cake to the slab. The color and
richness of _sumi_ left upon the slab soon fade; and though when used this
may not be apparent, when the _sumi_ dries on the paper or silk its
weakness is speedily perceived.
By the dexterous use of _sumi_ colors may be successfully suggested,
materials apparently reproduced and by what is termed BOKUSHOKU, or the
brush-stroke play of light and shade, the very rays of the sun may be
imprisoned within the four corners of a picture. Artists are readily
recognized in their work by their manner of using or laying on _sumi._
The color, the sheen, the shadings and the flow of the ink enable us even
to determine the disposition or state of mind of the artist at the time of
painting, so sensitive, so responsive is _sumi_ to the mood of the artist
using it. There is much of engaging interest in connection with this
subject. Artists become most difficult to satisfy on the subject of the
various kinds of _sumi,_ which differ as much in their special qualities
as the tones of celebrated violins. It is interesting to observe how
different the color or richness of the same _sumi_ becomes according to
the varying skill with which it is applied.
The mineral character of the _suzuri_ has also much to do with the
production of the best and richest black tones.
The most valuable stone for _suzuri_ is known throughout the entire
oriental world as TAN KEI and is found in the mountain of Fuka in China.
This stone has gold streaks through it, with small dots called bird’s
eyes. The water which flows from Fuka mountain is blue. The color of the
rock is violet. A favorite color for the _suzuri_ (in Chinese called KEN)
is lion’s liver. Formerly much ceremony was observed in mining for this
stone and sheep and cattle were offered in sacrifice, else it was believed
that the stone would be struck by a thunderbolt and reduced to ashes in
the hands of its possessor. The _suzuri_ is also made in China from river
sediment fashioned and baked. Still another method is to make the
_suzuri_ from paper and the varnish of the lacquer tree. Such are called
paper _suzuri_ (SHI KEN). In Thibet _suzuri_ are made from the bamboo
root. In Japan the best stones for _suzuri_ are found near Hiroshima in
Kiushu, the grain being hard and fine.
The skilful use of water colors is called SESSHOKU. It is more difficult
to paint with _sumi_ alone than use of water to paint with the aid of
colors, which can hide defects never to be concealed in a _sumi e,_ where
painting over _sumi_ a second time is disastrous. Japanese painters as a
rule are sparing of colors, the slightest amount used discreetly and with
restraint generally sufficing. Many artists have not the color sense or
dislike color and seldom use it. Kubota often declared he hoped to live
until he might feel justified in discarding color and employing _sumi_
alone for any and all effects in painting.
There are eight different ways of painting in color. I will enumerate
them, with their technical, descriptive terms:
In the best form of color painting (GOKU ZAI SHIKI) _(Plate IX)_ the color
is most carefully laid on, being applied three times or oftener if
necessary. On account of these repeated coats this form is called TAI
CHAKU SHOKU. This style of painting is reserved for temples, gold
screens, palace ceilings and the like. Tosa and _Yamato e_ painters
generally followed this manner.
The next best method of coloring (CHU ZAI SHIKI) _(Plate X)_ is termed
CHAKU SHOKU, or the ordinary application of color. The Kano and Shijo
schools use this method extensively, as did also the _Ukiyo e_ painters.
The light water-color method, called TAN SAI _(Plate XI)_, is employed in
the ordinary style of painting _kakemono_ and is much used by the Okyo
school.
The most interesting form of painting, technically called BOKKOTSU _(Plate
XII)_, is that in which all outlines are suppressed and _sumi_ or color is
used for the masses. Another Japanese term for the same is _tsuketate._
[Tree Squirrel, by Mochizuki Kimpo. Plate V.]
Tree Squirrel, by Mochizuki Kimpo. Plate V.
The method of shading, called GOSO _(Plate XIII)_, invented by a Chinese
artist, Godoshi, who lived one thousand years ago, consists in applying
dark brown color or light _sumi_ wash over the _sumi_ lines. This style
was much employed by Kano painters and for art printing.
The light reddish-brown color, technically called SENPO SHOKU _(Plate
XIV)_, is mostly used in printing pictures in book form.
Another form similarly used is called HAKUBYO _(Plate XV)_ or white
pattern, no color being employed.
Lastly, there is the _sumi_ picture or _sumi e_ _(Plate XVI)_, technically
called SUIBOKU,—to which reference has already been made—where _sumi_ only
is employed, black being regarded as a color by Japanese artists.
A well-known method by which the autumnal tints of forest leaves are
produced is to take up with the brush one after another and in the
following order these colors: Yellow-green _(ki iro),_ brown (TAI SHA),
red (SHU), crimson _(beni),_ and last, and on the very tip of the brush,
_sumi._ The brush thus charged and dexterously applied gives a charming
autumn effect, the colors shading into each other as in nature.
There are five parent colors in Japanese art: parent colors Blue (SEI),
yellow (AU), black (koku), white (BYAKU), combinations and red (SEKI).
These in combination (CHO GO) originate other colors as follows: Blue and
yellow produce green _(midori);_ blue and black, dark blue _(ai nezumi);_
blue and white, sky-blue _(sora iro);_ blue and red, purple _(murasaki)_;
yellow and black, dark green _(unguisu cha)_; yellow and red, orange
_(kaba);_ black and red, brown _(tobiiro);_ black and combinations white,
gray _(nezumiiro)._ These secondary colors in combination produce other
tones and shades required. Powdered gold and silver, and crimson made
from the saffron plant are also employed. The colors, excepting yellow,
are prepared for use by mixing them with light glue upon a saucer. With
yellow, water alone is used. In addition to all the foregoing there are
other expensive colors used in careful work and known as mineral earths
_(iwamono)._ They are blue (GUNJO), dark or Prussian blue (KONJO), light
bluish-green (GUNROKU), green (ROKUSHO), light green (BYAKUGUN), pea green
(CHA-ROKU SHO) and light red (SANGO MATSU).
The use of primary colors in a painting in proximity to secondary ones
originated by them is color to be avoided, as both lose by such contrast;
and when a color-scheme fails to give satisfaction it will usually be
found that this cardinal principle of harmony, called _iro no kubari,_ has
been disregarded by the artist. Color in art is the dress, the apparel in
which the work is clad. It must be suitably combined, restrained, and
attract no undue attention _(medatsunai)._ True color sense is a special
gift.
[Chapter 4 Head-Band: The pattern (moyo) known as bamboo and the swelling
sparrow (take nifukura susume). The parts of the bird are amusingly
conventionalized—in the Korin manner. The word fukura written in Chinese
contains the lucky character fuku (happiness).]