Alum crystals, called HAN TO SHUN _(Plate XXIV b)_.
The loose rice leaves, called KAI SAKU SHUN _(Plate XXV a)_.
Withered kindling twigs, called RAN SHI SHUN _(Plate XXV b)_.
Scattered hemp leaves, termed RAMMA SHUN _(Plate XXVI a)_.
The wrinkles on a cow’s neck, called GYU MO SHUN _(Plate XXVI b)_.
These eight laws are not only available guides to desired effects; they
also abbreviate labor and save the artist’s attempting the impossible task
of exactly reproducing physical conditions of the earth in a landscape
painting. They are symbols or substitutes for the truth felt. Nothing is
more interesting than such art resources whereby the sentiment of a
landscape is reproduced by thus suggesting or symbolizing many of its
essential features.
It was a theory of the great Chinese teacher, Chinanpin, and particularly
enforced by him, that trees, plants and grasses take the form of a circle,
called in art RIN KAN (see _Plate XXVII_), No. 1; or a semi-circle (HAN
KAN) _(Plate XXVII)_, No. 2; or an aggregation of half-circles, called
fish scales (GYO RIN) _(Plate XXVII)_, No. 3; or a modification of these
latter, called moving fish scales (GYO RIN KATSU HO) _(Plate XXVII)_, No
4. Developing this principle on _Plate XXVIII_, No. 1, we have
theoretically the first shape of tree growth and on _Plate XXVIII_, No. 2,
the same practically interpreted. In Nos. 3 and 4, same plate, we have the
growth of grass illustrated theoretically and practically. In _Plate
XXIX_, according to this method, is constructed the entire skeleton of a
forest tree. In Nos. 1 and 2 on this plate numerous small circles are
indicated. These show where each stroke of the brush begins, the points
of commencement being of prime importance to correct effect. In No. 3,
same plate, we have the foundation work of a tree in a Japanese painting.
It is needless to point out the marvelous vigor apparent in work
constructed according to the above principles.
In the painting of rocks, ledges, and the like, Chinanpin taught that the
curved lines of the fish scales are to be changed into straight lines,
three in number, of different lengths, two being near together and the
third line slightly separated, and all either perpendicular or horizontal,
as in _Plate XXX_, Nos. 1 and 2. In the same plate, Nos. 3 and 4, we have
the principle of rock construction illustrated. In _Plate XXXI_, Nos. 1,
2 and 3, is seen the practical application of this theory to _kakemono_
work. In executing these lines for rocks much stress is laid upon the
principle of IN YO; on the elevated portions the brush must be used
lightly (IN) and on the lower portions it must be applied with strength
(YO). At the bottom, where grass, mould, and moss accumulate, a rather
dry brush (KWAPPITSU) is applied with a firm stroke.
Next, there are laws for near and distant tree, shrubbery and grass
effects, corresponding to the season of the year. These are known as the
laws of dots (TEN PO); the saying TEN TAI SAN NEN indicates that it takes
three years to make them correctly.
They are as follows:
The drooping wistaria dot (SUI TO TEN) _(Plate XXXII a)_ for spring
effects.
The chrysanthemum dot (KIKU KWA TEN) _(Plate XXXII b)_ used in summer
foliage.
The wheel spoke dot (SHA RIN SHIN) _(Plate XXXIII a)_, being the
pine-needle stroke and used for pine trees.
The Chinese character for the verb “to save” (KAI JI TEN) _(Plate XXXIII
b)_, used for both trees and shrubbery.
The pepper dot (KOSHOTEN) _(Plate XXXIV a)_. This dot requires great
dexterity and free wrist movement. It will be observed that the dots are
made to vary in size but are all given the same direction.
The mouse footprints (SO SOKU TEN) _(Plate XXXIV b)_, used for cryptomeria
and other like trees.
The serrated or sawtooth dot (KYO SHI SHIN) _(Plate XXXV a)_, much used
for distant pine-tree effects.
The Chinese character for “one” (ICHI JI TEN) _(Plate XXXV b)_. The effect
produced by this character is very remarkable in representing maple and
other trees whose foliage at a distance appears to be in layers.
The Chinese character for “heart” (SHIN), called SHIN JI TEN _(Plate XXXVI
a)_. This is used most effectively for both foliage and grasses.
The Chinese character for “positively” (HITSU), called HITSU JI TEN
_(Plate XXXVI b)_. This dot or stroke is successfully employed in
reproducing the foliage of the willow tree in spring.
The rice dot, called BEI TEN _(Plate XXXVIII a)_.
The dot called HAKU YO TEN _(Plate XXXVII b)_, being smaller than the
pepper dot, with the clove dot (SHO JI TEN) surrounding it.
It is a strictly observed rule that none of these dots should interfere
with or hide the branches of the trees of which they form part.
The term _chobo chobo_ is applied to the practice of always finishing a
landscape painting, rocks, trees or flowers, with certain dots judiciously
added to enliven and heighten the general effect. These dots, done with a
springing wrist movement, serve to enliven the work and give it freshness,
just as a rain shower affects vegetation. The Kano artists were most
insistent upon _chobo chobo._
There are many quaint aids to artistic effects from time immemorial well
known to and favored by the old Chinese painters and still successfully
practiced in Japan. Probably the larger number of these are employed in
the technical construction of the Four Paragons (p. 66 _et seq.)._ There
are still others: as, for instance, the fish-scale pattern _(Plate XIX)_,
used in painting the clustered needles of the pine tree or the bending
branches of the willow; the stork’s leg for pine tree branches _(Plate
XIX)_; the gourd for the head and elongated jaws of the dragon; the egg
for the body of a bird (_Plate XXII_; the stag horn for all sorts of
interlacing branches; the turtle back pattern or the dragon’s scales for
the pine tree bark. In addition to these, the general shapes of certain
of the Chinese written characters are invoked for reproducing winding
streams _(Plate XX)_, groupings of rocks, meadow, swamp, and other grasses
and the like.
Of course the exact shape of the various Chinese characters here referred
to must not be actually painted into the composition but merely the
sentiment of their respective forms recalled. They are simply practical
memory aids to desired effects.
It is the spirit of the character rather than its exact shape which should
control; the order of the painted strokes being that of the written
character, its sentiment or general shape is thus reproduced.
In this connection I would allude to criticisms or judgments upon Japanese
painting in which particular stress is laid upon its calligraphic quality.
If any Japanese artist was seriously informed that his method of painting
was calligraphic, he would explode with mirth. There are several ways to
account for this rather wide-spread error. Much that is written about
Japanese painting and its calligraphy is but the repetition by one author
of what he has taken on trust from another, an effective way sometimes of
spreading misinformation. It is quite true that the assiduous study of
Chinese writing (SHO) is an essential part of thorough art education in
Japan, not, however, for the purpose of learning to paint as one writes,
or of introducing written characters more or less transformed into a
painting (if that be what is meant by “calligraphic”), but simply to give
the artist freedom, confidence, and grace in the handling of the brush and
to train his eye to form and balance and to acquire both strength of
stroke and a knowledge of the sequence of strokes. To write in Chinese
after the manner of professionals (SHO KA) is truly a great art, esteemed
even higher than painting; it requires thirty years of constant practice
to become expert therein, and it has many laws and profound principles
which, if mastered by artists, will enable them to be all the greater in
their painting, and many Japanese artists have justly prided themselves
upon being expert writers of the Chinese characters. Okyo practiced daily
for three years the writing of two intricate characters standing for his
name, until he was satisfied with their forms, but there is nothing
calligraphic about any of Okyo’s painting.
Possibly what has misled foreign critics and even some Japanese writers is
that there exists a class of men in Japan given to learning, to writing,
and also to painting in a particular way.
These men are called BUN JIN (literati) and their style of painting is
called BUN JIN FU. They are not artists, but are known as Confucius’
scholars (JU SHA), and being professional or trained writers in the
difficult art of Chinese calligraphy they have a manner of painting
strictly _sui generis._ It is known as the NAN GWA or southern literary
way of painting. Their subjects are the bamboo, the plum, the orchid and
the chrysanthemum, called the four paragons (SHI KUN SHI). These and
landscapes they paint with their writing brush and more or less in what is
called the grass character (SO SHO) manner of writing. In fact, they
often aim to make their painting look like writing and they rarely use any
color except light-brown (TAI SHA). They suppress line as distinguished
from mass. This method is called _bokkotsu_ (see _Plate XII_). Such
painting of the NAN GWA school is, in a sense, calligraphic, but that is
not the kind of painting which Japanese artists are taught, practice and
profess, nor is it even recognized as an art, but simply as an eccentric
development of the literary man with a taste for painting. At one time
or another well-known artists, especially at the beginning of the Meiji
era, have affected this BUN JIN calligraphy style simply as a passing
fashion.
One other possible explanation of the critics pronouncing all Japanese
paintings calligraphic is that various Chinese characters are, as we have
seen, invoked and employed by Japanese artists as memory aids to producing
certain effects; but were these characters introduced calligraphically,
the result would be laughable. It should be plain then that Japanese
painting is not calligraphic; as well apply the term calligraphy to one of
Turner’s water colors. On the other hand, Chinese writing is built up on
word pictures. There are between five and six hundred mother characters,
all imitating the shapes of objects; these, with their later combinations,
constitute the Chinese written system, so that while there is nothing
calligraphic about Japanese painting, there is much that is pictorial
about Chinese calligraphy.
Other landscape laws applicable to things seen at a distance in a painting
require that distant trees should show no branches nor leaves; people at a
distance, no features; distant mountains, no ledges; distant seas or
rivers, no waves. Again, clouds should indicate whence they come; running
water the direction of its source; mountains, their chains; and roads,
whither they lead.
In regard to painting moving waters, whether of deep or shallow, in rivers
or brooks, bays or oceans, Chinanpin declared it was impossible for the
eye to seize their exact forms because they are ever changing and have no
fixed, definite shape, therefore they can not be sketched satisfactorily;
yet, as moving water must be represented in painting, it should be long
and minutely contemplated by the artist, and its general character—whether
leaping in the brook, flowing in the river, roaring in the cataract,
surging in the ocean or lapping the shore—observed and reflected upon, and
after the eye and memory are both sufficiently trained and the very soul
of the artist is saturated, as it were, with this one subject and he feels
his whole being calm and composed, he should retire to the privacy of his
studio and with the early morning sun to gladden his spirit there attempt
to reproduce the movement of the flow; not by copying what he has seen,
for the effect would be stiff and wooden, but by symbolizing according to
certain laws what he feels and remembers.
In work of this kind there are certain directions for the employment of
the brush which can only be learned from oral instruction and
demonstration by the master.
In _Plate XXXVIII_ a, 1, the method by which waves are reproduced is
shown, the circles indicating where the brush is turned upon itself before
again curving. On the same plate (b) waveless water, shallow water, and
river water with current are indicated at the top, middle and bottom,
respectively. In _Plate XXXIX_ a, we have the moving waters of an inland
sea; in b, the bounding waters of a brook; in _Plate XL_, the stormy waves
of the ocean.
We will now consider another unique department of Japanese painting in
connection with the garments of human beings. The lines and folds of the
garment may be painted in eighteen different ways according to what are
known as the eighteen laws for the dress (EMON JU HACHI BYO). I will
mention each of these laws in its order and refer to the plate
illustrations of the same.
The floating silk thread line (KOU KO YU SHI BYOU) (_Plate XLI_ upper).
This line was introduced by the Tosa school of artists eight hundred years
ago and has been in favor ever since. It is the purest or standard line
and is reserved for the robes of elevated personages. The brush is held
firmly and the lines, made to resemble silk threads drawn from the cocoon,
are executed with a free and uninterrupted movement of the arm.
The Koto string line (KIN SHI BYOU) (_Plate XLI_ lower). This is a line
of much dignity and of uniform roundness from start to finish. It is
produced by using a little more of the tip of the brush than in the silk
thread line and there must be no break or pause in it until completed.
This line is used for dignified subjects.
Chasing clouds and running water lines (KOU UN RYU SUI BYOU) (_Plate XLII_
upper). These are produced with a wave-like, continuous movement of the
brush—breathing, as it were. Such lines are generally reserved for the
garments of saints, young men and women.
The stretched iron wire line (TETSU SEN BYOU) (_Plate XLII_ lower). This
is a very important line, much employed by Tosa artists and used for the
formal, stiffly searched garments of court nobles, _samurai,_ NO dancers,
and umpires of wrestling matches. When this line is painted the artist
must have the feeling of carving upon metal.
The nail-head and rat-tail line (TEI TOU SOBI BYOU) (_Plate XLIII_ upper).
In making this, the stroke is begun with the feeling of painting and
reproducing the hard nature of a tack and then continued to depict a rat’s
tail, which grows small by degrees and beautifully less.
The line of the female court noble or _tsubone_ (SOU I BYOU) (_Plate
XLIII_ lower). This line and the preceding are much used for the soft and
graceful garments of young men and women and have always been favorites
with the _Ukiyo e_ painters.
The willow-leaf line (RYU YOU BYOU) (_Plate XLIV_ upper). This line has
always been in great favor with all the schools, and especially with the
Kano painters, and is used indiscriminately for goddesses, angels, and
devils. It is intended to reproduce the sentiment of the willow leaf,
commencing with a fine point, swelling a little and again diminishing.
The angleworm line (KYU EN BYOU) (_Plate XLIV_ lower). The angleworm is
of uniform roundness throughout its length and it is with that sentiment
or _kokoromochi_ that it must be painted, care being taken to conceal the
point of the brush along the line. This is a most important line in all
color painting. Indeed, where much pains are to be taken with the picture,
and the colors are to be most carefully laid on, it is the best and
favorite line.
The rusty nail and old post line (KETSU TOU TEI BYOU) (_Plate XLV_ upper).
This line is painted with a brush, the point of which is broken off. The
Kano school of artists particularly affect this method of line painting in
depicting beggars, hermits, and other such characters.
The date seed line (SAU GAI BYOU) (_Plate XLV_ lower). This line,
intended to represent a continuous succession of date seeds, is made with
a throbbing brush and generally used in the garments of sages and famous
men of learning.
The broken reed line (SETSU RO BYOU) (_Plate XLVI_ upper) is made with a
rather dry brush and, as its name indicates, should be painted with the
feeling of reproducing broken reeds. It is a line intended to inspire
terror, awe, consternation, and is used for war gods, FUDO _sama,_ and
other divinities.
The gnarled knot line (KAN RAN BYOU) (_Plate XLVI_ lower). In this kind
of painting the brush is stopped from time to time and turned upon itself
with a feeling of producing the gnarled knots of a tree. The line is much
used for ghosts, dream pictures, and the like.
The whirling water line (SEN PITSU SUI MON BYOU) (_Plate XLVII_ upper) is
used for rapid work and reproduces the swirl of the stream. It was a
favorite line with Kyosai.
The suppression line (GEN PITSU BYOU) (_Plate XLVII_ lower) is suitable
where but few lines enter into the painting of the dress. Any of the
other seventeen lines can be employed in this way. The Kano artists used
it a great deal.
Dry twig or old firewood line (KO SHI BYOU) (_Plate XLVIII_ upper) is
generally used in the robes of old men and produced by what is called the
dry brush; that is, a brush with very little water mixed with the _sumi._
The stroke must be bold and free to be effective.
The orchid leaf line (RAN YAU BYOU) (_Plate XLVIII_ lower). This is a very
beautiful method of painting whereby the graceful shape of the orchid leaf
is recalled; the line is used for the dresses of _geishas_ and beauties
_(bijin)_ generally.
The bamboo leaf line (CHIKU YAU BYOU) (_Plate XLIX_ upper). This style of
painting, which aims at suggesting the leaf of the bamboo, was much in
favor formerly in China. Japanese artists seldom employ it.
The mixed style (KON BYOU) (_Plate XLIX_ lower), in which any of the
foregoing seventeen styles can be employed provided the body of the
garment be laid on first in mass and the lines painted in afterward while
the _sumi_ or paint is still damp. This gives a satiny effect.
There are many other ways of painting the lines of the garment but the
preceding eighteen laws give the strictly classic methods known to
oriental art.
The orchid, bamboo, plum, and chrysanthemum paragons (RAN CHIKU BAI KIKU)
are called in art the Four Paragons. Although these may be the first
studies taught they are generally the last subjects mastered. Much
learning and research have been expended upon them in China and Japan. An
artist who can paint SHI KUN SHI is a master of the brush. I will
indicate some of the laws applicable to each of these subjects.
The orchid grows in the deepest mountain recesses, exhaling its perfume
and unfolding its beauty in silence and solitude, unheralded and unseen;
thus, regardless of its surroundings and fulfilling the law of its being,
fifteen hundred years ago it was proclaimed by the poet and painter San
Koku to typify true nobility and hence was a paragon. In poetry it is
called the maiden’s mirror. Many great Chinese writers have taken the
orchid (RAN) for their nom de plume, as Ran Ya, Ran Tei, Ran Kiku, and Ran
Ryo.
_Plate LII_ shows an orchid plant in flower. The established order of the
brush strokes for the leaves of is indicated at the tips by numerals one
to eleven; that of the flower stalk and flower by numbers twelve to
twenty-one. Various forms are invoked in painting both the plant and the
flower and are more or less graphically suggested. These forms are
indicated by numbers, as follows:
Leaf blade No. 1 reproduces twice the stomach of the mantis (22), the tail
of the rat (23), with the cloud longing (BO UN) of the tip (24). Leaf No.
2 is similarly constructed but is painted to intersect leaf No. 1, leaving
between them a space (No. 25) called the elephant’s eye. Leaf No. 3 is
intersected by leaf No. 4, enclosing another space between them, known as
the eye of the phoenix. Adding leaves Nos. 5 and 6, called SEKI or
_kazari,_ meaning ornament, we have the most essential parts of the orchid
plant. Leaf No. 7 is known as the rat’s tail and leaf No. 8 as the body
of a young carp. Nos. 9,10 and 11 are called nail heads, from their
fancied resemblance to such objects. With these the plant is structurally
complete.
[Bamboo, Sparrow and Rain. Plate VII.]
Bamboo, Sparrow and Rain. Plate VII.
The flower stalk is divided into four parts (Nos. 12 to 15), called rice
sheaths. The flower is made with six strokes (16 to 21), called the
flying bee (26). The three dots in the flower reproduce the sentiment of
the Chinese character for heart (23).
The orchid is variously painted rising from the ground, issuing from the
banks of a brook, or clinging with its roots to a rocky cliff. In
allusion to the lonely places where it grows it is called _I shiri no
kusa_ or the plant which the wild boar knows. The orchid is credited with
medicinal properties, and the flower steeped in wine makes a potion which
secures perpetual health. The charm of friendship is likened unto the
orchid’s perfume and the flowers are worn by the ladies of the court to
ward off maladies.
The leaves of the bamboo are green at all seasons. The stems are straight
and point upwards. The plant is beautiful under all conditions—struggling
beneath the winter snow or fanned by the spring breeze, swaying with the
storm or bending under showers—its grace challenges admiration. Typifying
constancy and upright conduct, it was claimed over a thousand years ago by
Shumo Shiku to be a paragon.
Nothing is more difficult to paint correctly than this plant. _Plate
LIII_ shows the bamboo with its essentially component parts and forms
indicated as follows: The upright stalk is in five subdivisions (1 to 5),
each differing in length but all suggesting the Chinese character for one
(ICHI) painted upright. These are separated from each other by strokes
reproducing the Chinese characters for positively (22), for heart (23),
for second (24), for one (25), and for eight (26). The stem (6 to 10) is
composed of rats’ tails. The manner of painting and combining the leaves
of the bamboo is called _take no ha no kumitata_ and is minutely described
and illustrated in Ransai’s great work, _Gwa Fu._ The essentials are: The
five-leaf arrangement (GO YO) (11 to 15) with the ornament (16), called
_kazari._ The three-leaf arrangement (17 to 19) called KO JI, from its
resemblance to the Chinese character KO (32). The two-leaf arrangement
(20 and 21) called JIN JI, from its resemblance to the character JIN (33),
a man. In further development of the plant the following imitative
arrangements of the leaves are used: The fish tail (GYO BI) (27), the
goldfish triple tail (KINGYO BI) (28), the swallow tail (EN BI) (29), the
Chinese character for bamboo (CHIKU JI) (30), and the seven-leaf
arrangement (SHICHI YO) (31). It will be observed how the odd or positive
numbers (YO) are favored. The foregoing method is used by the Okyo
painters.
The Kano artists have another system for combining and elaborating the
leaf growth, but it does not differ radically from that here given. The
leaf of the bamboo reproduces the shape of a carp’s body (34). It also
resembles the tail feathers of the phoenix. An oil is made from the
bamboo and is said to be good for people with quick tempers. Many artists
adopt the name of bamboo for their nom de plume; witness, Chiku Jo, Chiku
Do, Chiku Sho, Chiku Den and the like.
It is said that the full moon casts the shadow of the bamboo in a way no
other light approaches. The learned Okubu Shibutsu first observed this
and the discovery led to his becoming the greatest of all bamboo painters.
Nightly he used to trace with _sumi_ such bamboo shadows on his paper
window. Sho Hin, a lady artist of Tokyo, enjoys a well-earned reputation
for painting bamboo. She was a pupil of Tai Zan, a Kyoto representative
of the Chinese school. The Kano painters much favored the subject of the
seven sages in the bamboo grove. Bamboo grass (SASSA) is much painted by
all the schools. It is very decorative. There is a male and a female
bamboo; from the latter _(medake)_ arrows are made. The uses to which man
puts the bamboo are surprisingly numerous, thus fortifying its claims to
be regarded a paragon.
The plum is the first tree of the year to bloom. It has a dejicate
perfume. Though the trunk of the tree grows old it renews its youth and
beauty every spring with vigorous fresh branches crowded with buds and
blossoms. In old age the tree takes on the shape of a sleeping dragon.
With no other flower or tree are associated more beautiful and pathetic
folk-lore and historical facts. For these and other reasons Rennasei
assigned to the plum its place as a paragon centuries and centuries ago.
The tree branches with their interlacings reproduce the spirit of the
Chinese character for woman, called JO JI (_Plate L_, No. 1). The blossom
(2) is painted on the principle of IN YO, the upper portion of the petal
line being the positive or YO and the lower being the negative or IN side.
This is repeated five times for the five petals of the blossom (3). The
stamens (4) and pistils are reproductions of the Chinese character SHO,
meaning small. For the calyx (5) the Chinese character for clove (CHO) is
invoked.
The great scholar and nobleman, Sugewara Michizane, particularly loved the
plum tree. Banished from his home, as he was leaving his grounds he
addressed that silent sentinel of his garden in the following verse, which
has earned immortality:
Do thou, dear plum tree, send out thy perfume when the east wind blows;
And, though thy master be no longer here,
Forget not to blossom always when the springtime comes.
In Japan the plum, though not eaten raw, when salted has wonderful
strength sustaining properties, and in wartime supplies as _ume boshi_ a
valuable concentrated food.
The chrysanthemum has been cultivated in China for four thousand years and
its fame was sung by the poet and scholar, To En Mei, who prized it above
all else under heaven and assigned it the rank of paragon.
When all Nature is preparing for the long sleep of winter and the red,
brown and golden forest leaves are dropping, spiritless, to the ground,
the chrysanthemum comes forth from the earth in fresh and radiant colors.
It gladdens the heart in the sad season of autumn. Its clustered petals,
all united and never scattering, typify the family, the state, and the
Empire. For the last six hundred years the sixteen-petaled chrysanthemum
has been the emblem of Imperial sovereignty in Japan. With artists it has
always been a favorite flower subject. There are innumerable ways of
painting it.
_Plate LI_ shows the chrysanthemum flower and leaves painted in the Okyo
manner. There is an established order in which the leaves must be
executed. Viewed from the front (Nos. 1 and 2) the order of the brush
stroke is as indicated on the plate; viewed from the side the brush is
applied in the order indicated in Nos. 4 and 5. The flower (6 and 7) is
built up from the bud (5), petals being added according to the effect
sought. The flower half opened is shown in No. 6, and wholly opened in
No. 7. The calyx somewhat reproduces the Chinese written character CHO.
The Kano painters have a different way of painting the chrysanthemum
leaves and flowers, but the foregoing illustrates the general principles
obtaining in all the schools. Korin painted the KIKU in a manner quite
different from that of any other artist. The word KIKU is Chinese, the
Japanese word for the flower being _kawara yomogi._ The Nagoya artists
have always been particularly skilful in painting the chrysanthemum in an
exceptionally engaging way. The little marguerite-like blossom is called
_mame-giku,_ and is a universal favorite among all artists.
The impression produced on one who for the first time hears enumerated
these various laws may possibly be that all such methods for securing
artistic effects are arbitrary, mechanical and unnatural. But in
practice, the artist who invokes their aid finds they produce invariably
pleasing and satisfactory results. It must not be supposed that such laws
are exclusive of all other methods of painting in the Japanese style. On
the contrary the artist is at liberty to use any other method he may
select provided the result is artistically correct. Many painters have
invented methods of their own which are not included in the foregoing
enumeration of these laws of lines, dots and ledges, which, it must always
be borne in mind, are only to assist the artist who may be in doubt or
difficulty as to how he shall best express the effect he aims at. It is
such second nature for him to employ them that he does so as unconsciously
as one in writing will invoke the rules of grammar. It is related that a
great statesman, being asked if it were necessary for a diplomat to know
Latin and Greek, replied that it was quite sufficient for him to have
forgotten them. And so with these laws. A knowledge of them is a
necessary part of the education of every Japanese artist, for they lie at
the very foundation of the art of oriental painting. Chinese writing
abounds with similar principles; it is a law applicable to one kind of
such writing, called REI SHO, that in each character there shall be one
stroke which begins with the head of a silkworm and terminates with a
goose’s tail. This also may sound odd and seem forced, yet this law gives
a special and wonderful _cachet_ to the character so written.
Some acquaintance with these principles and methods invoked by artists
adds much to our keen enjoyment of their work, just as an analysis of the
chords in a musical composition increases our pleasure in the harmonies
they produce. Ruskin has discovered in the very earliest art the frequent
use of simple forms suggested by the slightly curved and springing profile
of the leaf bud which, he declares, is of enormous importance even in
mountain ranges, when not vital but falling force is suggested. “This
abstract conclusion the great thirteenth century artists were the first to
arrive at” (Ruskin’s Mod. Painters, Vol. III), and even in the
architecture of the best cathedrals that author detects the observance of
the law determining in an ivy leaf the arrangement of its parts about a
center.
In Japanese art simple forms supplied by nature are often used for
suggesting other forms as, for instance, the stork’s legs for the pine
tree branches, the turtle’s back for the pine bark lines, the fish tail
for bamboo leafage, the elephant’s eye in the orchid plant, the shape of
Fujiyama for the forehead of a beautiful woman, and various Chinese
characters, originally pictorial, adumbrated in trees, flowers and other
subjects. The universality of such underlying type forms recognized and
applied by oriental artists is confirmatory of the principle that in both
nature and art all is united by a common chain or _commune vinculum_
attesting the harmony between created things. A Japanese painting
executed with the aid of such resources teems with vital force and
suggestion, and to the eye of a connoisseur _(kuroto)_ becomes a breathing
microcosm.
To give some idea of the order in which the component parts of an object
are painted according to Japanese rules, which are always stringently
insisted upon, flowers like the chrysanthemum and peony are begun at their
central point and built up from within outwardly, the petals being added
to increase the size as the flower opens. In a flower subject the
blossoms are painted first; the buds come next; then the stem, stalks,
leaves and their veinings, and lastly the dots called _chobo chobo._
The established order for the human figure is as follows: Nose and
eyebrows, eyes, mouth, ears, sides of the face, chin, forehead, head,
neck, hands, feet, and finally the appareled body. In Japanese art the
nude figure is never painted.
In a tree the order is trunk, central and side limbs _(Plate XXI)_,
branches and their subdivisions, leaves and their veinings, and dots.
In birds: The beak in three strokes (TEN, CHI, JIN), the eye, the head,
the throat and breast, the back, the wings, the body, the tail, the legs,
claws, nails and eyeball _(Plate XXII)_.
In landscape work the general rule is to paint what is nearest first and
what is farthest last. Kubota’s method was to do all this rapidly and, if
possible, with one dip of the well-watered brush into the _sumi,_ so that
as the _sumi_ becomes gradually diluted and exhausted the proper effect of
foreground, middle distance and remote perspective is obtained.
In painting mountain ranges that recede one behind the other the same
process is followed, and mountains as they disappear to the right or left
of the picture should tend to rise. This principle is called BO UN or
cloud longing.
It is useless here to enumerate the many faults which art students are
warned against committing. Suffice it to say the number is enormous. Out
of many of the Chinese formulas I will give only one, which is known as
SHI BYO or the four faults, and is as follows:
JA, KAN, ZOKU, RAI. JA refers to attempted originality in a painting
without the ability to give it character, departing from all law to
produce something not reducible to any law or principle. KAN is producing
only superficial, pleasing effect without any _power_ in the brush
stroke—a characterless painting to charm only the ignorant. ZOKU refers to
the fault of painting from a mercenary motive only,—thinking of money
instead of art. RAI is the base imitation of or copying or cribbing from
others.
[Chapter 5 Head-Band: Maple leaves are associated with Ten Jin (Sugiwara
Michizane), patron of learning. Children in invoking his aid in a little
prayer count the points of the maple leaf, saying, “yoku te agar”—assist
us to be clever. In Japanese the maple leaf is called kaide, meaning
frog’s hand.]