Blog|Art U Staff Blog “asobe”

 白髪一雄の<水滸伝シリーズ>Kazuo Shiraga’s SUIKODEN series

造形の純粋性を求める吉原治良は作品にタイトルを付けることを嫌っていました。白髪さんはそれにに渋々従って<無題>とか<作品 B>とか無機質なタイトルを付けていました。しかし白髪さんにとってはタイトルは必然性があるのです。とりわけ ‘59年から始まった<水滸伝シリーズ>は白髪一雄の画業の核になるものですが、それは中学生の頃から原書まで読むほど傾倒していて白髪さんのの血肉になっているものです。ですから、作品は登場人物の表現なのです。

Seeking purity of art, Jiro Yoshihara disliked the practice of giving titles to works. Kazuo Shiraga followed Yoshihara’s lead somewhat grudgingly, using lifeless, unemotional titles such as Untitled and Work B. But Shiraga actually saw a title as essential. This is particularly clear in the SUIKODEN series of paintings that he began in 1959, which forms the core of his oeuvre. The series is based on the Water Margin stories that had become an inseparable part of Shiraga’s makeup. He even read them in the original Chinese while still in junior high school. The works in this series are representations of SUIKODEN characters.

確か亡くなられる前年、アート・遊の展覧会で<地耗星白日鼠(Chizokusei Hakujitsuso) >をご覧になった時、〜<地賊星鼓上蚤(Chikousei Kojoso)>とこの2点がなかなかかけへんかったんや、なんでぃゆうたらこの二人はこそ泥とチンピラやからわし嫌いなんや!ほんでどうしてもかけぇへんかったんや、これでようよう水滸伝が完結したのや〜と感無量でおっしゃっていたお顔が今も目に浮かんできます。

The year before he died, he saw Chikousei Hakujitsuso at Art U’s exhibition. I remember vividly the depth of emotion in his face as he talked about this work and Chizokusei Kojoso: “Those two were particularly difficult because I hate the characters; one’s a sneak thief, and the other’s a hoodlum. I couldn’t paint them for ages, so they ended up being the last in the series.”

成る程108点のシリーズの内、約 106点が ‘60年代に制作されている、それは比叡山修行前の最も油の乗った壮年期でありまた生白髪(なましらが)の時期です。それらの作品のクオリティの高さと点数からいっても白髪の画業にとり水滸伝は抜き差しならぬものであることは申すまでもないと思います。そして何よりも私の探究心が刺激されるのは、白髪一雄を形成する大陸・中国文化の周波数の根源です。それは日本文化のルーツへの憧憬でもありましょう。

That explained why of the 108 works in the series, 106 were created in the 1960s, the “unadulterated Shiraga” period when the artist was in his prime, before going off to Mount Hiei and becoming a monk. In terms of both quality and number of items produced, the SUIKODEN series is indisputably an inextricable part of his work. And what stimulated my curiosity more than anything was that its origin was on the same frequency as the continental-Asian, Chinese culture that had a formative influence on Kazuo Shiraga. His attraction to the roots of Japanese culture surely comes from the same source.

白髪の一番のお気に入りは京都国立近代美術館蔵の< 天魁星呼保義(Tenkaisei Kohogi)>です。天暴星両頭蛇は猟師だったので、狩猟好きの白髪が最も共鳴した人物であったのではないでしょうか 。梁山泊ではないが<水滸伝シリーズ>が一堂に集結する展覧会があったらと夢は膨らみます。国内の美術館に 40 点 余収蔵されていますから夢のまた夢ではないでしょう。はたまた海外に流出した水滸伝シリーズを訪ねてお遍路の旅をしょうかな?と私の妄想は膨らんでいくのです。

Shiraga’s personal favorite is Tenbousei Ryoutouda, which is in the collection of the National Museum of Modern Art, Kyoto. The Tenbousei Ryoutouda character was a hunter, which is almost certainly why he resonated most with Shiraga, who was himself a keen hunter. Osaka may not be Mount Liang, but I have growing dreams of an exhibition that brings together all the characters of the SUIKODEN series. Japanese art museums already have more than 4o of the works in the series, so maybe the dream is not totally unrealistic. Perhaps I could start with a pilgrimage to visit all the SUIKODEN works that are scattered around the world? This dream is getting more and more interesting!

追; #177「聖狗」はもともと無題でありましたがアート・遊の展覧会の時に自らマジックペンでキャンバスの裏にタイトルを記されました。その様はまるで名無しの子供にやっと名前を付けられたという産みの親のお顔でした。

PS: Work #177, Seiku, started out without a name, but when Kazuo Shiraga re-encountered it at the Art U exhibition, he wrote the title on the back of the canvas with a permanent marker. He looked as delighted as a parent separated from a child at birth who was finally able to give the child its name.

 

shiraga4

 

お水取り(修二会)Omizutori ceremony

img_3964

ニュースが東大寺のお水取りの始まりを写していた。丁度白髪先生の比叡山修行のところを読み返していたのでかビビッときてすぐさま行った。大門を潜っても二月堂への路は遠い。まるで一歩一歩と古代の時間に入っていくようだ。見上げれば松陰の間に三日月が空を切る。それは古径の線のように靭く。

灯が消され、二月堂は漆黒に包まれる。漆黒は人々の騒めきも飲み込んでしまう。やがて階段から小さな松明が密やかに、松明は次第に大きくなっていく、大きな松明がまるデーモンのように荒らしく駆け登っていく。次から次えと息をする間もなく。童子は回廊の大柱では高々と松明を振り回す、炎は風と戦うように勢いを増し火花を猛烈にドロッピングする。そして、炎のマッスは欄干を猛スピードで奔る。大柱で止められた炎は高々と持ち上げられ容赦なく人々の上に火花を撒き散らす。私は火の粉を被りながら、白髪先生のロープで製作している姿を呼び覚まされたのでした。

Just after I re-read Shiraga’s description of his training at the temple on Mount Hiei, I saw a newscast about the Omizutori (Shuni-e) ceremony beginning at Todaiji temple in Nara. Something clicked, so I rushed off to catch the ceremony. Arriving at Todaiji and entering the main gate, there was still a long way to walk. Each step I took seemed like a step back in time. Looking up, the crescent moon cut across the sky between the darkened pine trees, as supple as a line painted by Kokei Kobayashi.

With all the lights out, Nigatsu-do and its surroundings were pitch black, smothering the commotion of the people below. Then, the flames of small torches appeared quietly on the stairs. The torches grew larger, and a big torch rushed up the stairs as if it were a demon. One thing happened after another, without the chance to catch a breath. When the doji holding the torches arrive at the deck at the front of the hall, they lift their torches up high by the corner-post and wave them around, fanning the flames. The torches flare up vigorously, flames pitted against the rush of air, dropping a frenzy of sparks. Then the mass of flames rushes furiously along the balustrade until blocked by the post at the end, where the torch is lifted up again, remorselessly scattering sparks on the people below. Bathed in the shower of sparks, I recalled the figure of Shiraga painting, holding onto his rope.

足の筆で描く東洋のスピリット・白髪一雄 Kazuo Shiraga—the spirit of the East, painting with his feet as a brush

img582

久し振りに尼崎文化センターの白髪一雄記念室に行った。今の展示は〜密教との出会い〜、「大威徳尊」 1973がメインに展示されていた。私は入るなり撃れてしまった!本当に腰が抜ける思いがした。まるで足萎えのようにただ立ち尽くしていた。生前お出会いした穏やかな白髪さんについつい惑わされて身近な存在に思っていたが、それはとんでもないことであったのだ。白髪師の本体は遥か天上界に在ったのだ。

I recently went to see the Kazuo Shiraga room at the Amagasaki Cultural Center, my first visit in quite a while. The current display, entitled Mikkyo to no Deai (encounter with esoteric Buddhism), featured Daiitokuson (1973) as the main exhibit. As soon as I saw it, I was stunned. I just stood there, unable to move. The calm and peaceful Kazuo Shiraga that I had met had lulled me into a sense of familiarity, thinking that I knew him, but this painting unceremoniously shocked me into realizing my error, demonstrating that Shiraga’s essence was actually on a completely different level, out of this world.

書や墨彩に精通していた白髪師は足を、足指をまるで筆のようにしで描いたのだ。作品から親指の小指の微妙な感触が生々しく伝わってくるのを感じる。ロープの勢いと足指の刹那の痕跡が作品となる。なんとその繊細なことだろうか?私は今までなんと大雑把な見方をしていたことだろうかと恥いった。足指をこれほど芸術に昇華した人はいない。改めて足で描くパイオニヤであることを認識させられた。

Shiraga was very familiar with calligraphy and bokusai-ga (sumi ink paintings that incorporate color), and used his toes to produce what seemed like exquisite brushwork. This work vividly communicates the delicate touch of his big and little toes. The momentum of the rope and the momentary traces left by his toes combine perfectly. The delicacy is astounding. I’m ashamed to admit that until now my perspective had been too crude to notice. Surely no-one else has ever incorporated every fiber of his toes into his art to such an extent. Shiraga is indisputably a true pioneer of painting with the feet.

作品から放出される猛烈なエネルギーのエスプリ、それは西洋的なものとは違う。私たちの DNAの奥底に潜む大陸的な東洋のエスプリを触発する。 そして長澤蘆雪、曾我蕭白、富岡鉄斎の作品を目にした時と同種の感性を発掘させられる。学芸員さんから白髪師は富岡鉄斎に憧憬していたと聞く、合点!

The esprit behind the ferocious energy emitted by this work is not the same as western esprit. It triggers the eastern, continental-Asian esprit that is deeply embedded in Japanese DNA. You can discover a similar aesthetic sensibility when you encounter a work by Nagasawa Rosetsu, Soga Shohaku, or Tomioka Tessai. When the curator told me that Shiraga was a fan of Tomioka Tessai, I wanted to shout, “Yes!”

 

 

PageTop

“asobi”<あそび>って一体なんでしょうか?

古来日本文化には~遊びをせんとや生れけむ、戯れせんとや生れけん、遊ぶ子供の声きけば、我が身さえこそ動がるれ~梁塵秘抄(りょうじんひしょう)や禅語「遊心」が風流=芸術の根底にあります。
西洋ではホイジンガの「ホモ・ルーデンス」という遊戯が人間活動の本質であり、文化を生み出す根源だと思想があります。
私には三人の赤ん坊を育てた臨床体験が鮮明に脳裏に刻みこまれています。乳に満ち足り、寝足りた赤ん坊の行為ですがそれはそれは好奇心に溢れています。手足で遊んだり、触れるものは何でも口に持っていったり、触覚、視覚、聴覚をフル回転して一時の休みもなく遊んでいます。ハイハイができるようになるとその好奇心は一段と高まり、その好奇心により運動能力が発達していく様に見えます。
この好奇心こそ人間の本質であり asobiではないでしょうか?

さて前書きが長くなりましたが、その狙いは私の 密やかな asobiを正当化するための方便でもあるのです。
寛仁大度な作家さま方が私の“asobi”に目くじらたてられないことを願っての、

ところで、今私が目にしている作品はかってはあなたの胎内から産み出されたものですね。安産であったか、七転八倒の難産であったかはわかりませんが産み出された作品はもう一つの独立した人格?というか画格を持った生命体として存在しているのです。
そして見る者の心に生命の輝きを点火させ、時空を超えて生命のエネルギーを放出し続けるのです。
もうそれは産みの親である作家さんの圏外の事象なのです。
感動された時、もうその人のPersonal possessionになるのですから。
感動するとは一体どういうことでしょうか?
それは見者の内にある感性が呼び覚まされる、そして共鳴することではないでしょうか。見者の未窟の鉱脈を探り当てる歓喜と奏でる協奏曲こそ至宝の asobi ではないでしょうか?

Close

Asobi

References to play abound in Japanese culture passed down over the centuries. Good examples include one of the Ryojin-hisho* songs, “We are all born to play, born to have fun. When I hear the voices of children playing, my old body still responds, wanting to join in,” and the Zen word, Yushin/Asobi-gokoro (A playful mind/Playfulness). Such references indicate that play (asobi) is one of the foundations of art and the popular arts. Similar ideas can be seen in the West, such as Johan Huizinga’s Homo Ludens (or Playing Man), which discussed the importance of play as an essential element in human activity and the origin of culture.

The experience of nursing and rearing my three children is vividly imprinted on my mind. Babies who had plenty of breast milk and sufficient sleep were absolutely brimming with curiosity. They played constantly, with their senses of touch, sight, and hearing in high gear, playing with their hands and feet, and putting anything they touched in their mouths. Once they started crawling, their curiosity went up another gear, seeming to drive the development of their physical abilities and motor skills. This curiosity is surely the essence of humanity, the manifestation of Asobi-gokoro or playful mind.

Please forgive the lengthy introduction, which largely serves to justify my own furtive play. I hope my playing will not overtax the artists’ generosity and compassion. You know, the artwork that I am now looking at has come forth from your womb. I don’t know if it was an easy delivery or an excruciatingly painful, difficult delivery, but now that it is done, the work that you gave birth to exists as a separate entity with its own independent character and its own life.

That entity sparks the fire of life in the hearts of viewers, triggering the ongoing emission of life energy that will transcend time and space. What happens is already outside the control of the artist who gave birth to it. When your art moves someone emotionally, that experience becomes his or her personal possession.

What does it mean to move someone? Surely it means stirring the viewer’s emotions and resonating inside him or her.Performing a ‘concerto’ that resounds with the joy of discovering an untouched vein of something precious inside the viewer is surely the most treasured form of play.

*Ryojin-hisho (Songs to Make the Dust Dance on the Beams): a folk song collection compiled by Cloistered Emperor Go-Shirakawa in the end of Heian period. (12th century)

Close