"Shinabazu Pond in Snow" by Unichi Hiratsuka

I could stand here a long time. There are a thousand tiny ripples in this standing pond, a thousand soft symphonies in this moment of silence.

"Sea of Japan" by Junichiro Sekino and "Georgetown Locks of C&O Canal" by Unichi Hiratsuka

I happened to be looking at both of these woodcuts this week, and thus came to contemplate the similarities. Both feature a composition with thick, diagonal bands that come in from both sides and meet in the center. What first grabbed my interest in both was these diagonal bands. They pull the viewer's gaze in, giving each scene a sense of gravity.

In Sekino's image, the bands fall below the center and the event taking place is violent, churning waters. The calamity of the rolling and spitting waves is further emphasized in comparison to the stillness in front of the bands and in the black part of the sea seen in the distant horizon. The bands themselves curve, bending to the water's fury. The diagonal lines do not connect, but rather, they slip past one another, leaving more space to accommodate their own movements with the angry sea. The rendering is delicate and the changes in layers of color is subtle, giving the whole scene a thoughtful air, despite the tumultuous subject.

In Hiratsuka's more stoic, yet equally bold image, the diagonal bands are solid black, straight, and connect with each other just above the center. Instead of acquiescing to an torrid sea, here, unbending planks direct the river. The waters held back are calm and airy, like skinny clouds, before they discharge under the barrier, strained into a neatly contained waterfall.

In both works, the bands depict something man-made, intended to in some way control or mitigate our interaction with a body of water. I come away from both contemplating power, predictability, and the balance between deference and restraint.

Comparing two nudes by Unichi Hiratsuka

Since discovering this wonderful artist at the start of last summer, I've written about Unichi Hiratsuka's landscapes, one color, natural one, and one black and white, urban one. At we end this summer, it seems about the right time to take a look at a couple of his figures. As with the two landscapes I wrote about before, I feel these two by comparison really show the range of the artist's interests and skills.

In this first, color print, I feel the model is particularly aware of the artist (and indirectly, the audience's) gaze. Though she leans back in the chair, she holds her legs together, her arms against her chest. He muscles tighten and she seems uncomfortable. I can feel her holding the pose, waiting for the moment to pass. She stares straight ahead with an expression so blank she appears more like a doll than a person, or just someone wearing a mask. The bright, garishly contrasting colors add to the plastic qualities of the image. The screaming yellow wall, unnatural green floor, they draw further attention to this awkward, self-conscious woman, and get us to stare at her longer, wondering at what thoughts are behind her mask.

This second nude has an altogether different feel. Again, I feel as if the model is aware of our gaze, but this time she wears an impish grin as she coyly looks down, her long hair swishing around the curve of her cheek and neck. I am convinced that if she locked eyes with the artist, she'd smile. Instead of holding completely still, she seems ready to move at any moment, to either climb down, or lean back, or just to breath as she patiently waits for the artist to finish capturing an image of her.  There is a mask here, too, but it is mounted on the wall behind her, and monstrously grins, bearing huge teeth. The tiles and other framing her body remind me of layered drum beats. Her heart thumps, blood courses through her veins...

"The Library of Congress" by Unichi Hiratsuka

Opportunities

sometimes while walking
there are moments when
all the structures, both
man-made and natural
come together to form a
truly elegant composition
pregnant with meaning
begging for attention and
interpretation

it is important not only to
notice these moments, but also
to take pause

One of Unichi Hiratsuka's color landscapes

While teaching at an art camp this summer, a fellow teaching artist showed me a book about Unichi Hiratsuka, a contemporary Japanese woodblock artist who lived in the States for nearly half his life and died in 1997. Here is a link to a website created by his grandchildren and which provides many more images of his work and information about his prolific and notable career. I think this image, with the playful color and simplified geometry used to describe the landscape, shows how Hiratsuka masterfully merged traditional Japanese and modern Western art influences.

The top of a pink mountain peeks over the edge to spy on the river. Swaths of autumn trees and evergreens partially obscure the mountaintop's view. But it can be seen that the river is calm and clear. The surface jiggles and sways a bit as it works around rocks and bends in its natural flow toward the someday sea.