Seeing things as they really are is the essence of art
He continued to paint diligently day after day, and his skills improved considerably, but something was missing. "That's right, I don't have any talent for painting." Hiro put down his paintbrush for the time being in his fourth year of university. That was his conclusion.
Even the smell of paint is unbearable now. Thrown into the depths of despair once again, Hiro sets off for San Francisco to find solace.
The day after he arrived, he met two women at a coffee shop and agreed to live in the attic in exchange for cleaning and cooking. He's a good cook. In his free time, Hiro painted as much as he wanted. Deadlines and the opinions of others didn't matter at all. "I've never been happier in my life."
The landlord showed no interest in Hiro's work, but he still bought all of his art supplies. After three months, Hiro returned to college due to attendance issues and changed his major to art history. From then on, he studied literati painting as an art historian, and when he got a job at Evergreen State College at the age of 34, he devoted himself to nurturing his students.
When teaching art to his students, Hiro devotes most of all his efforts to helping them understand the essence of ambiguity. "It's difficult to translate into Japanese, but it's not the same as leaving something vague without any thought. Ambiguity is the exact opposite; it's something you arrive at as a result of pursuing something that doesn't have a clear answer, like in science."
This is true for both the painter and the viewer. Hiro describes it as "the work of those involved in art." Life is a series of ambiguities, and cannot be fully understood by dualism. Hiro emphasizes that finding this state interesting is a necessary mindset for learning.
"I want you to find the answer for yourself as to why you are drawn to this painting. Art reflects religion, politics, economics, and everything about the era." The painting reflects the world in which the artist lived and the artist's own humanity, and it is a task to look at yourself from that perspective through the painting. You have to grope for the answer yourself. The same can be said for the teacher.
"For example, if you tell someone that this is the answer, then everything they do will be directed towards that answer. You shouldn't look for the answer when learning something. Otherwise, there's no point in learning." In that moment, look at yourself as you are. That is the answer, and the essence of art, says Hiro.
It's probably something he can say because he used to paint. "You won't know how to express it until you paint it. It's no good if you just have it in your head. As you paint, the colors, paints, brushes and canvas will start to rebel. It's a battle between you and the art materials."
The confrontation between the painting and the viewer continues. "Why is the Mona Lisa a masterpiece?" Hiro asks the students. Hiro's view is this. Over the course of 500 years, many people have been moved by the painting, and those emotions are absorbed into the painting, becoming part of the work. The number of such people will continue to increase day by day. The Mona Lisa is still in the "process of accumulating richness," and the more it continues to be viewed, the more the masterpiece will grow in weight.
Meanwhile, Hiro, a man in his 20s, gave up on his dream of becoming a painter because he couldn't stand the criticism and gazes of others. "When I was younger, I was very critical of myself. Even after I became an academic, I was always concerned about the impact I had on others."
The days of painting in his parents' greenhouse continue to this day
Hiro, now in his 80s, is not affected by such conflicts. He draws what he likes without worrying about what others think. He also started learning botanical art a few years ago.
Hiro has loved paintings and plants his whole life. The origins of this love can be found in his childhood. "My family has been a village headman since the Edo period, so we had a greenhouse to look after the seedlings planted by our tenant farmers. When I was little, my grandmother would take me to the vast greenhouse, where I would spend all day drawing pictures." He has a vague memory of being around three years old. "As far as the eye could see, there was greenery. That's all I remember."
His paternal grandmother, Natsu, was sent to work as a maid in Hiro's grandfather's house as soon as she finished elementary school, and eventually married his grandfather, who was the heir to the family. Even after that, she continued to behave as a tenant farmer. Hiro, the youngest of four siblings, was raised by Natsu, as his mother was in poor health. It was Natsu who taught him how to make dashi and how to fillet fish.
Hiro was diagnosed with color blindness at the age of five. To treat his condition, students from the Miyazaki University Faculty of Fine Arts were employed, and he began playing with colors. He celebrated his entry into elementary school with crayons. During lunch break, instead of going to the schoolyard with the others, Hiro stayed in the classroom and drew pictures of trees, rivers, and other things with crayons on the windows. The window glass was hot in the Miyazaki sun. "The crayons would melt while I was drawing. A maid would always come running over with a razor to sharpen them up later."
When they were in sixth grade, five children, including Hiro, were selected from all over Japan for their paintings and calligraphy, and exhibitions were held in schools in Okinawa and Hong Kong before the islands were returned to Japan. Hiro also traveled to those places as a cultural envoy. This was in 1952 and 1953. Hiro, who was born in 1942, has no memories of the war.
However, his eldest brother, who was 15 years older than him, was a different story. He was a local elite and had a promising future, and went on to study at the Naval Academy in Etajima, where he trained to become a kamikaze pilot. However, the war ended just two weeks before he was to go to war, and he lost his purpose in life, which led to a difficult later life for him.
His father was also at the mercy of the war. A liberal thinker, he made critical remarks about Japanese militarism, and was exiled to Taiwan for two years, then sent to Manchuria. After the war, he was labeled as an ex-con and could not continue his business, so he had no choice but to teach calligraphy at home. Hiro's name is written as "Kazuhiro," one character each from the words for peace and philanthropy. Letters to his family in Japan were censored, but Hiro later learned that he had named him "Kazuhiro," so that the military would not know about his opposition to the war.
After the war, Hiro grew up breathing in the air of freedom. When he was young, he even lived with a woman, but when he met Bill, a banker in his mid-30s, he vowed to spend his life with him as his official partner. They were like-minded people who loved art and traveled around the world. Forty years have passed since then, and in 2021, Bill passed away after a battle with illness.
Unable to see Hiro feeling down, Bill's adult sons invite him to an online botanical art class. The abstract paintings he aimed for were based on the artist's individuality. However, botanical art must be the same no matter who paints it. Hiro's rebellious spirit gradually emerges, and he is scolded by the instructor for emphasizing shadows that do not actually exist.
"I want to pursue where my aesthetic sense comes from," he says. There seems to be a lot more he wants to do. The look in Hiro's eyes as he speaks reveals the heart of a young boy.
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Kawasaki Kazuhiro: Born in Miyazaki Prefecture in 1942. After dropping out of Kyushu University's School of Medicine and moving to Tokyo, he made a living as an illustrator for four years. He accompanied an American on a business meeting through his father's introduction, and through this connection moved to Seattle in 1965. He transferred from Shoreline Community College to the University of Washington, and although he aspired to be an oil painter, he switched to art history. He obtained his master's degree in 1972 and worked as an assistant professor at Montana State University before completing his doctoral studies in 1975. From 1976, he taught art history at Evergreen State College for about 30 years. During that time, he spent two years in Kanazawa and one year in Paris for research purposes. Since retiring in 2004, he has traveled around the world and spends his days enjoying his hobbies of cooking, art, and vegetable growing. |
*This article is reprinted from " Soy Source " (April 10, 2024).
© 2024 Keiko Miyako Schlegel
