"Ever since 'awakening to the secret of landscape' after the war, Kaii had come to a resolution and began working without any bewilderment. Work went well, his reputation grew, one after another large-scale individual exhibition was put on, books on his paintings and writings were published, and was asked to give lectures and exhibitions at art galleries. Despite being so busy, Kaii was a perfectionist who paid attention to a single speck of dirt on the picture. He was also concerned about public opinion so that his mind was constantly tense with not a momentous of rest. In those days, after a frantically busy day on the go, on his way home, he would stop by at Shoko Kawasaki's house to take a bath and enjoy a meal cooked by Shoko's wife. Relaxing for a short time there may have been the only chance he had to stretch his arms and legs and feel at rest. However, he became all the more conscious of the conflict of leading his life as an artist while being involved with the society. His worries about overcoming this grew. It was at such a time that he was approached about producing the fusuma panels for Toshodaiji. This was his greatest luck. From then on, for ten years, he turned down all other commissions and devoted himself to these fusuma panels for the temple. He continued his work concentrating on the sole point that he wished to express his gratitude to Ganjin, the priest from Tang period China who came to Japan undaunted by several unsuccessful voyages over the years to convey genuine Buddhist disciplines. This was also the period during which both Kaii's spiritual and physical vitality were replete. As an artist, he could not have been luckier." —Suzuhiko Kawasaki 川崎鈴彦 (Nihonga painter, Kaii's brother-in-law), translated by Kikuko Ogawa 小川紀久子, from the catalogue of the exhibition
The Biggest Work
It was hard for me to leave his paintings, every painting, every section, however, soon after I finished all the sections, it showed up. Into the hall, a huge mass of blue-green colour spread out in front of me. The first display of the special exhibits of this exhibition. Toshodaiji Miei-do Murals: The Sound of Waves (1975) 濤声 (昭和50年), colour on paper, sixteen fusuma panels in five units for five walls, width 1705 cm in total, displayed in the shape of the letter "L".
"The fourth opportunity for Higashiyama to paint a mural came. In the past, he had experienced painting murals for a shoin-style Japanese house designed by Junzo Yoshimura in the courtyard of the Museum of Modern Art, New York in 1954 (Showa 29), the grand hall at the Crown Prince's Residence (The Sun and the Moon in Four Seasons) in 1960 (Showa 35), and the new Imperial Palace (Dawn Tide) in 1968 (Showa 43). However, the task of painting sixty-eight panels for five rooms was phenomenal. When painting walls or fusuma, not only is the large size difficult but, unlike an ordinary painting, it is necessary to consolidate the space in each room and unify the overall image of the building as a whole. Whether because of this, it took Higashiyama more than six months after receiving the request at the end of 1970 (Showa 45) to accept the commission. The project was divided into two sessions and the work began having gone through scrupulous preparation. The first stage was completed in 1975 (Showa 50) and the second in 1980 (Showa 55)." —Masaaki Ozaki
It was quite spectacular and also a spiritual experience. A rare opportunity to experience the fusuma panels in an unusual way. When all the fusuma panels have returned home, I hope that I can see them arranged in the original places.
Everlasting Journey
"Even after completing the fusuma panels for Toshodaiji, for almost twenty years until his death, Higashiyama continued incessantly to converse with landscapes. ——
The Higashiyama style was brought about by the artist spending all his time traveling and confronting nature in solitude. That meant making his mind clear to take in the joy and sorrow breathing in nature and fix it in the form of a painting. Higashiyama says, "What changes and flows is a sign of life.""The seasonal changes in nature are symbols of the fate of everything alive on this earth.""How an artist perceives that and expresses it might be a sincere representation of that artist's mind and life."
In nihonga, particularly bunjinga(literary painting), people often say, "Read ten thousand books travel one thousand miles." However, to Higashiyama, "traveling" was slightly different from that view. It was not only an opportunity to cultivate his mind and fertilize the breeding ground for his painting. In Higashiyama's case, there seems to have been a more poignant issue concerning his life as an artist there. He once commented that he would rather spend his entire life wandering as an itinerant apprentice than becoming a master. He also described himself as homeless. A wanderer cannot join the public. A wanderer is persistently an onlooker watching from the outside, an objective other. "By placing my solitary self in nature, with my mind set free, purified, and enlivened, perhaps I want to see evidence of life that appears in the changes in nature." To Higashiyama, that was where the true significance of traveling lay.
Even after it became difficult for Higashiyama to go out as he had become aged, he must have continued traveling in his heart. Evening Star (cat. no. 87) is considered to be his last work. The initial subject matter was a park in the suburbs of Paris, but at some point or other, it became a view of an unspecified location. The artist is said to have erased the signature he had inscribed at a retain stage and to have continued retouching this painting. No doubt he wanted to continue many more journeys in his heart. For some reason, this painting overlaps with the haiku the Porto Basho Matsuo composed on his sickbed, "tabi ni yande / yume wa kareno o / kakemeguru (ill on a journey, / dreams in a withered field / wander around.)" —Masaaki Ozaki 尾崎正明 (Director, The Museum of Modern Art, Ibaraki), translated by Kikuko Ogawa, from the catalogue of the exhibition
Closing
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| A list of references |
As you can see the quotations from Higashiyama, it appears that he was good at writing. Though he was a diligent painter, he never got lazy with literary self-cultivation. His word sometimes goes to sort of spiritual, but it is not baseless nor pointless. Higashiyama left piercing words, and they seem to have helped the progress of the researches on him. Higashiyama learned German, studied in Germany, also travelled to Italy and Switzerland and France during his stay in Germany, travelled to the Nordic countries, again travelled to Germany and Austria. He may have been familiar with the other foreign languages. He must have known various viewpoints. Perhaps, that's why Higashiyama was able to avoid falling into the treacherous part of the Japanese language and think logically objectively and deepen his perception. Perhaps, that's why Higashiyama was able to accomplish the great achievements without losing himself in the turbulent times, without being a slave to the lithe subtle ambiguous language that originally used to be scripted with fine, flowing, continuous brush-lines.
There are pieces of a white horse in landscapes that Higashiyama painted during the period between Germany-Austria works and Toshodai-ji Miei-do 唐招提寺御影堂 fusuma murals. They are mysterious and poetic, and slightly different from the other Higashiyama's works. He says that there are natural motives and they are like prayers but no further explanation, and it's up to the viewer. His displayed works were all remarkable, but somehow I got intensely emotional especially in front of this one — Forest with a White Horse 白馬の森 (1972), colour on paper, 152.0 x 223.0 cm, framed. I think that the white horse represents Higashiyama's mind, it is the embodiment of the ideal of his soul. And I believe that the white horse is still wandering in forests, along rivers, around lakes, travelling all over the world, and someday I will see him.
The wind shines, a lone wanderer goes on an everlasting journey.
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