How to begin this post, I wonder, after such a long break. I am thinking about all those summer distractions, and feel I should say I am sorry for not posting anything new here for so long. I am truly sorry.
Life happens; emotions build then vanish, like the ebb and flow of tides. Sometimes in the calm of the evening, when the water looks like glass, with all those wonderful hues of purple and pink and soft light blue, all I need is right there in front of me. Then the mood is so quiet that perhaps the inspiration to write has just left me, vanished on the outgoing tide. Am I empty of the energy to express what I feel or am I unable to feel?
I certainly wish I could attribute the above to some famous writer, but, nope, sorry, just me waxing introspective, trying to rationalize being lazy about writing. Actually, it has been partly that and partly how to write about this artist that has puzzled me. Usually, as I go to sleep at night or I drive around on errands, I compose my posts, sometimes word for word. No problem. But since I am not an art critic, just one who appreciates and loves some art more than others, I need to write carefully. I feel a responsibility to relate what Tanaka Isson made me feel, and try to have you feel it, too. It is not just about his art; I want you to feel the nature of Tanaka Isson.
Probably it was the time and the place, the state I was in emotionally and physically, that made what this wonderful artist painted come alive for me. I felt every palette of color that he created, on silk or on paper board, water colors or mixed colors Nihonga style. There in front of me was that beautiful paradise where he lived, Amami Oshima. It was like a mathematical equation, only it was art. Tanaka felt the nature of Amami Oshima, I felt the nature of Amami Oshima. Therefore, I felt the nature of Tanaka Isson. He had the gift, the will to paint, but we shared the passion.
I went there once, you know, to Amami Oshima. I have a friend, Brigid, who lived there and worked as an ALT in several schools on the island. What a romantic life she must have led, an island where sugar cane grew, with coral reefs and so many fishes, mountains with jungles and colorful birds, and the beat of taiko drums.
Brigid studied two traditional Japanese instruments there on Amami Ohima. The koto, a 13 stringed instrument about 6 feet long, is played by kneeling in front of it. She also played taiko drums. These are the drums played with thick, long drum sticks, and as the speeds increase, the drummer jumps and moves, and your own heart beat increases until you feel the intense energy the drummer feels. Brigid could actually do that, and I envied her her talent, hard work and her very full life there on the island, with many friends and activities. I felt lucky to have been able to share it with her on that short visit.
Yes, Japan was the magical place that allowed me to explore a lot of new places, and myself as well. It was an exotic place where taiko drums made my heart beat, where the clouds mirrored themselves on the water, and where the flowers seemed to speak to me, to lead me down every new path and turn to explore and seek new wonders. And no place was more magical than Amami Oshima, no artist more magical to me than Tanaka Isson.
It's been 20 years now since I discovered this artist. And the thing is, I discovered him after I visited Amami Oshima. I fell in love with the colors and the nature on the island first, with a single visit. It was tropical and windswept from a typhoon when I arrived.
Since I went by ferry, a very long, rough 12 hour overnight trip heading due south, I arrived with a migraine and was weak from being seasick, terribly seasick. But, hey, when you get motion sickness often, you learn to cope. So, after a few hours of settling in and getting hydrated, Brigid got me out and about and we went to her taiko lesson. It was great, and we were surrounded by her really good friends on the island. Of course, afterward we went out with all of them to eat, drink, talk, laugh and be merry. I was immersed in the energy and spirit of the taiko drums, the palm trees and sounds of the island, and the slightly humid air and salt water breezes.
The next day Brigid had to work so I explored the town of Naze on my own. I visited the very famous Tsumugi silk factory, some other shops, and a beautiful sand beach. I indulged in freshly steamed mussels, sitting under a palm tree, watching the waves roll in.
Later a friend of Brigid's took me on a tour of the Kinsakubaru Forest, a mountainous jungle like I had never seen before. Although I didn't sight any tropical birds, I certainly tried. I wanted to see that ruddy kingfisher. Perhaps they were still taking cover after the typhoon. But the colors of the leaves and trees and flowers in the park and all over the island were like an aphrodisiac for the soul.
When I got back on the ferry to return to Kagoshima, I had a wonderful surprise. Brigid's taiko group was going to be on the same ferry, going to a matsuri on the mainland. They quickly pulled me onto their blanketed area of tatami mats, and shared their obento (lunches). As night fell we all spread out to sleep on the mats until our morning arrival. The seas were calmer, and I was in good company though still a little seasick. Nevertheless, I left with many good memories tucked away not only in my mind but also in my heart.
When I was telling a teacher at my high school about my visit, he pointed out the work of Tanaka Isson. The teacher loved nature as well, and had lived and taught on Amami Oshima. He was a real admirer of this artist now famous for his connection to the island The teacher was happy to share the information he knew.
Eventually, I would find articles in my English newspaper about Tanaka Isson. Some of his paintings were on exhibit in Tokyo, and I could read the article in the English newspaper. Finally, they came to be exhibited in the city of Kagoshima where I could go and see them in person.
Though I had not yet seen Tanaka Isson's art, I had seen the colors of the island and the rest of my senses allowed me to feel the island somewhere deep in my soul. And so, when I did, in fact, see some of Tanaka's work, I was immediately at one with it. He painted what I had felt - magic!
The teacher had recounted to me a bit of the story of Tanaka Isson. Through further reading I found he was the son of a sculptor, all set for fame and riches as an artist in Tokyo in the early 1900's. He had to leave his painting studies due either to his father's death and loss of income and/or his own illness from tuberculosis. He managed to survive the illness and WWII, scraping by but still trying to paint outside of Tokyo. When some of his art was rejected after submission for exhibit in 1947, he imposed a self exile from the Tokyo art world.
After working various jobs to meet his basic needs on the outskirts of Tokyo, Tanaka Isson walked away from all of it in 1958, and somehow chose the beautiful island of Amami Oshima for his escape. He made the move when he was 50 years old.
On the small island in post-war Japan, he had to provide for his own needs to survive. He acquired a humble laborer's job dying silk in pools of mud in a most famous silk business on the island. In fact, it was the same silk factory I visited there in 1995, the Tsumugi Silk Factory. He lived in a very simple wooden home and had a garden where he grew his own food.
But he was surrounded by the beauty and a timeless peace that allowed him his greatest luxury. He found time to paint: flowers, leaves, trees, water, fruit, fishes, birds. He painted whenever he was not working. He painted whatever he wanted to paint, for himself to admire. He lived in anonymity, without fame or art exhibits or prizes for his work. I admired the artist who chose his own path, to be his own man and his own artist.
Brilliant colors were painted with a contemporary flair, detailed yet simple, and always fluid. Tanaka Isson lived his only passion. He primarily practiced two techniques. To paint on silk he used Nihonga style paints, colors he mixed himself by crushing certain mineral tablets, or seashells and mixing them to the hue he wanted. The powders or granules were mixed with glue made from animals and water. He also used water colors on paper board. The special paper techniques allow this
type of painting to last for a hundred years or more without glass
frames. (Hence, you see many pieces of Asian art displayed on paper scrolls.) He made hundreds of paintings.
Tananka Isson died in 1977 at the age of 69. He had never married. His paintings were found after his death and a TV documentary in 1984 finally brought him to the public light. The documentary compared his work to Paul Gauguin. I would also compare him to Georgia O'Keefe. In 2001, Amami Oshima opened the Tanaka Isson Memorial Museum of Art, giving the artist his due.
My intention in writing this was also to give him his due. I wrote that we shared a passion for nature. In researching this, light research, I might add, but still looking through the wonderful book I bought from the art exhibit, over 100 pages filled with his work and Japanese writing that I don't understand, I came across yet another intrigue of this passionate man. He named his series of exotic flora Amami no Yashiro.
Herein lies the last difficulty. There's no easy translation, because Yashiro can mean forest, or Shinto shrine. Often Japanese shrines are located in places of great natural beauty, i.e. sacred places. I feel again closer to the artist; we are still kindred souls. Because I feel he saw in every green leaf, each palm frond, blossom or butterfly's wing, the presence of God. The artist had truly found his sanctuary in Amami Oshima.
[Thanks, always, to Takehiro Iwakawa and Toshiro Nakamura, for helping with translations! Also, to the Tanaka Isson art book, originally published to accompany the eleven city art exhibits throughout Japan in 1995.]
(To learn more about Tsumugi Silk check out this blog posting:
http://kagoshimakato.blogspot.com/2014/10/amami-oshima-part-iii-oshima-tsumugi.html There are wonderful photos along with explanations of the lengthy process.)
Life happens; emotions build then vanish, like the ebb and flow of tides. Sometimes in the calm of the evening, when the water looks like glass, with all those wonderful hues of purple and pink and soft light blue, all I need is right there in front of me. Then the mood is so quiet that perhaps the inspiration to write has just left me, vanished on the outgoing tide. Am I empty of the energy to express what I feel or am I unable to feel?
I certainly wish I could attribute the above to some famous writer, but, nope, sorry, just me waxing introspective, trying to rationalize being lazy about writing. Actually, it has been partly that and partly how to write about this artist that has puzzled me. Usually, as I go to sleep at night or I drive around on errands, I compose my posts, sometimes word for word. No problem. But since I am not an art critic, just one who appreciates and loves some art more than others, I need to write carefully. I feel a responsibility to relate what Tanaka Isson made me feel, and try to have you feel it, too. It is not just about his art; I want you to feel the nature of Tanaka Isson.
Probably it was the time and the place, the state I was in emotionally and physically, that made what this wonderful artist painted come alive for me. I felt every palette of color that he created, on silk or on paper board, water colors or mixed colors Nihonga style. There in front of me was that beautiful paradise where he lived, Amami Oshima. It was like a mathematical equation, only it was art. Tanaka felt the nature of Amami Oshima, I felt the nature of Amami Oshima. Therefore, I felt the nature of Tanaka Isson. He had the gift, the will to paint, but we shared the passion.
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| I had never seen this flower we call angel trumpet, but I loved it on sight. My photo illustrates my enchantment with what I saw and below is what the artist painted. |
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| Titled Datura to Akashobin (Angel trumpet and ruddy kingfisher) Nihonga paint on silk 61"x24" |
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| Enlarged detail |
Yes, Japan was the magical place that allowed me to explore a lot of new places, and myself as well. It was an exotic place where taiko drums made my heart beat, where the clouds mirrored themselves on the water, and where the flowers seemed to speak to me, to lead me down every new path and turn to explore and seek new wonders. And no place was more magical than Amami Oshima, no artist more magical to me than Tanaka Isson.
It's been 20 years now since I discovered this artist. And the thing is, I discovered him after I visited Amami Oshima. I fell in love with the colors and the nature on the island first, with a single visit. It was tropical and windswept from a typhoon when I arrived.
Since I went by ferry, a very long, rough 12 hour overnight trip heading due south, I arrived with a migraine and was weak from being seasick, terribly seasick. But, hey, when you get motion sickness often, you learn to cope. So, after a few hours of settling in and getting hydrated, Brigid got me out and about and we went to her taiko lesson. It was great, and we were surrounded by her really good friends on the island. Of course, afterward we went out with all of them to eat, drink, talk, laugh and be merry. I was immersed in the energy and spirit of the taiko drums, the palm trees and sounds of the island, and the slightly humid air and salt water breezes.
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| Perhaps I sat on the same beach Tanaka Isson painted. "Yageshinoki" Nihonga paint on silk 62"x29" |
The next day Brigid had to work so I explored the town of Naze on my own. I visited the very famous Tsumugi silk factory, some other shops, and a beautiful sand beach. I indulged in freshly steamed mussels, sitting under a palm tree, watching the waves roll in.
 |
| The salesman suggested a colorful kimono in beautiful tsumugi silk that he knew I would like because it matched the colors of my shirt. |
When I got back on the ferry to return to Kagoshima, I had a wonderful surprise. Brigid's taiko group was going to be on the same ferry, going to a matsuri on the mainland. They quickly pulled me onto their blanketed area of tatami mats, and shared their obento (lunches). As night fell we all spread out to sleep on the mats until our morning arrival. The seas were calmer, and I was in good company though still a little seasick. Nevertheless, I left with many good memories tucked away not only in my mind but also in my heart.
When I was telling a teacher at my high school about my visit, he pointed out the work of Tanaka Isson. The teacher loved nature as well, and had lived and taught on Amami Oshima. He was a real admirer of this artist now famous for his connection to the island The teacher was happy to share the information he knew.
 | ||
| The flyer advertising the Tanaka Isson Art Exhibit coming to the Yamakateya department store in Kagoshima. The exhibit was in October, 1995. This is from a painting called Amami no Yashiro #6, a series he painted of various exotic plants. |
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| Amami no Yashiro #6 as copied from my book on Tanaka Isson |
Though I had not yet seen Tanaka Isson's art, I had seen the colors of the island and the rest of my senses allowed me to feel the island somewhere deep in my soul. And so, when I did, in fact, see some of Tanaka's work, I was immediately at one with it. He painted what I had felt - magic!
The teacher had recounted to me a bit of the story of Tanaka Isson. Through further reading I found he was the son of a sculptor, all set for fame and riches as an artist in Tokyo in the early 1900's. He had to leave his painting studies due either to his father's death and loss of income and/or his own illness from tuberculosis. He managed to survive the illness and WWII, scraping by but still trying to paint outside of Tokyo. When some of his art was rejected after submission for exhibit in 1947, he imposed a self exile from the Tokyo art world.
After working various jobs to meet his basic needs on the outskirts of Tokyo, Tanaka Isson walked away from all of it in 1958, and somehow chose the beautiful island of Amami Oshima for his escape. He made the move when he was 50 years old.
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| The artist, TANAKA ISSON, 1908-1977, on his beloved Amami Oshima. |
But he was surrounded by the beauty and a timeless peace that allowed him his greatest luxury. He found time to paint: flowers, leaves, trees, water, fruit, fishes, birds. He painted whenever he was not working. He painted whatever he wanted to paint, for himself to admire. He lived in anonymity, without fame or art exhibits or prizes for his work. I admired the artist who chose his own path, to be his own man and his own artist.
 |
| cAmami no Yashiro No. 8, No. 1 and No. 10 in a series, Nihonga paint on silk, each about 61"by 29" |
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| Amami no Yashiro No. 8 enlarged detail |
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| Artist's lobster drawing |
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| Nindo ni Onaga birds on tree limb, Nihonga paint on silk 54"x16" |
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| Detail from above painting |
My intention in writing this was also to give him his due. I wrote that we shared a passion for nature. In researching this, light research, I might add, but still looking through the wonderful book I bought from the art exhibit, over 100 pages filled with his work and Japanese writing that I don't understand, I came across yet another intrigue of this passionate man. He named his series of exotic flora Amami no Yashiro.
Herein lies the last difficulty. There's no easy translation, because Yashiro can mean forest, or Shinto shrine. Often Japanese shrines are located in places of great natural beauty, i.e. sacred places. I feel again closer to the artist; we are still kindred souls. Because I feel he saw in every green leaf, each palm frond, blossom or butterfly's wing, the presence of God. The artist had truly found his sanctuary in Amami Oshima.
[Thanks, always, to Takehiro Iwakawa and Toshiro Nakamura, for helping with translations! Also, to the Tanaka Isson art book, originally published to accompany the eleven city art exhibits throughout Japan in 1995.]
(To learn more about Tsumugi Silk check out this blog posting:
http://kagoshimakato.blogspot.com/2014/10/amami-oshima-part-iii-oshima-tsumugi.html There are wonderful photos along with explanations of the lengthy process.)
