Page 125 - japanese and korean art Utterberg Collection Christie's March 22 2022
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ink arts comes to mind, as does the “profound mysteriousness” of   continues, moving from perceptual to existential questions. “And
          the aesthetics of yugen and the Noh theater, which Hasumura cites   when I try to know what lies beyond that world, my body melts
          as an influence.                                      and disappears into the darkness of the river.”

          But just as calligraphy and ink painting were revolutionized in the   One thinks here of the explorations of the boundary between
          1950s by nurturing commonalities with modernist abstraction,   blindness and revelation within minimalist and post-minimalist
          so Hasumura’s experiments with ink and washi might be better   art, from Ad Reinhardt’s “black paintings” to James Turrell’s light
          appreciated in dialogue with turn-of-the-century modernism’s   installations, or (once again) Sugimoto’s theater photographs, and
          interest in the graphic representation of movement. Though   the feelings of perceptual and corporeal uncertainty such works
          Hasumura’s materials are fixed, her forms are never static. Her   can induce. Yet one should also keep in mind the importance of
          ghostly forms and vibratory afterimages recall Étienne-Jules   flowing water itself within East Asian aesthetics, as both a symbol
          Marey’s chronophotographs of humans and animals in motion,   of the perpetuity of change and a specific problem of representation
          and Italian Futurism’s reinterpretation of such scientific imagery   within the visual arts, which are ostensibly grounded in the
          for more overtly aesthetic ends, as in Giacomo Balla’s famous   rendering of fixed forms. This motif has asserted itself in various
          painting, “Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash” (1912), and the   ways within contemporary art, from experimental filmmaker Paul
          dematerialized hands, limbs, and faces of Anton Giulio Bragaglia’s   Sharits
          “photodynamism.” As such, we might consider Hasumura’s
          work to be close in spirit to Hiroshi Sugimoto’s photographs of   “S:TREAM:S:S:ECTION:S:ECTION:S:S:ECTIONED” (1971) to
          illuminated movie screens from the late 1970s to the 1990s, which   Hiroshi Senju’s magnificent and eerie waterfall paintings.
          explore time, light, and movement in ways heavily influenced
          by modern technologies and cultures of spectacle as well as by   What is special about Kajioka’s work is his use of invisible but
          traditional Japanese aesthetics.                      palpable flows to reflect, not only on the limits of vision, but also
                                                                those of audition. “The chill of the night air inhales the words that
          Toshiyuki Kajioka, who studied neo-classical nihonga painting   emerge from my mouth,” he writes of his experience standing by
          in art school, reflects on the limits and affect of perception in   a river at night. “A tremendous silence rings in my ears, drowning
          more abstract terms. Kajioka’s process begins by stretching wet   out all sound.” Given the close relationship between painting and
          hemp paper over a wooden panel. He coats that surface with sumi   calligraphy in the East Asian ink arts, the ways images and words
          ink, then covers that inked surfaced with etched pencil lines.   intersect and diverge have always been a core issue. Such tensions
          Next, another layer of ink, this time a mixture of Japanese and   undergird the modernism of Yuichi Inoue and Toko Shinoda. On
          Indian inks, is applied to the surface, after which another round   the other hand, it is rare to find artists, like Kajioka, who have
          of curving and swirling pencil lines are drawn, followed by more   embraced ink to reflect on varieties of the non-visible beyond those
          detailing with ink, and so on and so forth, until, as he says, “my   related to vision, to use ink to address the ear as well as the eye.
          work becomes night itself.” While from a distance Kajioka’s   Sound and image replace the classical pairing of word and image.
          paintings look like solid black monochromes, stepping closer the
          viewer becomes enrapt with the realization that his surfaces swarm   Whereas Hasumura’s ghostly theatricality seems still linked to
          with minute articulations. His nights are not empty voids. Like an   the brush forces of calligraphy, Kajioka’s night cacophonies thus
          unsleeping child’s bedroom closet, or a wayfarer’s witching hour   break with the literati tradition of the ink arts. Because his use of
          wood, things lurk in Kajioka’s inks                   ink bears no genetic relationship to calligraphy, Kajioka is free to
                                                                access realms beyond the literate eye. The Bokujinkai challenged
          This uncanny tension between a monochrome lack of visibility   the external limits of writing; Kajioka the internal limits of the
          and a subtle infinity of tonal and formal variations relates to an   image as a purely visual phenomenon. Interested in the limits of
          experience Kajioka had as a high school student, in which he   the sensible, his work opens ink on to a new coupling between
          was struck by the strange and unnerving palpability of strained   the unheard and unseen. If Inoue’s calligraphy unconsciously
          perception while standing above a flowing river in the middle of   harbors liquid echoes (splishes and sploshes) through an emphasis
          the night. “Squinting my eyes, I can barely make out the water’s   on gesture, and Hasumura’s tissue reliefs use washi to accentuate
          surface, unable to capture any shape or detail, as the current passes   the immaterial yet tactile forces of ink environments, Kajioka’s
          before my eyes and disappears into further darkness,” he writes,   borderline non-images insist that ink is not so much silent as filled
          in a text included elsewhere in this volume. “The world I see   with non-sound. Sumi lives on by embracing its ghosts.
          remains small, no matter how many places I go. And yet, if that
          small ephemeral world were to disappear, what would remain?” he   From “SUMI: Japanese Ink Painting from Post-War to the
                                                                Present” (SEIZAN Gallery)
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