An English Artist’s Experiences in Japan.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 860, 24 August 1888, Page 10

An English Artist’s Experiences in Japan.

Mortimer Menfes, in the 4 Magazine of Art. 5 At the present time the Japanese are struggling to adopt all sorts of Western ideas, and what we call civilisation. They want to apply our legal codes, to wear our clothes, to study our sciences ; they hunger for the telephone, for ironclads, and suchlike toys, and, besides all this, they want what concerns me more nearly as a painter —to introduce English and foreign schoolteachers and professors into their schools of art. There was one such teacher at Kioto ; he was, I think, an Italian. He taught his pupils to paint as the British paint—he taught them, in fact, picture manufacturing. But the g Japanese, as a rale, have never taken kindly to the trade. . . . The great painters of Japan, of course, remained altogether uninfluenced by this introduction of European art, and, moreover, they ridiculed it. I was privileged to come in contact with some of the best painters in Japan—with one master in particular, of whom I propose to speak in this paper. To Khiosi, one of the greatest Japanese painters of the day, I was introduced at the house of Captain Brinkley, whose recent paper on Japan has been read with so much interest by all Niphonists. . . . Khiosi, I may say, is known all over Japan, from the highest noble even to the lowest ragged child in the streets ; all know the artist, and love his work, for the . pictures of a popular painter get abroad in J apan much as they get abroad here —Khiosi’s pictures and sketches being reproduced and published in the Japanese papers just as they would be published in Western magazines. When any drawing by Khiosi appears a rush is made for thfe paper. These drawings of his are really Buperb work, and I could not belt) feeling how great a privilege it was to come into contact with snch _ a man. I arrived at my host’s quite early in the morning, for I was to have a whole day with my Japanese fellow-worker. I was introduced at once to an old man, grave and very dignified in bearing, and I found it difficult atfirst to realise that this was the painter of whom I had heard so much. He was sitting on the floor, smoking, while his assistant was busy stretching silk and preparing colours, . . • No sooner was I introduced than his face seemed to light up, his eyes became intensely brilliant, and his conversation not less so. He was enthusiastic in his desire to learn about English painters and English art generally, and eager to tell me his own views of art, and all he felt about it. To my pleased confusion he seemed to regard me with an interest equalling mine for him. He put many questions about English art, and told me much that was interesting about bis own. He spoke of the effect made on him by some English pictures. 4 1 have seen a number of- English and European pictures, 5 he said, ‘ but they all appear to me very much alike. I hear that in England and all over Europe they say the Japanese pictures look to them all alike. Why is this ?’ The explanation was not immediately forthcoming, for at first sight it seemed so extraordinary that to this man 4 English pictures look all alike. 5 But immediately the truth forced itself upon me, as it will upon the reader. European pictures are all wonderfully alike. It struck me that when, not long before, I was on a 4 hanging committee, 5 and had passing before me several thousand pictures, it was only here and there that my attention was arrested by the individuality of some of the work. For the most part, however, they were the same pigments, the same high lights, and the same deep shadows ; and mentally seeing this procession of pictures pass onoe more before me I could not avoid seeing how grievously alike European pictures were. . . . 4 In my own practice I look at the bird ; I want to paint him as he is. He has got a pose. Good ! Then he suddenly puts down his head, and there is another pose. The bare fact oE the bird being there in an altered pose would compel me to alter my idea'; and so on, until at last I could paint nothing at all, 5 T asked him what,

then, was his method. 4 I watch my bird, he replied, 4 and the particular pose I wish to copy before I attempt to reDresent it. I observe that very closely until he moves and the attitude is altered. Then Igo away aud record as much ;of that particular pose as 1 can remember. Perhaps I may be able to put down only three or four lines ; but direjtly I have lost the impression I stop. Then I go back again and study that bird until it takes the same position as before. Aud then I again try and retain as much as I can of it. In this way I began by spending a whole day in the garden, watching a bird and its particular attitude, and in the end 1 have remembered the pose so well by continually trying to represent it that I am able to repeat it entirely from my impression—but not from tlie bird. It is a hindrance to have the model before me when I have a mental note of the pose. What I do is a painting from memory, and it is a true impression. I lftwe filled hundreds of sketchbooks, 5 he continued, ‘of different sorts of birds and fishes and other things, and have at last got a facility and have trained my memory to such an extent that by observing the rapid action of a bird I can nearly always retain and reproduce it. By a lifelong training I have made my memory so keen that I think I may say I can reproduce anything I have once seen. 5 , . . The techniquo of Ivliiosi’s work was most fascinating. I had come away from England with all sorts of theories concerning the technical part of an artist’s work, and when I got to Japan I found there was absolutely nothing that was not known by that man. This fact is as remarkable as it is truo. His method of work, too, interested me exceedingly. To begin with, the assistant brought his stretcher of silk—a lovely piece of silk stretched across a wooden frame —and placed it in front of him. Then, taking a long burnt twig, he thought for a few minutes, lookiog all the while at his silk—thought out his picture, indeed, before he put a single touch on the canvas. How different is this from the man who so' often puts on a lot of hasty touches in the hope that they will suggest the picture ! When this Japanese saw his picture completed in his mind he began with the little burnt twig to trace a few sure lines. I never saw such facility in my life. A few swift strokes indicating the outline on the silk of two Hack crows, then he took up his brush, and began at once with the Indian ink, with full powerful colour, and in about seven minutes he had completed a picture, superbly drawn and full of character - a complete impression of two black crows, very nearly life-size, resting on the branch of a tree. . . . After he had done his crows he painted a coloured picture, beginning with Indian ink. First of all he tried all his colours, which were ready prepared in different little blue pots and placed all around him. These little shallow pots or saucers had each its own liquid, which the assistant had prepared to a certain extent beforehand. They contained flesh tint, drapery colour, tones for hair, gold, ornaments, and so forth. These colours had evidently been used before, as they were in their saucers merely requiring dilution before immediate use. The saucers were arranged chiefly on his right, with a great vessel of water, of which he used a great deal. All his utensils were scrupulously clean. When he began there was no fishing for tones, as on the average palette. No accident ! All was sure —a scientific certainty from the beginning to the end. The picture was the portrait of a woman. . . . Here is his idea of finish : Once the impression of the detail and the finish of the object is recorded you can do nothing better ; so far as the painter’s impression of finish goes so far must the rendering go, and no farther Artistically he had become exhausted by doing these four pictures—in invention I mean. You could see that the man was heart and soul in theiwork. He lives, poor fellow, on almost nothing. Ho is a very independent man, refusing to work for money, and declining to paint for the market. And such was my interview with Khiosi, the master of Japan.