I have not posted much on Buddhist art this year, but I came across the following article on a very interesting artist that I had not previously known about.It is really a very "modern" aesthetic and is a style that matches my own personailty and what I like. This is a combination of a couple of articles on Enku in the Japan Times and elsewhere.
AFTER EVOLVING SINCE Buddhism first arrived in the 6th century, Japanese religious sculpture reached a peak of skill and artistic expression during the Kamakura period (1185–1333), but then gradually slid into a decline through subsequent centuries, becoming derivative and uninspired. Two later sculptors, Enku (1632-95) and Mokujiki (1718-1810) proved exceptions to the rule by breaking away from the standard ‘carving by numbers’, imitative approach to making religious imagery, and developing their own distinctive styles. Now, following a successful exhibition of Buddhist sculptures in 2006 when these artists’ work was displayed, the Tokyo National Museum will be showing a special exhibition of Enku's works from the Senkōji Temple and the surrounding area in present-day Gifu Prefecture, during early 2013.
Enku was born in what is present-day Gifu Prefecture and became a monk at an early age to study Mikkyo – the teachings of Esoteric Buddhism much associated with magic ritual, mysticism and various ascetic practices that were handed down from a master to whichever pupils he thought suitable. One of the central teachings of Mikkyo – at odds with those of other sects – was that by following the right path of religious practice, an adept could bypass the usual countless reincarnations and achieve enlightenment with just one lifetime. For most ordinary people this central tenet was sufficient focus for their faith, leaving the bewildering complications of esoteric teaching to temple clerics.
During Enku’s lifetime, Japan was unified under the Tokugawa shogunate whose governance was administered by a powerful bureaucracy known as the bakufu. Under central command, Christianity had been outlawed and various controls were put in place to discourage its revival. One of these was to sponsor and encourage the activities of Buddhist temples whose clerics were best placed to know what was going on in their local community. As the 18th century saw the rise of a merchant/craftsman class and a resultant booming economy, temples found themselves better funded than they had been for several hundred years and were able to restore or rebuild temples as well as commission the production of Buddhist images.
Traditional schools of sculptors descending from a Kamakura lineage supplied the great temples and the households of war-lords and the nobility, while lesser-endowed and small regional temples commissioned works from whatever craftsmen could be found locally. Buddhist images reflected the wealth and patronage of a temple, with those most elevated being able to afford statues finely-carved by master craftsmen in traditional forms, lacquered and covered in pure gold leaf and adorned with bronze or gilt accessories. This time also coincided with an increasing experimentation in Japanese arts, in particular those of painting, ceramic-making and accoutrements of the tea ceremony and the emergence of eccentricity and individuality. Enku was the first in the field of Buddhist sculpture to break away from traditional techniques, achieving widespread fame for his highly-expressive images, simply hewn with axe and chisel from single chunks of wood.
Carving statues from local timber in exchange for food and lodging, Enku traveled throughout eastern and northern Japan, including Hokkaido, climbing sacred mountains and preaching. He allegedly pledged to carve 120,000 Buddhist figures. Today there are about 5,300 works attributed to him, mostly in the Hida region of Gifu Prefecture, and in Aichi Prefecture. According to the 1790 text “Eccentrics of Recent Times,” his statues were thought to possess magical qualities and Enku himself was believed to have the power of prophesy.
Enku carved each figure from a single block of wood, in contrast to the prevailing method by which multiple blocks were carved separately before being assembled. Religious sculpture was typically finished in bright colors, but Enku’s statues were usually unpainted or given a coat of sombre gray, and no attempt was made to disguise the marks from his tools or knots in the wood. Many are starkly minimalist, with facial features indicated by only a few incisions by his chisel. Little is known about Enku’s life, but it seems that he was largely self-taught; however, his energetic yet sensitive handling of the wood, together with its natural color and texture, gives his creations vitality and warmth.
He made his sculptures for farming people, whose very existence was closely tied to seasonal weather and diseases. To secure rain, people would appeal to figures of Buddhist or local extraction, such as the Dragon King or the Senju Kannon, a bodhisattva with a thousand arms and eleven heads. Enku’s Kannon from Seihoji Temple, also in Takayama, has nine heads and 28 arms, but the deity’s principle face is compassionate and lively and was perhaps a source of comfort to the faithful.
Another intriguing work is a two-meter-tall statue of Ungyo, one of a pair of the Benevolent Kings, also known as Nio, which are usually found guarding temple gateways. Enku carved this work from a tree as it stood within the grounds of Senkoji Temple, retaining the stumps of branches on its rear surface. “Eccentrics of Recent Times” includes an illustration of Enku carving such a sculpture from a living tree while perched on a ladder.
The most visually complex piece exhibited is “Seated Ryomen Sukuna,” created late in Enku’s life. The Sukuna was a two-faced demon who, according to the “Chronicles of Japan” (compiled in 720), ruled the Hida region with an iron fist until it was conquered by Emperor Nintoku (313-399). Hida folklore, however, claims that he defeated an evil dragon and is an incarnation of Kannon with the power to grant salvation.
The statue is thought to have been commissioned by the chief priest of Senkoji Temple; the subject may have been chosen to appeal to locals for whom the Sukuna was benevolent rather than despotic. Although roughly chiseled, the expressive facial contours and details, such as fingernails and a dimpled lower lip, illustrate Enku’s command of his craft. Enku equipped the Sukuna with an axe, perhaps in deference to local descriptions, or maybe on an artistic whim.
In the years following his death, Enku was remembered more for his religious exploits than as a sculptor. Nonetheless, his deities quietly served rural Japan for generations. Gradually, religious iconography began to acquire value as objects of aesthetic appreciation. In the 1930s, Enku’s fellow sculptor-priest Mokujiki Myoman (1718-1810) was “discovered” by the Folk Crafts Movement, but it was not until the 1960s that collectors and scholars with taste and knowledge informed by Cubism and Expressionism became interested in his work.
Enku’s sculptures will appeal to visitors appreciative of the geometric forms and abstractions of modern art; however, the exhibition’s curator Asami Ryusuke urges us to remember the big differences between everyday life today and in Enku’s time.
“In the Edo period,” he explains, “many people died because they couldn’t reap a harvest, or they suffered from epidemics.”
According to Asami, people appealed to Enku’s deities “when the rain wouldn’t come, or when heavy rains wouldn’t stop, and when people were continuously getting sick and dying. They also prayed for bountiful harvests and general safety.”
Indeed, Enku’s sculptures provide a poignant account of ordinary life in premodern Japan.
He chose mainly pine wood logs if they were locally available, possibly because they are easily split lengthways with an axe into pieces with a roughly triangular cross-section. Large pieces were used for more elaborate carving while smaller fragments were carved very simply with just a few axe or chisel cuts to indicate eyes, eyebrows and mouth. Even though crude compared to the traditional, naturalistic manner of religious carving, Enku’s works appealed – and still do so – with their warmth and heart-felt sincerity. Flaws, knots, or even naturally interesting shapes, were incorporated by Enku into his works so that even though far from naturalistic, they exude an expressive honesty that no doubt touched the hearts of the faithful far more than aloof images in the great temples.
Almost none of his statues are painted or gilded, and the rustic ‘woodiness’ plus the rough hatchet-marks of his technique hint at the poverty of rural life during pre-modern times. Apart from a few guardian deities, whose fang-in-cheek grimaces frighten no-one, the most noticeable characteristic of his statues is a soft, benevolent smile that surely comforted all who saw them, especially the troubled and dying to whom he gave many of his smaller pieces.
Enku spent some time during his later life at Senkōji temple where he carved over 60 statues. Most of these will be on show at the Tokyo National Museum from the 12th January to the 14th April together with other locally sourced works, some of which are inscribed with the names of mountains climbed by Enku on his travels and pilgrimages.
Links:
Komentar
Posting Komentar