Color in the Snow

         Snow naturally lends itself to black and white (or possibly grey and white), and yet here are three artists who have used full color to depict their snowy scenes.

        First, last night’s snowstorm as illustrated in 1946 by Kawase Hasui (Japan, 1883-1957).  I’ve featured block prints by Hasui before, including an island (my favorite), some fruit, and another snow scene.  In this one I particularly love the lighted windows in the dusk, something I absolutely never tire of seeing in either real life or art.  As for the snow, one thing that’s interesting is that it’s not just white but a range of greys and blues, some really quite dark.  Even though we tend to think of snow and snowflakes as being white, it’s much more realistic for them to look grey under some circumstances, such as when they’re blocking the light from a lighter area.

        Next I have an urban scene by George G. Adomeit (Lithuania/USA, 1879-1967).  I love that the car places us in 1933, and Adomeit has used browns and warm greys which reinforces that sepia-toned sense of a vintage scene, even though I assume he had no such perspective at the time.  One of the most interesting things about this print is the use of textured paper.  In general textured paper is considered a problem because it prevents the block from printing cleanly, but in this case it works really well with the picture.  I also really like the way the broken fence in the foreground frames the scene both visually and from a storytelling perspective.

        And for a final piece I’ve got the majestic vista of a snowy landscape that dwarfs the human buildings, by Nina Sage (UK).  The buildings are warm browns against the huge cool grey and blue expanse of snow and ice.  I particularly like the way the lake (or fjord?) is depicted.  I previously shared a nuthatch by Sage.

        All three of these look to be multi-block prints with at least four colors, and certainly more for some.  Now, sometimes I feel like extra layers in block prints are unnecessary and gratuitous, complicating something that is remarkable precisely because of its simplicity - but in the case of these three pieces I do really like the subtle layers of detail that the extra colors add.

        And now I’ll soon have to stop admiring snow in art and go out to shovel snow in real life!

[Pictures: Snowstorm at Shiobara, color woodcut by Kawase Hasui, 1946 (Image from The Cleveland Museum of Art);

Back of Houses in Snow, color woodcut by George G. Adomeit, 1933 (Image from The Cleveland Museum of Art);

The Boathouse, linocut by Nina Sage (Image from VK Gallery).]

Autumnal Block Prints

         It’s time for another collection of autumnal relief block prints, and as usual, views of autumn have to emphasize color.  First up is a piece by one of my favorites, Herschel C. Logan.  It’s quite small and simple, but includes three colors: dark brown, beige, and orange.  Typical of Logan’s work, its focus is on a rural homestead, but no people in sight.  (You can revisit more work by Logan here.)

        The next piece is by an artist who’s new to me, and it’s much more complex.  Nick Wroblewski works in the Japanese woodblock style, and often includes animals in his landscapes.  This one has wonderful details in the foreground, but is also wonderfully less detailed in the background, with its warm, muted autumn colors.  The beavers are delightful, but so are the 

details of the sticks and bark, and the gnawing-marks on the felled trunk.

        Also in the Japanese style, here’s a piece by Kawase Hasui (an artist you can search in the sidebar to see a few more pieces.)  The title is “Late Autumn in Ichikawa,” and I think it does somehow manage to capture that feeling of incoming winter chill in the air, despite the warm colors of the dried grasses.  Again, the grasses in the foreground show every blade, but then fade to a blur and the silhouettes of trees in the background.  (I definitely need to work on that transition from foreground to background in my own work!)

        As a contrast from these relatively predictable landscapes, here’s an unusual view by William Hays.  This one is a reduction linoleum block print with 6 colors.  It’s very impressive, and I’d love to be able to see it in person and get a sense for the ink on the 

paper.  On the computer screen it’s almost too good, because it reads more like a photograph with the “posterize” filter than like a hand carved block print.  It certainly does invite you to jump in the leaf pile, though!

        Finally, I had to include this wood block print by Kari Percival, because what is this season without pies?  This fun piece celebrates the sharing of good food and company.  (And see my prior post on Percival here.)

        I’m certainly very grateful for my own home and family, as well as for the land I’m lucky enough to live on, sharing it with its 

beautiful trees and animals.

[Pictures: Autumn, color woodcut by Herschel C. Logan, 1924 (Image from Marianna Kistler Beach Museum of Art);

Sturdy Branches, Leafy Tops, woodcut by Nick Wroblewski (Image from NickWroblewski.com);

Late Autumn in Ichikawa, color woodblock print by Kawase Hasui, 1930 (Image from The Clark Museum);

Equinox, linocut print by William Hays (Image from artful home);

Pies, wood block print by Kari Percival (Image from KariPercival.com).]

Japanese "Modern" Printmaking

         The Japanese ukiyo-e printmaking of the 17-19th centuries gave way in the twentieth century to two new printmaking movements in Japan.  One was shin-hanga, which aimed to continue the traditions of ukiyo-e into modern times.  The traditional methods were preserved, with art design, woodblock carving, and printing each done by different artisans, with the creative force often coming from the publisher as well as the artist who drew the designs.  The images also tended to evoke nostalgia with traditional views.  On the other hand, these artists incorporated elements of Western art into their work, as well as depicting some more modern views and details in order to update the traditional woodblock print.

        The other 20th-century movement was sosaku-hanga, which was a reaction to the traditional methods of ukiyo-e.  It emphasized the single artist drawing, carving, and printing his (or her, but usually his) creative vision.  It was inspired by Western ideas of solitary artists, as well as by Japanese folk-art traditions.  Block prints from this movement have much more in common with Western ideas of “modern art,” with experimentation, expressionism, spontaneity, and a movement away from traditional conventions of realism.  This movement really took off after World War II.

        Hokusai and Hiroshige are among the most famous ukiyo-e artists, and I’ve linked their names to previous posts featuring their work, plus more here and here.

        Hasui is probably my favorite artist working within the shin-hanga movement and you can see some of his work here, here, and here, but I’ve included today an evocative city street scene by Yoshida Hiroshi.  He was trained in Western oil painting as well as Japanese printmaking, and had a shrewd eye toward how to blend the two for maximum appeal.  There are electric lights and some influences of Western dress, as well as Western one-point perspective, in an image that nevertheless clearly follows in the traditions of ukiyo-e depictions of urban life.  (And another post with Hiroshi here.)

        Today I give you two examples from the sosaku-hanga movement, at the top and bottom of this post.  You can see that both look more “modern” than the shin-hanga piece in the middle.  The last piece, by Shima Tamami, does one of my favorite things: 

using the grain of the wood as part of the picture.  The bare tree trunks are stylized, and the tree texture on the hill in the background is very rough and almost abstract.  Meanwhile, the first piece, by Kasamatsu Shiro, experiments with depicting trees in a different way.  The yellow leaves are actually negative space, showing through beneath the areas that are carved away from the green which forms both the foreground trunks and the fade-away into the distant mountainside.  This is a very different method from traditional Japanese printmaking, in which the shape and color of the trees would have been printed with its own block, and I really like how the negative space works in this.

        In addition, I’ve done previous posts on sosaku-hanga artists Hiratsuka, Munakata, and Saito if you want to see more examples.

[Pictures: Shadow of a Mountain, color woodblock print by Kasamatsu Shiro, 1959;

Kagurazaka Street after Night Rain, color woodblock print by Yoshida Hiroshi, 1929;

A Stand of Trees, color woodblock print by Shima Tamami, 1959 (All images from The Clark Museum).]

Another Snow Day!

        Another winter storm and another chance to share some wintry relief block prints.  This first one, by Wharton Esherick (U.S.A., 1887-1970), is really a holiday card entitled “December Snows.”  Well, around here we can’t be sure of a white Christmas and most of our snow tends to come January or later, so this is certainly looking more like the current scene outside my window than December.  The trees are loaded down and everything is indistinct with falling flakes.  I love the texture of this piece, with the dots of the snowflakes and the scratches and lines going every which way for the movement of blowing, falling, swirling snow.  Esherick has managed to convey so much with such a deceptively simple piece.

        The storm continues with a piece by Hasui Kawase (Japan, 1883-1957), who was famous for his views of Japan.  I find the rich blue of the canal a bit implausible, but it certainly gives the print a touch of color.  There’s no one to be seen, but the golden light in the windows implies people hunkered down, cozy inside as we are today.  Again, I like the sweep of flakes.  This time instead of lines to indicate movement, it’s masterfully done with streaks composed of larger, denser  white gouges.

        Hasui’s color woodblock print is made in the Japanese method, while this one by Paul Leschhorn (Alsace, 1876-1951) is done in the European style of one color per block.  This view is far more serene than what I’m seeing now, although perhaps this is what the world will look like tomorrow.  Certainly Leschhorn has captured the weight of the snow coating every branch and twig.  I love how this piece uses multiple shades and hues of grey to evoke a scene and feeling that would have been impossible for black and white.

        The first three artists are all roughly contemporaries of one another, but for a little historical perspective, I also have a piece by an anonymous artist depicting the Great Snow of 1717.  Back to back to back storms in February and March left five feet of snow and drifts as high as 25 feet throughout New England.  Entire single-story houses were covered, which this little image doesn’t do justice to with snow only up to the man’s thighs.  Thank goodness we’re not dealing with that, but I nevertheless feel that Whittier describes a blizzard wonderfully: “The whited air hides the hills and woods, the river and the heaven, and veils the farmhouse…the housemates sit… enclosed, in a tumultuous privacy of storm.”  Actually, it isn’t so blustery for us right at the moment, and at some point we’ll go out and start shovelling, but for now it’s nice to be enclosed in white.

[Pictures: Christmas Snows, woodcut by Wharton Esherick, 1923 (Image from Wharton Esherick Museum);

Twenty Views of Tokyo: Ochanomizu, color wood block print by Kawase Hasui, 1926 (Image from Scholten Japanese Art);
Wood block print by Paul Leschhorn (Image from Modern Printmakers);

Great Snow in 1717, woodcut or engraving by anonymous artist in The History and Antiquities of New England by John Warner Barber, 1856 (Image from Internet Archive).]

Block Printmaker Hiratsuka

        Un-ichi Hiratsuka (Japan, 1895-1997, long life!) was one of the leaders of the Japanese sôsaku hanga movement in the early twentieth century, in which artists draw, carve, and print their works themselves, instead of the traditional system in which each of these steps is done by different craftsmen.
        I like a lot of Hiratsuka’s work, but I particularly like the architectural pieces.  We’ll start with a traditional Japanese scene, with traditional Japanese architecture and lots of detail.  I love the geometry of the building contrasted with the freer carving of the natural features.  Then for variety I’ve also got one of Hiratsuka’s American scenes, with an interesting composition.  I absolutely love this one, with its combination of architectural geometry and organic branches, and its hand-carved roughness creating fine details.

        I also couldn’t resist including two little botanical pieces, one early and one later, with very different styles.  The first is very graphic and geometric, with a textured background filling the space.  The second is more delicate and realistic, with plenty of empty white.  Over such a long lifetime, it’s not surprising that Hiratsuka should have worked in a variety of styles.  I really like these both.

        Here are lots of H printmakers to revisit:

Hasui, Kawase

Heckel, Erich

Heller, Helen West

Hewit, Mabel

Hiroshi, Yoshida

Hiroshige, Utagawa

Hnizdovsky, Jacques

Höch, Hannah

Hokusai

Holbein, Hans

Hume, Gary

Hutsul, Christopher

[Pictures: Early Summer in Ginkuji, wood block print by Un-ichi Hiratsuka, 1950 (Image from Invaluable);

Georgetown University Clock Tower, wood block print by Hiratsuka, 1967 (Image from Georgetown University Library);

Plum, wood block print by Hiratsuka, 1930 (Image from Wikiart); 

Butterfly and Jointweed, wood block print by Hiratsuka, 1966 (Image from UnichiHiratsuka.com).]

A-Z Challenge, all posts for the letter H

Block Print a Day 6

        In trying to find a variety of relief print techniques I couldn’t do without Japanese moku hanga.  This sure looks incredibly different from Saturday’s bold, rough, spontaneous black and white!  It looks more like a delicate watercolor painting -- and it is indeed the technique of inking the block with watercolor glazes that allows the subtle gradations of color.  However, unlike a watercolor painting, everything about a Japanese woodblock print is minutely and meticulously planned.  This particular piece, a still life, is rather unusual, as prewar Japanese printmakers tended to concentrate on people and landscapes.  (You can see one of Kawase Hasui’s landscapes here.)  These may be the yummiest-looking apples of the week.

[Picture: Budo to Ringo (Grapes and Apples), Japanese color wood block print by Kawase Hasui, 1940 (Image from Ukiyoe-Gallery)]

Hasui in the Moonlight

        The artist, Kawase Hasui (Japan, 1883-1957), described the location of this woodblock print as giving "an impression of eternal and infinite beauty," and I absolutely agree with him.  At least, I've never seen Matsushima Bay on the northeast coast of Japan, but this certainly is a beautiful print.

        Hasui was among a group of printmakers trying to meld traditional Japanese woodblock themes with a more modern aesthetic.  (Of course "modern" is now about a hundred years old!)  There definitely is something more personal about this piece compared with older Japanese woodblock prints, something softer, more three-dimensional, less staid and rigid.  There's a little more of a look of Monet here.

        There's also something really interesting going on in the sky, which has clearly not been inked in the smooth traditional way.  I don't know how Hasui achieved this effect, whether through inking with smaller brushes, or some sort of ink stick, or whether the texture was applied to the paper after printing with something more like cray-pas or pastels…  But I like it.  It adds just the right amount of movement to keep a peaceful scene from becoming static.

        Hasui went on to write of this piece, "I regret my inability to do justice to this ideal subject," but I think he wasn't giving himself sufficient credit.  I think he captures a wonderful mood of beauty, romance, mystery, and serenity.

[Picture: Matsushima in the Moonlight, woodblock print by Kawase Hasui, 1919 (Image from the Smithsonian's Sackler Gallery).]