今回のエントリーはなかなか論理的になってしまいましたので、すみませんが、日本語の訳は難しくて、あきらめました!
Having entered the Master’s program at Kyoto Seika this year, I
have had to also start taking some compulsory Art theory courses. I was
actually quite glad to get back into some academic art subjects because the
practical courses at Kyoto Seika (I might get in trouble for saying this) and
probably other Japanese Art universities too, are not so concerned with
critical art analysis or having concepts as the foundation of your art
practice.
One of these courses is run by a very charismatic (let’s call him)
S-sensei, who is a researcher into Art criticism and an absolute fountain of
knowledge concerning Western Art, Contemporary Art and the Philosphy of Art.
The students in this particular class were from various specializations within
the Arts faculty; Western-style Painting, Printmaking, Ceramics, Video,
Japanese Painting and of course me and one other in Textiles. In one of our
rambling discussion sessions in class, S-sensei got onto the topic of how
Textiles students at Kyoto Seika often make their work flat, stretched around a
panel, as if to make it a painting.
When I first came to Kyoto Seika as an exchange student over 5
years ago, I remember being taken aback by this same thing. The students in the
first and second year classes all owned a wooden panel about 90x60cm that they reused for each set project as a base to stretch and pin their dyed
fabric works on for critique. They will make the same sized work in wax-resist
dyeing, hand drawn resist and katazome stencil dyeing. Some students continue
to make panel-stretched works into 3rd and 4th year.
Amongst those students studying dyeing techniques, I feel this is the majority.
A critique for Seika 2nd year Textiles students where they all presented their works tautly pinned to wooden panels. |
It only takes a quick look at the works of the current dye
technique Professors and their pre-decessors’ works to see that flat works are
the order of the day.
Toba Mika, 'Kagerou' Hakusan Tsumugi Silk, Katazome, Acid Dyes. 198 x 340cm |
Ichimura Fumio, 'Phase' Fuji Silk, Silkscreen print. 180x270cm |
Asadu Shuji, 'WORK D2' Cotton, Pigments and Stencil. 197 x 324cm |
Takaya Mitsuo, 'Coexistence' Shinshu Silk, Acid Dyes, Mixed Dye Techniques, Wax Resist. 140 x 160cm |
Kawata Koro, '2002・MITTIE -Wall-’ Silk, Paper, Acid Dyes, Ink, Stencil Resist, Collage. 210x340cm |
I’m not saying this is a bad thing, I’m
just intrigued by why this is.
Afore-mentioned S-Sensei, being the
inquisitive person that he is, is famed to have attended a Kyoto Seika Textiles
critique and posed the very same question to the head of the department; ‘Why
go to all the trouble of dyeing fabric
only to stretch around a panel and make it flat?’. The story goes that the
Textiles head Professor let rip about how panels were a tradition in themselves
in dyeing and presentation and how S-sensei couldn’t possibly understand the
complexities of the contemporary dyeing field. Needless to say, that’s not much
of an answer.
I have some theories and they take us into
tricky territory about what is art and what is not.
My first theory is this. Japanese art has
long made use of the folding screen as an artistic surface. Great painters of
the Rinpa movement or Yamato-e for example, used the
folding screen format often. This form is so familiar in the field of Japanese
art and perhaps those making panel and folding screen works today see no
disparity at all.
Sakai Houitsu of Rinpa School, 'Summer and Autumn Grasses' 「夏秋草図屏風」Collection of Tokyo National Museum |
typical Japanese Folding Screen Paintings |
These old examples of folding screens were painting on the panels. For this new
textile folding screen category to have arisen, then it must have been
concluded at some point and in a certain stream of the field that textiles can
also function as painting. I feel that this was probably around the 1950’s when
many textile dyers were starting to make these big abstract panels that were a
split from the tradition of ‘functional textiles’, instead treating them as
modern art. Today I think this ‘flat textiles as modern art’ idea still exists.
I'm thinking of people who were working at the point when functional textiles crossed over into artwork textiles such as Miyosawa Motoju. His works shown here on display in Kobe. |
Also, from the 1950's, Minagawa Taizo. A work based on sketches of traditional homes in Hachijo, East Japan. |
The
second theory, or perhaps a contributing factor, is that of public entry juried
exhibitions. These are the sort that are held by the “Such and Such art society
of West Japan ” or the “Something Something New Artists Association”
where anybody can pay a fee to enter a work for consideration. These
exhibitions most often split entry into categories; paintings, sculptures,
craft objects, glass etc. The organisers usually specify that only artworks
within certain size limitations will be accepted and some formats may be ineligible.
You know the sort of exhibitions I mean. This is a lesser one, the annual Shinshokougeikai Exibition. |
Could it be that when this split occurred
between functional textiles and modern-art-piece textiles that textile dyers
wanted to enter their pieces as ‘art’? Perhaps they saw that to enter into the
art category (and therefore the art sphere) as opposed to ‘craft’, they need to
make their textiles look like what was commonly thought of as ‘art’. That is,
art=flat, craft=object.
The
Dyeing course in Kyoto Seika’s Textile department leans both ways, both towards
this “dyed flat panel textiles=art” approach, and towards the traditional “dyed
textile as kimono or functional object” approach. Which makes it a confusing
place to ponder what textiles is.
Textiles Student's graduation works, Kyoto Seika 2008 |
Textiles works at the 2012 Graduation Exhibition, Kyoto Seika |
Whether
you call your textiles a piece of craft or art is probably not important. Perhaps
it is both. These terms maybe do not even apply to a Japanese understanding of
art and craft. What I am currently most interested in out of all of this is
things like:
Are
you just sticking your dyed artwork on a panel because that’s what everyone
does? Or is the flatness of the panel important to the work you are making? Are
you dyeing your fabric and then making a panel for it because you like it that
way or because you think it needs to look like a painting otherwise it’s not
really an ‘artwork’. Are you making something where its textile-ness is
essential or could you just paint it?
There
may not be answers because everyone’s approach is different and textiles is
difficult to define as a field. Ultimately I just hope that people will maybe
recognize these tendencies in the dyeing field and be aware of why they are
making things the way they are making them. It would be great to see more
diversity within Textiles in the traditional textile dyeing capital of Kyoto .
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