Open Studio & Artworks in Progress - Nakajo Artist in Residence

They say the weather this year has been exceptionally strange. No kidding! We watched another typhoon approaching Japan on Sunday and hoped it wouldn't wash out our Open Studio event. Thankfully the heavy rain held off until the night and we had a successful day.

From 10-4, I had my studio room in my little house open to the public and Mihajlo & Jelena (the other two artists here) were screening their previous films in a little cinema setup inside one of the other houses. We welcomed a lot of our local friends and faces we've met at local events. It was cool to show them that we have actually been quite busy, making and exploring.

I made a dyed banner for the event using powdered tumeric I got at the market stall (The cash register ladies had a little chuckle at me buying an entire bag of tumeric) and some indigo pigment stick. It's tied down with stones and bits of broken pottery I found in the river near here.

My banner for the event looking a
bit out of place in the grey weather

no sign of the alps all day but at least it wasn't typhoon-ing

Here's some snapshots from inside my studio.

Welcome to Melinda's Studio. A sign I brought from home that I made a couple of years ago

A sign prepared by the staff about me and about Australia (importantly, tim tams are included!) random cute things gifted by locals

Here's a piece I've been working on using a roll of Shoji paper left by a previous artist (the paper used to paper the sliding screen doors)

These circles are test swatches of different pigments I've ground up from local stones found mostly by the river. I'm hoping to get a few more metres of dots before the exhibition late this month

the room I'm using as a studio. spacious!!

Inspiration-y tid-bits. Pigments I brought from Australia in tiny bottles.

Bird book - check. Japanese Weeds Identification books - check.

I've been busy smashing up rocks too and making pigment colours. Mostly I've found stones at the river nearby, the Dojiri River. They are mostly quite soft and oxidised red or yellow on the outside but there's also crazy cool fossils and shells in the river bed because once upon a time this area as under the sea! crazy. I'm up to 27 colours at the moment, maybe I'll get to 50?

Rock collection - mostly these are ones that were too hard for making pigment out of. Chestnuts too just to make sure you were paying attention. 

I'm also making a series of Katazome works on paper depicting weeds and plants I've found around Nakajo. Will do about 15, I'm already up to 11.

I've been carving the names of each plant in the romanized Japanese this time, instead of the latin name like I've done previously. 

Anyway, that's it for now I think. Got to keep some things a secret! The final artworks will be displayed at the Nagano City Arts Centre gallery from October 24-29th 2018. Lots to do! 

Life in Nakajo - Greenery and community

I've been in Nakajo for almost 1 month now. Slowly the complexity of this little piece of the world has been revealing itself.

Nakajo is a beautiful town. Until 2010, it was designated as a village and I think at it's heart, it still is. What is now the 'main street' through Nakajo is not exactly 'happening', there's a post office, a pharmacy, a middle school, high school, the City Office branch, a community hall, a couple of tiny supermarkets and one or two other shops. The rest of the street is very quiet. There are some shops that look like they were in business up until a few years ago but are now deserted and here and there the greenery is creeping in.

The Butchers signage - the shop itself is as is but without any sign of life.

Everywhere the greenery is busting out and over things.

BUT! The true appeal of Nakajo is the nature! There are all these steeeeep windy roads heading north up into the hills north of Nakajo's main street and the river. They all converge at about 700metres above sea level on this parallel road that links Shrines, stacked rice fields, an old water-powered Rice mill, gigantic cedar trees, a totally retro Japanese Inn, two fantastic old wooden Schools now disused - one is a time capsule of debris and broken floorboards, the other has a glistening hall used for musical performances....The list goes on. For us artists, this is the most fantastic part.

MOUNTAINNNNNS

An old water-powered Mill, which used to be used for pounding the outer husks off rice.

Looking back out through the entrance gate to Gau-in Temple

The time capsule of Miyamasa Elementary School was incredible

11 metre girth of 800 year old + 'Kusaga Cedar' designated a natural treasure of Nagano Prefecture

Down here in the river edge part of Nakajo there's some pretty great things too. There is an amazing Shrine with a super long name, just next door to our little houses. So much atmosphere (and in this weather, mozzies too). There was finally a sunny day to take some photos. The priest for this shrine and a couple of others in the area lives just down a couple of houses. He has a busy life taking care of these amazing buildings and ceremonies at the same time as farming and fishing.

The Grounds of Sumetaruhomikoto Jinja Suwasha Go-oden  - Say that ten times fast

Sumetaruhomikoto Jinja Suwasha Go-oden

There's also a virtually unmarked park that has these reconstructed thatch houses which were uncovered in a survey and dig in the 1960s. Complete with reproductions of bones that were found buried in the same area and Jomon-era pottery - which looks nothing like the ceramics we commonly associate with Japan. That all came from Korea much later on - simple and refined. This stuff is hefty and symbolic.

Reconstructions of unearthed village near my house

best part was the reconstructed ceramic skull. There were burial sites here too.
It's almost 'not Japanese' if you know what I mean.

But more to the point, we've discovered that there is a lot going on here despite appearances. There is a true sense of community - festivals and sports days, people harvesting rice together, Taiko drumming practice on Wednesday nights. There's a mountaineering club, a historical association, a Magicians club (!!!)
Even though I wouldn't call myself a total city person, this kind of lifestyle is definitely far removed from life in the outer burbs. Buses are infrequent, people drive everywhere, the day starts with the sun and people seem to eat meals by the clock at 6, 12 and 6....
There are a bunch of good humans here too - those who were born here and those who chose to make this home. Attempting cool things too like encouraging agricultural experiences for young people, building a new artists' studios and gathering place, and turning abandoned old houses into cafes.

We are nearly halfway through the residency period and I've been busy making too. Gearing up for an open studio this weekend. When everythings up on the wall and looking pretty I'll share some images with you of what I've been up to :)

For now, enjoy some Northern Alps!

RINPA - I'm living inside a Rinpa painting.

You might have already heard of the Japanese art term "Rinpa".
The Japanese characters 琳派 are often written in English alternatively as Rimpa.
Whichever way you want to say it, Rinpa is a Japanese art movement that covers much of the Edo Period. It's not an Art movement in the traditional sense though.

A Favourite - Morning Glories by Suzuki Kiitsu. Part of a pair of 6panel folding screens.

The term Rin-pa 琳派 reads as "The Rin Group" but it's actually a contraction of what was once known as the Sōtatsu Kōrin Group (Tawaraya Sōtatsu and Ogata Kōrin are two very famous painters) The rin refers to the surname of painter Ogata Kōrin (1658-1716).

Over time, definitions of who is included in the Rinpa group have been fluid and it wasn't even until the 20th century that the shortened name Rinpa stuck. It's not an art movement based on a Master and his Apprentices system but more of a group of artists from different eras who identified with the Rinpa style and held Ogata Kōrin/Tawaraya Sōtatsu/Sakai Hōitsu in high esteem as kind of honorary teachers. See a more eloquent and detailed explanation here... Interesting huh?

What I love about Rinpa works are the sense of energy and movement they convey with minimal subject matter. Often there is a sweeping form that leads your eye across the composition or a repetition of motifs that creates a nice rhythm. It's unlike a "western" (I don't really like that word..."non-Japanese"?) take on perspective that leads your eye inwards or backwards, these compositions move your eye around and across. There's no concern to depict the background - it is suggested by its absence.

My personal favourites amongst Rinpa artists are

Sakai Hōitsu 酒井抱一
1761–1828
and his student/assistant
Suzuki Kiitsu　鈴木其一

Here's a pair of folding screens by Sakai Hōitsu, 「夏秋草図屏風」"Summer and Autumn Flowering Plants". These are designated "Important Cultural Property" by the Japanese government. They were painted with Japanese pigments and you can see the background is silver leaf - which darkens over time.
The right hand side alludes to summer - a river, blooming lilies, twining bindweed and long green grasses. The left side is an autumn image of windswept grass, kuzu vine, and other symbolic autumn flowers.

Pair of Folding Screens by Sakai Houitsu "Summer and Autumn Flowering Plants" Edo Period

detail of summer flowers screen - Japanese Bindweed

From the Autumn screen - Kuzu vines, Sususki grasses and other lovely bits and pieces

As an aside, did you know that time in these kinds of paintings is often depicted from right to left? Summer on the right turning to autumn on the left. In other famous works, the birds or motifs are often travelling from right to left too.

Here's a painting by Suzuki Kiitsu - alluding to the cold start to Spring with plum blossoms and camellias. - Honolulu Museum of Art

When I was living in Kyoto, I would look at Rinpa artworks like these of plants and flowers and think, hmm that's pretty but I didn't necessarily have any connection to the imagery within.

Now I'm in Nakajo, out in the countryside west of Nagano central, I'm seeing these very plants and flowers everywhere! You can kind of glaze over with the Japanese tendency to depict things seasonally - it's so ubiquitous. Morning glories on summer yukata. Susuki grasses to depict cool autumn breezes. Twining Kuzu vines to show the greenery of late summer. Dragonflies, cherry blossoms, bells, fans, you could go on and on. I guess it is what people outside of Japan might think of as most "Japanese-looking".

But then you get out somewhere like here in Nakajo, and you realise these patterns and motifs are not cheesy imagery, they are truly what is growing at your feet, on the paths and next to houses.

Heron wading through the river...

SO herein lies one dilemma. (there's plenty more, I can assure you but let's start with just this one!)

Usually, I am working in Australia, depicting my local surroundings - birds and plants and colours - in a Japanese dyeing technique. There is *I hope* some balance between Australian-ness and Japanese-ness.

Now I'm here, I want to depict all the wonderful things I'm seeing around me. But, as it turns out, all of the things I'm seeing are kind of cliche things like morning glories on posts and twining greenery and drooping heads of grass. If I make these works in Katazome, on washi like I intend to, will anyone even blink? They might just come out looking like Japanese artworks. Which is nice. But I'm not really into just nice.

How to see it all through my own Australian eyes instead?
Not sure yet.

There was a revival of interest in Rinpa artworks in the last few years as various exhibitions and events celebrated the 400 year anniversary of the movement. (I was even involved in one in 2015) Among those initiatives were exhibitions to re-define Rinpa, to see the modern world through Rinpa eyes or to bring Rinpa into the 21st century.

Rinpa 400year anniversary exhibtion I was involved in at the Museum of Kyoto in early 2015

How about not just pulling Rinpa sentiments into the 21st century but also stepping sideways to incorporate an international perspective. After all, Rinpa is a movement open to any artists who hold those early artists in high esteem.

First days - Nakajo Artist in Residence

I'm back in Japan! It's hot and everything is shades of green and I am rapidly having to grasp around in my brain for Japanese words that have been buried for a while. I've only landed on Thursday but there's been a lot going on!

For the next 10 weeks, I'm living in the small town of Nakajo to take part in an Artist in Residence program, NAGAIR. On the map, Nakajo used to be a "village" 村 (as opposed to a not a "town" 市) but since 2010 it's been absorbed into the outer reaches of Nagano city. If you go on population, apparently Nakajo area has just one more person than Gunning Shire, in NSW. Maybe that's me. It's a small town but big enough to have a post office, a high school, a primary school and City hall Office. Plus more which I've yet to explore properly :)

Nakajo is 30minutes west of Nagano-city (which, by the way is almost the same population as Canberra! So many facts today!) by bus. If you kept going west beyond Nakajo you'd hit the Japanese Alps, which include the Hakuba ski fields. I'm assured you can see straight to the alps from my front room but it's been cloudy since I arrived so I'm still waiting for them to reveal themselves.

View from my House - with imaginary Alps

and my house!!
my dreams of two bedroom real estate are temporarily realised

Because Nagano prefecture is pretty much smack in the middle of the main island of Japan, there's mountains in every direction and the nature around here is spectacular! I mean, even the scenery on the way to the supermarket is just amazing.

Ya know, just your average walk to the bus stop.

I think 4 years of living in Iwakura, on the northern edge of Kyoto's suburbs served me well. I'm not phased by the spiders (SO MANY SPIDERS) and creaky things and I know that the convenience store is far away and buses cost a lot to get where you want to go. That's ok. I was a little spooked though by a lady today who was putting shiny ribbons across her rice paddies to keep the birds away who told us that bears, wild boars and deer regularly show themselves round here. Oh, and snakes. Ahhh, the wild!


I've started gathering supplies and thoughts about what I'm going to try and make here. I know it's early days but there's not a lot of time for faffing so I'm trying to crystallize a direction to take things in. I'm thinking pigments from local stones and soil to do katazome artworks of Nakajo's plants on linen and local washi. Maybe some silk if I can find some I like.


I figured out the bike I am using has squeaky brakes when I stopped every 5 metres to take photos of plants I've never seen before. With almost every plant, I have to be like "What are you?!" With the help of some trusty second hand plant books, I've been able to identify a bunch of them already and unlike Australia, it seems that the plants running riot here and just smothering EVERYTHING are not weeds at all but local plants. That's a surprise for me.

The line between Plant and Weed is so evidently fine here though. Dark purple morning glories are Japanese. Foreign morning glory species are weeds, as designated by Nagano city government. Tiny white daisies are weeds, the purple version are natives that flower in autumn. The kuzu vines with purple flowers which are tracing themselves over every substrate possible are local but the purple-berried Pokeweed is not. To me, they all look like they belong here but alas, what would I know :)

I'm sure I'll write more about my plant discoveries soon. Until then here's some more photos. I'm off to do some sketches.

A monk with floaty sleeves on the route up to Zenko-ji (the famous temple) in Nagano City. See, I told you everything was shades of GREEN.

The Main Hall of Zenko-ji in Nagano City. The sun was out for maybe half and hour and I got sunburnt :(

Meanwhile, in Nakajo. Straw dogs at the market stall looking for good homes.

Weeds!

Spiders!

Everything is so greeeeen

Rocks Rock! Experiments with local Pigment Colours

Rocks are so cool. In case you hadn't noticed.
More on that later! First, a bit of background...

When I was in Japan studying katazome, I was introduced to dyeing paper (and sometimes fabric) using 'ganryo' pigments.

"Ganryo" just means colourant, it is the colour in powdered form without any binder. (Though it can be sold in the form of paint-pans or solid sticks). It can be a naturally occuring colourant, like yellow ocher (ohdo) calcium carbonate (gohfun), cinnabar (ginshu which is natural but ironically, toxic!) indigo (ai), ultramarine (gunjoh) or iron oxide (bengara) etc etc. They can also be chemically altered versions of these (to produce whitened tones etc) or just straight up synthetic pigments (basically a chalk substrate dyed different, sometimes nasty colours)

A small portion of my collection of commercially available Ganryo pigments. The ones in stick form are already mixed with a binder.

Pigments are also used in Nihonga (Japanese-style Painting) but they are slightly more complicated - see my older post all about it, and painting broccoli, here.

That one time, when I spent 5 days painting a broccoli portrait in Japanese pigments...

As I was saying, pigments are also used in combination with the katazome technique. Most famously, rich pigment colours are used in the Okinawan Bingata technique (similar to katazome - see more here) and I suspect that's why they are in the katazome repertoire in the first place. In both cases, the powdered pigment is mixed with a binder - soymilk - to create a thick paint-like liquid. These can then be applied to the fabric or washi being dyed in the same manner as dyes (with a stiff bristled brush, from the front side).

Mixing commercial pigments with soymilk to a painty consistency.

Some bits and pieces I dyed on washi (kozo paper) using commercial pigments and the katazome technique. 

Just to point out that pigments have different characteristics to dyes, it might be important to remember:
A DYE is colourant dissolved in liquid which grabs onto a fibre - it really gets into the fabric and you faciliate a chemical reaction (with steam or an alkali etc to ensure that it links sucessfully and stays on that fibre).
A PIGMENT, on the other hand, is insoluble and the particles sit on the fabric, rather than seep into the fibres. They are matte finish and can appear to look more like paint.
Bingata technique utilises this unique difference by dyeing colours first (transparent colours, which grip the fibres) then adding details on top in pigment colours (matte colours that sit on top of the fibres. This step is called "kuma-doi" lit. adding shadows). This creates a sense of depth which can't be achieved by using only layers of dye.

a detail of a bingata pattern on cotton cloth from the 19th Century. You might be able to see the heavy red pigments in the centre of the petals creating depth, versus the translucent blue dye of the background.

ANYWAY!

Having known that pigments can be used with the katazome technique and having played around with them in a short Nihonga course, I wondered if I could make my own, Australian pigment colours. Canberra is well known for "Canberra Red Bricks", churned out here from 1913 to the 1970's, so I knew that at the very least there would be a clay around here that I could use for pigment.

Rewind a bit to last September.

sketching with dirt and a lump of charcoal,
September 2017

As one of four artists chosen to take part in Craft ACT's inaugural 'Spring Tidbinbilla Residency", I spent time out at Tidbinbilla Nature Reserve, sketching, hiking and photographing. During a hike back down from Gibraltar Peak, I stopped to sketch the view of the mountains. I had found a pinch of some clay-ish dirt up the track and little and wanted to try using it as paint. Nearby where I'd sat to draw I also found some burnt tree stump and it worked perfectly as a charcoal.
This simple drawing sparked an obsession.


Fast forward and I've collected 100 Natural Pigments and counting.

a growing collection of local pigment colours.

Since February this year, I have been keeping my eyes on the ground. In non-descript walking paths and parks, along rivers, on the tops of hills and some trips to beaches, I've found colours in rocks, dirt, shells, ash and charcoal.

Mostly, I've smashed, sifted, ground, re-sifted and re-ground rocks to get these colours. Some rocks give themselves up easily, crumbling after one strike. Others are like trying to shatter steel.

smashing up rocks - this one gave itself up easily.

after sifting and grinding.

I've been sort of playing at faux-Geologist. Mostly I've been smashing and seeing what happens. I've also been trying to understand which rocks are found where by using these visually stunning but scientifically overwhelming Geological maps.

beautiful but cryptic Geological Map from Geosicence Australia

WOOO! Rocks!

The most exciting part of this whole experiment has been to do what I first intended - use these colours I've collected as pigments for katazome. The chance for this arose when an exhibition was borne of Craft ACT Spring Residency at Tidbinilla last September. The show wrapped up this past weekend at the Tuggeranong Arts Centre in Canberra. The work all came together beautifully, without intending to, all four of us artists used complementary textures, colours, as well as references to stones and foliage. Narelle Phillips at the Tuggeranong Arts Centre did an excellent job of curation and organising everything.

Traversing Tidbinbilla, Tuggeranong Arts Centre July 6-28, 2018. To the right is work by fellow artist Sally Mumford.

Here are a few close ups of the work I exhibited. You'll see works on paper - these are all made with my pigments mixed with soymilk, applied to kozo washi. I also tried the pigments on different weights of silk, in an installation piece depicting Eucalyptus Cinerea foliage. Finally, I wanted to display my vials of pigment in the manner of a old fashioned museum, you can see this in the wooden box in the pictures.

Foliage Series, 2018. Katazome on washi using local pigments. 38 x 40cm

Left to Right, 'Welcome Swallow', 'Eastern Yellow Robin' & 'Grey Shrike-thrush' 2018. Katazome on washi using local pigments. each 25 x 31cm

Flame Robin (Male) 2018

In all these works on paper, I selected ground pigments from what I had collected, mixing them with soymilk in small mortars. I didn't really mix different colours together, just used what I had as is or layering one colour over another. Charcoal from found burnt logs was good for giving strong blacks. The hardest colours to represent were a vivid yellow and red for the Flame robin and the Eastern Yellow Robin. In real life, the breast feathers of these birds are nearly fluorescent. I had to settle for earthier versions.

Cinerea Breeze. 2018. Katazome and earth pigments on silk. The cottage we stayed at out at Tidbinbilla during the residency is called Cinerea Cottage, so this piece has extra meaning :)

Floaty detail of Cinerea Breeze. The foliage is dyed using pigments and the background beige and orange tones were dyed in a natural dye bath of Eucalyptus Cinerea leaves. 

Lastly, here's my (Tiny) Museum of Natural Pigments. I love that colours which seemed so ordinary and similar when I spotted them, appear completely different when crushed and lined up next to each other. Many of these were successful as pigments to dye paper but a lot of them were too gritty or crystal-y to be an effective colourant. Still, they are pretty as a powder amongst their fellows.

*I'd like to make clear that I have only taken small amounts of colour from locations that aren't national park or designated nature reserves. I definitely didn't take from spots where it would damage the area. I know there will be some people who will take issue with me having done this. I have tried to honour the spirit of nature and her beauty through these works. If I'm found to have done something wrong, I'm sure I will hear about it...*

In an exciting development, this exhibition will now travel to be exhibited in the gallery at the Tidbinbilla Visitors Centre, from Friday August 3rd until the 14th of October 2018! It will be great to see the works so close to the location that inspired them and I hope lots of interstate and international visitors get to see them too.

The next step in this Pigment adventure is looking further afield for different colours that aren't present in the ACT and also, trying to make pigment colours from natural dye baths - as 'lake pigments'. This a science-y process that I haven't had much luck with yet (though admittedly, I haven't tried very hard yet!). Watch this space!