orthodox etegami (1) : the blank background

Tomato etegami by my good friend Youko Ogawa

It has often been observed that people who take up the art of Etegami after having mastered other forms of visual arts have a harder time producing orthodox etegami than the absolute beginner. And though one of the characteristics of Etegami is said to be its lack of rules (compared to other traditional Japanese arts), it sure doesn't seem that way to the western artist. One of the "not-a-rule-but-still..." traditions of orthodox etegami is the blank background.

Take a look at the works posted on the Japan Etegami Society website. If the page appears correctly on your screen, you will see links (near the bottom of the page) to the month-by-month archives of etegami selected from among the many submitted by JES members every year. A few of these submissions are elegantly rendered in the style of sumi-e, but the majority are somewhat awkward representations of their subjects-- in other words, Etegami at its Best! None of the images have shadows. The background is blank in every one.

The second photo I posted above is a page from the September 2012 issue of Gekkan Etegami (the Japanese Etegami Society's official magazine) which gives samples of what the JES considers exemplary etegami. Most of them are awkwardly charming, and none have any background shadows. By coincidence, I had hosted a global etegami call on the subject of tomatoes just two years earlier, in 2010. After the online exhibit came to an end, I showed the works to the members of the Etegami group I meet with every month. Like me, these Japanese ladies have been painting etegami for decades, and I wondered how they would respond to these submissions. Their comments were revealing.

While they were genuinely delighted with the artwork, and even more thrilled that interest in etegami had started spreading beyond the borders of Japan, they struggled with the question of whether the works qualified as etegami at all. "As beautiful as it is, the shadow on this one disqualifies it from being etegami," said the most experienced member of our group, pointing at the purple shadowing underneath a tomato. "It's a still life painting rather than an etegami."

They had some other intriguing responses as well. Please read the complete comments at this blog post and share your thoughts with me.

today's eyeball

The literal translation of the Japanese expression kyou no medama is "today's eyeball." Variations include "the eyeball of the menu," or "the eyeball of the festival," or "the eyeball of the event." It refers to a particular thing of special interest or value that is meant to attract customers or participants within a larger context-- the keynote speaker at a conference, a popular season-only item on a restaurant menu, and so on.

The silly series of etegami posted here was inspired by this expression. The wordplay going on would be clear to any Japanese speaker. A fried egg ("sunny side up" as we say in English) is called a "fried eyeball." And the eyeball creature bathing in the cracked rice bowl is Daddy Eyeball, a popular and very familiar character from the Japanese manga series Gegege no Kitaro by the late Shigeru Mizuki. At the top right is a bunch of fresh-caught fish with bulging eyes, and at the bottom right is a pair of toy pop-out eyeball glasses. I may add a few more to the series if I ever get unbearably bored with nothing better to do.  Maybe you can help me by suggesting more eyeball wordplay.

happy collaboration

Fumiko Koga is a dear friend I know through etegami exchange, but whose talents and curiosity are most brilliantly expressed in cut-paper art cards and paper crafts. (Do a search for Fumiko on my mailart gallery blog to see many, many samples of her work.)

A couple days ago, she sent me four pieces of origami paper folded into narrow triangles, along with a diagram showing how to insert the points of those triangles into one another to form a picture frame. I followed her directions, which resulted in the square frame shown above, with a tilted empty space in the middle. I filled the empty space with some origami paper of my own and decorated it with snowflakes and an etegami fox in his snowy den. Then I glued the whole thing onto a stiff board so I could hang it more easily.

I forgot to take a photo of the materials before I put the frame together, so I've attached one taken by Linda Austin, also from our etegami group, who received similar parts from Fumiko to make her own frame. Such a fun collaboration!

etegami phone cases

I was thrilled when two customers who had recently ordered etegami smart phone cases from my RedBubble shop sent me pictures. Unless my RB customers tell me themselves, I have no way of knowing who they are. So it was gratifying to be able to thank them directly. Now I crave one of those etegami phone cases for myself...only I don't have a smart phone. Maybe I need to discuss this with Santa.

a harvest of etegami

Considering that autumn is my favorite season in Japan, and that it provides an abundance of inspiration for etegami, I have no excuse for posting so little of my new work these past few months. So today, let me give you a peek of some of the fruit of my autumnal labor.

The top photo shows the fourth and last in the series of seasonal recipe sets I was asked to create this year for the bilingual newspaper, The Japan Times- ST. The series began with a set of four lily bulb (yurine) recipes published in January; continued with the edible wild vegetable (sansai) set in April and the pickled plum (umeboshi) set in July; and ended in October with the persimmon (kaki) set. Each set stretched my meager artistic talent and taught me a lot about problem-solving. I received some often-encouraging, always-stimulating feedback from readers and newspaper staff. It was a wonderful job.

Half-way through the year, I came to realize I was not going to find the time to create a new desk calendar for 2016. Once I accepted that fact instead of fighting it, I felt lighter and happier. And guess what? At the end of September, everything suddenly fell into place, and ideas that had been percolating in the back of my subconscious allowed me to capture and express them in etegami. 

Combined with a few works from my archives, I ended up with two new desk calendars. No doggies or kitties-- or even barnyard animals-- this year. My theme this year is impactful quotes from the Bible. One calendar is a collection of all Japanese etegami, the other is all English. And though the theme is the same for both, the images are completely different.  They will not be listed on Etsy except by private reservation. Contact me by email, Etsy message, Twitter, Facebook message, or whatever, for a reserved listing.

I was also kept busy this year with more than the usual number of custom orders, a trend that may take over the bulk of my work next year. The final photo is of a very special custom order, a project of which I was honored and moved to be a part. The Japanese words say "Strength and Courage." And that's about all I am free to tell you for now.

sneezing iguana

Last month I googled "how many times do I have to sneeze in a row before it kills me?" I'd been sneezing so much, I was starting to suspect I'd be dead by now if it weren't for my cardiac pacemaker. But I guess that isn't so.

I did learn that the longest human sneezing spree on record is 978 days, and that iguanas sneeze more often and more productively than any other animal.

So today I became inspired to paint  a sneezing iguana. (I know I know, it looks more like it's singing opera.) Yes, I am still sneezing. But not everyday, and not all day. Must be the change of seasons. Recently acquired allergies. Dry air. Or maybe I'm part iguana.

carrots by any other name

I recently made a new friend by overcoming my natural desire to fade into the woodwork, and instead, reaching out to someone who looked like she felt even more out of place than I did.

Yesterday she brought over a huge pitcher full of freshly-made carrot juice, the tastiest carrot juice I have ever, ever had. I've always liked carrots, but I never loved carrots until yesterday. To celebrate this life event, I made some carrot etegami.

The card at the top says "Mr.Carrot, I had underestimated you." I'm sending this one to my new friend. I have no doubt that she will pick up on the double meaning-- a reference to my happy surprise in our new friendship.

The second card says: We are not of night nor of darkness; so then let us not sleep as others do, but let us be alert and sober. (I Thessalonians 5:6)