Hitoshi Nakazato: Line Outside Series
Sept. 24 – Nov. 6, 1999
“… By 1992 it had become clear that Nakazato had emerged as one of the greatest colorist of our time. His always impeccably structured works had become infused with a kind of sensuality through color that juxtaposed to its more cerebral aspects gave the paintings a unique sense of balance.”
Sandra [Ericson] Ashford
“The semiotics of the primary shapes, the circle, the triangle, and the square, is a hackneyed cliche in the modernist vocabulary. It has been used repeatedly from the Russian Constructivists to the Bauhaus artists and recycled by the Post Modernists with its frequent visibility permeating into our daily lives.
Within the notion of artistic expression as a means to experience the unknown, these shapes would be an absolute taboo, and should never be seen on the space of the canvas. My reason for choosing the primary shapes as the painterly motif for the series entitled the “Line Outside” originates precisely from this viewpoint of ‘should not.’ Obviously, it imposes a limitation of conventions. Yet moreover, it delivers the sharpest statement concerning the perception of ‘imaging’ in this historical juncture of time, and at the same time sets a conceptual direction in the process of ‘making.’ In this paradox, my choice is to assume an aggressive practice of ‘imagemaking.’
… My thought as I write this is that if I can reach the state of mind that Sengai was in when he drew the one large circle in the middle of the space with the inscription, “Eat this and drink tea.” I will have reached a state of sublime, free from constraint.”
Hitoshi Nakazato
The Washington Post April 11, 2002
Introduction
Hitoshi Nakazato has been an influential figure on the Philadelphia art scene for several decades. His importance is in the large part due to his long and effective leadership as professor of art and as chairman of his department at the University of Pennsylvania. It is therefore with great pleasure that the Ericson Gallery finds itself in a position to represent this internationally recognized artist in the city to which he has given so much.
I was first made aware of Nakazato’s work in the later eighties at a time when his painting was undergoing major transformations. His rigorously structured canvases, with sparsely applied color in monochromatic fields, had begun to loosen up. Color combinations had become more complex and the applications of paint more fluid. By 1992 it had become clear that Nakazato had emerged as one of the greatest colorist of our time. His always impeccably structured works had become infused with a kind of sensuality through color that juxtaposed to its more cerebral aspects gave the paintings a unique sense of balance.
Indeed, Nakazato’s balance has been a recurring theme permeating all writing about his work. For Gene Baro this balance comes from what he calls a balanced unbalance calling into question what we see. Edward Fry traced this quality to the artist’s dialectical response to both modern American aesthetics and traditional Japanese forms transforming both into new versions of themselves. Sumiko Takeda notes Nakazato’s interest in and balancing of Western and Eastern philosophy.
The new paintings in this exhibition are a continuation of the artist’s “Line Outside Series,” begun in 1997. This extraordinary body of work continues to illustrate Nakazato’s power both as thinker and colorist. In a recent essay, on this series, critic Jerry Saltz likens the canvases to “an optical, intellectual rhapsody.” He goes on to say that “[this] series is a rhapsody to dual natures existing as one, to chaos and organization, to translucence, to porous, dusty color, to New York painting, to kimono, to the thoughtful and the decorative, to clouds and shadows of form, to air and earth and the ecstasy of painting.” It would seem that Nakazato might be closer than he thinks to a Sengai state of mind.
Sandra [Ericson] Ashford, art historian
The Far Side of the Line Outside
The semiotics of the primary shapes, the circle, the triangle, and the square, is a hackneyed cliche in the modernist vocabulary. It has been used repeatedly from the Russian Constructivists to the Bauhaus artists and recycled by the Post Modernists with its frequent visibility permeating into our daily lives.
Within the notion of artistic expression as a means to experience the unknown, these shapes would be an absolute taboo, and should never be seen on the space of the canvas. My reason for choosing the primary shapes as the painterly motif for the series entitled the “Line Outside” originates precisely from this viewpoint of ‘should not.’ Obviously, it imposes a limitation of conventions. Yet moreover, it delivers the sharpest statement concerning the perception of ‘imaging’ in this historical juncture of time, and at the same time sets a conceptual direction in the process of ‘making.’ In this paradox, my choice is to assume an aggressive practice of ‘imagemaking.’
The works in this exhibition are two-color paintings with foreground and background colors. The foreground/second color is painted in between the shapes, in reverse compared with the conventional process of painting. Thus, the configuration of the shapes emerge with the background, underneath the foreground color.
This foreground/background relationship is obviously not just a technical issue but perceptual, how we understand and place ourselves within society and the universe, encompassing all painterly issues over time. This specific process of painting between space/shapes is the conclusion of my argument. Painting to me provides the vehicle to questioning the how of making to the basis of our being, the fundamental quest for life. Another paradox here is that painting for me is the most avant garde today when the cutting edge of art is thought to exist outside of painting.
The notion of the three primary shapes was originally inspired by the works of Sengai (Zen monk/artist, 1750 – 1835) in which the three shapes were drawn in equal size horizontally in the center of the space. This image precedes the advent of modernism by a hundred years. It may have specific meaning within the context of esoteric Buddhism, yet it is historically an isolated occurrence. My understanding is that it expresses the artist’s level of enlightenment, in other words, the image manifests enlightenment itself.
The title of the series, “Line Outside,” is a homonym for Sengai which actually means ‘monk on a cliff.’ To me this implies a wealth of possibilities outside what may be ascertained as the norm, and to provide a line that would lead into a realm outside of the status quo. As I expressed in my statement for the Tokyo Gallery show in 1997:
My thought as I write this is that if I can reach the state of mind that Sengai was in when he drew the one large circle in the middle of the space with the inscription, “Eat this and drink tea.” I will have reached a state of sublime, free from constraint.
Hitoshi Nakazato, 1999
Ericson Gallery, Philadelphia