In Japan and across East Asia, exists an art form which uses kanji, Chinese-origin characters. This art, known as shodo or calligraphy, involves writing characters, appreciating the style of writing, and admiring its beauty. The artistry involved encompasses both the literary aspect of conveying the meaning of characters and the artistic aspect of their form and structure. While a single kanji character can convey a word's meaning, its appeal extends beyond the cultural sphere of kanji, intriguing people from other regions who might even adopt it for tattoos. In Japan, delinquent youths known as "Yankees" use kanji as rebuses to assert their identity, replacing the greeting phrase "yoroshiku" with characters with the same phonetic sounds, though with different meanings such as "night," "dew," "death," and "suffering," which they graffiti onto concrete walls. This juxtaposition between the inherent meaning of words and the meanings imbued by individual kanji characters, along with the tension between calligraphic strokes, creates a peculiar power and allure inherent in language.
The allure of kanji-based calligraphy lies in the written words and their style of writing. It is not merely a random sequence of words or vigorous strokes of a brush. It is the act of weaving words and characters into sentences. It is the richness of expression that arises when stringing together characters that each carry meaning, whether they are kanji, hiragana, or katakana. From this perspective, calligraphy can be seen as belonging to literature, as well as to visual arts when viewed from the perspective of the formative aspect of written characters. Indeed, it's the dual charm that constitutes the power of calligraphy.
However, modern visual arts have predominantly revolved around painting and sculpture, evolving within the framework of reproducing and abstracting visible objects. From the viewpoint of classical Western visual arts, it might require some logical leaps to consider calligraphy within that realm.
This debate emerged during the late 19th century, during a period of cultural categorization in Japan's modernization, when concepts of painting and sculpture were adapted, and the categorization of Japanese shoga (calligraphy and painting) occurred. This led to a debate between Western-style painter Koyama Shōtarō and philosopher Okakura Tenshin over whether calligraphy should be considered fine art. It was a debate of the era that still lacked a modern discourse on calligraphy, resulting in a consensus that, calligraphy was not fine art, and should be left behind as the thesis suggests, though ultimately remained on the fringe.
However, the situation today is somewhat different. With the increasing prevalence of contemporary art that avidly incorporates diverse forms of visual language, including conceptual art that strings together words or letters, as well as various interdisciplinary forms of art combining words with music or the body, calligraphy may relatively easily be regarded as art within this context. With this mindset, no one would be surprised to consider calligraphy as a form of art. Within this landscape, calligraphy could relatively easily be considered fine art. Rather, the challenge of calligraphy lies within itself. Calligraphy hesitates strangely before the realm of art.
Why does calligraphy not emerge at the forefront of visual arts?
Indeed, there was a chance for avant-garde calligraphy to emerge after the war and approach abstract painting, positioning itself as a global art form at one point. Also, with the spread of movable type printing, typography evolved, giving rise to innovative typographies that emerged to compete. Calligraphy also sought its own unique brushwork and typefaces while distancing itself from design. Arguably, there was a period when calligraphy had a contemporaneous relationship with abstract painting and design. However, why did it then regress and retreat inward, back to the past?
Now, after this lengthy preamble, there are calligraphers who boldly endeavored to position calligraphy as a contemporary art form. One such individual is Ishikawa Kyuyoh. Ishikawa Kyuyoh's approach concretely demonstrates how calligraphy has evolved within traditional kanji culture and its relevance to contemporary art through his works and discourse.
While critically examing post-war avant-garde calligraphy, Ishikawa Kyuyoh has explored a new path for calligraphy. Establishing calligraphy as a contemporary artistic activity, as he himself admits, was a lonely task.
Ishikawa Kyuyoh has not only created calligraphy works but has also written numerous critiques. The number of books he has published is also considerable, including representative works such as What kind of language is Japanese? (2015) , What kind of Art is Calligraphy?: The Aesthetics of Taction (1994), and Writing: Words, Script, Calligraphy (2009).
Even just by looking at the titles of these three books, one can understand the perspectives from which Ishikawa Kyuyoh has interpreted calligraphy. It seems as if he has built and propelled forward a world of calligraphy that has receded, seemingly in solitude. Moreover, these discourses are packed with keywords necessary for interpreting Ishikawa Kyuyoh's calligraphy.
Naturally, Japanese calligraphy is based on the Japanese language. In What is Japanese Language, Ishikawa Kyuyoh delves into the characteristics of the Japanese language. He gradually reveals the delicate structure of Japanese, composed of three scripts: kanji, hiragana, and katakana, and demonstrates the high dependence of Japanese on characters. Here, he shows that calligraphy is built upon the delicacy and expressive power of the Japanese language.
In his subsequent work,What is the Art of Calligraphy?: Aesthetics of Taction , he explains his interpretation of calligraphy. This is Ishikawa Kyuyoh's core viewpoint, that the essence of calligraphy lies in "筆蝕 (lit. brush erosion).” This is not merely about "筆触 (lit. brush touch),” [translation note: The character "蝕 (shoku) " originally has the meaning of "erosion," and is a unique term coined by Ishikawa Kyuyoh from the consonant sound of "触 (shoku)," which means "touch."] This keyword, which is a conceptual word that refers to the totality of the drama of paper, ink, and brush, has been given the English translation of "taction." And "taction" is consciously perceived and manifested after considering the evolution of kanji and its historical background. All the possibilities of calligraphy are contained where paper and brush meet. He said in an interview, "Thousands of hairs squirm like insect legs. The thousands of hairs of the brush, like the legs of insects, move across the paper, waiting to be carved”. “Just like how a voice makes the air vibrate, thousands of hairs subtly move. They move while in contact with the paper. Speed and depth are erosion. ‘Taction’ is infinite expansion." This is Ishikawa Kyuyoh's raw statement from an interview, expressing his unique perception and sensitivity to "taction," which is a crucial part of Ishikawa Kyuyoh's calligraphy, capturing moments of the creativity of a calligrapher not seen in critiques.
It is about magnifying the events happening at the tip of the brush. Contrary to the avant-garde calligraphy that turned "writing" into a full-body movement, Ishikawa Kyuyoh sees the drama of calligraphy in the subtle events that occur between the brush tip and the paper. For Ishikawa Kyuyoh, "writing" is in this microscopic world.
His consciousness is diametrically opposed to avant-garde calligraphy, which used large paper and brushes. Like using a microscope to enlarge the world, and the relatively small size of his works compared to the large-scale ones by other avant-garde calligraphers, Ishikawa Kyuyoh’s works are often desk-sized. These differences in magnification and scale are important to note.
In the final Writing: Words, Script, Calligraphy (2009), he sharpens his "taction" theory from his previous publication and boldly declares through the establishment of kaisho (block style writing) that "calligraphy is engraving by the brush." Why kaisho is important can be imagined from the following words: "Kaisho is the style of involvement between humans and written language.” It is a meeting place between gods and human words. “Kaisho is three-dimensional. The left side is thin, and the right side is thick. That's the depth. The lines drawn horizontally go up to the right. When writing the character 'sun (日),' the left side is short and the right side is long. Kaisho is where humans are participants. There is no human engagement until reisho (clerical script). From sosho (cursive script) onwards, humans start to get involved. Writing characters is like engraving. It is the shadow created where the stone is carved. That's the spatial element to calligraphy."
While there may be some linguistic leaps taken from the raw interview, the point is clear.
By considering the history of calligraphy and building Ishikawa Kyuyoh's unique perspective on calligraphy through styles and taction, he demonstrates his significance as a calligrapher living today, merging tradition with modernity. This interpretation is unique, and it reveals the core of Ishikawa Kyuyoh's calligraphic world.
Another important point is that calligraphy is an art of writing words. This may be Ishikawa Kyuyoh's unique critical stance against avant-garde calligraphy, which leaned towards single-character calligraphy. It's about writing texts, not just characters. It's about consciousness of writing words. Originally, the world where words are strung together seems to be a calligraphic space. Characters create words, and words expand the literary world.
"Calligraphy is literature. It's not the completed form of literature; calligraphy is the beginning of literature. Calligraphy is a style of writing. Calligraphy behaves like a painting. It also behaves like music, but calligraphy is the artistic expression of literature. Calligraphy is the imperfective form of literature."
This area is a bit difficult. Today, reading handwritten manuscripts directly is no longer common. Printing has become widespread, and we read typeset materials. Similarly, there are only a few people who still write manuscripts by hand. Writing has become a matter of selecting pre-determined font styles and typing on a keyboard. Expressions and manifestations born from handwriting have been removed. At least, it seems outdated to discuss such things. Writing has lost its physical activity. Writing words is no longer about engraving or thinking but merely about selecting fonts and typing. How many novelists or writers still obsess over writing style today? Writing style would have originated from handwriting. "Writing style" is what connects me to society.
The depth of thought and the process of socialization during the process of writing characters are becoming scarce. In the language assimilated into social media, the process of socializing through trial and error translating one's internal thought for mutual understanding is absent. The result is murmurs of private words. An almost irresponsible ignorance akin to graffiti in a restroom pervades, but it would be considered old-fashioned to say such things. The opportunity to confront society through words and to refine oneself has been lost.
Ishikawa Kyuyoh's calligraphy structure seems to be trying to bring back what has been cut off and lost in the changing times. The flow of the times is exactly the opposite. Words have become lighter, increasingly excluding the potential of human thought. "Writing" no longer involves engraving characters or thinking. Ishikawa Kyuyoh remains there, continuing to write words. He places calligraphy between history and himself, seeking to live within that space. That's what calligraphy is to him.
Ishikawa Kyuyoh calls this "taction" as the flesh of characters. The drama of taction created by the stylus creates the flesh of the characters. To Ishikawa, that is calligraphy.
Ishikawa Kyuyoh's concept of "taction" captures the unique events and drama created by paper, brush, and ink. Through this concept, he explores both the physical and spiritual aspects of calligraphy, giving new meaning to the structure and movement of characters. This goes beyond mere "brush touch." Furthermore, he positions calligraphy as the beginning of literature and explores the value of calligraphy as an art through its formative aspect. His works and thoughts concretely embody both the literary nature and the visual expression of calligraphy.
Ishikawa Kyuyoh's approach to calligraphy uniquely combines tradition and modernity demonstrating that calligraphy is not just a legacy of the past but also a valid form of contemporary expression. In this way, Ishikawa Kyuyoh redefines traditional concepts and explores new possibilities inherent in calligraphy, and emphasizes its importance in today’s artistic context.