Copying Hokusai

Western art has been influenced by the East for centuries. At the end of the 19th century, European painters in particular were deeply affected by the new wide availability of Japanese woodblock prints, or ukiyo-e. That influence was deeply felt, for example, by post-impressionists like Gaugin and van Gogh. The impact of Japanese art and aesthetics was called Japonisme.

Hokusai, "Great Wave Off Kanagawa," woodblock print, ca. 1830

The master of ukiyo-e who became best-known, and even beloved in the West is Hokusai. His "Great Wave" (r) from a series called 36 View of Mount Fuji is instantly recognized worldwide and endlessly reproduced.

Over the decades, the culture and art of Japan have been a particular interest of my own. During years in the Air Force duty regularly took me to Japan, mostly Honshu, the island that is home to Tokyo, Kyoto, and much history. Besides art, the literature (haiku and Matsuo Basho, for example) and customs of the country have also been fascinating to me. Although Hokusai and a host of other masters of ukiyo-e have been known and even familiar to me, I hadn't spent much time analyzing their works.

Hokusai (and for that matter other masters) did not do their own woodblock cuts. That was done by a different master, based on drawings by Hokusai. This relatively little-known fact means that the prints are in some ways the work of two people; and Hokusai himself seems to have been dissatisfied with the work of the wood cutters more often than not, complaining in letters to his publishers. Still, these plus preliminary drawing are widely available, and the study of the master includes much preliminary work.

Hokusai, "Self portrait," 1839 ink

One of the inspiring characteristics that Hokusai embodied is dedication to the work. He spent hours and hours drawing, striving always for perfection of line and beauty. Although he lived to be nearly ninety, he professed to only be learning how to draw when in his eighties.

For a long while much of Hokusai's drawing was difficult to find and less well-known than his more important print series like those of Fuji. But in the early 1950s James Michener published a wonderful compilation of the master (available but scarce) based on his own taste and research. The books that were published by Hokusai are called Hokusai Manga (Hokusai's Sketches). Based on volumes of drawings by the master published in Japan between 1814 and 1878, the Michener book is a great way to become acquainted with the work of Hokusai, but distill the thousands of drawings into a few hundred. For most western readers, that's probably fine. The Manga are books of drawings of Japanese daily life, animals, landscapes, and even erotica. The last few were published after Hokusai's death and are less valued, but the rest were best-selling throughout Japan immediately as they were published, making Hokusai quite famous.

For an artist who is interested in the drawings, copying them is an interesting exercise. Although appreciative of his work, I'd never done any copying of Hokusai, mostly because it is so different from my own. However, here are a few copies of Hokusai's drawings, from some published in the Michener book. What one immediately sees is the economy of the master. His lines summarize the figures and gestures beautifully. Here I copied two figures in the broad hats of his times, one dashing along with hands holding his cloak shut, the other shuffling under a loaded yoke. Hokusai tinted these woodblocks with only three colors, grey, black, and pink, but it in these images it is the lines that make the picture.

Hokusai not only studied the lives of the common people of Japan, he enjoyed making images of sumo wrestlers either in the ring or relaxing. This wrestler is resting, possibly after a match, and fanning himself. This figure, like the one above, was done digitally using Sketchbook and a Wacom tablet. I was interested in the drawings more than the tinted woodblocks, seeking to emulate the master's economical line.

In the ultimate of cheekiness, here's my copy of Hokusai's self portrait, posted above. I omitted the facial features, focusing instead on the way he rendered the sinuousness of his old-man frame. The folds and draping of the figure are cues to gesture and proportion. This drawing is actually quite small, perhaps not more than 4-5 inches if printed in real dimensions. Perhaps it would be instructive to look for a print done in the original dimensions.

For those who find Asian art and culture engaging, try looking at Hokusai's drawings. You just might love them as much as me.