something in my eyes

many years ago i was read- ing a short story, follow the eagle, by william kotzwinkle, for about the 400th time. this is a story about a young native-american motorcycle rider and here it was, the middle-of-the-night, when i noticed for the very first time that the story was increasingly in the cadence of hiawatha! why had i never noticed before? well, this same phenomenon has happened again, but i'm going to string this out for a little longer as i wait to see if you can guess.

in his charming and perceptive essay seeing eye-to-eye with japan, taras a saks provides some fascinating differences he's observed between american and japanese cultures. for example, "In the book The Inscrutable Japanese, by Kagawa Hiroshi, the author notes that if Japanese children, when scolded, look their parents in the eye, they will be further reproached, “Why are you looking at me that way?” In contrast, if an American child looks down or away when chastised, he or she will most likely be ordered to “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

he continues, "Though in the US, for example, direct eye contact is seen in a positive light — denoting honesty, sincerity, self-confidence, and trustworthiness — in Japan it can be taken as proof of vanity, hubris, overconfidence, and rudeness"

in another column, selling dog training services successfully, the author instructs, "It’s important to take charge at the initial consult. Don’t be content to be left standing in the entryway while the client’s life swirls around you, politely waiting to be acknowledged. You’re a professional there to do professional work. They’re paying for your time and there’s a limited amount of it—it’s important to get right to work and set a tone of productivity. When the door opens, introduce yourself and shake hands while making good, solid eye contact. If the dog is present, compliment her and, if safe and appropriate, pet her. But then straighten back up, smile, and suggest, “Shall we sit at the kitchen table and get started?” Clients will feel more comfortable if you take the lead, and are much more likely to hire you if you seem competent and in control."

whether it's dog-training or vacuum cleaners, the rules are the same, as well as for for everything from laundry detergent to breakfast cereal: behave the way you would if you wanted to strike terror in the hearts in japan! in fact, can that be the underlying message in both cultures? i wonder if bullying is as much a problem in japan as it is here, where basic to our culture is the positive effect in a nation of salesmen turns us also into a nation of bullies.

and yes, surely you've noticed by now: after six years of doing this blog; after thirty years of being a student of japanese art, yesterday i noticed something for the very first time: they are never, ever, looking you in the eyes.

war, part 2

This is a letter written by Dean Memmen in 1918 from the front lines in France during World War I. The letter was written to his friend George Halfmann of Minonk. The letter was given to us by George Halfmann, Jr. Mr. Mennen died from wounds in action on October 4, 1919, at the age of 23 years.

Dear Fatty;

Well how is everything by this time? I suppose Illinois's club have started to give dances again. I suppose they will be some what tame affairs with so many of the fellows gone. Have you heard how the boys like the service? I suppose they think they are having a fine time. Did you win any money on the World Series? I won five francs and could have gotten more money up but lacked confidence in Sox.

The climate here is about same as home but it rains more here. It is a pretty country but of all scenery I have seen I will take that around the big red bridge west of town for mine. We have a fair camp here and the bunk house are all O.K. except roofs which they are fixing. A couple of nights I had to spread my poncho over me to keep from getting a shower bath, but things have improved since that. We have bunks something like railroad men have in cabooses only wider. Two men sleep in each.

I went up town on liberty the other night with a Chicago kid. We had a h-- of a time on 67 cents. I am going again tonite if I get paid. With money fellows owe me, I have 380 frances coming so don't expect to go broke again. I had two glasses of wine the other evening at 8 cents a glass. I don't think much of it. We also went to a licensed red light house (both being my first experiences) but I wouldn't have touched one of the things they call women for a years pay. Now my curiosity is satisfied. I am off such places for life. I will be a regular angel by the time I get home.

There are two Y.M.C.A. at this camp. I heard a fine sermon at one last Sunday. That was first sermon I had heard since some time in July. They sell most every thing in way of eats that we want for lunches except bread. One of the fellows said he never thought that he would be doing God's work by selling star tobacco on Sunday afternoon until now.

Suppose you are a bachelor again by this time as Peggy ought to be back to Oberlin by this time.

Write and let me know how things are going at home.

Your old Pal,
Dean Memmen 1

i can't help but to compare this war to today's occupation, and how we see the soldiers. they are (mostly young) people now as they are in all wars. we are not given images like these. we are hiring out their jobs and marginalizing their humanity.

this is memorial day. in this country it's supposed to be a day of gratitude and recognition to soldiers and their families. what will we have in the future? mercenary day? blackhawk day? i don't know. i just know i'll be here praying for a return to sanity, and the knowledge that on a day of remembrance it's humans who will be remembered.

play as haiku

liza's wonderful post about jello inspired my thinking, once again, about how artists, in the early part of the 20th century, brought illumination to the mundane -- the blurring of the line between fine and commercial art, as we have seen before as influenced by the japanese.

somehow i suddenly thought of the end of a play by thornton wilder:

From Our Town: Emily, a young mother who has died, has come back to earth for one day to spend time with her friends and family, who don't know she's there.

Emily: I can't. I can't go on. It goes so fast. We don't have time to look at one another. I didn't realize. So all that was going on and we never noticed. Take me back -- up the hill -- to my grave. But first, wait! One more look. Good-by; good-by, world; good-by, Grovers Corners. . . Mama and papa.

Good-by to clocks ticking. . . and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths. . . and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. (She looks toward the stage manager and asks abruptly through her tears) Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? -- every, every minute?

Stage Manager: No. (Pause) The saints and poets, maybe -- they do some.

Emily: I'm ready to go back.

it suddenly occurred to me that this was about consciousness, living in the moment -- in short, the teachings of buddhism.

"Opening in the first years of a new century, Our Town still speaks to us about the beauty and transience of life," says one critic. hmmm -- isn't that the essence of buddhist thought? the description of a haiku?

"Thornton Wilder, in his play, The Skin of Our Teeth, written in 1942, had one of his characters say this: 'My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it's on your plate -- that's my philosophy.'" and thich nhat hanh says, "Do not lose yourself in dispersion and in your surroundings. Practice mindful breathing to come back to what is happening in the present moment. Be in touch with what is wondrous, refreshing, and healing both inside and around you." he might as well just have come out and said ice cream.

wilder spent much of his childhood in china, and felt that japanese drama was a strong influence on his own, both in thought and in the minimalism of staging. he, along with the new poster artists, did one thing clearly: ennoble the everyday.

come spring

COME SPRING

The first warm days of spring, give them to me,
a tepid rain, crocus poking through last year's leaves.

Give me the heart of it, pale yellow, sky blue,
trees bare but for the hard buds, the few birds.

To hear the screen door
slam again.
To shoo the flies
from the house,
the spoiled fruit.

I'll take all of it,
Mother of Summer,
the smell
of manure shoveled
over the potatoes,
diesel fumes

from the refuse truck,
scent of creek bottom,
feral,
lime-laced,
cracked open
effusion of rotting eggs.

Even sinus infections
and rusty rake tines
sunk in rank earth
near the shed,
mushroom spores,

the asthmatic crank of winter-bound bikes,
fevers,
flu,
cold sores,
loose ends.
Even the crows,
hawking

their dull black cloaks
for the shiny wings
of iridescent spring.
Let them ride
the rippled air

over the barren Sunday parking lots,

the farther fields,
where the weeds will grow thorny,
wild and tall.

Dorianne Laux
copyright 2008

(today is exactly forty years to the day since i moved to california. it's my anniversary. and because she has put a spell on me so that i cannot see a rabbit without thinking of her, this is for karla.)

Happiest Vernal Equinox to Each of You.

Thank you for visiting this blog.

plakatstil & hand-lettering

in order to understand the evolution of japonisme into what was called plakatstil in germany (and which occurred, as a look, mainly in germany, england, and the united states), we need not think image, we need to think calligraphy.

we have seen the numerous art nouveau lettering styles that so closely imitated the japanese brush-made letters. the important thing was that, in the flurry of the industrial age, this stress on hand-lettering.

one of the first to take the hand- lettering beyond the purely japanese- brush look was toulouse- lautrec. his hand-lettering is a bit awkward at times (look at the 'd' in aristide's name) but always quite charming, and maintains the feel of the japanese calligraphy. there is just nothing hard-edged about it. an itc font has been created to honor it, and you've been looking at it at the top of this page for a year and a half now; it's called 'le petit trottin' after a sketch lautrec made of a trottin, a shop-girl.

note also in the lautrec posters the blocks of color, the flat surfaces, diagonal structures, and the asymmetry in their layouts -- all things we have compared with japanese prints in the past.



the next steps the hand- drawn characters took were to still less stylized but no less charming forms. credited as leading this movement were the beggarstaff brothers (the name william nicholson and james pryde took to do commercial work so as nobody would think they were not serious artistes).

while they still borrowed many of the design elements of the japanese prints, they took the lettering to its next step.





and following closely on their tails were edward penfield in the us, and the artists of plakatstil: german advertising posters which are said to have revolutionized advertising (while still richly inspired by the japanese).


among these were lucian bernhard (the instigator), ludwig hohlstein, paul schuerich, emil paul rumpf, julius gipkens, and many more. note additionally, of course, the use of outline, blocks of color, simplicity and solitary focus, and the diagonal lines of their inspiration.

otto heim codified the wonderful fonts, and in our own time, nick curtis has reinvigorated them. to me, they are the most charming fonts available.



why did the rest of europe never adopt this lettering? i'll let you know when i find out.