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.

by the shores

fascination with the native americans, the indians, the indigenous peoples, began pretty much exactly the moment when europeans first hit the americas. and at the same time, not surprisingly, fear of them started too.

but there were waves of artistic inspiration which always followed fear. during one of these, in 1855, longfellow joined many existing native myths into one epic poem (a form he wished to revive), and came out with hiawatha.

the poem, which in my opinion is one of the most beautiful uses of the english language ever to have been written, is 22 chapters long, book-length -- much too long to post here. the entire work is here, though, and i shall try to find some passages so delectable your toes may curl. accompanied, of course, by another wave of artistic awe, at the time of japonisme, and its influences.

Downward through the evening twilight,
In the days that are forgotten,
In the unremembered ages,
From the full moon fell Nokomis,
Fell the beautiful Nokomis,
She a wife, but not a mother.

And Nokomis fell affrighted
Downward through the evening twilight,
On the Muskoday, the meadow,
On the prairie full of blossoms.
"See! a star falls!" said the people;
"From the sky a star is falling!"

There among the ferns and mosses,
There among the prairie lilies,
On the Muskoday, the meadow,
In the moonlight and the starlight,
Fair Nokomis bore a daughter.

And she called her name Wenonah,
As the first-born of her daughters.
And the daughter of Nokomis
Grew up like the prairie lilies,
Grew a tall and slender maiden,
With the beauty of the moonlight,
With the beauty of the starlight.

And the West-Wind came at evening,
Walking lightly o'er the prairie,
Whispering to the leaves and blossoms,
Bending low the flowers and grasses,
Found the beautiful Wenonah,
Lying there among the lilies,
Wooed her with his words of sweetness,
Wooed her with his soft caresses,
Till she bore a son in sorrow,
Bore a son of love and sorrow.

Thus was born my Hiawatha,
Thus was born the child of wonder.

•

There the wrinkled old Nokomis
Nursed the little Hiawatha,
Rocked him in his linden cradle,
Bedded soft in moss and rushes,
Safely bound with reindeer sinews;
Stilled his fretful wail by saying,
"Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!"
Lulled him into slumber, singing,
"Ewa-yea! my little owlet!
Who is this, that lights the wigwam?
With his great eyes lights the wigwam?
Ewa-yea! my little owlet!"

Many things Nokomis taught him
Of the stars that shine in heaven;
Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet,
Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses;
Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits,
Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs,
Flaring far away to northward
In the frosty nights of Winter;
Showed the broad white road in heaven,
Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows,
Running straight across the heavens,
Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows.

Then the little Hiawatha
Learned of every bird its language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How they built their nests in Summer,
Where they hid themselves in Winter,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens."

Of all beasts he learned the language,
Learned their names and all their secrets,
How the beavers built their lodges,
Where the squirrels hid their acorns,
How the reindeer ran so swiftly,
Why the rabbit was so timid,
Talked with them whene'er he met them,
Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers."

•

'In the land of the Dacotahs
Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter,
Minnehaha, Laughing Water,
Handsomest of all the women.
I will bring her to your wigwam,
She shall run upon your errands,

Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight,
Be the sunlight of my people!"

Still dissuading said Nokomis:
"Bring not to my lodge a stranger
From the land of the Dacotahs!
Very fierce are the Dacotahs,
Often is there war between us,
There are feuds yet unforgotten,
Wounds that ache and still may open!"

Laughing answered Hiawatha:
"For that reason, if no other,
Would I wed the fair Dacotah,
That our tribes might be united,
That old feuds might be forgotten,
And old wounds be healed forever!"

--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

countering the ornamentation, often juxtaposing it, was unadulterated color.

Toulouse-Lautrec was, however, the most innovative of the poster designers, with his Japonisme-inspired compositions (characterized by simplified figures and forms, planes of flat pure color and jolting diagonal lines), and his emphasis on subjects that had previously fallen outside the purview of fine art.1

show business, the ladies of the night and their fellows: ukiyo-e. this was the floating world. the use of calligraphy, hand-lettering, as a part of the design scheme, saw letter characters as art in themselves.

and the joy in color, in art and design as in clothing for the first time in centuries, is a joy in itself.

how very short a road it was then, on to modern art.