Sharp chic and vernal

東風解凍

Harukaze kori o toku - The thaw of the spring breezes

I wasn't on form this evening. Fifty minutes and sheet after sheet of  "the thaw of the spring breezes," "the thaw of the spring breezes," and it all felt rather flat

Yet today felt like the first day of spring. For the first time this year, I wore my cotton beret to work instead of my woolly ski cap, and even stowed my sweater in my bag for the trip back home.

Perhaps that new mildness, however welcome, dulled my edge this evening. My homework is the poetic phrase I quoted above, "the thaw of spring breezes" and what better day than today, I thought, to get it looking good. But beside my teacher's work: sharp, chic and with a real "spring" in its step, my best efforts looked blunt, slumped and ready for bed.

There are many qualities crucial to good calligraphy: balance within and between characters, elegance, verve, imagination, variation of touch, to name a few, but before any of this comes the execution of the stroke.  It's like being a good speaker: you have to have something to say, know how to illustrate it, color it, and make it come alive for people - but first you need vocabulary and diction.

My teacher's version

The shodo at the top of this page is mine. The one right here is my teacher's. Take a look, for example, at the top right character, higashi (東, "east") (although in the idiom of this particular poem it is pronounced haru, or "spring"), and observe the bottom of the central vertical line.

My teacher's stroke tapers to a needle point, and converging on that point is a clean curve to the right and a razor-sharp line to the left. Then have a look at mine at the top of the page. You couldn't sew with mine! And the curve has a chip out it, and there is no line to the left - just another chipped curve.

It is in details like these that the finesse of an experienced and skilled calligrapher is apparent. It's the calligraphic equivalent of using the right word, of pronouncing it properly, and not mumbling.

There are a lot of people who call themselves artists on the strength of how passionate, imaginative, dedicated, well-versed, serious or spiritual they are. These qualities, for sure, are marks of a true artist, but I believe the ultimate yardstick, at least of seriousness, passion and dedication, is how perfect a mastery you have achieved of the fine points first.