Duizend grassen 1903 - 1906

This woodblock print called “Duizend Grassen” was made by Kamisaka Sekka, and looking at it, I'm immediately pulled in by the muted palette and the gentle rhythm of the birds scattered across the surface. I try to imagine Sekka in his studio, carefully carving each line into the woodblock, thinking through the negative space as much as the forms themselves. There's a meditative quality to this piece, a sense of quiet observation, but you know there is also the tension of carving versus not carving. The silver birds, almost ghost-like, seem to emerge from the ground, their wings frozen in mid-flight. How do you capture movement in a still image? The texture of the paper is just as important as the images. Sekka’s work reminds me of other artists who explore nature with such tenderness and intimacy, and who were equally immersed in process. We are all in an ongoing conversation, exchanging ideas across time. It reminds me of painting itself, an embodied expression that embraces ambiguity and uncertainty, allowing for multiple interpretations.