Lily and Butterflies 1912

This woodblock print, made by Ohara Koson, probably sometime in the early 20th century, uses a gorgeous palette of muted blues and greens, punctuated by the striking pink of the lily. It's like a masterclass in how to make a few colors sing. Now, what really gets me going is the texture. You can almost feel the grain of the wood in the paper, adding a tactile quality that contrasts with the delicacy of the butterflies. The way the pinks are stippled onto the lily petals! It’s so deliberate. It makes you want to examine it with a magnifying glass, tracing the artist’s every move. I am thinking about how this deliberate approach, almost like a dance with the material, turns into an image of such spontaneity and grace. Thinking about other artists of the time, I am reminded of the work of some of the French Impressionists, like Monet, who were similarly obsessed with capturing the fleeting beauty of nature. Yet, there's something uniquely Japanese about Koson's work, a certain stillness and refinement that sets it apart. It’s a reminder that art is a conversation, an ongoing exchange of ideas across cultures and time.