Two Horses 1667 - 1699

Editor: So, this is "Two Horses," an ink painting on toned paper by Unkoku Tōtetsu, created sometime between 1667 and 1699. The horses look almost like they are emerging from a misty dream. It’s very evocative, but quite minimal. What do you see in this piece that I might be missing? Curator: Missing? Darling, you’ve already touched on the heart of it. It's not just about what’s there, but what isn't. Tōtetsu has used empty space brilliantly. He whispers "horses," and our imaginations roar. The sumi ink, it's so evocative isn't it? Like capturing movement with a breath, or maybe a haiku on horseback. Ever feel that? A kind of fleeting moment of inspiration, captured with brutal economy. What do you make of their interaction? Editor: They don't seem to be interacting, exactly. They seem more like independent… essences of horses. Maybe the artist wasn’t aiming for narrative? Curator: Exactly! Perhaps it's more about conveying the spirit, the very essence of “horse-ness” if you will, rather than any literal depiction. And note the simple verticality. In life the horses would move this way, but Tōtetsu frames them in a suggestive upward movement that lifts them beyond everyday experience. You can almost hear the echo of their hooves in the silence, right? Editor: I see what you mean! It makes me think of Zen koans now… hinting at a larger truth with minimal form. Thanks, this was very helpful. Curator: The pleasure was all mine, believe me. Art’s a bit like life, isn't it? You look one way, and think you understand it, but look again, from a different angle and you discover whole new depths of meaning!