Hawks by a Stream [left of a pair] c. mid 17th century

Editor: We're looking at "Hawks by a Stream," painted around the mid-17th century by Soga Nichokuan. It’s ink on paper, a landscape piece. The monochrome and flowing lines give it such a calm, almost meditative feeling. What stands out to you? Curator: Ah, yes. These hawks feel almost weightless, suspended in time as much as space. It’s funny, isn’t it? The Japanese artists would pour their hearts into landscapes, not to replicate the real world, but to express what it feels like to *be* in that world. To capture the invisible things like mood and essence. Nichokuan wasn’t just painting hawks, he was painting the very idea of freedom. Or maybe even the quiet ferocity humming beneath stillness. Do you feel it? Editor: I can definitely sense the freedom, the wide open sky. But you mentioned quiet ferocity – where do you see that? Curator: Look closer at the eyes of the upper hawk, that sharp, unwavering focus amid all the ethereal ink washes. It’s there, right? Nichokuan almost whispers it in… which then gets me thinking about the stream too – how a constant current wears down even the toughest rocks over time. Even predators bow to nature, in the end. Editor: That contrast makes the image a lot more dynamic! The quiet strength… Curator: It becomes a meditation not just on freedom, but acceptance too. Knowing our place. Powerful stuff for what appears, at first glance, just a delicate painting. Editor: Definitely changes my whole read of the artwork. It's not just tranquil; there is some fierce truth woven into the silk. Thank you.