Pierrot and His Son 1970

Hiroyuki Tajima made this print called ‘Pierrot and His Son’ sometime in the mid-20th century. It’s got these two figures – Pierrot and his little one – rendered in blocks of olive green and brownish-gold, hugged by this decorative border. I can just imagine Tajima hunched over his materials, carefully layering inks onto the block. The texture looks almost like hammered metal. See how the shapes are not quite geometric, not quite organic? There's this tension that feels emotionally charged, like something is being held back. Pierrot’s eyes are like two glowing dots, and his son is tucked safely in his arms. The red curlicue suggests warmth, family bonds, a shared history. I think of other printmakers, like Munakata Shiko, another Japanese artist who was working at the same time and melding folk traditions with modern abstraction. They're both participating in this long, global conversation about what it means to be human, to create images, and to tell stories through art. It’s an ongoing process of exchange, inspiring each other across time and place, isn’t it?