Having been so deeply embroiled within Europe's fine traditions, I've lately begun to synthesize my knowledge of Far Eastern art with our
current studies. The key to landscape painting of China and Japan,
especially pre-19th century, lies in its deceiving simplicity but also
its inherent complexity and lush personality. The painting appeared
not so simple as to confuse my perception of it, but instead, gave me
the clearest and upfront representation of a stream and its adorning
chrysanthemums. No true background lies in the frame, just
golden squares brightening the rest of the composition. There is an
odd depth to it which is not the "traditional" European kind which
points itself out and is wholly "realistic." But this depth works within
its composition and is not necessarily true to life, but is not strange
and alarming either. That is an admirable quality of this sort of art; it
can be perceived as having three dimensions to it or it can be seen
as two flat dimensions. This ambiguous nature as it shifts back and
forth lends itself to a "mysterious" or at least spiritual, even playful,
enigmatic identity. Everything hints at the photorealistic qualities of
each item present but lets the viewer fill in those gaps with their own
imaginations. What I truly appreciate about Ancient Eastern Art
stands in its non-condescending attitude towards the viewer; the art
speaks for itself without overtly shouting its meaning or over
populating its world with needless complications and copious
symbols. The art's heart and soul glitter like distant islands on the
sea and invites anyone to explore and dream within this
floating world I am presented with.
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