the zen of camerawork

Gratitude to Roy Money for his thoughtful offer to share his article Minor White and the Quest for Spirit here, knowing it would be of great interest to readers of this site, and also to Christine Cote, editor and publisher of Still Point Arts Quarterly where the article first appeared. This post is a teaser – you’ll have to click through to the page to read the whole article and view more of White’s photographs. You will not be disappointed!
 

Minor White - Empty Head, 1962

 

Minor White was one of the most influential photographers of the 20th century and he generated considerable controversy in his last years for the promotion of spirituality. I met him early in my introduction to photography and admired his work. I recently renewed my interest in him because of a developing involvement in Zen practice and efforts to explore spirituality in relation to my own photographs.

Minor was not only an important artist but also a teacher, editor and curator, and his language of spirit and spirituality came at a time when it had declining credibility in the art world. Though this language had a certain resonance within the wider cultural scene of the sixties it was an early and continuing theme for White that was no doubt stimulated by the challenge of living as a homosexual in an era before gay rights. Spirituality has long been associated with finding relief from the misfortunes and injustices of the social world, as well as finding purpose in the midst of uncertainty and doubt. Of course spirituality has also been an ageless source of inspiration for artists exploring the uncharted domains of human awareness and creativity.

Many people are unaware of the importance of spiritual and metaphysical issues in the development of modernist art. Indeed there was a reluctance of many artists to talk about this, for fear it would be misunderstood. Picasso is credited with saying “Something sacred, that’s it… We can’t say that… people would put a wrong interpretation on it. And yet it’s the nearest we can get to the truth.” (Lipsey) In that sense Minor White’s concern with spirituality was mostly notable because of ways he made an issue of it. […]

– Roy Money, Minor White and the Quest for Spirit

Continue reading …


Image: Photograph by Minor White, Empty Head, 1962
Sourced from the public domain.


Related pages and posts on this site:

John Daido Loori – let your subject find you

Minor White – equivalence: the perennial trend

Deborah Barlow – the daylighting has begun

Roy Money at the artisans’ gallery


the philosophy of presence

 

NGV - Bushido - Way of the Samurai

 

Bushido: Way of the Samurai

National Gallery of Victoria to November 4

Sadly I won’t view this exhibition as I live too many hundreds of kilometres away. But I’m prompted to share a post about it here after reading a review by Christopher Allen last weekend, in The Australian newspaper. I always enjoy Allen’s reviews; he fleshes out his essays with asides that I’m often not familiar with. I learn much from him.

Japanese art and artisanship is, however, a familiar and deeply loved topic for me, having had the good fortune to spend time studying in Japan and working with extraordinary artisans there. The young Christopher Allen also spent time in Japan, and while I’m not sure whether his understanding of Zen was formed in those early years, it’s a joy to read his wise summation in his review of this exhibition.

To read the entire review please click through to the page at The Australian


 

NGV-Samurai-sword

 

What bows, arrows, swords, calligraphy brushes and teacups have in common … is the philosophy of Zen Buddhism. The word Zen is the Japanese equivalent of the Chinese Chan, in its turn an adaptation of the Sanskrit Dhyana, which means meditation or the meditative state of mind. This variety of Buddhist thought in particular seems to have absorbed much from Taoism, which emphasises stillness, attentiveness and awareness of the life of the natural world, and is the deepest inspiration of classic Chinese painting and calligraphy.

Zen teaches presence above all, inviting us to be in the here and now rather than distracted by memories, anticipations, desires and fears. This state of presence is constantly available to us, yet it is not something that we can want or aspire to, since the very act of desiring separates us from being in the present moment: to look for enlightenment, as a famous Zen saying goes, is like looking for an ox when you are riding on it. We only need to stop wanting and desiring and we will find it.

This philosophy of presence does not require one to live a monastic life; it is rather the spirit one can bring to all aspects of daily life, and for that reason Zen was able to become the spiritual philosophy of the samurai. Its relevance to the art of the bow, for example, was the subject of a book by Eugen HerrigelZen in the Art of Archery, originally published in German in 1948. The secret is in the direction of attention and in the elimination of self-consciousness; the archer must forget himself and think only of the target.

The principle is not hard to understand. You obviously cannot meditate if you are thinking “I am meditating”; the meditation starts when self-consciousness stops. Similarly with almost any craft: a potter, a pianist, a painter or a writer has to forget themselves and be entirely in the act. It is the same with swordsmanship, which superseded archery as the quintessential samurai art of war.

The great swordsman, as Zen writers such as DT Suzuki explain, achieves a state of emptiness, of “no-mind”, which alone permits the rapidity of reaction and the accuracy necessary to preserve one’s life and defeat the opponent. The conscious mind is simply too slow: it would get in the way of action.

Many famous samurai stories are about swordsmanship, two of which are illustrated here: in a triptych of ukiyo-e sheets by Kuniyoshi, the 12-year-old Ushiwaka, a prodigy of the art, overcomes the master warrior-monk Benkei at the Gojo Bridge (1839). And once again in a set of three sheets by Utagawa Yoshitora, Night Attack of Kumasaka (1860), we see the young samurai Yoshitsume single-handedly fighting off a band of brutal thugs.

 

Utagawa YOSHITORA: Kumasaka's night attack on Ushiwaka-maru at the Akasaka Post-station in Mino Province

 

The serenity of his expression and the refinement of his youthful features are contrasted with the grotesque types of the bandits, as he parries an attack from their leader with his fan while beheading one of his henchmen. The ­attackers are in a blind intoxication of rage; ­Yoshitsume is in the stillness of no-mind, so that to him each blow is executed with the slow deliberation of a calligraphy master composing the characters of a poem.

Christopher Allen


Images courtesy of the NGV website.

Top – Upper portion of a suit of Samurai armour.

Middle – Samurai sword

Bottom – Utagawa YOSHITORA
Japanese active 1850s-1880s
Kumasaka’s night attack on Ushiwaka-maru at the
Akasaka Post-station in Mino Province

1860 Edo, Japan
colour woodblock (triptych)


Eugen Herrigel –  Zen in the Art of Archery


the radiance of things as they are

New at the artisans’ gallery – photographer Roy Money

 

Roy Money - Beech Interior

Beech Interior

 

One of the most revered figures in Zen is Eihei Dogen, a 13th century Japanese Zen master who wrote that “Seeing forms with the whole body and mind, hearing sounds with the whole body and mind, one understands them intimately.” How is it possible to notice the radiance of things as they are and convey something significant of that close encounter? Certainly acute attention and some moments of grace are a part of the process.

For some artists and philosophers nature exhibits a kind of intelligence – not mind in the conventional sense but in the systematic interaction and self regulation of differentiated parts – the mind of mountains and rivers and the body they inhabit, and the intricate complexity of their innumerable relations. A rather different kind of mind than the usual meaning of the word, but a kind that resonates with my sense of the world.

– Roy Money


website


Roy Money at the artisans’ gallery


related:

be not afraid of beauty

Milosz, Lawrence, Einstein and Adyashanti on nondual awareness

the dance of Me and Mu


the dance of Me and Mu

It feels like time for a nod to Frederick Franck, mentor supreme, whose book The Awakened Eye provided the impetus and the title for this blog and website.

 

Frederick Franck: Leaf

 

For to the awakened eye no thing remains a mere thing. It reveals itself to be, instead of an object, an EVENT in the timeless abyss of time, an event of unfathomable meaning that happens to take place more or less simultaneously with the event I call “Me”. In the language of Zen this state of no-thingness, of selflessness, is called Mu (literally it means “no”), in which I become an empty vessel, filled by what the eye sees.

I let [the things being drawn] flow through this Mu, let them precipitate themselves onto the paper, as if without any “thinking”, any interference on my part.

For these moments to happen I have lived sixty-some years.

– Frederick Franck, The Awakened Eye


image source

pacem in terris


waking up to wonder

the leaf’s budding and dying are my own!

homage to Frederick Franck

seeing/drawing as meditation

the Face of faces

Frederick Franck at the artisans’ gallery

the 10 commandments
(Frederick Franck’s guidelines for the creative life)


vale Daido, Roshi

Dharma Wheel

John Daido Loori, Roshi, has left us. He died on Friday morning.

Gratitude for this extraordinary being and all that he gave to us.

“Tears like falling petals …”

 

John Daido Loori, Roshi

 

Deep within wild flowers,
Partridges cry out.
Tears like falling petals
Blow in the Wind.
Eternally and Everlastingly,
It is Revealing Itself.
Above the Bare Branches,
Whistling at the Moon, Playing in the Clouds,
The Golden Phoenix Soars hand in hand with
Dharma Brother Daido.

Bernie Glassman

Source – Zen Peacemakers