Hokusai with ink fingers.
Arlea| N° d'inventaire | 22141 |
| Format | 11 x 18 |
| Détails | 190 p., paperback. |
| Publication | Paris, 2013 |
| Etat | Nine |
| ISBN | 9782363080356 |
We know from countless tales and legends, as well as from the texts of classical Japanese literature, that Japan is a country inhabited by ghosts. The ghost of Hokusai (Japanese painter, 1760-1849) came, for this text, to haunt Bruno Smolarz, who wrote, from his dictation, and therefore in the first person, this unusual life of a man "mad about drawing." It was at the age of ninety that Hokusai only began to grasp the essence of the world. Through his brush, he relived his past, mixing his memories with reflections on art (the importance of nature and travel, the neglect of the nude, the charm of a curve, the discovery of blue and perspective in the West). On his time (his family, his peers and rivals, governments and famines), his memory is sometimes faithful, at times as rich in invention as his artistic imagination. The more he tells his story, the more death keeps its distance, perhaps even forgetting him, allowing him to continue painting until he achieves perfection. At least, that's what he hopes...
We know from countless tales and legends, as well as from the texts of classical Japanese literature, that Japan is a country inhabited by ghosts. The ghost of Hokusai (Japanese painter, 1760-1849) came, for this text, to haunt Bruno Smolarz, who wrote, from his dictation, and therefore in the first person, this unusual life of a man "mad about drawing." It was at the age of ninety that Hokusai only began to grasp the essence of the world. Through his brush, he relived his past, mixing his memories with reflections on art (the importance of nature and travel, the neglect of the nude, the charm of a curve, the discovery of blue and perspective in the West). On his time (his family, his peers and rivals, governments and famines), his memory is sometimes faithful, at times as rich in invention as his artistic imagination. The more he tells his story, the more death keeps its distance, perhaps even forgetting him, allowing him to continue painting until he achieves perfection. At least, that's what he hopes...