.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
The spiritual dimensions of Zen art and of Tesshu's calligraphy in particular are described by John Stevens:
Tesshu (1836-1888) was a layman who combined Zen enlightenment with family life, public service (he was Emperor Meiji's most trusted aide), and social welfare. Tesshu's output of Zen art is truly staggering--conservatively estimated at a million pieces. The primary reason for such astounding productivity was to raise money for the restoration of temples, for disaster victims, and other worthy causes.
During the last eight years of his life Tesshu averaged five hundred pieces of Zen art a day; if necessary he could turn out more than a thousand pieces in twenty-four hours (his record was 1,300). On those occasions when Tesshu needed to brush a large amount of calligraphy to be donated to charity, he would begin right after morning kendo training (Tesshu was one of Japan's greatest swordsmen). Five or six assistants would prepare the ink, set up the paper, dry the finished sheets, and so on, while Tesshu wielded the brush. Except for a few minutes' break to have a simple meal of rice and pickled plums, Tesshu would continue well past midnight. "Gather all things in heaven and earth in your brush and you will never tire," Tesshu told his disciples as they dropped, one by one, from exhaustion.
Although there was no charge for Tesshu's brushwork, most petitioners offered something, either a gift or money. Whenever Tesshu received a money envelope he placed it, unopened, in a special box. When a needy person or persons appeared, Tesshu would rummage through the box and pull out the necessary amount. The sale of Tesshu's Zen art raised a fortune for others but not a yen for himself.
Each time Tesshu brushed a piece, he would silently recite a Buddhist vow: "Sentient beings are innumerable, I vow to save them all." When an acquaintance commented, "You certainly have brushed a lot of pieces," Tesshu replied, "I've just begun. It will take a long time to reach thirty-five million"--the population of Japan at that time...
Looking at an example of Tesshu's calligraphy, we can see how the spirited brushwork seems to flow up and down the paper in an unbroken stream. It has a vitality that almost crackles with energy. Unlike many Zen artists, Tesshu was a master of technique as well as a spiritual giant, and his work is considered to be the finest Zen art of the modern era.
(From John Stevens and Alice Rae Yelen, Zenga: Brushstrokes of Enlightenment, exh. cat. [New Orleans: New Orleans Museum of Art, 1990], pp. 14-16).
Tesshu (1836-1888) was a layman who combined Zen enlightenment with family life, public service (he was Emperor Meiji's most trusted aide), and social welfare. Tesshu's output of Zen art is truly staggering--conservatively estimated at a million pieces. The primary reason for such astounding productivity was to raise money for the restoration of temples, for disaster victims, and other worthy causes.
During the last eight years of his life Tesshu averaged five hundred pieces of Zen art a day; if necessary he could turn out more than a thousand pieces in twenty-four hours (his record was 1,300). On those occasions when Tesshu needed to brush a large amount of calligraphy to be donated to charity, he would begin right after morning kendo training (Tesshu was one of Japan's greatest swordsmen). Five or six assistants would prepare the ink, set up the paper, dry the finished sheets, and so on, while Tesshu wielded the brush. Except for a few minutes' break to have a simple meal of rice and pickled plums, Tesshu would continue well past midnight. "Gather all things in heaven and earth in your brush and you will never tire," Tesshu told his disciples as they dropped, one by one, from exhaustion.
Although there was no charge for Tesshu's brushwork, most petitioners offered something, either a gift or money. Whenever Tesshu received a money envelope he placed it, unopened, in a special box. When a needy person or persons appeared, Tesshu would rummage through the box and pull out the necessary amount. The sale of Tesshu's Zen art raised a fortune for others but not a yen for himself.
Each time Tesshu brushed a piece, he would silently recite a Buddhist vow: "Sentient beings are innumerable, I vow to save them all." When an acquaintance commented, "You certainly have brushed a lot of pieces," Tesshu replied, "I've just begun. It will take a long time to reach thirty-five million"--the population of Japan at that time...
Looking at an example of Tesshu's calligraphy, we can see how the spirited brushwork seems to flow up and down the paper in an unbroken stream. It has a vitality that almost crackles with energy. Unlike many Zen artists, Tesshu was a master of technique as well as a spiritual giant, and his work is considered to be the finest Zen art of the modern era.
(From John Stevens and Alice Rae Yelen, Zenga: Brushstrokes of Enlightenment, exh. cat. [New Orleans: New Orleans Museum of Art, 1990], pp. 14-16).