Kaji Aso’s Dancing Crabs

crabs

dance crabs
under the full moon
until you become a skeleton

© Kaji Aso (1936-2006) (Japan)

Before discussing this haiga (art plus poetry), I will supply some biographical information about the artist and poet.

Kaji Aso was born in Tokyo, Japan in 1936. He received an BFA in Painting and MFA in Printmaking at the Tokyo University of Art. But he was not only an artist; he was also a teacher, singer, adventurer, poet, and philosopher. All those who speak of Kaji Aso use the words “renaissance man” to capture his many accomplishments and his boundless spirit.

In 1972, he founded the Kaji Aso Studio Institute for the Arts in Boston, MA. Here he brought together Japanese and western culture: visual art, music, poetry, philosophy, theater, and good food. He also designed and built the first Japanese teahouse in Boston, where he presided as tea master. For thirty-three years, Kaji Aso was also a professor at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. His art is part of the permanent collections of many museums around the world, including the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston; the National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo;  the Museum of Modern Art, NY; National Museum of Czechoslovakia;  the State Pushkin Museum, Moscow and Padua Museum of Fine Arts, Italy. Thirteen of his works are registered as Japanese National Properties.

As a talented tenor, Kaji Aso performed opera and Italian and Japanese songs. He ran in thirty-six Boston Marathons and led kayak expeditions down some of the longest rivers in the world including the Mississippi, the Nile, and the Volga.

Although haiku was just one of his many special gifts, Kaji Aso very often expressed the wisdom of his beliefs in haiku and did a lot of haiku illustrations. He organized and took an active part in many seminars and lectures about Japanese art, haiku, sumi painting and calligraphy. With countless awards and publications attributed to him, he can be rightly called a legend. [Adapted from The Living Haiku Anthology]

Commentary

In the art, we can notice the moon at the top, with the haiku written in an accented way to take in the haiku slowly. The crabs below the haiku are shown dancing by the dots below them. This type of painting is not exacting, but rather an approach is taken to capture the spirit of what is seen. This relates to wabi-sabi, allowing imperfections to be and seeing the beauty in them. Sumi art is more of a sketch of life, rather than an exact showcasing of it.

Though the art seems simple, we can get a poignant feeling from it. I perceive joy and austerity in the blots and lines of the ink. It gives off vibrations of spirituality, but also a pure simplicity that makes one joyful when viewing it.

The feeling the art exudes compliments the mood of the haiku. Though the art does not show the crabs as skeletons, it shows their dancing and allows us to feel the mysticism of the haiku more.

In terms of the haiku, each line is striking and wakes one up to the moment. Though the haiku can be taken literally, I believe it has a spiritual mood.

Crabs are a reference to different seasons, but most commonly, they reference summer. It would make sense that they would be dancing if it is summer.

The full moon has so much symbolism in Japan that it is hard to define it in a few short lines. But the full moon can mean complete enlightenment, the absolute truth, and even specific mystical beings. In the context of this haiku, I feel the full moon is in a sense luring the crabs into a mystical experience, and that the poet suggests the crabs to give up the attachment of their bodies. The poet recognizes the crabs as seekers of truth when they dance under the full moon, and is instructing the crabs as he would students of Zen or other forms of spiritual practices. There is no sense of division of the human and natural world in the mind of the poet.

We get a contrast of the full moon and the skeleton. This juxtaposition, though it seems obvious after a few readings, does not seem apparent quickly. This is because the starkness of the moment described is so strong, that the reader does not consider the aesthetic of it at first.

A masterful haiga by an enormously talented artist and poet.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

 

 

Momolu Freeman’s Guitar

summer breeze painting my old guitar

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Words and art © Momolu Freeman (USA)

I believe Freeman made the right decision to make this a one liner. When you have too few words, it is often better to make a haiku one line instead of two or three.

For example:

painting
my old guitar
summer breeze

or:

summer breeze
painting
my old guitar

or:

summer breeze
painting my old guitar

… seems to have less impact on the reader and does not look as appealing on the page.

The one line version also encourages readers to see the double meaning easier. It can be read as “summer breeze/painting my old guitar” or without a stop as “summer evening painting my old guitar.” The first one is a contrast/comparison, and the second one is implying the summer breeze is painting the old guitar, either by splashing paint unto the guitar with its force, or by staining the guitar with whatever is in the surroundings. It could also be metaphorical, as the wind could be painting the guitar in an unseen way, painting it with its currents and unseen shapes.

“Summer,” the seasonal reference or kigo, is that of romance, relaxation, joy, but also the burning sun which crumbles crops. This being paired with painting an old guitar is poignant. Indeed, in a summer breeze, we can feel something of memories and the renewal of those memories. Like painting an old guitar, a summer breeze brings many memories back of joy, but also maybe of sadness or reminiscence.

No season is black and white, especially in haiku. Though seasons have themes, each season has counterpoints we can be aware of.

The “r” sound in the haiku gives the effect of wind rustling through trees and maybe the guitar itself. The “i” sound in “painting” and “guitar” seems to give greater emphasis and maybe a sense of the toil in the process of painting a guitar.

The art gives an indication of the seriousness of the topic as well. The guitar appears to have been given African attributes, and points to African-American tradition in the blues and other music based on the guitar. Though America is a young country in relative terms, the ancient African heritage brought to America by way of slavery has had a profound impact on music, from blues, jazz, rock, funk, soul, disco, house, and much more.

This haiku might be less of pointing towards a personal experience, and more of a collective experience, how Africans are reclaiming their heritage and finding it through the strains and strands of history.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)

Brendon Kent’s Clouds

2016 - 1

Words and image © Brendon Kent (UK)

For the context of this haiga, or haiku and art combined, I should tell who Jane Reichhold was.

Jane Reichhold was a popular and key member of the haiku community. She was the editor of Lynx journal of haiku, tanka, and renga, and the owner of the site Aha Poetry, where a great amount of reading materials on haiku and related forms are held online. She wrote many famous books on haiku, such as Basho: The Complete Haiku, Writing and Enjoying Haiku: A Hands-on Guide, A Dictionary of Haiku, and many more influential books. She also was the recipient of the Museum of Haiku Literature Award [Tokyo] twice and the Merit Book Award twice.

It was announced that she passed away on August 5th, 2016. Many tribute haiku and articles were written for her, as she trained and influenced so many people through her essays and poetry. This haiku by Brendon Kent is a fine example of a tribute haiku for Jane.

This haiku has a clear juxtaposition and is written in a more traditional style, which I think is a prudent choice for the tone of a tribute. The poet is comparing drifting clouds to traveling from one dream to another. This juxtaposition is complemented by the image of the slightly blurred dragonfly in flight. In haiga, the image and text usually are not directly connected, but hint at each other. Brendon has done a superb job making this connection indirectly, creating a defined mood.

The use of the ellipsis shows a carrying on and delineates the two parts clearly. I think without the ellipsis, the meaning could change, and maybe Brendon wanted a more focused reading of his haiku.

I don’t know why exactly, but I feel emotional reading this haiku. It looks straightforward, but there is a definite emotion behind the words. Maybe it is the context or the solemnity with which the pacing of lines are written, but it charges me with emotion and maybe a sense of awe.

Let’s great back to the clouds. Clouds are high in the heavens, as you can say, and are an apt metaphor for Jane. She was a selfless person and committed to write poetry that uplifted people. The drifting, I believe, is a metaphor for passing into another life. The wind making the clouds drift could be a symbol for the universal spirit that is often expressed as wind in spiritual doctrines. Maybe the cloud is a symbol for Jane in the afterlife, soon to rain and bring about a new life of her own in a distant place.

The dream could be the illusion of life. Most spiritual traditions agree that we are not this body, emotions, or mind, but a pure spirit. It seems these lines are a kind of reassurance and a kind of detachment as well. This process of life and death are only transitions of the mundane, and maybe we all wake up to our spirit in between (though some say it is better to realize the spirit while living).

Or, the poet could be simply stating what happened to him. Maybe he took a nap on a forest walk, or on his backyard, and woke up to seeing drifting clouds after experiencing transitions to and from different dreams.

Haiku are usually objective reporting of what is happening, but can be seen as metaphors and symbols for much more. And knowing Brendon Kent’s work, he enjoys creating layers of meaning in his work, so it is probable that he wanted to portray both the spiritual and mundane.

On the level of sound, the “o” sound in “clouds,” “from,” “one,” “to,” and “another” create a wispy feeling for the reader, akin to clouds. It is great when the reading of a poem accurately reflects its content. The words without”o” are “drifting” and “dream,” which have alliteration and are both key words in the context of this haiku. Leaving these words as the only ones without an “o” sound makes them stand out more, which draws our attention to them more.

Though many fine tributes for Jane Reichhold have been written since her passing, this is one of the finest I have read. Wherever Jane may be now, I hope she is reading this tribute, and many others.

– Nicholas Klacsanzky (Ukraine)