ART AND SIMPLICITY.
“Ability to live without furniture, without impedimenta, with the least possible amount of neat clothing, shows more than the advantage held by this Japanese race in the struggle of life; it shows also the real character of some weaknesses in our civilization. It forces reflection upon the useless multiplicity of our daily wants.” Kokoro, Lafcadio Hearn.
Looking over some colour prints from Japan, I have been much impressed by the extreme simplicity which characterizes the interiors of Japanese houses as depicted in them. Print after print shows us a room almost bare, the walls in some delicate brown or grey tint, with the wood framing exposed: this latter consists of bamboo cane or simple squared posts and beams, with now and then a door head slightly arched. For the elaborately ornamented screens and bric-à-brac which are associated with Japan one searches these prints in vain: the rooms are characterized by an almost complete absence of mere ornament. There is in one a single panel of the wall or screen adorned with a landscape very slightly suggested; in another a blind or hanging of some sort bears a text or painted floral decoration; or a vase standing on a slightly raised dais, holds a carefully arranged spray of flowers; or ajar on the centre of a wall displays a single peony or chrysanthemum exquisitely poised; but beyond this there is no ornamentation.
There is considerable variety in the shape of the rooms shown, none seemingly being just four-square. A complete absence of furniture characterizes them, and only such things as are actually being used find a place there. Yet the whole suggestion conveyed is one of refined and elegant life: the lady arranging flowers does not have the sprays from which she is to select on the floor by her, but on a beautifully lacquered tray; while all the utensils one sees represented, such as boxes, candle-sticks, tea-cups, or platters, are elegant in shape and colour and often much ornamented. They are quite obviously in the room for use however, not for ornament.
Judging from these prints, the refinement of Japan seems to result in no desire for beautiful ornaments or elaborate decorations, but rather in the demand that everything that is required for use shall be elegant or even highly ornamental. Their æstheticism evidently does not bring a craving to be always surrounded by innumerable articles of vertu, but rather a demand that such things as must come to their hands justified by their use, shall come also graced by beauty.
In contrast with the extreme simplicity of the rooms is a lavish display of bright colour and ornament on the dresses of the ladies, as they are represented chatting or working; this tells with wonderful effect against the soft grey or brown, or the pale green of the dried rush matting, which are the prevailing colours shown on the walls and floors.
Such rooms as these are obviously thought of mainly as the back-ground to the people and their life. There is evidently in the Japanese no lack of love for the beauty of Nature and of ornament; only there is a dignity which makes them demand a suitable setting for their lives; and a very rare refinement which teaches them to prefer the complete realization and enjoyment of the beauty of a few simple things, to the superficial appreciation of many elaborately beautiful ones; which leads them to spend their thought rather in showing to the best advantage the utmost beauty of one spray, than in finding places for a basketful of rare flowers.
How different is the common estimate of art and refinement here in the west. When we think of the elaborately upholstered houses of our ‘artistic circles,’ the people of taste—crowded as they are with costly decorations and ornaments; when we find that one of the most refined of our modern painters is in danger of being remembered as much for the gorgeous palace in which he lived as for the works of art he painted; what wonder if philosophers and moralists tell us that art is the enemy of simplicity, the fosterer of luxury!
If the love of art did really result in making more and more elaborate collections of beautiful things necessary to us, then indeed it would be the enemy not alone of simplicity but of liberty also. Then would it be but an added burden, still more terribly dividing those who work from those who enjoy, and further enslaving the one to the other; but another millstone hung about the neck of miserable man to keep him from rising above the slough of mere material wants and entanglements, in which he is already well-nigh engulfed. But the accumulation of beautiful things from all the ends of the earth is no sign that a deep love for art exists, and the admiration of them in itself is no sign of much refinement. Rather does this result from our utter lack of true art, from our complete inability to make the things we need beautiful. It is a sign too of our entire want of refinement that we are content to use such ugly things as we do make, if only we may have a few of the beautiful things that other people have made, to look at. Fancy a Greek carrying water in a galvanized iron pail, and thinking it artistic to put his pitcher on a bracket in his hall! The Greek required his pitchers for water carrying, and made them for that purpose, made them as comfortable and easy to carry as possible; and that his work in the making of them might be to him somewhat of an interest, he made them as beautiful as he could in form, and decorated them with suggestions of the things his mind loved to dwell upon. And so was art to him both a solace to labour and an expression of his interest in his work. And to the one who used the things made, what was it but a pure added joy in his life; suggesting to him the pleasure of that worker, and starting in his mind thoughts of gods or heroes on which he also liked to dwell. This is the origin of all true art, springing from some joy in the maker and giving to all who use the thing made some suggestion of this joy. Or it may be, in the higher branches, springing from some great thought demanding expression or great emotion yearning for sympathy, & in the beholder ever after stimulating something of that thought or emotion. Instead of being an added burden to men it may be an added joy; may gladden the hours of toil to the maker; and for the user may lift the every-day affairs of life out of the commonplace, satisfying his taste with the comeliness of all the implements he uses and cheering him with the beautiful suggestions of their ornament.