Art: NEW SHAPES IN OLD WOOD

WHEN U.S. Commodore M. C. Perry opened Japan to Western influence in 1853, he dealt a death blow in its own homeland to a waning but graceful and distinctively Japanese art—the woodblock print. But the clean, flat patterns of Japanese printers had a major influence on Western painters from Whistler to Matisse. A century later, the influence has been reversed. Japanese artists, freshly inspired by the works of European post-impressionists and abstractionists, are breathing new life into an old form.

The Heel of a Shoe. The woodprints that flourished in 17th-19th century Japan were called Ukiyo-e, meaning “Picture of the Passing World.” They were just that: pictures of solemn actors, sprightly geishas, idyllic landscapes. Japan’s modern wood-printers turned to semiabstract compositions, employ many techniques known to their forerunners; e.g., they often wet their paper to obtain a certain texture, but also experiment with leaves, string, the heel of a shoe to get special effects with an ingenuity Western printmakers have not displayed.

By breaking so sharply with the traditional print, Japan’s new wood-block artists have forfeited their traditional popularity at home. They had to await the coming of the American occupation to win acceptance, even now remain more popular abroad than at home. Putting a sampling of Japan’s best on display, Manhattan’s small Weyhe Gallery in two months sold 75 prints, 25 of them to museums and schools, last week was awaiting a fresh supply from Japan to restock its walls.

Among the best of Japan’s new print-makers is Tadashi Nakayama, 33, who switched from oils to woodprints only two years ago. Characteristically, he minimizes the realism of his dream-tossed horses (see color): “My real interest is not so much in horses as in the wind. I am fascinated by the way the wind can change the form of things—a flower, the hair of a girl, the mane of a horse.”

The Promise of Spring. Another in the top flight is tall, slender Hideo Hagiwara, 46, who worked as an army coolie during the war, began making wood blocks in 1953 when, hospitalized with TB, he was forbidden to paint in oils because they were too messy. Noted for soft tones, gentle composition, he describes his Snow: “It is melting snow with the promise of spring, and growing hope.”

The most popular of the moderns, Kiyoshi Saito, 52, has achieved a success almost worthy of the top Ukiyo-e artists. In 1955 he exhibited 67 of his pieces in the U.S., in a grand gesture gave them all to the University of Michigan. In debt, like most of his contemporaries, to Western influence and a Western audience, Saito lately visited ancient Kyoto to recapture special Japanese qualities he feels his works lack, ruefully muses: “We have lost our Japanese origins. I keep on going to Kyoto to try to rediscover them.” But to a Western eye, his origins are unmistakable and inimitable.