In 1993, Hiseki Davey Sensei introduced a new program at the Sennin Foundation Center for Japanese Cultural Arts in California (http://www.senninfoundation.com/). Called Integrated Shodo & Meditation; it continues to this day, and you can read about this program in his books Brush Meditation: A Japanese Way to Mind & Body Harmony and The Japanese Way of the Artist (Stone Bridge Press).
For now, however, let’s examine the evolution of shodo and Japanese arts, as this makes the relationship between shodo and meditation more clear.
Japanese Art as a Way
Many Japanese art forms end in the term Do, which means the “Way” in the sense of a right and natural Way of living. Stemming from the Chinese idea of the Tao, or the “Way of the universe,” ancient Japanese culture spiritualized a number of everyday activities, allowing them to become moving meditation. Thus cha no yu (“tea ceremony”) became chado—the “Way of tea.” Likewise, budo equals the “martial Way,” shodo is the “Way of calligraphy,” and kado is the “Way of flower arrangement.” The designation Do indicates that these arts can help us realize deeper concentration, calmness, relaxation, and willpower in life. In short, the Do in shodo suggests that artists can move from the art of brush calligraphy to the art of living itself, and the same can be said for other Do forms.
Using “Do” to describe seemingly unrelated activities also indicates that these arts are based on connected principles. Many aesthetics of Japanese dance, for instance, are also found in sumi-e painting. The correct posture discovered in martial arts is also the right posture for brushing Japanese calligraphic art. And the calm and immovable spirit underlying one art of old Japan underlies them all.
Among the most vital of these ubiquitous concepts underlying Japanese art forms are universal principles focusing on coordination of mind and body. When such principles are internalized and understood, arts like shodo can be practiced as meditation, leading to calmness in action. More than this, these principles of mind and body unification can be applied to everyday experience to live well (as opposed to merely existing). When shodo is approached in this manner, it becomes not only dynamic meditation but also an exploration of what it means to live our very lives as art.
The Universal in the Particular
As noted, Japan has traditionally excelled (due in part to the predominance of Zen) in "spiritualizing" comparatively ordinary activities such as brush writing and the martial arts. One's ultimate aim in these Do forms is to perceive the whole of life through a particular enterprise or individual part of living. Master calligrapher, Zen adept, and founder of Muto Ryu swordsmanship, Yamaoka Tesshu, indicated that one of his main martial teachings was "the practice of unifying particulars and universals." He also wrote in his Notes on Kumitachi: "Within these varied techniques there is deep meaning. Cast off subject and object, function as one; abandon self and others, form a single sword." (John Stevens, The Sword of No-Sword, Boulder and London: Shambhala, 1984, p. 142.) D. T. Suzuki, author of numerous books on Zen and Japanese art, likewise made reference to "the One in the Many and the Many in the One."
We can consider a specific technique, or exercise to be copied, as a "particular." In shodo we do not copy a new character exclusively to learn to paint that symbol; and in sumi-e, we aren’t striving to make an accurate copy of bamboo or a bonfire solely to learn to paint these individual pictures. Contained within a given lesson or particular technique is the essence of all techniques. We imitate a particular form to grasp universal principles that allow the technique to work in the first place, and which will finally enable us to transcend the form itself to discover the formless. In doing so, it’s possible to observe that these principles encompass something greater than the individual art we’re studying and amount to lessons in living.
Shodo for the West
Shodo's Japanese aesthetics and universal principles serve to enhance the appreciation and understanding of other Japanese arts, and they can also impact how Western art is engaged in. Owing to this, shodo is making inroads into Western culture, and it’s because of the universal aspects of this art, some of which are detailed above, that Westerners are participating in shodo in growing numbers. Numerous Americans and Europeans are also drawn to shodo's "spiritual message," which is likewise universal in appeal.
Based on the number of teachers of other spiritual disciplines and Japanese arts found in shodo classes, it’s clear that anyone can utilize shodo for personal transformation, a transformation that can then be used in a specific art or calling. This, historically, has been a motivating factor for the gradual emergence of shodo in the West.
Calligraphy teaches us to realize a condition of comprehensive self-mastery. Western and Japanese practitioners of shodo cite expanded attention, improved peacefulness, stronger willpower, and deeper relaxation as just some advantages of their training. This is what inspires many Japanese devotees to partake in calligraphy instruction in the first place. Classes aren’t taken exclusively to better handwriting, as is regularly postulated; rather, Japanese students realize the personal gains that this spiritual discipline offers, advantages that make shodo tantalizing to many Westerners.
But how, historically speaking, did shodo find its way to the West? Americans appear to have first had contact with shodo and sumi-e, to any great degree, following WW II. American artists were searching beyond the limitations of their culture for motivation. Shodo, in general, served as inspiration to numerous Abstract Expressionist painters of the period. Coinciding with this was avant-garde interest, in the late 1940s and '50s, in Zen meditation. Beat poetry was also influenced by Zen and other forms of Buddhism—often as a reaction against materialism.
Abstract Expressionists, such as Franz Kline, frequently worked in black and white, having been affected by monochromatic shodo and minimalist aspects of Zen. At present, famed artists like Robert Motherwell, who has written of his lifelong interest in shodo, and Cleve Gray, are executing works reminiscent of Japanese calligraphy. Motherwell, in addition, produced a series of paintings entitled "Shem the Pen Man," in homage to an expert calligrapher. They feature a calligraphic ideograph suspended in a plot of color.
John Graham, author of System and Dialects of Art, has stressed spontaneous gesture and ecriture, a French word meaning "calligraphy." He suggested individualized ecriture should evoke innovation in a calligraphic fashion that made use of "accidents." Graham, in turn, discovered and influenced Jackson Pollack, Willem de Kooning, Lee Krasner, and David Smith—four of the greatest Abstract Expressionists, who all produced works reminiscent of Japanese calligraphy. Al Reinhardt as well, when he broke away from Cubism in the '40s, turned to shodo for inspiration.
This is natural, in that, shodo and ink painting contain elements ideally matched with Abstract Expressionism. Japanese artists and calligraphers noticed what was taking place in American art of the forties and fifties and were influenced by Abstract Expressionism. In 1951, noted artist Hasegawa Saburo wrote of Franz Kline's work and the fashion in which Asian art was altering Abstract Expressionism. This, along with other articles, began to effect Japanese calligraphers and painters, who started using abstract art for inspiration. In light of the above, it’s evident that contemporary shodo is a spontaneous creative gesture that has as much in common with Abstract Expressionism as it does with the written word.
Once explained, the parallels and historical links between Abstract Expressionism and shodo allow many Western people, who are interested in fine art, to more easily relate to Japanese calligraphy. And when such people further understand how shodo functions as self-realization and meditation, they often want to learn more about this art form.
This is because in shodo, unlike certain activities, one’s degree of mental power also becomes clearly and instantaneously seeable. Shodo makes the immaterial palpable via smooth and elegant monochromatic designs. A person’s character is laid open through the brush, which, though less efficient than a pencil, is a potent device for discovering the smallest wavering of mind or body. The pliant strands of hair in the fude, or “brush,” give birth to radiant, natural symbols, which surpass divisions in nationality. Given, then, the universal character of this ancient way of the brush, and because of its pragmatic advantages, it’s fairly clear why this art leapt from Japan only to land on the shores of 21st century Europe and North America.
Meditation and the Brush
While many Westerners can more easily appreciate shodo when they understand how it parallels abstract art, perhaps shodo’s greatest appeal for people outside of Japan lies in its practice as moving meditation. Because shodo deals with Japanese language, and because it’s not a household name in the West, some individuals are intimidated by the seeming “foreignness” of this age-old art. Yet meditation, and the enhancement of calmness and concentration that are its byproducts, has wide appeal. It’s the meditative aspect of Japanese calligraphy that the West seems to most easily identify with.
Meditation allows us to see, understand, and control the mind. As the result, it is ideally paired with shodo, an exacting discipline that requires exceptional concentration and self-control.
And while shodo can function as moving meditation, it’s easier to enter into meditation while sitting still. Thus, students can initially discover meditation sitting in repose, then learn to maintain the meditative state in motion through shodo, and finally sustain this condition of consciousness in everyday activities. Evolving from seated meditation to moving meditation in shodo equals a program for realizing calmness in action.
Meditation practice is clearly valuable to shodo and sumi-e students. That said, shodo and Japanese graphic arts also have much to offer practitioners of meditation.
Meditation involves the mind, but the actions of the mind are invisible. Fortunately the body reflects our mental state. Nervousness can be seen via a tapping foot, while calmness can be witnessed in posture and facial expressions. And whatever the body contacts also expresses the innermost workings of the mind. The way we drive a car or shut a door also reveals anger, composure, and other emotions.
For this reason, shodo experts have long held that calligraphy is an ink painting of the mind. It allows students to immediately see lapses in calmness and concentration. Lines of characters that veer off the page display a wandering mind, and wobbling lines evidence a nervous hand. All of this makes it easier to see into our true nature, a nature that’s only visible through the body. Since direct seeing into reality also lies at the heart of meditation, shodo is particularly useful to meditators.
The shodo-meditation connection isn’t new. It has been acknowledged in Japan, where Zen meditation and calligraphy have a lengthy association.
Zen and Shodo
When people hear about Integrated Shodo & Meditation, they often wonder if this program of instruction has a direct connection to Zen. It does not.
Still, it’s a logical question, in that Zen meditation does have a lengthy history of utilizing shodo as “applied Zen.” Zen is a well-respected school of Buddhism that was founded in the sixth century in India. Its founder was a monk named Bodhidharma (Daruma in Japanese). Shortly after founding Zen, he left for China around 520 A.D. In China, according to tradition, Daruma sat facing a wall for nine years until he achieved enlightenment.
The term Zen comes from the Chinese word Ch'an, a derivation of the Sanskrit Dhyana. The monks Eisai (1141-1215) and Dogen (1200-1253) introduced Zen into Japan from China. Japan’s military ruling class embraced it, and with its message of salvation through meditation, it made inroads into Japanese life. Zen's emphasis on being free from cerebral questioning, and attainment of oneness with the universe, influenced the Japanese cultural matrix, and many aesthetic qualities have a historical correlation to Zen.
Due to its influence in Japan, Zen has also affected Japanese arts such as the tea ceremony and shodo. For some time in Japan, Zen priests (and the public as well) have believed that calligraphy is a direct extension of the mind. Zen has always emphasized "Zen in daily life," in other words, relating the meditative state to everyday activities. As the result, Zen adepts have been expected to be capable of displaying enlightenment through brush writing. Indeed, a number of them, such as Hakuin and Yamaoka Tesshu, were outstanding calligraphers and painters.
Owing to this, Zensho (“Zen calligraphy”) has been valued by the Japanese public, despite the fact that while many Zen monks may be well-trained in Zen, this depth of training hasn’t always carried over into their artistic pursuits. (To put it bluntly, it’s a mistake to think that all art work produced by Zen priests is automatically high-caliber, even if it’s confidently and spontaneously executed.)
Zen, naturally, has influenced Japanese brush writing, like other aspects of Japanese culture, and there’s been some borrowing of terminology. Zen first came into prominence in the West following WWII, when it was embraced by the Beat Generation. Along with an interest in Zen, came an interest in Zen art, including Zen calligraphy. In short, Zen is intimately entangled with the history of shodo in Japan and America.
Nevertheless, it’s important to note that most schools of calligraphy don’t identify themselves as Zensho, and while the calligraphy in Art of Shodo may be derived from a source of inspiration similar to the "spirit of Zen," it isn’t Zensho. Though some overlap of terminology and ideas may be present, Integrated Shodo & Meditation does not deal with Zen Buddhism per se, but perhaps material in its curriculum can be said to be "imbued with Zen" in a broad and generic sense.
Shodo and Religion
If Zen meditation has long been associated with shodo, why create a new program of instruction like Integrated Shodo & Meditation? The reasons are several and simple.
Despite many English language books on Zen, and although the Western public displays interest in this topic, relatively few Americans and Europeans participate seriously in Zen. In other words, when comparing the number of Zen books sold with the much smaller number of people engaging in ongoing meditation for long hours in authentic Zendo (Zen meditation halls), there’s an obvious discrepancy.
Actually sitting in Zen meditation—as opposed to just reading about it—is hard; and people that undertake this sometimes arduous practice are definitely deserving of respect. Bona fide earnest Zen training—participated in year after year—isn’t easy. And it isn’t for everyone.
Likewise, Zen is a sect of Buddhism, an old and esteemed religion. While Buddhism holds great appeal for many Westerners, not everyone wants to adopt this religious practice. Some people participate in other religions, and other individuals prefer not to engage in any organized religion at all.
If the only means to enjoy the profits of both shodo and meditation is to join a particular religion, and spend countless hours sitting in the classical lotus position, the number of participants will be less than is potentially possible. Many people, who could benefit from a program combining meditation and calligraphy, may be left out.
