by Giovanni Spezzacatena

The only-just-becoming and the passing-away. These two opposing ideas describe the aesthetic of wabi-sabi. The Japanese words “wabi” and “sabi” are difficult to define precisely, because they refer to that which is elusive, personal and subtle. This is where Zen Buddhist philosophy shines through, as in the famous saying by Rinzai Gengen in the 9th Century: “When you meet the Buddha, kill him.” All meaning lies within—mistrust authority in favour of self-defined truth.

Wabi-sabi openly romanticizes the parts of nature that are usually overlooked—the awkward, fleeting, unformed shapes and colors of early spring, and the murky corrosion and earthiness of autumn. These two extremes form much of the traditional Japanese aesthetic sense that evokes certain melancholia, where the natural world and seasons are seen as symbolically reflecting the inescapable stages of life.

The wabi-sabi aesthetic can occur in any art form, whether Zen poetry or haiku, design, pottery, or paintings and architecture. It can be functional, representational or completely abstract. Wabi-sabi is not about an artist’s use of materials, tools or even the employment of a ‘style’—it is a mindset. Wabi-sabi values natural products, textures, and irregularities, again evoking Zen philosophy where these imperfections point to a deeper truth, and encourage contemplation.

Leonard Koren, in his book Wabi-sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers, pits the wabi-sabi aesthetic against what he sees as its opposite: High Modernism, with its use of pure, flat, bright colors, perfect simple geometrical shapes, machine-like precision and anonymity. Instead, works in the wabi-sabi tradition focus on individual, small, insignificant details, and in subtle and roundabout ways that call for the viewer’s contemplation.

It’s interesting that this aesthetic is currently undergoing resurgence, in an age where mechanical reproduction is standard, and as a reaction to some of the slick, artificial, and cynical Modern and Post-Modern arts. Some people are looking for art through natural objects that can expose a unique and changing character: the table with its thick grain, the paint peeling off to reveal layers beneath, the metal sculpture oxidizing, the obscured, just barely intelligible image. All evoke time passing, and by that token, the richness and impermanence of life itself.

Giovanni (Gian) Spezzacatena is a mixed-media artist residing in Powell River, after having lived in Montreal and Seattle. He traveled to Japan in 2006 at the end of a year-long journey. Gian is part of the 3rd annual Powell River Studio Tour (Aug. 25-26), as web designer and participant (www.powellriverstudiotour.com); his own website is www.rabideye.com.