But I’m breaking out of my frozen slumber for a celebration of all things papery and cut with はさみの音 (hasami no oto) – The Sound of Scissors. This will be the first all-切り絵 Cut Paper Show I’ve had the honor to join, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. We’re a diverse bunch with work ranging from children’s book style to more mature themes, from traditional to contemporary. The art is rich in color and shape and line. The theme this year is “Travel”, a subject wide-open in it’s possible interpretations. I’m excited to see the work everyone comes up with, and I urge everyone in the area to stop on by.

Here are the folks involved:

• 坂井高史（切り絵）
• 瀬尾やすこ（切り絵・銀粘土アクセサリー）
• タナベユミコ（切り絵・羊毛フェルト）/ Tanabe Yumiko (cut paper + felt)
• CHIKU（切り絵）/ CHIKU (cut paper)
• 藤野真由子（切り絵）/ Mayuko Fujino (cut paper)
• パトリック・ギャノン　/ Patrick Gannon (cut paper)

the details:

name: はさみの音 – The Sound of Scissors

greeting reception: TBA

dates: Thursday March 18 – Tuesday March 23, 2010 12pm-8pm

place: 〒180‐0004 東京都武蔵野市吉祥寺本町2‐2‐10 / Tokyo, Kichijoji Honmachi 2-2-10

access:（ＪＲ中央線　吉祥寺駅より徒歩４分）

tel: 0422-21-2177

gallery website: right here.
click image to enlarge

Not so long ago, I gave a brief PaperCutting workshop to the local Tokyo chapter of the SCBWI. It was a ton of fun to do, and I really enjoyed being able to show a little bit of what goes into the process of one of my cut paper images. Just as rewarding for me, though, was researching the history of the art form and some of its most talented practitioners.

I had always assumed that cut paper art in Japan had as long a history as the Chinese tradition (which dates back to…well, pretty much the day after they invented paper!). Shockingly, I was wrong. While paper cutouts had been used for centuries as stencils in the textile industry, mostly for creating exquisite kimono designs, it was not recognized as as art unto itself.

That changed with 滝平二郎 (Takidaira Jiro). Born in 1921, he grew up in the Japanese countryside on a farm. After returning from the war, he threw himself into artwork. His early work reminds me of Russian poster art of the time, with it’s strong, serious, proletariat farmers. As time went on, the paintings become sparser and more graphic, borrowing the strong and simple line of manga comics. Eventually, he segued into children’s book illustration, and this is where his work truly bloomed. Sometime in the 1960’s, Takidaira began to incorporate cut paper into his illustrations, laying it over backgrounds painted in watercolor and India ink. It’s fascinating to watch the progression of his work as he became more and more enamored of the paper and the cutting. In the 1970’s, we can see the amount of detail increasing until it fills the whole page with patterns of flora and the textures of Japanese life. Then, in the 80’s he cut the artwork back down to the basics, with wide swathes of black and simple, powerful compositions.

Despite the evolution in his work, one thing remained constant: the charming and nostalgic humanity that was at the center of nearly every image he created.

I, myself have been saying the same thing forever; “my paintings are always about my love of stories and people”. I seem to have committed myself to this “motto” and I realize the more often I am asked to explain it the more mundane my explanation becomes, but I have no idea how to break free from this cycle.
-Takidaira Jiro, “Worrying About My Worries” from Works

I, for one, am grateful that he never overcame his love of traditional Showa-era Japan or its people. With only a splash of color and a layer of paper, he portrayed an astonishing depth of soul and humanity.

Takidaira-様 passed away last year (2009). While I regret that I couldn’t have discovered him and his amazing work while he was still around, I was lucky to catch a retrospective of his work last month here in Tokyo. Seeing a lifetime’s worth of such work gathered together was both humbling and inspiring.

While researching his work, I stumbled over a Japanese website (since lost to the tangled strands of the Web) which claimed that Tadidaira coined the word “切り絵” (kirie, literally “cut picture”). In 1971. The same year I was born. Destiny, perhaps? In any case, I’m proud to be following in his papery tradition.

Lines and Colors is, in their own words, a blog about drawing, sketching, painting, comics, cartoons, webcomics, illustration, digital art, concept art, gallery art, artist tools and techniques, motion graphics, animation, sci-fi and fantasy illustration, paleo art, storyboards, matte painting, 3d graphics and anything else I find visually interesting. If it has lines and/or colors, it’s fair game.

I’ve been a fan for ages, and have bookmarked any number of inspirational and helpful articles posted about art, illustration, and web design. Here’s an ol’ favorite from about two years ago when I was re-jiggering my website.

Juxtapox Magazine should need no introduction. They have been championing and defining urban, low-brow, pop surrealist and underground art for over a decade and a half, and are currently the biggest art magazine in the US. It was through this magazine that I first came to know of this art movement (otherwise unavailable to an east-coast country kid), and been introduced to countless influential and inspirational creators. Their Reader Art section is a great way to experience new and upcoming artists.

Thanks guys! I appreciate the support!

Raijin and Fūjin have always struck me as the odd couple of the Japanese Shinto pantheon. Two ex-demons pressed into service by the powers-that-be, they are forced to work together despite their opposing personalities. If they are The Odd Couple, then Raijin is a moodier version of Felix. Focused, determined, ominous. He doesn’t have time for Fūjin’s playful, needy antics. Or does he? Is that the slightest sliver grin at the corner of his mouth as he dutifully ignores the looping breeze?

click here or the image to see Titans Clash

Raijin and Fūjin are fascinating and awesome (in the traditional sense of the word) as typically depicted raging through a storm. When I sat down to sketch this piece, that was my first approach as well. After a while, I started wondering how they spent the quiet hours between typhoons. What kind of relationship evolves between the people who spend all of their time together; coworkers, best friends, husbands and wives, Gods of thunder and wind.click here or the image for the big frame-up

For centuries, cut paper has had a place in storytelling and folk art traditions throughout the world. From intricate Chinese cutouts to Mexico’s Papel Picado to European silhouettes, papercutting has been a vibrant part of the craft life of many cultures. Cut paper became a popular technique with childrens’ book illustrators, valued for lively colors and versatility. Recently cut paper has received renewed attention from artists, merging modern creativity and thought with traditional techniques.


In this 90-minute workshop, cut paper artist/illustrator Patrick Gannon will conduct a brief tour of the history of Cut Paper art traditions throughout the world. Modern papercutting art from various artists and illustrators will be introduced. He’ll demonstrate some of his techniques for creating this fascinating and fun art form and lead participants in the creation of their own cut paper illustrations. Participants are encouraged to bring sketches, characters, or story ideas that can be used as a creative starting point for their illustrations.

And the details:

Time:  Friday, January 29, 2010, 7:00-8:30 p.m.
Place:  Tokyo Women’s Plaza, Conference Room 2
           5-53-67 Jingumae, Shibuya-ku, Tokyo
           (by the Children’s Castle and United Nations University)
For a map see www.scbwi.jp/map.htm
Fee:  SCBWI members 1,000 yen
         Non-members 1,500 yen
Reservations:  Contact info@scbwi.jp by January 28
Materials to Bring:  

• sketch pad or paper
• colored paper (optional)
• pencil or mechanical pencil
• eraser
• scissors
• glue or glue stick (optional)
• cutting mat (if you have one) or A4 to A3 size sheet(s) of thick cardboard
• NT design cutter / X-acto knife and blade (if you have one)

This event will be in English;
Japanese interpretation available on request.

Also of note, this is the first time I’ve ever posted a photo of myself on this blog. Try not to let it scare you off from the event.

Confined in a leathery sack, the wind swirls and gusts, waiting to be loosed as a gentle zephyr or a raging hurricane. The keeper of the wind is Fūjin 風神, one of the oldest of the Japanese Shinto gods. All along, I thought it was an amazing coincidence that Fūjin, along with Greek gods of the wind Boreas and Aeolus, carried the wind in a sack over his shoulder. If Wikipedia is to be believed, it is because the Japanese deity evolved from the Greek. Go figure.

Fūjin here is part of a diptych. You can probably guess who is featured on the left half. There’s a whole story to be revealed, both thematically and artistically, when the halves are placed side by side. For the moment though, I think I’ll keep things simple and let the old windbag speak for himself.

Each new year is a time of renewal, a clean slate where the previous year’s missteps have been scratched out to make way for hopes, plans, schemes and triumphs. Who better to lead us out of the dark than the fearsome tiger.

Of course, the trick with a beastie as temperamental and finicky as the tiger is to know whether it’s leading you into the light or pouncing on you from the inky shadows.

One year ago, I waxed and whined about how weird it was to use cut paper to mimic another medium (in direct opposition to my cardinal rule of paper cuttery). Well, I still feel a little awkward faking sumi-e, but I really liked the result so I decided to try it again. This time, I tried to take it even further, playing around with different shades of grey (and some truly cool new papers) for the bamboo. The tiger’s outside line also got nixed, playing up the natural camouflage /positive/negative aspect that makes this cat so cool.

Fun Fact: If I start making a piece before coming up with a title, I often nickname the art something I can remember. Usually something that makes me giggle. This one was called “TiggerTwo”, as in “Winnie the Pooh and…”.

Here’s the original, full-color From the Bamboo Forests of the Night. Let me know which one you like better!

(Oh, and here’re last year’s moo-cows: On the Mountain’s Top, A Forest of Green and The Simplicity of the Path, The Fortitude to Keep to It for comparison’s sake).

Blinded by cleverness into seeing only cleverness, undone by our own cunning.

The fox makes a great symbol, from Aesop on up ’til now. No other two-legger or four-legger embodies that same complicated and conflicted mix of clever, cunning, hunger, pride, independence and nobility. They serve beautifully as both hero and villain, sage and fool, in just about every culture. Look at Inari, Japanese god…or goddess of…well, just about everything. Plus, they just look awesome.

Like Words of Carrion Comfort, Vixen is a little bit of an experiment with shape and texture. Where I used mostly color combinations to try to bring out a softness in Carrion, here I combined that with a little bit of torn paper and some translucency.

Vixen (Inari) is also part of The Way of Flow running from December 4, 2009 – January 2, 2010 at C.A.V.E. Gallery, Venice, CA.

If there ever was an argument for spontaneous generation, it is the carrion-craving crow. The park near my home is infested with the big-beaked birds and they are eternally carrying out raids on the neighborhood garbage bags. But for all their ever-present…um, presence, I have yet to see a baby crow. As a boy I collected discarded robin’s eggs, without ever finding the slightest evidence that crows hatch. Instead, they seem to come into the world fully formed and filthy.

My theory is that dark and ominous thoughts float out of our heads and congeal in the upper atmosphere. There they take on feathery form before plummeting back down to earth to caw annoyingly and take part time jobs as evil omens.

I’ve been combining cut paper and wood for awhile now, and I really dig the way the natural textures and colors work together. Lately I’ve been thinking about using different shapes and kinds of wood. This is one of the first experiments in that vein. Something about the rounded shape of the wood felt feminine to me so I’ve been exploring ways to get a softer effect from the hard-edged paper, mostly by way of color combinations.

Carrion Comfort is part of The Way of Flow running from December 4, 2009 – January 2, 2010 at C.A.V.E. Gallery, Venice, CA.

The 2010 Cut Paper Art Calendar, featuring 12 of my favorite (and seasonally appropriate) works is now available. Made entirely of cut and torn paper (and often wood) in his studio in Tokyo, Patrick’s artwork is a collision of American and Japanese pop-culture, mythology and wonderous creatures amid a landscape of jagged edges and amazing textures.

And look, Lulu has this nifty new preview thingy! It might take a minute to load, but you can flip through all the art, including the brand new From the Bamboo Forests of the Night, just for 2010’s Year of the Tigger!