The Asiatic Society of Japan

Once again we were delighted that our honorary patron, H.I.H. Princess Takamado, was able to attend our meeting, which this time was held in the very spacious and comfortable theatre of the Canadian Embassy. We had as our speaker Fr. Gaston Petit, OP, an internationally known artist, some of whose work was on exhibition in the Takamadonomiya Memorial Gallery adjoining the theatre. He took as his subject "The Influence of the Japanese Aesthetic on the Art of Gaston Petit".

The meeting opened with words of welcome addressed to Her Highness and the assembled company by H.E. the Canadian Ambassador, Mr. Joseph Caron, who then excused himself as he had to attend another engagement; however, Madame Caron was able to be with us for the whole evening. Our President Dr. Colegrove, then introduced the speaker, who began with an exposition of the Japanese aesthetic and its influence on his art, and then followed this with a PowerPoint presentation of representative examples of his work.

Fr. Petit began apologetically by saying that speaking to an audience of Japanese and long-term foreign residents about the Japanese aesthetic might be tantamount to speaking about igloos to Inuits, but he hoped that his analysis might throw a fresh light on the subject.

Westerners coming to Japan for the first time would be struck by all the things that were different from what they were used to. Daily objects were given a particular touch in terms of material, shape and colour; the ingenious arrangement of stones in a garden; the form and texture of pottery that appealed as much to the hand as to the eye; the multiform styles of writing in an advertising panel. The Japanese artist or craftsman looking at the material he was using - stone, clay, wood, fabric, metal - had a particular talent for imagining what he could do with it in a unique way, so different from that of his foreign counterpart. He thought through feeling - why was that? In a word Fr. Petit would say that nature in Japan with its great diversity of elements varying from Kyushu to Hokkaido was the crucible of the Japanese aesthetic. As Japan had had only sporadic contacts with the mainland, the Japanese craftsman had learnt how to take the most advantage of his resources. In the case of a tea bowl, for instance, it took intensive experience to fire the clay in such a way as to achieve the desired effect, pleasing both to hand and eye; each bowl became a unique object, at times almost sacred, as befitted an object handled with reverence at a tea ceremony.

Broadly speaking, there were three categories of material available. Firstly, the products of the soil: clay, which had been worked since Jomon times; hard stones, which had been used from early times to make ornaments such as magatama; metals mined from the earth, such as the bronze used for bells and mirrors in the Yayoi period, or the steel for the samurai sword. A second category was plants. Various kinds of plants were used for weaving or making dyes. Bamboo could be used both for utilitarian objects and for artistic products. Incredible varieties of paper were made from sources such as straw, reeds and the paper mulberry. And this was not to speak of the variety of woods. Finally, there were animal products, seashells, tortoise shells, leather, animal hair, bones, stags' horns, and, in particular, the silkworm.

Above all, the Japanese aesthetic has a sensuous element; it appeals to all five senses. In the realm of sight, there is a cult of nature. Mountains such as Fuji are reverenced; cults have developed around stones and trees of a special shape and around waterfalls; certain spaces in fields and forests are reserved to the gods. The eye also evaluates space. Space is of prime importance in flower arrangement and architecture, and is crucial in calligraphy; it also plays an important part in the arrangement of a dish of food.

When it comes to touch, we have already noted its importance in the case of a ceramic piece. Other objects, such as tatami mats, artefacts made of wood or bamboo, and textile fabrics are all appreciated because their textural essence is perceptible to the touch. In the case of sound, the source of the tones produced by Japanese musical instruments is often natural sounds while the instruments themselves are made of natural elements, wood for the flutes, animal skin and wood for the shamisen and the taiko drums.

Each country has its own special smells, and the characteristic Japanese odours emanate, perhaps, from its cooking: tempura, soba, daikon and takuan, and the particular perfume of sake drunk from a masu. The aroma of a fresh tatami mat is unforgettable, and the burning of rare woods produces its own distinctive perfume. Allied to smell is taste, and here a Japanese meal such as kaiseki ryôri appeals not only to the palate, with each ingredient having its own special texture, and also its distinctive smell, but also to the eye, through the varied shape of the dishes which bring out the form and colour of the ingredients. As a final note, one must not overlook the Japanese sensitivity to the change of season, reflected in former times in the changes of colours and patterns in clothing and tableware.

In concluding his introductory remarks, Fr. Petit noted that it was only a few years ago that he had become interested in Japanese aesthetics in the way that he had described; up to then he had not consciously analysed their influence on his art. He always considered creation as an evolving process, which left the way open to inspiration while working. In his work, the lives of the senses, the intellect and the emotions were all combined as a whole, and it was at that level that the influence of the Japanese aesthetic was reflected.

Fr. Petit then turned to his visual presentation, grouping his pictures under various headings. First he showed typical examples of Japanese art: the stones and trees in the Ginkakuji garden, a flower arrangement in a tokonoma, tea bowls. As examples of calligraphy he showed work done by his sensei, Nankoku Hidai, and then some of his own calligraphy on paper, followed by calligraphic designs. He then showed drawings he had executed by a felt pen on a blind; these had a calligraphic quality in that no stroke could be erased, and these were followed by drawings made on variously shaped objects: bags, boxes, eggs.

His next heading was interior decoration in churches, and here he showed stained glass windows for the church of St. Dominic in Shibuya, and stained glass and a mural in tiles for the Rakusei Chapel in Kyoto, both done in 1963. Other work he had done had been for Seisen University in Gotanda, the Rokko Church in Kobe, and, more recently, a reredos mural of the Last Supper for the Shiroyama Church in Nagasaki. Other work had been for the Jesus Kôjôkai in Asagaya and the Fukuyama Church in Hiroshima prefecture. Besides murals for churches, he has made one in aluminium for St. Mary's International School in Tokyo, and another for the fire station at Matsudo!

As examples of sculpture he showed a crucifix made in 1968; another cross was created out of a piece of driftwood. He had also executed some heads in terracotta. His prints numbered some 550, and had been shown at many exhibitions. There were several of Mt. Fuji, and one which he called "formation d'étrique". An interesting one called "My Country" showed Canadian maple leaf emblems morphing into the fleurs de lys of Quebec. He had also published an album Fenêtre with a poem by Paul-Henri Girard.

Among his other works were a great number of paintings, one series of 1962-63 being called Creation. Another entitled The Family Portrait took its theme from Degas' portrait of the Bellini family, which is a model of composition. A further one was The Saga of David, showing King David playing the harp, his anointing, and Bathsheba bathing (he had produced another picture of this last one 25 years later). Then there was the Opus series (1986), centred on squares and circles, and the Orange series (1987), based on two oranges, followed the next year by The Seasons. Another series of 1987, called Faithful to the Banner showed kimonos laid out flat to form crucifixes, with another figure in the middle representing the resurrection. In 1991 he had been shocked at the idea of calling one's mother o-fukuro, a bag, and this had challenged him to create many collages formed on paper shopping bags. Then there was Visages, a series of paintings of the same subject gradually changing from realistic to abstract; one was a portrait of his mother, and another a self-portrait. Fr. Petit emphasized the importance of the line in drawing, and in his preponderant abstract paintings he said that the line was created by the division between blocks of colour.

There followed a period of questions and answers:

Which kanji had been used for the seals in the exhibition? One of them was kami ('god') but they were drawn a very long time ago (45 years) so it was difficult to remember. Which had had the greater influence on Fr. Petit's art - Japanese or Western? The West is in Fr. Petit's blood. But living in Japan had enabled him to acquire a different dimension, for example, through learning Japanese calligraphy. This is drawn flat on the floor, which gives a different perspective. If he had not come to Japan, it is certain that his art would have been completely different. What does "formation d'étrique" mean? Really it's just a title. Another example of a title with no particular significance was the calligraphy of his sensei's that was called "64-4". Many of the titles are totally irrelevant; they are purely figurative.

The vote of thanks was given by Prof. Erich Berendt, a friend of Fr. Petit. Prof. Berendt said he was overwhelmed by Fr. Petit's versatility. His career in Japan had been extraordinary. Among his earliest claims to fame were his prints of the 1960s and 1970s which he had donated to the British Museum. His vision of life had come alive in this evening's presentation: its different forms and formats, the different media and textures. Prof. Berendt had visited Fr. Petit at his house in Champlain, Quebec, with its fabulous vista of the St. Lawrence River. Here he found him working on a piece of calligraphy and was astonished that he did not use a brush but a very unusual tool! The bag series demonstrated Fr. Petit's wicked sense of humour and in his work he often offered astute social commentary. They had first met in the Botanical Gardens in Montreal. Prof. Berendt and some friends had taken shelter from the rain in a pavilion next to the Japanese Garden. He was looking at a two-metre-high, lifesize poster of Fr. Petit and commenting to his friends that he had often heard about this famous artist in Japan. He felt a strange kind of frisson and upon turning around, found none other than Fr. Petit himself standing there in the pavilion! From that moment on they have been firm friends.

After Fr. Petit's presentation there was ample time to visit the gallery next door and linger over the exhibition to which he had given the name Éventail ('fan') because a Japanese fan had a wide variety of facets and significations.