Becoming the Great Wave

I was determined to discuss a watercolour today but my eyes don't seem to be as interested in the medium as usual so I had to settle for something else. This 'something else' is quite significant in the world of art and can also be seen in too many totally irrelevant places. 'The Great Wave off Kanagawa' by Hokusai is one of those classic Japanese prints that retains its uniqueness and power to this day.

I see it in the form of a regular postcard that is stuck on my wall beside a great number of postcards of equal size. Despite this uniformity, 'The Great Wave' dominates the eye because it is so dramatic and bold compared to the hazy Dutch landscapes and Michelangelo sketches that surround it. Even a vivid painting by Rubens cannot compete.

The only reasonable explanation for this would be its relative simplicity in terms of line, colour and composition compared to other works of art. Of course, if I were comparing it to works by Hiroshige - another great Japanese aritst - it would be a different matter since it is characteristic of most oriental art to prefer purity over complexity. The visual simplicity does not undermine the effect 'The Great Wave' has on the viewer and I would not hesitate in comparing it to similar disaster paintings by Turner or Gericault - near contemporaries of Hokusai.

The form of the 'great wave' itself has become iconic: the way it claws down at the helpless sailors below is monstrous in the most literal sense and we are reminded of Ruskin's ideas of pathetic fallacy - nature taking on human or animal form. Herbert Read is one critic who has gone so far as to suggest that we empathise not only with the human figures depicted, but also with the wave itself:

'If we look at this Japanese print, out attention might be taken by the men in the boats, and we should then feel sympathy for them in their danger; but contemplating the print as a work of art, our feelings are absorbed by the sweep of the enormous wave. We enter into its upswelling movement, we feel the tension between its heave and the force of gravity, and as the crest breaks into foam, we feel that we ourselves are stretching angry claws against the alien objects beneath us.'

Everything about this print seems to beg empathy which is why it has such a powerful effect on the viewer. The near-disguised Mount Fuji in the background suddenly becomes meek and vulnerable - thus embodying human emotion. Even the misty cloud-form in the pink sky seems to resemble a human figure soaring away from the scene. With one circular sweep, Hokusai leads us through each element of the print, from the human figure and up through the claws of the wave. We are then thrust into the sky along with the cloud-form and drop like sea-foam into the distant Mount Fuji. In a matter of seconds, the viewer is transported many miles through many different elements and are left feeling rather overwhelmed by the experience.

To have achieved so much with so little is sign of true greatness.