“Baby Powder” Takidaira Jiro, 1974
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. Read the rest of this entry »
This urge to defy being boxed-in manifested itself in the artwork. It takes fortitude and resolve to break with convention, and I’m happy to say that this Golden Owl and his sidekick have it. This is my goal for the coming year: to not be afraid to do my own thing, to soar above the heights previously achievable, to perch on the unperchable.
I hope you’re prepared for some seriously awkward acronyms today. If not, you might want to go grab another cup of your favorite caffeinated beverage and warm up with a few tongue twisters before attempting.
As promised here’s the finished piece, wherein BananaTail gives his pal Reena a boost up to grab a vine. 
In Japanese, the word for garden, 庭 (niwa; pronounced “knee-wa”) is also the word used for yard. If that’s the case, my garden is a three-foot by ten-foot concrete block surrounded by a sliver of dirt from which a plethora of weeds and mushrooms (and one magnificent tree-shrub) magically grow. I say magically because my garden basks in sunlight for, perhaps, fifteen minutes a day. Also magical is the fact that my clothes somehow dry back there. It truly defies scientific explanation. 
Remember way back when I posted about 
