Cut-Art By J. A. Christensen
I am currently teaching a class on Kiri-e (Japanese paper cutting) at the Minnesota Center for Book Arts. It is such a pleasure to slow down to the pace of paper, cutting one shape at a time. In its purest form, Kiri-e allows us to literally hold the tension between the dark and light aspects of our lives while focusing on the simple art of cutting paper.
In Kiri-e, it is essential to have both dark and light in order to create a work of art. Without contrast, it is impossible to see anything. For example, try to imagine a picture of a black bear in a cave at night or a white polar bear in a dazzling blizzard and you get the idea. Without contrast, an image is impossible to see, leaving us with just an intellectual concept rather than a work of art.
In the same way that contrast is essential to all of the arts, contrast is also the key to living authentically in this world. Experiencing fully the darks and lights of our lives can be a tremendous gift, allowing us to know what is really important. Contrast brings the essence of our lives to the foreground. When we embody both, rather than focusing only on the light or dark sides of life, we find a new kind of balance which is fully alive and healing for ourselves and those around us. The root of the word “to heal” means to become whole. By consciously embracing both the dark and light aspects of life, we become whole.
Another lesson Kiri-e teaches is how to slow down and really pay attention. Because we are constantly moving between dark and light shapes while making Kiri-e, it is very easy to get confused and lose the way if we try to move ahead too quickly. In order to create Kiri-e, it is essential to take things one step at a time. Through the practice of cutting one shape at at time, we learn through our senses of touch, sight and sound, as well as through our posture and body position how to slow down and be fully present. It also becomes clear very quickly that pushing through when we are tired or when we lose our focus can ruin an entire piece of work in an instant. These lessons are learned non-verbally, through the body. Later, if we stop to think about it, we may realize that through the act of cutting paper, one step at a time, we have come a little closer to who we really are in the process. As is said in Zen, “train the body and the mind will follow”.
Like many of the Japanese arts, Kiri-e, when practiced mindfully, can become a very satisfying means of growth and transformation. It’s also a really fun way to create satisfying works of art. I am delighted to have the opportunity to share this humble art form with my students at MCBA. I look forward to introducing more of the Japanese paper based arts into my classes in the future.
Living in the woodlands of Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin, I am inspired by the trees which surround me. My tree imagery depicts the Norway pines that border our front yard. My rock imagery was inspired by the man-made stone landmark or cairn called an inuksuk (plural inuksuit) used by the Inuit and other peoples of the Arctic region of North America for communication and directional aids.
The work in this show evoke the wide range of outdoor scenes we are blessed with here in Minnesota. With four full and varied seasons, I enjoy painting nature at any time of the year. I have tried to express each of the seasons: the angular, sharply delineated shadows of the spring, the warmth of the summer, the fuzzy lighting of the fall, the crisp chill of the winter. Water plays an important role in our outdoor life. Many of my paintings were done near a river, on a beach, overlooking a lake.
What kind of books are capable of holding dreams, memories and waking life reflections together in a way that is true to their original nature? How does the structure of a book affect the content within? Is it possible to embody images from dreams and memories in the book arts? These are just some of the questions I have focused on since I graduated from the human development program at St. Mary’s University of MN. For this exhibition, I will be pausing at midlife to reflect upon the journey thus far and create a new body of work which integrates my dreams, memories and reflections into a series of mixed media and altered books.
This Embodied Life 