Imagine Japan three hundred years ago – isolated islands where life moved to the quiet rhythm imposed by the strict rules of the Tokugawa shogunate. In the bustling, crowded streets of old Kyoto, a young son of a vegetable wholesaler, Itō Jakuchū, begins to observe the world around him with remarkable intensity. Instead of following conventions, he immerses himself in an explosion of colors and forms – painting animals, birds, and plants, as if trying to capture their inner essence, to reach the very core of each duck’s or chicken’s being.
Jakuchū’s connection with Zen and his upbringing in a culture that valued the concept of mono no aware made him see the world in terms of fleeting beauty and the eternal cycle of nature. Today, let’s look at his work Whale and Elephant – a monumental painting in which a black whale cuts through the ocean waves while a white elephant sits majestically on the shore. This painting not only shows the contrast of two very different forms of life but also seems to impart a lesson on two opposing forces: chaos and tranquility – the unknown, emotional depths and the stable, logical earth. It’s more than just a depiction of animals – it’s a philosophical meditation on the duality of the world, on what is hidden beneath the surface and what lies in plain sight but often goes unnoticed.
Over the years, Jakuchū became an icon of artistic madness in the Edo period, an eccentric who wasn’t afraid to break the rules. When his birds on silk began to dance in a swirl of colors and abstraction, critics spoke of him as a “strange” painter, “detached from reality.” But it was precisely in this difference that his strength lay. Thanks to his extraordinary talent and philosophical approach to art, Jakuchū created something more than just paintings – in his works, we discover a vision of the world balancing between dream and reality, perfection and elusiveness. And his incredible use of color has made his work experience a renaissance today – from Instagram to international exhibitions. So, let’s explore his history, for he was indeed a fascinating man.
Imagine Japan during the Edo period (1603–1867) – a world sealed under a dome of silence and mystery, with practically no movement across its borders – perhaps a few Chinese monks on pilgrimage. Under the rule of the Tokugawa shogunate, the country was as if alone in the world. It was also like a precisely oiled mechanism, where each layer of society had its strictly defined place. At the top of this hierarchy was the shogun, ruling from a distance, and below him were the high-ranking samurai, the guardians of law and order. In the cities, merchants and craftsmen built their fortunes, while at the bottom of the pyramid were the farmers, inseparable from the land that fed the entire society. This complex yet harmonious structure was the foundation upon which everyday life was built and also... a remarkable culture.
In the shadow of this iron hierarchy, in the bustling cities of Edo, Kyoto, and Osaka, centers of commerce, craftsmanship, and art developed. The streets were full of stalls offering silk, ceramics, and finely crafted items. The sounds of marketplaces echoed from all sides, small temple bells chimed, and the air was filled with the scent of green tea and freshly baked mochi. But it wasn’t just a time of commercial prosperity. It was also an era of flourishing art and literature, where Kabuki theater and ukiyo-e – images of the “floating world” – became some of the most important forms of artistic expression. It was a period where ancient techniques mingled with new trends, creating a unique cultural heritage.
Initially, the art of the Edo period was tightly controlled, inspired by classical models and restricted by strict rules. Painting, like everything else, had its rigid frameworks that defined what was acceptable. But as cities grew wealthier and the merchant class expanded, art began to change as well. Artists slowly moved away from clinging to tradition and sought new forms of expression. A quiet artistic revolution began, in which creators gradually gained more freedom in shaping their world on canvas. It was a time when aesthetics gave way to experimentation.
In this tension-filled era, eccentrics were born – artists who dared to break conventions, introduce chaos into an orderly reality, and create works that were both beautiful and unsettling. These were the ones who boldly broke free from the rigid norms, transcending traditional styles, experimenting with form, color, and perspective. It was during this time that the talents of painters like Itō Jakuchū, Soga Shōhaku, and Nagasawa Rosetsu emerged – creators who, as they said, balanced on the edge of genius and madness. They were called the "Three Eccentrics of Edo."
The first of the Edo eccentrics is Soga Shōhaku – known for his wildness and extraordinary energy. His compositions were often filled with dramatic, almost frenetic figures, inspired by Chinese sages and legends. His style was extremely expressive, full of intense, almost chaotic details. Shōhaku’s paintings were like visual storms – untamed, passionate, as if each line held a force that was difficult to restrain.
Utagawa Kuniyoshi, the second eccentric, was a master of macabre and grotesque woodblock prints that often attracted attention with their oddness and fantasy. His work had not only a tremendous impact on the development of ukiyo-e but also on future forms of popular Japanese visual culture, such as manga. Kuniyoshi’s powerful, colorful compositions, full of strange creatures, spirits, and fantastic heroes, depicted the unthinkable, creating art that continues to fascinate.
The third eccentric was Itō Jakuchū, whom we will explore today. His work, marked by an obsessive fascination with nature and deeply influenced by Zen philosophy, was distinguished by its extraordinary precision and wealth of detail, creating a unique blend of reality and abstraction. It was Jakuchū, fully devoted to his vision, who changed the way art was perceived in the Edo period.
Itō Jakuchū was born in 1716 in Kyoto, into a family of vegetable wholesalers. His home was at the heart of the bustling commercial world, in Nishiki, known as "Kyoto’s kitchen." The world around him was full of colors, scents, and constantly changing life. From a young age, Jakuchū was fascinated by nature. Every day, he observed the variety of vegetables and fruits sold in the family business, paying attention to rare plants and animals that occasionally appeared at the market.
Young Jakuchū began drawing early on. He exhibited an insatiable curiosity about the world. Instead of following classical themes like other artists, he sought to portray what he saw around him – life in its most complex, unrestrained form. He painted animals and plants with such devotion, as if he were trying to capture their very essence. Yet it wasn’t just simple replication – his works began to take on fantastic, even surreal dimensions. In his painted gardens, chickens walked freely, which he depicted in endless variations, trying to capture every detail of their feathers, movements, and character.
Jakuchū was self-taught, and his thirst for learning knew no bounds. Although he did not study under great masters, he found inspiration in copies of Buddhist paintings and Chinese works available in Kyoto’s temples. He spent long hours observing and copying these works, learning the techniques of the masters while also experimenting on his own. His style evolved at a pace that no one could have predicted – Jakuchū was unafraid to take risks and try new approaches to composition, color, and painting techniques. It was these experiments that made him one of the most original artists of his time.
At the age of 23, his life took a dramatic turn. Jakuchū’s father died unexpectedly, and the responsibility of running the family business fell to the young artist. For many years, he tried to juggle both worlds – the daily management of the wholesale business and his passion for painting. However, the longer this double life continued, the more he felt that his true calling was art. In 1755, at the age of 40, Jakuchū made a decision that finally changed his life. He handed over the business to his younger brother and fully dedicated himself to painting.
Now, free from family obligations, Jakuchū could fully immerse himself in his artistic vision. In his works, nature became something more than just a subject – it was a spiritual experience, a mystical representation of ephemeral reality. An example of this fascination is his monumental series Dōshoku Sai-e (The Colorful Realm of Living Beings), consisting of thirty silk scrolls depicting wild, vibrant nature in all its glory. Completing this project took him eight years, and the paintings became a gift to the Shōkoku-ji temple, with which Jakuchū felt a deep spiritual connection.
However, Jakuchū’s life was not without personal tragedy. Midway through his career, he experienced many losses. His parents died, followed soon after by his youngest brother, leaving a deep mark on him. These events drove him to become even more engaged in the spiritual aspects of his work. In his later years, his art became increasingly introspective and contemplative, reflecting his connection to Zen philosophy.
Despite these difficult times, Jakuchū achieved many artistic successes. His works were displayed in the most important temples and palaces, and he earned respect in both artistic and religious circles. At the age of 70, Jakuchū was still creating, engaging in monumental projects such as painting large murals for the Kinkaku-ji temple.
Jakuchū passed away in 1800 at the age of 84. He lived a life filled with creativity and spiritual pursuits. His works, once considered eccentric and too avant-garde, are today regarded as some of the greatest achievements in Japanese art.
In his extraordinary works, Itō Jakuchū did not limit himself to simply reproducing the world around him. His art was deeper, more spiritual – it focused on seeking shinki (心機), the “spirit of things,” the essence that goes beyond the physical form of an object or being. For Jakuchū, nature was a portal to a mystical reality in which every element – bird, flower, animal – possessed its own unique energy that needed to be captured.
One of the best examples of this approach is his monumental series Dōshoku Sai-e. These thirty scrolls, depicting birds, plants, and animals, are not merely representations of fauna and flora in their natural surroundings. Jakuchū painted them with incredible precision, but it’s not the technical mastery that makes these paintings extraordinary – it’s the way Jakuchū captured shinki. Each of his birds – for example, in Roosters and Camellias – is filled with life, full of internal energy, almost as if they were about to leap from the painting. His brush didn’t stop at what was visible – he sought to capture the invisible, the inner beauty that pulses beneath the surface of every creature.
Many scholars see Jakuchū’s fascination with nature as linked to his Buddhist roots and Zen philosophy. In Zen Buddhism (and in Edo period Japanese culture in general), there is the concept of mono no aware – an awareness of the impermanence and beauty of fleeting things. In Jakuchū’s paintings, nature is more than just an object of observation – it is a symbol of the eternal cycle of life, constant passing, and rebirth. In Aging Pine and White Phoenix, Jakuchū presents both the symbol of strength and rebirth (the phoenix) and aging (the pine), symbolically demonstrating the complexity and cyclical nature of life.
One of the most important aspects of Jakuchū’s search for shinki is his ability to simultaneously depict both dynamism and calmness in his works. The painting Whale and Elephant (象と鯨図) is a perfect example of this approach. The whale – king of the ocean, full of dynamism, moving through the waves – contrasts with the calm and stability of the elephant, the largest land creature, which seems almost permanently “rooted” in the ground. This combination of dynamism and tranquility, chaos and harmony, which Jakuchū captured in this painting, is a meditation on the duality of the world. It’s not just a painting of two animals – it’s a philosophical reflection on the coexistence of opposites.
Nobuo Tsuji, a renowned scholar of Japanese art who restored Jakuchū to the pantheon of great painters in his book Lineage of Eccentrics, points out how Jakuchū, through his works, sought to convey not only the beauty of nature but also its inner energy. According to Tsuji, the artist sought “a pure form of spirituality in nature,” surpassing the surface and reaching the essence of what makes things beautiful and alive.
Jakuchū constantly balanced between the material and spiritual worlds, and his works formed a bridge between these two realities. In paintings like Chrysanthemums by the Stream or Rooster and Gardenia, there is an extraordinary precision and attention to detail, but what is most striking is the way Jakuchū imbues these elements with life. His flowers and animals are full of inner dynamism, almost alive, as if their souls pulsed beneath the surface of the canvas.
Through these works, Jakuchū achieved something exceptional – he revealed not only the physical reality of nature but its inner, spiritual life. It is in this search for shinki – the spirit of things – that we find the true genius of his art.
Jakuchū’s continuous quest for a better way to express the essence of things led him to constantly experiment with painting techniques. He was both a traditionalist and an innovator – skillfully combining precise observation of nature with bold, almost psychedelic experiments in the use of color, light, and texture.
One of the most important elements of his work was his fascination with detail. Jakuchū had an astounding ability to render the incredible precision of nature in his works, as can be seen in his depictions of animals and plants. Take, for example, his famous bird paintings from the Dōshoku Sai-e (動植綵絵, Colorful Realm of Living Beings) series, where every feather, every scale, and every leaf is rendered with meticulous attention to detail. His roosters seem to almost jump off the silk scroll, while his peacocks and cranes are depicted in such a way that one can almost feel the gentle fluttering of their wings. Scholars like Nobuo Tsuji emphasize that Jakuchū drew inspiration from Chinese painting techniques, but his observation of nature was much more direct and organic. As a result, his animals were not only realistically portrayed but also radiated life and energy.
However, Jakuchū was not just a master of detail – his innovation was also evident in how he experimented with color and light. In paintings like Birds and Flowers in a Garden or Chrysanthemums by the Stream, we see not only naturalistic depictions of plants but also extraordinary, almost surreal combinations of colors. Jakuchū was unafraid of intense, sometimes even unexpected color contrasts. His works radiate psychedelic energy that mesmerizes the viewer – especially in paintings like Phoenix and Sun, where Jakuchū used sharp whites and vivid reds to create an almost surreal contrast between the bird and the background. Tsuji described this style as “painting with the energy of light,” where every beam and every shadow not only serves to depict form but also conveys spiritual depth. Jakuchū seemed to play with the viewer’s perception, creating paintings that vibrate with emotion and are almost hallucinogenic in their intensity.
One of Jakuchū’s most innovative approaches was also his experimentation with materials. As the son of a wealthy Kyoto merchant, he had access to the finest painting materials, including luxury pigments and silk. Nobuo Tsuji notes in his work on Jakuchū that the artist ordered the purest pigments from China, which were extremely expensive at the time. Jakuchū not only invested in the most expensive materials but also knew how to use them in unconventional ways. He often combined intense colors with the transparency of silk, creating light effects that gave his paintings an almost three-dimensional quality. In his work Mandarin Ducks on Snowy Reeds, one can see how the play of light and shadow emphasizes the texture of the reeds, while delicate shades of white and gray give the painting an almost ethereal character.
Jakuchū was also a pioneer in using techniques such as masume-gaki (枡目描き), or grid painting, in which the entire surface of the painting is divided into tiny squares, each filled with a different color. The most famous example of this technique is his work Birds and Animals in a Flower Garden (鳥獣花木図屏風). This technical experiment has led to comparisons between Jakuchū and modern artists who explored similar concepts in abstract painting. Each square in his compositions is like a pixel, and when viewed as a whole, the painting becomes a living, dynamic mosaic of colors.
Whale and Elephant
The work Whale and Elephant (象と鯨図屏風 - Zō to Kujira-zu Byōbu) by Itō Jakuchū is one of the most intriguing and enigmatic artistic depictions in Edo period art. At first glance, its monochromatic composition may seem simple – a black whale, submerged in ocean waves, and a white elephant, firmly positioned on the shore. However, beneath this minimalist image lies a profound philosophical reflection on the contrasts that define our reality.
Water and land in this painting symbolize not only physical differences between the underwater and terrestrial worlds but also differences between what is intangible and what is tangible. Water, symbolized by the whale, is dynamic, difficult to control, full of mysterious depths that remain hidden from the human eye. It is a realm of chaos and unseen forces that are unpredictable. The whale, as the ruler of this domain, embodies the power and awe of the unknown, emphasizing a deep, existential mystery.
On the other hand, we have the elephant, reigning over the solid ground – a symbol of stability, strength, and permanence. The elephant, though large, represents calm and slowness. It contrasts with the agile, dangerous whale. In Zen Buddhism, which was close to Jakuchū, land and water can symbolize two states of mind: order and chaos. One of the most important aspects of Zen Buddhism is the acceptance of both states – land and water, chaos and peace, are two sides of the same coin. In this way, the painting becomes a meditation on the dualism of existence and the necessity of balance between these two opposites.
The monochromatic nature of the painting – limiting the color palette to black and white – intensifies the sense of contrast, highlighting the different worlds these two great beasts represent. The use of black and white not only allows Jakuchū to avoid decorative, sensual aspects of color but also gives his work an ascetic, meditative character. These two powerful creatures seem to represent two spheres of life that, although existing side by side, are unable to meet or unite.
This is also a symbol of life in extreme conditions, where different forces – those “earthly” and those “underwater” – are incompatible, yet dependent on each other in the cosmic order of things. The whale may never set foot on land, and the elephant may never dive into the ocean’s depths, but both beings must coexist, just as the different aspects of our lives – from the material to the spiritual – must coexist.
The minimalism and paradoxes of Zen play a key role here. Both the elephant and the whale in Buddhist iconography can represent different aspects of enlightenment. The whale, submerged in the waters of the unconscious, can be understood as a symbol of the quest to understand the deep truths of existence that escape logical reason, while the elephant, majestic and calm, symbolizes inner strength, permanence, and peace of mind. Their meeting in a single painting seems impossible, but in Zen philosophy, impossibility (paradox) is the path to a deeper understanding of reality.
Jakuchū’s work is both a symbol of what is visible and what is hidden – the whiteness of the elephant is almost the brilliance of enlightenment, and the blackness of the whale is mystery, uncertainty, and spiritual seeking. Jakuchū, drawing from Zen Buddhism, clearly borrowed the concepts of “emptiness” (mu) and “fullness” (u), which are metaphorically reflected in the juxtaposition of these two contrasting creatures.
Whale and Elephant also fits into the “kiso no ga” – the art of strangeness and madness – a style defined by certain Edo period artists like Soga Shōhaku and Nagasawa Rosetsu. Like other eccentrics of that era, Jakuchū wasn’t afraid to experiment with form, creating paintings that mixed realism with fantasy. His work, though very traditional in its motifs, always sought new ways to interpret nature and existence.
Today, Itō Jakuchū’s works are experiencing a renaissance and are enjoying growing popularity. His works, which were marginalized for years, now attract crowds of admirers around the world. But what is behind this phenomenon?
First of all, it’s worth noting the explosion of interest in Jakuchū’s works on social media. Particularly his works, such as Dōshoku Sai-e (動植綵絵, Colorful Realm of Living Beings), have gained immense popularity on platforms like Instagram. The depth of color and the exceptional detail of Jakuchū’s works set them apart. What’s more, the vertical formats of many of his paintings, such as those depicting birds, perfectly fit modern smartphone display standards – and that’s arguably the most important aspect of 21st-century art (just a joke, sorry).
Moreover, Jakuchū inspires contemporary artists such as Takashi Murakami, who openly draws inspiration from the eccentric, baroque forms and rich details of the Edo master’s works. Murakami, known for creating art at the intersection of Japanese tradition and modern (or rather 20th-century) pop culture, refers to Jakuchū’s work in the context of “superflat” aesthetics, where depth of meaning and form are deliberately distorted in favor of flat, superficial perception. Murakami himself admits that it was Jakuchū who opened him up to the concept of combining tradition with modern means of expression.
In recent decades, Jakuchū has been at the center of attention of international collectors, curators, and museums. One of the key moments in the rediscovery of his art was the involvement of American collector Joe Price. In the 1980s, Price, enchanted by the beauty and uniqueness of Jakuchū’s works, began collecting his pieces and helped organize several key exhibitions. The most significant of these was the 1989 retrospective organized by the Tokyo National Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, where Colorful Realm of Living Beings was presented outside Japan for the first time. This exhibition became a milestone in the international reception of Jakuchū and placed him firmly on the map of the contemporary art world.
In Japan, a crucial moment was the opening of the exhibition “Jakuchū: The 300th Anniversary” in 2016 at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum. To mark the 300th anniversary of the artist’s birth, all 30 scrolls of the Dōshoku Sai-e series were displayed to the public for the first time in 10 years. This event generated immense excitement – collectors and art lovers stood in line for tickets for up to five hours. This exhibition was one of the most important cultural events of the year in Japan and confirmed Jakuchū’s status as an Edo artist who has been reborn in modern times.
No less significant was the exhibition “Colorful Realm: Japanese Bird-and-Flower Paintings by Itō Jakuchū” at the National Gallery of Art in Washington in 2012. This was the first time the entire Dōshoku Sai-e series left Japan, and it was one of the most significant art events of that year. Organized at the initiative of the Japanese Imperial Court, the exhibition paid tribute to Jakuchū and his unique style, whose details and richness of color captivated both critics and the public.
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A connoisseur of Asian culture with a deep-seated appreciation for various philosophies of the world. By education, psychologist and Korean philologist. By heart, an Android developer and an ardent tech aficionado. In tranquil moments, he champions a disciplined way of life, firmly believing that steadfastness, perpetual self-enhancement, and a dedication to one's passions is a sensible path for life.
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