hokusai: pictures from an exhibition

Last Sunday, I visited Hokusai: Inspiration and Influence, held at the Seattle Art Museum. Everyone is familiar with Hokusai’s Great Wave (pictured below, the formal title is Under the Wave off Kanagawa from the series Thirty-Six Views of Mt. Fuji —a bit of a mouthful), but his influence on art stretches far beyond just this one piece of work. The exhibit, comprised of works borrowed from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, is an exploration of his influences as well as works and artists whom he directly influenced.

One of the more striking things about this exhibit was the diversity of artists he influenced and exactly whom they happened to tuck in amongst everybody else. Single pieces by artists like Yayoi Kusama (of pumpkins and polka dots fame) and Paul Gauguin (the Post-Impressionist who ran off to Polynesia) —people who normally have entire high-profile exhibits dedicated to their work alone —hung unobtrusively on the wall between Hokusai’s work and the work of artists with whom I was unfamiliar. I was thrilled to see a lithograph by Odilon Redon in the section on yokai and ghost stories, as I’ve been really into his work lately as well.

I thoroughly enjoyed the sections of the exhibit on nature and architecture but found myself most intrigued by the sections on the yokai, monsters, and pornography.

So let’s get that out of the way: yes, Hokusai was also a pornographer. His most famous piece of pornography is commonly known as The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife (the formal title is Woman with Large and Small Octopuses, which is precisely descriptive). This piece was included in the exhibit, but I’m not including the photo here —I’ll leave that to you and Google, if you’re into that. I’ve seen the work before, so it wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the breadth of work included that it inspired, that were similar but were pointedly not inspired by it, and the thoughts that popped up with some background on the subject. There was the straightforward ‘inspired by’ piece called Sarah and Octopus/Seventh Heaven by Masami Teraoka, for example, which was even more pornographic than the original. But there were also pieces by women.

The fisherman’s wife in the original image was likely an abalone diver, meaning she had a job of her own. Her job was to dive into the water and pry mollusks from the rocks with a knife for food. Because they generally only wore red skirts while working, abalone divers were a frequent subject of erotic fantasies and artwork. The subject of Hokusai’s woodblock print is famously clad not in skirts —or in any other item of clothing, for that matter —but in many-tentacled octopods. It is a print very much suited to the male gaze. An example of a piece similar to The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife by a woman that changes the context of the octopus entirely is the self-portrait Chastity Belt by photographer Chehalis Hefner. Hefner goes out of her way to distance herself from the Hokusai work, and a quote on the wall that accompanies the photograph in the exhibit explains the difference between Hokusai’s approach (woman as subject) versus how Hefner approaches her work (woman as artist exploring her thoughts on “eroticism, feminism, rape, and overwhelming feelings of engulfment by male energies —all within the context of the identical saline solution of the womb and sea, in which both creatures were born.” It is even more complicated than the pornography, if that’s possible, and I found it striking. I’m still thinking about it, as well as the idea that, even though Hokusai’s subject had a job, she was still only the “fisherman’s wife”, and that his guess about her dreams, when given the choice to dream about anything at all real or imagined, was that she wanted to have sex with more than one octopus at the same time.

Chastity Belt by Chehalis Hefner

The majority of the exhibit was dedicated to people interacting with nature while fully clothed, however, whether as artist or as subject. There were also monsters. There were heroes. There were actors playing monsters and heroes. There were bridges and Lego and hidden frogs. It was a wonderful exhibition and a great day out.

what next, twitter?

Twitter is going the way of the dodo. As I have written about at length —okay, I think I wrote a grand total of two blog entries in the past, and this makes three, but that’s a lot for me —Twitter meant a great deal to me. It meant the ability to meet likeminded people; it meant the ability to learn from the world at large; it meant social engagement because my schedule often does not allow for going places for enjoyment’s sake and the in-person people I know have similarly inflexible schedules; it meant creative inspiration. It meant a lot. And now, it means …? What does it mean? It’s hard to say. It’s not the same, though. Things have changed.

And maybe I’ve changed as well. When I started on Twitter, I wrote for children. I curse too much publicly for that now, of course. Twitter saw me through major life changes —correction: the people on Twitter saw me through major life changes. Twitter provided the platform. Social support is a huge thing, and mine happened to come from people who lived in my phone. They didn’t judge. They were available at strange hours. They had life experiences that made them particularly understanding about what I was dealing with. I couldn’t do that with the people I knew in daily life, but I could with the ragtag bunch of weirdos and misfits I came to know and love on an app that no longer exists. And now, several years on, I am a very different person from when I started. I’m braver; I’m wiser; I’m more compassionate in a way that makes life tricky sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Part of that is plain old growing up, but part of it is thanks to Twitter —correction: the people on Twitter. Twitter provided the platform.

I’m scared of the vacuum the loss of Twitter will leave, but again, I’m braver than I was. I was talking to my friend Elizabeth the other day about why social relationships are so difficult. I have challenges with executive functioning, and the organizational load of maintaining relationships is hard, particularly with everything else I have to manage. If it comes to a choice between adulting and having and keeping friends —and it does, because it’s just me here and I have responsibilities —I have to choose adulting. But the trade off for having underdeveloped organizational skills is cognitive flexibility. I adjust well, once it’s clear that way won’t work. I’m a pretty friendly, pretty open person, as long as the other person isn’t a complete asshole. I respond to opportunities that present themselves because I don’t tend to dwell on the past. Also, I’ve been told I’m a hell of a lot of fun, but that’s only when I pull it together enough to interact with people. I do have fun on my own, too, and will, I promise not to blow too many things up, but I digress. I just want to make sure my life doesn’t get swallowed up by adulting, because contrary to what you may have been led to believe elsewhere, it’s not a ton of laughs (although it can get ridiculous).

I think I’ve been going through the stages of grief, like Kübler-Ross talked about. Some people may be of the opinion probably that that’s pathetic —it’s an app, for Christ’s sake —and it’s fine if they do. It’s a loss for me. I have feelings. It’s another major life change. Parasocial relationships are fundamentally transactional, and that’s not really how I operate. To me, many relationships I formed on Twitter are social relationships, and I don’t regret that. Society as it currently operates wants to make all of our relationships parasocial —none of it matters lol. To the extent that I am able to have any say in it, I refuse to let that happen. I care that it’s your birthday, that you passed that big exam, that you graduated, that your kids graduated, that you died. I care.

So I’ve been cycling through denial (it’s not happening), anger (screw that guy!), bargaining (maybe I can make it work), depression (it’s all going away), and acceptance (it’s happening). Thankfully, no one is dying —-and I want everyone to go on and have a wonderful life, wherever they end up! —but I know for me, the loss will be significant, and I don’t know what’s next. I signed up for Bluesky, but it reminds me a lot of Mastodon, which …okay. I refuse to have anything to do with Facebook/Instagram/Threads/whatever. My brain can’t handle TikTok —where the format of Twitter really suited my brain (fast mapping!), TikTok makes me feel like I’m in one of those parties with 20 five-year-olds hopped up on sugar all in the same bouncy house and someone thought it was a good idea to introduce techno and a black light. So probably not. I think I’m just gonna hang out on the blog here and mutter to myself a bit maybe, perhaps take up a hobby or two, do some traveling, read some books, see who I am when I’m not chatting with people. We’ll see.