Katsushika Hokusai: The Mad Painter
As one of the most astonishing artists in Japanese history Katsushika Hokusai (c. October 31, 1760 – May 10, 1849), sought perfection through his artwork and designs. Here we explore his extraordinary life, artistic contributions, and the world of Edo (Medieval) Japan.
There is a big difference between doing what you want and what you must. In the year 1760, on the isolated island nation of Japan, a 26-year-old Katsushika Houkasi was a broke and desperate artist.
This was before he painted the world-famous Great Wave off Kanagawa before he was imitated by artists like Vincent Van Gogh before his artistic genius was ever noticed— he was a street peddler. hustling everything from spices to almanacs.
Sometimes we do what we must.
With the pressing responsibility of supporting a family Hokusai’s dreams nearly died at the cruel hands of necessity.
Yet when he wasn’t selling at the market, Hokusai stole away moments to paint and illustrate. Using every free second to keep his dreams alive. Hard work, hustle, and the pursuit of happiness transformed Hokusai into the brilliant painter who captured the spirit of Japan.
He emptied his soul on canvass. Creating works that were gripping, rousing, and beautifully structured. His work sprung out of all the artistic traditions of Japan ( calligraphy and oil painting) yet exploded with energy and volume.
Here we’ll explore how Hokusai’s success as an artist through hustle, hard work, and a relentless pursuit of happiness.
“From the age of 6 I had a mania for drawing the forms of things. By the time I was 50 I had published an infinity of designs; but nothing I did before the age of seventy was worthy of attention.At seventy-three, I began to grasp the structures of birds and beasts, insects and fish, and of the way plants grow. If I go on trying, I will surely understand them still better by the time I am eighty-six, so that by ninety I will have penetrated to their essential nature.
At one hundred, I may well have a positively divine understanding of them, while at one hundred and thirty, forty, or more I will have reached the stage where every dot and every stroke I paint will be alive. May Heaven, that grants long life, give me the chance to prove that this is no lie. ”
— KATSUSHIKA HOKUSAI
HUSTLE
Why do we have such respect for human hustle? I think it’s because it represents the movement of our work. It electrifies our endeavors. Like the nervous system sends electricity throughout the body and to the brain, making it possible for us to act, think and feel. Hustle is the defibrillator of the human spirit.
Hokusai blended hustle with patience. In time his artwork gained the notice of a well-paid commission. After years he finally earned from his work. This was great progress. To earn a living as an artist in feudal Japan was damned hard. With a growing family—harder.
Fast-forward to the spring of 1804. Hokusai’s hustle rewarded him in an unexpected way. While at a festival in Tokyo he walked into the midst of a large crowd and unrolled 20 yards of parchment paper. Gathering buckets of water, ink, mops, and brooms he was ready.
Grabbing the mop he dipped it into the pigment. Pushing colors this way and that. Alternating mop and broom he sloshed, splashed, spilled, spattered, and splattered paint onto a huge roll of paper.
The small crowd grew large as curiosity gave way to amazement.
Then the painting was finished.
Difficult to make out at ground level, onlookers rushed to the temple roof to look down from a higher position. Before them lay a crystal clear picture of Japan’s beloved Buddhist saint Daruma. With a showman’s flair, Hokusai painted a figure he knew would resonate emotionally with the audience— for this, he became a local hero.
Not stopping there he continued with his colossal creations and microscopic masterpieces. There are stories of him creating detailed drawings on grains of rice.
Then his name caught the attention of Shogun Tokugawa Ienari. Hokusai was invited to an art competition. In modern-day, this would be the equivalent of a personal invite from the governor. It was the break of a lifetime.
Hokusai was pitted against a renowned painter named Buncho. Each man was instructed to come up with a painting on the spot. So the master artist Buncho created a phenomenal painting. So impressive it seemed unbeatable.
Then goes Hokusai.
We’re told that he started by sketching beautiful birds and landscape scenes almost as if warming up. Then tearing down a screen of large paper started painting it with a broom. With hues of light and dark blues, the picture of a river took form. Then in a crazily inventive move, he reached into a cage and grabbed a rooster. Dipping its talons into reddish-orange paint and then releasing it on the paper. The rooster walked around and its footprints created a random pattern of fall maple leaves.
People perked up. This painting looked fondly familiar. Most in the crowd had visited the Tatsuta river in fall for its natural beauty. Each of them would have admired the orange leaves floating downstream. Hokusai was a master at connecting his art to the very memory and soul of the crowd. Hokusai had recreated the Tatsuta River.
Through this hustle and inventiveness, his name was firmly cemented as a people’s champion in Japan.
HARD WORK
Katsushika Hokusai was a man utterly absorbed with art and drawing. If he was engaged in projects he wouldn’t even look up to accept the packets of money regularly delivered for his art commissions.
They were left on the table.
When a bill collector came to collect he would hand him the envelope, whatever was inside, barely looking up from his work. Some bill collectors were shortchanged and returned angrily. Others got more than was owed. Hokusai cared little either way.
Ceaseless, never-ending drawing. In a modern psychological view, we would probably term him as neurotic and perfectionist. Yet there is something to be said about the tremendous value of constant hard work.
Hokusai produced so many drawings and paintings they defy calculation. I was floored by how many ideas he was able to stuff onto canvass.
He completed no less than 40,000 paintings, drawings and sketches. Like a machine, he produced daily, diligently, and without fail. No subject escaped his drawing table. Political scenes, nature, the marketplace, religion, wealth, poverty, and everyday life. Even erotica took form at the tip of his brush.
As I flipped through his manga and studied his paintings I was mind blown. His work was genius in scope and infinity in magnitude.
He drew nature in the form of animals, birds, insects, fish, mountains, grasses, and landscapes. Neither did lighting, thunder, wind, and fire escape his pen. His sketchbooks show people of all professions and activities. Weavers, wrestlers, archers, soldiers, potters, and merchants. He illustrated mythical heroes and ghastly ghosts. With great care, he depicted men, women, children, individuals, and crowds. Prostitutes and beggars, samurai, and statesmen. Nothing was too high nor too low.
Hokusai’s charm came from his ability to capture the human condition in all its beauty of the natural world we all live in.
We all want to succeed, but how many of us are willing to work with the dedication of Hokusai?
PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS
“Living only for the moment, savouring the moon, the snow, the cherry blossoms, and the maple leaves, singing songs, drinking wine, and diverting oneself in simply floating, unconcerned by the prospect of imminent poverty, buoyant and carefree, like a gourd carried along with the current of the river.”
— ASAI RYOI- TALES OF THE FLOATING WORLD
When we think of happiness many tend to focus on the “things” in life that we crave or long to own. Concrete consumables like money or intangible resources, such as time or inner peace.
I think happiness is deeply tied to personal freedom. The type of freedom that allows us to control our own destiny. The type of freedom that transcends economics, judgment, or status.
Hokusai achieved happiness through artistic expression. He lived through trauma, civil war, rapid social change, restricting laws, and the full range of human tribulations. Yet he kept painting. Did the freedom to paint lead to his happiness? I think so.
In a terrible fire, his house burned down and he lost much of his life work. This didn’t stop him from pursuing happiness. It wasn’t so much about the product as the journey.
Some of his best works were completed at 87 years old.
Hokusai lived to the old age of 90. One of his few surviving quotes tells us much of his character. He was a man on a humble quest for perfection:
"If only Heaven will give me just another ten years... Just another five more years, then I could become a real painter."