Taoism: The Uncarved Block
A great carving is done without cutting. - Lao Tzu (28: Le Guin)
I choose a block of marble and chop off whatever I don't need. - Auguste Rodin
Trying to be is limiting. - Boo Tzu
In Taoism, the uncarved block has infinite potential. The lack of definition makes it incredibly useful, because it's ready to be anything. The end product is not as useful, because it only serves one purpose. (Yes, yes, the functional piece is more pragmatic, but the philosophy is sound.)
One of the greater "sins", if you will, (Taoism doesn't have a concept of sin, but it's clear that the more you strive against the natural flow of things, the messier your life will get) is to take an uncarved block and insist on it becoming something specific. What if, as you carve, you find imperfections that ruin your intended piece? A faulty crystal structure that'll shatter the axe on its first use, a cloud of coral in jade intended for a locust figurine that looks remarkably like a woman trapped in jade. Your locust will always look like the text written over re-used papyrus; convoluted, difficult, forced. You will strain to see the locust, after your eyes initially and easily register a now maimed woman, a locust cut deep into her body.
There were, and I'm sure are, artists who see the woman and bring her forth, even if they'd initially intended a locust. The locust is discarded for the woman, because the artist never stops seeing the piece before them instead of the vision in their head. It's a different kind of art, very Taoist, and one I adore.
In conclusion, Don't Get Lost in the Locust.
I've had the good fortune of seeing several pieces, mostly ancient Chinese jade, where the artist was the instrument of the medium. It is a beautiful sight. It also really brought home the concept of properly respecting the uncarved block when you decide it's time to make it into something.
There are several such pieces at the East Asian Art Museum in Bath, England.
At the Seattle Asian Art Museum, there are a few snuff bottles and 3 very noteworthy figurines as well as several honourable mentions.
Noteworthy:
The rams. When I saw this one, taking advantage of a dark cloud of brown (perhaps agate) in the jade, I thought to myself "How Taoist" and then, peering at the top, I saw a Yin-Yang carved in. I laughed out loud, self-congratulatory. An older woman, mid 70s, nearby asked what I was laughing about and I explained. She and I began a passionate conversation about the artistry of obeying instead of challenging natural mediums.
The little boy and his bull. A dark brown clouds the top and bottom of this jade piece, forming the hooves and feet of bull and boy, and the straw hat of the boy, as well as the horns and burden of firewood on the bull's back. (Maybe it's not a bull, I guess they're not used as pack animals so much, huh? It was a tough looking creature, but I was so busy admiring the flawless transition of color and detail, I confess I didn't notice what kind of animal it was)
The snipe and the oyster. A black snipe crouches on a pure white oyster, trying to crack it open. It's so absurdly well done, and the black and white so pure, that it's startling to discover it's carved from just one piece.
Honourable mentions:
The praying mantis The jade used is a dark green towards the top and fairly white towards the bottom. The mantis is green and the vine it stands on is white, though the figurine doesn't perfectly respect the color boundaries.
Several snuff bottles of agate, jadeite and several other materials, including a stunning rose/purple one where the handles are one color and the bottle another, though it's all from one piece.
I choose a block of marble and chop off whatever I don't need. - Auguste Rodin
Trying to be is limiting. - Boo Tzu
In Taoism, the uncarved block has infinite potential. The lack of definition makes it incredibly useful, because it's ready to be anything. The end product is not as useful, because it only serves one purpose. (Yes, yes, the functional piece is more pragmatic, but the philosophy is sound.)
One of the greater "sins", if you will, (Taoism doesn't have a concept of sin, but it's clear that the more you strive against the natural flow of things, the messier your life will get) is to take an uncarved block and insist on it becoming something specific. What if, as you carve, you find imperfections that ruin your intended piece? A faulty crystal structure that'll shatter the axe on its first use, a cloud of coral in jade intended for a locust figurine that looks remarkably like a woman trapped in jade. Your locust will always look like the text written over re-used papyrus; convoluted, difficult, forced. You will strain to see the locust, after your eyes initially and easily register a now maimed woman, a locust cut deep into her body.
There were, and I'm sure are, artists who see the woman and bring her forth, even if they'd initially intended a locust. The locust is discarded for the woman, because the artist never stops seeing the piece before them instead of the vision in their head. It's a different kind of art, very Taoist, and one I adore.
In conclusion, Don't Get Lost in the Locust.
I've had the good fortune of seeing several pieces, mostly ancient Chinese jade, where the artist was the instrument of the medium. It is a beautiful sight. It also really brought home the concept of properly respecting the uncarved block when you decide it's time to make it into something.
There are several such pieces at the East Asian Art Museum in Bath, England.
At the Seattle Asian Art Museum, there are a few snuff bottles and 3 very noteworthy figurines as well as several honourable mentions.
Noteworthy:
The rams. When I saw this one, taking advantage of a dark cloud of brown (perhaps agate) in the jade, I thought to myself "How Taoist" and then, peering at the top, I saw a Yin-Yang carved in. I laughed out loud, self-congratulatory. An older woman, mid 70s, nearby asked what I was laughing about and I explained. She and I began a passionate conversation about the artistry of obeying instead of challenging natural mediums.
The little boy and his bull. A dark brown clouds the top and bottom of this jade piece, forming the hooves and feet of bull and boy, and the straw hat of the boy, as well as the horns and burden of firewood on the bull's back. (Maybe it's not a bull, I guess they're not used as pack animals so much, huh? It was a tough looking creature, but I was so busy admiring the flawless transition of color and detail, I confess I didn't notice what kind of animal it was)
The snipe and the oyster. A black snipe crouches on a pure white oyster, trying to crack it open. It's so absurdly well done, and the black and white so pure, that it's startling to discover it's carved from just one piece.
Honourable mentions:
The praying mantis The jade used is a dark green towards the top and fairly white towards the bottom. The mantis is green and the vine it stands on is white, though the figurine doesn't perfectly respect the color boundaries.
Several snuff bottles of agate, jadeite and several other materials, including a stunning rose/purple one where the handles are one color and the bottle another, though it's all from one piece.