Page 28 - BSAM 2018 Q1

Figure 4
Picea Abies “Pumila”/Norway Spruce
In training since 2002.
Facing page;
Figure 5 and 6
Conocarpus erectus/ Buttonwood
In training since 1975
“There’s an intimacy to bonsai that is largely invisible. It exists in those sacred moments between artist and tree in partnership. Stephen’s photographs shed a quiet, respectful
light on these wonderful moments.”
Ryan Neal
the sacred with gratitude and openness, with curiosity and awe. He intended a quiet, relaxing experience.
He is shown in Figure 2, photographing in the museum. He describes waiting for the light to be diffuse so that he might focus more on the trees themselves rather than their interplay with light and shadow. Figure 3 epitomizes Stephen’s approach. It depicts much of a Norway Spruce that has been in training since 2002. It is noteworthy that Stephen does not depict the tree and its container in their entirety. e tree is in no way posed. It is photographed in situ against the mottled wall where it is displayed. e wall itself may also become an object of meditation and imaginative inquiry for the viewer. For me, it evoked images of the fog-shrouded mountains of Huangshan, China. It might just as easily evoke ink painting or the natural soiling of a wall exposed to the elements. e point is that the connotative quality of the images invites an interpretive dialog. When first viewing In Training, I found myself stuck on this image. I wasn’t caught up in paging through the work to see what else was there as would be my usual practice. is single image was quite enough to occupy my attention fully, in a way that was lled with wonder much more than with analysis. is, I might add, is not a typical experience for a neuroscientist who analyzes brain images for a living. My mind seemed to be asking “what could I absorb from this image? what resonances are arising?” rather than “what could I learn from it?” The experience was much more emotive than cognitive. I don’t think that this is idio- syncratic. It is very much akin to the experience of Ryan Neil who, in conversation, described a kind of contemplative intensity he brought to Stephen’s work, an intensity that allowed the spirit of the tree to emerge.
In formally commenting upon In Training, Ryan remarked, “ ere’s an intimacy to bonsai that is largely invisible. It exists in those sacred moments between artist and tree in partnership. Stephen’s photographs shed a quiet, respectful light on these wonderful moments.” e title, In Training, is suggestive of the interactive process between artist and biology that may result in a masterpiece. e captions for each photograph simply note the species and the years in training. at practice is being followed in the present article. Figure 4 presents another image of the same Norway Spruce depicted in Figure 3. While Figure 3 may draw attention to a state, the wiring visible in Figure 4 draws the viewer to the creative interaction between the artist and the growth habit of the tree. e dropped needles also have something interesting to say. Showing dramatically di erent views of particular trees demonstrates how each view connotes di erent nuances of meaning. is occurs frequently within the book with very interesting results.
e book contains a section, following the pho- tographs, that presents drawn sketches and a brief but highly apt commentary on each of the trees. In Training contains an eloquently and elegantly written a erword by Michael Hagedorn that is an important document in the bonsai literature in and of itself. Interestingly, I found myself lingering over and returning to Michael’s words in much the same way that I have lingered over and returned to Stephen’s images. ere is a wonderful synergy between the two. e a erword does not simply follow the images, it magni es them.
So, we have a brilliant photographer—not a bonsai artist, but de nitely an artist whose spirit has been deeply touched by bonsai—and a unique and
26 | BCI | January/February/March 2018