Sengai Gibon's Hakozaki Beach Painting with Calligraphy (Autumn moon...)

[Iaido dude]

Sengai Gibon (仙厓義梵, 1750-1837), a student of the outstanding teacher Gessen Zenne, was the leading Zen master and artist at the end of the Edo Period with a long and distinguished career as monk and abbot. Like Hakuin, Sengai invented many new subjects for Zenga and infused them with delightful wit and risorial humor that place them among the most popular paintings in Zen history.

 

Sengai Gibon's connection to Hakozaki Beach on Harata Bay refers to his paintings depicting the surroundings of his later life. The late 18th- to early 19th-century Rinzai Zen Buddhist monk and artist retired in 1812 at 62 years old, after serving 23 years as the 123rd abbot of Shofuku-ji, established in 1195 as the first Zen monastery in Japan. He spent his remaining days teaching and painting at the Genju-an hermitage on the grounds of Shofuku-ji, located close to Hakozaki temple and beach in the Hakata district of Fukuoka, Kyushu. 

 

The great Hakozaki Torii gate is always seen in these paintings with nearby elements including a lookout tower, sand dunes, and bamboo fences on the beach. This work in my collection (top) also features the moon. The indistinct horizon to the right of the moon is referred to by Sengai as "in the middle of the sea, Shikashima island" in another expansive painting of Hakozaki Beach (bottom)². In this case, the poem, which appears to be a haiku if "ya や" is implied, clearly places the scene in the context of a place and a time--the mid-Autumn festival on Hakozaki Beach. Here is my translation:

 

秋の夜 (や)

唐まで月の

外と又

 

aki no yo (ya)--

kara made tsuki no

soto to mata

 

autumn night--

the moon reaches China

and even beyond 

 

The full moon on the fifteenth of August in the lunar calendar shines far beyond Hakata Bay and even over China. Tsuki (the moon) in the original second line, Kara made tsuki no (The moon reaches China), is phonetically pivoted on another work of the same sound, which means "the limit," thus possibly suggesting the expansion of the moonlight beyond the limit of even China.¹ The moon has long been a powerful symbol in Chinese poetry, particularly for people away from home. The idea is that even when missed family members are far apart, they are still connected by looking at the same moon. This echoes Chiyo-ni's haiku "Autumn's Bright Moon," which I posted previously.

 

¹Sengai: Master Zen Painter. Shokin Furuta (2000), pg. 112

²Zenga: Brushstrokes of Enlightenment, John Stevens (1990), pg. 152-153

 

 

 

[Iaido dude]

Here is another example of Sengai's Hakozaki Beach with autumn moon. My example is nearly identical in composition and placement of elements, which makes me wonder if it is a less well-executed hand painted copy. Or maybe Sengai--like his prolific contemporary Nantembo--just liked to brush the same composition. However, examples appear to be quite scarce. I have only seen one other example that is also quite similar.

 

Sengai: Master Zen Painter. Shokin Furuta (2000), pg. 112-113

[SteveM]

17 hours ago, Iaido dude said:

In this case, the poem, which appears to be a haiku if "ya や" is implied

 

It not so much an implied sound, rather its a definite ハ after 夜, thus giving that first line 5 syllables.

 

秋の夜ハ　  Aki no yo wa

唐まで月の   Kara made tsuki no

外と又          Soto to mata

[Iaido dude]

Excellent. Thanks. Sometimes “ya” is used as a connector to indicate a jump from the seasonal reference to a momentary experience or observation. I missed the “wa.”