Is Visual Art Music or Literature?

The Peregrines of Manayunk. Mokuhaga by Ken Januski. Copyright 2025.

I have finished the mokuhanga of the peregrine falcons of Manayunk and St. John's Church and wrote about much of their story in my last post.

But you might wonder how I ended up with this picture. I talked very briefly about it last time when I showed the pencil sketch that served as its basis.

Preliminary sketch for the new mokuhanga. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

After doing quite a few field sketches through my scope on two or three visits to St. John's Church I also made some watercolor sketches from photos I'd taken. After deciding to try to come up with an idea for a print I just got out a large sketchbook and came up with the drawing above.

What in the world is it? Well that's where the title of this post comes in. Many people prefer their visual art to be pretty literary, clearly illustrating an object or idea. The purpose of the art is very literal and any deviation from the literal is bad, at least in their minds. Others, especially in western European/American art from the 20th century on thinks of visual art as closer to music. It is abstract but wide-ranging it its emotional impact, like music. It is not limited by facts, visual or otherwise.

Of course visual art  shouldn't be literature or music. It should be visual art, whatever that is. In any case as I sat down to make this sketch I just let a summary of my experiences viewing and sketching the peregrines over a week flow onto the paper. I hadn't really thought about this until recently. But I think this is a good explanation. It is just a visual recording of my experiences.

That means showing all the peregrines(actually 6 in all, 2 adults and 4 fledglings) but also their environment, the church and its steeples and roofs, the surrounding utility structures on which they often perched, and all my sketches of them perched in various locations. Even the food handoff from parent to child of a recently caught European starling.

Having spent most of my life as an abstract artist I feel perfectly free to make real objects abstract or to add the abstract and the more realistic. There is over 100 years of history now of this type of art. Still it probably bothers some. But I can't worry about them. As many people know art is first of all for the artist who makes it, perhaps not in terms of making a living from it, but certainly in terms of artistic satisfaction. So I'm quite satisfied with this. It mixes realistic and abstract as well as flatter more abstract space and deeper more atmospheric traditional space. I like that.

In the long run though it is also quite realistic in the sense that it recreates my experience over the week of watching the peregrines.

This is probably the most complex mokuhanga I've ever done. I'm sure many would say: 'Please, please, please start simple and then get complex. First learn the rudiments of mokuhanga and then get fancy.' It makes perfect sense to me but I just can't do it that way. I need to be motivated to make an image and then hope that I can master the technical aspects as I go.

But I would reiterate what I've said before: mokuhanga is a wonderful medium for making art. It has left me frustrated at some point in almost every print that I have ever made. But the rewards have far outweighed the problems. It is very hard to explain how much freedom you have with mokuhanga. A printing press with a million options right on the small table in front of the you. The main ingredient of the press being a handheld baren that can vary in price from around $50 to over $1000. But it weighs only a few ounces and can be repaired by you yourself. The chisels can last a lifetime. The paints are watered based and non-toxic. And you work on beautiful, often hand-made paper. Did I mention a rich history? I don't want to go on. I'm sure I break as many rules of mokuhanga and that tradition as I do of European/American art especially pre-20th century. But I find it an incredibly rich and enjoyable medium.

I have printed 12 of these so far, all on Nishinouchi paper. I plan to print at least 24 more and then will have to cull out the ones with minor blemishes. When that is all finished I will put them up for sale on Etsy.

 

Preliminary Peregrines - A Six Week Story

Three proofs of new mokuhanga, 'Peregrines at St. Johns Church.' Copyright 2025, Ken Januski

It was about ten years ago or so that I learned that peregrine falcons were nesting quite near to our house, just down the hill towards Manayunk and the Schuylkill River. Oddly we found this out after nearly running over some birders who were taking up the road for themselves, quite oblivious to cars,  at Heislerville WMA near Cape May in New Jersey. We ran into them, figuratively, later and mentioned that we lived in Manayunk. They told us about the nesting peregrines.

    The first time we actually saw them was a year or two later when I was about to walk back up hill to our house, carrying my art work with me, after having exhibited for the first and only time in the Manayunk Arts Festival on Main Street. I'd only gotten a block away when I heard this shrill screeching. Peregrines! Later I learned that they were fledglings awaiting food from their parents.

    They nested at St. John's Church for 10 or more years, with occasional replacement of one of the parents. Unfortunately I didn't visit them during breeding season any where near as much as I should have. At one point the male I believe was found dead possibly the result of a drone strike. I think that there may not have been a nest for a year or two. And then this year a new one with new parents was discovered by the person who has most closely monitored them over the years, Judy S.!

So I went down the hill a couple of times and tried to find them and sketch them through my scope. I also took numerous photos and videos but they were always a bit too distant. Below are many if not all of the field sketches I made during those visits, starting with the first.  As I've said many times there is a thrill to field sketches and the actual process of sketching in the field that is absent from photography, at least for me.

After I'd done these and after a small celebration of local birders for another successful nesting season, with four juveniles(!), I decided to do some sketches for a possible new mokuhanga. Photos of the first compositional sketch as well as one of two preliminary digital sketches are also below.

At the top are the three newest proofs of all eight blocks. There are a few minor changes to make but very soon I will print a new edition. I should add that I haven't suddenly turned 'religious.' The crosses are part of the church. The other structures or fragments of structures are also from the surrounding area, and frequent perches for the six swiftly flying peregrines. I tried to capture all of that!

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Watercolor sketch of local Peregrines from my photos. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

 

Large pencil sketch that tries to capture the experience of seeing so many Peregrines over three long visits. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Sumi brush pen field sketch of local Peregrines. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Digital template, using Procreate, of local Peregrines. This is the second one and a bit different than the first. The new print is based on this. Copyright 2025, Ken Januski.

Running To and From Line

White-eyed Vireo Mokuhanga. 9x12 inches on Torinoko paper. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

 

I sometimes mention that I've been an abstract painter most of my life, though as I'm now in year 19 of naturalistic art and year 10 or more of printmaking that is starting to change. In any case in my artistic memory I remember when the only thing in my mind was pushing paint around and not paying as much attention to line. However drawing, which is primarily line, has also always been important to me.

It has seemed particularly important to me as a naturalistic artist, perhaps because there's more of a desire to capture the contour of things. In any case some types of printmaking lend themselves to line, like etching, engraving and perhaps lithography. And some do not. Carving into sometimes recalcitrant wood to produce a line is not the same as whipping a sumi brush pen across a piece of paper. One flows and the other doesn't.

Mokuhanga lends itself to shapes and color, but not really to painterly color. And though the expert professional carvers of the ukiyo-e period were incredibly accomplished in the sensitivity of the lines they could carve I certainly am not. And I think much contemporary mokuhanga, at least that I've seen in US, seems to favor shape and color over line. This is not at all surprising. Carving wood and getting sensitive, sinuous lines is quite difficult!!

My first notice of mokuhanga was contemporary work and that work focused on color and shape. I switched from linoleum block printing to mokuhanga partially due to my desire to abandon the oil-based solvents of so much of the ink I was using in linoleum  block printing but also because I thought the colors of linoleum block couldn't begin to compare with the richness of the water-based color of mokuhanga prints.

Though I struggled mightily trying to learn mokuhanga on my own I immediately saw the rich color possibilities. But I also felt I wanted line in my work. I not only wanted it; I needed it. There had to be a counterpoint to the rich color areas! Just one problem: I didn't have sufficient carving skills to do that to my satisfaction. Much of my earlier moku hanga tried to find a way.

Yellow-throated Warbler. Sumi brush pen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

Yellow-rumped Warbler Eating Poison-Ivy Berries. Sumi brush pen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

Willow Flycatcher. Sumi brushpen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski

Willow Flycatcher. Sumi brushpen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski

Warbling Vireo. Sumi brushpen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken Januski.

White-eyed Vireo. Sumi brush pen and watercolor. Copyright 2025 by Ken  Januski.

Often at the beginning of the year, probably because of often uninviting outdoor weather, I end up looking at the photographs I've taken over the year, taken for documentary reasons not artistic. I hate working from photos and rarely do. But this year I decided to work in sumi brush pen, wash from a waterbrush, and possibly watercolor as I looked through my thousands of photos. I really only wanted to notate ideas that the photos prompted in me. The fluidity of the brushpen, the ease with drawing washes out of their ink and the impossibility of erasure all gave me what I wanted: a quick sketch! The more I've done these, either in the field, or in my studio working from photos, the more I like them. They don't really remind me of photos but they're close enough to the subject portrayed to give me ideas about how to develop them in mokuhanga, or more rarely watercolor.

Again though there is that problem of line!!!! How could I get the same, often thin, sinous line from carved wood? Finally I decided to use the White-eyed Vireo sketch as the  source of a mokuhanga. I sharpened all my chisels, cut more deeply and cleared out more deeply than ever before, and hoped for the best.

I am happy with my newest mokuhanga, at top, of the White-eyed Vireo. It has given me the bold line that to me just seems necessary to balance the rich color of mokuhanga. This print has also given me the confidence to consider some mokuhanga using warblers as subject, something I don't recall that I've done in print in many, many years.