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Updated: June 1, 2025
But why prate history, why evoke phantoms of the past, when we can gaze on this exquisitely concrete thing this glad and simple creature of Hokusai? Let us emulate his calm, enjoy his enjoyment as he sprawls before us pinguis, iners, placidus in the pale twilight. Let us not seek to identify him as god or mortal, nor guess his character from his form.
It is the presentation of the humble truth that early snared the affections of Degas, who has with a passionate calm pursued the evanescent appearances of things his entire life. No doubt death will find him pencil in hand. You think of Hokusai, the old man mad with paint, when the name of Degas is mentioned. Like Flaubert, he never married, but lived in companionship with his art.
I could have wagered Uncle's best picture that Billy was tearing up gravel outside. I had been in the house an hour, and had accomplished nothing. Surely if I stayed long enough something had to happen. Suddenly out of my hopelessness came a blessed thought. Uncle had. once promised to show me a priceless original of Hokusai. I asked if I might see it then.
Whistler's butterfly was the moth of the silkworm borrowed from Hokusai. Otto H. Bacher thought the addition of a sting to the signature came from this incident at Venice: In 1880 he found a scorpion and impaled it on his etching needle. As the little creature writhed and struck, Whistler exclaimed: "Look at the beggar now! See him strike! Isn't he fine? Look at him! Look at him now!
His sketch-books, as copious, as vivid as the drawings of Hokusai he is very studious of Japanese art are swift memoranda of the human machine as it dispenses its normal muscular motions. Rodin, draughtsman, is as surprising and original as Rodin, sculptor. He will study a human foot for months, not to copy it, but to possess the secret of its rhythms.
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