Hokusai – Master for none. Master of all.

Introduction

I have been interested in Japanese art for as long as I can remember, particularly in woodblock printing. This ancient tradition opened new realms of imagination. A few years ago, I started to explore it further by watching specialized YouTube channels, like David Bull’s, where they explain the intricate techniques of woodblock printing. Listening to the artistry involved was fascinating—an art where cumulative effort and mastery by painters, sketchers, carvers, and printers culminate in a perfect woodblock print on a fine sheet of rice paper. I still recall how David described the process: each pencil stroke in the master drawing would later be translated into a different stroke by the carver’s blade shaping the cherry wood. The blade’s tip—whether square or rounded—produces varying effects, fine or thick, curved or pointed, which then influence the ink transfer onto the rice paper.

Inspired by this, I began collecting fine woodblock prints by famous Japanese artists, studying their strokes and techniques. Though my analysis was limited, not being a carver or an artist, the fascination grew. Years passed, and recently, while taking a jewelry engraving course, memories of those Japanese studies resurfaced. Listening to my teacher discuss blade angles, scalpel movements, and tool pressure reminded me of woodblock printing techniques. Like wood carving, engraving metal affects how light reflects off its surface, creating volume and space through careful manipulation of shadow and brightness. As I worked on refining my strokes to make light emerge from metal, I felt I was returning to my roots.

One of my recent projects involved reproducing a small section of Hokusai’s Great Wave, delving into his style of representing waves. Tracing his lines, I became more intimate with his artistic language and the reality behind the subjects I admired from afar. Following the waves’ lines, I could almost feel the splashes, the fluid motion capturing the essence of Hokusai’s craft. In the midst of recreating this piece, I found myself caught in the storm he so vividly portrayed—a chaotic world of fragmented lines and swirling waves that, like written characters, seemed to speak to me for the first time. His waves, shaped like monstrous hands or curled fingers, threaten to engulf the fragile boat. Meanwhile, a calm sky mocks the seamen’s fate as they struggle in an ocean of despair, their silent expressions echoing the tragedy of lost lives. Such artistry, achieved through the simplicity of a single blade stroke, felt monumental.

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Since last summer, I have been training in jewelry engraving as part of a course for craftsmen focusing on precious metal jewelry and stone setting. This training introduced a series of exercises to refine techniques: establishing working posture, handling tools, adjusting pressure, and preparing tools by sharpening and polishing. These foundational skills became essential as I sought to control the strokes and effects in my work.

Japanese woodblock prints have become a source of inspiration for my project. Attempting to reproduce Hokusai’s lines—lines that may have been executed by an engraving master under his direction—presented a new challenge, enabling me to study and understand how to manage my final results. It all began with The Great Wave, where I tried to capture the movement and spatial depth of the drawing.

The wave crests especially intrigued me. At first, I used a simple “nail” tool to recreate the broken lines, but soon realized a “square blade” was more suited to the task. I discovered that the composition of wave lines resembled the art of calligraphy more than straightforward engraving, each line curling like fingers reaching to grasp the souls of lost sailors, much like Chinese characters.

Taking it farther

After several experiments, I decided to try something new—depicting human movement. My next project drew me toward another Hokusai masterpiece, The Appearance of Hoeizan, which explores the theme of natural disasters and their impact on human life. In this work, Hokusai conveyed a tornado’s force through floating objects and bodies, creating a sense of inescapable catastrophe.

As I engraved the bodies, I could sense the turmoil and the horror of the event without any explicit portrayal of wind or flow. Every expression, every small sign conveyed emptiness and chaos in the face of disaster, capturing the victims’ helplessness through minimal, expressive lines.

In this exploration, I found a desire to depict human gestures and the subtleties of daily life. For me, details are the essence of memory. Just as a scent might evoke a long-lost moment, so too do small details preserve memories across generations. Hokusai—and later Kuniyoshi—captured everyday moments without waiting for a spectator to witness them. Their scenes are not posed for a viewer but exist independently, imparting a modern sense of authenticity. The relevance of such work endures, appealing to contemporary tastes two hundred years later.

Starting with specific Hokusai pieces, I was drawn to his mastery in rendering movement with simple strokes, and I saw the connection between woodblock printing and jewelry engraving. Both involve carving a surface to achieve a particular effect. Although engraving only affects the material directly, while woodblock printing involves layers and colors, both techniques reveal how an artist’s hand controls and shapes each line to create an overall impression.

The subject matter of my project is carefully chosen to express motion through intricate details of ordinary things. My process might be summarized as follows:

1. Sketching an idea based on details from well-known artworks or new inspirations from photos.
2. Crafting the idea onto a medium, such as a brass, silver, or gold plate.
3. Encapsulating these moments within small, precious frames—like a watch dial—to create pieces that balance overall impressions with microscopic detail.
4. Expanding each stroke into a broader composition, bringing clarity to dreamlike details, where each line becomes a lasting memory.

Using traditional engraving has deepened my understanding of composition, allowing me to perceive previously unseen elements. Modern craftsmen, aided by microscopes, can achieve incredible precision at microscopic levels, rendering each stroke nearly invisible to the naked eye, yet essential to the final aesthetic. Unlike painting, where brushstrokes are visible, engraving strokes merge into an unseen unity, leaving only the complete scene visible. My goal is to reveal these micro-details on a larger scale, inviting the viewer to appreciate the full scope of the craftsman’s work. From afar, the composition may look captivating, but upon closer inspection, the emotions within each line emerge, embodying the artist’s vision.

CHAP 3 – Possible Outcome

Considering the future direction for both the jewelry project and engraving, I identified several ideas:

• Jewelry with Unique Functions: A bracelet that folds into a helmet; a ring that illuminates without a visible stone.
• Watch Dials: Designs with engraved patterns that offer dual reading: a macro view highlighting light and reflection, and a micro view revealing intricate engravings. An example might be a star formed by curving symmetrical figures, readable at two levels of detail.
• Focused Representations of Hokusai or Kuniyoshi Works: Isolating scenes or details, such as The Great Wave’s boat, to create pieces where distance offers a broad view, but close inspection reveals emotional depth in every stroke.
• Miniature Engravings of Common Life: Inspired by Hokusai’s and Kuniyoshi’s portrayals of ordinary scenes, these small framed metal pieces capture scenes of daily life with layered readings: from afar, an outline of the action; up close, expressive emotions in fine detail.

Each stroke carries a memory and a feeling, creating small artworks that transcend time. By connecting the microscale to the macroscale, my engravings transform perception, immersing the viewer in the intricate world of craftsmanship, where the details bridge past and present.