Ausstellungen Dienstag, 21. Januar 2025, 10:00 - Sonntag, 26. Januar 2025, 17:00 „Forbidden Colours“. Eine Gemälde-Ausstellung von Duncan Swann

An exhibition comprising eight large-format abstract oil paintings that are based on natural forms and rhythms and which take their colour palette from the Forbidden Colours (Kinjiki) – eight colours which, during the Edo Period, were restricted in their use to the elite of society and to the Imperial Family. The exhibition will also include a number of smaller works on paper and oil paintings on canvas.

As I write this in the warm winter sun, the leaves on the maple trees have gone from scarlet to deep red and the fiery ginko trees have changed in a week from vibrant greenish yellow, to a burned yellow as they fall in spinning descent to carpet the roads. Japan is in constant flux. Since arriving in Tokyo two years ago the seasons have brought so much inspiration through the ever changing colours of the natural environment. Being outside, walking the rivers and the mountains of Japan, I have absorbed images, experiences and sounds and brought them back into the studio with me. The different colours and plants have led me to reconnect with a slightly different form of nature, to a slightly different rhythm.

The main body of this exhibition consists of eight abstract oil paintings on wooden boards (180cm x 68cm) that draw their inspiration from the shapes and forms of nature and from the line of Japanese and Chinese painting dating back to the 17th Century. The work was a search for a line that felt natural and true. It could be read as water, or as a plant, or as ice crystals. In our house in Munich the bathroom has tiles that are cut from Carrara marble. The white and grey stone was formed by sediment in water. In this liquid mud are captured forms that are incredibly clear, such as a deer, a young boy, an owl, a rabbit and a wolf. If I allow my eye to move over the natural patterns in the rock, then these forms slowly avail themselves over time. Once I see them they are clearly there. The image of a boy caught in rock, millions of years before a boy ever walked on the earth. How can a mountain be made of water? How can water hold the shape of a deer? Japanese painting attempted to hold all of these natural truths in a single image. The universe in constant flux.

The Japanese have over five hundred traditional colours, many with evocative names, such as thousand year old brown, golden falling leaves, cherry blossom mouse grey, and disappearing purple. During the Edo Period (1603-1868) the populace was banned from wearing any colours other than grey, brown or indigo. Their attempts to create individuality within this structure led to the creation of what was humorously known as ‘forty eight browns and one hundred grays’. At this time, there was a series of eight colours, though previously there had been as many as 36, and their use was restricted to cultural and religious uses and to denote social standing within society. These colours were reserved for the highest ranks of society and were known as the Kinjiki, or ‘Forbidden Colours.’ The list included sumac dye, the rich colour between brown, yellow and gold that evokes the summer sun and was, and is still, exclusively worn by the Emperor. Pale-oak, once reserved for the outer robes of the Emperor and for his concubines. Ochre, a burnt orange worn by the prince. Deep purple, known as Murasaki, or Shigokuiro, ultimate colour. Rich gardenia yellow, the colour of shining light in Japan. Sappanwood, a rich reddish brown that was substitute colour in the absence of purple. Sawtooth oak, a smoldering pink. Deep scarlet, an alternative to purple, the colour of the sun on the Japanese flag.

I decided to limit my palette to the forbidden colours alone. On the panels, I then painted simple linear progressions that reminded me of natural forms moving across a manmade structure – like the supports in Japanese gardens on which trees grow into unnatural, beautiful forms. As the branch grows into position on the support, it creates new branches that in turn require support. The final structure is a form of symbiosis between man and nature. The lines that I draw in paint are not a representation of an idea, but rather, the traces of a search for a specific form or aesthetic, which is sensed rather than seen and mirrors my experience of Japan.

As the paintings started to come to life, it felt as if I now shared the studio with eight individuals. The format of the paintings was reminiscent of the space that a person might inhabit and, in combination with the colours and lines, they had a certain theatricality, like an actor or a dancer on a stage. I gave these eight ‘figures’ the Japanese name of a person that I knew. From this starting point, each of the paintings developed in its own way. Although I had a plan for what I would like to achieve, the paintings often have other ideas, and after a certain point, as with any relationship, I have to start listening to what they are telling me.

As I write this, I am still working on the paintings in my studio. I am reading a beautiful book by Shimura Fukumi, a Japanese master of fabric dying and weaving. I leave the last lines to her, quoting from her book, The Music of Color:

“Unsure whether harmony (color) or rhythm (space) comes first, I pursue and am pursued by both, casting the shuttle as soon as it touches my hand. It feels like improvising a song to a predetermined rhythm. Not unconscious – a ball of pure consciousness. Arriving at the center, I weave without thought. I have no time to consider what color to add next. My hand is already on the shuttle.”

Duncan Swann
Tokyo, December 2024

Duncan Swann wurde 1969 in Sheffield, UK, geboren. Er studierte Malerei am Royal College of Art in London und hat zahlreiche Ausstellungen in privaten und öffentlichen Galerien in Europa und darüber hinaus gemacht.

Die Ausstellung ist von Dienstag, den 21. bis Sonntag, den 26. Januar 2025, täglich von 10.00 bis 20.00 Uhr zu sehen, am Wochenende bis 17 Uhr