[Joanna Bourque]

I am Joanna Bourque and I teach art K-5 in Central Virginia. I have a broad interest in Asian arts and cultures, though my background is in mostly Chinese and Japanese art. I have been taking seminars and courses about East Asia for about a year now, ever since I discovered NCTA. I personally have had an interest in K-culture for a few years now. I love K-dramas, BTS, and Korean food and I am, in fact, writing this at the airport on my way home from seeing JHope in concert.

 

I have been learning as much as I can about South Korean history and culture to understand its creative arts in context as I hope to soon bring it into my classroom. I am looking forward to our discussions!

[Joanna Bourque]

During the last readings and lectures, I was reminded of a course I took last summer about life on the Tokaido Road in Japan. Starting from the Nihonbashi Bridge, which is considered the source of the Gokaido, Japan's five main roadways during the Edo period, we studied the culture and commerce that rose up around Nihonbashi Bridge and the 53 stations of the Tokaido from Edo to Kyoto. A statement from Prof. Bharne regarding the difference in the way cities were depicted in the art of different cultures stuck with me from a past lecture. In the West, more focus was paid to the city's buildings and infrastructure, while in many non-Western countries, the focus was on the life of the city's inhabitants.

Hiroshige created a series of woodblock prints The 53 Stations of the Tokaido that depicted the multitude of travelers you might find journeying to different destinations for a myriad of reasons along the Tokaido, along with the inns, eateries, tea houses, etc., that sprung up at each station in response to the influx of people. I find his first print, Nihonbashi, fascinating in that the river made the whole city of Edo possible, yet it didn’t command attention, as if the river itself was secondary to the crowds, boats, and general bustle of commerce and city life. I can almost imagine stopping at the apex of the bridge to look out over the river, all the chaos around me becoming a blur. A highway was built above the bridge in preparation for the 1964 Olympics and destroyed the view from the bridge. The city of Tokyo had plans to move the the highway underground in order to return the clear sky to the cultural landmark, but I have not found news that they have proceeded with the project. 

As expressed in Prof. Bharne's final lecture, "The true heritage of a city is the patterns of people." The bustling crowds around the Nihonbashi Bridge in Edo, the street musicians at Yoyogi Park in Tokyo, the early morning dancers in Shangai, China, the vendors catering to Filipino diaspora in Little Manila in Seoul all make contributions to sustaining the vibrant cultural life of their respective cities. The continuation of these subcultures seems attributable to informal negotiations between these marginal groups and officials. 

[Joanna Bourque]

After reading a passage from Zen Spaces and Neon Places, I was reminded of my comments from the second session about the fate of traditional Zen shoin gardens as they are now engaging with modern cityscapes. Zen Spaces and Neon Places excerpts Charles Moore's essay Impressions of Japanese Architecture "how his continuing awe at Japan’s 'magic gardens of purest peace' was defiled by its 'endless degrading sprawl; the bad air; the shapeless, scattered mass that connects the suburbs from the land', as well as Tadao Ando's essay From Self-Enclosed Modern Architecture toward Universality lamenting "the loss of Japanese architecture's 'intimate connection with nature and openness to the natural world'."

Concerning modern architecture: I see a connection to Japan's traditional architectural styles utilizing natural elements, natural motifs, and natural views that seem to be missing from the recent past. Asakusa Culture and Tourist Information Center is a tiered tower with multiple eaves, similar to the pagoda, while it's facade is mostly glass with the addition of vertical wooden slats. The TOD's building's front-facing facade, while less ornate and more abstract, is again mostly glass with a pattern of criss-crossed brackets branching upwards, naturally mirroring the bare branches of the tree nearby. The exterior of the Spiral building is sectioned into areas of differing grid patterns that appears quite modern in material and design, yet, is reminiscent of traditional Japanese lattice doors and windows.

Concerning natural spaces: In the prior reading A View from the Zen Shoin there was a passage about post-WWII Japanese garden design and the "dualism between man and nature" that had not been seen before. Although some characteristics of traditional Zen garden design were still practiced, the purpose and intention were replaced: appreciating nature gave way to appreciating the intent of the artist, and private areas for self-meditation gave way to public spaces for public use. Although Japan still maintains a distinct connection to its past and its traditions, mega-structures and towers are being erected that can potentially obliterate the intentional design and function of existing traditional Zen gardens, especially those utilizing "borrowed scenery" from the natural environment beyond their boundaries. As early as 1962, there was discussion about how "Japan’s 'magic gardens of purest peace' was defiled by its 'endless degrading sprawl'." While those discussions are mostly attributed to architects and critics, I am curious as to whether the uncertain future of existing traditional Zen gardens and other natural spaces is a concern for a modern Japanese population. 

[Joanna Bourque]

I have noticed from the readings and lectures this week that the architectural design of different dwellings may have had an impact on the frequency and quality of social interaction in China. As we have seen, Chinese cities were not constructed with spaces intended for public/social use. Some types of dwellings, however, provided functional public/social space in either their design or their location. For example, the tufou was a multi-family fortress-type dwelling with an open-air central space to be used by residents, and the qilou was a multi-family residence with street-level shops where the street and storefronts could be used as gathering places at night.  

Courtyard houses, on the other hand, were large private dwellings with enclosed residences and their central open-air spaces were available to only those living within its walls. I would like to know if this limited the frequency and/or quality of social interaction as there were not many public spaces beyond its walls that were used for social activities.

Last year, I developed a lesson on architecture for fourth graders that involved creating a built community that included necessary structures and services: homes, schools, gas station, police station, etc. None of my students (nor I) mentioned public, social, or open air spaces during our brainstorming session nor subsequent building sessions. For next year, I want students to be thinking more about the importance of these types of spaces in a community and the importance of where these spaces are situated. 

[Joanna Bourque]

I had a similar thought about traditional Zen shoin garden designs as they are now engaging with modern cityscapes, especially those utilizing borrowed scenery from the natural environment beyond their boundaries. There was a passage from A View from the Zen Shoin about post-WWII Japanese garden design and the "dualism between man and nature" that had not been seen before. Although some characteristics of traditional garden design were still practiced, the purpose and intention were replaced: appreciating nature gave way to appreciating the intent of the artist, and private areas for self-meditation gave way to public spaces for public use.

Although modern Japan maintains a distinct connection to its past, as modern buildings are being erected that can potentially obliterate the intentional design and function of traditional Zen gardens, I am curious as to whether it is a concern for a modern Japanese population.

[Joanna Bourque]

I have many thoughts and questions relating to depictions of Buddha in art and architecture.

First, Buddha originally was not depicted in human form but as an empty space situated below a parasol or above a set of foot prints. I have seen relief carvings on structures from India relating stories from Buddha's life in such a way. In the third lecture, there was mention that Buddha's earliest devout followers viewed him as a social reformer rather than a spiritual icon. My questions pertaining to this: what was the initial reasoning for not depicting Buddha in human form, and was it related to the view that he was a man and not an entity to be worshipped?

Also in the third lecture, it was said that the large human form that has become an iconic representation of Buddha was developed over time in East Asia. My questions pertaining to this: when did it become convention to depict Buddha in human form, what was the significant influence behind this shift, and did it first occur in India or East Asia?

[Joanna Bourque]

I was reviewing my notes from the readings and lecture and was starting to formulate similar questions about the relationship between what we consider westernization in the recent past and the current modernization in East Asia, as westernization has become a global phenomenon. I am also still trying to figure out how to bring my thoughts together, but I initially was thinking back to how North Americans have been influenced by ancient Greek and Roman thought, philosophy, and in turn, architecture. Many of our most iconic buildings and structures are Greco-Roman examples of their enduring influence; of course, we willfully adopted these models as we had not been conquered by the Roman Empire as were other parts of the world.

This still leaves me to ponder: At one point and at what pace does the exchange and adoption of cultural information become embedded into the indigenous culture or even simply start to exist as historical markers in collective memory. And, as global westernization is occurring, developing, evolving, hybridizing, can this still be considered purely western if it undertaken willingly? Am I confusing westernization and modernization?

[Joanna Bourque]

Greetings!

My name is Joanna Bourque. I teach visual arts in elementary school (K-5). I have been teaching art integrated with various cultural themes for almost a decade. I have always held an interest in Asian arts and cultures. In college, my studio art focus was Japanese woodblock printmaking and I also was an Asian Studies minor. Having had studied Chinese language for four years and after having taken on tutoring and teaching Chinese 101 for my professor, I had even contemplated becoming a Chinese language teacher instead of an art teacher. 

I try to provide art lessons for my students each year that are related to Asian art and cultural themes, and I have been taking online seminars, webinars, and courses related to Asian art, history, and culture for a few years now. I am excited to delve more into Asian architecture and design and look forward to sharing our ideas.

[Joanna Bourque]

It was unexpectedly enlightening to see a brief glimpse of rural Nagoro and it's life sized dolls. I feel for the community of remaining elders, especially Tsukimi Ayano, who created the dolls to combat her loneliness. We have abandoned communities here in rural Appalachia, as well, which suffer from lack of infrastructure and access to jobs. 

Though the intent was to inform the public about Japan's population crisis, I could not help but to view the article and video from the perspective as an art teacher. The dolls that Tsukimi Ayano created are tied to the community, made in the image of those who had once lived there, and are a testament to the history of the village. The doll's presence is a statement of the impact of the person's absence. As a form of public inatallation art, this is phenomenal tribute to the former beating heart of the village.

[Joanna Bourque]

Greetings!

My name is Joanna Bourque and I have been teaching Visual Arts in public schools at the elementary level for eight years. I have some knowledge of East Asia (mainly China and Japan) as I was an Asian Studies minor (and three years Chinese language learner) in college. I am greatly interested in Asian art and cultures. I love introducing my students to Asian art and would like to have a firmer foundation for including a more diverse assemblage of traditional arts and artists from the different cultures with correct historical context.

I'm excited to be learning alongside all of you, and I look forward to meeting you!

 

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