Poem No. 23: Fish 1954

Koshiro Onchi made Poem No. 23: Fish with watercolor and ink on paper; it's not dated but feels like a spontaneous act. Look at how the shapes float in this abstract space, defined by a dreamy blue outline, like the edge of a thought. The texture is key. See how the watercolor bleeds and pools, creating soft edges? Then there's that solid black shape, like a wing, or maybe a dark fin, anchoring the composition. The red lines squiggle around, adding a playful energy. Notice how the colors aren’t mixed so much as laid down, one after another, each retaining their own distinct character. It all reminds me of Hilma af Klint's spiritual diagrams, or maybe Joan Miró's biomorphic forms. Onchi isn't trying to represent a fish literally; he's capturing a feeling, an essence. It’s a process of intuitive mark-making, where the act of painting becomes a form of poetry. The ambiguity invites us to bring our own interpretations, to see what we want to see. That's the beauty of art, right? It's an open conversation.