Funsyutu 1997

Kazuo Shiraga made *Funsyutu* with oil on paper, and you can almost feel the speed and force of the gesture. I see an image built from bold strokes of black paint, splattered and smeared across the white surface. Imagine Shiraga, maybe on the floor, working instinctively. I wonder if he attacked the paper, or if he let the painting emerge gradually through a process of trial and error, of intuitive actions. There is an energy and confidence in the mark-making, a really raw, physical engagement with the materials. The thick paint is thrown, pushed, and pulled. That central, looping form is so dynamic, like a dark whirlpool. I imagine Shiraga being in conversation with other painters, like Franz Kline or maybe even some of the earlier Japanese calligraphers. This piece feels like part of a larger dialogue about the possibilities of painting, about how it can be both controlled and completely wild. It reminds me that artists build on each other’s ideas, constantly pushing the boundaries of what painting can be. It's a reminder that art is never truly finished, but constantly evolving.