星空传媒视频

Jane Chau
Integrative Seminar, 300-308-DW

Zen Buddhism, a school of Mahayana Buddhism that asserts that enlightenment can be attained through meditation, self-contemplation, and intuition seems to have a strong relationship with the visual arts, as seen in Japanese Buddhist monks having produced calligraphies, poetry, and paintings. These artworks were a way of offering insights into an alternative way of living 鈥� a simpler way of life, that counters the relentless 鈥渂usyness鈥� of the world, which is very prevalent in Western culture. Therefore, the use of Buddhist concepts of self, illusion and materiality offer contemporary Western artists a method for creating meaning in their personal and political lives. Contemporary art offers a deeper understanding of Buddhist meditative practice by exploring the themes of impermanence, emptiness, and the non-self, which deepens our understanding of the meaning of art, in turn. This project seeks to go beyond what it might teach artists 鈥� encouraging both artistic and academic disciplines to reflect and dive deeper into our own personal lives. Through a combined methodology of semi-structured interviews with two Zen residents: Natalie Watson from the Cambridge Zen Center located in Massachusetts and Line Nault, from the Montreal Zen Center, as well as an auto-ethnographical exploration, this project studies the intersection of art and Zen. Zazen, a practice which teaches how to empty the self, offers artists a way to connect to the creative process in ways that questions how we ascribe meaning, encouraging artists and Zen practitioners alike to abandon the trappings of the 鈥渟elf鈥� and to privilege the process over product.

Research Design

The data for this research was gathered through semi-structured interviews with practicing Zen residents. The first participant is Natalie Watson who lives in Juneau, Alaska. She is remotely filling in for the administrative director role at the Cambridge Zen Center in Massachusetts, having lived at the Cambridge Zen Center for seven years. The second participant is Line Nault from Montreal, Quebec. She has been a practicing resident at the Montreal Zen Center for five years and is a multidisciplinary artist who has directed and choreographed many artistic government-funded shows in the city. This research method was best suited for my interviews because semi-structured interviews allow 鈥渢he interviewer greater say in focusing the conversation on issues that he or she deems important in relation to the research project鈥� (Brinkmann 21), which means that I was able to direct the interview towards a more artistic conversation about Zen Buddhism. The interviews were conducted over Zoom, an online videoconference platform, which meant that we were able to meet face-to-face. This made it possible for me to meet Natalie Watson who lives all the way in Alaska. Finally, I designed the questions in such a way as to focus on the thoughts, feelings, and experiences with Zen philosophy, meditative practice, and its impact on their lives.

In order to complement the data collected from the semi-structured interviews, I conducted an autoethnography in order to test the relationship between Zen and art, and to examine the ideas that came up in the interviews firsthand. Autoethnography offers a 鈥渄eep and careful self-reflection鈥�showing people the process of figuring out what to do, how to live, and the meaning of their struggles鈥� (Adams 2). Therefore, I could better understand the concepts of Zen Buddhism if I start living a disciplined life of simplicity as an experiment, while recording the struggles that come with it. Borrowing doctoral student Jeremy Michael Blair鈥檚 method of Animated Autoethnography, I used arts-based inquiry to 鈥渕ove beyond observations, interviews, and statistics by looking inward at the vulnerable self鈥� (Blair 8). This means that if I allowed myself to be vulnerable and open-minded, I would be able to reflect on the ambiguities, ambivalences and contradictions that surfaced from my artwork. Therefore, I spent more time preparing for my art-based autoethnography than I did designing questions and conducting the interviews. I had to physically and emotionally prepare myself to paint in a way that I was not accustomed to, which required learning how to incorporate zazen into my daily routine.

Findings: Interviews 鈥� Zen and the Arts

The first key finding was that both interviewees are artists. Following insightful conversations about their experiences practicing Zen, and how it impacted their art, I got to see what their art looked like. Natalie Watson made Rorschach art, which involves putting paint down, folding it over, undoing it and working with whatever appeared. In this way, her art is directly influenced by Zen: letting things happen spontaneously and working with whatever appears.

Line Nault, a contemporary dancer and performance artist who works with interactive media and technology, described in detail her project, Non de nom. The title, she told me, means 鈥渋t鈥檚 impossible!鈥� in English, underscoring the role of Buddhism in her life, and understanding the limits of what is possible. She explains her project as 鈥淸placing] different tools in the room and my dancers and performers try to find where they are, by different ways of moving, and different technological tools.聽 For example, there is a curtain. And there is white in the back. And they try to cross the wall between the curtains. A lot of concepts in Zen are about how you have an immediate penetration about who you are 鈥� it鈥檚 like as if the materiality is dissolving. The performers try to cross the wall, but we have a technological system built in so that when they open the curtains, it changes sound, and when they go into it, they are all filmed and it鈥檚 going on a screen, but there is a delay in time. They disappear behind the wall, but in the image, they are appearing and disappearing. They also go downstairs from a stairway and hide in a sleeping bag, but on the projections, we see the person nude in a cocoon. It鈥檚 all playing on the perception of reversing things from the self, and the materiality of the world we are living in. Are the images we see really who they are? It鈥檚 the idea that we have a fascination with our image.鈥�

It challenges the question: 鈥淎re the images we see really who they are?鈥� As Zen master Albert Low has stated, 芦 le monde que je per莽ois comprend mes souvenirs, mes d茅sirs, mes craintes, mes illusions et tout le reste. Mais alors, qui, ou quoi, est ce 芦 moi 禄 ? Qui suis-je ? Qui r锚ve ? 禄 (Low 140). Low was a great influence in Line鈥檚 Buddhist practice, and she expressed a desire to have met him before he passed away.

Findings: Interviews 鈥� Zen Practice

The second key finding is that Natalie and Line both addressed the 鈥済reat question鈥� – this is what attracted them to Zen. Natalie suggests that if you repeatedly ask 鈥済reat questions鈥� in your meditation practice deeply and sincerely: 鈥淲hat is life and death? Where do I go after I die? What is this life all about? What should I be doing? What am I? Who am I? Those big questions in life keep us on the path, I think,鈥� you can eventually get to a, as Zen monk Suzuki puts it, 鈥渄on鈥檛-know鈥� mind, which is clear like space, a place where your intuition will show you what is true, describing it as 鈥渁rousing your mind without resting on anything,鈥� which means to be present and not think about anything. This is like the idea of 鈥渧ast emptiness,鈥� which is having the ability to 鈥淸accept] things as they are鈥�[one] can appreciate everything. In everything they do, even though it may be very difficult, they will always be able to dissolve their problems by constancy鈥� (Suzuki 86). They both also described their Zen meditation practices as extremely impactful when they could practice together as a community, and that community played a large role in bringing about the humility in each other since they were required to live, meditate, and work together.

Findings: Interviews 鈥� The Personal and the Political

The third key finding is the artists鈥� purpose. Natalie鈥檚 pursuit of Buddhism is motivated by her desire to find purpose in her life after leaving an unhappy marriage. Her suffering led to an existential crisis, which then led her to the Cambridge Zen Center. After years as a practicing resident, she finally found peace and happiness. Line, on the other hand, is motivated by her quest for social and political change. She is a passionate dancer and performance artist, seeking to combine the somatic field, technology, live art, and Zen Buddhism to provoke an awakening in others. She says, 鈥淚 thought people in Zen could be able to 鈥榢eep it quiet鈥� and of course, they are trying to help the community because we are alone in our home, but now there is an overload. And when it comes to the media, posting tons of pictures is just pollution. Is it really that interesting for everybody to see your spaghetti, or to see you on the beach? Are you really into living or experiencing when you鈥檙e doing that? I think technology is a good tool, but we must choose what we do with it and take our time to digest. It鈥檚 good that we can meet like this face-to-face together, but at certain a point, how much overload can I do in a day?鈥� Therefore, Zen Buddhism offers possibilities for peace of mind in both our personal and political lives. This idea also extends also to the digitization of our advanced capitalist society. In an age that is all too dependent on technology, social media and materialism, zazen offers Line and Natalie an alternative.

Findings: Art-Based Autoethnography

In order to move from merely 鈥渒nowing鈥� the ideas that Line and Natalie talked about, to actually 鈥渦nderstanding鈥� them as experience, I embarked on my own experiment of meditation and arts-based inquiry. This meant, first, becoming acquainted with the principles of meditation, and second, to 鈥渦nlearn鈥� my old ways of doing art. I first learned how to practice zazen, a form of sitting meditation, before making the art. I do not engage in any meditative practice in my daily life, so this was new for me. I practiced sitting upright in lotus position, pressing my diaphragm down and concentrating on inhaling and exhaling. Physically and mentally, I found the meditation sessions difficult. I realized it must take many practices to be able to 鈥渟it with painful legs without being disturbed鈥� (Suzuki 41). I 鈥渟at鈥� twice for thirty minutes, followed by digital drawing sessions; notes from these sessions were recorded in a journal. I was not surprised that I struggled 鈥渢o obtain perfect calmness鈥�[one] should not be bothered by the various images in [one鈥檚] mind鈥� (Suzuki 32). I structured my drawing sessions the same way I structured the meditations. Hoping to achieve the emptiness, selflessness, and spontaneity that my interviewees described, I allowed myself only to draw in black and white, and I was not allowed to change my brush strokes or brush size or use any other functions other than drawing. I used no frames of reference, and I could not edit, erase, or reset my artwork if I did not like something. I could not listen to music, check my phone, drink water, or leave to use the bathroom. I had to accept that these challenges would arise because I normally draw as a way of 鈥渄oing something鈥� instead of 鈥渄oing nothing.鈥� I had to remain open to ambiguities during the session 鈥� I had to let the drawing unravel on its own. After this first session I drew a candle using an electronic drawing tablet (the irony of using technology was not lost on me!).

Zen teaches that 鈥渋f something comes into your mind, let it come in, and let it go out. It will not stay long鈥� (Suzuki 34). Therefore, whatever image appeared on the canvas was spontaneous. I was not as relaxed, I could feel the pressure of my fingers pushing down the pen onto the tablet, I think I was feeling pressure within myself to perform. It was also difficult not being able to listen to music on my headphones. I realized later that I could attach symbolic meaning to the candle or offer a personal interpretation 鈥� that it represents the ethereal self that alights in the darkness – but ultimately my drawings were minimalist and entirely 鈥渧oid鈥� of deeper meaning, which is not usually my style. Any intellectual description of the art would be an artificial and a largely inadequate interpretation of the actual experience of drawing the candle. The meaning of this image is not deliberate, an important lesson in our interpretation of art and the meanings that we ascribe to 鈥渢hings.鈥�

After my second session I drew a feather. With the same minimalist character, the brush strokes are light, and there are many of them. I found this session much more enjoyable.

Again, I can offer an 鈥渁cademic鈥� interpretation: the feather represents the joy in that moment and the flight and freedom of the suspended self, but I am not sure that interpretation matters. These were simply images that appeared in my mind. Zen teaches they do not last long, so I drew them. I was surprised that only after two sessions (amounting to only one hour of meditation), I came to rather profound conclusions about the nature of art in general, and about why I do art. Like the questions of self that zazen confronts us with, so too are these questions applicable to art: where does meaning come from?

By contrast, I often paint portraits of real women. These portraits are digitally painted too, except I have access to menus, layouts, interfaces, panels, and various tools to illustrate, modify, adjust, distort, or filter. Also, these paintings are complete, with either a sociological or political perspective.

Through this autoethnography, guided by wisdom borrowed from Line and Natalie, I realized that the assumption that I would produce something great as an artist is a symptom of my mind not emptying itself, which is something I always struggle with when making art. Thus, I learned to enjoy the simple physical movements of my hand, and this made me appreciate being alive. I learned how to be comfortable with the unknown, and to privilege the process over the product.

Suggestions for Future Research

In conclusion, since Zen centers are places where people come together to practice as a community 鈥� if I had six months instead of six weeks to conduct weekly interviews while participating in a retreat myself, as well as carrying out a collaborative art project as another type of arts-based autoethnography, I could provide more interesting insights to my research questions. In both interviews and my own autoethnographic research, the personal experiences were explored, but Zen has a strong community aspect, thus this could raise another research question: in what way does zazen offer a sense of peace and well-being in a communal way? Finally, our Western society鈥檚 fascination with Zen Buddhism could further be explored. Buddhism is reflected not only in Western contemporary art, as discussed in this paper, but has also found its way into popular culture. While Zen concepts and meditative practices are regularly co-opted into the mainstream, and thus risk being emptied of some of their authenticity, even a watered-down version of Buddhism offers an austere contemplation to an often-materialistic society.

Works Cited

Adams, Tony E. et al. Autoethnography. Oxford University Press, 2015.

Blair, Jeremy Michael. 鈥淎nimated Autoethnographies: Stop Motion Animation as a Tool for Self-Inquiry and Personal Evolution.鈥澛�Art Education, vol. 67, no. 2, 2014, pp. 6鈥�13.,

Brinkmann, Svend. Qualitative Interviewing. Oxford University Press, 2013.

Low, Albert. 芦聽La transmission selon la tradition zen.聽禄聽尝颈产别谤迟茅, volume 44, 茅dit茅 et traduit par Jacinthe Dessureault, num茅ro 3 (257), septembre 2002, p.聽135鈥�148.

Plante, Ariane. Photograph of Line Nault鈥檚 Non de nom, Agora de la danse, 16 Feb. 2021, www.agoradanse.com/blogue/2021/02/vivarium-technologique.

Suzuki, Shunryu. Zen Mind, Beginner鈥檚 Mind. Weatherhill, New York, 1970.

Watson, Natalie. 鈥淧eacock.鈥� 2016, www.nataliewatson.org/2016/01/19/art-and-design-blog.