Japonisme exhibit at AMAM no more than collection of single works without cultural blend

It might be self-indulgent to call the Japonisme show an exhibit since the phrase "room with pretty things" is just as appropriate, if not more.

Though some of the etchings, the iridescent glass vases, the glazed earthenware, the color woodcuts and lithographs have an interesting and even pleasing aesthetic to them, this appears less because of their link to the putative art movement of Japonisme than to the inherent simplicity of their form. It is obviously not a indication of genius to note that aesthetics is a subjective study.

The Japonisme exhibit is an exception to this rule, since it appears to have all of the characteristics of a universally unimpressive exhibit. The curious Euro-Japanese art afficionado will be disgruntled and probably even hard-pressed to understand why the Allen Memorial Art Musuem asks for a donation afterwards.

In 1858, Japan re-opened its national borders to the Western world; this created a freeflowing cultural exchange between Europe, the United States and Japan. Japonisme is a term used to refer to the mass democratization of European art as it was affected by the traditional functionalism and technical precision of Japanese pottery and ceramics. On a more cynical and less historical definition, Japonisme was a movement that was never self-defined. The artists, as the sign in the Japonisme exhibit points out, had little or no knowledge of Japanese culture; unfortunately, this is far too obvious.

In the Goblet Room are three basic genres: the lithograph, the woodcut and the ceramic. The Japonisme exhibit begins with some color and monochromatic lithographs of Paul Ranson, Toulouse-Lautrec and Pierre Bonnard. Bonnard, considered by many to have been the artist most influenced by Japanese aesthetics, was the also the most prominent member of the Nabi group (French artists inspired by the angularity and the flat support of Japanese printmaking).

"Le Bain," by Bonnard is an especially appealing lithograph with its expressive solemnity and simple female delineation. Because a bathing woman was a popular subject of Japanese art for centuries , "Le Bain" is reportedly Japanese in form. Unfortunately, "Houses on a Court" is not as good as "Le Bain;" somewhere, someone is getting famous for submitting his child's sixth grade coloring assignment. The other lithographs are more clearly influenced by Japanese aesthetics, and yet they do not seem to capture one's attention as well either.

The woodcuts in the Japonisme exhibit are especially fascinating; their precision is second only to their bright colorfulness. Felix Vallotton, Henri-Charles Guerard, Clifton Karhu and Helen Hyde comprise the most poignant aspect of the exhibition with their bold, abstract patterns, circular formats and in the case of Vallotton's piece, politico-satirical commentary.

Surely it is a bad indication of the quality of an exhibition when the woodcuts end up taking home the golden trophy (though Guerard's "Masques Grotesques" should be excluded from this praise. Though certainly splendid examples of the precise, Japanese artform, these woodcuts do not compensate for an otherwise insipid and pitifully small selection.

The ceramics are perhaps the most atrocious part of Japonisme exhibit. Though entirely appropriate as art, it is the title of Japonisme which puts the observer in disbelief. On one hand, the iridescent glass of Tiffany Studios and the Cameo Glass of Emile Galle is surprisingly excellent (if such a thing is possible).

The glazed earthenware, on the other hand, donated from the Rookwood Pottery Company (an exotic fortress of Japonisme, located in Cincinnati, of all places) tries so hard to find a place in the exhibit that it would not be appropriate even if it was placed on "The Shopping Network." Because the makers of the raku tea vessels were "inspired" by traditional Japanese ceramics, this somehow means that they must be part of the Japonisme movement.

It is hard to decide whether it is the collection or the so-called movement itself which is the culplrit in Allen Memorial Art Museum's wasted exhibit. Unless painting lobsters, using crooked crayons lines, inverting Meiji art forms and reducing Japanese art to a law of simple and abstracted forms is somehow specifically Japanese in nature, much of the Japonisme exhibit is a travesty of Japanese art. But as Western art, it is merely an amateur collection of minor works with an unsuccessful cultural blend.

Japonisme as an European movement might very well exist; as an exhibit, however, its existence is too simple and abstract.