Oh, I see! moments
Travel Cultures Language

Growing Radishes and Creativity

by Sheron Long on May 26, 2014

Radishes growing from the pages of a Japanese manga comic book, accomplished through the creative process of Koshi Kawachi (Image © Koshi Kawashi)

Radishes pop up in an icon of Japanese pop culture—manga comics.
© Koshi Kawashi

Take a Page from a Manga Comic Book

Creativity sprouts in likely places—i.e., anywhere:

In a Toronto street crack,

At the easel in a French atelier,

On a butcher-paper tablecloth in a Carmel cafe, or

Like this creative radish garden, within the pages of Japanese manga.

Planted by Tokyo artist Koshi Kawachi as part of his contemporary art series “Manga Farming,” the work places agriculture, a fundamental activity for the human race, in juxtaposition with a pastime of Japanese pop culture—manga comics.

A surprising seedbed? Perhaps. But manga—graphic novels of action and adventure, romance, sports, horror, business, and more—tell the tale of human life, the very life that is sustained by the food grown in the world.

Planting the Seeds of Creativity

Farming, even on the small scale of a vegetable garden, has more to say about creativity than you might think. Both involve a kind of  “playing in the dirt.”

Bed of radish seedlings, symbolizing how ideas pop up from a creative process that involves getting your hands dirty. (Image © S847 / iStock)

Like farming, creativity flourishes when you get your hands dirty.
© S847 / iStock

I don’t know how long it took Kawachi to create his artwork, but I imagine that it started with just the seed of an idea. Like real radish seeds nourished by rich soil, the seeds of creative ideas need a nurturing environment—time to grow, freedom to poke up in any direction, timely watering.

Pouring water onto radish seedlings sprouting from the pages of Japanese manga comics. (Image © Koshi Kawachi)

To grow a good idea, water well and wait a bit.
© Koshi Kawachi

Attending to Tender Ideas

When well-tended, the radish seed takes 25 days to grow into a leafy plant and bear the crunchy radish.

Radishes ready to harvest, symbolizing how farming is like the creative process in which good ideas yield fruit. (Image © HandmadePictures / iStock)

From seed to harvest—creative ideas, unlike the radish,
may not mature in a predictable number of days.
© HandmadePictures / iStock

Creativity works on its own timetable. But the creative process is more like growing veggies than not—caring hands must thin the crop, pull weeds outright, and support the good ideas as they grow.

Tying up radish seedlings that sprout from the pages of Japanese manga comics, symbolizing the need to take care of good ideas in the creative process. (Image © Koshi Kawachi)

Help out a sprout, and a flower pops out. That’s true of creative ideas, too.
© Koshi Kawachi

One of Kawachi’s good ideas was to plant the radish seeds like bookmarks on his favorite manga pages. Oh, I see the artist’s statement—he connected the seeds as symbols of necessary sustenance to the height of fleeting entertainment.

His ideas sprouted, grew, and flowered.

Flower on a radish plant seeded into the pages of Japanese manga comics, symbolizing a critical step in both the agricultural and creative process. (Image © Koshi Kawachi)

Radishes and creative ideas have to flower before they bear fruit.
© Koshi Kawachi

Crops on Display

When radish farmers spy the first red shoulders of the fruit, they know the payoff of the harvest is near—a literal feast for their tables.

Dinner plate with face made from black olives for eyes, red radish for nose, its green leaves for eyebrows, and a lemon slice for a smile, showing the fun of creativity. (Image © Julia Saponova / Hemera)

Creativity! It’s something to smile about.
© Julia Saponova / Hemera

Artists, however, often sense the completion of their work through a visceral feeling when it is just the way they want it—a feast for the eyes.

For one exhibit in the museum at the Matsuzakaya department store in Nagoya, Kawachi assembled dozens of manga farms, arranging them in long rows like those of a field, as solitary sprouts, and in aesthetic groupings.

Four manga farms on display, showing the result of Koshi Kawachi's creative process. (Image © Koshi Kawachi)

Kawachi’s manga farms on exhibit—a feast for the eyes with manga eyes staring back
© Koshi Kawachi

He encourages others to try the idea, following the manga farmer’s simple steps:

1. Read the manga.

2. Plant the seeds on the pages you like best.

3. Bring up vegetables.

Well, it might be necessary to repot the seedlings first. Even such repotting is part of becoming more creative. Artists will often tell you how their works start in one direction, growing and coming to lovely fruition only when redirected.

And so it is that out of the pages of Japanese manga comes a new chapter in understanding the creative process. Radishes and creativity—a fertile mash-up, one with crunch!

A single radish with leaves, symbol of what the creative process has in common with farming (Image © bajinda / iStock)

Crunch!
© bajinda / iStock

Follow Koshi Kawachi on Facebook

The Kyoto International Manga Museum has a collection of more than 50,000 manga. Stay in touch with current manga events online at the Toronto Comic Arts Festival

The Star-Spangled Banner Rides a Creative Wave

by Sheron Long on May 19, 2014

If video does not display, watch it here

Minor Key, Major Creative Thinking

Just before the “Play ball” call goes out in baseball stadiums across America, fans pause to honor an American tradition. Hand over heart, many sing along with “The Star-Spangled Banner.”

It’s a warm day, a happy time, and the music is in feel-good major key.

Then along comes Chase Holfelder who, honoring the tradition of creative thinking that built America, decides to experiment. He sings the song in minor key and delivers a performance described by many as “hauntingly beautiful.”

First Burst of Creativity

In September 1814 during the War of 1812, Francis Scott Key, a lawyer and amateur poet, began a poem on the back of a letter and thereby created what would become our national anthem. Originally titled “Defense of Fort M’Henry,” Key was inspired by seeing the US flag still flying after a night of heavy bombardment at Baltimore’s Fort McHenry.

The Star Spangled Banner flag that inspired the lyrics to the US national anthem in 1814 and whose music and lyrics have been impacted by the creative thinking of subsequent generations. (Image from the Smithsonian Institution Archives)

This Star Spangled Banner flag inspired the lyrics to the US national anthem during the Battle of Baltimore in the War of 1812. A linen backing added in 1914 indicates its original size that had been reduced by pieces cut off for souvenirs. Image from the Smithsonian Institution Archives

By November, the work had achieved popular acclaim—17 newspapers had printed the poem, and the Carr Music Company had published both words and music.

No Stopping the Flow of Creativity

By the early 1900s, several versions of the song existed. A panel of musicians, including  John Philip Sousa, standardized a major-key rendition that was adopted by Congress in 1931 as the US national anthem.

“The Star-Spangled Banner” was institutionalized at public sports events during WWII. Creative adaptations began with Jose Feliciano’s blues-style version during the 1968 World Series, causing both acclaim and controversy.

Since then, versions rock, show soul, speak country, follow a Latin beat, and more. So much so that critics have taken to choosing their top ten renditions.

 

Airmen presenting a 100-yard by 50-yard flag at the Las Vegas Bowl, 2006, while the audience sings "The Star-Spangled Banner," an anthem personalized over time by a century's worth of creative thinking. (Image © Stocktrek Images)

Airmen present a 100-yard by 50-yard flag during the national anthem at the Las Vegas Bowl, 2006.
© Stocktrek Images

 

When Creative Works Go Viral

With his minor key version, Chase Holfelder, a web producer and user experience designer, has now added his mark on the national anthem. Uploaded on April 22, 2014, it has already received over 1,200,000 views—a remarkable speed even in our age of social media.

While some protest what they call “tampering” with a patriotic icon, others are looking for a national vote to make the minor key version official. They hear it as a better fit for today’s America.

Holfelder’s audience see many creative possibilities:

“This needs to be on the new Godzilla soundtrack. I want to see this haunting tune set to slow motion depictions of soldiers and citizens fighting side-by-side for their lives as the sky burns and Cthulhu takes his throne.”

—Andrew Chason

“This should be the song Anthony and Joe Russo decide to use for the hopeful reunion of Steve and Bucky in Captain America 3.”

—Rachel Fortune

“I feel like this would be sung at Captain America’s funeral.”

—Alice Ampora

Meanwhile, another creative type has already remixed Holfelder’s version with the theme from Winter Soldier playing in the background. And Holfelder has gone on to release “Amazing Grace” in minor key.

Creativity builds on creativity.

Oh, I see. We may not know what’s next, but when it comes to creative thinking and “The Star-Spangled Banner,” the one thing we do know is that there will be a “next.”

Hey, Could You Please Block My View of This Mural?

by Bruce Goldstone on May 12, 2014

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Thumbing his nose at the rules of art appreciation?
© Bruce Goldstone

Obstructions and Street Art Appreciation

Like many photographers, my eye is constantly drawn to vibrant murals and colorful street art. I often stake out a spot in front of an exuberant wall and wait for the perfect, pristine moment to capture the image.

Art appreciation guidelines suggest that the artist’s message is best interpreted with as little interference as possible between you and the art.

I’ve spent plenty of time waiting for everyone to get out of the way so I can snap the perfect picture, free of unplanned interlopers. But now I’m not so sure that’s really the best way to catch the spirit and meaning of art created on public surfaces.

It’s Alive!

More and more often lately, I’ve stopped waiting for everyone to clear out. I just snap away.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

An addled face responds to the rhythms of street traffic.
© Bruce Goldstone

When I go back through my photos, I find that the shots with people in front of them often capture the sensation of viewing street art much better than the pristine gallery shot.

An “Oh, I see” moment came when I was trying to choose the best picture of a mural in San Telmo, Buenos Aires. The shot I took of only the artwork was a fine, clear record.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Nice pic, but something’s missing,
© Bruce Goldstone

But the photos with people passing by the mural do a much better job of capturing the playful way the giant apes interact with their close-kin cousins on the street.

Three photos of a mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Add a few more primates and a hidden energy springs to life.
© Bruce Goldstone

I’ve come to realize that the interaction between the passersby and the art is an important part of the message in street art.

Random Acts of Finesse

The more photos I take of people in front of murals, the more instances I find of happy accidents and lively synchronicities. Of course, these visual events happen whether or not a camera’s there to record them. They’re a built-in part of the street art experience.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Follow the bouncing arrow
© Bruce Goldstone

A rubbery arrow seems to push this woman along the sidewalk.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

A passing red jacket adds a vibrant burst to the color palette.
© Bruce Goldstone

Colors recombine in surprising and appealing ways, turning people—and their clothing—into part of the design.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Waiting for the game to start
© Bruce Goldstone

Contrasting energies create tension and interest. A young soccer player waits for friends to arrive, while the wall in front of him is already in full play mode.

Part of the Art

Even though it seems contradictory, I now believe that street art looks best when you can’t see everything clearly. Obstructions are constructive.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Blending in and adding dimension
Bruce Goldstone

It’s the reason that gallery shows of street are are so often disappointing. The sterile viewing conditions of a museum don’t enhance our view of street art—they limit it.

Mural in Buenos Aires, Argentina, illustrating how street art appreciation thrives on interactions with the public. (Image © Bruce Goldstone)

Visual overload can be a good thing.
Bruce Goldstone

Of course, murals and other street art are best viewed in person, surrounded by the pulsing action in which they were created.

But since I can’t curb the desire to capture this energy in photos, I’ve adjusted my street art appreciation to include the web of people, pets, and other features that I once thought of as unwanted obstacles. Now I see them as part of the art.

Comment on this post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

Copyright © 2011-2025 OIC Books   |   All Rights Reserved   |   Privacy Policy