A small life sparkles in the microcosm of Ohara Koson
~Leaving the city for a little trip~

I first learned about the Japanese painter Ohara Koson through an official Twitter post from the Chigasaki City Museum of Art.

In the painting titled " Dancing Fox ," a fox wearing a lotus leaf on its head is dancing playfully with its arms raised. Its fluffy fur and soft-looking paws... I was instantly captivated by the painting, which was carefully drawn down to the smallest detail.

I thought for sure that the person who painted this picture had carefully depicted even the tiniest bit of light reflected in a creature's eyes, or the way leaves fall, as if they were breathing life into the subject.

As soon as I realized that Chigasaki was only about a two-hour drive from my home, I decided to go to the Chigasaki City Museum of Art that weekend.

*Chigasaki City Museum of Art 20th Anniversary Exhibition - Beauty of Prints II - Hara Yasusaburo Collection Ohara Koson - Eden of Flowers and Birds - Ohara Koson (real name Ohara Matao) was born in Kanazawa City in 1877. He studied under Suzuki Kason, a Japanese painter who specialized in flower and bird paintings. At the end of the Meiji period, he published flower and bird paintings through the publisher Daikokuya, and gained popularity for producing rough sketches for printing with the aim of exporting overseas. In the Showa period, he continued to produce works under the name Shoson through the Watanabe Print Shop, and under the name Toyoson for joint printing by Sakai Kokodo and Kawaguchi Shokai.
Obara's works have been highly acclaimed abroad, but have not been well known in Japan. This exhibition will be the world's first public showing of 230 of Koson's works from the Hara Collection, which are in excellent condition for printing and preservation. In addition to the reference exhibit of works by Shoson and Hoson, the exhibition will also feature 10 precious flower and bird paintings by Utagawa Hiroshige and Utagawa Kuniyoshi from the same collection.
Source: Art Notebook

Take the train to Chigasaki.

As we pass Shinagawa, the skyscrapers disappear.

As we approached the Tama River, the scenery outside the train window changed from the city to a leafy suburban landscape. I felt the same sensation as when I went back to my parents' house and the tension in my shoulders started to ease as the mountains came into view from the Shinkansen train window.

It takes about 10 minutes on foot from Chigasaki Station to reach the Chigasaki Museum of Art. The museum is adjacent to Takasago Green Space, and you can see it just past the Japanese garden. It felt like time flows slowly here.

I heard that it was featured on Sunday Art Museum and that there are days when admission is restricted, but because I left home late, I arrived around 3pm. There was no line and I was able to enter easily.

The works are exhibited throughout the seasons, from spring to winter.

In spring, warblers rest on the branches of plum trees, in summer yellow butterflies appear on sunflowers, in autumn Mejiro flowers appear on ripe persimmons, and in winter herons appear in the gently falling snow.

The level of detail is astonishing. The scene in the painting comes to mind, and the creatures depicted seem to come to life before your eyes. You feel as if you are looking at the same scenery through Koson's eyes.

Spring is warm with the occasional chilly breeze, summer is muggy, autumn is sweet with ripe fruit, autumn skies are high, and winter is bitterly cold. You can feel the atmosphere of a place from a single painting.

As I was leaving, a woman called out to me, "The moon is beautiful. It's the fifteenth night of the full moon."

When I asked, "Where are you from?"
"I'm from Kamakura. I hurriedly finished my housework this morning. I need this kind of time every once in a while. I'm really glad I came."

I also nodded deeply.

Since I'd come this far, I thought I might as well stop by the sea on my way back, so I headed to Chigasaki Southern Beach.

When I heard about the Shonan sea, I had an image of it being a noisy place, but it was actually a very quiet and beautiful sea.
It was a clear day, so the sunset was beautiful, and as I watched the sun go down, I was reminded of this.

About four months after moving to Tokyo, I was feeling unwell so I took a day off from work and went to the local doctor in the evening, and was on my way home.
A fiery sunset could be seen through the gaps between the buildings.
I walked to work, so this was a road I walked along every day at the time, but it was a view I'd never seen before.
The time to travel along this road ranges from mid-morning when the sun is out and it's bright outside until the sun has completely set and it's completely dark.

I wonder when was the last time I saw a sunset.
In fact, I had forgotten what it meant to "watch the sunset."

When I lived in the countryside, I think I was able to notice little things better, like a beautiful sunset or a pretty sky.

Living in the city, busy with work and play, staring at my laptop in a building at sunset, I never get captivated by the scenery, and I forget to take a deep breath.
Thinking about it, I had been feeling overwhelmed by my emotions lately.

After looking at the beautiful paintings and the tranquil sea, I headed home feeling like I had taken a deep breath for the first time in a while.