Senso-ga and Fujita Tsuguharu

Abstract-ish

This post will be about Fujita Tsuguharu, known as one of the most influential and renowned artist in this century. Little is known that he used to be a propagandist during the wartime, thus he was on the list of wartime criminals for his senso-ga, or wartime propaganda art, by the Japan Art Association. Nevertheless, he succeeded in establishing his career as an artist after fleeing to France permanently. This post will examine the ways in which Fujita is held responsible for the war, and philosophically evaluate Fujita’s assertion, “artists were always pacifists and nature thus could not be militarists.”

Introduction-ish

Ever since Kazuo Ishiguro won the Nobel Prize in Literature last year, I began to re-read his works and re-confirmed that my favorite Ishiguro book is “An Artist of the Floating World.”




The novel is set in post-WWII Japan and the protagonist is an ageing artist who used to be a propagandist, promoting imperialist and nationalist beliefs among the layman. As opposed to his glamorous reputation during the war, he suffers from social stigma and criticisms in the aftermath for his past deeds, collaborating with the government to generate fanatic fascist beliefs. The narrative structure is just fantastic. I love unreliable narrators.




Before I get too carried away talking about how amazing Kazuo Ishiguro is, I would like to talk about real propagandists in Japan...and the terrible ways in which the wartime contaminates figures with the most brilliant talents.




The topic of this post is senso-ga (戦争画) or wartime propaganda art, and a former Japanese propagandist, Tsuguharu Fujita (藤田嗣治). He began producing art for the government by 1933. However, since the way he got treated after the war is also interesting, the scope of this post will be expanded for discussion.




The reason why I chose Fujita among other Japanese propagandists is that I found him to be an incredibly interesting figure who can open up numerous discourses that revolve around the ethical dimensions and responsibilities of artists during the war.




Fujita claimed that “artists were always pacifists and nature thus could not be militarists” when he got denounced as a “shameless prostitute” that contributed to the military campaign. The Japan Art Association deemed Fujita guilty for lending his talents to boost militaristic ideologies in 1948. Fujita permanently left Japan for France at 1951, and declared at the airport, “Painters, please just paint pictures. Do not quarrel with your colleagues. Japanese art communities, please catch up with the world standard.”




Thus, the purpose of this post would be slightly philosophical, and might be tilted toward multiple ethical questions; To what extent are propagandists responsible for the war? Or, is it fair to blame propagandists for the war? Or, it could go the other way around; is it fair to evaluate Fujita’s war art without contemplating his personal responsibility? Can Fujita ever be absolved from his war responsibilities?




These questions are too big to cover within a single blog post, so I will simply keep this in mind while writing this post.




I also drew many parallels between Fujita and the protagonist of “An Artist of the Floating World,” Ono, in that they both were recognized as prolific and bright artists during the war, however, in the aftermath, were perceived as being guilty for having “war responsibility (戦争責任).” However, as opposed to Ono who would probably spend his whole life vacillating between his attempt to deal with his past and denial of his responsibilities and guilt, Fujita managed to develop a new persona as one of the most influential artists of this era.

Senso-ga and FUJITA TSUGUHARU

Tsuguharu Fujita, otherwise known as Léonard Tsuguharu Fujita, is called the “the most important Japanese artist working in the West during the 20th century,” however, he used to be a producer of militaristic propaganda during the war, which embraced fascist, imperialist and expansionist beliefs. “War art (戦争画)” is perhaps considered the most problematic form of war art.




He is especially known for his “Book of Cats” published in New York by Covici Friede in 1930, as it was one of the top 500 rare books ever sold, and is ranked by book dealers as “the most popular and desirable book on cats ever published.” No wonder.








(If you are interested in the “Book of Cats,” check out this website!)


I found an intriguing paper, “Fujita Tsuguharu Retrospective 2006: Resurrection of a Former Official War Painter” by Asato Ikeda, where he evaluates Fujita Tsuguharu’s war art exhibition that was politically charged in an immense way. He takes into account the museum’s representation of Fujita’s personal history and Japan’s national history, and examines why Fujita was able to create a new persona as a prestigious, cosmopolitan artist after being severely accused for his past deeds. I also found another paper by Ikeda, “Japan’s Haunting War Art: Contested War Memories and Art Museums” that was originally from the aforementioned paper, but I will also include some of the points from this paper as well.




Regardless of his artistic talents, Fujita is clearly a problematic figure in that he decided to leave Japan in the midst of judgements casted upon war criminals domestically. He did not confront the accusations made against him, and it is not surprising that Fujita was arraigned on his actions to escape his responsibilities.






Battle on the Banks of the Khalkha, Nomonhan, 1941



Paratroopers at Palembang, 1942 (https://artinjapan.sites.ku.dk/2015/08/25/art-and-war/)




As response to a prominent Japanese author, Tanaka Jo who described Fujita as a “well-skilled” yet “evil-minded” painter guilty for “dump(ing)” Japan when he was placed in an inconvenient position, Fujita wrote back a scornful and lamenting account, suggesting that “the Japanese are so jealous of me that they want to bully me” by “conspire(ing)” against him behind his back, and cried “they(the Japanese) owe me in that I have helped them and have painted for them, but they have forgotten my kindness” concluding that he is “truly unhappy.”




Fujita’s wife added, “If you cannot fairy evaluate him, please forget him” and “It was not that Fujita dumped Japan, but that Japan dumped Fujita.”




In other words, in their accounts, Fujita is a victim of war.




However, I beg to differ.




Fujita gained recognition and fame by producing art for the government, which was also reflected on how he received awards like the Asahi Newspaper Culture Award. He also enjoyed his authoritative position as President of the Army Art Association, and expressed his delight in the art magazine, bijutsu in 1943, stating that: “I feel that I have dedicated my right arm to the nation. How rewarding it is that painters can directly contribute to the nation!” He admits to the fact that his art had influence on the nation.




Furthermore, as Ozaki Masaaki, an art historian had strongly argued, an artist, the work, and their personalities, behaviors and the society are intertwined. Fujita cannot enjoy his accomplishments unless there is some degree of personalities and voice reflected on his artworks, which is exactly why his paintings are on the verge of oblivion. They must both be assessed. As Ozaki had also stated, the lines between the private life and artwork are fine, and it is a mystery where they cross each other. Ozaki insists that Fujita’s case is complex because his lines had never intersected.




While the role of artists during wartime is an extremely controversial topic, Fujita’s actions of fleeing Japan, behaviors of that of a victim and shutting out any introspective attitudes should be deemed guilty.




Though there is room for empathy in that Fujita’s wartime activities were a product of the government and social factors to a certain extent, the fact that he contributed to the nation and enjoyed his high position during the war makes it difficult to consider him a “victim.”





Bibliography




Asato Ikeda, “Fujita Tsuguharu Retrospective 2006: Resurrection of a Former Official War Painter,” Josai University Review of Japanese Culture and Society, vol. 21 (December 2009): 97-115.




Asato Ikeda, “Japan’s Haunting War Art: Contested War Memories and Art Museums,” disClosure: A Journal of Social Theory, vol. 18 (April 2009): 5-32.