Naoko Mikami, a renowned calligrapher and translator specializing in Japanese martial arts and traditional culture, explores how calligraphy transcends aesthetics to convey profound thoughts and emotions in episode 88 of the Ikigai Podcast.
*Watch the full playlist above.
Personal Journey into Professional Calligraphy
Naoko shares the inspiration behind her passion for calligraphy and how it led her to pursue it as a full-time career.
Born to do calligraphy
Nick: As you know, I stumbled upon your amazing calligraphy via LinkedIn. But I was also really impressed by your explanations, these insightful explanations and stories related to the proverbs and words that you brush.
And I've already learned so much from you. So would you like to share your journey to becoming a professional calligrapher?
Naoko: I don't remember exactly, I think I was around seven when I started calligraphy. My cousin started to go to a small private calligraphy school in town, so I wanted to join them. Actually, at the same time, they started learning classical ballet, too.
And I really wanted to do it rather than calligraphy, but my parents didn't say okay to ballet. I suspect that they couldn't afford ballet. Anyway, so I just went to calligraphy with my cousins. And I think I wasn't a passionate student.
First of all, I didn't like the school because it smelled bad. Now that I think about it, I remember, I realized it was the smell of rotting ink. Ink is made with soot in animal glue, it can mold or rot. And the glue itself has a strong smell.
So incense is mixed to mask the smell. The expensive ink use high quality incenses and typically smell nice, but this high temperature and humidity can ruin them. So when you handle the Japanese ink, better to be careful.
Nick: Okay, I didn't know this.
Naoko: Anyway, I remember the rotting smell and I didn't like it. And I also remember that are no hot water in the school. So we needed to clean the brush with cold water and my hands got damaged in winter, it’s so cold. Also, I remember the teacher was not very adapted to young kids. The class was not very interesting to me. At the time also, we needed to do calligraphy subject in elementary school, and I was scolded by a teacher in front of everyone; ‘Your Calligraphy is not good at all.’ That hurt me a lot. So naturally, very quickly, I hated calligraphy and I quit. I was over it after a very short period.
But fortunately, because my parents were busy all the time, I was raised by my grandmother. She was a poet and a calligrapher, so she taught me calligraphy. She was strict, but at least her ink smelled good. She was patient, very much. So I studied with her for a long time.
Nick: She was obviously, perhaps, a more generous and kind teacher?
Naoko: Yes, I think so. She motivated me better than others. Then I became a teenager, I started to be mostly interested in Western culture, like movies, music, literature, fashion. So I kind of put aside calligraphy, again.
Then my first job, I was a staff at International Budo University, which is a very famous place in Japan for martial arts. The thing is that I couldn't do calligraphy anymore because I was busy with work. But on the other hand, I met many famous Japanese historians, and also martial arts experts. Sometimes I helped them with their projects.
And so for many years, I was immersed by this old samurai culture, history, and Japanese traditions. That was fun. Although, I didn't do calligraphy anymore, I had the opportunity to learn many philosophical aspects about Japan. But working in a Japanese company is never easy.
Nick: I hear it's very hard.
Naoko: Yeah. Relationship, inefficiency, conservativeness, too much stress. So I decided to quit. And luckily, I could quit and went to Taiwan. At first, in Taiwan, I was a bit lost. After serving a company for many years, this total freedom confused me. I didn't know what to do. But I was surrounded by people in art world, and they pushed me to do calligraphy again.
I hesitated for a while. But anyway, I decided to do. Then I started a different project related to art and calligraphy, Art Curator Japan. I did my first major exhibition in France in 2018, I think. And I really didn't know what to expect, but to my surprise, I sold everything.
Nick: Oh, really? Wow.
Naoko: Yes. That's where I decided to do this full time.
Nick: That would have been a very affirming, life-affirming and wonderful experience to sell all your work. Like that's the hardest thing of an artist, is to sell their work.
Naoko: Exactly. I didn't expect much.
Nick: Well, that's a fascinating history. So maybe you were born to do calligraphy.
Naoko: I don't know. But I hope so.
Cultivating a Calligraphy Style
Naoko believes that while calligraphy can be appreciated as art, its true value lies in the meaning of the characters, historically used to inspire reflection and motivation by samurais, nobility, and monks. She aims to achieve this same effect with her work.
The message should empower the calligraphy's owner
Nick: So you have a very, looks like a very freeing cursive style of calligraphy. So perhaps we could talk about that. How long did it take for you to find your style?
Naoko: Actually, it took some time to come here. So, when I started to do calligraphy, again, I focused a lot on design. I even mixed painting for a while, drawing, painting. I also focused on some technical aspects of using the brush.
But then at some point, I realized that maybe that was not how it was supposed to be done. When you think about calligraphy in the past, like, Edo period, or before. It is very different from what we see nowadays, I think.
Now, many calligraphers tend to go more and more abstract, focusing on lines and flow. And, to me, it seems that we are losing the meaning of calligraphy. In the past, calligraphy was simpler. The message was the most important thing, not the picture effect, not the aesthetics. We can even debate, if calligraphy was even considered as art or not.
I decided to go back to that spirit. Sure, you can appreciate calligraphy as an art form, especially if you don't read Kanji, that's the only way you can appreciate it. I think that's a beautiful thing. But if you can read Kanji, the meaning should be the most important thing. A long time ago, Samurai warlords, nobility, and monks, they all had calligraphy, where they lived, where they they worked.
Why? Because the message on the calligraphy was important. The message was supposed to make them reflect on what they did on your life, and the message could make their motivation higher. The message is all about the message. I'm trying to achieve the same thing with what I do now. The message should empower the person who owns the calligraphy. So yes, it took me some time to get here.
Kenkon’itteki: Putting Everything on the Line
Naoko discusses her calligraphy piece titled "With Heaven’s Help," delving into the profound meaning behind it.
One big gamble
Nick: Behind you, I'm assuming is that one of your works?
Naoko: Can I talk about this a bit?
Nick: Please do, yeah.
Naoko: This is a piece consisting of four scrolls called With Heaven’s Help. I wanted to put all the scrolls here, but too bad, my wall is not big enough. Anyway, this character represents heaven. This whole piece in Japanese, kenkon’itteki, basically, it means putting everything on the line and one big gamble.
In life, there is always a moment when you face big risk, this kenkon’itteki moment. But this moment doesn't just appear out of nowhere. You have to work hard and prepare to know when to take that leap. When you run all you can and are ready to take the gamble, that's when you get help from above.
Nick: Yeah, that's true.
Naoko: And each character in the piece shows its own trend, and together, they create a powerful scroll. It's all about personal growth, working with your environment, and getting ready for the big challenges in life. I love this word. And I love this piece.
Choosing the Calligrapher name Fuh-mi (meaning “not beautiful”)
Naoko chose the artist name Fuh-mi, which means ‘not beautiful,’ to stand out in a field where names are often stylish and elegant.
Going against the trends
Nick: Let's talk about you as the artist, you have an artist name, which is Fuh-mi. So what does that name mean?
Naoko: Yes, thank you for asking this question. I'm happy to answer.
Nick: I'm excited to hear the answer.
Naoko: Fuh-mi means not beautiful. So many people asked asked me why I chose this name. Especially in Taiwan, because we use mostly the same kanji, so they understand the meaning, and why I chose this strange name, they wondered.
Well, in Japanese calligraphy world, people tend to choose very stylish, elegant, beautiful, sometimes even snobbish calligrapher name. I always find it kind of stupid. (Sorry for my language) So I decided to go punk instead.
Nick: That's not uncommon for artists to go against, I guess the main conservative ideals, and express themselves with, ‘I'm gonna go against this and I have a different perspective or a different idea.’
Naoko: Yeah, that's why I chose Fuh-mi, and also I tend to suffer from very strong imposter syndrome. So choosing Fuh-mi, ‘not beautiful’, as a calligrapher name was very appealing to my imposter syndrome, somehow.
Nick: Wow. Well, that's That's an interesting idea, the imposter syndrome of a professional calligrapher. Because it's subjective, too, and it's artistic expression. Yeah, that's interesting.
So I never imagined, I didn't imagine you'd have impostor syndrome, but I guess many people do—artists do, I do, I'm an Australian talking about ikigai, so I have a lot of impostor syndrome, and I do worry about this stuff. Maybe we all have impostor syndrome.
Naoko: Yes, maybe. Life is tough.
What is Calligraphy to the Samurai?
Naoko delves into how calligraphy played a role in the lives of samurai warriors. Samurai sometimes created calligraphy themselves or exchanged works with other samurai, and the message conveyed was more important than the artistic beauty of the piece.
The message is paramount in calligraphy
Nick: Let's touch on Budo or samurai, because that is a strong theme in your work. So if we go back to samurai era, what was calligraphy for, in I guess, for samurai in their days? You touched on it earlier, this reminder of how to live your life for maybe a virtue to uphold?
Naoko: Yeah, exactly. So sometimes, they do calligraphy by their own, but sometimes samurai presents his work to other samurai, and it was not that special at the time, I think. But the message was important, but it doesn't matter—it matters, but it doesn't that matter if the work is beautiful or not.
Nick: The message, it’s the message. This is really interesting. But I think that makes sense, you take this time to have an artist write a message. Of course, the message would have a lot of thought and feeling behind it. I guess as Westerners, we see samurai as warriors, fighting and killing people.
But this other side to them, where they're drinking tea, and discussing calligraphy, and giving gifts of calligraphies. I guess it's that the softness of the warrior or the inner heart of the warrior that we don't often talk about
Naoko: There is a word called bunburyodo, so it means *bun ‘*the study’, and *bu ‘*the martial arts.’ You need always to have both ways in your side.
Nick: Good way to live by, and yodo, that is, do would be ‘the path’ and yo would be ‘two.’
Delving into Shin or Kokoro
In Naoko's calligraphy, the kanji for kokoro or shin often appears. Kokoro is hard to translate into a single English word; this idea is deeply intuitive and nuanced in Japanese culture, making kokoro a rich and complex term.
Kokoro encompasses emotions, intellect, and spirituality
Nick: So that's what I love, too, I love the learnings from studying calligraphy. And what I've noticed, in general and in your work on LinkedIn, you often mention or you often have calligraphy pieces that mentioned the word shin or kokoro.
I guess in the West, we might understand kokoro as heart, but it's more than that. I have this idea that it conveys mind, heart, and spirit—almost as one entity. So it took me a while to understand kokoro. How would you define shin or kokoro.
Naoko: The other day, during our zoom call you said the same. You said it's difficult to translate kokoro into English with just one word. That's very true. Kokoro is a difficult concept to explain, like many Japanese things which are kind of vague.
So Japanese people intuitively understand it. But it's generally difficult for us to explain it to foreigners. Basically, as you said, it can mean at the same time, heart, mind, and spirit. But even in English, for me, it's difficult to differentiate mind and spirit. So I think it's fundamentally a difficult concept to explain. Kokoro is emotions, intellect, and spiritual.
Nick: Yeah, that's really interesting, because we often have this expression, ‘think with your mind, feel with your heart.’ And we’re almost separating the two, like, the kokoro kind of conveys the idea that you cannot live or function without both working together.
And then there's the spirit, which we probably don't… We're so busy in the modern world, we don't connect to spirit that often. Some people might not even believe there is the spirit, they might only think it's, ‘Oh, it's just your mind.’ And the heart just pumps blood. And that's all.
So I guess there's far more reflection behind these concepts of Japanese words, I think, compared to modern Western thinking, and a lot of history. So that's why it's probably hard for Westerners to understand.
And typically in the West, we're kind of looking for a quick answer, like, ‘Just tell me what it is, don't worry about the details.’ Which is not really the best way to approach learning. I think words in any language, the deeper you go, obviously the better you can understand and communicate.
For the full podcast conversation go to: Creating Meaningful Messages through Calligraphy