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先日のゴールデンウィーク、1日だけ遠出できる日があって十勝を往復した。
札幌からだと往復では350-360kmくらいの距離になるだろうか。夫婦交代でハンドルを握っての行脚。ちょっと体調を崩してはいたけれど、その回復の機会として気分転換を兼ねていた。
で、目的はもう何年前かも忘れている中札内の「六花の森」周辺の美術館で見ていた「一枚の絵」。
十勝の、年に数日あるかないかの「十勝の酷暑の日」農場の木々がうだっているような表情を見せているのを克明に表現したイメージの絵。とくに一本の木がまことにイキモノらしい表情を見せていて、なぜか深く惹き付けられた。カミさんについ「この絵、買いたい」と口走っていた(笑)。
半分はホンネの気持ちだったのだけれど、旅先でのことでもあり、どうせ一時の感情の盛り上がりに過ぎないとみなしたカミさんは、その気持ちをなだめてくれていた。
わたしの方でも、そうか、一時の気分の盛り上がりかも知れない。落ち着いて、再訪してそれでも「どうしても」と思えるのなら、と自分を静止していたのです。
わたしは絵が好きだけれど、それは美術館めぐりなどで「出会い」を求めることと絡み合った興味で、ある特定の絵に「ゾッコン」というのはあんまりない。そういうのは俵屋宗達の風神雷神図など、ほぼ国宝級の作品なので、私有するという概念を抱くことはなかった。また、複製画で十分という淡々とした人間性(笑)ということもあるのだろうか。
ただ、人生のスタート時点で小学校1年のときに描いた絵が、アメリカのポートランド市と札幌市の「姉妹都市」契約の時に行われた児童画の相互交換イベントで特賞になったことがある。
自分で描いた絵だけれど、その絵にはもう一回、めぐり会いたいとは思っている。ただ、「返して欲しい」とは思ったことはない。元来、所有欲は薄いタイプなのだろうか。
で、珍しく「購入したい」と思った一枚の絵のことは心に残り続けていて、今回ようやく再訪した。
作家の名前も記憶していない。たぶんこの美術館群のなかのどれかということで、探訪してみた。
次々と作家別になった美術館を巡っていくのだけれど、どの作家の「作風」とも合致しない。そういう「この人かなぁ」と思って訪ね歩くというのは、はじめて経験する楽しみ方だったけれど、繰り返すうちにこころのなかの「一枚の絵」を探して,巡り会えないこともまたいいのではないかと思い始めていた。
で、最後の1館で「お、これは」と思える画風に巡り会った。
ひょっとすると、という期待とともにその作家のプロフォールをブックマークした。
あの絵は、もうすでにどなたかの手に渡っているかも知れないけれど、でも、そういう恋情を持ち続けるのは、こころの若さの確認であるかも知れない。しずかに探索を続けたい。
English version⬇
[A journey in search of a single painting that I would like to see again.
I was told, "If only I knew the artist's name," but I am in a "what's your name" state. It is not bad to keep thinking about it in your heart. Love is the youth of the heart. I am in love...
During the recent Golden Week holidays, I had one day when I could go away for a round trip to Tokachi and back.
From Sapporo, the round trip would be about 350-360 km. The couple took turns at the wheel. I had been feeling a little under the weather, but this was an opportunity for me to recover and also a change of pace.
The purpose of the trip was to see a painting I had seen at an art museum in the Rokka-no-mori area in Nakasatsunai, which I don't remember how many years ago.
It was an image that clearly depicted the trees on a farm in Tokachi that looked as if they were groaning on a "hot day in Tokachi," which occurs only a few days a year. One tree in particular showed a truly animate expression, and for some reason I was deeply attracted to it. I was saying to my wife, "I want to buy this painting" (laugh).
(Laughs.) Half of my words were sincere, but my wife, who was on a trip and regarded it as nothing more than a temporary emotional outburst, appeased my feelings.
I thought it might have been a temporary emotional high, too. I had to calm myself down, and if I could still feel "absolutely sure" when I revisited the place again, I would do so.
I like painting, but it is an interest that is intertwined with the pursuit of "encounters" through visits to art museums, and I am not so much "infatuated" with a particular painting. Such works as Sotatsu Tawaraya's The Wind and Thunder Gods are almost national treasures, so I have never had the concept of owning them privately. It may also be that I am a person who thinks that reproductions are good enough.
However, at the start of my life, a picture I drew in the first grade of elementary school won a special prize at a children's drawing exchange event held when Portland, U.S.A., and Sapporo signed a "sister city" agreement.
Although I drew the picture myself, I would like to see it again. However, I have never asked for it back. I guess I am not a possessive person by nature.
However, one painting that I unusually wanted to purchase remained in my mind, and I finally revisited it this time.
I don't even remember the artist's name. I thought it was probably one of the paintings in this group of museums, so I went exploring.
I went around the museums one after another by artist, but none of them matched the "style" of the artist. It was the first time for me to enjoy visiting museums thinking, "Is this the same person?" However, as I repeated the process, I began to think that it would be nice to find a "picture" in my mind and not be able to find it.
Then, at the last museum, I came across a painting with a style that made me think, "Oh, this is it.
I bookmarked the artist's profile with the hope that I might be able to find his work.
The painting may already be in someone else's hands, but to hold on to that kind of love may be a confirmation of one's youthfulness. I would like to continue my search quietly.