Yang created this work when he was 90 years old, four large characters, a full Chinese foot (1/3 of a meter) in diameter. The ink is rich and black, the brushwork spirited and vigorous. Combining the literary and visual arts, the work is comparable to a magnificent freehand landscape painting; "The calligraphy is the calligrapher": Without abundant strength, vigor, and vitality, how could a work such as this have been carried out? Yang's cursive script differs from traditional cursive's thorough attention to brushstrokes, forms, and layout. To be sure, to progress from "having a method to follow" to "wielding the brush as one pleases," one must first build a foundation. If sigh in admiration at the untrammeled fluidity of his calligraphy, holding that it embodies the essence of cursive script, I would not be far from the mark! Liu (流) comes from yuan (源) ("fluency" comes from a "source"); jin (今) comes from gu (古) (the "modern" comes from the "ancient"). Having a broad view of history enables one to distinguish the evolution of calligraphic forms and discern the differences and similarities in the styles of master calligraphers; thus, one's knowledge and experience become more authentic, more profound. In this horizontal composition, each character is set an invisible square, implying movement within stillness. I have seen Yang's rendition of Li Bai's "Leaving the Imperial City." The first four characters (朝辭白帝 "early morning, leaving White Imperial City") flow downward from one to the next; horizontal and vertical order is irregular, there are no clear distinctions in the spacing between characters or lines, and character forms are nearly indistinguishable. The work is like a Western abstract painting, completely dynamic, the composition unique unto itself. Inscription: "Quietly observe, and all things become one. For Hua dao. Wuchen (1928), summer, Yang Tsao-hsien, age 90. A couplet."
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