[fanfic] Artistic Differences

[kakkobean.livejournal.com]

Title: Artistic Differences
Author/Artist: kakkobean
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Japan, Italy, a little Japan/Italy
Rating: PG
Warnings: ART HISTORY RAAAAAH shittons of art history notes at the end
Summary: Interactions between the two regarding artistic differences


Japan held fast onto the tea cup, and did his best not to meet the eyes of his guest. He held back a sigh as he turned the cup counter-clockwise—one, two, three—and then set the cup down, softly without a sound, on the floor. Only then did he look up from his work.

He was met with a very despondently confused expression.

“Japan, I don’t get it—why do you do all that stuff to just serve me a cup of tea?” Italy asked, far too honest in his lack of understanding. Japan should have been used to it by now, but it was still disheartening to see his comrade so…unable to appreciate the finer points of his culture.

“It’s not about the tea, Italy”, Japan tried again, and sat back on his ankles. “The tea ceremony is a tradition by which people can show polite deference to one another and be equals; the humbling of the master of the house to his guest, the guest partaking of the offered gift, all is a part of the exercise in humility and respect. It is also why we meet here, in this small tea house, to feel small and inconsequential; we leave our egos and our swords at the door and share an experience together. Do you understand a little more now?”

Japan watched Italy’s face for signs of comprehension. Though none were visible, he could tell that the other country was trying; his eyebrows were knit together, and his lower lip was curled up over his teeth in immense concentration. Then, without a warning, Italy’s hands came down on the tea cup, held it by both sides, and took a swig.

“…Is that why the tea tastes so gross?”

Japan felt that maybe only one of them was feeling humbled by this experience.

~~
It was a cold day when Japan decided to pay a visit to Italy’s home. He didn’t understand the impulse; as far as he was concerned, he and Italy were never quite on easily understood terms. At least with Germany, he knew what it was that they could talk about; politics, military, machinery, plans…always plans. There was a horrifying amount of unpredictability when it came to his other ally.

So it should have come as no surprise when he knocked on the door, only to find that it swung open to reveal a mess of color.

“I-Italy…?” Japan pressed, and gingerly stepped through the threshold. There was a definite funk in the air; the combined smell of the water channels outside and old paints mingled, and tickled Japan’s nose in an uncomfortable way. He bit back the impulse to take off his shoes—that wasn’t custom at Italy’s house—and continued through the hallway until he heard the unmistakable sound of cheerful whistling.

“Italy?”, Japan asked again as he turned the corner—and stood still.

There was his f—ally, sitting cross-legged on the floor, examining a painting that completely took Japan’s breath away.

Japan had been trying his best to become familiar with Italy’s idea of art for some time now, and there was always one theme that stuck out to him; how intrinsically Italy’s art was tied to his religion. Not only that, but the strange idea of “high” art, “classical” art, all sorts of strange hierarchical nonsense he didn’t quite understand. Usually, if someone in a painting wasn’t either Jesus or some saint, then it was one of his grandfathers’ gods. Japan had started cataloging ways of recognizing who was who—the saints usually had that halo thing—what was it called again? Something with the roman letter C?—and the Virgin Mary had the three stars (something Italy had borrowed from Greece; Japan couldn’t help but wonder if there was some “history” between the two that was better left not gossiped about), and of course, the four animal symbols of…something. There was always, always some sort of religious context, be it biblical figures or religious figureheads.

So who on earth was that lady in the painting?

“Hmm? Oh—Japan!” Italy cheered at last, and turned to face Japan. “This is the Venus of Urbino. She’s really something, isn’t she?” Italy said with a smile, and then gaped. “Oh! I mean, others might think she’s kind of brash since she’s not really shy at all and kind of alluding to infidelity, but I can’t help but like her—you know? She’s kind of like a child of my heart.”

Japan squinted, and looked back and forth between the painting and Italy. If he had to place it, he’d guess it was a Renaissance painting due to the structure and attempt at realism, but…it was different. “I…I don’t follow.”

“Ah—well, that makes sense—most people are more familiar with big brother’s Renaissance, after all!” Italy shrugged, and looked back at the painting. “But, see, she was made here. In my city, in my Renaissance. Romano may have his Judith, but…” at that, Italy’s smile softened into something small and sweet that plucked at some muddled string in Japan’s chest. “I have her.”

Japan was glad of the strange lump in his throat; he couldn’t think of anything to say, anyways.

~~

“Japan, these flowers are so pretty!”

Japan looked aside at his friend, and couldn’t help the smile. “Yes; I am rather fond of this screen painting as well”. It was the truth; though perhaps it had taken him a while to get used to color on his door screens, Japan had managed to become fond of the bright color contrasts. It was a little bit of a luxury to have gold layered on his screens, but the overall effect was lovely. The bright purple and greens against the neutral gold made for not only beautiful color contrast, but also emphasized the contrast between the details of the line work and the sheer simplicity of the color. It was a piece that indicated something pure, untouched, removed from—

“Hey, Japan—we use gold the same way, don’t we?”

Japan blinked, and gave Italy a perplexed expression.

“Wha—what do you mean by that?”

“The gold background—it’s removing the image from time and space, isn’t it? That is, removing it from one moment in time and space”, Italy clarified, and grinned. “I mean, I don’t do much of that as much as I used to, but it’s the same, right? These flowers aren’t just here, but they’ll be here, have been, and always will be…you know?”

Japan stared, shocked. Italy understood.

“I—yes, Italy, that’s it”, Japan replied, flabbergasted. “I had no idea that you knew about using gold to mean that—I’ve never seen any of your paintings that used gold in such a fashion—“

“Oh, that’s because I don’t have any of them at my house. They’re kind of…” Italy sighed, and his shoulders sagged. “They’re being ‘borrowed’.”

Japan understood.

“…Perhaps, after we have defeated France, I would like to see them.”

When Italy’s face lit up, Japan knew that he’d said the right thing.

~~
Japan couldn’t quite put his finger on it—rather, it was like trying to hold water in his hands; he could understand the sensation briefly, but soon felt the gasp of epiphany leave him shivering and exposed. But that splash of feeling left him trying his best to create a flower arrangement that suited Italy best, without understanding why he was trying so hard. He’d decided that trying to go by flower language was out; Western ideas regarding the meanings of flowers was completely different than what he was used to. This left him with a bunch of flowers spread across his tatami floor, all different colors and sizes, and no concrete idea of how to say what it was that he didn’t even know he was trying to say.

“This—this won’t do”, he murmured to himself in frustration, and sighed as he picked up a yellow chrysanthemum that he’d picked that morning. It was from the non-imperial chrysanthemum family, with thin petals that shot up and out in every direction. It very much reminded him of Italy, but he just couldn’t seem to pick any other flowers to complement it. The hibiscus was too vibrant in comparison, the iris was too frail, and he wasn’t about to stick a branch of sakura in the mix.

Perhaps simpler would be best.

“Japaaaaan~!” Italy’s voice called out, and caused Japan to jump in shock. “I’m here! Oh—shoes! I need to—waaah!!!”

An alarming crashing sound followed, and Japan panicked. What if Italy had hurt himself? There wasn’t anything he could—no, but there was the umbrella stand—and Japan bolted.

“I-Italy!! Are you alright?!” Japan called out, and winced when he saw Italy sprawled uncomfortably on the floor with only one shoe off and a panoply of assorted bags (no doubt filled with food).

“F-fine! I—Oh no, is it alright?!” Italy shrieked, and began comically fumbling around to get up and look through the bags. As the frantic checking continued, Japan wavered, tottering between offering to help and just watching, until one bag later Italy was sighing with relief.

“Thank goodness! I was worried it might have gotten crushed—“

“Italy, what—“

Italy reached into the bag and pulled out a potted plant. It was—striking, to say the least. It was purple and white, with multiple blossoms that reached towards the sky. Japan could honestly say he’d never seen a flower look like that before.

“Here,” Italy said as he held the plant forward, “this is for you!”

Japan felt his face flush.

“A…what…what is it?” Japan asked, and tentatively reached a hand to touch one of the buds.
“It’s an orchid!” Italy chirped, and continued despite Japan’s shocked expression. “See, this kind of orchid grows around my house, and you know, I saw it and thought, ‘This flower reminds me of Japan!’—so I decided I’d give it to you.”

“Reminds you—how?”

“Hmmm...I dunno. It just does, somehow”, Italy smiled, and offered it once more. “Why?”

“Because…b-because”, Japan stuttered, feeling a horrible loss of words. This was ridiculous, embarrassing—and all at once, he was completely submerged in the unnamed feeling and understood.

“Actually, I— I have a flower for you, too”, Japan garbled out, and held out the chrysanthemum for Italy to see. “Because it…reminded me of you.”

Japan watched as Italy’s expression changed, from confused, to surprised, and then to very, very happy. So happy, Japan wondered if it was contagious.

The familiar sensation of arms wrapped around him confirmed it—definitely contagious.

“I like you a lot, Japan!” Italy chirped, and continued to nuzzle into the crook of Japan’s neck.

“I—I—I…” Japan bit his lip, and faltered. What did he say to that? They were so different from each other; maybe Italy’s words meant something else, and maybe he was misunderstanding—maybe…
Maybe they were more alike than Japan knew.

As he tentatively brought his arms up and around the other country, Japan let his head droop on Italy’s shoulder.

“I like you, too.”

A/N:
It is why we meet here, in this small tea house--most people who were wealthy enough in Japan to get one built had a separate tea house built some ways off from the main house, and yes, they were really small. The entrance to a tea house was typically a small cut-out square in the side that a person had to crawl through, and thus both necessitating leaving the two swords of the samurai outside and symbolizing humility and "leaving our egos" outside.
The saints had some halo thing--an aureole (yeah, it has a name) is a halo/nimbus that is usually found circling the head of a saint or deity. Sorry Japan, not a C--though it does also go by "gloriole" or "mandorla". To make matters worse, I believe that Jesus's aureole has a specific name unto itself.
Virgin Mary had the three stars--the three stars are three points of light(or three stars) that are usually associated with the Virgin Mary and are arranged in a trianglular pattern, usually somewhere on her person. They're a representation of her virginity (somehow).
something Italy had borrowed from Greece; Japan couldn’t help but wonder if there was some “history” between the two that was better left not gossiped about--after the fall of the Roman Empire and sometime before the Holy Roman Empire was established, the lands of the Roman Empire were split into the East and the West, East being the Byzantine Empire (Greece, Macedonia) and the West being the Roman Empire in name only. The two empires were kind of spiky with each other, but for some reason in Byzantine art, the virgin Mary was depicted as a Roman citizen and in Western empire art, she was depicted as a Byzantine Princess. Go figure.
the four animal symbols of…something The four beasts of the Apocalypse--the bull, the lion, the eagle, and man--somehow ended up getting conflated with the authors of the four gospels (Mark, Matthew, Luke, John) in Western art (all the cool countries were doing it--Spain, France, England, Italy, etc.)
The Venus of Urbino--presto.
most people are more familiar with big brother’s Renaissance, after all!--Though the Renaissance is attributed as a multi-nation phenomenon that started in Italy, the big players like Caravaggio, Michaelangelo, Rafael, and the various architects--they were all in ROME (Leonardo DaVinci was active in Florence, which is technically northern Italy, but his stuff is considered to be more of the Southern Italian Renaissance).
In my city, in my Renaissance--Venice had its own Renaissance that is considered to be completely different than what was going on everywhere else because not only was the painting technique different, but they were painting on different materials (Venice+traditional canvas susceptible to water damage=BAD). Also, what we consider Venice today is very different from what was Venice back then--Venice owned several protectorates in Italy and was kind of an empire of its own.
These flowers are so pretty!--look up Sakai Hoitsu's "Irises"
The gold background--A particular motif that was characteristic in illustrated bible manuscripts was to have a golden background whenever Jesus performed a miracle or said something particularly profound to signify the sacred permanence of the moment (dating back to the 14th century). Japan did something similar to that.
non-imperial chrysanthemum family--the imperial chrysanthemum, or "yellow" chrysanthemum, is pretty simple, while the "white" chrysanthemum looks like this (though people breed the shit out of them and they can look really crazy)
It's an orchid!--Behold the Italian orchid