The World of Japanese Calligraphy Shodō
Text: Mari Kučera
As part of the box design for the April limited edition 1/48 Kamikaze Tokkōtai IJN Special Attack Units, there is a calligraphy inscription of "Kamikaze Tokkōtai" (Kamikaze Special Attack Unit), created by the Japanese calligraphy teacher living in Prague, Mrs. Mari Kučera. Since unique calligraphy created specifically for a plastic model kit is not a common occurrence, even in Japan, we asked Mrs. Kučera to introduce us to the history and secrets of calligraphy creation. (Editorial note)
In Japanese calligraphy, shodō, we use Chinese characters (kanji) and two types of native Japanese syllabic scripts, kana.
Chinese characters originated in ancient China, where the reasons and outcomes of divinations were recorded by carving them onto animal shoulder blades or turtle shells. Thus, the act of writing (recording) itself was considered sacred. Each character carries meaning, and by studying the origins of individual characters, one can glimpse the worldview, philosophy, and lifestyle of ancient people.
Later, with the invention of soft brushes made from animal hair, it became possible to draw curved and varied-width lines. The calligraphy brush is unique because it is both soft and resilient. Thanks to this quality, we can sensitively capture the various rhythms and movements of our bodies and our inner selves. Living tools, such as the calligraphy brush and absorbent paper, allow us to express music, dance, and the image of our soul, evoking different emotions and impressions in viewers and affecting their spirit. In this way, "writing characters" became an art form.
Because of the brush’s flexibility, each stroke and character contains substance, depth, movement, and direction. Unlike painting, where an artist can pause, have tea, and contemplate where and what color to add, Japanese calligraphy must be executed "in one breath," requiring high energy concentration and yet complete relaxation of the body and senses. Only when we tune into the waves of energy around us – depending on our state and the waves we connect to – and let the energy flow through us without obstruction do substance, depth, movement, and direction appear in every stroke and character. These physical aspects follow natural laws, and harmony reigns in the work, just like in the universe. When everything is connected by one wave of energy and functions in unity, the work becomes alive and beautiful.
The flow of energy is a very important aspect of Japanese calligraphy. This again is enabled by the brush’s flexibility. Through an invisible yet palpable current of energy, we can experience the mental state or emotions of the creator at the moment the work was made, even if it is several years old. In Japanese culture in general, "things that cannot be seen" remain an essential part of life. If the energy flow were not part of the creative process, the written inscription would essentially be meaningless.
It is also often said that the "remaining" white space, where nothing is written, is an "essential" white space. This is called johaku. Johaku can be seen everywhere in Japanese culture, most typically in ink paintings, traditional Japanese houses and gardens, and tea ceremonies. By writing letters, we often strive to create beautiful "empty" space.
However, it is not possible to create this space with the mind alone. The inscription and the "empty" space must resonate, and to achieve this, we need to maintain perspective and perceive the work as a whole during its creation. The slightest thought flashing through the mind interrupts the energy flow, creating disharmony.
The effort to create good work largely involves removing various obstacles within ourselves. These include the desire for success, a closed view on the world, fixed ideas, etc., which are associated with bodily tension.
Often, we ignore our own feelings due to thoughts influenced by our nature or approach to life, resonating somewhere deep in our subconscious without our clear awareness. Subconsciously, we tell ourselves we don’t want to ruin the work and we want to succeed. Even before we start writing, we fear failure, and both the soul and the body tense up unpleasantly.
If the mind constantly dictates, “This stroke should be this long,” or “The next stroke should start here,” the senses fail to perform their primary function of maintaining balance in the developing work. And when the mind controls everything and something doesn't go as planned, internal criticism immediately follows – “Damn, that stroke should have been longer!” This can thoroughly destabilize us, at least until the work is finished.
It’s truly fascinating to observe how clearly all of this appears on the paper, how our inner world manifests there, and how the body reacts at such moments. Our body’s movement is closely tied to our inner state, making it essential to cultivate our inner selves for calligraphy.
A finished piece of calligraphy reflects not only the personality and personal approach of the calligrapher but also their shortcomings and weaknesses, which usually show up as flaws in the work. Improvement in Japanese calligraphy demands self-awareness and self-cultivation.
This is probably why Japanese calligraphy became one of the "Ways – Dō," just like kendō, judō, sadō, and others. By observing our own calligraphy, we can improve our approach to life.
As you can see, a calligrapher must carefully choose their tools and writing style to best express their inner self in a given work. These choices greatly influence the atmosphere of the work.
For the inscription "Kamikaze Tokkōtai," I wanted to create an atmosphere of dignity and severity, containing inner strength while avoiding harshness. Therefore, I used the kaisho style – standard script – with a hint of gyōsho – semi-cursive script – which conveys strength and movement within a certain tension. Through this, I wished to express my respect for the souls of those who fought in these aircraft.
Mari Kučera
She has been practicing Japanese calligraphy, shodō, since the age of six. Her life and calligraphy are deeply intertwined with faith and Asian philosophy, heavily influenced by nature, Taoism, and Buddhism. She has lived in the Czech Republic since 2003. Besides her own artistic work, she leads numerous courses and workshops throughout the country, gives lectures, and performs large-format demonstrations. She has written several articles for magazines and appeared on the "Dobré ráno" (Good Morning) program on Czech Television.
She belongs to the Kenshin Shodō Kai, one of the most traditional schools of Japanese calligraphy in Japan, and received the Hōjō Award at exhibitions in 2024 and 2025.