Yūgen (幽玄) — The story behind the triptych
⏱️ 8 minute read
There are works you create because you have an idea. And there are works you create because you need to express something. Yūgen (幽玄) is the latter.
Yūgen is a Japanese concept with no direct translation. It describes the deep, mysterious feeling that arises when you experience the beauty of the universe — not as a clear insight, but as a whisper. A presence you feel but cannot name. Precisely that feeling is what I aimed to capture in this triptych.
The creative process: layer by layer
The three panels are each 40 × 20.2 cm, painted on wooden panel. Together they form a total size of 40 × 60.6 cm. But the dimensions tell only part of the story.
What you don't see is the time. Yūgen is built up in many layers of acrylic paint. Carmine red, Prussian blue, burnt sienna, green, and zinc white — applied layer by layer, allowed to dry, reworked again. Not all colors are directly visible in the final result. But they are there.
This is a working method that reminds me of urushi — the traditional Japanese lacquer art where dozens of layers of lacquer are applied to achieve depth and shine. Each layer is invisible, yet indispensable. That's how Yūgen works too. The carmine red underlayer supports the burgundy surface. The Prussian blue gives the navy blue its coolness. These are colors you don't see, but feel.
"Carmine red, Prussian blue, burnt sienna, green, and zinc white — not all colors are visible, but they live within the work."
The inspiration: ukiyo-e and flat color
The visual language of Yūgen is inspired by the Japanese print art of ukiyo-e. Not the figurative depictions of waves or mountain landscapes, but the underlying principles: flat color fields, sharp edges, and the tranquility that speaks through what is not there.
In ukiyo-e, emptiness is not a defect. It is a choice. A burgundy border enclosing a color field in navy blue, mauve, and muted pink tones — that's not a composition that screams. It's a composition that waits.
An early master of this principle was Hasegawa Tōhaku (1539–1610), whose ink paintings of pine forests in mist are pure color field avant la lettre. No detail, no story — only presence. That is what I strive for.
Notan (濃淡) — the Japanese principle of light-dark balance as a compositional element — is the silent engine behind Yūgen. The tension between the dark burgundy border and the lighter color field is no coincidence. It is the composition.
Kinship with the West: Rothko, Reinhardt, Newman
Yūgen does not stand alone in art history. There are Western artists who speak the same language, from a different tradition.
Mark Rothko painted color fields that made people cry. Not because they were sad, but because the work touched something they couldn't name. That is yūgen in Western abstract expressionism.
Ad Reinhardt created almost-black paintings with hidden structure — works you only see if you look long enough. The depth does not immediately reveal itself. Yūgen also asks for that patience.
Barnett Newman introduced the vertical "zip" — a line that cuts through a color field and thereby creates tension. In Yūgen, the burgundy border is that enclosing line. Not a separation, but a definition.
And then there is Mono-ha (物派), the Japanese art movement of the 1960s that allowed material and space to speak without saying too much. No explanation, no story — just the material itself, in space. Yūgen has that restraint.
Three Japanese concepts that define this work
Shibui (渋い) — understated beauty
Shibui describes beauty that is not intrusive. That does not scream, but attracts. Yūgen is shibui. The work asks nothing of you — but if you stand before it, it gives a lot.
Ma (間) — the meaning of the intervening space
Ma is the Japanese concept of negative space — the emptiness that carries meaning. The space between the three panels is not empty. It is part of the composition. Without that intervening space, the triptych is incomplete.
Kokū (虚空) — emptiness as a space for meaning
Kokū is the emptiness that is not empty. The color field in Yūgen breathes. It is not a filled surface — it is a space where something can happen. What that is, you decide.
"Shibui, ma, kokū — three concepts, one work. Yūgen speaks the language of Japanese aesthetics, painted in acrylic paint on wooden panel in Tilburg."
The feeling of the work
Someone recently asked me what Yūgen reminds me of. I had to think for a moment.
A room just before sunrise. The silence after a conversation that changed something. The feeling you get when you close a book and momentarily don't know where you are.
That last one might be the most precise. There are books that take you to a place you can't point to on a map, but which you recognize when you are there. Yūgen tries to be that for the wall it hangs on.
Wabi-sabi — the Japanese beauty of the imperfect and transient — is also present in this work. The paint structure is not smooth. The layers are visible if you look closely. That is not a flaw. That is proof that the work was made by hands.
Frequently asked questions
Can I buy the panels separately?
No, Yūgen is sold exclusively as a triptych. The three works are composed as a single entity and are inextricably linked.
How do I hang the triptych?
The panels are hung next to each other with equal spacing. A distance of 3 to 5 cm between the panels works best. I will provide hanging advice with your purchase.
Is the work signed?
Yes, each panel is signed by me. The triptych comes with a certificate of authenticity.
Is it shipped worldwide?
Yes, I ship worldwide. The panels are carefully packed and sent insured.
Yūgen is available as an original triptych.
About KOJO Art
KOJO Art is the brand under which I, Jordy Koumans, paint and sell. My work moves between color field, abstraction, and Japanese aesthetics. Each work is unique and hand-painted in my studio in Tilburg.
