He was talking to me when I glanced at the wall. All of a sudden I wanted to sit down and weep… Time seemed to stop, or I wished that it would.
Now more than a month later in my living room I think of other times when a work of art seemed to confront me, to unexpectedly seize my attention, to evoke my utter astonishment… Van Gogh in Paris, Masaccio in Florence, Albrecht Dürer in Berlin, the “Water Lilies” triptych by Monet temporarily brought together in Kansas City, “Chorus from the Rock” by Michael Barfield in St. Charles, and museums in Edinburgh, London, Prague, and the United States… but among numerous such memories, none will stand out more indelibly than suddenly encountering “Psalm 139” by Makoto Fujimura in The Estuary Gallery.
It leapt from the wall across the space between us. I felt I was swimming in outer space — not through a dark emptiness but through luminous clouds of light. It was more like the “heavens” of C. S. Lewis’ Ransom trilogy than what the Apollo astronauts experienced on their voyages to the Moon. I sensed I was surrounded by endless colored refractions of light. Earth and heavens met together in the deep blues and greens of azurite and malachite.
Psalm 139 painting, with light
Photo by Mako Fujimura
I did not wish to snap a photograph. I knew the camera on my top-of-the-line iPhone would never capture the sensations of refracted light which enthralled me. Mako posted a pair of photos on Facebook, however, that begin to hint at the effect:
Psalm 139 painting, Facebook post
showing the difference with the lights off and on.
As I commented there:
“This painting is overwhelmingly beautiful. I saw it in person recently and it seemed to come out into the room, invading my personal space with an undeniably captivating presence, as if azurite and malachite had taken on active form, alive and embued with a mind of their own, transfigured, riding thousands of beams of light, to transfix me. The experience brought tears to my eyes and interrupted all speech. I am still processing it while meditating upon Ps 139. Unforgettable. I felt searched and known indeed by a love greater than the stars.”
I am processing it still.
On reflection, I am reluctant even to call Mako’s art “paintings.” They are multi-layered crystal refractions. I told Mako he is a geologist, unearthing the deep beauty of minerals. He is an engineer of light. In many places in his works, Mako describes the traditional methods of Nihonga art:
“I will never forget the first time I walked into a Nihonga store nestled in the Shita-machi (the old-town) section of Tokyo…. Pure mineral pigments were lined up on the shelf in apothecary jars, glittering. Hundreds of hand made brushes hung in another large wooden cabinet. Exuberant and refined, the pigments held their own aesthetic world view flowing out of thousands of years of Japanese paintings. This, I thought, was the culture of Japan, this captured the aesthetic of Japan… Coarser mineral pigments, being literally sand, create ripples of color when allowed to cascade down. I stand the painting against the wall, and using broader strokes with abundant water, let the pigments cover the painting. When displayed in a gallery, the pigments will reflect the light and shimmer like stars. Finer pigments and earth colors, including sumi ink made from pine tar, can be used to create water stains…. Depending on the weather, and the season, how much glue is used varies. If the glue is too strong, the pigments will be dull; if it is too weak, they will not stick to the surface. The slow evolution of an image, with each layer adding a passage of memory-traces, leaves behind a residue of the process of painting itself.” — Makoto Fujimura, River Grace (2007), pp. 2-3.
On p. 4 of the same book, Mako recalls William Blake’s poetic exegesis of Psalm 139:
“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.”
Mako writes:
“Crushed minerals are literally ‘Grains of sand,’ symbolizing a gift from both heaven and earth. The process of painting, then, mirrors my deeper struggle to return the gifts back to the Creator…. Nihonga materials create a cacophony of sensuality and extravagance…. All four gospels record a woman… who pours the jar of nard worth a year’s wages upon Jesus… I believe the Kata [tradition] of Nihonga is my jar of nard to be broken and poured upon Jesus’ feet.” — Makoto Fujimura, River Grace (2007), pp. 4-5, 16.
When Mako told his father, a remarkable scientist, that he wanted to be an artist, his father was not disappointed but replied, “that’s what I wanted to be, too.” Below is Mako holding his father’s easel, which now resides in the Osamu Fujimura Collection of the History of Science Collections of the University of Oklahoma.
Mako holding his father’s easel
Mako’s mother preserved his childhood sketch of a bird
“LORD, you have searched me and known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away.
You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue, O LORD, you know it completely.
You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it.
Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there.
If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast.
If I say, ‘Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,’
even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you.
For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well.
My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed.
How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them!
I try to count them-—they are more than the sand; I come to the end-—I am still with you.
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my thoughts.
See if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”
Psalm 139 NRSV
“Psalm 139,” from Malcolm Guite, David’s Crown
Browse Mako’s website: makotofujimura.com. Follow Makoto Fujimura Art at Facebook and The Estuary Gallery at Instagram.
I can’t recommend just one of Mako’s books. All of the following have made a difference for me. Pick any one and linger with it, reading slowly.
- Makoto Fujimura, Images of Grace (Dillon Gallery, 1997), Amazon.
- Makoto Fujimura, River Grace (2007), Amazon.
- Makoto Fujimura, The Four Holy Gospels (Crossway, 2011) Amazon. Keep this on a dedicated table for slow, meditative reading.
- Makoto Fujimura, Bruce Herman, and Christopher Theofanidis, QU4RTETS (2012). If you like T.S. Eliot or Jeremy Begbie, you’ll want to read this (youTube; Mako at Duke).
- Makoto Fujimura, Golden Sea (Dillon Gallery, 2013), Amazon. A coffee-table collection of full-page color reproductions, with essays by Kei Tatejima, Nicholas Wolterstorff, Julie Hamilton, and others.
- Makoto Fujimura, Silence and Beauty: Hidden Faith Born of Suffering (InterVarsity Press, 2016), Amazon. To appreciate hope, suffering, Mako, and why American Christians need to understand Japan, don’t miss this. If you can read the Japanese version, do — it is not a simple translation, but has extra material.
- Makoto Fujimura, Culture Care: Reconnecting with Beauty for Our Common Life (InterVarsity Press, 2017) Amazon. Don’t want to be captured by the culture wars? This books lays out an alternative path toward living in a way that is generative in loving others. If you like Tim Keller, you’ll want to read this.
- Makoto Fujimura, Art + Faith: A Theology of Making (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2021) Amazon. Why the New Creation matters for art… or for our work in any vocation. If you like N.T. Wright, you’ll want to read this. It applies as much to ecology and science as to art. Apply it to your own work.
- Makoto Fujimura, Refractions: A Journey of Faith, Art, and Culture (NavPress, 2024), 15th Anniversary Edition, Amazon. Short essays on a variety of topics, many with an autobiographical dimension. Read this at bedtime as an introduction to Mako’s art and vision.
- Makoto Fujimura, Art Is: A Journey into the Light (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2025, forthcoming). Can’t wait for this to arrive this fall!
- Haejin Fujimura and Makoto Fujimura, Beauty and Justice: Creating a Life of Abundance and Courage (Brazos Press, 2026), forthcoming. Haejin’s work with Embers International is visionary. I first heard her speak at Painters-Prophets-Poets last fall, and her talk moved me deeply and memorably. Watch this video and then I predict you’ll want to pre-order this book.
Study the artwork reproduced in Mako’s books. But make every effort to see one of his pieces in person. Only then may one imagine the reality that lies beyond what the flat image on the page can capture. I intend to go back to The Estuary Gallery soon with time to just sit for a while in front of “Psalm 139.”
“Makoto Fujimura, 2025 Commencement Address at Gordon College” presents Mako and Psalm 139 in a nutshell. “You are called to create the future beyond the storm. The future is built by love,…”
Thank you, Mako and Haejin.
