Michael Hagedorn is a bonsai artist who spent 2 1/2 years apprenticing under Shinji Suzuki of Nagano, Japan. Michael’s background ranges from painting and drawing to ceramic sculpture and installation. Following a Master’s degree in ceramics from the New York State College of Ceramics at Alfred University, he made bonsai containers for nine years in upstate New York and Arizona. Michael’s bonsai work appeared in the Kokufu show in Tokyo in 2004, 2005, and 2006 while an apprentice, and Mr. Suzuki honored him with the opportunity to wire two trees that went on to win a Kokufu Prize and a Prime Minister Award. He lives near Portland, Oregon. (Photo: Greg Brenden)
Personal comments:
Outside of bonsai I have several other interests like Argentine tango, kayaking, yoga and opera. These areas of interest are a bit like satellites to bonsai, which is the center of my life. I don’t take the satellites too seriously, other than to enjoy them. It is more their presence in my life which I take seriously. If I only did bonsai it would seem there would be little to bring to the art.
Wood has a certain magnetism for me. If I had a focus other than bonsai I’d probably be making guitars or something of that nature. I think that is what was initially attractive to my past career in ceramics: of the earth, basic, immediate.
In bonsai I tend to use technique only where necessary. If it appears necessary for the boundaries of bonsai, I use it; if it’s not, the tree has its way. This is a philosophic boundary that might make my trees look and feel a bit differently.
Currently I’m attracted to and creating bonsai that each have a very different ‘feel.’ I would hope that guests would have, when they look at one bonsai and then it’s neighbor on the bench, a totally different experience. As if between each tree they had traveled a long way. This is maybe the poetic way of thinking about it. Given the eclectic nature of my collection, they might well think they’ve been visiting the Island of Misfit Toys. That’s another way of thinking about it.
I am less interested in shows than in how the trees relate on the benches in the yard, where we most often see them and enjoy them.
Interview in Stone Lantern’s blog, Bonsaibark:
http://bonsaibark.com/2009/02/24/michael-hagedorn-interview-part-1/
Paragraphs from interviews:
‘I like the diversity of people who seem drawn to bonsai. And it is gratifying to see students get excited about taking things to another level. I’d say the only hard part is teaching in a workshop type of situation where the concept of a ‘good tree’ is difficult to teach. It is almost like trying to understand Michelangelo’s ‘David’ from photos. I was thirteen when I saw the ‘David’ in Italy and discovered that it was huge. His David was a giant. I would have never gotten that by looking at a photo, but it hits you in the gut when you’re there. Not book knowledge. Likewise, we can’t really learn the essential points of bonsai from reading, and we can’t learn what a good tree is by seeing a photo or talking about it—we have to see it in person. So I’ve been changing my style of teaching a bit. I prefer to be teaching the way I learned at my master’s place, by standing in front of a good tree. I think this is the best way to learn. We learn ten times as fast. So I am working on gathering a ‘teaching’ collection so that I can teach from my backyard.’
‘A personal goal, if I had to name one, would be to find some kind of authentic, personal voice within bonsai. Which is very difficult within the realm of this tradition, since I think bonsai is, at its best, an egoless art. It is a way of not taking ourselves so seriously, thinking primarily of others, and assumes a slight of hand that creates an untouched beauty. And so seeking a singular voice is almost a contradiction.’
‘…also I would say to students: Bonsai is best when the artist is invisible. This is like a puppet show; we should not be seen. So that whenever we get the impulse to be in front of the curtain rather than behind it, remember to keep technique minimal, and be content with playing a supporting role to a tree. And then, one of the wonderful things about bonsai is that our medium eventually takes over possession of itself once more, and it is no longer a fingerprint of an artist, but is simply a tree again. The evidence of its creation has long since disappeared. That’s magical!’
