The Wave That Painted the World: Hokusai’s Enduring Splash on Art History
If art could carry a passport, stamped with every border it has crossed and every era it has touched, then Katsushika Hokusai’s Under the Wave off Kanagawa, known to the world simply as ‘The Great Wave’, would surely be the most seasoned traveller of all.
You’ve seen it, haven’t you? It crests not only on the serene walls of museums but also on the fabric of street-fashion t-shirts, the curve of a coffee mug, and even in the palm of your hand as a smartphone emoji. This single sheet of ukiyo-e (浮世絵), a style of Japanese woodblock prints from the Edo period, has become Japan’s most famous cultural export, its foam and spray still washing up on the creative shores of the 21st century.
But have you ever paused to wonder why? Why this particular wave, out of all the images ever created, has captivated the world so completely and continues to be a boundless source of inspiration? It cannot simply be a matter of beautiful design. There must be something else at play, something that resonates beyond language and culture, touching a universal chord within the human spirit.
Today, let’s trace the remarkable voyage of this single drop of ink Hokusai released into the world. We’ll follow its journey as it traversed oceans and decades, swelling into a cultural tidal wave that would engulf Western masters, pop artists, and contemporary creators alike.
The First Ripple: ‘Hokusai Blue’ and the Birth of Japonisme
Our story begins in the salons and studios of late 19th-century Paris. As Japan opened its borders after centuries of seclusion, its art began to arrive in Europe like messages in a bottle, carrying whispers of a completely different aesthetic. For the avant-garde artists of the time, these ukiyo-e prints were a profound revelation. And amongst them, Hokusai’s work, with its startlingly vibrant ‘Berlin blue’（ベロ藍）— Prussian blue pigment — painted a new world of colour into their imaginations.
One of the first to be swept up by this new current was Claude Monet. Though celebrated as the master of light, his work reveals a deep and lasting dialogue with Hokusai. Consider his famous series of Water Lilies or the Rouen Cathedral paintings. This method of capturing the same subject repeatedly, under the shifting conditions of light and atmosphere, shares the very same spirit as Hokusai’s Thirty-six Views of Mount Fuji. In his quest to seize the ephemeral, fleeting moment, Monet was, perhaps, having a quiet conversation with Hokusai across the ages.
The wave then crashed upon a more turbulent soul: Vincent van Gogh. In a letter to his brother Theo, he confessed his awe at Hokusai’s print, describing how the wave grips the boats “like an eagle’s claws.” When you gaze upon the swirling, ecstatic sky in Van Gogh’s masterpiece, The Starry Night, it’s easy to imagine that heaven and earth have inverted, and it is Hokusai’s tempestuous sea now raging in the cosmos. The bold, flat compositions and powerful outlines of Japanese prints gave Van Gogh a new visual language, a tool with which to hammer his own turbulent emotions onto the canvas.
Intriguingly, the influence of the wave wasn’t confined to the visual arts. The French composer Claude Debussy is said to have kept a print of The Great Wave in his study for inspiration whilst composing his symphonic poem, La Mer (The Sea). It was at his own request that Hokusai’s image adorned the cover of the score when it was published in 1905. Debussy’s music doesn’t just describe the sea; it embodies its very essence — the swell of the current, the glint of sea-spray, the immense, elemental power rising from the deep. It is, in every sense, an auditory ‘Great Wave’.
The Second and Third Waves: From Pop Art to the Present Day
Hokusai’s wave did not recede at the turn of the century. In the 20th century, its form evolved, flowing into the vast ocean of popular culture.
This is perfectly symbolised by the work of American Pop artists. Roy Lichtenstein’s Drowning Girl and Andy Warhol’s screen-printed series, The Great Wave (after Hokusai), brought the image into a new context. As if returning the wave to its origins as a piece of popular, mass-produced art from Edo-period Japan, they ‘appropriated’ it. Through the lens of Pop Art, they used Hokusai’s motif to question the meaning of originality and art in an age of mechanical reproduction. Theirs was a dry, critical gaze, entirely different from the romantic embrace of the Impressionists.
And so the wave continues its journey, eventually flowing back to the shores of modern Japan, where it remains a potent force. Traces of Hokusai’s DNA can be glimpsed in the work of world-renowned artists like Yoshitomo Nara. Professional LEGO builders have recreated its dynamic form in three dimensions. And, as the humble emoji, it has dissolved into the fabric of our daily communication. The wave, it seems, knows no bounds.
What’s fascinating is that this was never a one-way current. Hokusai’s contemporaries, master printmakers like Utagawa Hiroshige and Utagawa Kuniyoshi, were also struck by his creation, prompting them to explore their own unique expressions of the sea. The Great Wave was so revolutionary that it sparked innovation and rivalry even amongst its domestic peers.
The Quiet After-Crest: Why Does This Wave Endure?
Through Monet’s light, Van Gogh’s stars, Debussy’s harmonies, and Warhol’s prints, we have seen the unmistakable silhouette of Hokusai’s wave. What is it about this single image that grants it such universal and enduring power?
Part of the answer may lie in its compositional perfection. The dynamic, claw-like curve of the great wave is brilliantly contrasted with the quiet, conical stillness of Mount Fuji in the distance. Motion and stillness, proximity and distance, raw power and fragile beauty — these opposing forces are held in a state of perfect tension and harmony. One could argue that this reflects a core principle of Japanese aesthetics: the concept of ma (間), the profound beauty found in empty space, in the interval between things. It is this negative space that gives the composition its breathtaking depth.
But perhaps what truly grips our hearts is the profound narrative held within the frame. It’s a story of humanity, small and vulnerable, facing the immense and indomitable power of nature. Yet, if you look closely, the fishermen in their slender boats are not merely cowering in terror. They are bowing low, their bodies aligned with the sea, as if accepting their fate and becoming one with the force that threatens them. This may be a uniquely Japanese expression of spirituality — a deep-seated reverence for nature and a belief in coexistence rather than conflict.
This ambiguity — the sublime terror of the moment captured, and the quiet dignity of its acceptance — is what poses a deep question to all who see it. It sparks our imagination and allows us to find our own meaning within its swell.
The wave that Hokusai carved into a block of wood and pressed onto paper is far more than a picture of the sea. It is a vessel of inspiration, one that has navigated the currents of time and culture to break upon the shores of our modern consciousness. The single drop of ink that Hokusai released nearly two hundred years ago continues to send out its ripples, quietly, yet surely, right at our feet today.
