There are many others here who knew Steve better and much longer than me, whether as students or colleagues who shared his passion for ink painting and calligraphy, or music and ceramics.  Over the years, I’ve had the chance to meet Steve in person only a handful of times—though all were most memorable in an ichigo ichie kind of way—whether at a dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant in Nashville over 20 years ago (where I remember that Steve was somehow able to remember and sing impromptu, along with the waiter, a Vietnamese folksong), at conferences or viewing Zenga and calligraphy in the Met storeroom, or at the Rei Kawakubo / Comme des Garçons exhibition at the Met five years ago. More often Steve and I shared our thoughts on transcriptions or translations of calligraphed poems by emails or handwritten letters. I enjoyed all of Steve’s publications over the years, both popular and specialized, and regularly recommended them to students and docents as eminently readable introductions to various subjects. Writing about calligraphy in particular is always a challenge, since finding a vocabulary to describe abstracted handwriting styles is so difficult, but Steve, often using the metaphors of dance and music, or relying on witty translations was able to bring works to life. 

As a curator at the Met, one of my many pet projects has been to help build our collection of Ōbaku Zen calligraphy and painting.  And  Steve’s pioneering catalogue on the subject, that thin yellow-covered paperback catalogue of 1978, Ōbaku: Zen Painting and Calligraphy, has been a constant companion; and in 2014 he revisited the subject in an essay on “The Art of Ōbaku” in a the catalogue Eat This and Drink Some Tea issued by Paul Moss; and then a few years back I learned so much from his essay in Impressions 41 (2020):  “Notes on Zen Calligraphy: The Daitoku-ji and Ōbaku Traditions.” So I was delighted when the Met several years back was able to acquire a portrait of Yinyuan/Ingen with an dynamic inscription by Muan/Mokuan that Steve had owned for over 40 years – the dharma transmission of Zen teachings can continue:  https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/663886

And I was so touched when Steve donated to the Met twelve sheets of tour-de-force calligraphy by Gion Nankai, each demonstrating his mastery of a different style of Chinese brush-writing: https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/733689 .Our conservators, Masanobu Yamazaki and Jennifer Perry, are almost finished remounting the sheets onto a pair of six-panel gold-leaf folding screens, and I only regret that Steve wasn’t able to see them restored to their former glory. 

These and so many other precious memories remain; may Steve Addiss rest in peace.

Sending best wishes and prayers to his family and those close to him,

John  

—

John Carpenter
Mary Griggs Burke Curator of Japanese Art
The Metropolitan Museum of Art ,  T 212 570 3838

With Steve’s passing, I feel like a little chunk of myself just disappeared. I went to KU determined to go into the study of Chinese painting, but Steve’s enthusiasm and love for his subject convinced me to make the switch. That was over 40 years ago, and I’ve made an entire career off the decision prompted by Steve. He was such a generous guy, that when visiting relatives in Los Angeles, he came with me to meet the former LACMA curator, George Kuwayama, to convince him to hire me. It took a while, but he did, and like a barnacle, I’ve stuck on ever since.

A couple of wonderful memories come not from Steve’s teaching, but from his music. I used to go into the art history department at the University of Texas with my father on the odd weekend, but it was usually extremely quiet. I remember one weekend going to the art history department at KU and hearing echoing through the hallways Steve playing Scarlatti on the harpsichord at high volume. Another time a group of students went to his home and had to maintain absolute silence so he could show us the quiet ways of the qin. On his trip to SoCal, he took me to a Vietnamese restaurant to meet his music teacher, who was a huge deal in Vietnam. Next he came to talk about John Cage.

Next he gave me a beautiful piece of calligraphy and several pieces of ceramic, and wrote later for my help with naming some of his recent artworks. It’s as if his talent and his love for so many aspects of beauty were endless. I wished that his life had been. With his kindness and sensitivity piled on top of all that, there truly will never be another Steve.

I wish him nirvana.

Hollis

HOLLIS GOODALL

(pronouns: she, her, hers)

CURATOR, JAPANESE ART
WWW.LACMA.ORG

I was his first PhD student long ago and his teachings have definitely impacted my approach to the study of  Japanese art over many decades. As you noted, Steve was a natural communicator, whether it was in his music or the way he wrote about art and, especially calligraphy. He taught us grad students so many useful skills, some seemingly peripheral to the study of Japanese art but which have proved extremely useful over time. He was a fine photographer of art and I recall sessions he led for us on how to do art photography. I credit him in large part for my attention to detail in photography to this day. He also taught us how to present papers at conferences, and sat through and critiqued many dry-runs of talks to make sure we learned how to get the timing right on slide transitions and stay within our given time limits. In addition, he helped me become a better writer by closely reading my dissertation and some early career article drafts to make sure they were readable (ie. jargon-free) so as to be understood by educated non-specialists, which is something I continue to strive for. And finally, he taught essential skills for advanced study through a connoisseurship-based approach of Japanese painting and calligraphy. Although some consider this approach out of fashion today, these skills remain essential, because any study of art must start with analysis of authentic works. At the end of his career, I was privileged to write about Obaku and sencha for Paul Moss’ catalogue to which Steve contributed a wonderful essay and also an extensive bibliography on writings about baku arts. I was happy to be able to help him then, by gently editing his writing, something I never expected to do but for which he seemed most grateful.

Pat Graham

Patricia J. Graham, PhD, Certified Appraiser, Appraisers Association of America

It is with deep sadness, mixed with appreciation for such a fruitful life, that we share the news that prolific author and a great scholar of East Asian art, Stephen Addiss, passed away on May 11^th, 2022.

Read their lovely article here.

I lost my Dad, Stephen Addiss on May 11th, 2022. He has inspired, educated, and shared his life with so many wonderful people over the years. The love is pouring in. Many kind folks have asked if there is anything they can do to help me through this loss.

I would love to post your memories on his website, www.stephenaddiss.com. You can email them to me at yosa@yosa.com. If I have posted your memorial and you would like it changed or removed, just email and I will do so right away.

Thank you for your kind words and support, it means so much. We are hoping to have a memorial for Dad in the Fall.