Learning from the Masters with Peter Cavaciuti

We join Peter Cavaciuti in his art studio on a sunny morning, set in an idyllic street of Cambridge. The back of his house opens out into a lengthy oblong garden, framed by towering pines and a crooked stone path. This slice of nature is frequently the inspiration for much of Peter’s work, and many of his plants make an appearance in ink and pigment. We talk with Peter as he adds some colour wash to a partially-inked work in progress.

Peter is a professional artist and lecturer, who lives and works in Cambridge. He studied Chinese painting under Fei Cheng Wu, a student of Xu Beihong. His continued research and study in Japanese culture and aesthetics, especially Chado (The Way of Tea) and Zen, have contributed greatly to this field. Peter has been teaching for over 30 years and has exhibited at the Royal Academy, Summer Exhibition, and Royal Watercolour Society. He regularly has art shows in both Europe and Asia.

Peter’s path into East Asian art has been a long one, originating in his childhood. “When I was really young, five or six, I really liked Asian art. I don’t know why. By twelve, I was buying little things and going to the British Museum and speaking to experts. They were very, very kind and showed me objects from their collection. It was very kind of them,” he explains. Peter ended up studying at SOAS, and was taught by the iconic Chinese painter Fei Cheng Wu. After an intense six week trial period, he was then taught Chinese brush painting by Professor Fei for the following eight years – the first two of which he was not allowed to sit down, and had to stand to grind ink. Fei Cheng Wu was also one of the favourite students of Xu Beihong, and was a brilliant teacher to Peter in both Chinese brush painting and calligraphy, as well as art history. Peter explains how his careful cultivation by Professor Fei during the 1970s was a way into the world of Chinese art, as well as clarifying his own voice in Chinese painting.

“Also, you had to read – you know, the traditional idea in Chinese culture that to be a good painter, you have to read ten thousand books and travel ten thousand miles. He also used to say that you had to have particular landscapes in your stomach; it’s no good thinking about them in your head.”

Following several trips to China, and later Japan, Peter was inspired by the people he met and the landscapes he saw. He laughs over the fact that, “when [I] met people in Taiwan as well, because I was in my sixties there, they still thought I was a bit young! So, still not quite developed, and meeting these old professors in their eighties and nineties – that was fun.” Peter also notes the parallels between the gentle hills of Hangzhou and surrounding areas, and the hills of Italy where his family are from. These landscapes suffuse his works and are picked out in varying methods of ink application.

Peter’s work is also enriched by the learning of the Japanese tea ceremony, Zen Buddhism, and classical Chinese philosophy. He explains that, “tea brings in another element. You can’t really see so much, but it’s like a different flavour.” Chinese philosophy is also another important element underlying Chinese painting, in Peter’s opinion. Having studied Taoism, Chuang Tzu and Lao Tzu, as well as Confucius and Mencius, Peter acknowledges how this learning has seeped into his work. An understanding of these works can help one “understand why that little figure is going through the mountains, or the title. It’s going back to Daoist thought, you look at searching for the Dao. And also, finding your place in life; trying to bring it back still to how I live every day. So it’s not an abstract sort of thing.” When asked how Chinese philosophy is different to Western philosophy, from the perspective of someone with a European background, Peter says the principle essence is: we are not separate from nature. “In a Western one, we’re trying to either reproduce what we see, [but] an Asian one or a Chinese one, is where one reproduces what we feel. So the actual response to nature: you’re wandering around, you might be cold or hot or something, and you see a beautiful mountain or a wonderful tree. You’re not separate from it. In a way, you’re having a dialogue with it. It’s difficult: you try to reproduce that feeling. So it’s a poetic reconstruction. That is what I am trying to do.”

Peter shows us around his studio, pointing out a few of his favourite paintings. Though not always easy to classify into distinct styles, Peter’s paintings draw together Chinese and Japanese influences along with a distinctly Western flavour. The painting ‘Summer Flowers Peony’ is a good example of this, delicately and intangibly balancing the influences of Chinese brush painting with a Western style. When asked to pin down his style, Peter describes it as: “traditional Chinese brush painting, it’s that. But it’s got maybe a little bit of something else. In a way, it’s like cooking. Really, you are cooking with different things. But it has to taste good! That’s the thing, it’s no good being too adventurous and it doesn’t work. It’s tricky.”

Peter practices and teaches Chado, The Way of Tea, and he also teaches Chinese brush painting to others. He explains how lucky he was with his teacher, Professor Fei, and that he feels the desire to pass on what he was taught, and also what Xu Beihong taught him. So in some ways, that knowledge is a kind of inheritance.

Many of Peter’s classes take place in Eddington and are frequented by Chinese students. When asked what they think of learning Chinese art from an Italian-English person, Peter mentions the renowned artist Lang Shining, or Castiglione; the Italian artist who painted in a style fusing European and Chinese elements. Apparently, many of his students are pragmatic in their views – they see that Peter can paint and they think, “well, that’s alright. His Chinese is no good, but he can paint alright.” When asked about the concept of cultural appropriation, Peter explains that when he was learning, “it was perfectly normal for me to study Chinese art, and also the openness in sharing that culture and that another way of looking at life, really. And also, looking back at Xu Beihong and what he tried to do: he tried to bridge the gap between Western and Chinese painting, and my teacher had done that when he studied at The Slade.” So this kind of bridging of cultures is not only present in the blended styles of his painting, but also the theory and philosophy underlying it. This art practice is a legacy which is being passed down, one generation at a time.