My HPM newsletter arrived today and I sit here stunned and so saddened to hear of Richard’s death. I’m not sure when I first met Richard, but long ago. Since then I got to hang out with him in Hawaii, at PBI, Ogawamachi, and Tokyo. He is with me, in his prints on my walls, his JOEKOZO book in my collection of miniature books, the odd bits of Japanese paper objects he gave me. About a year after Haruko died, we travelled to Haguro together, climbed Gassan when fall had turned the Japanese maples fiery red. I last saw him in 2012, when I visited him and Ryoko, saw her amazing work and his amazing work. His prints are wonderful but the last work I saw, a starched and dyed paper assemblage, reflected his great open response to the world. He gave me a book on Kobo Daishi that I noticed on his bookshelf. I read it on the train going north to Hiraizumi to visit the Konjikido, an indigo and gold temple so small it fits inside a glass box within a larger building – and takes your breath away. I hadn’t known Richard was ill. I couldn’t have imagined not seeing him again. Richard taught in the gentlest way. His art reflected his love and his depths. I feel so honoured to have known and spent time with him.
— Dorothy Field, July 2020
Memorial and Remembrances