In the HIKING AS LIBERAL ARTS series, hosted by Yamatomichi HLC (Hike Life Community) director Hideki Toyoshima, we consider hiking as a liberal art, a field of study that liberates individuals from preconceived notions and norms, empowering them to act based on personal values. This series delves into physical aspects of hiking ー seeing, hearing, eating ー for clues to exploring the value of and potential that extends beyond hiking.

This is Part 2 with our first guest of the series, Roger McDonald, an independent curator, founding member of the not-for-profit arts organization Arts Initiative Tokyo and author of DEEP LOOKING: A Guide to Reviving Imagination through Profound Observation (AIT Press). The discussion, at Roger’s Fenberger House, in Saku city (Nagano prefecture), explores ways of pulling apart rigid realities with a more deliberate approach to observing art. Spanning topics from landscape painters and Zen to plant-based food, the conversation ultimately addresses what is needed to navigate and survive in today’s “age of crisis”. Roger’s reflections offer insight not only for hiking but for reimagining our way of life.

【Read: HIKING AS LIBERAL ARTS, with Roger McDonald ー “Seeing” Part 1】

ーーIn your book, DEEP LOOKING, you highlight six artists as examples for practicing “deep looking”, and your explanations are fascinating. Your discussion of Agnes Martin (*1) frequently references transcendentalist Henry D. Thoreau (*2). Ultralight hiking seems to share aspects of Thoreau’s ideas.

Thoreau is the embodiment of counterculture. The transcendentalists, including Thoreau, believed that deep within each individual lies a presence that transcends humanity itself. They sought a way of life that involved delving deeply into the self while living simply in the vast American wilderness. In that sense, it’s easy to see the parallels with ultralight hiking.

In the book, I also introduce Chinese Song dynasty landscape paintings. Many of the painters from that era could be seen as ultralight hikers. They would spend long stretches wandering through mountains, observing the landscape, the seasonal transitions and the shifting weather, even before beginning to paint. Interestingly, the landscapes depicted in those paintings weren’t realistic reproductions but imaginative creations ー mountains that didn’t actually exist. They combined countless observations to create montages for their artwork.

I believe these painters were also experts in traditional Chinese medicine. Landscape painting was closely tied to Taoist teachings, in which knowledge of herbal medicine played a significant role. Equipped with this wisdom, they could survive in the mountains with minimal supplies, walking for days and translating their experiences into paintings. If we were to trace the origins of ultralight hiking in the East, I think the painters of the Song dynasty present a fascinating antecedent.

ーーIt’s likely that monks were the trailblazers in Japan’s mountains, too.

Ninjas were also deeply linked to mountain trekking. I live in Mochizuki, a former town that’s now part of Saku city, in Nagano prefecture. It’s considered one of the birthplaces of ninjutsu (martial arts practiced by ninja). During Japan’s Sengoku period (also called the Warring States period, which spanned much of the 15th and 16th centuries), a ninja from Mochizuki is believed to have used his knowledge of medicinal herbs to save a famous daimyo, who demonstrated his gratitude by giving land in Iga to the ninja. Some families from Mochizuki then relocated to Iga, according to historical accounts.

Ninja, with their knowledge of herbal medicine, resembled shamans. To collect medicinal herbs, they needed a profound understanding of mountain trails. This strong link between ninjutsu and mountain trekking fascinates me.

*1 Agnes Martin (1912–2004) Canadian-born painter renowned for her geometric abstract works. In 1967, she moved to Taos, New Mexico, where she continued to create art until her death in 2004.

*2 Henry D. Thoreau (1817–1862) American writer, poet, and philosopher. Thoreau built a small cabin in the woods by Walden Pond, where he lived a self-sufficient life for about two years. His book, Walden: Life in the Woods, is a reflection on this experience and has profoundly influenced poets and writers.

ーーI have one more question about Agnes Martin. She lived in isolation, distancing herself from human society in the middle of the desert, and continued creating art until her death. In DEEP LOOKING, you noted that her way of life became a unique form of expression. Could living according to the principles of “deep looking” naturally lead to a lifestyle similar to hers?

It’s easy to imagine that committing fully to “deep looking” could result in living like Martin. Her connection to Zen was also significant. When she was in New York, D.T. Suzuki (*3) was introducing Zen to the West, and many American artists were deeply affected and surprised by this philosophy. For these artists, Zen was likely perceived as a key to freedom, which in turn fueled an exciting counterculture.

Interestingly, in postwar Japan, few artists were as inspired by Zen to the same extent. Zen was perhaps too close, too familiar as a religion in Japan. However, when Zen made it to the U.S., the cultural distance allowed for its essence to be selectively distilled, which may have been why it resonated so deeply with American artists.

In the context of “American Zen,” I think Ikkyū (*4) stands out as a representative figure. He was an eccentric monk, unconventional by Japanese Zen standards: He had several wives, was often drunk, and wandered across the country. While Ikkyū was an outsider in Japanese Zen, American artists likely found great potential in his way of life.

Ikkyū embodied a kind of anarchistic Zen. Zen is borderline anarchism. Anarchism is often misunderstood, but its true essence lies in maintaining a balance between individual freedom and discipline ー it’s not simply about doing whatever one pleases. Martin, who was profoundly influenced by Zen, may have been particularly drawn to Ikkyū’s anarchistic Zen, and discovered a unique source of creativity through it, which is fascinating to consider.

Martin’s ultimate choice to settle in the desert, in New Mexico, likely reflected a mix of factors: the vastness of the sky, the quality of the light, her interpretation of Zen and Thoreau’s influence. This interplay seems to have been the foundation for her raw, primal works.

*3 D.T. Suzuki (1870–1966) Buddhist philosopher renowned for introducing Zen Buddhism and broader Eastern philosophies to the West.

*4 Ikkyū (1394–1481) Rinzai Zen monk during Japan’s Muromachi period (1330s to 1570s) known for his unconventional and free-spirited approach to life; famous for his clever anecdotes and defiant actions.

ーーI heard that you overcame a heart condition not only through Western medicine but also by adopting a plant-based whole food diet. Could you talk about that?

I began to notice that I was short of breath, and feeling unusually winded. A hospital examination revealed that one of my heart valves was beginning to clog. The doctor explained that it was a common issue and not an emergency, and that it could be treated with medication and surgery. However, I decided to explore alternative treatments. That’s when I learned about people who had completely healed clogged arteries through diet alone. The approach, known as a plant-based whole food diet, involves cutting out all processed foods and focusing on plants, legumes, oats and similar foods.

I committed to this lifestyle for three years. When I went for a follow-up examination, the clog in my heart valve had disappeared. The doctor couldn’t believe it and asked, “Are you sure you haven’t been taking any medication?” From the perspective of modern medical science, my exam results seemed implausible. It was a profound experience ー realizing that just by eating natural, unprocessed foods my body could be so drastically transformed.

ーーYou’ve mentioned that this experience gave you a sense of being part of nature. Can you elaborate on what you meant by that?

It was the realization that my body was essentially rebuilt by eating only what came from the soil. It wasn’t a single transformative moment but rather something I felt gradually over those three years, eating three plant-based meals every day. I started to feel as if I was entirely made from the soil, air and rain. That connection became something tangible.

I also thought about how Buddhist monks and Christian priests traditionally abstain from eating meat. It didn’t feel coincidental. For thousands of years, people seeking closeness to the divine have chosen these kinds of diets. I found myself wondering why that might be. Beyond the physical changes, I also felt more sharply aware. My mind felt clearer.

ーーIt sounds like what you experienced might be called “deep eating”. It underscores how every physical sensation can be reinterpreted through the lens of “deep looking”.

ーーIn your book, you don’t just discuss “deep looking”. You conclude it with reflections on how we should live as we face the future, which made a strong impression on me.

That final chapter aligns with the same shamanistic cycle we talked about earlier. It’s not enough to practice “deep looking” on your own. What matters is sharing the insights and realizations you’ve gained with those around you and with your community.

ーーSo it’s about the practical utility of “deep looking”. Speaking of utility, in the final chapter, you reference environmental scholar Jem Bendell’s paper on “Deep Adaptation”, which addresses climate change and the breakdown of social communities. The concept of adaptation is a central keyword in this context. I found the four pillars of “deep adaptation” especially compelling:

Would it be correct to interpret the message of the book’s final chapter as a proposal ー to use thinking cultivated through “deep looking” as a guide for surviving the climate crisis-induced collapse of order globally that’s expected in the near future?

Exactly. Around 2017, Dr. Bendell published his “Deep Adaptation” paper, but it was so controversial that no academic journal was willing to publish it. He’s not an optimist. He states that, in all likelihood, civilization as we know it will end soon. In “Deep Adaptation”, he explores how we should face that end. It’s about creating a good ending ー one that’s humane and peaceful. In a way, it’s a radical idea and one we’d rather not think about. But Bendell argues that the collapse of Earth’s ecosystem is already happening and that it’s likely too late to stop it. Unfortunately, his predictions seem increasingly accurate.

That’s why the four pillars of “deep adaptation” can serve as a kind of guidepost. They offer a way to navigate this reality and face it with dignity and mindfulness.

In this era, when we consider what we can learn from Deep Looking, one key aspect is that it equips us with the skill to internalize countless truths.

I believe this is becoming increasingly important today. Through Deep Looking, we can develop the capacity to accept negative aspects to some extent while finding the good within them. This approach fosters resilience, patience and a willingness to commit to uncomfortable situations — skills that I feel are crucial.

ーーIt ties back to the earlier discussion about shamans, doesn’t it ー the idea of returning those experiences to the community?

Exactly. While it’s essential to have moments of solitary experience, it’s equally important to return to the community afterward. The critical question is: How do we share the wisdom we’ve gained and use it to positively influence the situations we currently face?

Underlying this is my critique of individualism ー the system that has supported capitalism since the 19th century.

My starting point is the recognition that humans are not solitary creatures. We are, fundamentally, social animals. When it comes to overcoming or adapting to the crises we face, I don’t think we can do it alone. If we continue down the path of individualism, it seems likely to lead to a tragic future. That’s why I believe we need to begin strengthening our connections within communities now.

Roger is a founding member of the Arts Initiative Tokyo (AIT), which operates the TOTAL ARTS STUDIES project. This initiative approaches art as a tool for navigating the future, fostering a space for diverse societal insights and accessible learning. If this interview sparked your interest in Roger or DEEP LOOKING, I highly recommend that you explore the TOTAL ARTS STUDIES project.