The first edition of “1: The Third Entity” was held as the first exhibition curated by the art space Asakusa in collaboration with Kawakami Laboratory, Kurashiki University of Science and the Arts. With a mission to broaden our thinking through innovative exhibitions, Asakusa weaves the concepts behind artworks in surprising ways. The exhibit offers a wide array of ideas that blend place and time, brought together in the unique space of a renovated 40-square meter historical Edo wooden structure. The works by the three creators, Taka Atsugi, Mikhail Karikis and Héctor Zamora, shed light on a vast range of contemporary issues including labor, community, and the sharing of ideas and sources of energy.

Taka Atsugi and the Message Behind Documentary Film

When entering Asakusa’s quaint wooden structure, the first video piece one notices is Taka Atsugi’s documentary, We’re Working So Hard (1945). Interestingly, this work has been presented for the first time in an exhibition context. As the title suggests, we immediately witness images of women tirelessly working their bodies in unison, appearing as one big machine to the clothing factory. While Atsugi was known as a politically leftist filmmaker, the Imperial Office commissioned this film, where censorship has encoded a positive portrayal of women working in deplorable conditions. The problems that Atsugi perhaps witnessed in these scenes had to remain hidden, yet new meaning can now be voiced as it interacts with the two other video pieces. As the earliest work introduced here, it could be viewed as a precedent for the video medium’s ability to capture the realities of post-industrialist society. We must question then, how the medium and its representation of these issues have evolved up until today.

Left: We’re Working So Hard (1945) by Taka Atsugi. Installation view of “The Third Entity” at Asakusa, 2015. Courtesy the artist, Kinokuniya Company Ltd, Federation of Japanese Films Industry Ltd., and Asakusa, Tokyo. Photo by Ippei Shinzawa

Right: Inconstância Material (“Material Inconstancy,” 2012-13) by Héctor Zamora. Installation view of “The Third Entity” at Asakusa, 2015. Courtesy the artist and Asakusa, Tokyo. Photo by Ippei Shinzawa

Héctor Zamora’s Playful Take on Consumption

Turning next to Héctor Zamora’s piece, Inconstância Material (“Material Inconstancy,” 2012-13), we are struck by strange scenes of construction workers tossing each other bricks in a chain-like order. These bricks are simply passed along, at times smashed to the ground in this careless act. Yet the seemingly ridiculous performance was put on within the public setting of a university, as part of the larger 13th Istanbul Biennale event of 2013. In this common setting, the image brings up the meaninglessness of circulated goods at the hands of laborers. Even art itself, moving from one space to the next, is another commodity of the capitalist world running on endless consumption. This everyday setting directly involves all of us, making us reconsider the real value of objects including art, culture, and ideas, and as to whether there is any true claim on them. With Atsugi’s work next to Zamora’s, as a documentary, the first piece contains the real images of social issues that continue to remain at the core of contemporary artworks. Zamora then expands the past realities of modern labor into a playful performance bridging international borders and inviting thoughts on issues not regularly addressed.

Mikhail Karikis’ Video Art Shares Memories and Lets Children Tell the Future

Moving then upstairs to the darkened loft, the audience encounters the video work by Mikhail Karikis’ Children of Unquiet (2014), streamed on the magnificent wall-sized screen. Within the enclosed theater-like space, we are able to sit for a while and ponder the imagery of the first geothermal power station ever built (1911), located in The Devil’s Valley in Tuscany. While this was a valuable source of green energy, due to rapid technological growth, the power station has long been in disuse, leaving behind the homes and memories of nearly 5,000 workers. This serves as the uncanny play place for colorfully dressed, abounding children that bring the empty scenes to life. The work opens with intensified sounds and visuals of abandonment and nature in the area, juxtaposed between children narrating Negri & Hardt’s Commonwealth (2011), a text that combines bio-politics with the notion of human love. The child readers’ voices and echoes progress steadily through quickening sounds and movements reaching a climax in orchestrated rhythm. It is at this momentous point when the children gather and stand in harmonized singing that grows louder, absorbing both the sounds of nature and the constant buzzing of machines. Considering this as part of the exhibit as a whole, we move from the realities of labor in documentary filming, to thought-provoking plays on consumption, and finally to a human-centered approach that encapsulates our memory and what the future holds for generations today.

Entrance path to ASAKUSA. Courtesy Asakua, Tokyo. Photo by Ippei Shinzawa

Entrance of ASAKUSA. Courtesy Asakua, Tokyo. Photo by Nobutada Omote

Logo of ASAKUSA.

Where Do We Find Community Today?

With these three works ranging in location, time, and style, it allows us access to a wider outlook on the post-industrialist world. The problems of labor are recalled in Atsugi’s documentary, where this history becomes the catalyst for contemporary artists such as Zamora and Karikis. They broaden the question to today’s high-tech society where the physicality of “communities” is dwindling. We must then question what constitutes a community today. What form could this possibly take and how are we to solve social issues without tangible groups? For its opening exhibition, Asakusa boldly puts forth these thought provoking questions within its compact, yet far-reaching space.With Asakusa’s inspiration drawn from Graham Harman’s “third table,” the “third entity” alludes to an unseen “community,” bringing to question its existence in this day and age.

Text by Emily McDowell

Takuma NAKAHIRA is one of the fathers of modern Japanese photography. Born in 1938 he came to represent the heyday of early photographic experimentation, yet discussion of his work beyond Japan is often under appreciated — his critique and artistic urgency contrary to the established photographic practice in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s.

His life is perhaps of greater significance because of his unwavering commitment to arguing against photography as art or emotional expression. Photography at that time split itself into two brackets: the photograph as ‘documentation’, and the photograph as ‘performance’. His work somehow straddled both, remaining unique and distinguishable in a way like no other.

Circulation (1971), his series of temporary exhibitions that lasted a week and ran the length of the 7th Paris Biennale, was as much a performance as it was a record: temporary, immediate, unreflective, spontaneous and carefree. A record of Parisian life as much as a performance and ritual in itself, each temporary installation was different and from the last with images that succumbed to the world around them.

He was a fierce critic. His writing knew no bounds and along with fellow critic and Provoke member Koji Taka, he penned inquisitive, challenging text that pointed at reasons ‘why’ the act of taking pictures meant something more than a prescribed technical process. His writing in For a Language to Come (1970) and Why an Illustrated Botanical Dictionary?: Takuma Nakahira’s Collected Writings on the Image (1973) suggested ‘a generation of anxiety’. ‘What is photography?’ was to become the overriding question that hung over him. Unlike others, to took a while for him to figure this out.

Over time he resented the photography’s preoccupation with contemporary art and destroyed all his negatives in a fit of rage. In 1977, he collapsed due to acute alcohol poisoning and lost a great deal of his memory in the process. Initial aphasia (an inability to speak) along with memory loss suggested he be thrust into a world unknown to him but the opposite was true. Once discharged from hospital he wrote, “First and foremost, I continue to insist that I am a photographer. It is entirely impossible for me to abandon that. I have always believed that I was born into life to be a photographer.” His commitment and urgency seemingly knew no bounds.

Untitled, 2002. From the series, Degree Zero – Yokohama Courtesy of Osiris

Untitled, 2002. From the series, Degree Zero – Yokohama Courtesy of Osiris

Convalescence during the ‘80s and 90’s followed. Yet despite this he continued working. Two books A New Gaze (1983) and Adieu à X (1989) emerged as evidence that he remained in some way active, capturing aspects of local neighbourhood while coming to term with photography as a necessary feature and function of his life. Indeed it was Adieu à X (1989) that earned him the Society of Photography Award in 1990, alongside Araki and Seiichi Furuya. The following period saw him transition from monochrome to colour and his first major exhibition at Yokohama Museum of Art, Takuma Nakahira: Degree Zero – Yokohama (2013) reflected on all his work to date. It was a return that could not have been more complete, with him remarking at the time,“I have returned to being a naive photographer.”

During his final few years he moved to a nursing home in Yokohama and on September 1st at 02:08am he passed away aged 77, following a short bout of Pneumonia. His life and health had been dominated by a struggle to give meaning to the question of photography, best represented by the very statement that started it all, as true now as it was when he wrote it. Photography, as he said in an edition of Provoke, “needs to stop expressing feelings. When it is completely a record, it can be something.”

Text by Stuart Munro

Oct 05. 2015

Special thanks to Osiris for image and reference material.

Etsuko Fukaya creates a world of animals and plants condensed in a small piece of work. Surprisingly, some pieces include more than 80 animals within a small frame. To accomplish this highly dense expression, she chose etching as a method and uses thin needles to sensitively scratch lines and point dots on a copperplate. Every single hair or complicated patterns of skin are all drawn by her hand without a magnifier. Although it sounds like an enormous amount of work, she actually enjoys this process. We interviewed her at her printing studio. She talked how this intricate expression was born.

Fill in the frame with animals and plants like puzzle pieces

-How do you create your work?

I do a lot of drawings in my sketchbook and decide the entire image. My first drawings are not done precisely so it is different from a typical draft drawing. I don’t think about any concepts while I am drawing.

After roughly drawing the whole composition, I start to fill in the details.

-So you decide the composition first in your drawings.

Right. And then, I allocate an animal matches to a shape in the drawing. I draw on more than a hundred papers to decide the final image of a work.

-Oh, that’s a lot. How do you get your ideas? Is it from your daily life?

No, not like that. I usually do drawings without any thoughts. Sometimes, I feel specifically that I want to draw a lion, corresponded to what I was thinking at that moment. But that is rare.

Imaginative animals were born by combining different patterns

-Do you see pictorial books?

Yes, I do. I see a lot. I have many of them. Since I put too many tags on pages (for reference), they have no meaning now. (laughs)

Sometimes, I’m surprised to see the real size of fish that I had seen in a pictorial book. Of course, the sized is written although it’s hard to imagine the actual size. Seeing it moving also gives me different impressions as well.

- Some of the animals you draw are not real ones. How do these imaginative animals come out?

Sometimes, I allocate an animal which has similar shape within the drawing, and then add different patterns.

-How do you decide the patterns?

It comes up when I am drawing. Some animals are prioritized than others and decided first. When I get stacked, I use polka dots! Or think about them later.

-Now, I’ve noticed that the patterns of the animals next each other are different!

Right, otherwise boundaries of animals will get blur.

This zebra supposed to be a horse with a harness in the beginning and another animal was planned to be drawn with stripes. However, when I changed my mind to draw the horse as a zebra, I changed the other animal that supposed to be in stripes.

- When did you find your interest in patterns?

When I was a college student, my teacher told me that patterns in my work is interesting. That was my first chance to think about it deeply. I hadn’t thought about it that much before.

It is natural to adapt animal patterns in animals. It becomes unnatural if I adapt artificial objects’.

-How about the posing?

Sometimes I draw exactly as it was drawn in the pictorial book. For imaginative animals, I try to draw it as consistent as an animal. To Make it more like a real one.

Natural objects hold a sense of closeness

- You only choose animals or plants for the?motifs.

I wasn’t good at drawing artificial objects. There was an assignment to draw a scrambled paper in cram school since it is cheap and creates dark and light. Aluminum foils were also chosen as an assignment to draw. I remember that I felt like, “Drawing paper again?!”or “I don’t wanna draw?aluminum foils any more.” I didn’t like it… Eggs are better, apples are much better. Natural objects have uniqueness and personality. I can feel closer to those objects. I couldn’t feel close to a piece of paper…

When the object is the only one existence on the earth, I have?strong enthusiasm for?drawing it. Not cups. Nature is the best! I want to draw as it is. Rum blossoms are excellent motif.

-How about humans?

I don’t draw human so much, but after seeing Makoto Aida’s exhibition (at mori museum, 2012), it made me feel that I have to draw. It could be unnatural avoid drawing it. However, drawing humans has too many elements to decide. Whether it should be a man or woman, what to wear, what kind of nose, face…. It bothers me… Should I draw it realistically or more like a cartoon? Should it be facing front or side? It should be a beauty… Something like that.

To draw an animal, I just have to match it up to its shape. But human doesn’t work like that. Viewer reads human’s face unconsciously. It’s inevitable. There are too much elements to decide. Also including even one human being will show?a big presence in my work.

- Right, there aren’t much to read from animals’ faces or posing.

We don’t care how old the animal is, whether it is feeling hungry or not. I can’t work on drawing a human without overcoming this problem.

Grown up in a rural area surrounded by nature.

- What was your childhood like?

I loved drawing but didn’t do sketching. I drew girls or manga-like drawings. I thought that I want to draw better technically then I decide to enter an art college. That was the beginning.

- When did you decide to become an artist?

I wanted to be an artist since I was little. Although I knew that it is difficult in some ways and thought to become something else. However, when I encountered etching, I thought that I can do it for my entire life. So I decided to pursue to my first dream.

- You first majored oil painting but changed to etching.

Yes, we couldn’t major etching in the beginning of our college. When I use a paint brush, it runs too smoothly and won’t allow me to draw narrow lines as I expected. Etching lets me express as I want to. That’s the main reason of why I chose etching.

-How about the technique of drawing motifs precisely?

It’s after I learned sketching. I love plants. It was my father’s influence. He loved gardening. My grandmother also had a grain field. I live in a rural area surrounded by nature. There was an ocean near by, mountains were close. I went to a sandy beach to look for shells just like a usual kid. Played with tetrapods, picked up acorns near by my house and drew it on a paper. My grandmother ran a stationary shop and there were many pencils and drawing materials.

Patterns we can imagine already exist in nature

- Have you done scuba diving? When I dove I felt like being a guest of fish world. I am the stranger. Your work reminded me of that sense.

I am glad to hear that! I am thinking of it when I create a work. No, I haven’t done diving yet but would like to whenever I have any chances. I haven’t been to southern islands and those are unknown world for me.

-I am always surprised to find unique animal’s patters in a zoo.

Most of the pattern that we can imagine already exists in the world. That’s an exciting part of nature. Knowing that makes me feel relieved. Nature is more greater than my imagination. I feel relieved to know the greatness of animals. I can draw without anxiety by knowing that.

-Actual animals have unique colors. How do you transfer it into black and white expression?

I imaging how this coloration could be expressed in black and white. However, sometimes I feel I want to use colors, hahaha.

-Since you don’t use colors, viewers can concentrate on the shapes and patterns. Are there any animals which you don’t draw?

I don’t draw insects. I can even stand seeing them in a pictorial book. Those are awful… Since my home had a garden, there were many bugs on leaves. I’m okay with them but don’t like them. Especially in a pictorial book, insects are drawn in a bigger scale. It’s ugly… Not cute at all. Reptiles are okay. I love their skins.

-Wow, this animal is all drawn with dots!

Following my interest, I tried drawing with dots. However, I found that drawing with dots ends up with fewer failures. Lines are difficult print as I imagined.

-It is amazing that you draw every single furs!

That’s the fun part.

Interviewed on May 23, 2013 and April 24 2015 by Rasa Tsuda

Mock-up image of “Simple Forms: Contemplating Beauty” installation. Courtesy of Mori Art Museum.

“the city without culture is, quite frankly, redundant”

During the recent press conference to mark the reopening, Mori Art Museum Director Fumio Nanjo alongside his team of curators and design team talked through the challenges and improvements made to both museum and programs, which Nanjo sees as contributing “to the development of contemporary art though artwork production support, exhibitions, collection of Asian contemporary art, and cooperative relationships with galleries, art fairs and professionals in the the world of art.”

The motto “Art + Life” emphatically describes how the museum foresees its role as a important lynchpin to the cultural development in the city. The Observation Deck on the 52nd floor, the gallery opening until 10pm, Roppongi Art Night and supervising public art around Tokyo no doubt pay dividends to the idea of merging art, life and style with the hope of injecting Tokyo with a renewed sense of purpose and prosperity. To paraphrase Mori himself, “the city without culture is, quite frankly, redundant”.

Fumio Nanjo (Director) and?Reiko Tsubaki?(Associate Curator)?speak during the press conference and introduction of “Simple Forms”

The new Sky Gallery

Having attracting over 13 million visitors, the museum was in need of some special care and attention. Exhibition designer Naotake Maeda went on to explain how this renovation has seen LED lighting improve the colour temperature and a new floor installed, now closer to the colour of porcelain white. Internal partitions have been rebuilt from scratch and the strengthened ceiling now supports a moveable wall system while anchoring larger work and equipment when necessary.

A screening room, project rooms, research spaces, the Sky Gallery connected with the Observation deck on the 52nd floor and a renewed cafe/restaurant further extend the relationship between the public and art exhibits.

The Sky Gallery will host a series of shorter exhibitions. “Star Wars Visions” (April 29?June 28) is curated by George Lucas, and features artwork and film memorabilia. “Foster + Partners” (January 1?February 14, 2016) will showcase the career of British architect Sir Norman Foster whose London based practise has been responsible for an array of landmarks, from London’s Gerkin to Berlin’s Reichstag building.

Foster + Partners, Reichstag. New German Parliament. 1992-1999. Berlin. Photo: Rudi Geisel

Simple Forms,?Dinh Q. Lê and?Murakami Takashi’s “The 500 Arhats”

However, one of the main features of the reopening is suite of exhibitions that will welcome in a new phase. The first show, “Simple Forms: Contemplating Beauty” (April 25?July 5), is a collaboration between the Palais de Tokyo, Mori Museum, Centre Pompidou-Metz and Foundation D’Enterprise Hermès. Science and Mathematics are starting points that explore form and nature through 130 archaeological finds and artworks by the likes of Olafur Eliasson, Anthony McCall, Nishikawa Katsuhito and Okazaki Kazuo.

“Dinh Q. Lê: Memory for Tomorrow” (July 25?October 25) is the first solo exhibition in Japan by the Vietnamese artist that documents a country still overshadowed by the Vietnam War. The war’s lingering presence in his work highlights the narrative difference between official and unofficial stories that recall the war through woven photography and installation pieces like Helicopters. Their significant and meaning underline his reading of post war recovery, and echo similar struggles of neighbouring countries throughout Asia.

“Murakami Takashi: The 500 Arhats” (October 31?March 6, 2016) follows on with a massive project that marks his first solo exhibition in Japan in 14 years. A 3 metre high, 100 meter long painting is Murakami’s response to the 2011 Great East Japan Earthquake and Tsunami and shows a new artistic interest in belief systems that transcend turmoil while addressing the role of art amidst crisis.

Anthony McCall, Line Describing a Cone 1973. Installation view: Musée de Rochechouart, 2007. Photo: Freddy Le Saux *referential image

Dinh Q. Lê, The Farmer and the Helicopters 2006. 3-channel color video with sound, handcrafted full-size helicopter. Collaborating Artists: Hai Quoc Tran, Le Van Danh, Phu-Nam Thuc Ha, Tuan Andrew Nguyen. Commissioned by Queensland Gallery of Modern Art, Australia. Installation view: “Reflection:The Through Art” DOJIMA RIVER BIENNALE 2009, Osaka. Photo: Fukunaga Kazuo.

Takashi Murakmi, The 500 Arhats 2012. Acrylic on canvas mounted on board. 302 x 10,000 cm. Private collection. Installation view: “Murakami – Ego,” Al Riwaq Exhibition Hall, Doha, 2012. Photo: GION. ©2012 Takashi Murakami/Kaikai Kiki Co., Ltd. All Rights Reserved.

Focusing on contemporary art throughout Asia

At the heart of the museum’s redevelopment are three specific strands of artistic focus that chief curator Mami Kataoka explained pursued the wish to educate and explore the wider social spaces that emerge from the main exhibitions themselves. ‘MAM Collection’ and ‘MAM Research’ will focus on Contemporary Asian Art whereas ‘MAM Screen’ will revive a once temporary feature, now a permanent stand alone video-screening program.

Mami Kataoka (Chief Curator) introducing the new MAM Research, Collection and Screen projects.

Mori Art Museum began with no real collection of its own yet since May 2015 it now has a collection of 400 works and this will increase. ‘MAM Collection’ will function as a gallery in its own right. “Two Asian Maps ? Ozawa Tsuyoshi + Shitamachi Motoyuki” (MAM Collection 001, April 25?July 5) will showcase two young Japanese artists whose work has been shaped in Asia since the late 1980’s. “Existence and Space ? Suh Do Ho + Po Po” (MAM Collection 002, July 25?October 12) sees Do Ho from Korea and Po Po from Myanmar explore conflict and identity from the perspective of their own homeland.

MAM Collection ? Ozawa Tsuyoshi,?Jizoing: Haneda Airport [Tokyo].?1988.?Lambda print.?18.2 x 15.3 cm.?Collection: Mori Art Museum, Tokyo

‘MAM Screen’ will function as a social space and screening room, focusing on time-based media with screenings of film work by Bill Viola (MAM Screen 001, April 25?July 5) and Gordon Matta-Clark (MAM Screen 002, July 25?October 12)

‘MAM Research’ is a brand new element, working closely with institutions and academic bodies that follow the social and historical context of Asian art through curation, archives, research institutions, and scholars at home and abroad.

“Great Crescent, Art and Agitation in the 1960s ? Japan, South Korea, Taiwan” (MAM Research 001, April 25?July 5) is a reworked version of an exhibition held in 2013 at the alternative Hong Kong space, Para-Site. “Who Was Roberto Chabet? ? Along with the Development of Contemporary Art in the Philippines” (MAM Research 002, July 25?October 12) explores the largely unknown Chabert, a leading figure of Filipino art and founder of the Cultural Centre of the Philippines and artist run space ‘Shop6’ who died in 2013.

MAM Screen ??Bill Viola, Ancient of Days, 1979-1981.Videotape, color, stereo sound. 12 min. 21sec. Courtesy: Electronic Arts Intermix (EAI) Photo: Kira Perov

MAM Research ? Robert Chabet, at the University of the Philippines College of Fine Arts, 1983. Photo: Soler Santos

The shifting sand of contemporary art and culture

With this focus on detail and the reasons for how and why the shifting sand of contemporary art and culture exists in the way they do, the museum clearly understands that its commitment goes beyond simply playing host to big events. Programs that encourage the public to look further further support the idea that much of what will be seen here is in fact already embedded in the fabric of daily life wherever that may be. Initiatives such as MAM Collection, Screen and Research are there to draw out these aspects and ideas and make them more than apparent.

With large scale art museums due to open in Singapore and Hong Kong between now and 2018, the museum understandably needs to position itself in response to these upcoming institutions and retaining the enthusiasm it promises by supporting lesser known work by artists from other countries. In the shadow of expectation with the Olympics just 5 years away, Mori Art Museum can expect a whole new set of visitors that expect the unexpected. As from April 25th this new phase will see the museum step up to that challenges that lay ahead.

Mori Art Museum reopens to the public on Saturday April 25th, 2015.

Text by Stuart Munro

The exhibition “Constellations : Practise for Unseen Connections/ Discoveries” feature a diverse range of artwork of seven Japanese artists. Each artist focuses on the broad term constellation, which is defined as a group of associated or similar people or things. Often these “constellations” are invisible or unknown; such as previously in Futagawa (where Gallery is located) there were channels, which crossed the area. This history is made visible to the viewer through the way the artist visual reference it through their work. Through this exhibition we are able to make and discover connections between perhaps two subjects that seem at first unrelated. We become acutely aware of our “place”; where we are currently situated, how we are more interconnected than we think, and we leave trying to draw connections between one self and our surroundings.

“The “boat” travels through “boundaries” of the museum and once of those canals that existed.

The site-specific work, “Crossing boundaries, the boat circulates, the Museum”, by Takayoshi Kitagawa perhaps most directly references the MOT Space in relation to the history of the surrounding area of Futagawa.

At first when entering his installation it can seem disorientating, as there are moments one feels as though they have walked into a “behind the scenes” or “work in progress space”. You can see the backboards of walls and gallery signs, which seem awkwardly placed. Parts of the walls are cut out and the viewer finds monitors of different sizes are wedged into these spaces. These monitors show various videos made in a “stop motion animated way” of a large cardboard boat shaped box that travels through different spaces of the MOT building. The artist described his process of taking, “roughly five thousand sequence shots, moving through the interior and exterior spaces of the museum and tucked these into space and are pieced together as moving images like nuances layered on top of each other in a piece of sculpture”.

“I do not intend to illustrate sceneries of the past but wish to shed light on the dormant memories of the water that I feel are still nestled in this place”

Another artist whose work referenced river of Fukagawa are the two installations of Nobuhiro Shimura. He thoroughly researched the history of Fukagawa and found that, “it is evident, not only from visual materials such as painting and photographs but also from literary works that depict scenes of Fukagawa, that in the days past, people’s lives were closely related to the river water”. While both Kitagawa’s and Shimura’s work reference the river their works are very different. When entering Shiumra’s installations the viewer is transported to a different and much calmer atmosphere and space. One of the spaces is created from projections of lights through long lines of ribbon to create a shimmering light mimicking that of perhaps a forest at night or being at the bottom of the sea where algae flows. The other installation has several “oke” which is a Japanese wash-bucket are laid on the floor and images of water and fire are projected onto them.

The “oke” are used, as a symbol of controlling water, which is a reference to the Kiba river town that previously often had fires and floods. Nobuhiro effectively fills the whole space through playing with light and moving images, which in effect rather than the audience viewing the work from a distance, the viewer is immersed and becomes part of the environment. “In this work, I do not intend to illustrate sceneries of the past but wish to shed light on the dormant memories of the water that I feel are still nestled in this place. ”

“I can feel the memories of people and things of the ancient past mixing together with the signs of nature that are present in the here and now”

Yusuke Asai’s bright and bold site-specific work manifests itself across the walls and ceiling of the room. He creates a constellation between using the soil of countries across the world such as South Korea, India, and the United States and of course this time the soil of Kiba Park, Kiyosumi Garden and Tomioka Hachima (which are all in the area of MOT). With this soil he creates beautifully detailed and rich murals of imaginary spirit-like creatures and as he creates these paintings he can, “feel the memories of people and things of the ancient past mixing together with the signs of nature that are present in the here and now”.

He does not mix glue with the soils when painting the walls because he wants to keep it “alive”. What is particularly intriguing is that the work is not yet complete. The viewer gets the unique opportunity to see the work at different points of progress as the exhibition goes on. At some points during the exhibition the audience is able to witness the artist himself mixing these soils together and painting directly onto the wall along side his other assistants. Seeing the work being made makes the viewer aware of the sheer enormity and endurance of a task it takes to make the work. One also notices the attention to detail therefore making one appreciate the work even more deeply. For Asai the completion of the piece is not important for his work but the physical act of the mixing of these different countries.

“This project enables audiences to see that in daily life as well, we are creating and living amid many invisible connections like these.”

In contrast to the other artworks of the show Hisaya Ito work physically exists outside the gallery space and are present at the site where each small sculpture was created. Ito carried out a workshop entitled “Your Store as a Small Sculpture” for storeowners in the Fukagawa shiryokan Avenue Shopping Street. He asked each participant to create a small wooden sculpture that imbues the stores ethos. The completed sculpture harnesses the owner’s feelings towards the store, which can usually not be seen as a tangible form. He chose to call the participants collectively “Mise-ha” movement (“School of Stores”) and each of these participants/artists of the movement work was exhibited through a photographs in the gallery. Ito slowly developed relationships between each store and he was able to see the lives of the people and their sincere attitude toward their stores. It is a nice the way in which rather than the artist being the sole producer of the work he instead gave guidance to participants to be the creator of their own work. As a whole this became an insight of the people of the Fukagawa shiryokan area. Not only can the work be seen through the photographs presented in the gallery but the viewer can go to those places where the sculpture exist in reality. The artist himself explains how he hopes that his project “enables audiences to see that in daily life as well, we are creating and living amid many invisible connections like these.”

“Each artist successfully made hidden constellations visible. “

Where we are in relation to a place. What is the history? The people? The culture? Where can we place our self? The site-specificity of each work gives the each piece in the show more depth than what may initially appear on the surface. In this exhibition it is interesting to observe how each artist perceived and created their own constellations. The diversity of different approaches each artist took kept the viewer’s on their feet throughout the whole show as one eagerly awaited to see what work was to follow. Each artist successfully made hidden constellations visible.

Photos and text by Anna Gonzalez Noguchi

Exhibition info
Title: Constellations – Practices for Unseen Connections/Discoveries
Date: 24 Jan – 22 Mar, 2015
Place: The Museum of Contemporary Art Tokyo, Tokyo.
Website: http://www.mot-art-museum.jp/eng/exhibition/constellations.html