Projects
I have started a project in which my works are installed and stored in people’s homes in the Tohoku region while simultaneously being exhibited. Two years ago, when it was decided that I would hold a solo exhibition at the Aomori Museum of Art (commonly known as Aomori Kenbi), I immediately thought that instead of exhibiting my works in the museum, I had to place them somewhere in the vast land of Tohoku that lies between my home in Tokyo and Aomori Kenbi. For some reason, connecting myself and my destination in a straight line felt very strange. It made me realize that it was essential to exhibit my works along the way, thoroughly and deliberately.
They regaled us with stories of their families and the things that happened around them. They were not talking about the kinds of things you would read in a newspaper, or the history of their village, or its ceremonies and customs. They were telling stories that were modest, refreshing, surprising, from their own daily lives. Things they didn’t usually tell anyone, some very bitter and sad, some trivial, some so painful you couldn’t help but laugh.
These were stories, and storytellers’ memories are selective. Some details were highlighted while others were omitted, all rendered anew in the retelling. I had no interest in knowing whether the stories are true or false. I also had no interest in recording memories for posterity. My interest lay solely in the act of “telling,” the ephemeral story that appears before your eyes and then disappears once more, with the storyteller’s breath, in that instant. Why? Because that is where I can see the vital but hidden “art” of the animals we call humans, an art that perhaps no one has ever paid attention to before.