A Mesmerizing Artistic and Cultural Confluence: “Dialogue of Paper - A legacy of Qatar - Japan Year of Culture” Exhibition at 3331 Arts Chiyoda (June 10th - 30th 2022)

Ghada Hadil Ben Fredj

Through a blend of artistic expression and cultural interchange, "Dialogue of Paper - A legacy of Qatar - Japan Year of Culture" exhibition took center stage at Tokyo's 3331 Arts Chiyoda from June 10th to June 30th, 2022. Curated by the deputy director of curatorial affairs at MATHAF: Arab Museum of Modern Art, Dr. Aisha Almisnad, this spellbinding exhibition brought together the Qatari artist Youssef Ahmed and Japanese artist Hayaki Nishigaki, transcending borders and celebrating the transformative power of artistic collaboration.

The exhibition, gracing the backdrop of the monumental Years of Culture program commemorating 50 years of diplomatic ties between Qatar and Japan, ventured beyond mere commemoration. “Dialogue of Paper” comes to fruition through the invitation of Nishigaki to Ahmed's art studio in Qatar, thanks to the Qatar Museum. Thus, led to 28 joint and individual artworks exhibited at 3331 Chiyoda, capturing the essence of this exchange, resonating deeply with the audience and breathing life into the exhibited artworks.

This firsthand cultural encounter has acted as a powerful catalyst, infusing their artistic practices with a kaleidoscope of newfound perspectives, while forging an undeniable, tangible connection between the enchanting realms of Qatar and Japan, as we can witness. Their collaboration has reached remarkable heights through bold experimentation with materials, notably by incorporating kozo (used for washi papermaking) from Japan with raw palm tree frond dough from Qatar. This unique amalgamation, born through their joint efforts, served as a striking metaphor for the convergence of emblematic symbols from both cultures. Each artwork created using this hybrid medium showcased the artists' dedication to breaking new ground and exemplified the transformative ability of art as a cultural bridge.

Beyond being merely intercultural, the exhibition epitomizes a profound transgenerational exchange between the two artists. Ahmed, a celebrated pioneer of Qatar's modern art movement, who drew inspiration from his homeland's flat desert landscapes. His textured abstractions, adorned with intricate Arabic calligraphy, resonated with a sense of serene spiritualism. In contrast, Nishigaki, a rising artist in Japan's art scene, infused sumi-e techniques with contemporary motifs such as the notorious Godzilla, pulsating with vibrant dynamism.

Among the captivating artworks in the collection, one delicately inscribed an extract from Surah Al-Hujurat in the Quran (49:13)* in black ink on the hybrid paper by Ahmad. Presented as a circular sentence akin to the graceful ensō, the artwork eloquently epitomized the profound essence of the exhibition. Nishigaki complements the central element with his distinctive artistic style, employing different shades of gray. Hence, the artwork's remarkable potency lies in its ability to bridge cultural divides and inspire connections, leaving an everlasting impression on the viewers.

1in English: "[...we] made you nations and tribes so that you may know one another"

In a nutshell, this exhibition proved to be a mesmerizing cultural confluence, where artistic exchange between Youssef Ahmed and Hayaki Nishigaki transcended boundaries, age and united two diverse cultural narratives. The in situ exchange, innovative material experimentation, and artistic symbiosis were masterfully intertwined, forming an eloquent dialogue that spoke to all languages of creativity. Ultimately, amidst the current climate of division and discord, "Dialogue of Paper - A legacy of Qatar - Japan Year of Culture" stands as a powerful testament to the profound impact of art as a bridge for cultural understanding and a joyous celebration of the interconnectedness beyond geographical borders.

 

＊in English: "[...we] made you nations and tribes so that you may know one another"

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Homepage: https://www.3331.jp/schedule/005591.html

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From East to West and back to East

Exhibition review on “D.T. Suzuki: Life=Zen=Art”, in The Watari Museum of Contemporary Art (July12th - Oct 30th 2022)

Lyudmila Georgieva

“D.T. Suzuki: Life=Zen=Art” exhibition was held in The Watari Museum of Contemporary  Art from July 12th, 2022 until October 30th. It aimed to explore the connection betweenZen  concepts of formlessness, infinity, and constant motion throughout different aspects of art and  culture - from philosophy and science to contemporary visual arts. D.T. Suzuki, the simultaneously famous and infamous ‘apologist’ of Zen, is put in the center, connecting the  different dots from past to present, East to West, and back to East. Being primarily famous todayfor ‘preaching’ Zen’s philosophy in the West after the Second World War, and also being accused  of distilling Zen for Western audiences, Suzuki is metaphorically returned to Japan andpresented  in a multi-historical and multi-cultural context. This makes the exhibition especially interesting:  How can we discuss the indisputable part this controversial figure played in the artswithout  falling for total rejection or overwhelming praise? Watari-um’s answer seems to be to present a  snippet of art history extending from traditional Zen worldview before Suzuki andspanning  toward contemporary art without ever making it an all-encompassing image – leaving it as one of  many possible perspectives.

There’s something to be said about the constant rotation of works from the Watari-um museum’s  collection as if the new exhibition is sometimes a mere excuse to show some of the works orauthors again and again. Nam Jun Paik is such a name, present in almost every new project the  museum attempts, including the currently discussed one. At the same time, however, when successful, this strategy offers new and different re-interpretations of historical works,  showcasing new possible historical and cultural narratives through which we can see art. The ‘S.  T.Suzuki exhibition’ was more successful than not in that.

As per usual, the exhibition took the three floors of the museum, conceptually beginning from the  third and going down. On the third floor, in a semi-traditional looking Japanese room, whereone  should take the shoes off before entering and sitting close to the floor, three images meant for  contemplation are projected: 18th-century monk Sengai Gibon's “Picture of the universe”, Kazimir Malevich’s “Black cross” and D.T. Suzuki’s “Form doesn’t differ from emptiness”. They  present the two main concepts of the exhibition: Zen’s notion of infinite movement between being and non-being, form and form-less, and the expansion of this idea throughout different  historical times and geo-political points: in traditional Japanese Buddhism, in Suzuki’s own thought (serving as a bridge between traditional and modern, Western and Eastern), in Western  modernist art’s search for a ‘zero point’.

This idea encompasses all of the exhibition, becoming more fleshed out as the audience moves through the rooms. The second floor is devoted to literary, philosophical, and science texts (of

Okakura Tenshin, J.D. Salinger, Nishida Kitaro), calligraphy scrolls (of Suzuki, Munakata Shiko), and a single statue of Koku Bodhisattva – a deity associated with the element of boundlessspace.  It thus follows the already presented idea through religious iconography, scientific world projections (of Minakata Kumagusu), Japanese philosophy conceptualizations of nothingness (Nishida Kitaro), and Western modernist literature in search for authenticity after the war  (Salinger).

If the second floor seems literary, the first explodes this built-up idea into visual art, featuring the  second half of the 20th century ‘masters’ like John Cage ("Not wanting to say anything about Marcel", 1969; "Zen Ox herding Pictures", 1988) and Nam June Pair ("I believe in reincarnation",  1987). The contemporary media artist Yamauchi Shota’s film piece “Maihime” conceptually brings it to the present day, in the aftermath of the pandemic, focused on the uncanny  disintegration and re-integration of the material body in constant flux. The ‘star of the show’ in  myopinion undoubtedly seems to be John Cage’s “Not Wanting to say anything about Marcel”  which takes the center of the main room on the floor. It’s formed of 8 Plexigrams each made from 8 transparent panels of Plexiglass with random texts and numbers plus a running human image on  them. The result is a moving picture of chance that changes with the viewer’s perspectivewhile  simultaneously also following the viewer when he circles the room. It remains opaque and  transparent at the same time, yielding meaning while constantly changing.

For a person interested in Zen and Eastern philosophy’s connection with culture and art inside  and beyond the borders of Japan this exhibition provides a story of influences and connectionsspanning the last three centuries from Asia to Europe and the USA and back. It has also  something to say about the war-riddled 20th century’s refusal of absolute certainty and exploration  ofchance itself. For me personally, it is a fascinating experiment on how to speak on figures like

D.T. Suzuki and ultimately – how to curate art history exhibitions on topics riddled with cliches  and appropriation as the influence of ‘Eastern thought’ beyond the ‘East’. The biggestadvantage  of Watari-um’s approach is that the story is ultimately left open-ended and doesn’t close the  audience to a single perspective. It's enriching however not totalizing. Suzuki is thus amotive but  not a sole reason for existence.

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Homepage: http://www.watarium.co.jp/jp/exhibition/202207/

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The Significance and Insignificance of Destinations

”Journey and Imagination: Connecting to the Stories of Others" Exhibition at Tokyo Metropolitan Teien Art Museum (23rd Sept. - 27th Nov. 2022)

Able Zhang

When we try to look up the word “destination” in Oxford Thesaurus of English, “journey’s end” would be the brief yet sound answer given to define such diction. It seems that the concept of journey, while considered the durational process of traveling, is naturally associated with two major questions: From where it started, and to what end eventually. The former question constantly reminds us of our given and self-initiated identities, while, on the other hand, the latter requires us to foresee or, more precisely, to outline our individual intentions. Furthermore, the idea of point-to-point orientation is also emphasized here in order to assign journeys significance.

 

Nonetheless, would it be possible for us to accept and even embrace journeys without designated significance, especially those of others? This was the question raised by the exhibition, “Journey and Imagination: Connecting to the Stories of Others” at Tokyo Metropolitan Teien Art Museum. Through a diversified range of methods and narratives which sketch different potentials of thinking about journey, as well as their inter-relational dialogues, this exhibition tends to present an inclusive collaboration between architecture, archive and contemporary art. Moreover, instead of merely focusing on addressing the nature and definition of “journey,” the exhibition further expands the conversation to the possession of one’s journey and engages with the idea of encounters and stimulation. Especially during the past few years, under the circumstance which COVID-19 seemed to put a stop sign on every aspect of our lives, were we or are we being stopped solely because we cannot travel as freely as we were in the past? What does the process of exchanging mean to our public and collective consciousness? How are individuals shifting their positions throughout these exchanges.

 

To locate possible responses to these questions, we need to start from the architecture itself, since it functions as a conceptual context for all works exhibited rather than merely the venue. In fact, the museum is both a garden and a historical building. The first half of this exhibition could be regarded as an introduction of the history and collection to this museum. This gesture offers the audiences a preview of “the past” associated with the site and theme of this exhibition and invites them to merge their experiences together when they enter the “present” setting of understandings.

 

There are three continuing parts developed in this exhibition. The first part is a historical perspective narrated through a trip to Europe taken by Prince and Princess Asaka a century ago, introducing its substantial influence on the exhibition’s venue—Tokyo Metropolitan Teien Art Museum. This part also works as prologue to the second part of collection and archive of collective memories associated with the same period and social background of that history. In the end, the timeline travels back to the present context in the museum’s new building, displaying a variety of contemporary accounts by artists—including Masaru Aikawa, Koichi Kurita, Hiraki Sawa, evala, Aiko Miyanaga, and others.

 

Through a discontinuous sequence of works which engage with the ideas of history, memory, recording, transportation, nature, time, selection, and action, this exhibition questions the audiences whether they are able to see themselves in such imagination and identify the distinctions between the artists and themselves yet noticing what has been shared in common. For instance, in the works of Hiraki Sawa and evala, we see alternative spaces are built to illustrate the circular experiences of life journeys. Sawa develops a combined yet harmonious narrative of everyday objects and abnormal arrangements, while evala brings interspace sound—like sound of insects from Southeast Asia or birds from North Europe—together to form a multidimensional understanding of how journeys stimulate not only our ways of thinking but also the other creatures.

 

Others’ journeys are always fascinating to us. In a way of speaking it, it is their property of being stories which makes them ultimately attractive. Perhaps, we are capable of sharing such stories in an approach which we have been ignoring constantly yet found in others’ stories. Our actions of giving significance to our journeys singularize the potential directions towards destinations or non-destinations to exclusively destinations. As the phase “そうぞう” being captured in two ways of writing in Kanji, “想像／創造 (Imagination/Creativity)” of the Japanese title for this exhibition suggests an alternative of thinking about how new experiences being emerged. Imagination depends on creativity, yet creativity transcends imagination. If we could allow ourselves to seize both of the significance and the insignificance of traveling, as well as destinations, we might be capable of finding ourselves much more pluralistic, inclusive and “relaxed” when we encounter art within our society, too.

 

Homepage:  https://www.teien-art-museum.ne.jp/en/exhibition/220923-1127_JourneyAndImagination.html

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Tohru Nakazaki: Fiction Traveler at Contemporary Art Gallery, Art Tower Mito (5th Nov. 2022 - 29th Jan. 2022)

Benjamin Korman

Tohru Nakazaki leads with his off-beat sense of humor; it reflects a very personal and unique point of view, which he turns towards every aspect of the world around him. From commercial signage to safety signals, his instinct is always to subvert, simplify, and lampoon. A visitor to these galleries will see the dozens and dozens of familiar backlit snack bar signs and think it mildly clever to take these ubiquitous signifiers of everyday life in Japan and bring them into the white cube space. But upon careful study you see that these signs, emblazoned with familiar business names but bearing Nakazaki’s own designs, reify the artist’s interior world and replace the real with fantastical uncanniness.

But Nakazaki’s greatest accomplishment is the way he took his unique perspective and made it into a polyphonic experience. Visitors are confronted with wall texts quoting people who, like the artist, are either long-time or native residents of Mito, Ibaraki and its surrounding plains. No one is credited and though some easy-to-follow narratives emerge, the faceless and plural nature of the quotations produce a schizophrenic effect. An elderly man, a concerned parent, a city bureaucrat—they all merge into a single faceless voice.

The humor lies in his tendency toward basic, almost childlike, abstraction. It can feel like he is recreating the world from a chest of toys (in some cases—like in a sound sculpture paired with a diorama of plastic dinosaurs—that is exactly what he is doing). Video works confront puns and onomatopoeia with William Wegmanesque absurdity. Scenes of nightlife from red-light districts are filtered into building-block shapes and primary colors. In the final gallery, a kotatsu faces a TV. On the low table is a playable Nintendo loaded up with Doctor Mario. A few times a week the artist comes in and you can play it with him before you leave.

Early in the exhibition, photographic, painted, and sculptural works highlight a fascination with spaces like Shinjuku at night and anonymous suburban street corners. True to life, the visitor comes upon a disaster, and spends the rest of the exhibition dealing with the aftermath through shared grief, quiet, and uncertainty. Scaffolding produces an uneasy canopy over a mess of overturned animal figures made from lumber and colored fluorescent light boxes. This scattered scene renders in blocks of bright color and neon light a flood so devastating that it brought parts of buildings and wild animals down to Mito all the way from Tochigi. Climbing the metal rungs of the scaffolding brings you to a testimony from one of the bureaucrats behind the construction of Art Tower Mito itself, and from then on the exhibition refers continuously to the relationship between the artist, the community, and the Arata Isozaki-designed landmark building.

This relationship was at its most affecting when visitors are confronted with a window facing out onto the grassy plaza in the center of the complex. A quotation explains the fear that some museum workers felt when the enormous floor-to-ceiling glass panes began to bend during the 2011 Tohoku Earthquake; from the lawn they watched them shatter. From here the show strikes a new tone. Images of empty trains strike a somber tone but references to his ensuing community work in Fukushima signal resilience and a burgeoning maturity not seen in his earlier works.

At times the blend of sculpture, painting, video, and text can feel like a mismatch. But there is a harmony in the magician’s-trunk-like quality of the exhibition tied together from the perspective of Nakazaki’s busy mind.

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Homepgage: https://www.arttowermito.or.jp/gallery/lineup/article_5186.html

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