Drawing Shadows

At this time, biscuit gallery will hold “notes of shadows,” a two-person exhibition featuring Tatsushi Kikuya and Kasumi Maeda, curated by Riho Matsue, as the first installment of “biscuit gallery Curator Projects,” a support initiative for emerging curators. The exhibition will run from September 8, 2022, across all three floors of biscuit gallery.

biscuit gallery has consistently organized exhibitions featuring emerging artists. Through “biscuit gallery Curator Projects,” we will support emerging curators in realizing free and experimental exhibitions and promote collaborative planning exhibitions.

The first curator is Riho Matsue, a graduate student in the Art Produce course at the International Arts Creation Research Department, Tokyo University of the Arts.

Riho Matsue

biscuit gallery will hold a two-person exhibition titled “notes of shadows” featuring Tatsushi Kikuya and Kasumi Maeda.
The existence of “shadow” has long literally lain beside us, inspiring people’s imagination. For instance, in a Greek legend recorded in Pliny the Elder’s “Natural History,” it is said that a maiden of Corinth traced the outline of her departing lover’s shadow, cast by lamplight, on a wall—this is told to be the origin of painting. Or, like a doppelgänger, shadows have appeared in numerous stories as reflections of oneself. The dark shadow, opposed to light, is often perceived psychologically as something negative. However, in this exhibition, we wish to observe the nature of shadows that accompany all things with substance and manifest in different dimensions, overlaying them with each artist’s stance and expressive methods toward their practice.
For instance, Kikuya, who has created surrealistic flat works and animations that seem to blend pop art, modern Western painting, and illustration based on everyday documentary photographs and videos remaining on his iPhone, positions his practice in the shadow of painting history while fluidly accepting painting expression as the “shadow” of the real world—records and images without substance. Meanwhile, Maeda has repeatedly expressed incompleteness and dissatisfaction with the body through mirrors and projectors. Her method of projecting her own body onto a flat surface and converting the outline and traces of its existence back into three-dimensional works with substance represents an attempt to find a way to accept bodily gaps and coexist with incompleteness.
To “note shadows” is to write a memo that something, someone, or oneself was there. In the present where everything passes swiftly, the attempts of these two artists—who continue to gaze at the shadows at their feet and seek their place in the world through their relationship with it—will likewise stir our imagination like shadows.

Curator of “notes of shadows,” Riho Matsue

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notes of shadows

Riho Matsue

Years ago, I was invited to gather at someone’s house I had never been to before. In the center of the room’s table sat a small branch of cherry blossoms in full bloom, placed in a vase. When I took out my iPhone to photograph it, someone in the room stopped me, saying, “Someone might have picked this illegally from somewhere, so please don’t photograph the flowers.” I can barely remember the face or name of the person who spoke to me or the other people I met that day, but only the shadow of the cherry blossom branch, which I photographed instead for that reason, still remains in my iPhone’s photo folder.

Just as a “cherry blossom branch” is cherry blossoms but a “shadow of a cherry blossom branch” is not considered cherry blossoms, a “shadow” indicates that something is or was real, yet it is not that thing itself. And a photograph of a shadow that vaguely preserves the characteristic contour of the cherry blossom branch further stirs imagination, making one think, for example, “Perhaps that cherry blossom was actually artificial,” or “It might actually have been a plum or peach blossom.” In that sense, the shadow is also floating away from the reality itself.

Though my preamble has grown long, as the title “notes of shadows” suggests, this exhibition shines a light on the works of two artists, Tatsushi Kikuya and Kasumi Maeda, through the theme of “shadow.”

The space on the 1F of the exhibition venue is occupied by Kikuya’s works. Based on everyday documentary photographs and videos remaining on his iPhone, he has created flat works and animations that interweave fact and fiction while blending pop art, modern Western painting, and illustration. Many of his works take as their motif “shadows”—secondary byproducts of the real world such as recorded landscapes or circulating images. The small-scale works lined up on the walls of the exhibition space all have “esquisse” in their titles, revealing them to be subsidiary works, like sketches for other pieces. While each has individual themes such as camping or running, all were created based on Kikuya’s past memories or fantasies, improvised and continuous in their making. Furthermore, the eye-catching LED work “Lightning Dog (Jake)” is literally a work featuring a glowing dog and human, and connects with the image of dogs seen within the esquisse series works.

The exhibition space on the 2F is centered on Maeda’s new works. She has created video works and three-dimensional pieces that record the behavior of examining incompleteness and dissatisfaction regarding the materiality of her own body. “The way to move a hill,” displayed in the center of the exhibition room, is an installation work consisting of an iron tool resembling an armrest made to fit Maeda’s body size, a monitor, and an instruction board noting the sequence of movements Maeda performs in the video. The video records a performance Maeda conducted using the tool. The numbers written on the instruction board and the names of each body part correspond to the movements in the video, making it possible to roughly imagine the flow of the performance, but from the close-up footage, it is difficult to confirm exactly how the artist actually moved. The screen merely shows the real texture of skin touching the cushioned surface of the tool, evoking the presence of Maeda who once touched the tool, while the partial rawness of the absent body creates a different impression from the actual body. “vis a vis,” displayed at the front of the exhibition room, is a video work in which Maeda hides her face with one palm while moving in relation to the camera filming her. In this work as well, the image of the palm continuously shown in the center of the screen gradually unravels, seeming to transform into something else, floating away from Maeda’s particular body like a shadow.

Even before this, Maeda has approached the materiality of her own body through various methods. In earlier works, she frequently employs projectors and mirrors. “Far Away Body,” displayed on the 3F, is a video work showing her body projected onto a screen via a projector, with only her limbs passing through the screen in an awkward state while she fills the displaced outline of her body with clay. Additionally, “Dancing on the Wall #3,” “Dancing on the Wall #4,” and “Dancing on the Wall #6” are works in which she traces the outline of her body as reflected in a mirror onto two acrylic plates using both her right and left hands, overlaps them, and replaces the lines with stone powder clay. In both works, one can observe the process of measuring the distance between her own clumsy body and sensation, attempting to reclaim sensation once again. When Maeda thinks of the body, there simultaneously exists both a lightness that distances herself and a weight that draws herself closer.

And displayed at the back of the 3F is Kikuya’s video work “Notebook Animated 1.” Viewing this video, one realizes that all the works displayed on the 1F and front of the 3F are fragments or parts that appear in the animation. This tendency in Kikuya’s works was also evident in his solo exhibition “FLAME REACTION” held in Kanazawa in 2012. Wakayama, who wrote a review of that exhibition at the time, commented that “(Kikuya’s works) literally ‘emboss’ a unique ‘world’ by separating the background (world) from the motif (world), making it seem as if the motif is floating.” And borrowing the term “floating images”—used in that exhibition review—the fragments used in the animation process but separated from it (esquisse, stop-motion parts, LED works, etc.) are precisely “floating images” that overlap with the nature of shadows. And the animation itself is a work that montages various forms based on photographs and records remaining on the artist’s iPhone, memories, and images of unexperienced events. What exists here is not a sense of floating that moves achronistically through time, like dogs sniffing out lingering scents of the past or premonitions of future rain?

Indeed, the philosopher Plato once said, “People bound to a wall, looking at a wall, see only shadows and believe them to be real.” Recorded things, images without substance, fragments and traces of these—pieced together, montaged in memory, appearing like a narrative from the present perspective. Like historical revisionists, believing only these to be correct may sometimes be an error. Yet subtle shadows and traces from the past often give us a real sense at unexpected moments and stir our imagination. The reason I contemplate practice like that of Kikuya and Maeda—to “note the shadows” at our own feet—is because I want everyone to be able to return to this moment again someday and think anew or redo something, I believe.

My iPhone still holds one photograph of a cherry blossom branch’s shadow.

All I can remember now is that a cherry blossom was there.

[1] Mitsuhiro Wakayama, “Floating Images”
(reviews [Tatsushi Kikuya Solo Exhibition “FLAME REACTION”/Ishikawa], 2012)

 

【Overview of “biscuit gallery Curator Projects”】
A support project for art exhibition planning activities by emerging curators

Continuous efforts providing support to curators and exhibiting artists in all aspects of holding exhibitions, including curation fees, exhibition costs, venue fees, operations, and publicity.
Inquiries: info@biscuitgallery.com

【WEB Art Handbook Interview Article】

https://bijutsutecho.com/magazine/interview/oil/26027

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