An Essay by Ken Kobayashi – Takumi Saito “In the time flowing down”

Bright Shade

The time where you feel as if you’re returning to your true self within the course of the every day, becoming used to being honest. It’s a feeling similar to what you’ve almost forgotten from childhood. Precious but easy to lose, this is why I wanted to draw this in my work.    (Takumi Saito) 

　Without the right amount of water, light conditions, and nutrients, plants are unable to flourish. Light is a particularly important necessity, yet it’s difficult to produce artificially. Consequently, while it’s essential to find a spot which gets the proper amount of sunlight for each plant, for some, “bright shade” is more appropriate. If taken literally, this has to be a place of both light and shadow at the same time, and one wonders what this contradictory brightness is exactly. I tried to imagine such environments as a room with light shining through lace curtains, a place where the sun shines through trees, or a place where the sun shines for a short period of time, but none of them seems to be correct, as the actual illumination would vary considerably if measured. Opening and synthesizing several gardening books, we find that it is apparently a shade that is faintly brightened by indirect sunlight. Even knowing this, it is still difficult to grasp a clear vision of brightness from the phrase “bright shade.” This ambiguity is interesting, as if to say that because plants are bound to die from this vagueness, and we have no choice but to rely on the experience gained from our mistakes. However, situations in which we confront this reality, without being assured of our control over the plant’s life and death, is somehow uncomfortable, as if it allows for a place of distorted feelings.

　When I first saw Takumi Saito’s paintings, I was grasped by similar feelings. Frankly speaking, it was a bit awkward. I felt hesitant to look at other peoples’ quiet, daily lives, but at the same time, I also felt a perverse happiness in submitting to their irresistible whims. The work is faintly imbued with a complex emotion that is a mixture of the desire to look, longing, nostalgia, and adoration. There is a dangerous innocence, like that of a child who wavers unknowingly between the ambiguous boundary between loving and teasing. The colors are low in contrast, arranged in gentle tones, and the outlines are rounded and simple. The girls’ archaic expression, as if they are thinking of nothing at all, may be due to the simple expression of their eyes, which are merely a combination of solitary and elliptical shapes. The stylized drawing expression functions like lace to soften the awkwardness of Saito’s stealthy gaze. In Roland Barthes’ textual theory, “The Death of the Author,”[1] The death of the author,” the painter’s presence is left out of consideration, allowing the viewer to perceive the work without interference and making it easier to analyze the work itself. Saito’s work, however, does not allow for this. The author is never allowed to die, the ego and line of sight is revealed. Although we can say with certainty that her eyes do not contain any vulgar emotion, we do not deny that there is a small amount of violence inherent in her voyeuristic attitude. The more one tries to forget Saito, the artist, and to look purely at what is depicted in the work, the more one feels awkward, as if one is about to be assimilated into the slight sense of danger that pervades the work. This is a gentle, yet awe-inspiring painting that entangles the viewer. So, let’s untangle it little by little, and first of all, let’s tame this awkwardness.

　Saito paints not only girls, but also empty parks, landscapes of trees, and small toys. Let us start by thinking about those works. It seems that places and things that everyone else overlooks, or never pays attention to, are very attractive to Saito. For a moment, I had the fleeting vision that she might be depicting the scenery beyond the girls’ vague gazes, but I dismissed this idea because these sceneries seem a little too sharp to be superimposed on the girls’ empty gazes and appear to possess the spirit of searching for the “spirit of the place” [2], so to speak. The concept of “Terrain Vague” (vacant land) [3], as described by architect Ignasi Solà de Morales, refers to the vacant land that appears in urban voids, so-called abandoned or unused sites. No matter how functionally and efficiently a city is built, distortions are bound to occur somewhere.  No matter how functional and efficient a city is, distortions are bound to occur. Urban planning is the process of eliminating these distortions, or vacant lots. Solà de Morales describes it as “colonial construction,” and that is exactly what it is. By targeting the “Terrain Vague,” a dormant place abandoned by the usurper called the city, or a place where people are forced to flee, artistic expression brings out the unknown inherent in the city. Saito’s eyes do the same. The playground equipment standing in a deserted and unpopular park without a child interact with it on the playground only reminds us of the absence of the bustle that should have once existed there. Saito does not ask why the place has gone out of use, but rather depicts the absence and the empty unknown that arises in the “Terrain Vague,” a place that cannot be filled. What Christian Norberg-Schulz calls the “spirit of the place (Genius Loci),” is an attitude that contextualizes the history and spirit of a place’s past. The unknown aspect of the “Terrain Vague” is a situation in which the worn “spirit of the place” retains only a few remaining traces. Here, Saito gently captures the image she senses from the “spirit of the place,” which is so faint that only she can perceive it.

　Unknown and ambiguous. Let us return to the painting of the girls. Saito does not depict the girls as portraits. They are depicted as “ambiguous” beings who are “not yet” anything. The girls, with nowhere to be, are looking vaguely familiar. But their eyes. There is no light in the eyes of these girls, who are vulnerably exposing their unposed true faces. They are not aware that they are being watched, and even if their eyes were looking at us, they would never “see” us. For the girls in the painting, the absence is Saito and us.  It is impossible for our gazes to meet with something that is not there. If they do not meet, do they bounce off each other instead? The story of Through the Looking- Glass, and What Alice Found There [4] begins with the contrasting portrayal of Kitty, a black cat, and Snowdrop, a white cat. The presence of the two cats imprints on the reader’s consciousness from the beginning the role of a mirror that creates something similar but not identical. Kitty and Snowdrop are a mischievous black cat and a good little white cat, but in the mirror world they are transformed into an pedantic red queen and a somewhat lackluster white queen, inverting the balance between them. The world of the mirror reflects a semblance of reality, but it is still different. The moment Alice enters the world of mirrors, she spins around to show Kitty the world of reflections, reflecting everything in the room in her hand mirror. The moment she enters the mirror world, she realizes that it is different from reality, and instead of being anxious, she is delighted and excited. The world of the mirror image seems to be an exact replica of reality, but it is clearly something else. In his “A Short History of the Shadow,” Victor Stoichitsa discusses how his predecessors after Pliny’s “Natural History” tried to find the origin of painting through shadows and mirrors. He also introduces a passed from Alberti’s “Theory of Painting,” which states … Always, on the other side of what you see, there are shadows…”[5]. If a shadow is cast by the blocking of light striking an object, there is always light reflected on the opposite side of the shadow. Stoichitsa quotes Alberti as being somewhat critical of shadows as being under the control of the mirror paradigm, but even if this is not his intention, this mirroring relationship between light and shadow is suggestive.  Since the line of sight is an exchange of light between the two, the line of sight can only be reciprocated if the two sides facing each other are equally bright.  If one light is too strong, it will only cut out and deprive the object, and in that sense, the act of looking becomes violent. This is why Saito’s paintings are always especially white toned. She keeps her gaze in light and clouds; to point out the bright shade. Stoikitsa draws on Hegel in his preface to “The History of Shadows” [6]. Light and shadow are identical in that neither perfect light nor perfect darkness can be perceived, and it is only when they are in a reciprocal relationship of clouded light and illuminated darkness, respectively, that it is possible to discuss a distinction between the two. Too much light drowns out everything, and the deeper the darkness, the more it swallows everything. The world as seen by the human eye is established quietly in between the two. Saito’s world of paintings exists within the narrow range of brightness allowed to human beings. If dazzling light eventually shines on it, this scene may appear even more dazzling. But then, Saito’s gaze on the girls must be strong as well, or their figures will be drowned out by the light. This intimate place does not need strong light. Even if you can’t bear the awkwardness, don’t look too hard at this fragile and ambiguous place. This is a safe, ambiguous space, a gaping hole in the middle of society, wealth, politics, and all the other troublesome events created by glitzy adults. It is a place where it is permissible to be no one. In the twilight, it is also permissible to pretend to see nothing. Saito’s paintings are about things that are allowed to exist in the bright shade, but are quietly locked away in the painting, unnoticed.

[1] Roland Barthes, “The Death of the Author,” in Introduction to the Structural Analysis of the Narrative, Translated by Hikaru Hanawa, Misuzu Shobo, (1979).
[2] Christian Norberg-Schulz, Genius Loci: Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture, Translated by Kunio Kato and Yuzei Tazaki, Sumai Library Publishing Company, (1994).
[3] Ignasi Solà de Morales, “Terrain Vague,” Translated by Jun Tanaka, in “Anyplace,” NTT Publishing Co., Ltd., (1996): 128-134
[4] Lewis Carrol, Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There, Illustrated by  and Translated by , Esquire Magazine Japan(画:ヤン・シュヴァンクマイエル / 訳:久美里美)、エスクァイアマガジンジャパン、(2006).
[5] Victor Stoichitsa, A Short History of the Shadow,Translated by Atsushi Okada and Kaneshi Nishida, Heibonsha, (2008): 80
[6] Victor Stoichitsa, A Short History of the Shadow, Translated by Atsushi Okada and Kaneshi Nishida, Heibonsha, (2008): 7

Text by Ken Kobayashi
Translation by Elizabeth L. Jesse

Bright Shade

The time where you feel as if you’re returning to your true self within the course of the every day, becoming used to being honest. It’s a feeling similar to what you’ve almost forgotten from childhood. Precious but easy to lose, this is why I wanted to draw this in my work. (Takumi Saito)

　Without the right amount of water, light conditions, and nutrients, plants are unable to flourish. Light is a particularly important necessity, yet it’s difficult to produce artificially. Consequently, while it’s essential to find a spot which gets the proper amount of sunlight for each plant, for some, “bright shade” is more appropriate. If taken literally, this has to be a place of both light and shadow at the same time, and one wonders what this contradictory brightness is exactly. I tried to imagine such environments as a room with light shining through lace curtains, a place where the sun shines through trees, or a place where the sun shines for a short period of time, but none of them seems to be correct, as the actual illumination would vary considerably if measured. Opening and synthesizing several gardening books, we find that it is apparently a shade that is faintly brightened by indirect sunlight. Even knowing this, it is still difficult to grasp a clear vision of brightness from the phrase “bright shade.” This ambiguity is interesting, as if to say that because plants are bound to die from this vagueness, and we have no choice but to rely on the experience gained from our mistakes. However, situations in which we confront this reality, without being assured of our control over the plant’s life and death, is somehow uncomfortable, as if it allows for a place of distorted feelings.

　When I first saw Takumi Saito’s paintings, I was grasped by similar feelings. Frankly speaking, it was a bit awkward. I felt hesitant to look at other peoples’ quiet, daily lives, but at the same time, I also felt a perverse happiness in submitting to their irresistible whims. The work is faintly imbued with a complex emotion that is a mixture of the desire to look, longing, nostalgia, and adoration. There is a dangerous innocence, like that of a child who wavers unknowingly between the ambiguous boundary between loving and teasing. The colors are low in contrast, arranged in gentle tones, and the outlines are rounded and simple. The girls’ archaic expression, as if they are thinking of nothing at all, may be due to the simple expression of their eyes, which are merely a combination of solitary and elliptical shapes. The stylized drawing expression functions like lace to soften the awkwardness of Saito’s stealthy gaze. In Roland Barthes’ textual theory, “The Death of the Author,”[1] The death of the author,” the painter’s presence is left out of consideration, allowing the viewer to perceive the work without interference and making it easier to analyze the work itself. Saito’s work, however, does not allow for this. The author is never allowed to die, the ego and line of sight is revealed. Although we can say with certainty that her eyes do not contain any vulgar emotion, we do not deny that there is a small amount of violence inherent in her voyeuristic attitude. The more one tries to forget Saito, the artist, and to look purely at what is depicted in the work, the more one feels awkward, as if one is about to be assimilated into the slight sense of danger that pervades the work. This is a gentle, yet awe-inspiring painting that entangles the viewer. So, let’s untangle it little by little, and first of all, let’s tame this awkwardness.

　Saito paints not only girls, but also empty parks, landscapes of trees, and small toys. Let us start by thinking about those works. It seems that places and things that everyone else overlooks, or never pays attention to, are very attractive to Saito. For a moment, I had the fleeting vision that she might be depicting the scenery beyond the girls’ vague gazes, but I dismissed this idea because these sceneries seem a little too sharp to be superimposed on the girls’ empty gazes and appear to possess the spirit of searching for the “spirit of the place” [2], so to speak. The concept of “Terrain Vague” (vacant land) [3], as described by architect Ignasi Solà de Morales, refers to the vacant land that appears in urban voids, so-called abandoned or unused sites. No matter how functionally and efficiently a city is built, distortions are bound to occur somewhere. No matter how functional and efficient a city is, distortions are bound to occur. Urban planning is the process of eliminating these distortions, or vacant lots. Solà de Morales describes it as “colonial construction,” and that is exactly what it is. By targeting the “Terrain Vague,” a dormant place abandoned by the usurper called the city, or a place where people are forced to flee, artistic expression brings out the unknown inherent in the city. Saito’s eyes do the same. The playground equipment standing in a deserted and unpopular park without a child interact with it on the playground only reminds us of the absence of the bustle that should have once existed there. Saito does not ask why the place has gone out of use, but rather depicts the absence and the empty unknown that arises in the “Terrain Vague,” a place that cannot be filled. What Christian Norberg-Schulz calls the “spirit of the place (Genius Loci),” is an attitude that contextualizes the history and spirit of a place’s past. The unknown aspect of the “Terrain Vague” is a situation in which the worn “spirit of the place” retains only a few remaining traces. Here, Saito gently captures the image she senses from the “spirit of the place,” which is so faint that only she can perceive it.

　Unknown and ambiguous. Let us return to the painting of the girls. Saito does not depict the girls as portraits. They are depicted as “ambiguous” beings who are “not yet” anything. The girls, with nowhere to be, are looking vaguely familiar. But their eyes. There is no light in the eyes of these girls, who are vulnerably exposing their unposed true faces. They are not aware that they are being watched, and even if their eyes were looking at us, they would never “see” us. For the girls in the painting, the absence is Saito and us. It is impossible for our gazes to meet with something that is not there. If they do not meet, do they bounce off each other instead? The story of Through the Looking- Glass, and What Alice Found There [4] begins with the contrasting portrayal of Kitty, a black cat, and Snowdrop, a white cat. The presence of the two cats imprints on the reader’s consciousness from the beginning the role of a mirror that creates something similar but not identical. Kitty and Snowdrop are a mischievous black cat and a good little white cat, but in the mirror world they are transformed into an pedantic red queen and a somewhat lackluster white queen, inverting the balance between them. The world of the mirror reflects a semblance of reality, but it is still different. The moment Alice enters the world of mirrors, she spins around to show Kitty the world of reflections, reflecting everything in the room in her hand mirror. The moment she enters the mirror world, she realizes that it is different from reality, and instead of being anxious, she is delighted and excited. The world of the mirror image seems to be an exact replica of reality, but it is clearly something else. In his “A Short History of the Shadow,” Victor Stoichitsa discusses how his predecessors after Pliny’s “Natural History” tried to find the origin of painting through shadows and mirrors. He also introduces a passed from Alberti’s “Theory of Painting,” which states … Always, on the other side of what you see, there are shadows…”[5]. If a shadow is cast by the blocking of light striking an object, there is always light reflected on the opposite side of the shadow. Stoichitsa quotes Alberti as being somewhat critical of shadows as being under the control of the mirror paradigm, but even if this is not his intention, this mirroring relationship between light and shadow is suggestive. Since the line of sight is an exchange of light between the two, the line of sight can only be reciprocated if the two sides facing each other are equally bright. If one light is too strong, it will only cut out and deprive the object, and in that sense, the act of looking becomes violent. This is why Saito’s paintings are always especially white toned. She keeps her gaze in light and clouds; to point out the bright shade. Stoikitsa draws on Hegel in his preface to “The History of Shadows” [6]. Light and shadow are identical in that neither perfect light nor perfect darkness can be perceived, and it is only when they are in a reciprocal relationship of clouded light and illuminated darkness, respectively, that it is possible to discuss a distinction between the two. Too much light drowns out everything, and the deeper the darkness, the more it swallows everything. The world as seen by the human eye is established quietly in between the two. Saito’s world of paintings exists within the narrow range of brightness allowed to human beings. If dazzling light eventually shines on it, this scene may appear even more dazzling. But then, Saito’s gaze on the girls must be strong as well, or their figures will be drowned out by the light. This intimate place does not need strong light. Even if you can’t bear the awkwardness, don’t look too hard at this fragile and ambiguous place. This is a safe, ambiguous space, a gaping hole in the middle of society, wealth, politics, and all the other troublesome events created by glitzy adults. It is a place where it is permissible to be no one. In the twilight, it is also permissible to pretend to see nothing. Saito’s paintings are about things that are allowed to exist in the bright shade, but are quietly locked away in the painting, unnoticed.

[1] Roland Barthes, “The Death of the Author,” in Introduction to the Structural Analysis of the Narrative, Translated by Hikaru Hanawa, Misuzu Shobo, (1979).
[2] Christian Norberg-Schulz, Genius Loci: Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture, Translated by Kunio Kato and Yuzei Tazaki, Sumai Library Publishing Company, (1994).
[3] Ignasi Solà de Morales, “Terrain Vague,” Translated by Jun Tanaka, in “Anyplace,” NTT Publishing Co., Ltd., (1996): 128-134
[4] Lewis Carrol, Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There, Illustrated by and Translated by , Esquire Magazine Japan(画:ヤン・シュヴァンクマイエル / 訳:久美里美)、エスクァイアマガジンジャパン、(2006).
[5] Victor Stoichitsa, A Short History of the Shadow,Translated by Atsushi Okada and Kaneshi Nishida, Heibonsha, (2008): 80
[6] Victor Stoichitsa, A Short History of the Shadow, Translated by Atsushi Okada and Kaneshi Nishida, Heibonsha, (2008): 7

Text by Ken Kobayashi
Translation by Elizabeth L. Jesse

⚡ AI Translation

Bright Shade

당신이 자신의 진정한 자아로 돌아가고 있다는 느낌이 드는 시간, 정직함에 익숙해지는 과정 속에서의 그 순간들. 그것은 어릴 적부터 거의 잊혀져 가던 무언가와 비슷한 느낌입니다. 소중하지만 잃기 쉬운 것, 그래서 내 작품에 이것을 그리고 싶었습니다. (Takumi Saito)

　식물이 번성하기 위해서는 적절한 양의 물, 빛의 조건, 그리고 영양분이 필요합니다. 특히 빛은 중요한 필수 요소이지만 인위적으로 만들기는 어렵습니다. 따라서 각 식물에 적합한 양의 햇빛을 받는 장소를 찾는 것이 필수적이지만, 일부 식물에게는 “밝은 그늘”이 더 적합합니다. 문자 그대로 해석하면, 이는 동시에 빛과 그림자가 있는 장소여야 하며, 이 모순적인 밝음이 정확히 무엇인지 궁금해집니다. 나는 레이스 커튼을 통해 빛이 비치는 방, 나무 사이로 햇빛이 비치는 장소, 또는 햇빛이 짧은 시간 동안 비치는 장소 같은 환경들을 상상하려고 했지만, 실제 조도를 측정하면 상당히 달라질 것이므로 그 어느 것도 정확하지 않습니다. 여러 원예 책을 펼쳐 종합해보면, 이것은 간접 햇빛으로 희미하게 밝혀진 그늘인 것 같습니다. 이를 알아도 “밝은 그늘”이라는 표현에서 명확한 밝기의 비전을 파악하기는 여전히 어렵습니다. 이 모호함은 흥미로운데, 마치 식물들이 이 모호함으로 인해 죽을 수밖에 없고, 우리는 실패로부터 얻은 경험에만 의존할 수밖에 없다는 것을 말하는 것처럼 보입니다. 그러나 식물의 생사에 대한 우리의 통제를 보장받지 못한 채 이 현실에 직면하는 상황은 어떻게든 불편한데, 이는 왜곡된 감정의 자리를 허용하는 것처럼 느껴집니다.

　Takumi Saito의 그림을 처음 봤을 때, 나는 비슷한 감정에 사로잡혔습니다. 솔직히 말해서, 그것은 약간 어색했습니다. 다른 사람들의 조용하고 일상적인 삶을 보는 것이 주저되었지만, 동시에 그들의 저항할 수 없는 변덕에 항복하는 것에서 거부할 수 없는 기쁨을 느꼈습니다. 이 작품은 보고 싶은 욕망, 동경, 향수, 그리고 경배의 혼합인 복잡한 감정으로 희미하게 스며 있습니다. 사랑과 놀림의 모호한 경계 사이에서 무의식적으로 흔들리는 아이처럼 위험한 순수함이 있습니다. 색상은 명도 대비가 낮고 부드러운 톤으로 배열되어 있으며, 윤곽선은 둥글고 단순합니다. 마치 아무것도 생각하지 않는 것처럼 보이는 소녀들의 고풍스러운 표정은 단순히 고독하고 타원형의 조합인 눈의 간단한 표현 때문일 수 있습니다. 양식화된 드로잉 표현은 Saito의 은밀한 시선의 어색함을 부드럽게 하는 레이스처럼 기능합니다. Roland Barthes의 텍스트 이론 “저자의 죽음”에서, 화가의 존재는 고려 대상에서 제외되어 관객이 간섭 없이 작품을 인식하고 작품 자체를 더 쉽게 분석할 수 있습니다. 그러나 Saito의 작품은 그렇지 않습니다. 저자는 절대 죽을 수 없으며, 자아와 시선이 드러납니다. 그녀의 눈에 저속한 감정이 없다고 확실히 말할 수 있지만, 그녀의 관음증적 태도에 약간의 폭력이 내재되어 있다는 것을 부정하지는 않습니다. Saito 예술가를 잊으려고 하고 작품에 그려진 것만 순수하게 보려고 할수록, 작품에 가득 찬 약간의 위험감에 동화될 것 같은 어색함을 더 느낍니다. 이것은 온화하면서도 경외심을 불러일으키는 그림으로 관객을 얽혀 있습니다. 그렇다면, 이를 조금씩 풀어보고, 우선 이 어색함을 길들여 봅시다.

　Saito는 소녀들뿐만 아니라 빈 공원, 나무의 풍경, 그리고 작은 장난감들도 그립니다. 그 작품들을 먼저 생각해 봅시다. 다른 모든 사람들이 간과하거나 관심을 주지 않는 장소와 사물들이 Saito에게 매우 매력적인 것 같습니다. 한 순간, 그녀가 소녀들의 모호한 시선 너머의 풍경을 그리고 있을 수도 있다는 순간적인 환상을 가졌지만, 이 풍경들이 소녀들의 공허한 시선에 겹쳐져 있기에는 약간 너무 선명해 보이고 이른바 “장소의 정신”을 찾는 정신을 소유하고 있는 것 같아서 이 생각을 버렸습니다. 건축가 Ignasi Solà de Morales가 설명한 “Terrain Vague”(유휴지) 개념은 도시의 공백에 나타나는 유휴지, 소위 버려지거나 사용되지 않는 부지를 말합니다. 아무리 기능적이고 효율적으로 도시가 지어졌어도, 어딘가에서 왜곡이 불가피하게 발생합니다. 아무리 기능적이고 효율적이어도, 어딘가에 왜곡이 반드시 생깁니다. 도시 계획은 이러한 왜곡이나 유휴 부지를 제거하는 과정입니다. Solà de Morales는 이를 “식민지 건설”이라고 부르며, 정확히 그러합니다. “Terrain Vague”를 표적으로, 도시라는 약탈자에게 버려진 휴면 장소 또는 사람들이 도망쳐야 하는 장소에서, 예술적 표현은 도시에 내재된 미지를 드러냅니다. Saito의 눈도 마찬가지입니다. 버려지고 인적이 드문 공원에 서 있는 놀이터 장비는 한때 존재했어야 할 북새통이 없음을 상기시킬 뿐입니다. Saito는 그 장소가 왜 더 이상 사용되지 않는지는 묻지 않고, “Terrain Vague”라는 채워질 수 없는 장소에서 발생하는 부재와 공허한 미지를 그립니다. Christian Norberg-Schulz가 말하는 “장소의 정신(Genius Loci)”은 장소의 과거의 역사와 정신을 맥락화하는 태도입니다. “Terrain Vague”의 미지의 측면은 낡은 “장소의 정신”이 몇 가지 남은 흔적만 간직하고 있는 상황입니다. 여기서 Saito는 자신만이 감지할 수 있을 정도로 희미한 “장소의 정신”에서 느끼는 이미지를 부드럽게 포착합니다.

　미지의 것과 모호함. 다시 소녀들의 그림으로 돌아갑시다. Saito는 소녀들을 초상화로 그리지 않습니다. 그들은 아직 무엇도 “아닌” 모호한 존재들로 그려집니다. 갈 곳이 없는 소녀들은 애매하게 친숙해 보입니다. 하지만 그들의 눈입니다. 자신의 꾸미지 않은 진정한 얼굴을 취약하게 드러내는 이 소녀들의 눈에는 빛이 없습니다. 그들은 자신이 관찰당하고 있다는 것을 인식하지 못하며, 그들의 눈이 우리를 보고 있더라도 우리를 절대 “볼” 수 없을 것입니다. 그림 속의 소녀들에게, 부재는 Saito이고 우리입니다. 우리의 시선이 그곳에 없는 무언가와 만날 수는 없습니다. 만나지 못하면 대신 튕겨나갈까요? Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There의 이야기는 검은 고양이 Kitty와 흰 고양이 Snowdrop의 대조적인 묘사로 시작됩니다. 두 고양이의 존재는 유사하지만 동일하지 않은 무언가를 만드는 거울의 역할을 독자의 의식에 깊이 새깁니다. Kitty와 Snowdrop은 장난스러운 검은 고양이와 착한 흰 고양이이지만, 거울 세계에서는 까다로운 붉은 여왕과 다소 부실한 흰 여왕으로 변하여 그들 사이의 균형을 역전시킵니다. 거울 세계는 현실의 모습을 반영하지만, 여전히 다릅니다. Alice가 거울 세계에 들어가는 순간, 그녀는 돌아서서 Kitty에게 손거울에서 방의 모든 것을 반영하는 반사 세계를 보여줍니다. 거울 세계에 들어가는 순간, 그것이 현실과 다르다는 것을 깨달으며, 불안감 대신 즐거움과 흥분을 느낍니다. 거울상의 세계는 현실의 정확한 복제본처럼 보이지만, 명확히 다른 무언가입니다. Victor Stoichitsa는 “그림자의 짧은 역사“에서 Pliny의 “자연사” 이후의 그의 선배들이 어떻게 그림자와 거울을 통해 그림의 기원을 찾으려고 했는지 논의합니다. 그는 또한 Alberti의 “회화 이론”에서 나온 구절을 소개하는데, 이것은 … 항상, 당신이 보는 것의 반대쪽에는 그림자가 있습니다…”라고 합니다. 빛을 물체에 차단함으로써 그림자가 드리워진다면, 그림자의 반대쪽에는 항상 반사된 빛이 있습니다. Stoichitsa는 Alberti의 견해를 다소 거울 패러다임의 통제 아래 있는 것으로 비판적으로 인용하지만, 이것이 그의 의도가 아니더라도, 빛과 그림자 사이의 이 거울 관계는 시사적입니다. 시선은 둘 사이의 빛의 교환이므로, 서로 마주보는 양쪽이 똑같이 밝아야만 시선이 서로 교환될 수 있습니다. 한쪽 빛이 너무 강하면 대상을 자르고 빼앗기만 할 것이고, 그런 의미에서 보는 행위는 폭력이 됩니다. 이것이 Saito의 그림이 항상 특히 백톤인 이유입니다. 그녀는 자신의 시선을 빛과 구름 속에 유지합니다. 밝은 그늘을 지적하기 위해. Stoikitsa는 “그림자의 역사” 서문에서 Hegel을 인용합니다. 빛과 그림자는 완벽한 빛도 완벽한 어둠도 인식할 수 없다는 점에서 동일하며, 흐린 빛과 밝혀진 어둠이 각각 상호적 관계에 있을 때만 둘 사이의 구분을 논하는 것이 가능합니다. 너무 많은 빛은 모든 것을 익사시키고, 더 깊은 어둠은 더 많은 것을 삼켜버립니다. 인간의 눈으로 본 세계는 둘 사이의 조용한 곳에서 이루어집니다. Saito의 그림 세계는 인간이 허락된 좁은 범위의 밝기 내에 존재합니다. 만약 부자귀한 빛이 결국 그것을 비친다면, 이 장면은 훨씬 더 부자귀하게 보일 수도 있습니다. 하지만 그렇다면, Saito의 소녀들을 향한 시선도 강해야 하며, 그렇지 않으면 그들의 모습이 빛에 익사당할 것입니다. 이 친밀한 장소는 강한 빛을 필요로 하지 않습니다. 어색함을 견딜 수 없더라도, 이 취약하고 모호한 곳을 너무 열심히 보지 마세요. 이것은 안전한 모호한 공간으로, 사회, 부, 정치, 그리고 화려한 어른들이 만든 모든 다른 번거로운 사건들 한가운데의 벌어진 구멍입니다. 아무도 아닐 수 있는 것이 허용되는 장소입니다. 황혼 속에서, 아무것도 보지 않는 척하는 것도 허용됩니다. Saito의 그림은 밝은 그늘 속에서 존재할 수 있지만, 조용히 그림 속에 잠긴 채 눈에 띄지 않게 남아있는 것들에 관한 것입니다.

[1] Roland Barthes, “저자의 죽음,” 내러티브의 구조 분석 소개에서, 번역: 하나와 히카루, Misuzu Shobo, (1979).
[2] Christian Norberg-Schulz, 천재 장소: 건축의 현상학을 향하여, 번역: 가토 쿠니오와 타자키 유제이, 스마이 도서관 출판사, (1994).
[3] Ignasi Solà de Morales, “Terrain Vague,” 번역: 타나카 준, “어떤 장소”에서, NTT 출판사, (1996): 128-134
[4] Lewis Carrol, Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There, 삽화 및 번역, Esquire Magazine Japan(그림: Jan Švankmajer / 번역: Kumi Satomi)、에스크바이어 매거진 일본、(2006).
[5] Victor Stoichitsa, 그림자의 짧은 역사, 번역: 오카다 아쓰시와 니시다 카네시, Heibonsha, (2008): 80
[6] Victor Stoichitsa, 그림자의 짧은 역사, 번역: 오카다 아쓰시와 니시다 카네시, Heibonsha, (2008): 7

텍스트: Ken Kobayashi
번역: Elizabeth L. Jesse

⚡ AI Translation

Bright Shade

在日常生活中感到自己正在回归真实自我的时刻，习惯于诚实。这是一种感受，类似于你从童年时代几乎遗忘的东西。珍贵却容易丧失，这就是我想在作品中描绘这一点的原因。（斋藤琢美）

　没有适量的水、光照条件和养分，植物无法茁壮成长。光是一个特别重要的必需品，但却难以人工制造。因此，虽然为每种植物找到获得适当阳光的地点至关重要，但对某些植物来说，”明亮的阴处”更为合适。从字面上讲，这必须是既有光又有影的地方，人们不禁想知道这种矛盾的亮度究竟是什么。我试图想象这样的环境，如光线透过蕾丝窗帘的房间，阳光透过树木的地方，或阳光短暂照射的地方，但似乎都不正确，因为实际照度如果测量的话会变化相当大。打开并综合几本园艺书籍，我们发现它显然是被间接阳光微弱照亮的阴处。即使知道这一点，仍然很难从”明亮的阴处”这个短语中掌握清晰的亮度概念。这种模糊性很有趣，仿佛是在说，因为植物必然会因为这种模糊而死亡，我们别无选择，只能依靠从我们的错误中获得的经验。然而，在没有被保证能够控制植物生死的情况下面对这种现实的局面，不知怎么地让人感到不适，仿佛它允许一个扭曲感受的地方存在。

　当我第一次看到斋藤琢美的画作时，我被类似的感受所打动。坦白说，有些尴尬。我对看别人安静的日常生活感到犹豫，但同时，我也感到一种反常的快乐，屈服于他们无法抗拒的奇思妙想。这部作品充满了一种复杂的情感，混合了观看的欲望、渴望、乡愁和钦佩。有一种危险的天真，就像在爱与戏弄之间的模糊边界上不自觉地摇摆的孩子一样。色彩对比度低，排列在温柔的色调中，轮廓圆润而简单。女孩们古朴的表情，仿佛她们什么也没想，可能是因为她们眼睛的简单表达方式，眼睛仅仅是孤独和椭圆形的组合。风格化的绘画表达就像蕾丝一样起到柔和斋藤的偷窥凝视的尴尬的作用。在罗兰·巴特的文本理论《作者之死》[1]中，画家的存在被排除在考虑之外，使观众能够不受干扰地感知作品，更容易分析作品本身。然而，斋藤的作品不允许这样。作者永远不被允许死亡，自我和凝视被揭示。虽然我们可以肯定地说她的眼睛中不包含任何庸俗的情感，但我们不否认她的窥视态度中存在着少量的暴力。越是试图忘记艺术家斋藤，纯粹地看作品中描绘的东西，就越能感到尴尬，仿佛自己即将被同化到弥漫整部作品的微妙危险感中。这是一幅温柔而令人敬畏的画作，缠绕着观众。那么，让我们逐一解开它，首先，让我们驯服这种尴尬。

　斋藤不仅绘画女孩，还画空荡的公园、树木的风景和小玩具。让我们从思考那些作品开始。似乎每个人都忽视或从不关注的地方和东西对斋藤很有吸引力。一瞬间，我产生了一个转瞬即逝的幻觉，认为她可能在描绘超越女孩们模糊凝视的景色，但我否定了这个想法，因为这些景色似乎太尖锐，无法与女孩们的空洞凝视叠加在一起，并且似乎拥有寻求所谓的”地灵” [2]的精神。建筑师伊格纳西·索拉·德·莫莱尔斯(Ignasi Solà de Morales)所描述的”地衣”(Terrain Vague) [3]的概念指的是出现在城市空隙中的空地，即所谓的被遗弃或未被使用的地点。无论一座城市的功能和效率有多高，扭曲肯定会在某个地方出现。 无论城市的功能和效率有多高，扭曲肯定会发生。城市规划是消除这些扭曲或空地的过程。索拉·德·莫莱尔斯将其描述为”殖民地建筑”，这正是它的样子。通过针对”地衣”——被城市这个篡夺者遗弃的休眠地点或被迫逃离的地点——艺术表达揭示了隐藏在城市中的未知事物。斋藤的眼睛也是如此。站在人迹罕至的荒凉公园里的游乐场设备，与没有儿童在游乐场与之互动的情况形成对比，只是让我们想起了曾经应该存在过的喧嚣的缺失。斋藤不问地方为什么被闲置，而是描绘”地衣”中的缺失和空虚的未知——一个无法被填补的地方。基督教·诺伯格-舒尔茨(Christian Norberg-Schulz)所说的”地灵(Genius Loci)”是一种使地点的历史和精神背景化的态度。”地衣”的未知方面是一种情况，其中已磨损的”地灵”只保留了少数几条残迹。在这里，斋藤温柔地捕捉了她从”地灵”中感受到的形象，这是非常微弱的，只有她才能感知。

　未知与模糊。让我们回到女孩的画作。斋藤不是将女孩们描绘成肖像画。她们被描绘成”还没有”成为任何东西的”模糊”存在。这些无处可去的女孩看起来很熟悉。但是她们的眼睛。这些女孩的眼睛里没有光，她们脆弱地暴露着自己无姿态的真实面孔。她们没有意识到自己正在被注视，即使她们的眼睛看向我们，她们也永远不会”看到”我们。对于画中的女孩来说，缺失就是斋藤和我们。我们的凝视不可能与不存在的东西相遇。如果他们不相遇，他们反而会相互反弹吗？《镜中奇遇》[4]的故事从黑猫基蒂和白猫雪滴的对比描写开始。这两只猫的存在从一开始就在读者的意识中留下了深刻印象，作为创造相似但不相同的东西的镜子的角色。基蒂和雪滴分别是一只调皮的黑猫和一只乖巧的小白猫，但在镜子世界中，它们被转变成一位迂腐的红皇后和一位有些无力的白皇后，反转了它们之间的平衡。镜像世界反映了现实的表象，但仍然不同。爱丽丝进入镜子世界的那一刻，她转身向基蒂展示了反射世界，用她的手镜反射了房间中的一切。她进入镜像世界的那一刻，她意识到它与现实不同，她没有感到焦虑，而是感到高兴和兴奋。镜像世界似乎是现实的精确副本，但显然是别的东西。在他的《影子简史》中，维克多·斯托伊基塔讨论了他在普林尼的《博物志》之后的前人如何试图通过影子和镜子来找到绘画的起源。他还介绍了阿尔贝蒂的《绘画理论》中的一段话，其中指出……总是，在你看到的东西的另一侧，都有影子……”[5]。如果影子是由阻挡光线照射物体而产生的，那么影子的对侧总是有光线反射。斯托伊基塔引用阿尔贝蒂对影子在镜子范式的控制下的某种批评，但即使这不是他的意图，光和影之间的这种镜像关系也是暗示性的。 由于凝视是两者之间光的交换，凝视只有在两边面对彼此同样明亮的情况下才能相互回报。如果一盏灯过于明亮，它只会切割和剥夺对象，从这个意义上讲，看的行为变成了暴力。这就是为什么斋藤的画作总是特别白色的。她将自己的凝视保持在光线和云中；指出明亮的阴处。斯托伊基塔在《影子史》[6]的前言中借鉴了黑格尔。光和影在这一点上是一致的：既没有完美的光也没有完美的黑暗可以被感知，只有当它们分别处于被云遮蔽的光和被照亮的黑暗的互惠关系中时，才有可能讨论两者之间的区别。过多的光淹没了一切，黑暗越深，就越吞没一切。人眼所看到的世界在两者之间安静地建立起来。斋藤的画作世界存在于人类被允许的狭窄亮度范围内。如果刺眼的光最终照在它上面，这个场景可能会显得更加刺眼。但那时，斋藤对女孩们的凝视也必须同样强烈，否则她们的身影会被光线淹没。这个亲密的地方不需要强光。即使你无法忍受尴尬，也不要太用力地看这个脆弱而模糊的地方。这是一个安全的、模糊的空间，是社会、财富、政治中间的一个漏洞，以及所有其他由浮夸的成人创造的烦人事件。这是一个允许成为任何人的地方。在暮光中，也允许假装看不到任何东西。斋藤的画作讲述的是被允许存在于明亮阴处中的事物，但被静静地锁在画作中，不被注意。

[1] Roland Barthes，《作者之死》，载于《叙事结构分析导论》，译者：花和光(Hikaru Hanawa)，Misuzu Shobo，(1979)。
[2] Christian Norberg-Schulz，《地灵：建筑现象学走向》，译者：加藤邦夫(Kunio Kato)和田崎裕生(Yuzei Tazaki)，住宅图书馆出版公司，(1994)。
[3] Ignasi Solà de Morales，《地衣》，译者：田中淳(Jun Tanaka)，载于《任意之处》，NTT Publishing Co.，Ltd.，(1996)：128-134
[4] Lewis Carrol，《镜中奇遇》，插画：扬·施瓦茨基迈尔(Jan Švankmajer) / 译：久美里美，Esquire Magazine Japan，(2006)。
[5] Victor Stoichitsa，《影子简史》，译者：冈田敦志(Atsushi Okada)和西田兼士(Kaneshi Nishida)，Heibonsha，(2008)：80
[6] Victor Stoichitsa，《影子简史》，译者：冈田敦志(Atsushi Okada)和西田兼士(Kaneshi Nishida)，Heibonsha，(2008)：7

文本作者：小林健
翻译：Elizabeth L. Jesse

⚡ AI Translation