Rock is Dead

This time, biscuit gallery will hold a solo exhibition “Rock is Dead” by Nanae Mitobe, from June 24 to July 11, 2021.

The culture of “Rock” has left a brilliant mark in the 20th century as a symbol of energy that breaks through a boring and suffocating world. Rock stars captivated and led young people of their time as spokespersons for the voiceless, anarchists who spat at the era, and revolutionaries who changed the times. However, as times changed, rock became commercialized, and those elevated to stardom were consumed as commodities called “stars,” ideologies became hollow, and only style remained. Amid such admiration and disappointment, the phrase “Rock is Dead” circulated.

Beyond provocative and aggressive musicality, glamorous style, and powerful messages, there is a history of these figures being idolized and consumed as commodities. Rock stars have continued to sing while caught between their idolized selves and their actual selves, carrying contradictions and conflicts. Mitobe has overlapped the image of these era’s idols with the dilemma of consumption and expression—a contradiction that must be faced when living in the world of art—and has continued to create new works. As we enter an age when the limits of capitalism are pointed out, the art market continues to swell. Art that colludes with this situation becomes hollow and deformed. Even if one feels disillusioned with this situation, it is well known that one cannot ignore the logic of capital. Despite fully understanding this, Mitobe has painted over this situation with paint as if to smash it. She painted “Rock Stars” while keeping the words “Art is Dead” in mind.

In this exhibition, we present works depicting 1970s stars such as David Bowie, who became a symbol of the glam rock scene while spanning music, fashion, and film, and The Runaways, a female rock band that shattered conservative images of women through provocative performances. In an era when pop, colorful, and inoffensive interiors devoid of ideology or assertion are making waves in the art market, this is an attempt to overcome painting as a commodity by depicting stars who have lived amid contradictions and conflicts. Rock stars painted in Mitobe’s signature style of ultra-thick paint that ignores efficiency and ease of handling emit a brilliant scent of paint and, wrapped in weight and mass, throw an antithesis at today’s art.

 

Nanae Mitobe《Sexy Rock Alien》2mx2m Oil painting, linen, pigment, wood panel 2021

We have received a contribution from curator Junya Yamamine for this exhibition.

Rock is Dead / An Antithesis as Art Loses Beauty
Junya Yamamine (Curator)

There was something I had decided within myself. It was not to speak about painting.

Having made video and photography my main battleground, I am, in the field of fine art, ultimately a derivative existence, and I thought that painting, which is the mainstream, is sacred ground that I should not venture into. Rather, I may have even taken pride in my uniqueness by taking a position as a counterpart to the mainstream by doing so. Or it may be a manifestation of inferiority stemming from having had the reality vividly demonstrated to me while living in this world—that all systems surrounding art are formed around painting as the axis. At any rate, it is certain that I have avoided directly confronting the existence of painting. I encountered the painter Nanae Mitobe during such a period.

The work by Mitobe that I first saw at Musée Hamaguchiyo Zo exuded an extraordinary presence that transcended the domain of painting through sheer quantity, something that could not be grasped iconographically. Rather, it was closer to sculpture in its volume than painting. Yet Mitobe stubbornly called it painting. In contrast to the impression of Mitobe herself—taciturn and endearing—it was a thorough painting supremacism. And stubborn. Her obsession and the strange pressure emanating from her works burned into my mind, yet I thought they were incompatible with my world of contextualism, which manipulates the viewer’s impressions through the image language and its rhetoric. However, I now believe that it was an overwhelming jealousy toward aura that sprouted within me as I struggled amid the art of an age of mechanical reproduction without aura. And thus, the blocking of it. I think that is what it was in hindsight. Yet Mitobe too was struggling within contemporary art, which has forgotten the trust in aura and made rhetoric that skillfully merges context into the supreme ideal. However, her one and only weapon is none other than presenting the force of “painting being there” through overwhelming quantity, the scent of oil paint, and its presence. Absurdly single-minded and clumsy. Yet as she pursued this relentlessly, I came to realize that therein lies the essence and charm of Nanae Mitobe as a painter.

For some reason, Mitobe frequently attended talks and events I held, despite being on the completely opposite end of the spectrum, and listened intently. Following that, I was asked for advice. Being someone who had few opportunities to comment on painting, I must have been quite perplexed. So I managed to say something along the lines of: no matter how wonderful the work itself may be, in an era where information such as text and images advance ahead, it is necessary to create visually legible iconography in linguistic terms, narratives surrounding the work, and points of contact for connecting with existing contexts. I probably spoke such superficial orthodoxy. But when I saw her body of works again at Mitobe’s atelier, I was humbled by works constructed with values entirely different from the grammar I knew. The presence emanated by the layers of paint accumulated through dialogue with figures to whom Mitobe herself was drawn—such as Michael Jackson and David Bowie—speaks more eloquently than words. For someone like me who has tried to grasp art conceptually, logically, and head-on, it was shocking, and I encountered once again a fundamental aspect of art itself.

The subject that Mitobe chose for this exhibition, having given me such sensations, is “Rock is Dead.” It is probably because she wanted to cry out “Art is Dead,” overlapping her own voice with rock stars who shone in the era through resistance against time and the brilliance born from its friction and collision. I understand that feeling painfully well. Mitobe, who said she saw painting shine when she saw Van Gogh’s “Sunflowers,” must have come to see this world, into which works that cater to the market and aim for frivolity and superficiality have flowed in as “Art,” as no longer shining. I sympathize with that. Though what Mitobe and I have found beautiful differs, I cannot bear to see brilliant art pushed aside while things that merely trace style and form behave as if they were the mainstream. For me, a work is beautiful because the maker’s earnest cry is embedded within it. Art becomes art through the work itself and the maker’s cry overlapping and resonating with each other. If that is being lost, then art equals the end that form-hollowed rock has met.

Once, we called beautiful things art. But in recent times, things that do not seem so are also called art. And Mitobe’s antithesis, wishing to break through this, is embedded in her works. Those that merely follow superficial technique or style are media-friendly, easy to handle, and easy to commercialize. Economic principles follow, and the power that supports such things grows. But the more this happens, the more those who were fascinated by the essential, diverse, profound, and sometimes anxiety and fear-inducing power that art has cultivated become unable to speak. We are now entering precisely such an age. But I want to believe that beauty is born from the struggles of those who wish to maintain their expression even in such times. And it is in works produced from there that I want to place a thread of hope for breaking the status quo. The existence wrapped in the brilliance born from such struggle is what can be a true artist. Mitobe has walked the path toward that. And I have a strong intuition that she is now opening a door to step into a new phase. Because the thickness of Mitobe’s works contains her earnest cry.

Exhibition view | 1st floor
Exhibition view | 2nd floor
Exhibition view | 3rd floor

Nanae Mitobe Artist Statement

I heard about DAVID BOWIE’s death in 2016, and the following year I went to see his major retrospective exhibition held in Japan. It was a very exciting exhibition, but the David Bowie in me was perfectly beautiful, and I could not paint him. Then a few years passed in an instant, and there was a major shift in the Japanese art scene, which also influenced the artistic philosophy I had believed in. Amid doubts about beauty, his strong message of “I am an alien!” transcended beauty, and it was his unique existence that saved me.

 

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