This space consists of hundreds of thousands of paper strings and has a soft feel. Holes are opened on the seven pillars that express a forest. When you put your face into the hole, you will be surrounded by the fragrance and sound that reproduce nature on here Iwadeyama.

1958 Born in Osaka

For the last several years, my works have been based on the concept of creation through daily life. All aspects of time, materials, and the place of creation coexist with daily life. When I started on this work, I could not spare a certain length of time. Therefore, I had to find out a unit of work that could be completed in seconds. The work had to be started and ended anytime, anywhere, without calling for any special place. I also looked for materials that were no longer required in daily life, that could be acquired without any special efforts, and that did not call for special trouble to purchase. I was preoccupied by daily chores and errands and with homemaking tasks emerging one after another if I intended to do. Under those circumstances, I wanted to confirm my presence a little, instead of simply getting carried away. I polished rice and cleaned my home every day, which appeared the same and done by the same person every day, but were actually never the same. When I finally could find certain time, the simple repeated work in a short unit of time had become a pleasant activity for me. I also noticed that, when everyday materials that used to pass in front of me changed their forms in my hands, that simple activity brought an unknown joy to me. This may be the religious, ritual, or ecstatic feeling brought by the repetition of a simple activity. It is not the power of a single piece nor the dynamism of the aggregated pieces. It does not seem to be the joy of my "ego," either. It has become such a mysterious activity. As a Buddhist term Koke (unsubstantial) suggests, the paper piece in my hands can be regarded as a tip of this ever-changing world. The paper strings have completed their certain roles and have come into contact with me in the middle of their ever-changing course. The speed or direction of change may vary from time to time. Still, my hands actually feel their changes. Of course, the changes that occur in our daily life are more dynamic than those of paper. The unsubstantial activity of twisting changes in the midst of changes somehow feels like taking off ornaments and clothes to make myself naked. I feel as if the activity is also being performed inside myself, while supporting myself with warmth even in the midst of severe changes that resemble a cold wind. I have heard a Zen phrase wondering what is lacking after being born naked. It is strange that my activity even gives me such a feeling. I would be extremely happy if my work helps you feel the strength of fragile things, tranquility among dynamism, stability in the midst of changes, and the substance behind an unsubstantial state.

 

→Fragrance direction for the Kankaku Museum/Toshifumi Yoshitake