Yoshitomo Nara was born in Hirosaki, Japan. Over his three-decade long career, Nara has been featured at small, independent art spaces as well as galleries and museums across the globe. His works result from his process of connecting with various materials, and exploring his own state of mind. The artist’s recent show, which inaugurated Pace Gallery’s new space at H Queens, Hong Kong, comprised a display of 12 ceramic works from 2018 depicting Nara’s well-known child faces. Yet, there is something new: Nara, in conversation with ArtAsiaPacific, stated that “their expressions are less angry and more conscious and reflective,” in part due to the inspiration of traditional Japanese Noh masks.
Nara sat down with AAP to discuss his experience in Shigaraki, Japan, where the ceramics were made, the traditions that they reference, and how his practice has evolved over time.
How does a typical day in the studio begin for you?
Every day is different. I don’t go to an office so I don’t need to worry about working. It’s just like summer or Christmas holiday for me all the time—that’s how I live.
You mentioned that ceramics as a medium is between drawing and painting for you, in the sense that the outcome is both spontaneous and controlled; what in the works here were unexpected? What was intended?
I guess the uncontrollable part is that you put it in a kiln, where it’s subject to heat and where you cannot control anything. Even when it comes to painting or drawing with a pencil, I don’t have absolute control—there is always some uncontrollable aspect.
The subtle colors and hues of the ceramic sculpture Anymore for Anymore (2018) are mesmerizing. Did the colors come out as you envisioned?
I intended for this piece to be more greenish in color, but when I opened the kiln it turned out to have these shades of earthy gold. I don’t think about it as a failure, it’s more like a gift.
You mentioned that you picked up ceramics ten years ago and that it “was one if the most significant moments of your artistic life.” How has your relationship with this material changed in the past decade?
Initially I just wanted to see how it would go. I was just doing it for fun. After five years, I started realizing that my fingers were the ones actually doing the thinking. Just like a caterpillar walking on a leaf, trying to make a path one step at a time, touching clay for me is like finding my own path. I realized that the path leads to my head as the material’s textures and my gestures are directly connected to my thoughts. It’s a similar situation when I make my paintings: I paint, I erase, and put something over it. I do the same with clay, although it’s a much more direct process than painting.
The ceramics are produced in Shigaraki, Japan. Why did you choose to produce your works there? What has your experience there been like?
There is a facility there managed by the local government for artists who want to engage with ceramic works. I learned a lot from the older artists who are used to a more traditional approach to the material, and in that environment I was able to learn a lot as a beginner. By sharing the same space, they taught me so much about the history of ceramics. At the same time, they don’t know much about the contemporary art scene and market, so I shared my insights into these topics with them as quid pro quo.
Ahurumpar (2018), one of the works on display at Pace Gallery, is inspired by a folktale of the Ainu tribes in the northern part of Japan. Could you tell us more?
Many Japanese people don’t know about the Ainu tribe and culture. I come from the northern part of Japan and have friends who are descended from Ainu origins, which can be tracked back to indigenous people living in Hokkaido. I can’t start talking about this or I will never stop… However, I feel I started to concentrate on this theme because I am on an inward journey, and want to explore where I come from. I wanted to know more about the place I was born. I felt a sort of empathy and kinship with this tribe.
Do you find yourself influenced by Western art? I know you have a particular interest in Renaissance art, could you tell us more about this engagement?
It’s not limited to Renaissance art. I’m keen about anything, from Renaissance to Modern art. I’m attracted to pre-contemporary art because I think artists back then didn’t really think about the market or exhibitions; they just enjoyed painting as a process.
You describe painting as a burden with the weight of an important mission. What’s the purpose of the mission? Do you think that the result of your canvases would be the same if you’d lift that weight from yourself? Is the suffering during the making part of the process?
Yes, struggling is a part of the painting process. It was the same back when I was a student and I’m still struggling to the same degree. My current struggles are much more sophisticated, for better or worse, but every time I paint I try to engage in a conversation with myself and try to figure out what to do with the work. This is why I feel there is this similarity between artists from the past and myself, as, nowadays, artists change their styles rapidly. In my case, I want to spend long periods of time looking at the same thing.
Your works embody your artistic consciousness, which is affected by everyday events. What matters have been on your mind lately?
For the last five years, I’ve been attempting to become more like a Modern artist—when it comes to painting and sculpture, I want to experience the whole process of making art more thoroughly. My works today are quite different from previous projects. In the past, the children had angry expressions, and were emotionally more straightforward and explicit. Now, I’m trying to delve into different mediums in more depth. We’ll never know what will happen to my style five years from now.
Sophie von Wunster is an editorial intern at ArtAsiaPacific.
Yoshitomo Nara’s “Ceramic Works and…” is on view at Pace Gallery Hong Kong until May 12, 2018.
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