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Art
in
Japan>Contemporary
Art 1930-2004>Tsukasa Yokozawa: Post Map
Original articles on art,
artists, architecture, exhibitions, galleries, museums and cultural
institutions around Tokyo, Japan.
Tsukasa Yokozawa: Post Map
by John McGee

Tsukasa
Yokozawa, Spilt Milk,
2001, color photograph (Image courtesy the artist)
Scattered lights dot the deep, black nightscape.
From afar, these large
photographs (130cm X 100cm) could pass for minor images from the Hubble
Space Telescope. At arm’s length though, the cohesion slips
and the
“constellations” dissolve into discrete apartment
windows and solitary
streetlights. Tsukasa Yokozawa’s recent nighttime photos of
Kohoku New
Town (a suburban development on the outskirts of Yokohama) explore such
issues as community, isolation and the limits of visual
registration.
The elevated perspective (shot from a nearby hill)
shows nothing like
the promising, vast grid of the Los Angeles basin, which is a network
of electricity,
automobiles and streetlights uniting citizens in a cool, rational plan.
Yokozawa’s night views reveal a growth not a grid--loosely
grouped,
disjointed, organic shapes of different hues (careful processing
preserves the color of tungsten and fluorescent bulbs). Lights
aren’t
systematically placed in this town, they seep into it. The landscape
has disappeared altogether, swallowed in nocturnal blackness and
underexposed film.
In his previous exhibition, “On the
Margin,” Yokozawa
documented a similar edge of legibility in his views of the towns of
Sapporo and Hakodate. Photographed following heavy snowfall from famous
scenic overlooks, these townscapes were mostly white, inverting
the blindness of “post map” with the snow blindness
of a sunny day.
Only the tallest buildings protruded above the whitewash, like dirty
crystals jutting through layers of salt, or remnant structures rising
above the ash of some great destruction.
The artist notes that, in Europe, architecture is
a giant history
lesson, the accretion of time and humanity carved into the surfaces of
the city. Japan has no such tradition. Buildings are primarily boxes
for work or sleep, destroyed and replaced after their 20-year period of
utility. A former motorbike-riding mailman, Yokozawa finds that, in
Japan, history, culture, and architecture are internal: Interiors hold
the secrets, the people and the codes that bind them. He sees his light
constellations (and the people they represent) as positive and
affirming, calling them “small paradises.”
Yet these “post map” lights,
seen too close and intimate to be an anonymous tourist’s
view, speak
more of an insurmountable loneliness set in impenetrable, immeasurable
space. Stars isolated by unfathomable distances only appear to be
connected into Orions and Big Dippers. This illusion too has comforted
for millennia. After the initial wonder though, star gazing always
evokes shudders of incomprehensibility (or religion). Contact is not an
option, the distances are too vast.
Humans, like stars, have a natural affinity for
each other, producing
gravity and drawing each other near. And though the number of stars is
nearly infinite, constellations countless and galaxies teeming, solar
systems and double stars are comparatively rare. Yet, with the optimism
of SETI (Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence--if we wait, maybe
someone will contact us), Yokozawa seems to
trust in some affiliation among unseen parties, some grace in the
ever-present wilderness. Joseph Conrad wrote, “We live as we
dream,
alone.” No doubt Yokozawa sleeps like an alligator--one eye
open--watching for the invisible people who orbit their private suns.
_______________________________________
This exhibition was held Jan 2001 at
Gallery Yamaguchi in
Kyobashi, Tokyo, Japan.
©2006 John McGee
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