A group of friends explore a small island that has come to life - a community transformed.
Art at its most poignant & purposeful.
Art at its most poignant & purposeful.
The Sea is Blue Again
‘Okay, everyone strike the album cover pose’, calls Robyn, as she sets the camera timer and runs to join our band of travellers. All eight of us are in the middle of a long stone breakwater that juts perpendicular to the beach into the sea. We are gathered around a large painted sculpture. The air is still, a warm spring morning, blue sky with just a hint of wispy clouds. Gentle waves lap the shoreline and in the distance other small islands, part of what the Japanese call the Seto Inland Sea.
Checking the camera and about to set another shot she says,
‘Hey! The shape of the sculpture mirrors the mountains in the background’.
We all turn and marvel, taking a break from our trying to look cool stances. The sculpture appears as an upturned boat, many sets of legs protrude as if carrying the boat along the breakwater; the tops of the figures are hidden inside the hull. The keel line is undulating, indeed, just like the shape of the distant mountains across the water. Given the position on the exposed breakwater and the tragedy of the 2011 tsunami one comprehends the implication in the title, ‘Walking Ark’, with degrees of both trepidation and sympathy. 1
We are suitably impressed. Our time in what Tim of our group and many others call ‘the art islands’ has been astonishing. Some twelve or so small inhabited islands over roughly a hundred square kilometre area are part of a remarkable effort of social and economic transformation, with culture and its attracted tourism the vehicle for change. From the brink of collapse to healthy growing communities, the aims of the organization behind this initiative are farsighted and commendable.
The 2019 Setouchi Triennale is the fourth such festival that grows bigger and spreads to more islands with every iteration. We, along with a million other expected visitors over the spring, summer and autumn sessions catch ferries to access the various islands, their ports and fishing villages. 2
Today we are on Ogijima, our sixth island of the week. Our very new looking, bright red ferry was sold out, not only Japanese but also many international visitors. Hong Kong, Taiwan, China, and Korea in particular are relatively close. We arrive at the tiny fishing village of Ogicho, population less than 200, tucked into the lee of a tall mountain. Small fishing boats bob protected around the quay that leads to narrow pedestrian only streets, maze like, rising steeply. Homes clustered close together look out over the small port.
We walk along exploring the village, its old weathered exterior full of the patinas from sun, salt, and wind. Maps detail various places of interest scattered throughout the village, many in buildings like old homes, shops and warehouses that for one reason or another have been empty or abandoned. With declining population land and buildings become difficult if not impossible to sell. Over years and decades this has led to demise and ruin, not only of the physical but as well, the fabric of the community. As part of the cultural initiative, artists have been invited to make proposals to create artworks - creative interventions might be a better way to describe the outcomes. The artists start by visiting and engaging with the local people. Issues to do with site, acquisition, ownership, and longevity are managed by an island community association. Visitors contribute by purchasing a passport that gives access to all the venues.
A quiet village in normal circumstances, now there are short waits to see inside some attractions. The ‘Sea Vine’ house was once a small traditional timber home; tatami mat floor with shoji timber and paper sliding walls. Now devoid of furniture and fittings, the house has become a beautiful evocative meditation. Delicate white to pale pink porcelain flowers on long stems appear to float their way through the small interconnected rooms towards you as you sit on the floor. As if blown by the wind, flowers and vines appear to hover horizontally as sea air sweeps over you from a large window open to the water below. 3
Nearby is a very small empty home where the inconsequential objects that might have once been part of daily life, pots, pans, brushes, knives, forks, electric fans, vacuum cleaner, toothbrushes; whether metal or plastic, have been attached to kinetic armatures that whirr slowly around looking like long horizontal or vertical totems. They gyrate noisily and remind us all of the accumulated stuff filling cupboards and understories in our own homes. The tiny spaces and low ceilings uncomfortably filled with the sculptures, a deliberate incongruence, a finger pointing to the excesses of consumption and obsolescence. 4
These coastal port communities are remote by virtue of requiring a sea journey to the mainland, some 30 minutes by ferry. Previous generations were able to prosper by fishing, seaweed production, and small-scale agriculture. The 20thcentury, particularly post World War II, ushered in a push for economic growth. Reckless industrialization of the nearby mainland and other larger islands caused widespread environmental destruction; pollution of air and sea, and vegetation die-back. Fish and octopus stocks were effectively poisoned, seaweed beds wiped out. People themselves suffered adverse health effects. Some islands were used as illegal industrial toxic waste dumps. No wonder that by the end of the century the population had significantly declined as the means to survive was rendered futile.
The art festival’s ideals and values have endeavoured to rejuvenate and transform the different island communities by creating economic stimulus and employment. More than that in fact, contemporary art with an emphasis on mutual respect and openness, has inclusively engaged the communities, seeking to revive and develop the unique qualities of each island. Organizing committees consult widely with the various communities. This underlies the success of these ventures; the local residents have both a say and contribution to make. Artists are often considered based on the potential significance of the community exchange and outcome.
What was once a small abandoned warehouse appears dark on entering, and then as you turn a corner, a gigantic chandelier lights and fills the room. Thousands of small glass bottles hang in clusters each with a tiny light and old photographs sequestered inside. Portraits, weddings, kids playing and family gatherings, the ordinary and everyday are illuminated with privilege. Some bottles have just a single photo, others small photo collections, even keepsakes, and talismans, all gifted from the albums and archives of local residents – their stories and memories. 5
We pass a large mainland school group all in their neat blue uniforms and bright white caps. We had enjoyed their banter and laughs practicing their English on us coming over on the ferry, chatty and friendly young teenagers. They have just visited the artwork at the local elementary school; a work using blue tiles on the exterior of the recently renovated school, a poetic response to the commanding presence of the surrounding sea according to the artist. The irony is not lost on us. Since the start of the Triennale in 2010, the island has had an increasing number of young families relocate to the island; enough to justify having the school and kindergarten reopen after many years of closure. 6
Walking along past stonewalls topped with photo worthy weathered timber and sheet metal, we come across a pop-up coffee house. An enterprising local has turned their living room into a café, serving drinks and a freshly baked red bean cake. In a sense, we have been invited into someone's home and we are graciously welcomed. This is a common attribute across Japan, friendly, polite and very pleased to see you. As we sit cross-legged (or try!) at a low table we chat and browse a selection of books left for our enjoyment. A book on island homes informs us that the blackened appearance of exterior timber, as just witnessed, is actually a technique of charring to prevent timber rotting in the damp sea air.
As we walk further, winding higher and higher through thin passageways, the dominant colours are all earthy, brown, grey, charcoal, rust. By contrast, up ahead we notice what looks like large external abstract paintings. They are in fact timbers salvaged from boats, joined together vertically and attached to the building as a second skin, one that resembles slices of scenery as one might look down to the port and out across the sea to distant islands. 7
As I stop to admire a small backyard vegetable garden I am almost fooled. As a keen vegetable grower myself I look to see what and how; spring onions in a long raised pyramid shape mound of soil, beans and cucumbers climbing up bamboo teepees, green vegetables under netting to keep out white moths. I take my camera out to capture a record when I notice two small very elderly ladies crouching low to the ground, pulling out last summers’ dried plants. Dressed from head to finger and toe for sun protection in odd bits of clothing that just happens to be the same colour as the soil and plants. Perfectly camouflaged. They look up, a little surprised like me. Their faces, the only part of them not covered are lined with many stories. ‘Konichiwa’ I say with a nod. ‘Konichiwa’ they reply.
I just wish I could communicate further with them, to hear their tales of island life, particularly their early years. I’d like to be able to express gratitude for our chance to experience some of their world. How do the local people feel about visitors compromising their privacy? Most times they would know everyone in the village, now there are enough visitors to easily double the population each day. It must register to some as an imposition, although I’ve noted how the organizers do manage numbers be it the size and frequency of ferries or timed entry to some of the well known sites on Naoshima and Teshima islands for example.
I catch up with our group. Russell, mindful of the time, suggests we start to make our way towards the port. Down steep paths and stairs, there is time to venture into one more exhibit. We don't have a clue what might be inside… another darkened space, seemingly minimal with walls made from large tile like sections with a sensuous smooth black surface. Randomly there are small indents that reveal layers going back through colours to white, a subtle progression. Incredibly they are made of lacquer, one of the many centuries old craft practices throughout Japan. A difficult and time consuming process, layer upon layer of lacquer has been built up, then circular incisions carved away to create a ‘stars in the cosmos' effect. Traditional lacquer is less used than in times past so this house is an attempt to champion its contemporary possibilities particularly as it is an eco-responsible product. Occupying part of the artist’s own home in which he was born and raised, he has returned to the island and collaborated with other artists and students to complete the immense work. 8
The magnificent ferry terminal, designed by the artist Jaume Plensa, is our gathering point for the return ferry. A curved circular lace like white roof sits atop a glass walled waiting room. The eaves project out over pools of water. The lace design is actually abstracted shapes made from the letters of different languages; the sun casts shadows down onto the water and walking paths. 9
We sit under its shade, with this cultural diversity projected over us eating fish and rice with chopsticks from plastic dishes, purchased nearby from a local, selling off a fold-up table on the edge of the footpath. We had all been looking forward to this meal as we had passed the lady when we first arrived, firing up her barbecue grill and salting whole snapper fresh from the sea. Delicious it was and well worth the wait!
The question is which was everyone’s favourite work? … The almost unanimous answer is Akinori Matsumoto. A playful installation set in a tiny but beautiful traditional old home, one that captivates architects and carpenters unable to stop looking up at the roof spaces. Large hand-hewn round timbers crisscross the space, joined with dowel and precise mortise and tenon; infill walls are a wattle and daub earthen finish. The home resonates with the histories of those who once lived here.
Matsumoto has constructed small delicate contraptions out of bamboo and paper, some with sails like small windmills. They conceal small motors and in turn move,
rotate or sway, some with sound; strong light sources create shadow plays on the walls. Only two or three people can fit inside at the same time so it is an intimate experience, you are up close as you climb narrow stairs poking your head up and around to view. I sit and watch one that resembles a pan-pipe, thin bamboo cylinders of different lengths rotate slowly, an air supply blows across them producing soft changing tones. 10
On the ferry, the late afternoon sun reflects the jewel like nature of the vast stretch of water and the numerous islands. Jo hands each of us a small container, a local delicacy; ‘seaweed jelly', a subtly sweet treat she found for sale from an unmarked door, down an alley, one of those ‘what are they queuing for?’ irresistible travel moments. The sweetness comes from small amounts of fermented rice.
‘Thanks Jo, Yum!’
There is time to reflect, ‘the art islands’ are such an inspiration. Apart from just sensual and cerebral entertainment, we have seen and learnt so much about the various islands and their small villages. Yes, the art has been impressive, but so too has been the exposure to the cultures of the different islands, their history, food, and hospitality. Something about the experience makes us visitors feel sanguine and valued, that we are a small part of contemporary life making a difference. The potential is writ large for art to continue making such a positive contribution to the islands.
Notes
1 ‘Walking Ark’ by Keisuke Yamaguchi, Japan
2 https://setouchi-artfest.jp/en/
3 ‘Sea Vine’ by Haruki Takahashi, Japan
4 ‘Rotation-Revolution’ by Lin Tianmiao, China
5 ‘Memory Bottle’ by Mayumi Kuri, Japan
6 ‘Dreaming of Blue’ by Regina Silveira, Brazil
7 ‘Wallalley’ by Rikugi Makabe, Japan
8 ‘Maison de Urushi’ by Hayato Otami, Ogijima, Japan
9 ‘Ogijima’s Soul’ by Jaume Plensa, Spain
10 ‘Akinorium’ by Akinori Matsumoto, Japan
Reference
Muller, L. & Miki, A., Editors. ‘INSULAR INSIGHT – Where Art and Architecture Conspire with Nature. Naoshima, Teshima, Inujima. Lars Muller Publishers and Fukutake Foundation. 2011
Scott Avery
2019
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