I’ve always thought artists are somewhat of rebels. We strive to see through seemingly mundane mechanisms of everyday life and come out with a special something that affirms the depth and width of our true condition that goes far beyond the framework forced on us by the establishment.
We stay in our studios and we train ourselves to see how to connect dots and how to grasp the profound flows that lead to a burst of visual language.
Yesterday was the 200th birthday of Karl Marx. He taught us how our society, guided by accumulation of wealth and power, domesticates people in order to harvest humanity as profit. His angle has given us crucial tools to understand our time. Needless to say, as we shift our eyes to outside of our studios, we notice glaring contradictions smoothed out by acrobatic rituals, fear and outright deceptions in culture, economy, politics and so on.
Yesterday, I was in Boston. I stopped at Museum of Fine Arts. Among the mesmerizing exhibits the most stood out was one of Martin Puryear’s pieces. I’ve always liked his work. He has exceptional eyes to focus on that something that speaks to our essential beings in such a profound way.
With the particular piece, I noticed how casual, raw and wild the mode of expression was. There was a playfulness in how he worked with dynamics among elements–the harmony among wood stains, small whimsical wood parts, seemingly random patches of wire meshed surface, chalk markings on wood and so on gave it an unassuming front, but the essential insight was unmistakably expressed as a solid life emanating from the assembly.
When I tried to leave and looked back at the piece, I was struck how transparent the mesh surface was. I could see through to the room behind it. Yet, the ellusiveness and frankness of the expression cleverly emphasized the profoundness of the life with its elusiveness.
A work like that certainly gives us courage to keep going.
I've always thought artists are somewhat of rebels. We strive to see through seemingly mundane mechanisms of everyday life and come out with a special something that affirms the depth and width of our true condition that goes far beyond the framework forced on us by the establishment. We stay in our studios and we train ourselves to see how to connect dots and how to grasp the profound flows that lead to a burst of visual language. Yesterday was the 200th birthday of Karl Marx. He taught us how our society, guided by accumulation of wealth and power, domesticates people in order to harvest humanity as profit. His angle has given us crucial tools to understand our time. Needless to say, as we shift our eyes to outside of our studios, we notice glaring contradictions smoothed out by acrobatic rituals, fear and outright deceptions in culture, economy, politics and so on.Yesterday, I was in Boston. I stopped at Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Among the mesmerizing exhibits the most stood out was one of Martin Puryear's pieces. I've always liked his work. He has exceptional eyes to focus on that something that speaks to our essential beings in such a profound way. With the particular piece, I noticed how casual, raw and wild the mode of expression was. There was a playfulness in how he worked with dynamics among elements–the harmony among wood stains, small whimsical wood parts, seemingly random patches of wire meshed surface, chalk markings on wood and so on gave it an unassuming front, but the essential insight was unmistakably expressed as a solid life emanating from the assembly. When I tried to leave and looked back at the piece, I was struck how transparent the mesh surface was. I could see through to the room behind it. Yet, the ellusiveness and frankness of the expression cleverly emphasized the profoundness of the life with its elusiveness.A work like that certainly gives us courage to keep going.
Posted by Hiroyuki Hamada Art on Sunday, May 6, 2018
In News on
Last year I was interviewed by a German company Liganova which is starting an art collection. They have published a couple of publications based on the interview: One for their newsletter and one for their newly launched Ligastudios.
Here is the original interview unedited with extra pictures.
Photo by Richard Foulser
– tell us about your life in Japan
I always liked making things when I was a kid. But I didn’t grow up in a family where that sort of stuff can be your job. My dad worked in Tokyo and commuted from our suberban house 1 1/2 hours away. I grew up to be a typical teenager: angry, feeling alienated for mostly immature reasons. Then my family had to move to the US for my dad’s job (I was 18 then). I got to be a minority in the US (we moved to a little town Wheeling, West Virginia) and I had to struggle to communicate . It was traumatic but also pretty funny if I look back now… I think every teenager should go though that. I think that set me up for pursuing art. I learned some English and I decided to go to a local community college where I met a teacher who showed me what you can do with art. He showed me that putting together lines, colors and etc. on a piece of paper can be like making music or writing stories. I was very naive, ha ha. And he was very good. I was good with my hands but I never knew how to put things together to make it really speak; I never knew that you could put words in between the lines and make it all deep and profound visually, you know? And I totally got hooked. After that I was basically stuck in studio drawing, painting and etc…
Why New York? What did you think New York would give you that Japan didn’t at that time?
I moved around quite a bit before I came to the NY area. In the US, there is this great thing called “artist residency”. You tell them that you are an artist and if they like what you do, they’d let you stay and give you a studio. Some places even pay you to be there. I even met my wife at one of those places. So, after I got my MFA, I was basically half homeless moving around those places. Can’t imagine how I did it now but I didn’t really care much except for what was going on in my studio (my wife would tell you that I still don’t ha ha). And after a while, I wanted to really show my work. And naturally NYC was the place to go. Back then (It was around 1997 or so) and probably now too, the numbers of venues you can show and artists population in NYC area were just staggering compared to other places. If you go to one of those residencies, you’d be amazed to see how many of the artists you meet would be from NYC. But today I wouldn’t care too much about where I work. The work comes first definitely.
How did the NY art scene meet a young Hiroyuki?
– were you already having pieces as you came to NYC (you were 18, right?)
Coming to NYC, well, actually it wasn’t NYC. After a couple of weeks looking for a cheap place which doesn’t exist in NYC, I settled with a good sized space across the river in NJ. It was one of the sweat shop buildings in a big Cuban community. So it wasn’t really NJ either; it was Cuba. It can be seedy but it was mostly mellow and warm. I heard more Spanish than English. I remember the first taste of chicaron (what a concept, deep frying a chunky pork belly) and good cuban coffee. Have you had Cuban sandwich? The crispy bread outside and exquisite mixture of melting cheese, rich fat pork and the great accent with the pickles? Anyway, as soon as I got there I sent out slides with nice cover letters to galleries that I found to be good. I think I sent a couple of dozen. And they all came right back saying basically get lost, ha ha ha. The only place that was willing to show my work then was OK Harris Works of Art. I heard Ivan Karp would look at your work. So I went. I showed him slides and he said he would do a show with the first look. I wasn’t sure what he meant so I tried to show him the painting I brought, too. Then his son, Ethan, said “No, you don’t have to, he’s giving you a show . That’s good. He doesn’t even have to see it.” I still remember that well. They did my first solo show in NYC.
Do you have a favourite show-space in NYC where you often go?
Well, I’d love to say this museum or that gallery but every time I have extra time in the city, I just end up walking around watching people, looking at interesting ads, graffitis or buildings… NYC is just amazing visually in general.
When did you have your first exhibition and knew you are really getting into the spotlight?
Hmm… I don’t think I’ve felt that before… It’s really about myself and the work when it comes to shows. I am an audience too and there is nothing else better than to feel the impact of everything in the show working together to move you, and to see it happening as you place the work and do the lighting. I totally feel the spot light then, but it’s on the work, not on me.
Have you ever played with the idea of opening your very own gallery? How do you choose where to show your work?
I guess these questions are sort of like the front and the back of a same coin… I would want to open a place where I would want to show myself too but then I’d realize how tough it is to do it well. You have to have a space that maximizes the experience. You would want to treat the artists well and be capable in doing the right things. And what do you do with the expense that can be enormous? It’s easy to see that finding good places to show can be hard… So when I try to think about where to show I really can’t plan and wish for exactly what I want. It’s more like depending on my gut feeling and going with the venues that make me feel like I’m doing good to people who like the work. That often works for me. And I also don’t underestimate the people who try hard to make the show great. There often are happy surprises.
What does your art reflect the most? (you, your vision of the world, the world itself)
I think everything counts really. But one thing that’s really sure is that I get motivated to go to the studio by what’s happening in my studio, and working there gives me more ideas and directions. So it’s like exploring what’s possible visually with what I do in my studio. As I learn, I get these layers of ways to deal with visual narratives and new vocabularies also develop, and as I keep going, I come out with more ways to see things differently.
From what I know, you have started with drawing – how and why did you do this shift to sculpture?
I think I wanted the experience to be more articulate and immediate. I do still like the suggestive, gestural quality of drawings I used to do but it’s also so gratifying, so mysterious and so strong to grasp those qualities as much as I can and tell it in 3D with every detail. How it actually happened was that, first, I picked up on the object like quality of drawings. It’s like seeing them as they are with their distinct presence with every imperfection as theirs, instead of seeing them as a picture of something that is supposed to be dipicted. I think a big part of modern/contemporary art has to do with this realization and appreciation of taking visual experiences as they are. In a way it’s sort of primitive compared to, say, like music. That led to paintings with textures and irregular edges. Then, they started to grow off the wall. At some point they were more like sculptures.
Photo by Evan Harris
Do you listen to music when you are working or perfer it to be in quiet?
Sometimes I do. I think the music can shift my mood to get things going. Or the rhythm can be nice to keep the physical work going. But there are moments I have to keep it totally quiet. My guess is that certain processes need certain brian activity and sometimes music interferes with that… But I do love music.
If you happen to put on tracks while you are working, which artists, bands, etc. do you listen to?
Oh, that could be anything really. Lately, I’ve been really liking this band from the 70s called Popol Vuh. It sounds sort of familiar but it also sounds totally out of this world. The mellow speed and the atmosphere seem to work for the pieces I’m working on. I grew up listening to lots of aggressive band music and I still have a soft spot for it. For example, someone posted at Facebook the other day this band called Up Front, and I’ve been enjoying listening: it sounds sort of like Minorthreat, a lot of energy and there is a pleasant innocence about it. I’ve been listening to lots of classical music for the past years also. The level of development in non-descriptive expression in the field is just amazing. It’s such an inspiration and encouragement for working in the visual field. Ah, I can just keep going about music…
I am so sorry, I know artists hate this question, but I simply HAVE TO ask this:
where do you take your inspiration from – nature, art, architecture?
I think anything can be inspiration if you are talking about how I get motivated to work: Anything that got put together well to have a cohesive whole that functions more than its parts. Like, you wake up and go outside and suddenly feel like the way the sun hits your face just explains everything about why you still want to be alive. You feel so fulfilled and happy. It’s just the same old sun and same old self in the morning but somehow the combination means something to you… And that can be a good inspiration. But like I said, it’s mostly the developments in my studio that inspire me to go further.
Do you take decisions on the materials you will work with before you start with a piece or doese the piece itself tell you what materials to use?
My work grew out of paintings so the idea of materials dictating the pieces is sort of new. I always thought it’s natural to paint every bit of surface to make sure it goes with the form. So far I’ve been mostly using plaster shells on foam/wood structures to paint on for all practical reasons (cost, ease of use and so on…). For a long time, I didn’t understand sculptors talking about materials with almost religious intensity. I mean, why would you expect a surface which is hardly uniform or predictable to do what it is supposed to do? Now I understand the seductiveness of the materials and the convenience and the thrill of counting on happy surprises and so on but I still like the flexibility and the super real presence which a meticulous paint job can present. So if you see different materials in my work, they are most likely painted or stained that way.
A stained plaster piece looking unlike plaster. #68, 2007-09, 41 x 23 x 20 1/2 inches, enamel, oil, plster, tar and wax
Do you as an artist have a favourite artist?
please give some examples of artists you like from different epoches, different styles, etc.
Hmm… That’s tough… I’ve got my own interest in process and direction and I look at my work with that all the time so my capability of appreciation is somewhat skewed I’m afraid. Also, when I started out, I meticulously tried to avoid doing what other people were doing. I was sort of afraid of getting influences I guess. Also, I have a rather more standoffish relationship with visual art than, say, with music. I would be often totally taken by music, almost getting drowned with the pleasure. But when I look at visual stuffs, I’m often more objective in general. More interested in seeing alternate ways and investigating than consuming it for pleasure perhaps… I think it’s only in the past a few years that I’m becoming more open to seeing and enjoying as I feel more grip on my own work. But I’ve always enjoyed Martin Puryear’s work. I like the forms he works with. The way the work relates to you in the space is also nice: And the subtle playfulness he puts. I also like Anish Kapoor’s work. I saw his Bean piece in Chicago a few years ago, and it was so encouraging and happy to see people totally being fascinated with it. I mean, I saw people literally dancing around it and having fun being with it. And I also enjoy lots of figurative works. That’s what I started out with myself (I used to love doing figure drawing). I think Basquiat is just a marvelous painter. The sense of color, the way he composes in such striking ways, the confidence in lines with such fragile subtlety and doing all that with such spontanaity is just amazing. I see many others that I enjoy online, people like Kris Kuksi, Ron van der Ende, Eddie Martinez, Christina Bothwell, Blu, Jen Stark, Karim Hamid, just off my head randomly…, and many more I guess… I just had fun seeing the Nick Cave show in NYC. When I was in school, I looked at artists like Jesper Johns, Rauschenberg, Kiki Smith, Eva Hesse, Tapies, Louis Bourgeois, and so on. But they all came in through other students’ works that sort of emulated them. It’s interesting to learn that way. You see what the essential qualities are for the students and you experience the first hand account of dealing with the materials…
You don’t give titels to your work – why?
I’m really interested in what I get by combining visible things, and I don’t want to make it about stories, references, symbols and such, at least not on the conscious level. I mean, I want the visual language to hit your guts hard, not the theories, anecdotes, or background stories sort of making you feel something in wishy washy ways. And also I don’t want to limit the work inside of my narrow cultural and social constraints. So I figured the easiest thing I can do to put the focus on the substance is not to work with those things. If they creep in, I just try to stay away from them. It’s very inefficient but it’s very effective when it works. I think I can get to the bottom of what we are that way. So not giving them descriptive names is a way to make sure that it doesn’t imply things aside from what the forms are doing. But it’s probably something to do with my laziness too. I know that you could come up with titles that can enhance what I’m trying to do… So oh well…
Where do you take your friends to when they are coming to visit you in New York?
I don’t know… I’ll ask my Facebook friends, ha ha ha. I don’t get to eat nice exotic stuffs out in Eastern Long Island where I live, so I might try to convince them to go for nice Vietnamese, Thai, Korean, Indian or Chinese… If you are talking about food that is. I used to like walking around in Chinatown looking at fish, veggies thinking about cooking. Nice sushi would be good too. If there are good shows, gallery hopping in Chelsea is also nice. But like I said, what I like to do there is just taking a walk looking at things, people, buildings and etc. I always see interesting things in NYC…
How do you relax? What do you do in your free time?
I go to my studio ha ha ha. I can always work on something… I have an electric guitar set up and I have fun with that sometimes. It’s a nice thing to bounce on when I feel like I am stuck with my work. Or when I just have the urge. I think I have some sort of addiction to loud, distorted guitar sound… I also keep sketch books everywhere and I like to draw shapes and things when I have time. Also, my wife and I watch TV shows sometimes. We’ve been enjoying “Breaking Bad” lately. What a fabulous show.
What do you get to read MAGAZINES or BOOKS more often? Which are your favourite magazines?
I haven’t read any magazines for a long while… At least not the actual paper versions. I really depend on internet for news and articles now. I used to read lots of books too and I aways had a big pile next to my bed, but not much reading lately. It’s just that the time is limited since we got two small kids. But I’ve read a couple of Malcom Gladwell’s books recently and I really liked them.
Which 2-3 names in the fashion industry from former era do you see as iconic?
Hmm…you got me. What can I say. I’m the kind of guy who shows up at my own opening in a Dickies jump suit making my wife’s eyes roll with dismay…
Photo by Evan Harris
Who are the most influential names in art today?
Not the individuals, but I think TV shows and movies totally rule on that. And in terms of the impact and the quality too perhaps. I don’t get to watch many but some shows I’ve watched are just amazing: Like Breaking Bad, Wire, Sopranos, or some episodes from Battlestar Galactica, for examples. You get great writing, camera work, acting, set design, music, sound effects, visual effects and on and on. I just think the total experience from them is the culmination of art history on the planet. Have you watched District 9? Just amazing.
Which of them has left an imprint on your style (if at all)?
Well, things get in me and I must express something in my work, but like I said, I don’t make my work about anything specific so that’s something I can’t really answer…
What are you working on right now?
Right now I have 4 pieces in progress. They seem to be freer into space and they speak a bit more as shapes. I’ll see how the surface gets treated. I started out as a painter so working with the surface is a very special and fun process for me. I’ve been also trying a few resin materials instead of plaster since the pieces are a bit bigger and more complex.