Tujiko Noriko is constantly opening new doors. Some might think this is an overstatement, but the more I listen to Crépuscule I & II, the first solo album she released in three years and nine months, the stronger my conviction becomes. It’s clear that this album is an extension of her previous instrumental work, Kuro, an illustration of the fluctuation of emotions. But with the addition of her vocals, saxophone, and euphonium, she paints a gentle and cinematic soundscape on Crépuscule I & II. The continuum of sounds drifting freely, which could be described as ethereal ambient music, contains an unprecedented degree of human warmth. 22 years have passed since the release of Toshi Shojo in 2001; what lies behind Tujiko Noriko continuing to make music? We were able to talk to her in France via ZOOM.

Looking back on Tujiko Noriko’s previous instrumental album and roots as a singer

–You released Crépuscule I & II on Editions Mego. Your last release on the label was My Ghost Comes Back. When did you start working on your latest album? 

I started recording my vocals around the end of 2019 and finished it in a week or so. I then arranged the music in 2020, and it was basically complete by the beginning of 2021. I intended to mix the album immediately, but some time had passed. Before summer, I sent it to Peter (Rehberg, the founder of Editions Mego), but he passed away suddenly…

–I want to ask you something before discussing Crépuscule I & II. This is your first solo album since the eponymous soundtrack to the film Kuro (2019), which you co-directed with Joji Koyama-san, but you didn’t always make instrumental music. In hindsight, what do you think was good about the album?

It’s surprising that I had almost never made an instrumental piece of work. I was making a film called Kuro then, and my co-director, Joji Koyama-kun, said, “Why don’t you make the music for it too?” I thought it might be overkill for me to write, make, edit, and score the film, but he said it nicely, so I said, “I’ll do it.” When it came time to make the soundtrack, I wasn’t in the mood to sing because the film already had a lot of narration. There was no need for me to come up with a story for the music, so I was like, “I’m just going to follow the film’s story.” I was able to make it with abandon and freedom, and felt relieved because I didn’t have to sing. 

–Are there any film scores or artists who make them you find interesting?

Mica Levi and I come from the same era, and what she does interests me. 

–I had always believed one of the elements that made your music special was your singing, so your instrumental album came as a surprise. What sort of mindset has made you become the singer you are today?

I always have this story or image inside my mind, and I want to translate that into lyrics and sing it. I like small worldbuilding, like telling anecdotes, so I enjoy singing or adding music to depict it. I don’t have a message or anything. It’s not a coincidence that I also make films—I love things with stories. 

–What initially drew you to singing? 

When I was small, we had a cassette deck where you could listen and record sounds. It fascinated me, and my oldest sister and I would record our voices and songs. That was fun. My middle sister complimented me, saying that I was good at singing, which struck a chord with me. I started to feel like singing was fun because of that. 

Crépuscule I & II, made from the idea of hope

–I’d like to ask you about Crépuscule I & II. What was the blueprint for it? 

I made the soundtrack for a film called Surge (SURGE ORIGINAL SOUNDTRACK, released in 2022), and the film was so sad. I had to make music that would fit that, but as I did, I started having more and more fun. I would play sounds that were a bit more sparkly and cheerful, but I knew I couldn’t use them for the film. I had this image of something pretty and optimistic—the word, hope, popped up in my mind.

–How did you write the songs? 

I arranged them a lot, but most of the songs initially started as improvisations. How it sounds to others is a different matter, but I like doing it. I’m shy, but I’m set free whenever I improvise. It’s like I begin feeling unrestrained as I explore things I find beautiful. I listen to the same song over and over again when I arrange my music so I can convey that beautiful moment to the listener. Music is a tool of communication, so I find myself subconsciously looking for a universal place to share with many people. 

–There are some ambient moments in the album. 

I was simultaneously working on a film score, so my approach was to make music that leaned into images. That’s what comes across as ambient-sounding. I like ambient music, but it’s not made with structure at the forefront. 

—Crépuscule I & II is in two parts. Was this intentional?

It was supposed to be three. But when I got Joji Koyama-kun, my dear friend, to listen to it, he said, “Some parts are similar, and it’s a bit too long, no?” (laughs). I tend to add onto things, but Joji-kun helped me reel it in. 

–Joji Koyama-san wrote the lyrics for “Roaming Over Land, Sea and Air.”What idea was this song based on? 

I don’t remember when I made that song, but I used some of the melody from the first song off Shojo Toshi (“Endless End”). This song is like the sibling of “Opening Night” in part one.

Thoughts and feelings that haven’t changed since her debut, and lessons from Peter Rehberg  

–I actually feel like Shojo Toshi and Crépuscule I & II are connected, even if it may not look like it.

You might be right. The equipment, studio, and whatnot differ, but I can’t help being drawn to certain sounds. Yes, I make electronic music, but I like organic sounds that blend into your skin rather than loud ones. Music is always somewhere, and I find and give form to it. 

–It’s been over two decades since your debut. Do you feel as though you’ve changed as a musician? 

It doesn’t feel like I’ve been doing it for a long time. I always feel like I’m a baby. It’s not like I’m stopping myself from growing up; it’s just that I can do so much more. I never run out of ideas and am ready to put out more songs. But I also want to make sure my personal life is okay, too.

–Last question. I heard you decided to release Crépuscule I & II on cassette because you previously sent Peter Rehberg a demo tape. What did you learn from his music as well as working with him? How are the lessons reflected in your life? 

He wasn’t much of a talker. It’s not that he said anything to make me think this, but I felt a warmth from him, one that said I could be free and be myself. That very warmth and attitude encouraged different musicians as well. I also believe the listener could tell, too. He made me feel comfortable doing what I wanted, but that didn’t mean he spoiled me. Also, there’s a slight humor to his music, which made me realize that music with humor that doesn’t fit in a box is important. If it’s just pretty, it’d be boring. I mean, he did have a punk spirit, after all. 

■Tujiko Noriko Japan Tour 2024

・Kyoto
Date: January 9th, 2024 (Tuesday)
Venue: Soto
Venue website: https://soto-kyoto.jp

・Tokyo
Date: January 11th, 2024 (Thursday)
Venue: WWW
Venue website: https://www-shibuya.jp/schedule/017371.php
*The Tokyo show will have live visuals by Berlin-based filmmaker Joji Koyama

・Fukuoka
Date: January 13th, 2024 (Saturday)
Venue: Artist Cafe
Venue website: https://artistcafe.jp

The post The Present and Eternal Sentiment of Tujiko Noriko, an Artist of Otherworldy Sounds appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

YAMAN NKYMN
YAMAN NKYMN is a maestro strategist and contemporary artist based in Los Angeles and Kyoto, Japan. He studied at Kobe University, Japan, graduating in chemistry in 1999. He began his career as a marketing strategist, working globally for leading fashion houses such as Louis Vuitton, Chanel, and Gucci.
In 2019, he worked on the animation movie “Shin Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time” as the strategic director, establishing the company “YamAnno” with the film director Hideaki Anno for the movie. The film surpassed 10 billion yen in box office revenue, approximately double that of the previous film in the series.
He began his career as a contemporary artist in 2021 with the exhibition “陸奥の 安達原の黒塚に 鬼籠もれりと言うはまことか (UN)KEEPALL” at the Japanese National Treasure, Hiunkaku in Nishi Hongwanji Temple. The following year,
the work was invited to the art fair, Frieze Week Los Angeles and premiered at the Chateau Marmont in West Hollywood, his global debut, just one year after his first exhibition.
Back in 2012 his work evolved, adapting to fast-changing social behaviors into the creation of original content – entertaining, interactive, gamified, using algorithms to observe a communicative world and data collection, accelerating the process.
Following the principles of chemistry, YAMAN’s practice is a recodification characterized by a juxtaposed observation of the laws at play in both matter and society – invisible states, relationships, interactions, conditions before reaction and under equilibrium.
From this dual, coupled perspective, YAMAN notices imbalanced states in society and turns his focus to the source of distorted definition, information transmission which defines the minority or ‘other’.

Artist YAMAN NKYMN, who was invited to be part of the official program of “Frieze Los Angeles 2022” and whose documentary “THE ULTIMATE OTHER” (2022) was produced by Frieze Studio only one year after his debut as a contemporary artist, presented his new artwork in Kyoto.

This newest piece, which was shown in an area not usually open to the public at  Hoshunin Temple, Daitokuji, was titled “年ごとに 人はやらへど目に見えぬ 心の鬼はゆく方もなしWHITE2BLACK 11072023”. The invitations we received at our editorial office only stated “(跡見:)追儺 黒節分/(ATOMI:)WHITE2BLACK”. What is the significance of Oni that consistently appears in his work? Why was the poem by a female poet used as a title of it in the first place? We were honored to sit down and talk to YAMAN NKYMN about the creative background of this work and the sources of its inspiration.

The sediment that has accumulated over time brings out the artist’s personality

–How does your expertise and experience as a maestro-strategist influence this specific work or your practices as a contemporary artist?

YAMAN NKYMN (YAMAN): The influences from those are significant. In the first place, working as an artist makes me realize how ordinary I am. Basically, I don’t have anything like an “overflowing creative urge.”

Instead, what I have as an artist is a kind of sediment that has accumulated through my sincere commitment to the roles of marketer and strategist. The conflict between ideals and reality. The distortion between creative and commercial activities. The essential quality being spoiled day by day, by being forced to deal with superficial things.

Personally, I despair that there is a gap between the “ideal state” and the “actual state,” especially in industries like fashion and animation. I feel that because, even if the industry is made up of people who like working in that area, the ideal cannot be realized.

Being involved in those industries as someone in charge of the figures would accumulate a special kind of sediment because of the objective viewpoint one is forced to take. Conversely, the sediment that has accumulated little by little has constructed a message that can be disseminated because I am ordinary.

Therefore, all the elements in my work are simply what I have experienced, researched, and repeatedly thought about.

Only the fact I was forced to “communicate” in the position of the ordinary person’s job in a creative society formed a distinctive characteristic within myself. The sediments I have accumulated over time are not so easily understandable to others. On the other hand, just because it does not make sense to others does not necessarily mean it is incorrect. That is why I explore how I should communicate, contemplating whether to use metaphors or paraphrases. This “Chanoyu” style of expression is one such example.

–Is your career related to your references to subcultural icons and elements?

YAMAN: Some aspects are related, and others are not. In terms of unrelated aspects, I am the type of person who plans projects in a “3+1 dimensional” manner. It’s kind of like meditating on the world (3 dimensions) with a free time axis (+1 dimension). In other words, it is a Kurt Vonnegut-like thinking, or the mode of thinking often seen in science fiction. In other words, I treat these last 100 years “Showa/Heisei/Reiwa” eras as equivalent to the “Heian and Azuchi-Momoyama” eras, 1200-500 years ago. For me, Astro Boy is as valuable as Sen-no-Rikyu. That means I am the kind of person who thinks modern culture is temporally connected to the classics in a seamless manner.

Paradoxically, in terms of related aspects, the more classical, the heavier and slower, and the newer the content is, the lighter and faster. “Messages” are heavy and slow, but entertainment is light and fast. This is a critical perspective for contemporary marketing. It is not a dichotomy, but what matters is a balance, a middle ground between the two. Regardless of whether it is legitimate as an artistic expression, this sense of balance seems to be, at least at this point, a way in which I can continue to face the world without despairing.

In addition, my involvement in social media marketing for more than a decade since 2007 was a direct impetus for choosing “relational art” for this specific work. In other words, communication itself has been at the center of my career, and the key to this has been the balance between online and offline. If you read the literature of several critics since Nicolas Bourriaud’s seminal work published in 1998 from this perspective, you will notice that the relational infrastructure on which these works are based is different from that of today with the  existence of, for instance, social media. Therefore, I thought of composing a new work as “relational art in 2023” while incorporating the previous work “陸奥の 安達原の黒塚に 鬼籠もれりと言うはまことか (UN)KEEPALL” which focused on the same concept.

–”年ごとに 人はやらへど目に見えぬ 心の鬼はゆく方もなし WHITE2BLACK 11072023” and ”(跡見:)追儺 黒節分/(ATOMI:)WHITE2BLACK”, what are the meanings of the two names of your works?

YAMAN: The former is the title of my work of contemporary art. It is taken from a waka poem by Kamo-no-Yasunori-no-Musume, a woman of the mid-Heian period (end of C9th to mid C11th). This waka poem by a minority woman poet, who was physically scarred by a plague epidemic and living outside mainstream society, and who left us free, vigorous, and sharp creations, expresses all that this work means.

The latter is a title of Chaji, an authentic Japanese tea ceremony, which was named from the majority viewpoint. To give you an explanation, the name is linked to the date of the event. Today, in Japan, the term Setsubun makes us think of the Setsubun in February, but originally, Setsubun is the day before Risshun, Rikka, Risshu, and Ritto, the starting point of each season. 黒節分/WHITE2BLACK is the term coined to indicate the day before Risshu, the turning point from autumn to winter, referring to the theory of Yin-Yang and the five elements.

In this exhibition, the number “3” and multiples of 3 are spotted everywhere in this work. Since my previous work, I have dealt with the idea of de-dualism as one of the themes, such as “Oni,” which ranges between good and evil. The number “3” indicates “oneness,” the integration of duality. In Buddhism, it is said to represent “moderation.” Having two aspects, my work of contemporary art and Chaji, an authentic Japanese tea ceremony, reveal an infinite number of possibilities through this “oneness”.

–Please give us an overview of the exhibition once again.

YAMAN: “(跡見:)追儺 黒節分/(ATOMI:)WHITE2BLACK” consists of two different events spanning two days as one set, which are “追儺 黒節分/WHITE2BLACK” and “跡見: 追儺 黒節分/ATOMI:WHITE2BLACK”.

On the first day, the former invited three people for a 3-hour tea ceremony. Theaster Gates, Hirohiko Araki, and Raku Kichizaemon XVI were the guests of honor on each day. The relationship between the host and guests begins with welcoming them at Kinmokaku, the main gate of Daitokuji Temple. After that, we moved to Hoshunin Temple to proceed with Chaji, the authentic Japanese tea ceremony, two types of matcha tea and Kaiseki cuisine after the reception experience .

On the second day, the latter was conducted for 27 people per day in the form of “ATOMI(-no-Chaji)” in tea ceremony culture, and the exhibition was organized in a way that the vestiges of the Chaji held on the first day were visible. A sheet of paper, called “Chakai-Ki” was prepared and placed in the room, describing the participants, utensils used, and menu for the Kaiseki cuisine. The intention behind it was to make guests read what was going on in the Chaji on the first day and the relationship between host and guests from the vestiges. Visitors became participants in the relationships that already existed through the act of reading the vestiges.

This two-day set was conducted three times for a total of six days. The whole event is collectively referred to as “年ごとに 人はやらへど目に見えぬ 心の鬼はゆく方もなし WHITE2BLACK 11072023” (The waka poem means; Year after year, people perform the ritual to drive Oni away but they never notice that an invisible Oni also exists in their hearts) produced under the concept: Information Transmission and its (Ingrained) Distortion.

–I visited on the day of “ATOMI” and it was characterized by many references to elements from subculture in addition to those icons of Japanese history such as Oni, Sugawara-no-Michizane, and Sen-no-Rikyu.

YAMAN: In the early stage of the planning, the work was meant to be composed of only three contrasts: Oni, Sugawara-no-Michizane, and Sen-no-Rikyu. Even now, the main components of the work are these three as representatives of “distorted and ingrained information.” While this became worthy of admiration as a conceptual work, I had a problem with how it lacked lightness and how narrow the spectrum of its beauty was. It seemed to be weak as a protocol that could be appreciated both in Asia and globally.

So I referred to “American Beauty,” a beautiful comedy film about de-stereotyping. However, since its theatrical release, I have interpreted it as a story about finding the American form of wabi-sabi, in which the protagonist dies just after achieving enlightenment.

I projected it as an alternative way of life (death) that goes against the “unfortunate destiny of Oni/Sugawara-no-Michizane/Sen-no-Rikyu” onto the work. Since the exhibition was initially composed from the viewpoints of the three “dissidents,” the work was too resentful and bitter. The reference to that film balanced that out. Another essential element of this film is the fact that it was released in 1999 when the relational art movement and SABIÉ, a group reinstated to continue to evolve Chanoyu established in 1988, were active.

The same goes for Astro Boy. An animation cell of the black-and-white animated film “Astro Boy,” which began in 1963, and a tea bowl from my collection were included in the work. Displaying the animation cell as a hanging scroll completely changed the atmosphere of the entire exhibition. The use of the tea bowls with the image of Astro boy in the tea ceremony also added a sense of relaxation amidst the tension. In addition, as an idea I had been working on, I tried to juxtapose “Oni” with “Astro Boy.”

Astro Boy in the 1960s is not just a story of rewarding good and punishing evil. Racism and minority issues are well depicted. While robots are set up to have emotions equal to humans, they are not allowed to compete or fight equally with humans under the law of the “Three Laws of Robotics”. In a sense, we can overlap the structures of respective episodes of Astro Boy with actual cases of racial discrimination. There are many stories in which Astro boy is discriminated against as a robot or plays the role of the dissident. 

In addition, the Astro Boy animated series, released in 1963, began to be broadcast in Korea in 1970. As was often the case at the time, I learned that some Koreans thought it was an animation produced in their own country. Also, many look-alike works were subsequently made in Korea. I was interested in pointing out this fact in a pan-Asian context and in relation to the concept of my work: Information Transmission and its (Ingrained) Distortion. Rather than judging whether it was good or bad, I thought it was a fascinating story that could be contrasted with the black-and-white animated “Astro Boy” being the first example of animation character copyright protection in Japan. I thought that the question of who the rules and schemes are for would be a question that could be linked to the “Japanese tea ceremony.”

–A pair of sneakers were included as one of the exhibits in this exhibition, as in the previous one.

YAMAN: I feel attached to Alessandro Michele’s Gucci, partly because I was involved of 2016 Cruise Collection. I like his philosophy and creations. One of the collections that manifested his philosophy was the “Fake Not” collection, and I sympathized with the concept. I have been embedding these sneakers in my work at every exhibition so far, as they overlap with the message I want to convey.

Another thing is that I always place these sneakers in places where visitors take off their shoes, such as shoe racks. When people see these shoes, they imagine an invisible guest, saying, “Oh, there is a visitor ahead of me.” “Oni,” which is used as a motif in every exhibition, has been defined in mythology as “something invisible” in relation to chinese character “隠/onu,” a word literally meaning “invisible.” I feel that Alessandro’s 2020 item evokes the “invisible guest” at the beginning of the exhibition, inviting guests on a journey into the more than 2,000 years of “Oni” history.

–Please tell us about “Oni,” the symbol that has consistently appeared in your works from your previous works.

YAMAN: The previous work was released in 2021. Unexpectedly, the exhibition was held under the declared state of emergency caused by COVID-19. The pandemic started when I was working on production. I reviewed the project in light of the changed environment, which ended up referring to “Oni.”

When you unravel history and mythology, you realize that the definition “Oni” has been used conveniently by human beings. At the time, I paid particular attention to the fact that one thousand years ago, epidemics were referred to as “鬼魅 (Oni and demons)”. Japanese people believed that Oni and demons brought disasters from the outer into our world. But at the same time Japanese people would enshrine and pray to them to avoid disaster. In short, with regard to the epidemics that occurred at that time, the Japanese people put both the cause and the solution on someone other than themselves, that is, “Oni”, “the outer”.

On the contrary, in the waka poem quoted in the title of this work, “年ごとに 人はやらへど目に見えぬ 心の鬼はゆく方もなし WHITE2BLACK 11072023“, it is pointed out that Oni exist “inside” of us as well. This must have been a groundbreaking perspective at the time in the Heian era.

In addition, as many of us know, “Oni,” which is supposed to be an old classical motif, frequently appears in modern works, such as “Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba.” And that makes me feel that this motif is compatible with my style, in which I refer to manga, anime, tokusatsu, movies, science fiction, and the Classics.

The explosive power of entertainment necessary to deal with serious messages

–On your Instagram, participants posted their critiques/impressions, and the author of the manga “JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure”, Hirohiko Araki commented, “At the end of the exhibition, there was more calligraphy on display. The characters said “咄々々” (totsu-totsu-totsu). The meaning is an old onomatopoeia like “ゴゴゴ (go-go-go, featured in JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure). Something is going to happen.” and scriptwriter Mitsuyoshi Takasu uses the keywords “puzzle solving”.

YAMAN: I feel that the motifs, including “Oni,” contribute to the formation of various links by themselves. On the other hand, my style also deconstructs and embeds classical motifs from a contemporary entertainment point of view.

I compose works in a multi-layered structure with many links and the “puzzle solving” element that accompanies it, inspired by the film director, Hideaki Anno’s way of thinking which I learned directly from him when I was involved in the movie “Shin Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time”. I am also influenced by reference culture, which is different from that of contemporary art, and by the “ambiguous statement” approach, which is also unlike art.

Since my debut, I have consistently dealt with the concept of “Information Transmission and its (Ingrained) Distortion” and minority issues. They are not something for which I can quickly come up with the “right answer”, so I hope to create a situation where people feel something from my artwork. 

Perhaps my career as a marketing strategist spanning more than 20 years has led me to believe this, but I feel that the world has become a place where it is impossible to enjoy a serious message without it having quick and entertaining elements. The more serious messages we have, the more entertaining elements we need. In that sense, I am relieved to hear and appreciate these words from two people I respect.

–I learnt that you have created your work in the form of relational art. Can you say more about it?

YAMAN: The work is based on the idea of relational aesthetics or relational art, a concept defined in Nicolas Bourriaud’s 1998 book “Esthétique Relationnelle.” The emphasis is on the interactions with the surroundings that occur in the process of the creation of the work.

What is called interactive art emphasizes the interaction between the work and the audience, but relational art emphasizes the interaction between the artist and the audience. The interaction itself is defined as the work of art, and the process of its creation and the audience’s participation are its essence.

One of the points of debate among critics since 1998 has been whether relational art can mirror “social relationships” and I believe the solution lies in the fact that the infrastructure of relation itself has changed, as I mentioned earlier.

–I found your exhibition rich and profound as it included so-called entertainment elements such as subculture and “puzzle solving,” but also used masterpieces valued at hundreds of thousands, or over a million USD, such as Chôjirô’s, and Nonko’s Black Raku tea bowl. Could you tell us why you focused on Chanoyu, the authentic Japanese tea ceremony culture for this exhibition?

YAMAN: My initial interest in Sen-no-Rikyu started in the era of Tom Ford’s “Gucci,” so 1990s, I guess. However, the more I researched, the more I wondered to what extent “Sen-no-Rikyu’s Chanoyu” as a way to seek “essence” has been handed down to the present day. In the first place, even information about Sen-no-Rikyu is often distorted.

In February of this year, I was inaugurated as the creative director of the SABIÉ, and I had a lot of discussions with Reijiro Izumi, the head of  SABIÉ. And we came up with an approach that deals with “Chanoyu”, the authentic Japanese tea ceremony culture from an artistic aspect.

In “Chanoyu” there is a concept that is similar to relational art, in which the interaction between the host and the guests constitutes the work of art, as manifested in such phrases as “一座建立(Ichiza-konryu, meaning “perfect interaction” created by the perfect action of the host and the perfect reaction from the guests) and “主客一体(Shukaku-ittai, meaning “perfect ambience” which host and guests create together.)  This led to the integrated project of a Chaji, an authentic Japanese tea ceremony, that is simultaneously a work of relational art that I mentioned earlier. Needless to say, it is meaningless unless it is the best tea ceremony from the perspective of “Chanoyu” as well. And good utensils are essential to reaching perfection.

On the other hand, Chôjirô’s Black Raku tea bowls were not classics when Sen-no-Rikyu chose them. As you say, it has now become an expensive work of art, but it is very doubtful whether Sen-no-Rikyu intended this current situation. I and Reijiro Izumi, the head of SABIÉ, decided to put aside the market theory and try to arrange good utensils that fit the concept; those were what we chose for this project.

–What led you to the concept of “Information Transmission and its (Ingrained) Distortion“?

YAMAN: First of all, although I describe it as “distortion,” I treat it as both a good and bad meaning. Sometimes good results can be formed through distortion. The point is that all information may be distorted in transmission and moreover, after 500 years, it is ingrained, and it becomes difficult to tell what is fact and what is distortion.

In addition, we need to develop a critical eye to speculate on what it means to have information from 500, 1,000, or even 2,000 years ago still available. In many cases, the will of the winners, the people with authority, and the establishment of the time, in other words, the majority, may have intervened in the process. There is certainly a difference between “historical fact” and “official history.”

This was true even for the interpretation of information before the age of information technology, so it is even more essential to examine the information from this perspective today when technology has quadratically increased the amount of information generated. On the other hand, just as memes sometimes add new points of view to the original information, it is meaningful to observe information and distorted information in juxtaposition.

–Conversely, is there any risk in using the Japanese tea ceremony, which has a 500-year history, as an example to express the concept of “Information Transmission and its (Ingrained) Distortion” which could be seen as a negative? What do you think about this as a creative director of the second-generation SABIÉ, appointed in 2023?

YAMAN: It carries a considerable risk (laughs). But I also think it is necessary to point that out. Above all, that was the honest feeling I had about “Chanoyu” regarding my own interest.

When planning this project, I had a series of discussions with Reijiro Izumi, the head of SABIÉ, about how bold our expression should be. He said, “You can make it unashamedly the solo exhibition of the contemporary artist, YAMAN NKYMN.” I was impressed by his comprehensive mind as a producer, and it reminded me that “Chanoyu” is weighted with 500 years of history.

We had 9 participants in the Chaji and 81 in the ATOMI, and I felt that they were all interested in both contemporary art and Chanoyu. The points of interest were different for each of the participants, but they all responded that they were difficult to enjoy, but at the same time interesting. 

–Finally, please tell us about your future plans as a contemporary artist.

YAMAN: I felt that the expression as relational art, which I tried this time, has great potential. As I mentioned at the beginning, I am not a genuine artist. If anything, I am more like a bug, an irregular factor born within the social structure.

Since what I want to express is based on my career, high compatibility with the means of expression is the key. In this sense, I am happy to have found a language that suits me well. This time, we were joined on the first day of the tea ceremony by Theaster Gates, who will exhibit at the Mori Art Museum in Tokyo next spring. We have formed an unexpected relationship with him and are hoping to collaborate.

I am making “(跡見:)追儺 黒節分/(ATOMI:)WHITE2BLACK” an annual event. I have already finished a filming with Perimetron for this year, as part of a project with “the outer” party that will take three years from 2023 to 2025.

–It sounds interesting.

YAMAN: The launch date of the film in 2023 has not yet been set. And I have not yet decided where and how I will hold “(跡見:)追儺 黒節分/(ATOMI:)WHITE2BLACK” in 2024 and beyond, but I plan to invite participants via my Instagram, as I did this year. I feel that the image of the artist that will be formed by the relationships, including these prospects I mentioned, is what I’m envisioning.

Continue to Vol. 2

Photography Kisshomaru Shimamura

The post Interview with YAMAN NKYMN Vol.1: Pandemic Art Project Evolves into A  Work of Relational Aesthetics in Post-COVID Era appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

From Left to Right

Takumi Kushida
CEO of Kussy. Takumi Kushida founded Kussy in 2022 after working at Space Shower. He works on TV programs about music, online content, music videos, and other visual content.
Instagram：@kushida_takumi

Ryohei Kaneda
Art director and graphic designer. After working at groovisions, Ryohei Kaneda founded YES, a design studio, in 2019. His multidimensional career includes working on campaigns from top to bottom, branding, books, magazines, products, videos, and spaces.
nstagram：@kanedaryohei

Toshi Miyashita
The CEO of 8%, a creative studio-cum-agency that collaborates with, produces, and designs for artists, IP, music, art, spaces, and more.
Instagram : ＠setagayaboy

Ten to Sen
Owner and buyer of SOKKYOU, a secondhand store in Koenji. He also runs a clothing line, Daughter, online. Ten to Sen is the founder of DENPA!!!
Instagram：@10to1000

“DOME” Presented by DENPA!!!
Instagram：@dome.fest

DENPA!!!, a subcultural party that gained a cult-like following in the 2000s, came back as DOME ‘23. The party has been organized through various means in fashion, art, subcultural circles, and the club scene, such as the GEISAI stage in Taiwan hosted by contemporary artist Takashi Murakami, So Very Show by TAICOCLUB, a collaboration with MTV Japan, and so on. Ten years since their last party, DENPA!!! 2013, the first installation of DOME was held on two floors: Daikanyama UNIT and SALOON. 

In accordance with their statement, “We, the DENPA!!! team, have been working across different cultures and created a new event to manifest our long-awaited childhood dream,” ∈Y∋ opened the night. The braindance genius Bogdan Raczynski, who came to Japan after 20 years, lit up the dancefloor with euphoric breakbeats and four-on-the-floor beats in pitch darkness with no lights or visuals, akin to Autechre.  

Other experimental acts from abroad that performed were experimental glitch techno producer Grischa Lichtenberger and arguably the most crucial figure in China’s contemporary electronic music scene, Howie Lee. Additionally, there were domestic artists like aus, who released an album for the first time in 15 years, world’s end girlfriend, who released an album for the first time in seven years and eight months and performed live for the first time in three years and eight months, Cwondo, the solo project of No Buses’ Taisei Kondo, and BBBBBBB, who released their sophomore album from the American label, Deathbomb Arc.      

The party lasted for around eight hours and was a dreamy experience that didn’t require words; I realized just how amazing it was later on.  

Why did they return as DOME after ten years since their days as DENPA!!!? In the second volume, to understand DOME, we asked the members to share what they discussed before they made a comeback, their hiatus during covid, and how things started moving rapidly this summer. 

Going back to their origins and the change in being earnest due to the times  

–What made you want to make a comeback after ten years?

Ryohei Kaneda: The three of us were drinking in 2019 or so, and we were casually like, “Why don’t we throw a party after all this time?” That was the catalyst. We invited Kushida-kun, and it slowly started coming together. When we were like, “Let’s hit up some venues,” covid happened. 

Ten to Sen: The party ended in 2013 because the escapism I sought in clubs became a part of everyday life. The dreaminess faded away, and it turned into reality. It wasn’t a business, so I felt like something was off and quit at that point. Another reason is that similar events started popping up one after the other. 

I watched where people seeking escapism went next, and outdoor festivals became popular. A few years later, festivals became oversaturated, too. In part a reaction to this development, people started looking for a new space. Then, the Olympics came. There was this intangible frustration, and we were brought together again by a gravitational pull. We wondered if there was anywhere to go to in Tokyo, somewhere that wasn’t a club or festival. We got together knowing we had to do something, even though we only had a vague idea. 

Kaneda: That’s true. We were hungry to create a music event on our own again. My day-to-day job is mainly based on commissions from clients, so I don’t have a lot of opportunities to take the lead and create content from scratch. I started remembering how we were paving a new wave or way of being of culture through DENPA!!! 

Ten to Sen: Before I realized it, music was streaming-based, it became difficult to go outside, and we became physically distant; I was yearning to connect. When we got together, I knew that we wouldn’t do it in the future unless we did it then because I’m from a generation that knows that feeling. We had to do it while the passion and dreams we had in the past were still tangible. I was motivated to see what that looked like once more. 

–It’s like you returned to the fundamental motivation you previously had.

Ten to Sen: Whenever people take action, there’s a demand from society, which was ramped up because of covid. For instance, activists emphasize putting out a statement when they hold a big event. Of course, that’s vital, but I began to question how people would have events as a response to society. Initially, we were driven by our internal drive or, I guess you can call it sincerity, this feeling of “I want to do something like this” or “This is what I want to see.” That feeling boiled inside of me until DOME happened. 

I think “solidarity” is the keyword here. The interpretation of this word differs from person to person, but I questioned how people always clung to it. You hear this word over and over because reality doesn’t reflect it. Meaning it’s a manifestation of the structure of conflict between generations and ideologies.

Ultimately, solidarity, in the narrowest sense of the word, feels similar to cliquey vibes and in-crowd communities that I used to encounter at fashion parties. I held events to get rid of such borders. 

Now, more than ever, you’ll see similar artists, DJs, ages, and ways of thinking at club events. I understand the social situation in which people can’t protect their own spaces otherwise, but it’s different from the festival-like spaces I had carved out. 

Toshi Miyashita: DENPA!!! was really distinct and stood out. The lineup is essential, but that’s not everything. It played the role of something like a left-field music and culture trade fair that you’d want to be a part of regardless of who was performing.

Ten to Sen: True. We wanted to go back to our roots with DOME. The process started with reevaluating everything, including the fact that I used to like noise music and that everyone used to like WARP RECORDS. 

This is off-topic, but some people make fun of this demographic called “NewJeans Ojisan” (ojisan translates to middle-aged man), which refers to those who only recognize NewJeans and don’t follow preceding Korean artists. But that means some people can be called Aphex Kids. Most people know of Aphex Twin, Squarepusher, or Autechre but don’t know of Bogdan, who we invited to the party. By that logic, those people are the same as NewJeans Ojisan.

I believe each person starts liking artists according to their own timeline, and it doesn’t matter how they’re introduced to them. The impetus for booking artists for DOME was this intense desire to introduce artists who are still unknown. 

Bogdan, Grischa Lichtenberger, and Howie Lee are still not very well-known in Japan, but we invited them because we felt like their experimental spirit and our strong motivation spoke to each other. 

Toshi: Bogdan immediately told us yes. It wasn’t intentional, but a common theme for this party was that most artists don’t have an agent. I’m not saying whether having one is bad or good. We have people who make music independently and uniquely. Regarding booking artists, it was important for us to have a heartfelt approach. The same goes for how we promoted the event; it was an extension of the simple truth that we like what we like. 

Takumi Kushida: It’s the manifestation of sincerity. In a way, I’m the most on the outs, and my background is very different from the rest. DOME was fun in a different way from the first time I encountered the members of DENPA!!! The shape of sincerity is different. With DENPA!!!, I was simply surprised that there was a form of fun that I didn’t know existed, even though I knew they were doing something really alternative. Overlooking the fact that I was involved in booking the artists, DOME was distinct from the previous party in terms of emotion and purity, even if you were a customer.

A festival-like environment that became normalized

Ten to Sen: As for DENPA!!!, although it was hard to see, there was a decent amount of like-minded people—this is coming from someone who felt withdrawn and on the outskirts of society. This festival-like space was born because I tried getting rid of that wall, but because of that, the party became more normalized and neutral. 

DENPA!!! became the standard model to start an event at the time. That dream I had upon founding DENPA!!! materialized, but now it’s too visible; it’s too much. Our fundamental mindset is the same, but our approach to DOME differs from DENPA!!!

Kaneda: Nowadays, you can stream or listen to music on YouTube. You can also watch festivals at home, as they’re livestreamed. Things are more convenient now, but music used to be something you had to seek proactively. Now, we’re on the receiving end; it trickles down, and there’s less substance and weight to people’s stories of discovering music. It’s hard to create memories surrounding that experience. 

You would’ve had to dig through records or go to clubs and events to discover certain music. Today, you can quickly look up and listen to a song someone recommends online. Even if it feels like you’ve learned about that song, that moment is only brief and won’t last in your memory. The fact that discovering music became shallow made me feel apathetic and discontent. 

Ten to Sen: Usually, live shows have a fixed number of fans who know the performing act, and the vibe, including the age group, is usually established. I wanted to go beyond that. For example, BBBBBBB-san, who performed at DOME, messaged me, saying, “It was such a great experience, performing in front of a different age group than usual. I had a lot of fun.” I wanted people in their late 30s to 50s to listen to BBBBBBB because they probably didn’t have a lot of opportunities to do so. Cwondo-kun is in his 20s, and we also had legends like ∈Y∋-san. 

For us, it doesn’t matter what generation you are. We want to open up the space for people to listen to music freely without us having to tell them what category it belongs to. Compared to DENPA!!!, I was more conscious of that this time around. 

Kushida: We’re very earnest about music. Usually, you’d have something like fandoms. But we don’t have that. We put the focus on the music and clearly demonstrated that age doesn’t matter when it comes to the pure act of listening to music. None of us gets bored listening to songs, even if they’re from an artist we don’t know. 

Ten to Sen: Many circles prioritize the universal language of playing songs everyone knows, like people getting hyped up when DJs play hits. I’m more of the type that feels moved when people play songs I don’t know.

Kushida: I mean, we weren’t even informed of what Howie Lee planned to do.

Ten to Sen: Currently, information is increasingly being prioritized. What illustrates this is that it’s become the norm for virtually everyone to take videos for their Instagram at shows or clubs. Recording, posting, and sharing parties online is at the center now. Ill-Bosstino of The Blue Herb said a while back, “We have a professional cameraman here, so don’t worry about taking videos. You’re a professional audience, so please watch us live.” I thought that was cool! 

My generation seeks or feels moved by passion, groove, and witnessing things in the moment rather than documenting them. I’m not saying you can’t take videos, though. I do it at times, too. 

（Continued in Vol. 3）

Photography Masashi Ura
Translation Lena Grace Suda

The post The Legendary Subcultural Party, DENPA!!!, Returns as DOME After a Decade: Vol. 2 Committing to Being Earnest appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.

His creations are intuitive, detached from verbal or cerebral processes. While traversing diverse cultures, they resonate with the essence of a decadent 90s culture. He characterizes his work as “a culmination of everything I’ve believed in, from music and movies, U.S. toys, fashion, to DIY culture”. Currently showcased at the “Untitled II” exhibition, his drawings and 3D models construct a unique realm that seamlessly blends charcoal motifs and other indistinct colors together, provoking viewers and broadening their outlook. In this interview, we discussed everything from the roots of his creations to the inspiration behind his new work and approach to the ongoing exhibition.

Kensei Yabuno
Yabuno, born in Hokkaido in 1975, pursued Fine Art at Camberwell College of Arts in the U.K. His paintings and 3D models have graced exhibitions at notable venues such as Iimart, THE LAST GALLERY, and Isetan Shinjuku. His work has gained international exposure through publications like Idea, vice, and DAZED & CONFUSED. Notably, his creations adorned the textile design for Comme Des Garçon’s 2011 spring/summer collection. Among his recent exhibitions are WHY YOU (2019/HYSTERIC GLAMOUR SHIBUYA) with Shigekazu Onuma and solo exhibition Untitled (2022/KOMIYAMA TOKYO G).

“There are constantly two opposing personas within me”

– Can you elaborate on how you developed your simple yet genre-defying style that incorporates alien-like motifs, blending design and animation to create a distinctive worldview?

Kensei Yabuno: I began drawing in kindergarten. There wasn’t a specific event that led me to pursue art; it was the only choice for a dropout like me.
The black and white “Alien” marked my debut at the CLASKA solo exhibition in 2009. It was also the first time I showcased my work as a 3D model, having only presented 2D graphics before that.

Working at Omocha Spiral in Harajuku immediately after moving to Tokyo at the age of eighteen proved to be a pivotal experience for me. My fascination and understanding of U.S. toys blossomed, seamlessly guiding me through the transition from 2D to 3D.

I’ve been passionate about extreme music, film, and fashion since my teenage years. Perhaps that distinctive eccentric sensibility is reflected in my work.

– What principles do you adhere to when it comes to creating art?

Yabuno: Before executing my vision into tangible form, I consistently create mental images, updating them regularly. But that process only exists in my head; there is no step between conceptualization and manifestation. What’s important to me is the mental preparation, the physical act of putting hands to work, and confronting the task at hand.

– Do you experience fluctuations in your creative process or personal challenges, separate from external opinions and changes?

Yabuno: Absolutely (laughs). I’m aware that I’m someone who constantly experiences highs and lows, regardless of age. There are times when I lack the motivation, when things aren’t unfolding as I’d like them to, or when I’m grappling with a hurdle.

As I mentioned in my artist statement, there are two opposing personas that exist within me: one while asleep and one when awake. Jokingly, I refer to them as “Jekyll and Hyde”. The “Hyde” side harbors disdain and rejects everything. Maybe “Hyde” represents my true self (laughs).

“Expanding dimensions”: a new sensation

– Following last year’s “Untitled”, this marks your second exhibition. Can you highlight any new insights compared to the previous year?

Yabuno: Reflecting on last year’s “Untitled”, “Untitled II” aligns more closely with what I envisioned as a child. Back then, I felt restricted to turning only right, and now I find myself able to turn left. Unanticipated realizations unfolded as I transformedd the abstract yet concrete images in my mind into tangible expressions. I want to cherish this sensation through the fifth installation.

– In this exhibition, a plant-like color scheme has been introduced alongside your distinctive black and white 3D model creations. The light gold background color in your charcoal drawing was quite striking. How do you perceive the role of color in your work?

Yabuno: The significance of the 3D model evolves when infused with a color, whether a skin tone or a bronze hue. Introducing colors is intriguing as it alters the visibility of the work for me. To be honest, I find black and white most appealing, but the entire visual dynamic shifts with the addition of even a single color. This gradual broadening of perspectives may be the reason why I initially developed an interest in this artistic realm.

– How does the integration of seemingly contrasting elements hold significance for your present and future selves?

Yabuno: This may sound redundant, but what unfolds in dreams and what occurs in reality both happen to the same individual. The interplay between right and left, the coexistence of reality and dream, the difference between steady movement and a dynamic, direct one – all of these aspects contribute to the amalgamation of seemingly disparate elements. Merging two different components is akin to bridging the gaps on both sides. By incorporating previously unseen elements into your cultivated worldview, you can draw closer to your ideal. The sensation of expanding dimensions was a new revelation for me.

Yet, what I truly hold as a belief are the words of graphic designer Masayoshi Nakajo: “Masterpieces are coincidences”.

Trsanslation Mimiko Goldstein

The post “There Is No Step Between Conceptualization and Manifestation”: Exploring Kensei Yabuno’s Creations in “Untitled II” appeared first on TOKION - Cutting edge culture and fashion information.