Japan

Miya Ando | Sundaram Tagore Gallery

by Liz on July 20, 2011

Miya Ando (Photo courtesy of artist)

She’s the 16th generation of a family of swordmakers turned Buddhist priests, but as steeped in tradition is her namesake, Miya Ando’s art is anything but outdated. In fact, if the cold, hard steel plates that adorn the walls of her Brooklyn studio are any indication, Ando makes art that’s distinctly contemporary. Perhaps even timeless.

Ando's 'day 13:00' (steel, patina, pigment, resin)

Like the beams of light that run through her polished steel plates, Ando is possessed of unswerving wit and charm. There’s an air of absolute determination about her, a prerequisite, I’m sure, which comes with being a woman artist who works with a decidedly manly material.

“Steel is very masculine,” Ando said, “it’s our most strong substance.” But as the unmistakable descendent of Buddhist swordmakers, no one is more up to the task of metalwork than Ando. To create the zen polish that suffuses the surface of her metal plates, Ando sandpapers the steel with such meticulous finish that even the most prosaic lump of industrial grade slab is transformed into an unclouded mirror of self-reflection.

“For me, sanding is a meditative practice. In Japanese, the term ‘Migaku’ means to polish yourself. Making yourself pure through meditation.”

It’s this very notion of purification that presides over her September 11th monument for London, to be completed before the 10th observance of that fateful day. The structure is entirely made of World Trade Center steel, with parts sanded and polished to a mirror finish.

“My intention is to transform the steel, and put it back to the public. A metaphor for transforming tragedy.” The polished steel, through its reflection of light would serve as a symbol for peace.

2 pair geta (hot-rolled diamond plate steel, steel cable, automotive lacquer)

Ando is of Russian and Japanese descent, but grew up with Japanese as her first language. Raised in Okayama, Japan, she grew up with a deep sense of reverence for her Buddhist ancestors and Eastern philosophy. This year, she will partake in the Haein Art Project at Haeinsa, a renowned Korean Buddhist temple built in 802 AD. Her outdoor commission will consist of blocks of resin that absorbs light during the day, then glows at night, thanks to its phosphorescent properties.

“Us hybrid East-West people, we can take two disparate things, and bring them together. And it’s important we do that, to pay homage to our ancestors and to draw from their cultural values.”

Furisode Kimono, stainless steel and sterling silver metal finishing 56" x 70"

Miya Ando’s works are currently part of a nine-woman exhibit at Sundaram Tagore Gallery in New York, ongoing through July 30. The Gallery is participating in the Chelsea Art Walk on July 28 from 5 to 8 pm, so that might be a good time to go. Live music, chilled Bellinis, and artists from the show will be on hand during the event.

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Hikari Shimoda | Foley Gallery

by Liz on April 23, 2011

in Art & Design

Midnight Birthday Party (2010), 11"x9", Watercolor on paper

If you’re in the mood for sweet paintings with a palpable sense of childhood discomfort, look no further than Hikari Shimoda’s works, now on view at the Foley Gallery through May 7.

The exhibit, titled “me, as in the beast coat,” has some echoes of Shimoda’s Japanese contemporary and predecessor Nara Yoshitomo. According to Shimoda, children aren’t the carefree souls we oblivious grown-ups presuppose them to be. They suffer humiliation, sexual embarrassment, loneliness and hollowed out abandonment. That’s some pretty heavy emotional baggage, but whatever these real or imagined children are thinking is buried in the pretty pastel world where they reside. The presence of Teddy bears, birthday cakes, blue skies with fluffy white clouds, however, are still no match for the sad biography of childhood, interrupted.

I found it poignant that Shimoda, a native of Nagano, chose to depict children in a delicate palette, evocative of the Japanese kawaii culture but also light years apart from the feelings of trivial joy associated with cartoon characters. Unwritten chastisement of adults was visible everywhere. Who else could possibly be responsible for the false assurances and let-downs our little anti-heroes were enduring? The absence of the villain in the paintings seemed to further underscore my hypothesis that there was nothing more unforgivable, and therefore unmentionable, than the shadowy authority that would let this happen. The artist’s message also evoked the universal notion of an inner child residing in all of us, somehow forgotten after all these years, but still there, desperately seeking comfort, love, and an outpouring of empathy.

Shimoda’s paintings are beautiful, and had me looking forward to more from this young and talented Japanese artist. At 26 years old, she has probably put childhood well behind her. Still, as her works demonstrate, that makes her young enough to see glimpses of the past in the rearview mirror. For more information on the current exhibit, see here.