“He’s got a fever” (2014)

Interviews with domestic and foreign researchers, using the questions from the artist (OKADA) who is not present on the site, are put into an installation artwork, where these Interviews are rear-projected in two ways.

On the wall, there are staircases that are not for real use. Above them, bare feet of a woman who is hesitating on the top of the cliff.

The interviewees talk about their most distressing or impressive experiences. The artwork is composed of the images of their lips and their discourses. Psychoanalytic conditions are added to a form of interview.

Thus the viewer of the artwork would be placed in the position of the analyst or the subject of transference, on the condition that the receivers of these messages are suspended and dispersed. Artwork in which a “non-conversational conversation” is represented as an installation.

He’s got a fever,  Galerie16, Kyoto May- June 2014

Inatallation view      Photo: Harumi ITO

Comments distributed in the exhibition room

This artwork is constructed based on the discourses about the experiences when they had a fever, as a response to questions from the artist who Is absent.

 

“He’s got a fever.”
Everyone can be in a trouble or have a problem.
Then it can be a confessional story.
Or it can be a place where they are alone in an isolated experience on a floating island, deserted by people.If not asked to talk about it forcibly, the place will remain incognito and astray.

 

I watch their experiences shine in darkness.
Of course, under that condition, my experience would also shine in the same way.
We look up at the stars beautifully shining in the sky, meanwhile, there is a shining star at our feet at the same time. Let us see and listen to how it speaks about what relationships in what kind of words.

 

I make an installation as though I am looking up at the darkness of experience and looking down on my feet, in a style of non-conversational conversation.

Akiko OKADA

To the exhibition of Akiko OKADA,

“The fever given immediately to the consciousness”

 

In philosophy, a certain attraction has been emitted to me from the concept of “the data that are immediately given to the consciousness”, posing a problematique at the same time. The reason why this concept was questionable was that, “Then, has the consciousness been waiting for that given to come?” or “How had it been possible for the consciousness exist before that thing came?”

 

The exhibition of Akiko Okada “He has a fever” proposes an answer to these questions. There, the artist delegates her camera and questions to the interviewers, asking about the experiences when they had a fever to her acquaintances, friends and people whom she was supposed to meet. The artwork thus approaches the personal experiences when the subject was in an obscure state of the mind. In this way, the “intimate discourses” and the will of the artist to answer are able to weave a relationship in the absence of relation.

 

When I watched and listened, an answer came to my mind. The “data that are immediately given to the consciousness” is like this – When consciousness was differentiated from something else, there remains something without becoming conscious. This is the “datum that is immediately given to consciousness”. At the very moment when the consciousness was born, what was found there first is this datum. In reality it comes from myself, but the consciousness grasps it as something that comes from the outside. Meanwhile, this remaining thing was spoken in the exhibition, with each discourse participating in the density or thickness of speech.

 

When we think of the first questions again, we may refer to the artist’s words about this exhibition. “I am thinking of several things; for example, we have personal “unspoken” experiences such as having a fever. I wonder how the consciousness of this kind of experience can exist in our relationships. Or, the consciousness of the self and that of the other, how can they remain untouched to each other? And I am thinking of the strange beauty of individual experiences that make us ourselves.”

One can weave out discourses from the “fever that is given immediately to the consciousness”. These are very personal, individual and singular, but they throw the human being to the universal human condition.

 

Even when they cannot find common terms in each other, these discourses continue. Conversation may not occur. Instead, the discourses that are born in separate places can grow and the growth may constitute a thick relational conglomerate. Entering the conglomerate is a space experience. In the artist’s work, we have some superimposed perceptions. These do not constitute landscapes, not soundscapes either. The artist begins an ignition by the concept of fever. There we are in “another phenomenon” that exists between the self and the other. If we express it in a condensed form, it is a “discourscape”, which has emerged by the movements of migrating representations.

Kazushige Shingu (psychiatry)