|Installation work representing the introspections on and since the day 3.11 of the Tohoku Great Earthquake. It recollects the thoughts on the loss, both conscious and unconscious, as well as the vivid perceptions of found objects.
Tiny objects on the exhibition floor are composed of picked-up objects, inherited objects from the artist’s mother and the objects given to her loved one, during the period starting 1998, as shown in the outside document. This exhibition is an attempt at a dépaysment that everyone could have experienced in infantile days by being confronted with objects isolated from their original places.
It also tries to show one’s remembrance of oneself as something that belongs to no one, as if it were an experience of the reversal of a life when one is suddenly addressed by an inanimate thing. Meanwhile, projected on the wall are human images where the differences of sexes are deliberately obscured. Objects that contain memory are simply waiting for the chance of being picked up, in the darkness and lit up by penlights.
The viewer, as for their status of subject and in watching these things, will be transformed into fragments of organs that comprise the entire space including picked-up objects. The wholeness of the space is supported by another part, with each organ corresponding to each beauty of the world. Installed here is the recognition that we humans are picked up by the difference of sexes, life and death.
I love you with all my organs., Galerie16, Kyoto, September 2011
Installation View photo: Harumi ITO
In the darkness, floatingly lit up by penlights, emerge the objects that contain memories and attachments of the artist. Projected on the wall are images where the difference between sexes is deliberately obscured. “We are watched over from the side of the lives/picked up by the difference of sexes.” A philosophical installation which conducts us into a transposition of consciousness. — Mikako SAWADA, Writer, The Kyoto Shimbun.
Comment, distributed at the exhibition
Tiny things on the exhibition floor consist of picked-up objects, heritage items from my mother and objects given to my loved one.
The period of collection began in 1998. Places are: Niigata, Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka and Tottori. We have been experiencing a recollection every time when we come with them that are isolated from their original place.
As a small child, I was playing alone during the visits on outside places, and found these fallen objects — Rock candies, books, fragments of stained glass, a big, living turtle, these forgotten, various things. The days of confrontation with these items were for the child a moment of looking into its wonderful existence that belonged to nothing but all the more tied up to a certain remote place.
Since the day 3.11, se have been confronted with thoughts of loss more than once consciously but at the same time unconsciously. This condition is time to time perceived as a tactile sensation of a gaze, from the part of the life that is nearby and looking back onto us. This gaze of life is considered as coming from myself, or my own life who is living.
If the living “I” loves you, “I” becomes a whole that is nothing but fragmented organs. What is supporting this whole is an alien part, and each organ is corresponding to one beauty of the world. These are my meditations in 2011, with an impression that we are being picked up by the difference of sexes, life and death.
What is the Whole?
Kazushige SHINGU (psychiatrist)
As soon as we step in the space of Akiko Okada’s exhibition “I love you with all my organs”, we will be invited to ponder on the darkness of the space of our own memory.
Meanwhile, the scattered objects on the floor lit up by small penlights are shining as if each of them were a lump of memory.
We may wonder if our memory is originally such a lost object. Someone might have dropped it into the old space of my mind, though I myself cannot pick it up again. If anybody, it is the other who has picked it up.
Then, I must be watching the memory pieces that are nothing but myself through the eyes of somebody else. All of these lumps are me.
They are listening to the voices of “life” from the letters projected on the wall. The artist says that this space is composed of found objects, maternal heritages and items given to the loved one. It is just like the remembrance which comes to us in psychoanalysis concerns the speaking subject.
However, when the subject of remembrance reaches a certain point, it may become something other than itself. In effect, the space of the exhibition carries us to the perilous fundamental situation where the subject becomes a pure circle of life to be remembered, and finds itself as a dropped object that is waiting to be just picked up.