9 Questions with Aomi Kikuchi
Aomi Kikuchi is a Japanese artist featured in Al-Tiba9 magazine ISSUE04, interviewed by Mohamed Benhadj.
Aomi Kikuchi is a Japanese creator of innovative fine arts. She is inspired by Buddha’s philosophies of impermanence, insubstantiality, and suffering in all life—referred to in Japanese as Mujo(無常), Muga (無我), and Ku,(苦). She raises awareness that acceptance of impermanence and insubstantiality can liberate from dissatisfaction or suffering. Her choice of materials and techniques are based on the recurring themes of finiteness and vulnerability. A Yuzen Kimono Dyeing professional, she has an intense obsession with silk fabrics but also works with other materials that have femininity and fragility such as fiber, goose down, and cotton flower. She holds a BFA from Kyoto University of Art and Design and an MFA from Pratt Institute.
Aomi, you are a New York-based artist, before talking about your art, could you tell us about yourself? What inspired you?
Japanese traditional aesthetic sense is often described using the words of wabi-sabi and monono-aware. Wabi-sabi finds a taste in something that is not perfect like admiring the tilted taste of a bamboo vase of tea utensils and a distorted tea bowl. Monono-aware is another emotion of pity; pity on various creatures and the activities of nature and has an affinity with the feeling of appreciating nature with the gaze of charity. These senses are comparable with the aesthetic of modern society, which emphasizes perfect, robust and confronts seeking eternity. I was born in a place named Marunouchi, which means it was once inside the moat of Ueno Castle in Iga-city. It is about 5 minutes from the birthplace of Matsuo Basho, a famous poet known for haiku, the shortest form of poetry in the world. He wrote haikus on monono-aware. My hometown is famous for the Ninja, the Japanese silk braid used for the armor, the sword, the boxes for tea utensils and kimono bands. Iga-yaki ceramics have been used for the tea ceremony, which emphasized wabi-sabi. I was familiar with the multi-colored beautiful silk threads at home as my aunt did piecework of braid making. I wrote haiku and made Iga-yaki ceramics in my elementary classes. The hilly park around Ueno Castle has cherry blossoms in spring, fresh green in summer, red leaves in autumn, and desolate atmosphere in winter. Born and raised in such unique culture and rich nature, I have naturally acquired Japanese aesthetic senses. I've always been creative since childhood, but it took me a long time before I realized that I am an artist. Although I was not aware of my artistic nature, I learned the basics of painting, which include Western painting, Japanese painting, and calligraphy. As for techniques of ceramic art, I practiced pottery making, painting on porcelain, bisque dolls, and glass work. Starting from the technique of Yuzen Kimono dyeing, which is the highest form of dyeing technique, I acquired general dyeing skills such as tie-dye, wax, stencil, silk screen, and natural dye. I also acquired skills of dressmaking, fashion design, machine knitting, hand knitting, lace, Japanese braid, Japanese embroidery, weaving and spinning.
When I was 39, I entered Kyoto University of Art and Design where I studied academic art for the first time. The professors treated me as a professional artist, not as a college student. During my school days, I organized a plant dyeing research group named Cochineal with my professors. We had group exhibitions of research presentations every year at museums in Tokyo and Kyoto. After graduating, I started to work in dyeing competitions for craft artists and became a member of the Japan Contemporary Arts and Crafts Association. At the crafts exhibition, there was a tendency not to display kimonos, and in accordance with this, I started to make panel works using silk fabric. From that time on, my work gradually departed from craft and moved on to fine art.
After seeing Miami Art Week in 2014, I decided to start my career in earnest as an artist and came to New York the following April. After several solo exhibitions at galleries, including the Consulate General of Japan in New York, I entered the Pratt Institute's MFA to improve my language skills and learn more contemporary art. In graduate school, I studied with an emphasis on the skills required for professional artists, such as aesthetics, art criticism, artist as curator, and professional practice. By studying at graduate school, I reaffirmed my mission as an artist to produce works that can contribute to improving the world to be a better place. My work is always based on my artist statement, Buddha's preaching “Understanding and accepting the impermanence and insubstantiality of this world can liberate us from dissatisfaction and suffering''. By understanding impermanence and insubstantiality, we realize that this moment is an important moment that will never return. Having a mindful life without sticking to the past or having an endless desire for the future, is what I advocate through my work.
Your Japanese identity is strongly present in your artistic expression. What else inspired you?
My work is often inspired by the material. I have been dealing with various materials. I treated various types of fabrics for dressmaking. I used paper and canvas for oil paintings and Japanese paintings, and clay for bisque dolls and ceramics. However, having learned Yuzen dyeing, a traditional Japanese craft, I was completely captivated by silk. I have used only silk not only for kimonos, but also for panel works. In order to express my artist statement, the impermanence, ephemerality and fragility of this world, I began to use fragile and ephemeral materials such as extremely thin silk organza/ gauze, water-soluble glue, goose down, cotton, and glass. When I work with extremely thin silk organza/ gauze, they excite my heart, which I never felt using materials such as blank paper or canvas. When I contact the material, various ideas come out. For instance, I made spider webs from frayed organza threads. I want to continue to use exciting materials to create something that no one has seen yet, a world where people can be fascinated, surprised, and enjoy.
Photo courtesy Aomi Kikuchi©
My artist statement itself is also the source of my creation. I often use goldfish and peony flowers as motifs, not just because I think they are beautiful. Goldfish have been bred and have unnecessarily large eyes, stomachs, and fins by humans seeking more beautiful and rare things. Ornamental flowers including Peony have also been improved to bloom larger. Flowers of fruits and vegetables are small. The original purpose of flowers is to bloom in order to bear fruit and to connect life, but if nutrients are taken to bloom the huge flowers, it will not be possible for the flower to bear fruit. Human desires create suffering not only for themselves but also for these creatures and plants. I use frogs, moths, mosquitoes and even molds as motifs and carefully shape them because Buddha argues that living things are equally important. It may not be anything but human ego to dismiss life as a pest or a bug just for human convenience. Substances including our body can not be eternal and looking around this world with eyes of mercy, I find motifs from anywhere around me.
How would you describe your artistic approach today?
I've been working with different approaches based on my artist statement: Understanding and accepting impermanence, insubstantiality of all life can liberate us from suffering. For fabric work, with kimono dyeing as the point of departure, I burned silk organza with incense sticks to create openwork patterns. On layered silk organza and silk gauze, I dyed motifs including human figures, animals and plants, which I installed with spatial intervals to create three-dimensional and hologram effects. In my work using water soluble glue, I put it in a squeeze bottle and made strokes of Chinese character “苦：Suffering.” I injected Sumi Ink with a syringe in the strokes and connected them with making another stroke Suffering and created tapestries. The glue was also used in making cotton soft sculptures. I used lace making techniques to create spider webs, and recently I made insects with embroidery techniques using materials such as cotton flowers, raw silk thread, wire, and goose down.
When I was only dyeing kimonos, I had wanted to demonstrate the preciousness of living in this world by conveying the beauty of animals and plants. However, I gradually realized that it was more important to raise awareness of Buddha’s philosophy about the impermanence and insubstantiality of all life. This idea is unpleasant, but this negative fact of the world is more meaningful than celebrating beauty. Understanding and accepting Buddha’s philosophy can ease human suffering, which might lead people to live a mindful life. In addition to expressing the fragility and ephemerality of this world, I consider the love of mercy that also Buddha preached. So my choice of subject matter changed from “beautiful” creatures and plants to things that we often avoid in our lives as being “unpleasant” and “disgusting.”
Since last October, I have been a member of the Textile Arts Center residency. As a part of the curriculum, I have had opportunities to take classes on silkscreen, machine knitting, weaving, spinning, and natural dyeing. Incorporating some of these new techniques into my work, I tried to make a machine-knit kimono. The kimono is traditionally made using a woven fabric in Japan. Some American artists made knitted kimonos in the 1960s to 70s. I see their works have a kimono shape but as sushi in the US is not “authentic” for Japanese people, I assume that those works are artwork inspired by Japanese kimonos. My approach using a knitting machine might be the same as American artists. Anyway, the organic nature of knitted fabric that stretches and curls gives me a different mode of inspiration compared to perfectly woven silk fabric exclusively for dyeing kimono. The silk fabric for kimono dyeing has dignity and rigidness that does not allow one stain. Therefore, I have always handled it with great care so as not to stain. On the contrary, I will use the knitted kimono to explore impermanence, insubstantiality, and suffering. I am experimenting with burning it with incense, corroding it with alkali or acid, dyeing it with bacteria, growing mold on it, and burying it in soil. We want to avoid stains and corrosion, but I wonder if intentional stains and corrosion could be another form of dyeing and cut work. This project is also a critical response to the decline of Japanese kimono culture by degrading kimonos. In addition, I am trying to incorporate crafted elements mimicking spider webs, moths, and molds. Natural fibers are clothing for humans but habitats for mold, or food and shelter for hiding or laying eggs for moths. I want people to consider how insects and molds that are killed by pesticides and fungicides are also irreplaceable life in this world.
Your work questions finiteness and vulnerability. Tell us about the importance of the material used in your sculptures and installations?
Materials are very important for my work. I use cotton fiber, goose down, extremely thin silk organza/gauze, extra-fine fibers, water-soluble glue, and fading dye to express fragility and finiteness. I make sculptures with white cotton fiber, conscious that white marble is the traditional material of sculpture. Since my sculptures use water-soluble glue, they gradually lose their shape with humidity. Dyed works do not retain their color the way acrylic and oil paintings do. They will gradually fade if they continue to be exposed to light. Goose down floats in the air with my breathing during production, and escapes if I try to catch it. Extra-fine fibers such as raw silk is almost invisible and require more delicate handling than touching a baby. By creating my work on the border between the presence and absence of matter, I want viewers to realize that even fragile objects have substance. I want them to easily imagine that my fragile objects will not last forever. I accept impermanence by making my work, and I would like to share with viewers the importance of experiencing this.
Photo courtesy Aomi Kikuchi©
You are a fashion designer, and you have a professional Yuzen Kimono Dyeing skill with over twenty-five years of career. Please tell our readers about the importance of spirituality in your artistic production.
There is a proverb in China that new insights are gained by studying the past. The idea is that it is important to study the knowledge and skills left behind by ancestors in order to create new perspectives and ideas. However, most disciplines have conventions that have been practiced for many years, so it is not easy to go beyond those boundaries. People who do not have that knowledge may sometimes produce ideas and objects freely without awareness of limitations. Sometimes accumulated knowledge, skills and experiences create a solid shell called “ common sense,” which hinders new ideas. Conflict with these restrictions and oppressions are agonizing , but I think they are important for creating works that cultivate one’s distinctive world.
Tell us about how and why you ended up with the result that please you?
The best thing as an artist is when I am able to fully express my intentions in the work.
What do you find most challenging about textiles? Are you interested in live textile sculpture? Maybe a fashion show?
I am always interested in live textile sculptures and fashion shows as a way to present my work. That is because I began by making kimonos that could be considered fashionable garments. Unlike conventional flat paintings, the kimono is three-dimensional and more playful in space. When displaying textiles, I prefer hanging them from the ceiling because I value how cloth flickers in the air, which it could not do when framed and hanging on the wall. However, it is not always possible to control how my work is displayed in a gallery or museum exhibit, so my intentions are not always communicated. Another difficulty is preparing textile for exhibitions. Since it is compactly folded or rolled for transportation, it is necessary to stretch the wrinkles of the cloth before display.
Can you give an example of an artwork that you have made that you feel is especially successful, technically and spiritually?
The work Moment (2017.) It uses my mother's wedding photo as a motif and was my first portrait work. My mother died at the age of 37. Even though we could have shared 9 years together, my mother chose to live with her boyfriend and left me with my grandmother to raise me. She made me feel alone and caused me to suffer a lot even after her death. Making the work Moment was having a silent conversation with my mother, a process of forgiving her.
In the wedding picture, the man standing next to my mother seemed gentle and honest. His expressions make me wonder why she broke up with him. Perhaps my mother was just a selfish woman. Yet, my mother gave birth even though she risked worsening her chronic kidney disease. She also made a big commitment to become a single mother. Now my daughter is approaching the age of my mother when she died. I feel as if I am becoming mother to my mother and just sympathize with the fact that she had a short and harsh life. I forgive all the suffering she caused me. In three layers of translucent organza, through delicate and meticulous design with vivid colors dyed with the Yuzen method, my mother and her partner exist like an illusion floating in the air beyond time and space. I believe that I expressed my intentions successfully.
Any project that we will be able to see soon?
As mentioned above, I am currently working on a project to produce then degrade knitted kimonos in order to challenge the boundaries between dyeing and staining, cutwork and rag. I am planning to apply chemicals and various methods to explore impermanence, insubstantiality, and suffering. I am excited to do a lot of experimental work for this project. They will be exhibited at the residency’s final show in September. I am also working on a goldfish series. I have been producing three-layered organza works which developed from Yuzen methods by using natural dye. This is a project based on the Gion Festival in Kyoto. I am incorporating Chino-wa, which are large rings set up at the festival’s shrine gates. Worshipers at the shrine pass through the ring as an act of purification from misdeeds (tsumi), impurities (kegare), or bad luck. My Chino-wa consist of the @ sign, # tag and ♡ like. Our lives and communication are no longer separable from these three marks, and they are a convenience and a source of various social distortions. In an “attention economy,” which is filled with information mingled with fake news, we are desperately trying to keep up and are getting exhausted. The image of a goldfish diving through the chino-wa ring indicates that getting through the information society held captive by the spells of these marks, which create sin and dirt sometimes unconsciously and sometimes intentionally. I hope viewers can envision relief from the addiction and suffering that comes from keeping watch over smartphones as if they were a charm that we cannot imagine letting go of for even one second. This project will be exhibited at Art Expo New York in April.
Working with the theme of “infinity,” I have started a new series of dyed works that use natural dyes and mordants to transfer the shapes of objects around us, including waste materials such as petals and shredded paper, into an infinity sign. In one work, the shape of infinity is constructed using petals from roses my daughter gave me on my birthday. Based on the Buddhist idea that there is no eternity in this world, I create the infinity sign in a way that denies infinity. Yet, I affirm infinity in the sense that even as each life ends its own existence, it will pass life onto the next generation. Material will also change form and continue to exist. The work will be exhibited at the Japan Contemporary Arts and Crafts Association exhibition at the Tokyo Metropolitan Art Museum in April.
