Toeko Tatsuno

Thoughts on Painting, 2004 (Tama Art University Bulletin [19])

1.

A painting can be likened to the human mind and body.

That is, while a person’s mind is invisible, the body, seen as a mirror that reflects his/her spiritual nature, is visible to the eye. If we were to suppose that the mind represents the theme of a painting, and the body represents the support on which one paints, the relationship between the two would become distorted if one is weaker than the other, or if one is ignored. The term “theme” in this case signifies a spatial recognition encompassing the images in the painter’s mind. A painting is produced on the assumption that it will become the best and most special encounter between the theme and the support. This is executed according to the logic of the painter’s own eyes, based on his/her archive of apt ideas that likely consists of hundreds or thousands of methods. Within the structure of painting that aims to convey the painter’s desires in the form of a theme, the object (the support) is expected to be able to accept those desires. Thus, it is desirable for the support to have a tough, flexible body that can meet every demand of the subject/mind. This, of course, is an extremely idealistic view.

If the method of production is neglected, the ideas will take precedence and reveal an unbalanced body/support. But if one overly gives into the method, then the work will lapse into falsehood. Thus, one must bear in mind that a method is strictly a means to lucidly express the theme.

Such a sense of balance is prominently found in modern paintings, which are realized through the painters’ extraordinary concentration. And in all ages, painters have faced the same problem of how they could best visualize their images on a two-dimensional plane.

I recently saw a collection exhibition at a commercial art museum, which ranged from modern to contemporary paintings. I was familiar with such a type of exhibition, but while most of the modern paintings were arranged on walls, I encountered more of a variety of new media artworks as the time period grew closer to the present. It is natural for artistic styles and modes of consciousness to become more diversified in accordance with the times. Thus, even though I am basically not keen on viewing new media artworks, I am able to enjoy them within a context that is different from mine. But then, the contemporary paintings I saw were problematic. That is, despite the fact that I was familiar with and fond of the works of the contemporary painters on exhibit, I felt to my surprise that something was lacking. In fact, every time I have seen this type of exhibition, both in Japan and abroad, I always have a similar hazy, uncertain feeling—this of course does not mean that all contemporary paintings look that way.

Indeed, when it comes to contemporary paintings that encompass wide-ranging forms, it is not as simple as judging whether their colors and forms are good or not. But despite my taking a closer look at those paintings at that show, I still saw the so-called “dustiness” drifting about them. It might have been that the colors had faded, or that the stains in the textures stood out more than the colors. I do not know whether or not those paintings had begun to lose their original radiance over the passage of only several decades. But if that difference I felt between the modern master paintings and the contemporary paintings was revealed due to their being exhibited in the same arena, then it is a serious problem that I myself must reflect upon.

2.

I have intermittently continued to give forms to the words “repetition and linkage,” seen as iconic images—that is, from the time I created graphic printworks in the early 1970s up until my present works. I did not initially aim to stylize those words, but reflecting on the history of my works (even though I am not a prolific artist), one finds that I have developed those ideas right up until today, as if I was inseparably adhered to them. The images of “repetition and linkage,” in the sense that existing forms are frequently connected in my works, strongly possess an aspect of artificiality. At every opportunity, I have referred to the origins of my primary images as being decorative forms and inorganic products.

One of my earliest works, UNTITLED-27, is a silkscreen on paper, the surface of which conveys a sense of flatness, or in today’s terminology, “superflat.” This was the first work in which I experimented with the idea of whether it was possible to merge my feelings toward an inorganic matter into a two-dimensional work that only utilized a limited number of elements. The surface plane manifested the sense of a slight layer of air. This derived from my overprinting hand-drawn lines, via making screens in parts from a continuation of grid patterns. This was a big achievement for me, for I had gained a way to keep the sense of illusion to a minimum.

During my college years, the period of art history that I felt closest to was post-war Modernist painting, produced in and out of Japan. This experience (not just for me but for any student who aspired to become a painter) was like a rite of passage that guided one to focus on the idea of “flatness” in painting. Being baptized by pure abstract art when young created a situation in which one would inevitably become sensitive toward an illusionistic expression, while also making it difficult for one to accept such an excessive expression. Focusing on “flatness” paradoxically leads one’s thoughts to deepen in regard to the dimensions of painting. Thus, one can say that taking such an ascetic attitude and consciously prescribing the method of expression are meaningful actions to a certain extent. For it became an important preparation period for me to take a step forward, away from the field of Modernist painting. Conspicuously found in my recent works is a transition toward the multidimensional nature of painting, as a result of my focusing on illusion. That is, I transformed the forms of the theme I depicted, which naturally influenced the entire painting space. If I were to be more specific about the images in my present paintings, they would include such features as the positional relationships and height differences between the depicted objects, their sense of unevenness and hollowness, and the use of unnatural light. My motifs derive from something akin to phenomena that occur in the process of involving myself with “objects” as they shift to “matters.” Because the interpretation of “illusion” can be broadened through the contents that are depicted, it is inevitable for a painter to reexamine such features. I hope that the chain of transformation in consciousness encompassing the depicted contents in their entirety can lead to a new sense of spatial value in the field of contemporary painting.

UNTITLED-27
1974 Screen print on paper 107 × 70 cm
Chiba City Museum of Art