I heard that P-House is back on the scene, so I went to the new space on Roppongi’s TV Asahi Dori to see what the P-House folks are up to. P-House first opened in the '90s as a gallery in Shibuya, and shortly after that moved to Ebisu. Until around 2000 the gallery/cafe was showing solo exhibitions of the likes of Odani Motohiko and Tachibana Hajime, as well as performances of all sorts. Looking back on P-House’s activities now I realize that it was a particular culture spot that functioned as a kind of alternative space back then. The new venue was opened with an event titled "A..ya ……zu Exhibition Va…..ng …nt", which when completed would read "Ameya Norimizu Exhibition Vanishing Point". This is without a doubt this year’s most controversial work/exhibition (through 8/21). http://www.phouse-web.com/

The gallery on the B2 floor is rather spacious, and with perfectly white walls it looks a bit like a factory for high-precision instruments. What catches the visitor’s eyes first upon descending the stairway is a cube - again perfectly white - of about 2 metres height. At first glance is looks like an ordinary box, but inside turns out to be something quite amazing. It’s Ameya Norimizu, the artist himself, who locked himself in the cube for the entire 24-day period of his exhibition, and reportedly didn't leave it a single time.

According to a description displayed in the gallery, the "contents" of the cube was as follows: "A..ya ……zu / 1 ventilation fan 2.5W / 2 litres mineral water per day / 100g salt / 300g sugar / 90g multi-vitamin powder / Ensure Liquid enteral nutrient (1 can = 250kcal per day + 12 cans reserve) / 4 cotton blankets / 6 T-shirts / 6 underpants / 1 jersey set / 6 towels / 2 90-litre plastic buckets / 6 90-litre garbage bags / 1 bucket for defecation / 24 plastic bags for defecation / 4 urine pads per day / 6 ziploc bags (for urine or garbage) per day / 500ml disinfectant ethanol / 3 boxes wet tissues / 24 boxes regular tissue paper / 1 pair of earplugs / 1 nailclipper / 1 screwdriver / packing tape (1 roll)"

"Faceless passport photos" posted by visitors

Ameya reportedly communicated with the outside world only through knocking, but never used his voice. Visitors who sent Ameya a "knock-knock" via the cube’s wall sooner or later got a "knock-knock" back from him. There was always some staff staying overnight in the gallery, but even at night there was no verbal exchange. The day I visited the place was Ameya’s 12th day in the box, and according to the gallery staff he "seemed to be doing fine so far". But still, that daily can of Ensure Liquid had only 250kcal, and even if you add the sugar we're still lightyears away from the 1800-2500kcal a grown-up person needs per day.

As we can guess from the title "Vanishing Point", the act of "disappearing" is supposedly the piece’s theme. It reminds one of the so-called "sokushinbutsu", Buddhist priests who choose to "extinguish" (or, actually mummify) themselves in a whole in a permanent state of meditation. Or, if you're familiar with old manga you might know Masaki Mori’s "Kiba no monsho" (1972), in which the protagonist locks himself up in a pitch-dark, sealed room in one scene. The exhibition title, and the sometimes incomplete text by Sawaragi Noi, who participated together with musician Otomo Yoshihide, hint also at Tsutsui Yasutaka’s novel "Zanzo ni kuchibeni wo" (Lipstick for the After Image, 1989), in which the 50 Japanese kana syllables disappear one by one as the story advances. There was also a novel by exceptional pianist Valery Afanassiev, titled "La Disparition" (1983), dealing with "disappearing" due to an HIV infection.

"Car still owned by a dead man"

Ameya Norimizu joined kara Juro’s Jokyo Gekijo (Situation Theatre) in 1978, and founded Tokyo Grand-Guignol in 1984. After collaborating with the likes of Mikami Seiko in the late '80s, in the '90s he created artworks using bodily fluid, mold and other materials. Later he opened a pet shop dealing with rare animals. What has been consistent about Ameya’s activities to date is the focus on life and living matter. The text Ameya himself posted on the P-House Website can be interpreted as if the collapse of the World Trade Center on 9.11 was one motive behind this work, but I suppose that, deep inside his mind some sort of instinctive desire, or maybe an inquisitive spirit, has been existing in direct connection with his creative work long before 9.11. Apart from the examples I listed above, artworks and other forms of artistic expressions that fully face this topic in our time are extremely few. I hope that Ameya comes out there alive and kicking this weekend.