After writing the last volume of this column I visited the Yokohama Triennale twice. Takamine Tadasu’s (completed) piece "Kagoshima Esperanto" is as brilliant as expected, but the part that is most typical for this time’s Triennale is the Soi Project. A booth rather cheaply modeled after the image of a Bangkok back alley (="soi" in Thai) contains a flashy (yet somewhat shady) styled shooting saloon, and a casual bar hangout with breast-shaped cushions. Tum (aka Wisut Ponnimit) set up a labyrinth of doors painted with cartoons of a rather warm touch, some of which are quite moving. Like the hut Nara Yoshitomo + graf built out of scrap wood, the atmosphere in the plywood-surrounded space is extremely cozy.
This one is probably the contribution that reflected best the image I described last time in this column as a "school festival made by adults". Among mainstream art market-oriented professionals it is of course far from popular. It’s not the kind of artwork they expect from a statusy international art show, it is virtually unsalable - even in case it sells it will be dirt cheap- and it’s art-historical value is near zero (in the eyes of such professionals, mind you). But what is certain is that this is a typical pattern of expression in nowadays' young art scene, especially the Asian. These artists are middle class youths who grew up with TV, pop music and the Internet.
My impression of the CET 2005 (10/1-10), the "Central East Tokyo" festival that was held for the third time thie year, was almost the same as that of the Triennale. Staged in vacant buildings in the increasingly hollowed-out Kanda/Nihonbashi area in central Tokyo, CET distinguishes itself from the Triennale through its focus on design, but nobody would think strange if people brought the Soi Project here. Sure, there were a number of "adult" pieces on display too. In "Office Vacant", curated by Harada Yukiko, the likes of Paul Davis, Tsumura Kosuke and others filled an entire floor of an old yet massive, vacant building in the possession of the Mitsui conglomerate, with excellent works. Especially Alexander Gelman’s minimalistic installation and Enlightenment’s 3-D projection that makes the viewer feel as if floating are highly refined masterpieces. Most of the rest, however, did have more of a school festival…
Not that this is a bad thing, but the problem lies in the fact that works of a "school festival" level tended to dominate the event. Another example of a similar event would be "Japanese Contemporary Dance Media 2005", a show that is currently underway at the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography (through 11/13). Last year Tsuzuki Kyoichi published in his column in ART iT magazine a list of "The Worst 10 Exhibition Titles for 2004", and if he is going to do the same this year, this one is sure to be the "winner" (note from the editor: the Japanese exhibition title translates "More exciting than love: eisthesis of contemporary dance"). However, I'm not talking about the title here, but the installations by three popular Japanese dance companies in the 2F exhibition space. Nibroll, Strange Kinoko Dance co. and Condors show videos of their performances on unbalanced, matrix-like "stages" cluttered with what looks like accessories and used clothes. The whole thing doesn't look cheerless, but both image and production of the show are extrelemy childish.
Now you visit the museum, and while muttering, "I see, the Kinokos and Kondo Ryohei… hmmm, a fun event, isn't it", you'll climb down the stairs to the B1F space, and be totally stunned by "Rosas XXV1980-2005" (through 10/30). Chairs and shoes placed at the entrance will seize hold of your heart. Upon entering the exhibition space, you will marvel at eye-grabbing photos of outstanding scenes from Rosas' representative works. You can watch the films "analyzing the choreographic language of Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker" out of simple interest, but without a doubt you'll be more fascinated by the area in the centre of the room, covered with white sand.
If you look carefully you'll see on the sand (that looks a bit like a Sumo ring) projectied images of a dancer. It’s Anne Teresa herself, shot from overhead while dancing a solo piece to Steve Reich’s "Violin Phase". The dancer’s steps that are precise yet gradually loose the beat leave deep impressions in the sand, forming little by little a shape close to a perfect circle. While music and dance are progressing, a geometrical form is being created, while lines made before are being erased… Standing in front of this installation, I wasn't able to move until the dance (=the music) ended, remembering the French expression "intensite" that was once popular among those smart-alecky intellectuals we called "new aca(demian)".
To compare a dance company that looks back on a 25-year-long career and those with a career not half as not may be a little harsh. But it appears to me that it’s not only about time. I ask myself, isn't it rather because this country, and actually many other parts of Asia are in fact "kiddy land" sort of countries when it comes to culture? I don't feel like shrugging this off and say, "well, so what?" because I really think it’s a miserable state of affairs. But on the other hand it looks as if not only Asia, but the entire planet has entered a childish phase. The idea is giving me headaches…
Ozaki Tetsuya / Editor in chief / REALTOKYO