One of the centerpieces of this trip to Japan was to go visit some of the Art Islands in the Seto Inland Sea. Over the years, we had seen photos of colorful public art in remote settings as well as photos of famous architect Tadao Ando’s distinctive buildings. Our friends have visited this area before and graciously recommended that we go together.
We visited Naoshima, Teshima and Shodoshima. (“Shima” means island in Japanese. In English writeups, we see “Naoshima Island” often, which is really Nao Island Island. In this post, we’ll try to keep the Islands from doubling.)
Our journey started with a ferry ride from the big city of Takamatsu. The transit took only about an hour, but it was just right to shed urban distractions.
The ferry pulled into the little harbor on the west side of Naoshima. The old fishing village lined the shore, a jumble of modest and utilitarian houses and buildings.
But at the end of the pier, like candy on a tongue, a red polka-dotted squash said hello. This is the work of artist Yayoi Kusama who has made a career out of polka dots.
Across the intimate harbor, a diaphanous crystal floated on a jetty. This is Naoshima Pavilion by Sou Fujimoto.
It’s even more charming once you climb aboard.
In between, a bit more modestly, sits Bunrakku Puppet by José de Guimarães.
Across the island, on the east side, there’s another little harbor named Honmura, and more unlikely objects. Such as this pavilion at the Naoshima Port Terminal by SANAA — which is also bike parking.
From the moment we arrived at the ferry pier, we knew that this wasn’t a typical destination: There were more foreigners than Japanese. It was as if we’d been transported to some arty place in Europe. What must the local folks think of all this? Great for tourist monies? Noisy disruptive nuisance? Both?
How did this modest island come to host public art like this, along with quite a few other art installations such as the Art House Projects and the Benesse Art Site — which we had come expressly to experience? Here are some notes about the origins of these art islands:
According to Ryoji Kasahara, chairman of Naoshima Cultural Village Co., Ltd.:
Benesse Art Site Naoshima began with a meeting between two men in 1985. Tetsuhiko Fukutake, founder and president of the powerhouse Fukutake Publishing … and Chikatsugu Miyake, mayor of Naoshima Town, came together to share their dreams for the islands. Mayor Miyake dreamed of developing the southern part Naoshima into a hub for cultural tourism, while Tetsuhiko Fukutake dreamed of a spot on the Seto Inland Sea where youth from all over the world could gather…
In 1992, the now-famous Benesse House opened. Benesse, or well-being, is the motto of Benesse Company, and our goal was to think of what that meant apart from the business. It was (and is) a place for contemplation, but through art rather than just nature….
Nature was the first experiment, with the International Camp. But contemporary art raises different questions and lines of thinking. After all, contemporary artists live in the same day and age as us. The artists take what they have felt and what they want to tell, and then use art to bring our attention to these things. What do we, who live in the same age, take away from the art? What do we see in it? Nature falls short with asking these modern questions, but art—that can give you something, a ‘spirit message,’ for you to take home.
We also wanted works of art that were unique to Naoshima—works you could only truly experience here; works that were nowhere else. You can always purchase works that have already been made, but we wanted something more.
Outdoor art is an important part, and it is critical that it be unified with where it exists. The Benesse House building was constructed by Tadao Ando to unify with the artworks inside. Yayoi Kusama’s Yellow Pumpkin (constructed in 1994), built on the seashore, remains our most representative sculpture….
I know that every person who comes here and remarks on the good time they had helps build up the pride of the islanders. What were originally unremarkable islands have become something truly extraordinary through art.
(source)
After noting these obvious public-art pieces, we sought out the Art Houses of Honmura. These are old nondescript houses where artists have been invited to intervene.
As recounted by Ryoji Kasahara, chairman of Naoshima Cultural Village Co., Ltd.:
After Benesse House and various outdoor art projects, we kept thinking about what site-specific meant. What things were unique to Naoshima? Nature and scenery are perhaps the most obvious, but what about the people living there? Their culture, their history? We always heard islanders say things like ‘there’s nothing here.’ And yet, there is something here. Naoshima Island isn’t even a footnote in history, but the people who live there have their own varied history that comes through their lives and stories over the years. That can never be replicated.
We wanted to show this unique history and culture to visitors, and so we took on the challenge of art in town—specifically, Honmura on the east side of the island. That challenge was the Art House Project we started in 1998. The project fused older houses and contemporary art, as a way to pique visitors’ interest in the area. Residents, too, became re-aware of where they lived, of the worth and beauty of the town.
When we planned our first Art House, Kadoya, voices were calling for the abandoned homes to be torn down. But we thought—wouldn’t keeping them be more interesting? None of them are noteworthy cultural artifacts, but they help recall an older Japan that is slowly disappearing. Our hope is that these empty houses function as signposts to this vanishing lifestyle, and that their transformation into art remind us of past ways of living.
(source)
Despite the seemly quiet little village, other art groupies like us had been busy buying up tickets to the Art Houses. We did manage to arrange a few visits. Such as:
Gokaisho: The name Gokaisho (literally “place to play go”) is derived from the long-ago custom of the islanders gathering here to play the game of go. Yoshihiro Suda converted the structure into an art space, and his work Tree of Spring, inspired by the work Falling Camellia by Hayami Gyoshu, is displayed within. An actual five-colored camellia is planted in the garden, creating a contrastive effect with Suda’s camellia inside. ※
Kadoya: Kadoya was the first building in the Art House Project to be completed. The house was constructed roughly 200 years ago, and it was restored to its original appearance with a stucco finish, smoked cedar boards, and traditional roof tiles. The townspeople of Naoshima participated in the creation of the work Sea of Time ’98 by Tatsuo Miyajima. This work also served as an opportunity to interject modern art into the lives of the islanders and the local area. ※ When we visited, an installation called Sea of Time ’98 by Tatsuo Miyajima filled the traditional interior. Sea of Time ’98 includes 125 digital LED counters. The pace of each counter was set by an island resident.
While most of the installations we visited were subtle, the one called Haisha was not. Boisterous, we’d say.
Haisha: Haisha, meaning “dentist”, was once the home and office of a dentist, and Shinro Ohtake converted the entire building into a work of art. The house incorporates an eclectic array of stylistic elements, appearing in some places like a sculpture, in others like a painting, and in still others like a collage or scrapbook. The title of the work, Dreaming Tongue, represents the process of holding something in one’s mouth and recalling a dream by retracing the taste and scent. ※
Visiting the installations was a pleasure, in no small part because we were exploring with our friends. Some of the installations were quite engaging; they’re the kind of art work that makes you go, “Wow. I haven’t experienced that before. Interesting.” These are examples of what only artists can do: Find a “simple” idea, a honed concept that needs dedication and cleverness to realize, and bring it in the “normal” world. “Simple” and “normal” are actually very complex.
We also visited the Ando Museum in Honmura, the Benesse House Museum, and the Lee Ufan Museum; and we stayed the night in The Oval of Benesse House. Tadao Ando designed all these places. We are dedicating the next blog post to Mr Ando and these places.
So let’s take a short ferry ride to the nearby island of Teshima. There we found the surprising Teshima Museum.
We were excited to have the chance to visit the Teshima Museum. We’d seen photos of the low-slung white organic form in the landscape. Seemed like interesting minimalist architecture. But it turns out that the architecture is only a small part of the wonder of this place.
From the ticket pavilion, we followed a pleasant winding path around and through a copse. All the plants used here are indigenous weeds growing on Teshima, so that the museum becomes part of the environment of the Karato area.
Nice views out to the inland sea popped through the trees.
As we arrived at a little foldable tent at the open entrance to the main building, it started to rain. A staff person whispered to us to remove our shoes before entering the pavilion, and to remain quiet. He emphasized that the art in the museum is extremely delicate, and that we must be careful.
(Alas, photography was not allowed within the pavilion. We have to rely on what’s available online. ※ ※ )
We stepped into the space. It’s about 40 by 60 meters in extent, about 4.5 meters tall in the middle. The floor and gently curving ceiling are white. A couple of large oval openings reveal the sky, but solid roof covers most of the space.
Other visitors milled around in the space, and many sat here and there in the large space. There were only a few dozen visitors. The atmosphere felt like a temple or meditation hall.
We walked slowly. We started noticing that there were wet spots on the floor. Perhaps not surprising given the large ceiling openings and the rainy weather of the day. Not wanting to get our socks wet, we chose our path carefully.
Then we noticed that in some places, tiny rivulets of water were creeping along, like mercury. They shimmered in the dim white light. They seemed alive, like little baby metal snakes. They were all heading toward a few larger shallow puddles.
The more we looked, the more we found tiny pinholes through which drops and dribbles of water emerged from beneath the floor. That was the art of the place. Delicate slow emergence of drops of water. They almost came alive, like simple primitive sea creatures, oblivious to us lumbering land folks.
It was very surprising how something so conceptually simple could transform the space into a very quiet mystical place. We went from conventionally curious to childlike wonder.
Ryue Nishizawa designed the structure. Rei Naito is the artist who created the water experience.
October 2023