Space, Art, Architecture

Interview by Jonathan Goodman
, 2005.05

Questions for Yumi Kori

1. Please give the details of where you were born and educated.

See attached CV and narrative CV.

2. You were trained as an architect at Columbia University, and you continue to work on architectural projects, but most recently you have been moving in the direction of fine art. What is the relation between your art and your architecture?

Architecture can be viewed from many aspects. Therefore when I create architecture, I consider every aspect, such as functionality, structural stability, sustainability, cost, safety, maintenance accessibility, and so on. I also consider the future of the building. The requirements placed upon the architectural work—and its users’ expectations toward that work—will change over time. Flexibility for future uses has to be built into the work.

Moreover, I think about not only the physical or practical side of architecture, but the psychological effect of architecture. Architecture invites inhabitants to participate in a unique spatial experience and aesthetic pleasure that affects their feelings and their perception of the world. I create space that seeks to evoke an experience beyond conventional function.

My artworks are one sort of architecture. They usually have exterior and interior space and viewers are invited to enter the piece and explore. Visiting the spaces I have created affects viewers’ perception through vision, sound and touch. Thus the spaces provide a unique sensory experience, just as my architectural projects do.

3. You have spent a lot of time in New York City; how does living in New York compare with the great cities of Japan? How has New York directly influenced your art?

In Tokyo, individual matters look chaotic in the cityscape, however everything seems to have some sort of pre-established harmony.

In New York, everything looks vivid. Each person and each object in the city seems to have a unique personal space. Thus, the city itself becomes a big three-dimensional collage. Tension and the physiological collision are created between the objects and also between the people. Therefore, my reality seems constantly reframed by the effect of differentiation. New York gives me opportunities to look at reality differently. Beyond that, I do not know how New York influences my art. But I can say that New York encourages me to create art.

4. Much of your art is installation in nature. How do you feel about installation art? Does it relate in any way to architecture, or to the mirrored rooms of Yasoi Kusama? What kind of a feeling do you want the viewer to have?

Architecture is by nature a site-specific installation. It cannot ignore the geography, climate, and cultural context of the land. By the installation of architecture, the site is transformed into new environment. Thus it provides a new spatial experience for its inhabitants.

By the same measure, most of my artwork is site-specific. I create artworks by installing elements in an existing site; through the installation, site is transformed into new environment. My intervention reframes the reality of the site and changes the inhabitants’ spatial perception. Invisible elements in the existing site become visible; other visible elements become invisible. Consequently, visitors / inhabitants to my art installation are invited to explore new space. My installation -art is thus a kind of architecture.

I don’t know Kusama’s work well, so I can’t offer a full comparison, but most of her installation work seems very different from my own. Even though the result might appear similar on the surface, I think that our aesthetic foundations are entirely dissimilar. She seems interested in creating a new spatial object as a representation of her imaginary world, or perhaps she is creating an artificial environment as her expression. Her installations strike me as life-size sculpture or interior design. My artwork is a kind of a framing device of the world and therefore, it works as architecture. I am interested in intervening at an existing site, reframing its reality, and transforming it into something else.

5. Is there such a thing as a Japanese esthetic? Or does Japanese mind blend in with the international style so many contemporary artists use today? Do you want to be seen as a Japanese artist?

Japan is a small group of islands that shares no border with another country, yet at the same time its cities are, of course, part of the global landscape. The “Japanese esthetic” has been always to some degree manipulated or fantasized by eyes from outside Japan. I cannot help being Japanese. I was born in Japan. I am sure people think that I am a Japanese artist.

6. Many of your projects feel meditative in nature. What kind of contemplative involvement do you want from your audience? Is meditation something you practice yourself?

I studied yoga and meditation in India. I stayed in a Buddhist monastery for one month and sat and meditated 14 hours per a day. During the last 20 days, I stayed in a small cell that was about 3 feet by 7 feet and had no windows. While I was sitting in that dark cell, I sometimes lost the feeling of the boundary between my body and the room; I felt only my heartbeat and the rhythm of my breathing. The vibration of my body became one with the atmosphere; my body dissolved into the air and became transparent. Through those practices, I experienced a harmonious flow between my mind and my body and the world.

I would like to evoke something of this meditative state through my work. In the state of contemplative mind, people absorb reality through all their senses. Subtle changes become visible and every moment becomes vivid. Relinquishing a judgmental mind allows the contemplative consciousness to frame and reframe the world. I create art projects that help the viewer experience the reality this way.

In Defragmentation red, each moment was visualized by counting the red lights. Lights were discovered only one at a time, and the lights unfolded space successively. In the dark, underground, disused water- reservoir, visitors were invited to become a part of the flow.

In Machina Temporis, the spatial threshold of a twelfth-century Franciscan monastery became visible by means of scrims installed in place of the arches destroyed by WWII bombing; the movement of the visitor enhanced this threshold experience. By crawling down under each scrim successively, one unfolded spaces, and lived a precious moment.

In Defragmentation Krems, an installation of 1,400 clear balloons framed the environment within the cellar of Austria’s Minoriten Church Kapitelsaal to reflect multiple layers of reality. In this installation, the inhabitant was invited to travel from one perspective to another by gazing at each balloon. I applied this method to Inifinitation , my new installation at COCA, center of contemporary art Seattle.

7. Please explain the treatment of light in your sculptures and environments, making sure that you comment on two or three actual pieces of your own.

I use light in 4 different ways.

1. Light as ever-changing Nature

Kou-in, literally “light and shadow” in Japanese, means time. Light and shadow change constantly and are always in motion. I frame light with my art and architecture to visualize the flow of time.

In Panta Rhei at Maison Hermes Tokyo, 2002, I installed gravel on the gallery floor and raked it to make a wavy pattern. The gravel that I chose was coincidently same kind of stone as Ryoan-ji Temple in Kyoto. The color of the gravel was white, but it also contained gradations of gray, so the light and shadows were captured elegantly within it. The pattern of the raked gravel also reflected subtle changes of light and shadow. Moreover, during the night hours, the neon from outside projected spilled onto the gravel to show another side of Tokyo’s nature.

In House of Shadow, a residence in Tokyo built in 2002, the passage of light and shadow is framed through architecture. Subtle changes of light manifest themselves in settings such as a lattice screen, a pergola, and a water garden; these changes are further captured on ink-colored walls and dark silver floor tiles. The charcoal color stucco wall is hand-scraped with a small stripe pattern to capture light and shadow within. The pattern of light also changes depending on the weather, and thus the appearance of the architecture changes over of time to become one with the atmosphere. Space exists between light and shadow, within the flow of time. Architecture itself becomes ever-changing Nature.

2. Light as intangible architectural material

Light is intangible, but it has a potential to be used as material for building architecture-creating space. In Spaced out, the stage set at Dance Theatre Workshop, New York 2002, I attempted to use light in this way. 4 rectangular shaped lights were individually projected on the backdrop screen to create white stripes. 4 stage lights were also projected on 4 scrim panels individually. I installed 4 white dance-floor sheets onto the black dance floor to continue the stripe pattern. The light projections, scrim panels, and striated floor patterns created a light-based architecture that sustained the illusion of spatial boundaries. As addition, the ambient color light was added from behind the backdrop, and also from the ceilings to floor to create atmosphere.

3. Light as induction materials for activity

Human beings have an instinctive tendency to move towards light, and I try to take advantage of this instinct in my work. For example, in Defragmentation, red light columns were used as a device to keep people moving forward. When the visitors went into the dark, gradually they started to see the red light-shadow in the far distance. They started to walk towards light and as they passed by, discovered the lights successively.

4. Light as a passage to transcend the measurable world

In Machina Temporis, which I mentioned earlier, light from a high window created a passage to the spiritual world. As visitors walk through the space, they were invited to go beyond the layer of everyday life. Another example: Portable Infinity Device is a handheld device that encloses a series of small “doorways” that gather light from the environment. The action of light within this series of frames evokes a sense of infinity, of something beyond human apprehension.

8. How do you see the future of art? Do you think it is moving in a general direction, or do you think the artworld is too pluralistic to be generalized about?

I have no idea.

9. Please mention any artist who have influenced your art, and if so, how they have done that.

The first time I saw the work of Fred Sandback at the DIA center, I was totally impressed by its simplicity. His use of thin string in the gallery to suggest a wall plane and create a boundary was remarkable; that minimal element transformed the architectural space in the gallery. I was also impressed by the interactive characteristic of his installation. The string formed a surface plane only when viewed from certain directions; when viewed from other perspectives, it was just a piece of string. The wall appeared and disappeared depending on the position of the viewer. Sandback’s work gave me an opportunity to realize the uncertainty of my perception and existence. I was inspired to build architecture without using hard materials.

10. Many of your pieces are accompanied by sound. Why do you use sound in your art, and what does it mean to you?

I think that music and architecture are very similar. Both create space and environment; both have to be experienced over time. In music, the space between sounds is as important as the sound itself. In architecture, space between columns or walls is as important as the actual architectural materials themselves. In my work, I want to bring these two kinds of notions of space into dialogue; I wanted to create a hybrid space that was woven from sound and physical material.

Thanks,
Jonathan Goodman (718.432.1900)