Signed in as:
filler@godaddy.com
Signed in as:
filler@godaddy.com
Photos from the future tense solo exhibition. My works are usually a 'Constellation' creating layers of fun and humorous yet poetic and thought provoking voice.
Creating assemblages with overlooked or forgotten plastics, I co-create forms with the materials, using only balance. I treat plastics not as waste, but as active participants in an ongoing dialogue between nature and culture. Informed by the Mono-ha movement of the 1970s and contemporary theories like Object-Oriented Ontology (OOO), I contemporaries explorations of materiality and the space between the natural and the artificial. Through material play, live action, and the reinterpretation of historical or scientific references, I construct hybrid realms that blur the boundaries between artificial and natural, human and non-human.
My works usually consist of layered pieces that respond to responses, or reactions to reactions. The set of photos here is a reaction to my painting, which itself was a reaction to a 1930s photograph of performers wearing Bauhaus-influenced costumes on stage, taken during the era when the Chrysler Building became the world's tallest building. In the painting, a solitary, worried-looking frog represents nature, and I’ve altered the headgear from the original photo, replacing it with modern, taller buildings. The costume responds to the painting, and the nature-inspired headgear suggests an alternative relationship with nature. The work is both fun and humorous, yet poetically thought-provoking.
I believe that art has the power to heal, inspire, and transform. My goal as an artist is to create work that not only looks beautiful, but also resonates with the viewer on a deeper level. I adopt an artistic approach not to simply show my experiences to the viewer, but to create works that offer opportunities for self-discovery—encouraging the viewer to experience the act of discovery and notice the unnoticed.
The Japanese tree frog,
small and vibrant,
wears a green as bright as the rush of rice plants in the rainy season—
as if it mirrors the world around it.
Its song, once a playful chatter,
could swell and echo through the night,
but I never minded.
To me, it was joyful—
a lullaby that cradled my childhood sleep.
Years later, I returned to Japan
to care for my mother,
now gently veiled by the fog of dementia.
Time slowed in that long season of rain,
and it was only then I noticed—
no frogs.
The little companions we once played with
had vanished.
In their place: a new landscape.
Houses, buildings—
the meadows and soil buried beneath concrete.
The habitats of frogs, and countless others,
quietly erased.
I wondered—
could we have done it differently?
Can we live more gently,
in a way that lets us share the earth
with these small creatures,
whose songs once filled the air
with joy?
This large painting created with collage of images centres on the ocean, weaving surreal fragments—London’s skyline, fox, wind turbines, and a Tahitian woman—into a dreamlike landscape. A costume echoes my emotional connection to the South Pacific’s vibrant underwater life. The work gently questions our complex, often contradictory relationship with nature and the ocean’s fragile future.