Yoshimi Arts is pleased to present a solo exhibition by Miki Sato, “In search of Omokage”.
Sato has been using “faces” as motifs for her works to introduce this world and the interpretations of its complex energy that are impossible to verbalize. In this exhibition, she will present new works, where “faces” are still being used as the main motifs, while also highlighting the concept of kage (shadow). These works deal not only with the modern interpretation of “dark aspects” associated with “shadow”, but also explore the etymological meaning of “shadow” that encompasses the interplay of light and shade.
While her production process has involved layering drawings of multiple ready-made images distributed through a variety of media, and analyzing them until the work is finally elaborated upon in an oil painting tableau, this exhibition takes a different approach. Instead of using images, the works are based on her personal records and memories, presenting a new direction in her artistic exploration.
Sato held her first solo exhibition, “Mountain Messenger”, in 2010, the year our gallery opened. This exhibition marks her eighth solo exhibition, two years she last exhibited her work in 2021.
We are looking forward to welcoming you.

 

In ancient Japan, the term for light was kage (shadow), which also referred to the shade cast by light. In other words, the etymological meaning of kage referred to the sparkling radiance and the actual light itself, as well as things illuminated by that light, and the dark areas that form behind them. However, in present day Japan, kage is written as “影” or “陰”, and has come to mean only the areas where light does not reach, the darkness (shadows) created behind objects when the light falls on them.

My kage and I have always been, and will continue to be, inseparable in the past and future. From the moment of my birth, my kage has always existed wherever there is light, and will probably disappear when I complete my life's journey. However, the kage of those of us living in the present has, in a sense, largely “disappeared” from the beginning. The Kage separated from light has been driven to the realm of unconsciousness, always existing within us, but without our awareness. Is that because we see kage as an insignificant presence? Probably not. Kage can sometimes be contradictory; an unsettling, irrational, and mysterious entity.
However, are the realms of consciousness and unconsciousness truly distinct and clearly defined, in the first place? The almost forgotten kage was intimately intertwined with light; something visible, yet invisible. I stand in a space where consciousness and unconsciousness merge, carefully picking up the sensory essence of kage and giving them a tangible form.

The Penumbra said to the Shadow, “You were walking a moment ago, and now you have stopped; you were sitting a moment ago, and now you are standing. How is it that you are so lacking in stability, with no particular discipline?” The Shadow replied, “I wait for something else to move before I do; the thing I wait for also relies on the movements of another. Am I waiting for something as fleeting as the scales on a snake, or the wings of a cicada? I follow the flow of nature so how should I know why I do one thing but not another?
(“Zhuangzi Volume 1”, Japanese translation and annotations by Osamu Kanaya, Iwanami Bunko, 1971)

According to Zhuangzi, I should acknowledge things as they are. However, if this dialogue were to take place between my own kage, how will “I”, as the subject, respond and behave? Could that response and behavior change my sense of self and potentially transform the distant unseen “something” that moves “me”?

Miki Sato

*translated by Penguin Translation