September 2024
Seeing Invisible Stars in a Contemplative Space
Toryo Ito, Deputy head priest of Ryosokuin Temple
In January 2024 I was told that Elizabeth Peyton was looking for a space for her solo exhibition in Kyoto, an artist with very mindful of the environment for showing her work. Ryosokuin had been suggested to her as a suitable venue.
Afterwards, Elizabeth came to visit our temple and I spent some time talking with her. Together we assisted a tea ceremony, practiced zazen, and I listened to her as she shared her thoughts on her art. Her meticulous attention to detail, not only in her works but also with regard to where and how they are exhibited, is well known. I felt somewhat nervous, wondering what kind of requests she would come out with. Everything she said, however, was full of consideration and respect for me, Ryosokuin and the history and culture behind it.
Once set to hold her show at Ryosokuin and dedicate a Jusuma [papered sliding door] painting and a hanging scroll to the temple, she checked everything with us, from the concept of the painting's composition to even the choice of pulls to match the Jusuma. Only after we agreed did she proceed to the execution. I was deeply moved by her insistence on the harmony with Ryokokuin's tradition and landscape, rather than her own passion and the uniqueness of her artwork. Over the course of these close exchanges, a relationship of trust developed, and it was decided to provide several pieces of material for her works from the temple's storage: three robes, one black, one purple and one brown, all worn by my grandfather at memorial services, to be used as the mount for a hanging scroll. The fixtures for hanging the drawings and paintings, as well as the frames for the drawings, were to be made from a dismantled nagamochi (wooden chest used to store clothes and furnishings). Both the robes and the nagamochi are passed down from generation to generation, bearing the temple's history and the sentiments of my ancestors. Not that they are of any use, but of course we cannot neglect them either, so they had been sitting around in the warehouse for many years.
Now Elizabeth has given these reclaimed materials a new lease of life, and they are ready to see the light of day. It is a great joy for me to watch them transform and become part of striking works of contemporary art. I would like to express my sincere gratitude for her, for sublimating my many years of embarrassed frustration (disappointment at myself not being able to make good use of those old objects).
The works thus created have no clear boundaries and emerge to us with ambiguous fluctuations. The Jusuma paintings installed in the temple's grand hall look as if they had always been there, and at first glance it may be difficult to tell where the artwork begins and ends. If you sharpen your senses and focus your attention, however, you
will be awed by the definite presence that is there. A slight numbness in the legs noticed during zazen.The rustling of the wind, which has never risen to your consciousness before. You experience the same, subtle sensations with Elizabeth's paintings. The space she designed is truly contemplative, not just the works, but also the way they are displayed and placed.
The exhibition is titled "daystar hakuro." The stars are not visible during the day, but they begin to shine as the sun goes down and dusk falls, and disappear again when morning arrives. What exists certainly is not always visible, but appears and disappears according to the conditions of time and one's point of view. In this exhibition, it is my hope that you will gaze at these invisible "daystars" and feel their presence with your entire body. It would be deeply rewarding for both me and the reclaimed materials from the warehouse if you could incorporate the sensations thus gained into everyday life.
daystar hakuro
Elizabeth Peyton
Before there was a place or a title-, last summer.. a little while after my last show, Angel- I noticed the work I was making was getting closer in on the faces of the people I was making pictures of ... one thing that inspired this was seeing the Degas print show Degas in black and white at the BnF in Paris-his monotypes in particular- the economy of black and white- the cropping- the extreme drama from the limited elements and subject matter inspired an urgency in me to make some monotypes using limited materials- limited space- when the space is small and the elements cropped to the border of recognizable/ not recognizable- there is an energy, intimacy and freedom I was finding.. my universe expanding while getting closer.. I wasn't purposely making these conditions - these conditions seemed to be all I wanted to see ...
Then it came to wondering where to show this newly forming orbit I could feel they needed a particular shelter; a kind of privacy - I didn't know what ... when I wondered where might be the right place; the right sensibility- the answer:
Japan ... - there has been in the past a reception of my work in Japan that has been very moving for me- it naturally felt like this work- very far from its making- would find its right point of departure into the world ... I voiced this to David who said "why not Kyoto" to my Tokyo- which was even more right- when it came to finding a space it was total magic that there happened to be in Kyoto an Abbot who was putting on shows of contemporary art in his Temple The Ryosokuin.
He couldn't have known I was a Buddhist.. I visited first in March and immediately felt that not only was it the transcendental space I was looking for but also an opportunity for an exchange in the world I believe in- like Delacroix said about his work being bridges of communication out to the world for me too I can see this possibility of showing in the world that brings the work to people who wouldn't
usually be exposed to it and myself/ art work/ art viewers exposed to a place ideas, they would usually not be exposed to - we are all swimming in the same stream or at least parallel streams ... Seeing and feeling how the trees, rocks, insects and pond in the garden were a vital part of the activities in the temple inspired me very much in the work I made after this time as well.
The limitation of not being able to add a nail- a wall- any structure to the temple to hang things on brought many gifts- one of these being that since having become the Abbot of Ryosokuin Mr. Ito was wondering- looking for a way to responsibly take care of his ancestors'- and the temple's belongings in a way that would respect them at the same time as possibly letting go of them ...
On return from that first March trip I realized the Temple must have old wood somewhere that we could make a structure/ frames to put the work in and on- if this was possible there would be no problem of intruding into the space. It would all fit in with the existing temple interior- Mr. Ito was immediately generous to allow this wood to be transformed ... given a new life ... and I was relieved and grateful ...
( and later when it seemed too random to get new fabric for the scrolls he generously offered the old kimonos and kesa of his ancestors to become the material for the two scrolls) The idea of making work that would become part of the temple--the fusama and scrolls came up and in the same spirit as the wood it seemed right to make this work in the temple. Returning to the Ryosokuin temple for a week in June this happened- Mr. Ito generously allowing his meeting room to become my studio ... the time spent walking alone in the garden- being in the temple and working in the "studio "was an immense revelation - realization of the beauty of making work for a place of belief that I believe in.. it heightened my understanding of what work would feel right- could live in there. In a space of communion- be it in a temple, a particular communication between people, writing in funeral texts- scripture- there is a kind of heightened awareness of life, death and love that makes only a particular kind of feeling, object, and language possible to exist there ...
At the time I was reading the first pages of Emerson's essay Nature where he asks "Why should we not also enjoy an original relation to the universe? Why should we not have a poetry and philosophy of insight and not of tradition, and a religion of revelation to us, and not a history to theirs ... why should we grope the dry bones of the past... The Sun Shines Today Also" ! ! ! ( My emphasis and capitalization there) Yes! why don't we make our gods anew..?. Often I think about the spirituality of Elvis Presley and - strongly I felt I wanted to give him a place of communion- the private dignity of his belief and feeling- the picture that became the scroll and then a cropped part became the fusama- the cropping- even the whole drawing many people may not be able to see the face let alone who it is.. I wanted an abstraction in it where you could be in the meditation hall and understand it as marks moving almost a landscape- and then perhaps the face would come into being- seeing in it the expression of beautiful resignation. ( when discussing this with Ito san he related to me that there is a similar concept in the Japanese language that brings together the words for 'clear' and 'acceptance' becoming "akirameru" ) the abiding and accepting of the conditions of life and death and through the acceptance a kind of transformation can happen ... This expression I was noticing all around me and appearing in much of my work.