KJ
Encounters
Mediating
Between Nature & Imagination: Sudo
Hisao
Deidre
May (from KJ#52)
Photographer: Ikeguchi
Koji
Sudo
Hisao's latest sculpture, not yet dry, stands in his ceramic studio:
a giant acorn, bursting with life, erotic tip pointing upwards. Around
it, a snake is coiled protectively, its gaze unwavering, piercing, inscrutable.
Though it is poised to fight if necessary, Sudo doesn't think of the
snake as attacking.
"Nature is not aggressive," he says, explaining that while this
species' venom can be fatal, the snake is holistically beneficial to
the ecosystem. The locals of Amami Oshima, where it is found, both fear
and revere it, using its skin pattern as a weaving motif, to wear as
a talisman.
Amami Oshima is one of the Ryukyu Islands, a long
archipelago extending from southern Japan to northeastern Taiwan, consisting
mostly of the exposed tops of submarine volcanic mountains. For the
past decade, Sudo’s primary inspiration has been the ecology of this
pristine island, which is mostly covered by rich, virgin forest.
"Amami Island is a prism through which I view the
world and then reflect it in my work," he says, his eyes sparkling.
Most of Sudo's pieces are larger than life. He creates
from a passion for life that accords a visceral energy to each of his
sculptures. Their unexpected associations draw us in to marvel intuitively
at the endless overlapping of all living creatures. Sometimes dark,
at times light, they are always playful. Sudo believes that through
inter-relating with the natural world we can rediscover a balance that
shifts us away from our errant sense of being the center of the universe.
"I look for nexus points where processes or life
forms seem to overlap. They are sometimes difficult to find, but when
I locate them, that is where I begin my work."
As an artist, he is a mediator between the realm
of nature and the imagination. His pieces, like life, are never static;
there is always a sense of process or transformation. Some of his work
is direct, like the black hare opening its heart, urging us to reciprocate.
The ancient, rare and endangered amami-no-kurousagi is endemic
to Amami and just one other island. It is designated as a national treasure;
one of only three such species that still exist.
Another piece reflecting the ever-shifting faces
of nature is based on Odoru Kenmun, a forest sprite in Amami mythology.
This creature has the magical ability to shape light on his fingers
when fishing, and playfully entices humans to play at sumo with him.
Sudo has given Kenmun three faces: on one side a traditional comedic
mask called Hyotoko; on another, the beaming Ebisu, one of the seven
Gods of Good Fortune, who favours fisherman with big catches. The last
is an oni, a fearful demon.
"By watching nature closely, one begins to feel the
essence, the life force. I believe in animism, and in the interconnectedness
of all living creatures. By looking at the patterns in nature, sometimes
I find answers and sometimes questions. I am always thinking about nature,
not always understanding but always observing and following the trails
that crisscross.
"I make connections with the natural world and then
my ceramic works are a way of connecting with other people. I hope that
my sculptures are a reminder to relate to life and nature in a way that
we have forgotten. My art arises where language ends. Sometimes words
have the power to emphasize one meaning to the exclusion of others.
I want people to be free to find their own interpretation, make their
own connections."
An insect called mai mai kaburi and a snail
seem locked in a sensual embrace; looking more closely, one realizes
that the snail is being eaten.
"All the world is developing; some aspects are dying
while others are renewing. To live and to die are the same. From birth
the process of death begins; front and back are the same." From his
studio storeroom, Sudo brings out another piece, a peach pit greatly
enlarged. One can move around it as if orbiting a planet. Moving closer,
its details seem chaotic but as one pulls back, patterns emerge.
"This seeming chaos can be confusing yet is also
the basis of a greater stability and peace. Diversity is intrinsic to
peace. In the same way, life may seem chaotic on the surface but it
is this very interconnected chaos that makes up larger patterns of structure
and order."
Since Sudo Hisao's sculptures are imbued with immensely
detailed observation, samples from nature are essential. The studio
is filled with objects he's collected or been given by friends who work
in fields of conservation and ecology. Skulls ranging from sea animals
to land mammals hang from the walls; landmarks on the journey of how
species have evolved, physically and consciously. Sudo speaks of how
malleable and adaptable bone can be, often more flexible than the thoughts
it houses.
"I am interested in the origins and evolution of
the human race. We started in Africa and that is where both our noblest
and basest traits also began."
Sudo traveled to Tanzania last year, to one of the
places where the oldest known hominid fossils have been unearthed. "I
wanted to stand in the same place as our early ancestors did, feel the
sun and the wind, breathe the air, smell the fragrance."
He opens drawers, revealing a small collection of
ancient tools. "Where did art begin? From earliest times, hunting and
carving tools were decorated. They did not need to be as beautiful as
they were, but the desire to create comes from an innate sense of beauty."
For the past 24 years Sudo
has been making his ceramic sculptures in a valley near Sonobe, a town
north-east of Kyoto. Silence pervades, save for the wind rippling the
grass between the rice paddies that rise up in terraces to forested
hills. He lives with his wife and teenage son; a daughter studies art
in Kyoto. Part of his time is spent farming his rice paddy and
vegetable gardens, in a closely-knit community. And when he is not working
the earth, he is in his studio working clay.
The story of how his art has evolved reflects the
maturation of his relationship with nature. In his early 20's, Sudo
started his career as a commercial photographer. He became dissatisfied
with the medium, though, because he disliked having to wait for the
right shot. He wanted a more active role in the creative process, to
be able to choose the end, and more, to touch his work.
Then he met Yoshimura Shunichi, a ceramics master
whose area of specialization was the potential of materials. Yoshimura
had written books based on his extensive experimentation with varieties
of clay and glazes and ranges of firing temperatures. For six years
Sudo studied pottery under him, continuing to work as a freelance photographer
and also taking shifts in a grocery store. Yoshimura constantly
challenged his students to experiment, allowing them free creative rein.
Watching the way his sensei lived and worked, his
acute observation and mindfulness, the way he developed theories and
then always tested them, Sudo was greatly inspired. In the early stages
of his career he made functional ceramics, yet wove mythological elements
into their design. Gradually he moved towards making sculptures.
An exhibition in Sonobe in 1984 was a turning point.
He used two spaces, one a traditional tatami room filled with utile
ceramic ware, the other a modern room showing a series of his early
sculptures inspired by nature: a range of frogs in the process of moving
through a leap; two snails looking at a real snail shell with the same
spiral design as their own.
The following year Sudo held an exhibition in Tokyo,
that he called Nuclear Zoo. So that people could grasp the scale of
global nuclear production, he made 53,000 miniature warheads; his tally
mirrored the actual number of nuclear weapons accounted for in the world
at that time. Along with these, he made small-scale animal sculptures;
stark, frozen in position, offset against the whiteness of a nuclear
winter. Out of this exhibition he created a book of photographs, accompanied
by the poems of Kawasaki Hiroshi. One striking line: "They say dogs
and horses also dream. I hope we humans are not in their nightmares."
For the past six years, Sudo has been working on
his Amami series; he expects that this will culminate in a show two
years from now, and is looking for a suitable exhibition space.
How remarkable it
is that a visionary artist of Sudo's talent is so little known! His
work possesses spirit which surpasses mere mastery of technique and
skill. When one lives purposefully, one is always changing, one's heart
and mind and spirit. Even he can't predict what his future work will
be; it will arise as the inspiration takes him.
"I don't like 'why' and 'because.' Instead
I want to play, always to keep playing."
One sculpture is a ball of snakes, grapes and frogs, all massed together.
"When you look very closely," he asks, "how do you tell where plants
end and animals begin?".
One wonders, looking at Sudo's work, where do we
begin and end? Difficult to even say where the body leaves off -- is
it at the tip of the finger or in the DNA? His vision extends beyond
his work towards a Gaian politik; the flesh of one's body is the flesh
of the earth is the flesh of experience.
In another sculpture, three large tomes are piled
on top of each other. The top one, a Bible, is slowly being eaten away
by spores growing from its covers. One of the first and simplest of
species is regenerating.
"Cycles of nature will prevail, even if man becomes
extinct and all records and traces of human civilization vanish. Nature
will continue to rejuvenate, new species will grow."
Sudo Hisao can be contacted
by email at animisudo@cans.ne.jp
Sidebar:
To my way of thinking, the
extinction of flora and fauna in the outer world corresponds to the
extinction of many unique forms within ourselves. The time has come
for us to reconsider our relationship with nature. It may be too late,
but in order to move from a jealous co-existence to a true co- living,
we need to enrich the ecosystem within ourselves, which is also in danger.
All sorts of creatures riding the hazy border between
life and death, heedless of our human time, coming back and forth leisurely
across the border of fantasy and reality -- they have been at the heart
of the struggle between people and nature all along. I have chosen as
my subjects these creatures abused and neglected by the dream of progress.
Each is like a discarded aspect of humanity, for we are a part of the
natural world. By rediscovering these missing faces from nature, we
rediscover the lost or dimmed sides of ourselves.
-- Sudo Hisao, 2000
Deidre
May, originally from South Africa, wrote this profile as an intern at
KJ, and is now KJ's Reviews Editor.
Copyright
held by the author
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