JOURNALS

In the beginning there was form
- reflections around Yuka Kawai’s work

The very first of Yuka Kawai’s works I ever saw was an illustration on the cover of the 87th edition of the Norwegian arts and crafts magazine, Kunsthåndverk, in 2003. It was called ”Soothing Breath” and consisted of two yellow shapes in woven and pleated hemp, standing 240 cm tall,  120 cm by 120cm wide. However, before I had even read this information, the visual impacted on me in a positive way; there was a feeling of surprise and my curiosity had been awakened.  While Yuka Kawai uses different media, the most central are textiles and fibers, and her finished works are usually displayed as installations.

In this short piece I would like to describe my reflections and my emotional response to her work, “Soothing Breath”; my meeting with the form, and the relationship between the inside and the outside, as well as the internal room.

 When the viewer enters the exhibition space, the very dimensions of the sculptures are so overwhelming that they must be viewed from a distance. Shaped like flower buds just opening slightly, they almost touch the ceiling, and as the buds seemed to be filled with air, one feels that they could float away on the wind.

In addition to the form and the size, the colour and the sharp folds form part of the immediate experience. I can sense the energy as an undercurrent nearing its bursting point, something that makes the work come alive and pointing towards a transformation.

 In Japan the colour yellow is symbolic of courage. For me it is also synonymous with strength and the life giving force of the sun, as well as a certain caution.

The surface is covered by pleated textile; they point both outwards and inwards creating light and shadow. Pleating often done by hand can be associated with clothes worn for ceremonial or special occasions. Both textiles and clothes are synonymous with bodily contact, being worn next to our skin, and here we are, consequently, being challenged.

A wall can act as a divide between the public and the private sphere, or it may separate outdoor from indoor; both divisions are important in Japanese culture. However, light knows no such boundaries and the way in which it filters through the shoji, the paper windows, creates a soft, natural luminosity.

What are these shapes like on the inside and how is the light in there? Will I feel claustrophobic or just comfortably protected when inside the form? 

Walking around in the exhibition space I try to find an opening to look into the structure and it becomes apparent that there is no front or back to the sculpture, nor are there any openings for the curious to look in. But if I manage to sneak in through the opening down at floor level, what will I experience?  Light and darkness all at once?  Lines pointing both up and down, a vertical room that also have a horizon and a centre. The static and the fluid, the inward and the outward looking – many opposites that act as contrasts and yet work together to create “Soothing Breath.” 

In Taoism there is the notion that the very essence of life is to be found in the empty room, in that it contains everything.  In almost the same way the essence of the water jug is the space designed for the water rather than the material it is made from or its form.

It gives meaning to consider Yuka Kawai’s work through form, material and techniques; viewing these both as elements of, and the conditions for, the whole. At the same time my experience is just as much about how my body and my thoughts relate to the room that has been created on the outside, as well as between and inside the sculptures. 

Eva Schjølberg, June 2008