All posts by Richard

My Photos in National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo

Laurie says:
I am thrilled that 4 of my photographs are in the “No Museum, No Life? -Art-Museum Encyclopedia to Come” that opened on the 16th in Tokyo at the National Museum of Modern Art. The show runs from June 16th to September 13th.

 

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It consists of about 170 pieces of work from the collections of the National Museums of Art (The National Museum of Modern Art, Tokyo / The National Museum of Modern Art, Kyoto / The National Museum of Western Art, Tokyo / The National Museum of Art, Osaka / National Art Center, Tokyo).

 

Philip Huang

 

This is only the second exhibition from the collections of the five national museums of art. The show will present a cross-sectional selection of works dating from before Christ to the present around the thirty five keywords from A to Z inspired by art-museum activities. While allowing the visitors to appreciate unexpected combinations of art works, the show will aim to provide an opportunity to think about concepts of “art museum” itself.

 

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My photographs are from the collection of the National Museum of Contemporary Art in Osaka  where I had my solo exhibition “Meditations on the Body,” curated by Akiko Kasuya.

I really want to see the exhibit and how my photographs are shown, so I’m going to Japan in early September!

It’s been about ten years since I was in Japan and I have many people I am looking forward to seeing.

And I’ll be writing about it here.

Imagine a Pomegranate

The black pomegranate pendant/sculpture was inspired by this poem by Elena Rose that I heard at a reading.  She blogs as little light.   This was the first time I heard a poem and immediately knew I wanted to sculpt the imagined pomegranate. It was the first piece I’ve ever done that was inspired by a specific poem and the desire to capture and transform part of its essence. I’ve since found other poems that directly inspire me. It’s a new challenging, difficult and pleasurable part of my process.

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Size is about 2″ by 2″.  It’s dark antiqued sterling with rubies for the seeds.  Text reads ” Imagine a dark room.  Imagine a pomegranate”

Imagine a pomegranate.

A little red flower got what it wanted and it withers, its hips swelling until it is glossy and round and hard and so ripe-full of promise it is tearing its own seams.

You don’t rush a pomegranate.

It’s the only fruit I know of that, if you stab a knife right in, it bleeds.  Pomegranates are for the patient and determined.

Imagine a pomegranate, full of blood and secrets.  You have to draw your fingers along it, feel how it fits together under the skin, where the ribs are.  Your knife should be sharp: two deep strokes across the flower, strong and sure—four more, light and sweet, scoring all the way around, shallow, expectant, just enough pressure to give it license to crack.

Two thumbs, certain fingers, a twist, in halves, in quarters the color of my mouth.

You break the seeds and stain your shirt, if you don’t know your way, if you’re hasty.  An easy fingertip, just so along each garnet-top, and it’s free, into the bowl or your teeth.  Keep the little bitter white end.  You need it.

Imagine a pomegranate, chamber after chamber, stroke by stroke, lifting one honeycomb translucent membrane with stained fingertips, exploring, full after full, sting after sweet, discovering, until there is only rind left.  You have to share, you have to take your time, imagine.

Imagine my body, where my womb isn’t.  Where no child will be cradled in the bowl of my hips, below the stomach of me.  Imagine where I crack open, imagine where I bleed even though each month I am reminded that I am barren as the Moon.

My body ends with me.  You have to take your time and there will be only rind left, some day, paper and ribs and stains, sting after sweet, inside out.

Imagine this death.  I am underground, my breasts heavy, feeding nothing.  I am mint and endings.  I am all-hospitable, I am the treasure-house, I am full.

Imagine a dark room, where my seeds are scattered, and I am not eating, and my hips swell but my body ends with me.

Imagine a pomegranate.

Elena Rose will be reading from her work at Girl Talk: A Trans & Cis Woman Dialogue Thursday, March 24th here in San Francisco, as will our guest blogger Marlene Hoeber.