chirudaibana 22

The series title is a coined term created by the author using the Okinawan dialect "Chirudai (沈滞)." It depicts flowers that exist only within the layers of overlapping acrylic paint.

The technique of layering acrylic paint and sanding to reveal the surface is consistent with the non-objective free painting "Layers of Color." Therefore, the material and color expression remain consistent throughout this series.

The panels used are adhered on both sides. The surface, sides, and back are all primed. The background color on the screen is overlaid on the sides. The slits on the back of the artwork serve as internal ventilation ducts for the panel, but during installation, pins and hooks can also be used. Additionally, the smooth surface created through sanding allows for easy cleaning with a cloth or similar material.

Utilizing one of the characteristics of painting, the "layered magic."

Capturing scenes that can only exist through paint on a support.

Since I aspired to create in 1999, I have been exploring techniques that align with my desires, relentlessly pursuing the potential of painting.

"Flower Painting"

When I first started my artistic endeavors, I struggled to find a substantial motivation for this seemingly straightforward theme of "great flowers." While occasionally creating works inspired by plants, I confirmed the technical feasibility of such endeavors.

While in this frame of mind, in the spring of 2006, I came across the word "chirudai" in an article in a local Okinawan newspaper—used in the sense of something being "stagnant" or "at a standstill." I later learned it's an Okinawan dialect word describing a state in which things have come to a halt, unable to move forward.

As soon as I grasped the meaning of "Chirudai," the title "Chirudai + Flower = Chirudaibana (沈滞花)" popped into my mind like instant glue. I thought, "This can create a flower painting."

It resonated well with the image of finding something beautiful and positive amidst a negative, stagnant state. In my artistic process, akin to excavation, I carve out shapes and colors submerged within the thick layers of acrylic paint. This dual meaning felt fitting.

Since then, this piece has become one of the series I sporadically expand upon in my artistic journey.

silence, mercy, and hope

This technique involves layering acrylic paint and sanding to bring out the surface of the painting. I began using this method in 1999, aligning with my creative aspirations since the time I embarked on artistic pursuits. I have consistently employed this technique in my painting ever since.

The process begins with a full-scale line drawing on tracing paper, similar to "the oshita-zu"—the full-scale preparatory drawing used in traditional Japanese-style painting (Nihonga). At the same time, he plans the composition of the color layers to be built up. Once both the linework and the color plan are largely settled, the drawing is transferred from the tracing paper onto the panel, and work on the actual painting surface begins.

For the main canvas, I apply preparation by crushing the base and wood grain before using different types of brushes to layer in various touches. I repeat the process of layering, incorporating both partial and full-surface coverage, with over 20 layers, building up the paint as part of the depiction.

Then, while sprinkling water on the canvas, I use waterproof sandpaper to grind the surface repeatedly until the final image is achieved. I employ various sanding methods, including machine (belt sander) sanding and manual grinding, combining them as needed.

About a month and a half

I rent an old wooden house and live there. I'm allocating that one room to my own production room.