Sight unseen, Japan’s first truly contemporary art fair opens tonight. Scheduled on the same week as the Art Fair Tokyo, the 101 Tokyo Art Fair forces the megalopolis into its first Tokyo Art Week.
The world looks to Tokyo for what’s next, casually ignoring that what is there now consists of a tangled and underdeveloped infrastructure. It’s akin to many folks’ experience of moving to Tokyo and learning that it actually takes months to even get an internet connection installed. Compared to Basel and New York, Tokyo is a relative village of hovels when it comes to fine art as a commercial system.
On the macro scale, there is a severe lack of support unparalleled in other first world nations. No zaibatsu has a contemporary (or even modern) collection of note, and there is a complete lack of consumer awareness regarding fine art, though magazines like Brutus and Art-It have slowly been attempting to educate their readers about art history and the contemporary milieu. On the micro level, most Tokyo apartments lack adequate systems to actually hang art and real-estate agents charge exorbitant fees to plug holes in walls. There is a complete lack of a support network for emerging artists age 20 to 30 who more often than not leave their art careers in the dust in order to pursue a regular paycheck.
What has been present is an art fair that is more akin to a trade show than an art fair in both look and spirit. The Art Fair Tokyo would do well to look at the 101 interlopers as a source of inspiration. In lieu of a hodgepodge, non-curated mishmash of different genres, eras, and stuffed walls of the work that hasn’t sold for the year, 101 Tokyo offers another option. Namely, it’s a cultivated, highly curated sampling of exhibition spaces. Each gallery involved with 101 is permitted to show three artists maximum, and only new work is exhibited. The 101 Tokyo organizers are committed to educating their audience. They have gone as far as offering two separate seminars on art investing in Tokyo’s market in both English and Japanese, as well as a seminar on Collecting Art in the Context of Wealth Management.
There are other aspects of 101 Tokyo that are quite a change from the other gig in town. The fair is a stark contrast — the Director is an artist, and the crew running the fair is genuinely excited about visual work. All are young, a 32 year-old being the eldest, and they are decidedly international. 101 Tokyo stands as a series of events of inclusivity, something that must be cultivated if contemporary fine art as a commercial sector is to grow into something viable in Tokyo. They even have parties where you can shake your ass and even potentially get laid by someone your age whom you enjoy talking to about contemporary aesthetics with — more than can be said for elsewhere.
As purportedly over-invested in design and architecture as Tokyo is (which is debatable and a whole lot of lip service to say the least), contemporary fine art in Tokyo could really use a kick in the pants. With luck, 101 Tokyo will deliver a decent bruise.
Dear God,
It’s me, Ian.
The year was 1996. I had been running a small publishing venture called Migraine for a number of years, putting out mini-comics, zines, books, and the occasional record — all in the D.I.Y. spirit.
The press released three projects of my projects that I still really like, this being the Japanese translation of one of them. The comic is a somewhat confusing semi-autobio comic about my life and own bewilderment at having moved to Portland, Oregon — told through the eyes of a blobular fellow named “Our Hero”.
Another project I put out at that time were the first two issues of an encyclopedia zine called My Alphabet, written by Patrick Mullins. They are my favorite Migraine releases and available in pdf format here and here.
Shortly after that time, I visited Japan for the first time, playing music with the noise act Jalopaz. It was a really intense visit, and I wanted to pay back the friends I had made here by giving them something. Joshua Hansell translated the comic for me, and I printed a limited edition of 250 spiral-bound versions of this comic, boxed them up, and sent them to Tokyo for friends. That was the last of this comic. Until now.
In retrospect, it’s shittily scripted and drawn, but it definitely captured a certain moment. And thus, I share it with you:
Note: LODR was originally laid out with 4 panels per page, but that wouldn’t work so well as a gallery in here. Also note that the gallery contains 126 panels, so proceed if you have some time on your hands…
神様へ
イアンです。
時は１９９６年。その頃僕はMigraineという小さな出版業をもう何年か営んでいて、ミニコミック、マガジン、本、そして時にはレコードも出版していました。もちろん、すべてD.Y.Iの精神に則って。
僕が手掛けた出版物のなかで特に気に入っていたものが３点あり、これはそのうちの一つの日本語訳です。このコミックは少し複雑な自伝的要素があって、僕が始めてオレゴン州、ポートランドに引っ越した時の経験や驚きを「われらがヒーロー」という名の物体の視点から語っています。
その頃出版したもう一つのプロジェクトは、Patrick Mullins 作の百科事典を基にした雑誌、My Alphabet の最初の２号でした。これらは僕のもっとも好きなMigraineリリース作品であって、こことここでPDFフォーマットで提供中です。
それから少し時が経ち、僕はノイズアクトJalopazとともに披露するため、日本を始めて訪れました。それはとても強烈な体験であって、出会ったすばらしい仲間達に何かをあげることで、せめてもの恩返しになればと僕は思っていました。Joshua Hansellに訳してもらったそのコミックを、僕はらせん綴じにして２５０冊印刷し、箱にいれて東京の友達へと送り出しました。それがそのコミックの最後でした。そう、今日まではね。
今にして思えば、この作品は筋書きも絵もひどいものだけれど、ある特定の瞬間をしっかりと捕らえていると思います。だからこそ、ここであなたに紹介します：
注：LODRは元々１ページに４コマというレイアウトでしたが、それはギャラリーとしてここで紹介するには不向きなので再構成しています。
又、このギャラリーはおよそ１２６コマあるので、時間がある方々に見ていただければ幸いです、、、。
While I was in the U.S. vacationing over the holidays, I partook in a lively night of bingo at Sunset Bingo in lovely Beaverton, Oregon with my lovely girlfriend and her family. While sitting out the more costly rounds of the game, the cheap bastard that I am, I crafted up a lively modular vernacular typeface for Néojaponisme readers out of the materials available. Download it here.
Happy Valentine’s Day
