The Setouchi Triennale, held every three years, celebrated its third anniversary in 2016. Numerous endeavors and new initiatives are launched throughout the year. Travel is the medium through which these endeavors unfold. People are drawn to unique experiences they can't find anywhere else, and embark on journeys seeking unique experiences and the release of their senses. Beyond travel is face-to-face connections. What kind of energy is generated through human interaction, and how does the Setouchi Triennale respond to these voices? ■Meeting people face-to-face and learning about the land through food
--What emotions arise within travelers? Modern values demand the ability to access the maximum amount of information in the shortest time possible. In both the public and private sectors, high information processing capabilities define talented individuals. Despite being immersed in the IT world and earning their keep, these individuals know that the IT world is a lie and believe that only face-to-face relationships hold truth. While the current wave of globalization is virtual, people realize that true globalization can only be achieved through face-to-face relationships, born from personal mobility. Such people are especially eager to travel and seek mobility.
--The theme of "food" is particularly prominent in this year's art festival.
Food is the best way to understand a place. The cuisine made by island mothers using local ingredients is the best in the world. For example, in spring, sawara is caught in abundance in the Seto Inland Sea. In Tokyo, it loses its freshness, so you might only be familiar with it marinated in Kyoto-style broth, but in the Seto Inland Sea, it's served seared, which is absolutely delicious. During sawara season, there's a Seto Inland Sea tradition of making pressed sushi for a bride to take home. The seared sawara and pressed sushi made by locals are so exquisite that my parents were convinced, saying, "If she's eating such delicious food, she'll surely be happy in her new home." I want everyone to be able to try it as much as possible.
However, because not many people usually come to eat there, there are hardly any restaurants on the island. Many of the people who came to the last art festival bought onigiri (rice balls) from convenience stores. Reflecting on this, I wanted to work hard to make sure that people could at least eat properly during the art festival.
Local mothers also work at "Island Kitchen" on Teshima.
■ People and art are all fascinating in their own ways
--I hear that in this day and age, it's important for cities and regions to resonate and exchange with each other. The story that moved me the most was when a resident living along the road from the beach to the artwork started selling water in a styrofoam box in front of his house around the third or fourth day after the art festival began. When her family asked her, "Mom, what are you doing?" she replied, "I was always watching the people coming to the island. But just watching wasn't fun. Maybe if I sold something, I could start a conversation." The juice came from a vending machine 10 meters away. She bought it there for 140 yen, chilled it, and sold it for 140 yen each (laughs). Since people don't usually come to the island, it's a rare sight. Hearing this story, I realized that the islanders' greatest joy is wanting to see and talk to different people. That was the joy of both the old highways and the pilgrimages. To put it more logically, there are 7.3 billion different people living on Earth, and we instinctively seek out the fascinating aspects of each individual. The beauty of art is that everyone is different. This is the only realm where being different from others is acceptable. That's why, as a director, I try to choose art that is as different as possible. It's fine to have incredible works by Living National Treasures, as well as works by amateurs. I think that kind of diversity is what makes art so fascinating, and the basis for exchange between cities and regions.
--Is this influence reflected in your work?
Even artists who usually work on serious themes can brighten their work when older women pat them on the shoulder or butt and say, "Good luck, big brother." I think this is because the celebratory nature of art is brought out in its connection with the island (land). Even Christian Boltanski's serious works, such as Archive of Heartbeats on Teshima Island, feel like they open up to the sea.
■To make the Seto Inland Sea a Sea of Hope
--Visitors also seek human interaction.
When asked in a survey why they came to Setouchi, the overwhelming majority answered contemporary art. Second was the appeal of the sea and islands. But when people were leaving, the answers changed: first, I got to talk to people on the island. second, I got to participate in island events. third, I got to eat island ingredients and cuisine. Cities are standardized, people are treated like robots, and they have no choice but to do their best to follow what they're told at work. But in the countryside, people are called by their proper nouns. That's why everyone wants to go to the countryside.
--The Setouchi Triennale is held once every three years. What do you want to carry into the future, three, six, and nine years from now?
When we first began discussing our collaboration with Isetan Mitsukoshi, I was surprised by something. Department stores display seasonal items for the year, such as New Year's and Christmas, but that alone makes it difficult to present something original. We need to create expressions that capture the larger underlying currents that are moving. That's when I heard they came up with the idea of collaborating with the Setouchi Triennale. I was impressed by their approach to grasping the tendencies of human sensibilities and wanted to learn from them myself.
For many reasons, the Setouchi Triennale can only be held once every three years. The three-year preparation period is absolutely necessary. We're simply focused on dealing with the immediate needs, but sometimes I think that since we're doing this, we should do more. Many people are living difficult lives every day, under various circumstances. That's why I want to make this a place where people can feel an opening, a sense of brightness, and hope.
Return to the first part.
--What emotions arise within travelers? Modern values demand the ability to access the maximum amount of information in the shortest time possible. In both the public and private sectors, high information processing capabilities define talented individuals. Despite being immersed in the IT world and earning their keep, these individuals know that the IT world is a lie and believe that only face-to-face relationships hold truth. While the current wave of globalization is virtual, people realize that true globalization can only be achieved through face-to-face relationships, born from personal mobility. Such people are especially eager to travel and seek mobility.
--The theme of "food" is particularly prominent in this year's art festival.
Food is the best way to understand a place. The cuisine made by island mothers using local ingredients is the best in the world. For example, in spring, sawara is caught in abundance in the Seto Inland Sea. In Tokyo, it loses its freshness, so you might only be familiar with it marinated in Kyoto-style broth, but in the Seto Inland Sea, it's served seared, which is absolutely delicious. During sawara season, there's a Seto Inland Sea tradition of making pressed sushi for a bride to take home. The seared sawara and pressed sushi made by locals are so exquisite that my parents were convinced, saying, "If she's eating such delicious food, she'll surely be happy in her new home." I want everyone to be able to try it as much as possible.
However, because not many people usually come to eat there, there are hardly any restaurants on the island. Many of the people who came to the last art festival bought onigiri (rice balls) from convenience stores. Reflecting on this, I wanted to work hard to make sure that people could at least eat properly during the art festival.
Local mothers also work at "Island Kitchen" on Teshima.
■ People and art are all fascinating in their own ways
--I hear that in this day and age, it's important for cities and regions to resonate and exchange with each other. The story that moved me the most was when a resident living along the road from the beach to the artwork started selling water in a styrofoam box in front of his house around the third or fourth day after the art festival began. When her family asked her, "Mom, what are you doing?" she replied, "I was always watching the people coming to the island. But just watching wasn't fun. Maybe if I sold something, I could start a conversation." The juice came from a vending machine 10 meters away. She bought it there for 140 yen, chilled it, and sold it for 140 yen each (laughs). Since people don't usually come to the island, it's a rare sight. Hearing this story, I realized that the islanders' greatest joy is wanting to see and talk to different people. That was the joy of both the old highways and the pilgrimages. To put it more logically, there are 7.3 billion different people living on Earth, and we instinctively seek out the fascinating aspects of each individual. The beauty of art is that everyone is different. This is the only realm where being different from others is acceptable. That's why, as a director, I try to choose art that is as different as possible. It's fine to have incredible works by Living National Treasures, as well as works by amateurs. I think that kind of diversity is what makes art so fascinating, and the basis for exchange between cities and regions.
--Is this influence reflected in your work?
Even artists who usually work on serious themes can brighten their work when older women pat them on the shoulder or butt and say, "Good luck, big brother." I think this is because the celebratory nature of art is brought out in its connection with the island (land). Even Christian Boltanski's serious works, such as Archive of Heartbeats on Teshima Island, feel like they open up to the sea.
■To make the Seto Inland Sea a Sea of Hope
--Visitors also seek human interaction.
When asked in a survey why they came to Setouchi, the overwhelming majority answered contemporary art. Second was the appeal of the sea and islands. But when people were leaving, the answers changed: first, I got to talk to people on the island. second, I got to participate in island events. third, I got to eat island ingredients and cuisine. Cities are standardized, people are treated like robots, and they have no choice but to do their best to follow what they're told at work. But in the countryside, people are called by their proper nouns. That's why everyone wants to go to the countryside.
--The Setouchi Triennale is held once every three years. What do you want to carry into the future, three, six, and nine years from now?
When we first began discussing our collaboration with Isetan Mitsukoshi, I was surprised by something. Department stores display seasonal items for the year, such as New Year's and Christmas, but that alone makes it difficult to present something original. We need to create expressions that capture the larger underlying currents that are moving. That's when I heard they came up with the idea of collaborating with the Setouchi Triennale. I was impressed by their approach to grasping the tendencies of human sensibilities and wanted to learn from them myself.
For many reasons, the Setouchi Triennale can only be held once every three years. The three-year preparation period is absolutely necessary. We're simply focused on dealing with the immediate needs, but sometimes I think that since we're doing this, we should do more. Many people are living difficult lives every day, under various circumstances. That's why I want to make this a place where people can feel an opening, a sense of brightness, and hope.
Return to the first part.
