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4Edited by Carrie Cushman

5Komatsu Hiroko: Creative DestructionPublished in conjunction with the exhibition at the Davis Museum at Wellesley CollegeSeptember 19, 2021 – June 5, 2022Curated by Carrie Cushman, Linda Wyatt Gruber ‘66 Curatorial Fellow in Photography at the Davis Museum, the exhibition and online catalogue are supported by a grant from the Japan-U.S. Friendship Commission, Wellesley College Friends of Art at the Davis, the Mildred Cooper Glimcher ‘61 Endowed Fund, and the Anonymous ’70 Endowed Davis Museum Program Fund.© 2021 Davis Museum at Wellesley Collegeand the authorsCarrie CushmanKomatsu HirokoMitsuda YuriFranz PrichardUmezu GenAll artwork by Komatsu HirokoCourtesty of the artist © Komatsu HirokoInstallation photography © Steve BriggsDesigned by Alicia LaTores, Friends of Art Curatorial Research Associate at the Davis MuseumAll rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reprinted or reproduced in any form or by an electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the copyright holders.ISBNDavis MuseumWellesley College106 Central StreetWellesley, Massachusetts 02481www.davismuseum.wellesley.edu

6ContentsDirector’s Foreword | Lisa Fischmanごあいさつ | リ サ・フィッ シュ マ ンEssaysPhotography for a Different Future: An Introduction to Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction | Carrie CushmanArtist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko with Mitsuda Yuri Komatsu Hiroko’s Photographic Overload | Franz PrichardWalk the Apocalypse: Komatsu Hiroko’s Experimental Visual Research in the Context of “The Work of Art in the Age of Post-Industrial Society” | Umezu Gen Plates 図版論考異なる未来へ向かう写真 —「小松浩子：創造的破壊」によせて | キャーリ・クッシュマンアーティストトーク：小松浩子と光田ゆり小松浩子による写真の過負荷 | フランツ・プリチャード黙示録を歩く：小松浩子における経験的な視覚の探究「ポスト工業化社会の美術」に照らして | 梅津元Biography 略歴Bibliography 参考文献579224250547890108116120124

7It is my great pleasure to introduce this online publication produced to accompany the exhibition Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction on view in the Davis Museum’s Morelle Lasky Levine ‘56 Works on Paper Gallery from September 19, 2021 to June 5, 2022.The project — paused significantly by the Covid-19 pandemic — owes its realization to the scholarly expertise and curatorial initiative of Dr. Carrie Cushman, the Linda Wyatt Gruber ‘66 Curatorial Fellow in Photography at the Davis, and to the collaborative spirit and flexibility of the artist Komatsu Hiroko. The artist’s first exhibition in the United States brings Komatsu’s highly regarded, critically lauded, and often awarded photo-based installation practice to new audiences — those who will visit in person as well as those who will access this publication in the digital realm.With many thanks to the authors — Carrie Cushman, Franz Prichard, and Umezu Gen — the essays herein establish new contexts and frameworks for the analysis of Komatsu’s work; it is also a pleasure to present, for the first time in English translation, the 2017 interview with Komatsu by Mitsuda Yuri, Curator of the Kawamura Memorial DIC Museum of Art.As with any Davis project, this one requires the acknowledgment of all staff. In normal times, every exhibition is a truly collaborative endeavor; in addition, over the past year and a half, staff have met the many new challenges posed by the pandemic with ingenuity, generosity of spirit, and creativity and have worked together through a profoundly integrative model. This project owes particular thanks toDirector’s ForewordLisa Fischman

8Mark Beeman, Manager of Exhibitions and Collections Preparation; Helen Connor, Assistant Registrar for Exhibitions & Digital Resources; and Alicia LaTores, Friends of Art Curatorial Research Associate.The Davis Museum thanks:Franz Prichard, Assistant Professor of East Asian Studies at Princeton University and catalogue contributor, who introduced Carrie Cushman and Komatsu Hiroko at the “Urban Materiality and Photography from Contemporary Japan” workshop he organized at Princeton in 2018.Umezu Gen, Retired curator and independent scholar of Art Studies; catalogue contributor.Mitsuda Yuri, Curator of the Kawamura Memorial DIC Museum of Art, who kindly gave permission to have her interview with Komatsu republished and translated here.Jin Sachiko, Director of Musashino Art University’s gallery αM, who facilitated the reprinting of Mitsuda Yuri and Komatsu’s 2017 interview for the online catalogue.Niharika Chibber Joe, Deputy Executive Director of the Japan-U.S. Friendship Commission, who, as administrator of the generous J.U.S.F.C. grant that supports this project, very kindly offered several extensions as our dates and timelines shifted.Also, many thanks to Colleen Berry for her copy editing skill in English and Japanese, to Alicia LaTores for publication design, and to the University of Massachusetts at Amherst Translation Center for their work.As ever, our gratitude to Dr. Paula Johnson, President of Wellesley College, and Andy Shennan, Provost and Lia Gelin Poorvu ‘56 Dean of the College, for their enthusiastic and unwavering support of the Davis Museum.

9デイビス・ミュージアムのMorelle Lasky Levine ‘56 Works on Paper Galleryで2021年9月19日～2022年6月5日まで開催される個展「小松浩子：創造的破壊」に合わせて制作されたこの電子図録を公開できますことを、大変喜ばしく思っております。このプロジェクトは、新型コロナウイルスのパンデミックにより大幅に延期されましたが、本ミュージアムのLinda Wyatt Gruber ‘66写真アソシエイトキュレーターであるキャーリ・クッシュマン博士の学術的専門知識およびキュレーション施策と、写真家・小松浩子氏の協力的な精神および柔軟なご対応によって実現にこぎつけました。米国初となる個展を通じて、高い評価を受け、批評家から称賛を浴び、多くの受賞歴を持つ小松氏の写真ベースのインスタレーション技法を、新たな鑑賞者の皆様にお届けします。 デジタルの世界でこの電子図録にアクセスいただけます他、直接ご来館いただくこともできます。本書に寄せられているエッセイによって、小松氏の作品分析に新たなコンテキストやフレームワークが確立されています。寄稿者のキャーリ・クッシュマン博士、フランツ・プリチャード氏、梅津元氏には、心より感謝申し上げます。また、DIC川村記念美術館キュレーターの光田ゆり氏が2017年に行った小松氏へのインタビューを、今回初めて英訳してご紹介できますことも光栄に存じます。デイビス・ミュージアムにおける他の企画と同様に、この企画にも全スタッフの同意が必要です。平時でも、すべての展覧会はまさに共同努力の成果ですが、その上、この１年半の間、スタッフはパンデミックによって生じた多くの新たな課題に、創意工夫、寛容な精神、創造力をもって立ち向かい、極めて統合されたモデルを通じて一丸となって取り組んでまいりました。本企画展に際しましては、特に、展覧会およびコレクションごあいさつリ サ・フィッ シュ マ ン

10準備責任者のマーク・ビーマン氏、展覧会およびデジタルリソース担当アシスタントレジストラーのヘレン・コナー氏、Friends of Artキュレトリアルリサーチアソシエイトのアリシア・ラットレズ氏のおかげと、感謝しております。デイビス・ミュージアムは、以下の皆様に感謝申し上げます：フランツ・プリチャード氏。プリンストン大学東アジア研究所准教授、図録寄稿者。2018年にプリンストン大学で主催したワークショップ「Urban Materiality and Photography from Contemporary Japan（現代日本における都市のマテリアリティと写真）」にて、キャーリ・クッシュマン博士と小松浩子氏を紹介しました。梅津元氏。元キュレーターで、美術学の独立研究者。図録寄稿者。 光田ゆり氏。DIC川村記念美術館キュレーター。本書に小松氏へのインタビューを再掲、および、英訳することを快諾していただきました。神祥子氏。武蔵野美術大学ギャラリーαMディレクター。電子図録への光田ゆり氏と小松氏の2017年インタビュー転載に際し、ご助力いただきました。ニ ハリカ・チバー・ジョウ氏。日米友好基 金アソシエイトエグゼクティブディレクター。このプロジェクトを支援する寛大な日米友好基金助成金の担当者として、日取りやスケジュールの変更に合わせて何度も延期してくださいました。また、英語と日本語の原稿編集にご協力いただいたコリーン・ベリー氏、装丁デザイン担当のアリシア・ラットレズ氏、マサチューセッツ大学アマースト校翻訳センターにも感謝申し上げます。いつでも、デイビス・ミュージアムを全面的に支持するウェルズリー大学学長ポーラ・ジョンソン先生とLia Gelin Poorvu ‘56学部長アンディー・シーナン博士に感謝申し上げます。

2Figure 1 - Installation view of “Broiler Space,” 2010–2011

Photography for A Different Future3Photography for A Different Future — An Introduction to Komatsu Hiroko: Creative DestructionBy Carrie CushmanBy her own admission, Komatsu Hiroko came late to photography. Born in Kanagawa, Japan in 1969, she began working with analog photography in the mid-2000s after a career in experimental music. From maintaining a rigorous shooting regimen to crafting photobooks by hand to keeping a packed exhibition schedule, she has been making up for the delay ever since. Komatsu regularly visits industrial sites with a Leica camera, snapping thousands upon thousands of photographs, one after the other, and then developing the film in her home. Production at an accelerated pace is not unusual in the tradition of Japanese street photography, a genre to which her work is often ascribed.¹ Komatsu’s output, however, is markedly different from the carefully sequenced photobooks or the now iconic (and autonomous) images of everyday urban phenomena created by the likes of Moriyama Daidō or Nakahira Takuma. While her predecessors immersed themselves in the act of photography, Komatsu explores the potential of sharing that fervor by immersing viewers in the mterils of photography.To walk into one of Komatsu Hiroko’s installations is to enter a world of monochrome. In her latest work 1. Yoshiaki Kai, “The Predicament and the Reflexive Turn: Japanese Street Photography since 1990,” Review of Jpnese Culture nd Society 31 (2019), 99.

4for the Davis Museum grids of 8  10 photographs line the walls and floor. Larger prints, obscured by plastic wrap, stretch over boxes to create sculptural protrusions. Larger still are the uncut rolls of photographs that hang over wires and unfurl underfoot, while scenes from past installations appear via projection and loop on a CRT monitor. Komatsu has become increasingly well known around the globe for the absorbing photographic environments that she creates. In the beginning, however, the scale of these installations was not a foregone conclusion. As she explains in an 2017 artist talk that has been reprinted for this volume, from 2010 to 2011 she rented a space in which to stage a series of exhibitions under the collective title “Broiler Space” (Figures 1-5). The site of a former real estate agency, the space was decidedly unsuited to the exhibition of individually framed works of art. Forcing herself to execute one new exhibition per month for the entire year, Komatsu quickly ran out of usable space and had to reconsider the parameters of traditional exhibition design. And so, she expanded out from the walls, draping prints across the floors, hanging them from the ceiling, and, on one occasion, even rolling them outside onto a small balcony. The multisensory, immersive nature of this exhibition strategy places her work in the global tradition of Minimalism (or, in the Japanese context, the Mono-ha Group of the late 1960s), in which large sculptural interventions in the gallery or the environment make viewers aware of both the boundaries and the perceptual capacities of their bodies in relation to objects in space.The essays in this volume demonstrate the rich range of historical, social, and aesthetic contexts that inform — and are subsequently transformed by — Komatsu’s practice. The 2017 artist talk, facilitated by the curator Mitsuda Yuri, provides insight into Komatsu’s singular methodological approach to shooting, printing, and installing photographs. To fully appreciate the present shape of the exhibition at the Davis is to understand how Komatsu has developed these methods over time. Umezu Gen’s essay fleshes out a larger historical context that situates Komatsu’s work in a lineage of postwar art produced in response to the industrialization, commodification, and degradation of the landscape. By drawing connections to the activities of groups like Mono-ha, he invites us to consider the power of alternative approaches

Photography for A Different Future5Figures 2–5 - Installation views of “Broiler Space,” 2010–2011

6to visual representation. Finally, Franz Prichard identifies aesthetic affinities between Komatsu’s photographic output and the ways that positive feedback loops function in experimental noise music. In both, he argues, we can identify the potential to produce knowledge differently. At stake in all of these texts is how we make meaning in the late-capitalist city.Creative DestructionIn the wake of the most recent remaking of her home city, Tokyo, to host the 2020 Summer Olympic Games, Komatsu’s exhibition at the Davis reflects on the urban phenomenon known as creative destruction. In this economic model, the wooden beams, layers of brick, steel, concrete, and glass that make up the built environment, ostensibly constructed to lst, are in fact nothing more than base materials ultimately destined for the dump in the relentless push to churn out new and better products. As Stephen Cairns and Jane M. Jacobs state in their groundbreaking volume, Buildings Must Die: “Architecture in capitalist contexts is fatally bound to destruction. Furthermore, capitalism’s need to expand and create new markets (be it by territorial expansion, investing in change, or forcing obsolescence) is generative of architecture.”² Cairns and Jacobs call creative destruction “architecture’s most perverse secret,” whereby “its professional stability, and its ability to reproduce itself, depend on demolition, as both a material fact and a psychic desire.”³ In our current era of late capitalism, this model is driven not only by the architectural profession’s need to sustain itself, but also by urban planning policies and cycles of investment and disinvestment that treat buildings as commodities to be continuously rebuilt.It is often said that Komatsu confronts us with “things that cannot be seen,” despite the fact that2. Stephen Cairns and Jane M. Jacobs, Buildings Must Die: A Perverse View of Architecture (Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2014), 54.3. Ibid., 197.

Photography for A Different Future7demolition and construction sites are a common feature of contemporary urbanscapes worldwide. People seem inured to the environmental chaos wrought by the scrap-and-build mentality unless it appears somewhere unexpected, such as the pristine walls of an art gallery or the hushed spaces of a museum. This reaction is especially surprising in the context of Japan, where new buildings are demolished and rebuilt nearly twice as fast as those in the United States or the United Kingdom. Both historic events (from Allied firebombing campaigns in the 1940s to massive redevelopment and infrastructural projects in preparation for hosting the 1964 and 2020 Summer Olympic Games) and public policy (land speculation and the curtailment of building codes during the economic “bubble” period of the 1980s) have contributed to what architects in Japan refer to as “short building life syndrome.” In Tokyo today, the average building’s lifespan is a mere twenty years. Contractors erect elaborate configurations of scaffolding, fences, and netting around new building sites, shielding passersby from the visual — if not the aural — cacophony of demolition and construction. In gathering countless images at the sites where these building materials are sorted and stored, Komatsu accounts for the piles of stuff, the sheer number of things, required to maintain the impression of seamless renewal.Komatsu refers to the sites that she photographs as “industrial districts,” factories surrounded by smaller sub-factories on the periphery of urban centers. The close range at which she shoots concentrates the building materials in the frame so that it is difficult to differentiate between those intended for new construction and those meant to be scrapped. The settings in which we find these objects add to their ambivalent status. The vines overtaking the fence in Figure 7 suggest an environment of decay, while the large cylinders stacked in the grass just beyond appear orderly enough for transport to a new site. When presented in abundance, the distinguishing content of each photograph is further decontextualized. The totality of the experience overwhelms our ability to attend to the details of4. Reference Komatsu / Mitsuda interview in this volume.5. Cairns and Jacobs, Buildings Must Die, 127.

8excessive use (and reuse) of photographic prints is also what prevents Komatsu from merely repeating this economic model. The multiple, indeterminate encounters that become possible in her installations are precisely what enable us to imagine a future that differs from the monotony of creative destruction.Photography for a Different FutureHow does unchecked redevelopment impact our experience of urban environments, our sense of place and of history? What are the consequences of our era’s apparent adversity to age, obsolescence, patina, and grime? For Walter Benjamin in the mid-twentieth century, the ruins of modern consumerism — specifically, the rundown nineteenth-century shopping arcades of Paris — were essential for maintaining a critical view of history. As Frederic Jameson writes of The Arcdes Project: “Benjamin took his snapshot of the nineteenth-century arcade at the moment of its decay — and thereby developed a wholeindividual prints, just as the relentless cyclicality of creative destruction is easily overlooked in our everyday lives.In her 2017 artist talk, Komatsu says of her work: “What you can see here are the found-ations of society. I think it’s crucial that there are places where things are exposed, where the power of construction and the power of destruction are visible.” This exhibition understands the sensorial overload in Komatsu Hiroko’s installations as a proxy for the psychological ramifications of a world ruled by creative destruction. As detailed below, the Figure 8 - Untitled, 2017

Photography for A Different Future9theory about history: that you could best understand the present from the standpoint of an immediate past whose fashions were already just a little out of date.” For Benjamin, the defunct shopping arcades functioned as allegories. On the verge of ruination, these passages had lost their original meaning as signs and thus were able to encompass (and allow speculation on) multiple temporalities at once: their “immediate past” as vibrant centers of consumer culture, their present as obsolete buildings, and their future, immanent disappearance and replacement by demolition. When our surroundings are perpetually renewed, do we then risk losing a sense of history — and, therefore, an ability to determine our future? Jameson would say yes. Along with “the disappearance of all the ‘originals,’” he claims, is the disappearance of “History itself,” “a History that we cannot imagine except as ending, and whose future seems to be nothing but a monotonous repetition of what is already here.”The incessant upheaval of the cityscape in Japan’s modern era, whether from war, ecological disaster, or creative destruction under the guise of “progress,” has left little in the way of “originals.” In response to such disappearances (not to mention the instantaneous erasure of entire cities by nuclear warfare), a preservationist impulse runs through urban photography in postwar and contemporary Japan. From concerted efforts to document architectural monuments before their erasure (for example, the twelve- part series, “A Requiem for Lost Things,” published by Fujimori Terunobu’s lab at Tokyo University) to the photography of buildings in the midst of demolition (Miyamoto Ryūji’s award-winning photobook Architecturl Apoclypse), to architectural surveys that stitch together panoramic views of entire city streets in order to capture a snapshot of the environment as it temporarily exists (Figure 8), all of these efforts rely on photography’s documentary capabilities. They trust in the medium’s supposed objectivity, and they are produced and published in serial formats to create visual compendia of building types6. Frederic Jameson, “Future City,” New Left Review 21 (May-June 2003), 69.7. I discuss the significance of Benjamin’s Arcdes Project for the history of demolition photography in my doctoral dissertation. See Carrie Cushman, “Temporary Ruins: Miyamoto Ryūji’s Architectural Photography in Postmodern Japan,” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 2018), 71-6.8. Ibid., 75-6.

10serial projects described above can be under-stood as symptoms, rather than true representations, of the times.By contrast, Komatsu pushes serial photography to its limits in order to call its bluff. The incessant nature of her work and the repetition of materials is central to understanding the unique experience of time that visitors to her installations encounter. The standardized industrial objects in the images, the 8  10 paper and rolls on which she prints, the TV monitor, the identical pushpins, the floor panels to which they are affixed, the museum walls — seriality and sameness radiates out from the smallest staple to the entire building in which we view her installation. There is a pronounced energy that results from these repetitions, as the photographed objects, the photographs themselves, and the viewer’s typical9. Site Franz’s essay in this volume.and neighborhoods that appear complete. While preserving a certain vision of the city, the straight-forward presentation of the built environ-ment in these docu-mentary projects fails to account for the lived experience of urban space where signs are fragmented and constantly in flux. In this sense, the Figure 7 - Kimura Shōhachi and Suzuki Yoshikazu, Ginz Hcchō (The 8th Ginza District), 1954, Photographic offset lithograph on accordion-style sheet, Museum purchase with funds given through the generosity of Linda Wyatt Gruber (Class of 1966) 2019.1120.2

Photography for A Different Future11experience of both is altered.Rather than attempting to preserve a historical scene, Komatsu’s approach to photography can be thought of as a means of preserving a heuristic model of history in which time is wrought not cyclically (creative destruction), nor linearly (photographic “timelines”), but, we might say, anachronistically. In her installations, Komatsu does not sequence photographs chronologically, either in the 8  10 grids or the rolls. There is no way to identify when she shot and printed a particular photograph, nor does that photograph (as both image and printed material) have a coherent temporal relationship to those around it. The addition of videos that screen footage from previous shows further disrupts our typical orientation to past and present. Like Benjamin’s arcades, Komatsu’s anachronism makes room for the coexistence of multiple experiences of time in a single space.¹Adding to this heterogeneity are the unpredictable, ad hoc experiences of individual viewers, who are invited to mark time by walking on and moving through the prints — scuffing, even tearing the paper as they go. In a move that often stuns museum professionals, Komatsu reuses the worn prints from past exhibitions in configurations for new installations. Thus, by inviting viewers to actively ruin her photographs, Komatsu breaks out of the cyclicality, the monotony of creative destruction, and restores a sense of history to the environment. The ever-shifting positions and the particular physicality of each visitor are central to the way that meaning is produced in these installations. The visitors’ relationship with the photographic objects — our various interpretations of and interventions in these standardized materials — are what keep the work from merely representing or recreating the waste of late capitalism. Thus does Komatsu draw museum-goers’ attention away from the photograph-as-image to focus on the photograph-as-material, generating a uniquely embodied experience of the medium. Her installations10. On the value of thinking anachronistically, see Georges Didi-Huberman, “History and Image: Has the ‘Epistemological Transformation’ Taken Place?” trans. Vivian Rehberg, in The Art Historin: Ntionl Trditions nd Institutionl Prctices, ed. Michael F. Zimmermann (Williamstown: Sterling and Francine Clark Institute, 2003), 128-143.11. Margaret Olin, Touching Photogrphs (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), 3.

12are a powerful reminder that photography is, as Margaret Olin puts it in Touching Photogrphs, “a relational art,” in which “meaning is determined not only by what it looks like but also by the relationship we are invited to have with it.”¹¹Photographs are always only fragmentary depictions of their subjects. For this reason, Komatsu compares the way that photographs convey meaning to the way that language functions, specifically the Japanese written language. Each individual character, or kanji, is a symbol with its own internal meaning, which shifts when it is combined with other kanji. Komatsu hints at this in the unusual titles that she gives each iteration of her work. Her installation for the Davis Museum, Self-Slowing Error, includes six kanji: 自 (oneself), 律 (rhythm), 速 (speed or velocity), 度 (an indicator of degree, or number of occurrences), 錯 (disordered), and 誤 (mistake). Individually, each character has meaning independent of the others, but as a group they do not add up to mean anything familiar in the Japanese language (hence, the awkwardness of the English translation as well). This is intended to generate an unstable, troubling feeling in the reader, as one is forced to pull apart the characters (and, likewise, the photographs) to consider their existence as fragments of meaning, as well as how they potentially operate when joined together in different combinations (自律速度 versus 速度錯誤, for example).¹² Underscoring the fragmentary nature of photography is yet another way in which Komatsu overrides how photographs typically convey information and asks us to consider the potential for multiple perspectives and indeterminate meanings in crafting a different encounter with the world.Significantly, Jameson, in an attempt to get back to the view of history from Benjamin’s decaying arcades, also turns to writing. There is “no way,” he says, “to burst through into the future, to reconquer difference, let alone Utopia, except by writing yourself into it.” He goes on: It is the writing that is the battering ram, the delirious repetition that hammers away at this sameness 12. Komatsu Hiroko, email to the author, May 23, 2021.

Photography for A Different Future13 running through all the forms of our existence (space, parking, shopping, working, eating, building) and pummels them into dmitting their own stndrdized identity with each other, beyond colour, beyond texture, the formless blandness that is no longer even the plastic, vinyl, or rubber of yesteryear. The sentences are the boom of this repetitive insistence, this pounding on the hollowness of space itself; and their energy now foretells the rush and the fresh air, the euphoria of a relief, an orgasmic breaking through into time and history again, into a concrete future.¹³By inundating us in that sameness, and offering opportunities for intervention, rather than writing, Komatsu photogrphs us into  different future.13. Jameson, “Future City,” 77. Emphasis mine.

22

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 23Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda YuriTranslated by Carrie Cushman with Franz PrichardThe following converstion took plce between Mitsud Yuri, curtor of the Kwmur Memoril DIC Museum of Art, nd Komtsu Hiroko on September 9, 2017 on the occsion of the exhibition, Mirror Behind Hole — Photography into Sculpture, orgnized by Mitsud t Musshino Art University’s gllery αM in 2017. They discuss Komtsu’s rigorous photogrphy regimen nd instlltion process, providing insights into her motivtions nd singulr methodology. Footnotes hve been dded by the trnsltors for clrity.MY: This is Komatsu Hiroko’s fourth solo exhibition. I think that all of you may have been surprised upon entering the space, so I’d like to begin by asking her to offer some comments on the exhibition.KH: For this exhibition, I used more than 3,000 prints in rolls that are 110 centimeters wide and 270 meters long. There are nine works called “wraps” in which photo paper and Styrofoam are packed together in transparent wrap.MY: You’ve turned to numbers first. Often in explanations of photography exhibitions the theme is discussed, as in, “This is a photograph of (blank),” or, “This is a documentary where I pursued (blank).” I want to ask you about speaking of exhibitions in terms of numbers, such as, “3,000 prints.”

24KH: For me, having a large quantity is important. I develop the film and print the 8 × 10 photographs in a single process, and I repeat that process daily. When an exhibition is scheduled, I determine the installation content according to the size and shape of the space, and from there I decide how many photographs will be needed. I didn’t have a sense of the number of prints for this exhibition. My workflow is foremost, and from that process I become aware of the numbers.MY: The first time I saw your work was in 2012 in a one-person show that took up all of the vast underground space of the Citizens Gallery at the Meguro Museum of Art. I was astonished, just as I’m sure many people seeing your work for the first time today are. I was terribly confused as to whether this person loved or hated photography. I think that your reduction of photographs to numbers is certainly extraordinary and related to the fact that, from the beginning, you have photographed the same types of places. What do you call the places that have become your subject matter?KH: I refer to the places that I shoot as “industrial districts.” All over the country there are so many places where small, subcontracted factories are located on the periphery of large factories. Industrial districts that sustain the base of the capitalist economy are my subject matter.MY: Are these storehouses for industrial materials? Or are they places where materials are disposed of?KH: The raw and scrap materials are intermingled. I think that the reason the raw materials look the same as the scraps is that they are organized so that they are easy to use according to rules that we do not understand. For someone not privy to the shared rules, these kinds of places are free of meaning, and a sense of openness seems to exist. In the text that you wrote for this exhibition, you focused on the subject matter and the range at which I shoot. When I move toward the piles of materials, the objects reveal themselves in different ways with continuous changes in perspective as I move, so I proceed while single-mindedly pushing the shutter.

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 25MY: These are by no means spacious places. In reality they may be expansive, but they look crammed.KH: There are large and small spaces, but, regardless, the range at which I shoot does make them look crammed.MY: I feel like these are not photographs that were taken at a distance, but shot facing the objects just as they have been positioned.KH: That’s right.MY: About how many years have you been doing this kind of photography?KH: I started photography around 2006, so it’s been about 10 years.MY: Has your subject matter changed since you started?KH: No, the subject matter has not changed the entire time.MY: Has your approach to photography stayed the same as well?KH: I think there have been small changes, but it is basically the same.MY: What sort of changes have there been?KH: When I first started, I had a rather myopic view — I would only see the objects that were right in front of my eyes. But I expanded my perspective a bit and became interested in the way the objects were positioned, as well as their relationship to the background . . .

26MY: What is the background?KH: You know, the background against which the objects are positioned. By slightly expanding my perspective, I no longer saw just the things right in front of me, but highways, buildings in the back-ground, and even more piles of objects became visible. I didn’t specifically conceive of the layouts of the photographs that I would later print, but I started to sense them. Before, I was paying attention to the lighting and the timing of the photograph, but now I feel like it’s okay if I make mistakes, and I shoot without worrying about it. Instead, there are even times when I actively welcome mistakes.MY: For you, what is a photograph with mistakes?KH: For me, in the end, there are no mistakes. But, for example, when developing negatives, if a reel of film has not been rolled correctly, there can be parts that are undeveloped because the surfaces have stuck together. In general, this could be a mistake. If you print those undeveloped areas as they are, you can create a print in which areas with the image and areas of white exist alongside each other. I also use these kinds of prints in exhibitions. Generally, when printing, you do an exposure test to ensure that the tones match well, but I print without doing an exposure test, so the tones are uneven. In considering the final shape of an exhibition, the tones may not match exactly, but I aim for a tone that is, overall, a rather bright gray.MY: So, in other words, there are no mistakes, is that right? If there were something that was not a fine art print, you might welcome it?KH: Yes, I would quite welcome it. However, deliberately making a mistake is no good, either. I try very hard to work on a large scale and while doing my best not to make mistakes, I do welcome them.MY: You aren’t aiming for uniform fine art prints. Even so, each individual photograph is fascinating.

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 27You have a method of exhibition that makes the order in which the photographs were taken completely unintelligible, so how are they sequenced? Are the rolls in the order in which you shot?KH: No, they are not in the order in which I shot them. I spread out the photographs needed for a single exhibition, and from there I select those that will go in the rolls. But there is no relationship to the order in which they were photographed when I decide on the lineup.MY: How do those combinations of photographic sequencing work?KH: When selecting photographs for the rolls, I line up the 8 × 10 prints and try to imagine what everything will look like together. But, in the end, even when I hang the photos in the exhibition space, pile them on top of each other, and put them on the walls (and I won’t take any of them out), I can’t see the relationship between the adjacent photographs. I develop the rolls in my bathroom at home, and after rinsing I dry them in a six-tatami mat room that I use as a darkroom.¹ I spread countless wires across the room about 180 centimeters high, and I hang the wet rolls of printed paper on them. This is the exact same method as my exhibitions. When I dry the 30-meter-long rolls by hanging them on wires, the room is filled with prints. Whether it’s in the middle of production or the middle of an exhibition, you cannot see the design in its entirety.MY: The theme of this exhibition series is “photography and sculpture.” In part, it explores ways of fostering a sense of photography that exists within space. Your installation does this by drawing the viewers’ attention to the amount of material. What’s more, in the images, there are many objects tightly packed into a single photograph. Is it correct to say that since you began taking photographs, you have drawn this sense of existence out through both the large amount of material in the images and the vast number of photographic prints?1. Traditional Japanese-style rooms are measured by the number of tatami mats. A six-mat room is approximately 98.8 square feet.

28KH: In my first solo exhibition, I placed the rolled prints on the wall in two rows. There was nothing else on some of the areas on the gallery walls and floor.2 After that, because I started late, I decided to do ten years’ worth of photography in one year. So for one year, I began running an independent gallery, “Broiler Space.” Let’s say that it’s standard practice for a person to do one solo exhibition a year. I put on a show of new work each month based on the wild idea that if I did ten solo shows in one year, it would add up to ten years. Since this space had originally been used as a two-story shop, there was little exhibition space. I forced myself to incorporate new elements into the exhibitions each and every time. When I added the 8 × 10s and large prints to the rolled prints in the already confined area, it was immediately obvious that there wasn’t enough space. The shape of today’s exhibition is the result of slowly moving beyond the walls to putting things on the floor and hanging the rolls on wires due to insufficient wall space.MY: So, this process has led you to exhibiting photographs that are packed together on the floor — is that right? I visited Broiler Space twice. I was surprised by the title that you gave the place, and I’d like to ask you about the origin of that later. It had the atmosphere of the Shōwa era — a row of ramen shops along the old Kōshū Road, didn’t it?3KH: Mostly, it just looked like ruins.MY: It was an incredible space, but viewers couldn’t keep up with the monthly exhibitions. Did you give the space its name?2. Komatsu’s first solo exhibition was “Chitan no kokoro” (Heart of Titanium), held in November 2009 at Gallery Yamaguchi in Tokyo. Exhibition details can be found in Hiroko Komatsu Exhibition History, vol. 1, (Tokyo: Kakeru Okada, 2021), 3-18.3. The Shōwa reign era lasted from 1926 to 1989. Here, Mitsuda references the outdated atmosphere of nondescript stretches of the Kōshū Road in areas of western Tokyo.

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 29KH: Yes. I’m also vegan, so, for me, the space’s name and that way of thinking are closely related.4MY: The title of your current installation, “The Execution of Personal Autonomy,” is not something you hear often.KH: The “right to personal autonomy” is a legal term that points to the people’s right to decide for themselves their own way of living or lifestyle. We are supposed to be able to make our own decisions regarding our education and careers, relationships, whether to get married or not, and how to handle our own bodies and lives. But, in reality, I wonder if it is possible to decide and to carry anything out on one’s own without being bound to societal norms and conventions. It can be surprising how the self is trapped by societal norms and conventions in areas of our daily lives — profound areas in which we think we are free. This is what gave me the idea for the title.MY: Is it a message for the viewers of the installation?KH: It doesn’t have the assertiveness of a message. It can be difficult for a word itself to express something, but I think it may be possible to evoke something with a series of words.MY: What is the relationship between that and photography?KH: In terms of the difficulty of expressing something on its own, I think that words and photography are similar. This installation is presented as a single work, but it is made by accumulating photographs one by one. There is a close relationship between the one-by-one making of these photographs and my life. My life revolves around photography, including the shooting, the prints made in the darkroom 4. Here, “Broiler” refers to both the machine used to broil meat, and to an industrialized breed of chicken raised for meat.

30in my house, and the exhibitions. While the title is my idea, I myself am at the service of these photographs in all aspects of my life.MY: The theme of this exhibition is different from saying, “This is the theme of this work.” Because the exhibition itself is directly related to your life, the feeling of giving a title to the work is also different.KH: Yes. For example, I created an installation space based on the original space of gallery αM. The title is only for the current location because the installations that I create are different each time. It is not an expression of some theme for the work that I am constantly producing.MY: Does that mean that the arrangement can be made to suit any space? I think that concept is quite unique.KH: I can build such a big space working one by one with my daily accumulations — through human effort, not through a large amount of capital or machinery. What I do is reminiscent of the proliferation of life — how bodies are formed through the accumulation of cells, or forests through an accumulation of trees . . .MY: So, your secret to being so fit is that you keep working with your own two hands and do so much physically-demanding work all the time — is that right?KH: I have a lot of photographs, so I want to put out a lot. If the wall space is insufficient, I feel like the floor will do.MY: But, in the end, it feels so hard to walk on the photographs — maybe because of something like the saying, “Don’t step on books!”

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 31KH: This installation was created under the premise that anyone can come and see it. I want to create a situation where people will enter [the installation]. I’d like for people to be in it. I think that ways of seeing the work change according to people’s physicality, such as their position or the height at which they stand, and even more so according to their state of mind. So, if the photographs are all over the floor, I think that one could even become emotionally unstable [laughs].MY: In the end, it’s an aggressive ploy, isn’t it?KH: Yes, in that sense, I think it is okay to have photographs on the floor.MY: As an embodied sensation, it makes for an extraordinarily provocative experience. Would you explain these wrapped works?KH: I have a friend who is not very fluent in Japanese, and once, out of nowhere, he told me that a [man’s] dead body was found wrapped in packing materials in the Sea of Trees near Mount Fuji [laughs].5 I wanted to ask him about this, but English isn’t my strong point either, and I don’t know if we understood each other in the end. What my friend said filled my brain with wild ideas like a B-movie plot: Was it money trouble, or had he known a secret that he shouldn’t have? I thought that if he was wrapped in a clear plastic sheet, then the last sight he probably saw was the forest through the wrap. I often see things covered in clear plastic wrap when I’m out shooting, but, after hearing that story, I became curious about these wrapped materials that I was used to seeing. That person’s perspective was from inside the wrap, and I was looking at the wrap from the outside. While thinking about this, I decided to make a work called “wrap” that covered the photographs.5. The Sea of Trees, also known as Aokigahara, is a forest on the northwest side of Mount Fuji that has become notorious for the large number of suicides that take place there every year.

32MY: The materials are covered in plastic wrap, and you are looking at them from the outside. But I wonder if the materials can see the world from inside the wrap — the wrap enables this reversal of perspectives.KH: I can only see in one direction with my eyes, but I think there must be a perspective that is not one-way.MY: Do you mean multiple perspectives or perhaps even inverse perspectives?KH: It can be thought of as multiple perspectives because there doesn’t have to be a single subject. If you’re looking at one subject, the inverse perspective is also possible.MY: It doesn’t mean, for example, that you are wrapping a photograph of materials that have been covered in wrap, does it?KH: Right, it doesn’t mean that. It resembles the exhibition space that I’m creating. There are multiple perspectives that change according to where you stand. This “wrap” is also a device for multiple perspectives.MY: In other words, one photograph has been taken through one lens so it’s a single viewpoint, and from there, multiple viewpoints are obtained through this copious display of photographs. Furthermore, the view can completely change depending on where you stand in the installation. In this sense, the multiple perspectives add up, and the wrap is something that partially obstructs the field of vision. The wrap itself becomes a distinct layer, creating a situation of intricate distortions and permeations, not completely, only partially, obstructing. We can perhaps even imagine seeing this way from the stand-point of the photographs. What is the thickness of the wrapped photographs about?

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 33KH: I was asked before if I wanted to display volume with the thickness [of the wrap], but it’s not about volume. My intent is to alter the object of the gaze, so in order to make it to stand out, I built up the thickness by putting it together with Styrofoam and then wrapping them.MY: It’s like a base. You made the invitation for this event with plastic wrap. You cut it out of photo-graphic prints, didn’t you?KH: I cut each one the same size, covered it in wrap, and pasted it on the front [of the invitation].MY: You like to make work for yourself, don’t you?KH: It seems like it [laughs].MY: Not only is there a lot of manual work in the darkroom for your photo production, but even when we look at the invitation, we can see a “ghost of manual labor.” Does the physical labor of photographic production make you happy?KH: Yes, I suppose so . . .MY: Even if what you are shooting isn’t quite dystopian, it’s not happy and harmonious, but — and I hope I’m not mistaken — this work actually seems to be immensely enjoyable for you.KH: The work is enjoyable, but, if pushed, I’d say that it is close to manual labor. If I admit to it being enjoyable, then it becomes a fetish. If it becomes a fetish, then the distance between me and the things that I make becomes too close, which isn’t good. So, I maintain conditions for myself that do not afford enjoyment, like trying to make 100 prints in one night, or developing a 30-meter roll in the bathroom.

34MY: You have done group exhibitions along with your solo shows. What about commissions that ask you to provide three pieces, for example? What do you do in those cases?KH: Right now, a work that was collected by the MAST Foundation in Italy is being exhibited in a group show. When I participated in the Fotofestival in Germany in 2015, I completely filled the walls, space, and floor with 8 × 10 prints, rolls, and wrapped works, just like this exhibition.6 The MAST Foundation acquired the 600 prints and 8 wraps that made up the surface of one of the walls. That wall was 12 meters long and 3 meters high, but I wonder if it can’t be thought of as a single entity.MY: Indeed, for your style that is a single entity.KH: It would be difficult if it were too small, but if you have a wall of a certain size you can think about what can be done with it. It’s possible that you might come up with new ideas when you consider the various limitations.MY: I’d like to ask about your thoughts on photography. Who are some of the photographers that you like?KH: When I was considering what I should do with photography, I attended a workshop by Kanemura Osamu. I had the opportunity to see one of his exhibitions at the Kawasaki City Museum in 1999, and I remember it was a work that filled a closed-off space with photographs on large-format paper. When I saw it, I assumed that he was an artist who made installation works using photography. I thought that Kanemura’s work was displayed as a collection rather than as individual items and that the entire room was made to be a [work of] abstract expression materialized through photography. Although this is6. Komatsu’s installation, “Sanitary Bio-Preservation,” was included in the “Urbanism and Real Estate” section of the 6th Fotofestival exhibition curated by Urs Stahel, entitled, “[7] Places [7] Precarious Fields,” in Mannheim, Ludwigshafen, and Heidelberg in September-November 2015.

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 35probably a misreading of his work.MY: What do you mean by abstract?KH: Like how Mark Rothko’s brushstrokes and colors overlap — when you look closely you can see the brushstrokes, and when you move back, you can see the field of color. Of course, drawing by hand is different from using a camera, but I thought that Kanemura was doing something similar.MY: When you said abstract, I thought you meant conceptually, but you meant abstract painting? That’s interesting. Working at an art museum, my job is to explain works of art, and I have been asked what Rothko’s paintings are about. But it’s impossible to say, “This is about (fill in the blank).” Mark Rothko was someone with a lot to say, but because he was so obsessively precise, his paintings became flatter and flatter. In the end, I think he confronts just the surface, or, I should say, that’s one side of abstraction. Is this close to the abstraction that you were thinking of?KH: It’s all about confronting the surface, right? I think that’s close. When I saw Kanemura’s work, I thought that it was a presentation of surface within the printed paper’s gradations from white to black.MY: It’s like what Fukuhara Shinzō said, “Photography is gradation.”7 That’s what you see.KH: “Photography is gradation,” and, at the same time, he photographs many things. It’s strange to say that the subject matter looks the same, but Kanemura’s photographs can look the same depending on how you look at them. This might be influencing me when I create work. It’s like creating a space where you cannot recall the photographed subject matter in detail later . . .7. Fukuhara Shinzō (1883-1948) was a Japanese pictorialist photographer. In addition to running the Shiseidō Apothecary (now the famous cosmetics company), Fukuhara published the magazine Shshin geijutsu (Photographic Art) and founded the Nihon Shashin Kai (The Japan Photographic Society).

36MY: You can’t recall it in detail, but the whole of it stays with you. With abstract painting, I think that there is often a certain harmony, a sense of creating a single world as a whole. But the things that you photograph are the opposite of harmony — things that are violently tossed, to the point of extreme entropy. Each one is a standard size, but they are things that have already deviated from the norm. I have the impression that the value flattens when they are gathered together.KH: If we examine them closely, overcrowding and depopulation appear to reach the same point. As you pointed out, my photographic subject is “things that are of a standard size but have already deviated from the norm.” But when I’m producing, I attach a lot of importance to the standard size. I am constantly aware that I am making works using industrial materials. For instance, even the photo-graphic paper — these days it is sold in 20- or 30-meter rolls, but I use it as it was made. I don’t alter the standard size. I don’t cut it and use only the parts that I need.MY: Photo paper certainly comes in a standard size, and the things that you photograph are also made according to standards. What sort of importance do you attach to the standard size?KH: I think it’s a matter of leaving parts of my own work beyond my control.MY: It’s accepting things a priori, right? With abstract art, there is a method of composing called “pattern painting” in which the painting is made in complete accordance with rules that you create yourself, and what I’m hearing is that you felt an affinity for this kind of work. It’s the first time that I have heard of a photographer doing abstraction, so I feel like it is good to be able to make that clear; that it is a process of abstraction. While it’s been an interesting conversation, I have the feeling that we haven’t quite arrived at the secret to your work. What else would you like to say today?KH: Until this [show], I exhibited in smaller galleries and spaces. Because I begin with the size of the

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 37venue, the components of my exhibitions have been growing little by little, and it’s recently become too much. And tht has added to the entropy — reaching a point where I didn’t know what was going on. The αM gallery’s exhibition space is really big, and I was very pleased to be able to put on a show that I wanted to do. Thank you so much for this opportunity.MY: I think your work has gradually changed since I first saw it, yet your singular process still comes through. I still feel like I want to learn more about the secret to your work. Do you have any plans after this?KH: Something that I’ve recently added to my installations is an 8-mm film. I filmed my installations with an 8-mm camera, converted it to digital, and I play it in the exhibition space on a CRT television. Having a former exhibition brought into another exhibition causes different times to coexist in a single space, and it’s also connected to arranging the 8 × 10 prints so that they are detached from any chronological order. Light and sound are emitted when you use a projector, so I converted the 8-mm film to digital and show it on a DVD. At present, I am finding it difficult to decide how to handle light and sound as components of the venue. I’m considering whether I should include not only photography in the exhibition but also, for example, an 8-mm film that I shot of the “industrial districts.”MY: I am curious about what sorts of places you are shooting. Since 8-mm film is so rare, I really want to see it on a projector.KH: I may come up with ideas for what to include at the exhibition space.MY: So you are also about to take on film as well. You’re getting busier and busier. Photographic prints and film could be considered classic techniques, but photography is headed in the direction of data.

38You are going in the other direction, so do you have any thoughts on digital photography?KH: When I first started photography, shooting in monochrome and developing and printing myself was the cheapest way that I could work with large quantities. It’s precisely because of that that I began including a large number of prints in a single exhibition.MY: It was cheap and simple, but that’s no longer the case.KH: But film and photographic prints are still in circulation, so I think as long as they continue, so will I. There is certainly a way to say that digital photography is “photography,” but I think that “photography” that uses monochrome film is a separate medium.MY: I think it’s quite difficult to group everything from daguerreotypes to albumen prints, gelatin silver, and digital together under the word “photography,” because they each have quite different character-istics. You want to go as far as you can with the medium of your choice, right? I thought that was the case. Now let’s open it up for questions.Questioner 1: I’m wondering about your motivation and reasons for choosing photography.KH: It’s because I can do it alone. I also started because there’s nothing heavy involved, and it doesn’t require complicated or expensive equipment. I don’t need motivation to continue the work. I’ve already decided to do it. There isn’t much emotion to it. I do it because I’ve decided to do it.MY: I heard that before photography, you made music — what kind?KH: I’m embarrassed to say that it was kind of loud. I understand now that music is also something that you can do on your own, but at the time I thought that music was something born of human

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 39relationships, so I didn’t think that I could do it by myself.Questioner 2: The size of the photographic paper is different, but could you please tell us about the types of film and equipment that you use?KH: Everything is made with a 35-mm camera. I only have one camera, the Leica M3 that I use, but it doesn’t have a light meter. I operate the aperture and shutter speed based on my intuition — so it’s a good camera for welcoming mistakes. And, because you can’t get a negative with a uniform appearance, when I print without an exposure test, happily, the results are varied.Questioner 2: Don’t you also use a red or yellow filter?KH: The contrast is slightly increased with a red or yellow filter and they make everything look like a “cool photo,” so I don’t use them.Questioner 2: Do you trim the large format paper?KH: The large format paper is a test piece for the rolls. I do a test as you would when developing the rolls. Then I make the wrapped works by packaging the test pieces.Questioner 3: I am reminded of the Bechers’ first book, Anonymous Sculpture: A Typology of Industril Buildings that’s made up of individual photographs but the overall feel matches.8 I’d like to ask you about the possibility of such a typology.8. In 1970, the German photographers Bernd Becher (1931-2007) and Hilla Becher (1934-2015) published the influential photobook, Anonymous Sculpture: A Typology of Industril Buildings, a collection of photographs of defunct industrial buildings, such as silos, blast furnaces, and gasometers. The Bechers’ serial presentation of the photographs elevates the subject matter to the realm of aesthetic contemplation as viewers are able to identify commonalities and variations among the respective typologies; hence, their description of these buildings as “anonymous sculpture.”

40KH: “Made up of individual photographs but the overall feel matches” — that’s right. You can’t construct a space just from a large number of photographs. Each photograph must be precise. I had a major failure with an exhibition when I created a space mainly from rolls and tried to add a large number of 8 × 10 prints. I wondered what it would look like to try and display a lot of the remaining 8 × 10 prints, along with the rolls, after I had selected the photographs to print as rolls from the 8 × 10s that I normally print, and I actually exhibited it. It made the wall that was made up of the 8 × 10 prints look weak and really bad. We’re not talking about music, but just like what happens when you repeatedly hit a percussion instrument — each individual sound needs to be precise; I think that you have to compose with the strength of each individual photograph.Questioner 3: What do you think of the comparison to the Bechers?KH: I don’t do that style of presentation, but I certainly shoot a lot of the same types of things, so I think it’s possible to gather only images of wooden pallets or only blue sheets.MY: The Bechers regard things like solo water towers as anonymous sculpture, but your focus is on the practical installations that someone has arranged. The surface of the city in the twenty-first century is immaculate, but, as the factory installations where work is being done seem to be quite similar to each other, it might be possible to see a typology. You picture things that we don’t normally see, and their power comes from that fact that the things that cannot be seen are confronting us here. Based on today’s discussion, you may not be a social documentary photographer, but even if it’s not quite social criticism, I think that there is a message to be found in the depths of this work.KH: What I’m revealing, what you can see here, are the foundations of society. I think it’s crucial that there are places where things are exposed, where both the power of construction and the power of destruction are visible.

Artist Talk: Komatsu Hiroko x Mitsuda Yuri 41MY: It’s practical, so it has become unavoidable to do it this way. Filled and crammed with things that we don’t normally have the chance to see, it’s not a counterattack, but a place where things emerge from beyond the surface. The words, “The Execution of Personal Autonomy” are certainly interesting, but when it comes to “execution,” it makes me feel something about all these materials. And it is an assemblage of materials that has a different principle of combination from, say, that of traditional aesthetics, like flower arranging or hanging scrolls. I feel like “The Execution of Personal Autonomy” turns things inside out. Thank you everyone.KH: Thank you.

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Komatsu Hiroko’s Photographic Overload43Komatsu Hiroko’s Photographic OverloadBy Franz PrichardKomatsu Hiroko generates an abundance of photographic prints for her site-specific installations, both as neatly arranged photographs and also as large rolls of industrial-grade photographic paper suspended vertically, spilled over the print-covered floor, and unrolled around each gallery’s unique space. The experience of being swallowed up within the installation evokes inexpressible sensations, and the abundance of photographs and multiple photographic materials unsettles the dominant modes of visual consumption. Komatsu’s installation practice invites us into an experience of photography that enables embodied forms of affect generated through specific photochemical and material processes.To describe our active engagement with Komatsu’s photography as “viewing” is insufficient; it is a full- body experience with multi-sensorial aspects. I see Komatsu’s photography as an interface that mplifies the exchanges between the photographic prints, photographed materials, and our embodied responses to her work. Drawing parallels to positive feedback loops performatively invoked in experimental noise music, I suggest an aesthetics of overload generated by Komatsu’s photography. Komatsu photographically, rather than sonically, renders a noisy, expressive form of feedback that saturates our sensorial capacities through each installation’s assemblage of material practices.Komatsu’s 2017 installation at Musashino Art University’s gallery αM, The Execution of Personl Autonomy, consisted of over 3,000 8 × 10-inch photographic prints, 885 feet of photographic paper

44rolls, (nine rolls, each almost 100 feet long by 4 feet wide), and nine photographic prints (20 × 24 inches) mounted on panels and wrapped in packing wrap, one CRT monitor displaying a video transfer of an 8mm film, and one short text. While it is difficult to grasp by numbers alone, the immediate impact is the overwhelming magnitude of photographs encompassing the viewers as they traverse the gallery space. Stepping precariously upon the carefully arranged prints on the floor, the viewer is at once compelled to enter into direct contact with, and become encompassed by, the installation. With floors and walls covered, the space is filled further with long rolls of large photographic paper suspended at varying intervals by wires, unrolled in overlapping piles, and unfurled across the smaller prints on the floor.Except for the ceiling, each plane of the gallery contains multiple photographic points of view, denying the fixed distances through which the viewing of photographs is typically derived. Moreover, the viewer is confronted with manifold layers of prints and rolls of photochemical paper in defiance of the singular frames that typically govern art objects in gallery spaces. Meaning is usually thought to be produced by viewing photographs in isolation or in sequences. While the imagery itself is clear in each of Komatsu’s photographs, the excessive amount of printed material unsettles these codified modes of viewing. Still, meaning is not effaced through the proliferation of the photographs. Rather, Komatsu seeks different types of meanings through the mplifiction of photochemical processes and materials. As a practice of photography that does not rely on communicative models of information or aesthetic transmission, what are some ways we can make sense of the provocative embodied affects that Komatsu’s installations generate?The Invisible Infrastructures of Urban LifeAccording to Komatsu, she has been photographing industrial sites around Tokyo for roughly ten years, never returning to the same place more than once. Of these, most are secondary industrial sites, places

Komatsu Hiroko’s Photographic Overload45where materials are stored for use by utility companies, for the production of construction materials, for use in food processing, and as part of the process of manufacturing.¹ Referring to such areas as “industrial districts,” Komatsu describes how these sites make up a vast continuum of small to large companies that constitute the base of the capitalist economy.² Despite the impression of cluttered things that could be either discarded scrap or unused materials, Komatsu describes her efforts to photograph the ever-shifting appearances of things that have been arranged according to obscure rules determined by their use at each site.³ For instance, in Komatsu’s photographs we find chaotic-but-ordered piles, such as steel used in concrete construction, photographed from a relatively fixed proximity, often including different angles on the same cluster of objects as the artist traverses the site. Although the rules governing the ordered arrangement of accumulated materials may be unknown to both Komatsu and the viewer, Komatsu’s specific approach to photographing the vibrant life-worlds of things neither beautifies nor deprives them of any charm. Instead, her laborious photographic attention to the messy specificities of each site carefully renders the industrial materials more like 1970s conceptual art installations than a typology of vernacular industrial architecture akin to that of Bernd and Hilla Becher or the ready-mades of high modernism. What becomes clear through Komatsu’s photographs of industrial sites might be described as the material unconscious of the myriad invisible,1. Komatsu Hiroko, “Basho no gengoka,” (“putting place into language”), posted January 7th, 2017, http://komatsu-hiroko.com/essays-5 Komatsu has written much about her work in a series of short essays posted on her website, an indispensable resource for learning more about the extensive range of her work.2. Komatsu uses the term substructure in its Marxian sense. “Artist Talk: Hiroko Komatsu and Yuri Mitsuda,” Mirror Behind Hole: Photogrphy into Sculpture, 129. CITE THIS VOLUME.3. Ibid., 131.4. This is especially clear in the handmade photobooks such as Port Are, Ski, Osk 12:00 - 14:00, My 4, 2010 self-published in 2016. Komatsu describes her approach to these photobooks and their relation to the shooting location in Essay #11 “Sastuei Basho,” (“Shooting Location”), posted March 11th, 2017, http://komatsu-hiroko.com/essays-115. In fact, Komatsu has noted her interest in Mono-ha (the 1960s Japanese conceptual art movement led by Lee Ufan and Sekine Nobuo) and the resemblance of these industrial sites with art installations in her interview with critic Takazawa Kenji in Ashi Cmer, April 2018.

46indeterminate processes at play in the ceaseless reproduction of an urban expanse under capitalist relations of production. Komatsu’s photographic subjects make present the immense, unfamiliar infrastructures and logistics of a capitalist urban order that intimately informs our everyday but that remain always just beyond the thresholds of our awareness.Photographic OverloadHow does the viewer fit within this assemblage of photographic materialities and photographed things? One possible way to grasp the dynamic interplay of Komatsu’s installation practice is in relation to the musical anti-genre of noise music. David Novak’s seminal study of Japanese noise music, Jpnoise: Music t the Edge of Circultion, vividly details the predominance of the generation of sonic feedback by noise musicians making use/abuse of commonly available musical equipment patched together in creative ways. The hallmark of these performances is intensive forms of exchange between the “noisicians,” their assembled sound systems, and the audience through which feedback is unleashed and modulated in a variety of ways. Crucially, Novak notes the nonlinear nature of the positive feedback loops generated in these performances: Rather than being absorbed in homeostasis and control, individual differences can also be accumulated and amplified. In fact, feedback often spins out of control precisely because senders and receivers are not invested in continuing a holistic social field of transmission or in emulating past performances. Instead, they change direction. When feedback becomes generative of something new — in the case of audio circuits, when it becomes a sound in itself — it is described as “positive.” Positive feedback loops are not self-regulating but self-reinforcing. They amplify change with each cycle, emphasizing the gain6. Komatsu describes her efforts to render sensible the entanglement of capitalist modes of production and modes of destruction materialized at these specific industrial sites in Essay #13 “Hakai no seisan,” (“The Production of Destruction”), posted March 24th, 2017, http://komatsu-hiroko.com/essays-13. Obviously, for those working at such sites, the connective relations among these materials and their role in the reproduction of a normative urban order is a lived intimacy rather than a photographed proximity.

Komatsu Hiroko’s Photographic Overload47 of new results over continuity and balance.Although I don’t think we can simply attribute the similarities between noisicians’ predilection for positive feedback and Komatsu’s photographic process to her background as an experimental musician, there is a profound resonance between the two modalities. The key differences are also telling: each generates its own form of intensive embodiment, one based on primarily auditory intensities, the other on primarily visual intensities, (although both are arguably multi-sensorial as well). However, to understand how a noise-like production of positive feedback might be operative in Komatsu’s work, it is useful to flesh out the self-reinforcing loops informing the installation’s material processes.First, Komatsu’s installation is not invested in the reproduction of homeostasis and equilibrium. We have seen how Komatsu’s work disrupts the self-contained circuits of static meanings, how the unsettling, embodied affects that the installations generate are not products of a unidirectional process of representation or signification originating in the photographed things and terminating in the viewers’ gaze. Instead, a feedback loop is generated through the viewer’s embodied experience of two discrete domains within the capitalist relations of production and consumption. Komatsu’s installation process and the flood of photographic materials produce a momentary, self-reinforcing interface between the sites of capital reproduction (the “industrial districts”) and the gallery space. By bridging these seemingly discrete poles of capitalist economic orders, the cascading materialities within and of the photographic interface overload the static hierarchies that divide these spaces. Second, the continuous evolution of the material processes mobilized in each installation establishes an intensive mode of positive feedback among each iteration of Komatsu’s work, amplifying and modulating the interface of the installation anew each time. Komatsu’s continual process of reinstalling portions of prior works and modifying the installation’s contours with novel additions and subtractions further overloads the bounded spatial-temporal dimensions sustaining the reproduction of value (whether artistic or monetary) within the circuits of capital.7. David Novak, Jpnoise: Music t the Edge of Circultion (Durham: Duke University Press, 2013), 152.

48In Komatsu’s installations, the interface among industrial and photographic materialities are visually overloaded through this dual-loop exchange, saturating the viewer’s sensorial capacities with materialities amplified through the installation process. In so doing, flows of matter and energy are diverted and re-mediated from their established pathways, and the viewers’ own embedded positions within capital’s reproductive logistics are made sensible as parts of a momentary assemblage. The unsettled sensations unleashed through Komatsu’s photography register these flows as the embodiment of an intensively affirmative mode of feedback and exchange.Komatsu’s photographic overload offers a crucial counterpoint to the normalizing force of the sensorial inundations that inform the urban milieu. By transposing the ordered chaos of industrial sites into the art complex, Komatsu’s photography registers a novel, embodied sense of art’s own managed environments. Becoming simultaneously engulfed within both the material substrates of capital’s reproductive infrastructures and the aesthetic superstructures, the viewer’s bodily capacities become enmeshed with the overload of photographic materialities in the gallery space. Komatsu’s installations enable visitors to embody diffuse processes that supersede human-centric understandings of autonomous subjectivities and hierarchies of meaning. The overloading of affect generates an acute attunement to our embeddedness within innumerable material processes critical to the reproduction of our everyday lives in an urban milieu, such as the regulatory regimes of waste management and pollution control, the indeterminate influences of autonomous algorithmic data processes, or the involuntary administrative protocols governing whose lives and deaths matter. Komatsu’s photographic overload thus opens and perforates the bounded perspectives of the individuated human subject to an encounter with transformative potentials for differently understanding the relations among worlds, humans, and nonhumans.

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Walk the Apocalypse51Walk the Apocalypse: Komatsu Hiroko’s Experimental Visual Research in the Context of “The Work of Art in the Age of Post-Industrial Society”By Umezu GenIt’s the fall of 2017 at Tokyo’s Gallery αM. A solo exhibition of works by Komatsu Hiroko, an over-whelming corpus of work, a thicket of printing paper, a flood of printing paper. Pushing my way through that forest, minding my feet and walking around, Carl Andre’s book Quincy comes to mind. I am struck by the idea that I am wandering the landscapes presented in that book. Treading on Komatsu’s photographs, “Walk the Apocalypse” is the phrase that springs to mind, although Komatsu and Andre’s photographs are just ordinary scenes.※Komatsu and Andre come from different places, but they have one thing in common: their work stands within the emerging “art of post-industrial society,” encapsulating a firm overview of the trends in the art world since the Minimal Art movement of the late 1960s. Andre is a well-known representative of that movement, but Komatsu is of a different generation. In Japan, the Mono-ha movement appeared in the late 1960s. In the context of over fifty years now of post-industrial society, from the period of the Mono-ha movement to present day, Komatsu can be seen, broadly speaking, as part of this post-industrial society. If Mono-ha was the manifestation of a keen response to the dawn of post-industrial society — with materiality as its medium — Komatsu Hiroko is an artist who manifests a keen response

52to the twilight of post-industrial society, with photographs and images as her medium.While most Mono-ha works were ephemeral, the visual identity of the works depended on photo-graphs. Therefore, with Mono-ha, one encounters a situation where both the reality of the artwork and its recollection via photographs are evoked simultaneously. Komatsu’s photographs are filled with a sensibility that strongly resembles that expressed in the documentary photographs of Mono-ha works; they invert the expression “Mono-ha photographs” into “photographic Mono-ha.” This inverted world leads to deconstruction, disintegration, collapse, and elimination. Alluding to the fact that at some point all things decay, Komatsu’s photographs show that production and destruction are one and the same. This is the manifestation of her keen response to the twilight of post-industrial society.The images shown in Komatsu’s exhibition play a very important role. A primitive CRT monitor seems to come flying out of one of her photographs, imparting the sense that the world inside the photograph is suddenly right before our eyes. And then scenes of Komatsu’s past exhibitions appear on the monitor, implying that we have left reality behind. We are giddy and under assault, and we don’t know where we are. That is because we appear to be both looking at Komatsu’s show, and also to be inside the scenes of her past exhibitions as shown in the monitor. In recent years, images projected on the floor have conveyed the sense of a bottomless swamp revealing the cyclical process of Komatsu’s production and exhibition in an even more entrancing fashion.“Reflexiveness” is an important quality in Komatsu’s images. There are two aspects to this reflexiveness. The first involves the fact that in Komatsu’s installations an overwhelming quantity of printing paper fills the exhibition space. The “reflexiveness” in Komatsu’s work is a visual phenomenon analogous to acoustic feedback or howling in a musical context. In other words, Komatsu’s exhibitions are flooded with printing paper, causing the photographs to “howl.”Secondly, in the field of sociology there is a concept known as “reflexive modernization.” This refers to the possibility of the creative self-destruction of the era of industrial society. From this theory, we can

Walk the Apocalypse53see that the principle of “reflexive modernization” also applies to art. The art of post-industrial society shows us the limits and contradictions of modernism, and how modernism is destroyed from within. This is where the importance of Komatsu Hiroko’s work can be seen: in its radical logic of “subject-less-ness” and “object-less-ness,” her photographs are the nullification of “expression” in the modern sense. Also, if we consider the argument that a society in which reflexiveness is expanding is marked by both the disappearance of tradition and the rediscovery of that tradition, Komatsu’s photographs and images may seem to suggest that traditional methods have been ruined. At the same time, however, they remind us that forgotten methods are also being rediscovered.※Walk the Apocalypse — If you linger as you walk through Komatsu Hiroko’s exhibition, the experience will lay bare what it means to live day-to-day in post-industrial society, whether you want it to or not. Facing those base materials directly, proceeding slowly through the exhibition, as if for all time, we may come to see what the world will look like after humans disappear, the World of the Book of Revelations.

54 Plates 図版

55Installation of Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction at the Davis Museum

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58 Installation of Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction at the Davis Museum

59Installation of Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction at the Davis Museum

60 Installation of Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction at the Davis Museum

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68 Installation of Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction at the Davis Museum

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71Installation of Komatsu Hiroko: Creative Destruction at the Davis Museum

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78Figure 1 - 「ブロイラースペース」光景、2010-2011年

異なる未来へ向かう写真79Yoshiaki Kai, “The Predicament and the Reflexive Turn: Japanese Street Photography since 1990,” Review of Japanese Culture and Society 31 (2019), 99.

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異なる未来へ向かう写真81Figures 2-5 -

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異なる未来へ向かう写真835. Cairns and Jacobs, Buildings Must Die, 127.Figure 6 - Untitled, 2017 󰮤

84󰮥󰮦6. Frederic Jameson, “Future City,” New Left Review 21 (May-June 2003), 69.7. Carrie Cushman, “Temporary Ruins: Miyamoto Ryūji’s Architectural Photography in Postmodern Japan,” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 2018), 71-6.

異なる未来へ向かう写真85Figure 7 -   󰮧8. Ibid., 75-6.

86󰮨󰮢9,10. Georges Didi-Huberman, “History and Image: Has the ‘Epistemological Transformation’ Taken Place?” trans. Vivian Rehberg, in The Art Historian: National Traditions and Institutional Practices, ed. Michael F. Zimmermann (Williamstown: Sterling and Francine Clark Institute, 2003), 128-143.

異なる未来へ向かう写真8711. Margaret Olin, Touching Photographs (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012), 3.12. 

88 󰕁     󰕊13. Jameson, “Future City,” 77

異なる未来へ向かう写真89

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アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 91アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり2017年9月9日次のインタビューは、DIC川村記念美術館キュレーター光田ゆり氏が武蔵野美術大学ギャラリーαMで予定した『鏡と穴：彫刻と写真の界面』という展覧会の際で2017年9月9日に光田氏と小松浩子氏に行われました。小松氏の厳しい撮影管理とインスタレーションの方法について会談して、モチベーションや異色な方法に対する洞察力を与えてやりました。光 田：本日はαM第四回目小松浩子さんの個展になります。みなさん会場に入られてハッとされたと思うのですが、まずは展示に関して小松さんにコメントをお願いします。小 松：今回の展示で使用した印画紙は、六切が3000枚以上、幅110cmのロールは長さが270m、《wrap》という大全紙の印画紙をスタイロフォームと一緒に透明フィルムで梱包した作品は9点あります。光 田：まず数のことを仰いましたね。よく写真展の説明では「これらは◯◯を写した写真です」とか「◯◯を追いかけたドキュメンタリーです」など、テーマがよく言われるのですが。「3000枚」という「数」から展示を言うことについて聞きたいと思います。小 松：私にとって量がたくさんあることは重要です。撮影からフィルムを現像して六切にプリントするまでが一つの流れになっていて、日常的にその流れを繰り返しています。展示が決まると会場のサイズや形からイ

92ンスタレーションの内容が決まり、それに対して必要な写真の枚数が決まります。この展覧会のために何枚プリントするという感覚ではなく、まず日常作業の連続があって、その流れの中から「数」を認識しています。光 田：私が初めて小松さんの作品を拝見したのは、目黒区民ギャラリーの広い地下空間をお一人で埋めた展示（「ブロイラースペース時代の彼女の名前」、2012年）です。そのときも、今日初めてご覧になられた方と同じように度肝を抜かれました。この人は写真を憎んでいるのかしら、それとも愛かと混乱するくらい量がすごくて。小松さんが写真を数へ還元することは非常に特異だと思います。それには、最初から同じような場所で撮影していることが関係していると思うのです。被写体になっている場所を小松さんはなんと呼んで いる の でしょうか 。小 松：私は撮影している場所を「工業地帯」呼んでいます。大きい工場の周縁に下請けの小さい工場が集まっている場所が、全国にたくさんあります。資本主義経済の下部構造を支える「工業地帯」を撮影対象としています。光 田：資材置き場ですか？それとも資材を廃棄しているような場所でしょうか？小 松：資材と廃材が混在しています。資材が廃材と同じように崩れて見えるのは、私たちには理解できないルールで使いやすいように並べているのだと思います。共通のルールを持たない者にとっては、これらの場所は意味から解放されていて開放感があり自由に見えるのです。今回の展示のためのテクストで光田さんが撮影対象と私の距離の取りかたに着目して書いてくださっていますよね。集積したものの間に入り込むと私の一歩一歩で生じる位置の変化で、ものたちが次々と違う表情を見せるのでシャッターを押しながらひたすら動き続けています。光 田：決して広い場所ではないのですね。本当は広いのかもしれないですが、ぎっしりして見えますね。小 松：広い場所も狭い場所もありますが、いずれにしてもぎっしりして見える距離の取り方をしています。

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 93光 田：遠くから俯瞰する写真ではなく、置かれているものと向き合って撮影された写真かなと感じます。小 松：そうですね。光 田：何年間くらい撮り続けているのでしょうか？小 松：2006年ごろに写真を始めたので、10年ほどです。光 田：写真を始められて被写体は変わっていないのでしょうか？小 松：ずっと対象は変わっていません。光 田：撮影の仕方もそんなに変わっていないのでしょうか？小 松：少しずつ変化はあると思いますが、基本的には同じだと思います。光 田：どんな変化がありましたか？小 松：始めた頃は目の前にあるもの自体しか眼に入っていない近視的な見方でしたが、もう少し視野が広がってものが置かれている状況が気になるようにもなりました。あとは背後との関係とか。光 田：背後とはなんでしょうか？小 松：ものが置いてある状況の背後ですね。少し視野が広がってきたことで目の前にある集積しているものだけでなく、その背後にある道路や建物、さらなる集積物が見えるようになりました。そこからプリントされる写真の画面構成を具体的に認識しているわけではないのですが、意識はするようになりました。それから以前は撮影の時の光の状態を気にしていましたが、いまは失敗してもいいや、という感じで、気にせず撮

94影しています。むしろ積極的に失敗を呼び込んでいる面もあります。光 田：小松さんにとって失敗した写真とはどんなものでしょうか？小 松：私にとっては結果的に失敗ではないのですけど。例えばネガ現像ではリールの巻き方が悪いと前の面とくっついてしまい現像されない部分ができる、これは一般に失敗とされています。この現像されない部分をそのままにしておいてプリントすると像が出るところと白いままの部分が混在したプリントが出来ます。このようなプリントも展示に使用しています。プリントは一般的には露光テストをしてトーンを揃えるのが良しとされていますが、私は露光テストをせずにプリントしているのでトーンが揃いません。最終的な形態である展示のことを考えていくうちに、きちんとトーンが揃っていないけれど、全体が明るいグレートーンになんとなく寄っている状態を目指すようになりました。光 田：つまり失敗はないわけですよね。そこにファインプリントではないものがあっても、むしろ呼び込みたいと。小 松：はい、むしろ呼び込みたいのです。でもわざと失敗するのはダメなのです。極力失敗しないようにしながら、大量にやることで負荷をかけて失敗を呼び込みます。光 田：均一なファインプリントを目指されていないということですね。それでも一枚一枚の写真も魅力的ですよね。撮影した順番は全然わからない展示方法なのですけど、どんな順番になっているのでしょうか？ロールは撮影順ですか？小 松：いいえ、撮影順にはなっていないです。一回の展示で必要な写真を取り分けて、そこからロールにするものを選ぶのですが、並びを決めるときには撮影した順番は無関係ですね。光 田：この写真の隣にどの写真が来るのとか、そういう組み合わせについてはどうなのでしょうか。

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 95小 松：ロールに関しては写真を選ぶときに六切プリントを並べてみて全体でどのように見えるかある程度は予想して選んではいます。でも結局は展示会場でも吊るしたり重ねて置いたり、壁に貼っても引きがないので、写真の隣どうしの絵柄の関係性を見ることが出来ません。ロールは自宅のお風呂場で現像しているのですが、水洗した後は暗室に使っている六畳間に干して乾かしています。180cmくらいの高さにワイヤーを何本も部屋を横切るように張って、濡れたロール印画紙をワイヤーに引っ掛けていきます。ここに展示している方法と全く同じですね。ワイヤーに引っ掛けて長さ30mのロール印画紙を干すと六畳間が印画紙で満たされた状態になります。制作の途中でも展示中でも絵柄を全部見ることはありません。光 田：今回のテーマは「写真と彫刻」ですけど、その一端は、写真をいかにして空間の中に存在させるのか、です。小松さんの存在のさせ方は見る人に物量で訴えかけてくる。しかも写っている像もたくさんのものが 一枚の中に写ってぎっしりと何か詰まっている。そういう像をこれほどの物量、しかも印画紙の存在として出すことを最初からやっていらしたのですね。小 松：初個展のときは、ロール印画紙を壁に二段がけにしました。壁の一部と床、空間には何もありませんでした。その後、私は写真を始めたのが遅いので10年分を一年間でやろうと考えて、自主ギャラリーの「ブロイラースペース」を一年間限定で運営しはじめました。仮に年に一度個展をやる人を基準にするとして、一年間で個展を10回やれば10年分になるという乱暴な発想から、毎月新作展をやることにしたのです。そこはもともと店舗に使われていた二階建てスペースで、そもそも展示できるスペースが少ないのです。私は展覧会では毎回必ず何かしら新しい要素を入れるということを自分に課しています。ロール印画紙を基準に、限られた空間で、六切や大全紙のプリントを足していくと直ぐにスペースが足りなくなりました。展示する壁面が足りないので、床に置いたり吊り下げたりと、徐々に壁からはみ出していった結果が今の展示形態なのです。光 田：床にびっしり展示するのは現在の到達点ですね。ブロイラースペースには二度ほどうかがったことがあって。まずご自分がされている場所にそういうタイトルをつけることに驚いて、後で由来もお聞きしたいのですが。甲州街道沿いのラーメン屋さんの並びでしたね、昭和な雰囲気で。

96小 松：ほとんど廃墟といった趣でした。光 田：不思議なスペースだったのですが、毎月展示されていて、見る方が追いつかない。スペースの名前も小松さんがつけられたのですか？小 松：そうですね。私はヴィーガンでもあるので、私にとってはこのスペースの名前とその思想が深く関わっています。光 田：今回のタイトルは「人格的自立処理」ですけど、聞きなれない言葉です。小 松：法律用語で「人格的自立権」という言葉がありますが、自分の生き方や生活について自分で決定する権利を指しています。修学や就職、恋愛や結婚をする／しない、自分の身体や生命の扱いについても本来私たちには自分で決める権利があるはずです。しかし実際には社会の規範や常識などに縛られることなく、何かを自分自身で決定して実行することは可能なのかと考えました。日々暮らしていると、自由であるつもりがかなり深い部分まで社会の規範や常識に囚われている自分に驚かされることがあります。そういうところから発想したりします。光 田：見る人へのメッセージでしょうか？小 松：メッセージというほど積極性を持っているわけではありません。言葉はそれ自体では何かを表すことは難しいかもしれませんが、言葉の連なりで何かを喚起することはできるかもしれないと思っています。光 田：そのことと写真との関係は？小 松：それ自体では何かを表すことが難しいという点において、言葉と写真は似ていると思っています。これはひとつの展示作品として提示していますが、一点一点の写真が集積して出来上がっています。その一点一点の写真は作られるときには私の生活と密接にあります。撮影、家のなかに暗室を作ってのプリント、展

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 97示をも含めて写真を中心として私の生活が回っています。タイトルは私の考えを発しているものではありますが、私自身はむしろ生活も全て含めて写真に奉仕する側にあります。光 田：この展示のテーマが「この作品のテーマがこういうことです」ということとは違うのですね。展示そのものは小松さんの生活と直結しているため、作品タイトルをつける感じとは違うと。小 松：そうですね。例えばもともとαMという空間があって、そこから発想して展示空間をつくっています。毎回異なる展示空間を作ることになるのでタイトルはいまこの場所のものに過ぎません。一貫して制作している作品のテーマを表すものではないですね。光 田：並べかたもどんな空間であっても対応できるということでしょうか。そういう考えはかなり独特に思うのですが。小 松：日々の積み重ねで一つ一つやっていくとこんな大きな空間を作ることができます。大きな資本や機械がなくても、人力で。自分のやっていることから、生き物の増殖を連想することがあります。細胞が集まって身体ができるとか、樹が集まって森ができるとか。光 田：ほっそりされた小松さんが毎回これほどの力技を出される、その秘訣はこの二本の手でやり続けていることなのですね。小 松：たくさん写真があるので、たくさん出したいのです。壁が足りないなら床でいいじゃない、という感じです。光 田：でもやはり写真を踏むことは、例えば「本を踏んではいけない」というのに似た抵抗を感じるのですが。小 松：この展示空間というのは、どなたかが来て見てくださるという前提でつくっています。その人がこの

98なかに入る状況をつくりたいのです。内側に入って欲しいのです。その人の立ち位置や背の高さといった身体的条件によって、さらにその時の精神状態によっても見え方が変わってくると思うのです。そして写真が床に敷いてあると精神的にも不安定になると思うのです（笑）。光 田：やはり攻撃的な仕掛けなのですね。小 松：はい、そういう意味でも写真が床にあってもいいと思うのです。光 田：身体感覚として非常に刺激的な体験になりますね。こちらのラップをされた作品について説明お願いします。小 松：私のお友達で日本語があまり上手ではない方がいて、唐突に、富士の樹海で梱包ラップに包まれた死体が見つかったと言うのです（笑）。いろいろ聞きたかったのですが、私も英語が得意ではなくて、お互い要領を得ず結局何があったのか分からなかったのです。そこから、金銭がらみのトラブルなのかとか、知ってはいけない秘密を知ってしまったのかとか、Vシネのような妄想で頭のなかがいっぱいになってしまいました。透明のプラスティックシートに梱包されている状態で、その人が最期に見た光景はラップ越しの樹海だろうと思いました。撮影のときに、透明のプラスティックシートに梱包されている資材は以前からよく見かけていましたが、この話を聞いたことで、この見慣れているはずのラップされた資材が気になるようになりました。その人の視線はラップの向こうから見ている視線、私が見ているのはラップの外側から見ている視線です。そうして考えているうちに、この写真を梱包した作品、《wrap》というものをつくろうと思いました。光 田：資材がラップに包まれて、小松さんはそれをラップの外から見ている。だけど、資材はラップの中から世界を見ることがあるのではないのかと。それを逆転させるために。小 松：私自身が目を使って見ることができるのは一方向だけですが、必ずしも一方向ではない視点があるはずだと思います。

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 99光 田：それは多視点なのでしょうか。それとも逆方向でしょうか。小 松：多視点とも捉えられますね。対象が一つである必要はないので。ひとつの対象を見ているとすると逆方向でもありえますね。光 田：例えば、ラップに包まれた資材の写真をラップに包むということではないですよね。小 松：はい、そういうことではないですね。展示会場をつくることと似ています。どこに立つかによって見えかたが変わってくる、多視点ですよね。この《wrap》も多視点の一つの仕掛けです。光 田：つまり一枚の写真はレンズが一つなので一視点で、そこから数を出すことによって様々な視点を確保している。その上で、これだけのインスタレーションをすることで立ち位置によって見え方が全く変わる。そういう意味での多視点もそこに加わり、しかも視界を半ば遮るものとしてのラップ。完全に遮るのではなく半ば遮るものとして、不明確にラップ自体が層になっているので、複雑な屈折、透過の状況が生まれる。写 真の側からこちらを見ることを想定しこうなっているのでしょうか。この厚みはなんですか。小 松：以前この厚みに関して、量を表したいのですか？と聞かれたことがあったのですが、量のことではないのです。視線の方向を変えているつもりなので、他のものより際立っていてほしいという意味でスタイロフォームと一緒に梱包して厚みを出しています。光 田：台ということですね。ラップを使った案内状を今回作られましたよね。印画紙を切られたのですよね？小 松：一枚ずつ同じ大きさに切ってラップで包んでDMで貼っています。光 田：作業は好きですか？小 松：好きみたいですね（笑）。

100光 田：写真制作にも暗室など手作業が多いだけでなく、案内状を見ても「手作業の鬼」というか。その身体労働的な写真制作は、小松さんにとってはハッピーな感じですか？小 松：そうですねぇ…。光 田：写っているものがディストピアとはいかないまでも、ハッピーな調和的なものではないので見誤りそうなのですけども、もしかしてこの作業はすごく楽しい仕事ですか？小 松：作業は楽しくはあるですが、どちらかというと労働に近いです。楽しむことを許すとフェチが入りこんできます。フェチが入りこむと、つくったものと自分との距離が近くなり過ぎてダメだと思うのです。それで一晩で六切を百枚プリントしようとか、風呂場でロールを30m現像しようとか、楽しめる状況にならないように常に自分を余裕がない状態に置いています。光 田：小松さんは個展で発表されていますけど、グループ展もありますよね。例えば「あなたは三点出してください」という依頼などは、小松さんにとってはどうなんでしょうか？小 松：いまイタリアのMAST財団で収蔵された作品がグループ展で展示されています。これは2015年にドイツのフォトフェスティバルに参加したときに、今回と同じような感じで六つ切やロール、ラップなどで壁面も空間も床も埋めつくしたのですが、そのうちの六切600枚と《wrap》8点で構成した壁一面のみがMAST財団に収蔵されたのです。その壁は長さが12mで高さは3mあったのですが、それを単体と考えれば大丈夫なのではないでしょうか。光 田：なるほど、小松さん的にはそれが単体なのですね。小 松：あまり小さいと難しいですが、ある程度の大きさの壁面があれば、そこで何ができるか考えることができます。制限があると色々と考えますので新しい発想が生まれる可能性がでてきますね。

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 101光 田：小松さんの好きな写真家は誰でしょうか？写真をどう思っているのか聞きたいと思っていました。小 松：写真で何かをしようと思ったときに、金村修さんのワークショップに通うことにしました。1999年に金村さんの川崎市民ミュージアムでの展示が見る機会があったのですが、閉じた空間を大全紙の写真で埋める作品だったと記憶しています。それを見て私は、金村さんが写真を使ったインスタレーション作品をつくる芸術家だと思い込んでしまいました。金村さんの作品は、一点ずつ見せるのではなく集積で見せる作品であって、写真というとても強い具象を使って、部屋全体で抽象表現をしていると思ったのです。それは多分私の金村作品に対する誤読なのですが。光 田：そこでいう抽象というのは？小 松：マーク・ロスコの筆の運びや色が重なっている状態とか、近くで見るとそういうものが見えてきて離れると色面で見えてくるというところで、もちろん手で描くことと写真を使うことは違うのですが、金村さんが近いことをやっていると思ったのです。光 田：抽象とは概念的な話かと思ったのですけど、抽象絵画のことですか。それは面白いですね。美術館に勤めているため、作品の解説を仕事でやるのですが、ロスコの絵画の場合「何を表しているのですか？」と聞かれる場合があるのです。でも「これは◯◯を表しています」と言うのは無理なわけです。マーク・ロスコは言葉が心の中にいっぱいある人ですが、とても厳密で、厳密であるゆえに突き詰めていってどんどん絵もフラットになっていくのですけど。最終的には面とだけ向き合うというか、それは抽象のひとつの方向だと思うのです。それは小松さんの考えていらっしゃる抽象と近いでしょうか？小 松：面と向き合うしかないということですよね。近いと思います。金村さんの作品を拝見したときに、白から黒の印画紙の階調、その幅の中で面として見ることを提示なさっていると思いました。光 田：福原信三みたいですが、「写真は階調である」ということですね。そう見るということですね。

102小 松：「写真は階調である」と同時に、たくさんのものが写っています。対象が同じに見えるというと変ですが、金村さんの写真は見方によってはいつも同じ写真のように見えます。私が作品をつくるときに影響を受けているところはそういうところかもしれませんね。写っている対象が一つ一つ後で思い出せないような空間をつくるというような…。光 田：一つ一つは思い出せないけれど、全体として自分の中に入ってくるような。抽象絵画にはある程度の調和、全体として一つの世界を作る意識があることが多いと思うのです。でも、小松さんが撮っているものは調和とは逆方向、エントロピー増大の方向へ暴力的なまでに投げ出されているようなものたち。一つ一つは規格サイズだけれど、すでに規格をずれたものとなっている。それらが集まることで、価値がフラットになる、そういうイメージが浮かんだのですけども。小 松：過密と過疎はつきつめていくと同じところに到達するように思えます。光田さんがおっしゃっているように、確かに私は「規格サイズだけれど、すでに規格をずれたもの」を撮影対象としていますね。でも作業のときには規格サイズは重要視しています。工業製品を使用して作品をつくっているということを常に意識しています。例えば印画紙についても、現在ロール印画紙は20m巻のものと30m巻のもの販売されていますが、その会場に合わせて使い分けていて、規格サイズを自分で変更しないようにしています。必要な分だけ切って使うということはしません。光 田：確かに印画紙も規格サイズだし、撮影したものも規格で作られていますよね。規格サイズを重視するとはどういうことですか。小 松：自分の作業として手が入らない部分を残しておくことだと思います。光 田：アプリオリなものとして受け入れるのですね。抽象絵画にはパターン・ペインティングという描き方があって、自分で作ったあるルールにのっとり絵を描いていくのですが、お話を聞いているとそうした作品にも類縁性を感じました。自分は抽象をやっているという写真家は初めて聞いたので、そこのところをもっとうまく言えるといい感じがしますね。抽象か、なるほど。面白い話をうかがいながらも、小松さんの秘密になかな

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 103か辿りつけない感じがありますね。小松さんのほうで今日言い足りないことはありませんでしたか？小 松：これまではもっと小さいギャラリーやスペースで展示をしてきました。ここ最近では会場の広さに対して発表を始めてから少しずつ増えてきた展示の要素が多くなり過ぎて、それこそエントロピーの増大で、何がなんだかわからない状態になっていました。今回のαMは展覧会場としてはとても広くて、展示でやりたかったことをすっきりと提示することができて嬉しかったです。本当にこういうチャンスをいただいてありがとうござ いました 。光 田：初めて小松さんの展示を見て以来、少しずつ変わっていかれたと思うし、だけど小松さんらしさが貫通していて、その秘密を知りたいという気持ちもあります。なにか今後の計画はありますか？小 松：最近インスタレーションの要素に加わったのが8mmフィルムの映像です。展示したインスタレーションの中を、8mmカメラを持って歩き回って撮った映像をデジタル変換して、展示会場でブラウン管テレビに写して配置しています。以前の展示を別の展示に持ち込むということは異なる時間をひとつの場所に混在させることで、六切プリントを時系列から切り離して配置することにも繋がっています。映写機を使うと光と音がでるので、8mmフィルムをデジタル変換してDVD上映しています。いまのところ会場の構成要素として光と音の扱いをどうするか決めかねています。今後は会場での撮影だけではなくて、例えば「工業地帯」を8mmフィルムで撮影した映像を、展示に持ち込めないだろうかと考えているところです。光 田：どんな場所を小松さんが撮られるのか気になります。せっかく8mmがあるので、映写機で見たい気持ちもありますね。小 松：何か展覧会場に要素として持ち込むためのアイデアが浮かぶかもしれません。光 田：動画にも踏み出そうとされている。ますます忙しくなっていらっしゃいますね。印画紙やフィルムは古典的な技法と言っていいし、写真はデータへ向かうと思うのですけど。小松さんはそちらへは近づかなくて、そういうデジタル写真について思うことはないのですか？

104小 松：私が写真を始めた時には、モノクロフィルムで撮って自分で現像やプリントをするのが、一番安くて大量にできる方法だったのです。だからこそ大量のプリントを一回の展示で出すようになりました。光 田：安くて簡便でしたが、途中からそうではなくなってきましたが。小 松：でもまだフィルムも印画紙も流通していますので、続けられる限りは続けていこうと思います。確かにデジタル写真は「写真」という言い方をされていますが、私はモノクロフィルムを使った「写真」とは別の媒体だと思っているのです。光 田：「写真」という言葉でダゲレオタイプから鶏卵紙、ゼラチンシルバー、デジタルまでまとめていうのはかなり難しいと思います。それぞれかなり性格が違うので。ご自身が選ばれた媒体を行けるところまでやりたいということですね。きっとそうだろうと思いました。それでは質問を受けたいと思います。質問者1：写真を選ばれた理由とモチベーションについて教えて下さい。小 松：一人でできそうだったからです。重いものでもないし、複雑で高価な機材も必要がない、それで始めました。制作を続けるためにモチベーションをあげるとかそういうことはなくて、既に「やること」に決まっているのです。そこに感情の動きはあまりなくて「やること」に決まっているからやるのです。光 田：写真をやられる前は音楽をされていたとお聞きしたのですが、どういうものでしょうか。小 松：恥ずかしながら、ちょっとうるさいやつです。いまでは音楽も一人でできるもののひとつと理解しましたが、そのとき音楽は人との関係性から生まれていくものなのかと思っていて一人でできるものだと思っていなかったのです。質問者2：印画紙のサイズが違うのですが、フィルムや機材の種類について教えて下さい。

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 105小 松：すべて35mmカメラです。私はカメラを一つしか持っていなくて、ライカのM3を使っているのですが、露出計が付いていないので絞りやシャッタースピードを勘で合わせることになって、失敗を呼び込むためには良いカメラです。一定の状態のネガを得られませんから、テスト露光をしないでプリントすると仕上がりに良い具合にバラツキがでます。質問者2：レッドやイエローのフィルターも使われていないのでしょうか？小 松：レッドやイエローのフィルターを使うと少しコントラストがあがって、いわゆる「カッコいい写真」になるので使わないです。質問者2：大全紙のものはトリミングされているのでしょうか？小 松：大全紙はロールのテストピースです。ロールを伸ばすときはさすがにテストをします。そしてテストピースを梱包してラップの作品にしています。質問者3：ベッヒャーの初期の本『匿名的彫刻−工業的建造物のタイポロジー』を思い出しました。一つ一つの写真が構造化されていて、トーンが合うようになっている。そうしたタイポロジーの可能性についてお聞きしたいです。小 松：「一つ一つの写真が構造化されていて、トーンが合うようになっている」、そうなのです、大量の写真があれば会場を構成できるというわけではありません。一つ一つの写真がきちんとしてないとダメなのです。それまでロールを中心に会場を構成していて、大量の六切プリントを構成要素に加えようとしたときに、大きく失敗した展示がありました。普段プリントしている六切の中から、ロールをプリントするために写真を選んで抜き取った後の残った六切プリントを大量にロールとあわせて展示してみたら会場でどのように見えるかと考えて、実際に展示してみたのです。そしたら六切を構成してつくった壁の見えかたがとても弱くて本当にダメでした。音楽の話ではないですが、打楽器を連打したとしても一つ一つの音がきちんと響いていないとダメなように、写真一つ一つ強度があって、構成できていないとダメだと思いました。

106質問者3：ベッヒャーと比べるとどうでしょうか？小 松：私自身はそういう提示の仕方をしていませんが、確かに同じようなものがたくさん写っているので、木製のパレットだけ集めようとかブルーシートだけをといったことは可能だとは思います。光 田：ベッヒャーは単体の給水塔などを匿名の彫刻に見立てるわけですが、小松さんが見立てているものは、誰かが配置した実用的なインスタレーションです。けれど、今の21世紀の街のおもてはすごく綺麗ですけど、作業が行われている現場のインスタレーションはかなり似通ったものになっているようで、類型に見ることも可能かなと思いました。日頃じっと見ないものを小松さんは写しているのですが、見られることのないものがこちらを向いている迫力があると思います。小松さんの今日の話だと社会派の写真家ではないとのことですが、社会批判とまでいかなくてもメッセージを読みとれる厚みがあると思います。小 松：ここで見えている、見せているものは社会の構造です。造られているという力の方向と崩れているという力の方向が同時に現れて、ものがむき出しになっている場所があることが大事だと思います。光 田：実用的であり、そして仕方なくこうなっている。普通見る機会がないもので埋め尽くされたものの逆襲ではないですが、表ではない側からこちらへ来ている、そういう場所でもあると思います。「人格的自立処 理」という言葉自体は堅く面白いのですが、「処理」というところでこの資材たちになにかを感じるし、普通美意識で設えるとか生花を置いて掛け軸を置くとか、そういう組み合わせとは違う原理で組み合わされるという意味で、「人格的自立処理」が裏返って見える、そんな感じがしました。皆さんありがとうございました。小 松：ありがとうご ざ いました 。

アーティストトーク : 小松浩子×光田ゆり 107

108

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小松浩子による写真の過負荷111󰮣󰮤󰮥http://komatsu-hiroko.com/essays-5 http://komatsu-hiroko.com/essays-11http://komatsu-hiroko.com/essays-13

112       󰮦7. David Novak, Japanoise: Music at the Edge of Circulation (Durham: Duke University Press, 2013), 152.

小松浩子による写真の過負荷113󰓗

114

小松浩子による写真の過負荷115

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黙示録を歩く117黙示録を歩く：小松浩子における経験的な視覚の探究－「ポスト工業化社会の美術」に照らして梅津元2017年秋、東京、ギャラリーαM、小松浩子の個展、圧倒的な物量、印画紙の森、印画紙の洪水、森をかき分け、足元に気をつけ、歩き回る、カール・アンドレの“ QUINCY BOOK ”が脳裏をよぎる、この本におさめられた風景の中を彷徨っている感覚に襲われる、小松の写真を踏んで歩く、Walk the Apocalypse、そんなフレーズが想起される、小松の写真も、アンドレの写真も、日常的な光景のはずなのに。※出自が異なる小松とアンドレに共通するのは、1960年代後半、ミニマル・アート以後の美術の動向を俯瞰すると浮上する「ポスト工業化社会の美術」という文脈である。アンドレは、この文脈を代表する芸術家の一人であるが、小松はアンドレとは世代が異なっている。しかし、日本において「もの派」と呼ばれる動向が登場した1960年代末から現在に至る約50年を、「ポスト工業化社会の時代」と広く捉えることにより、小松をこの文脈において捉えることが可能となる。「ポスト工業化社会の幕開け」への鋭敏な反応が、物質を媒介として表出している動向が「もの派」であり、「ポスト工業化社会の黄昏」への鋭敏な反応が、写真や映像を媒介として表出している作家のひとりが小松浩子である。「もの派」において、多くの作品は一過性であり、この場合、作品の視覚的同一性は写真に依拠している。従って、「もの派」においては、作品における現前と、写真における想起が、同時に喚起される場面に遭遇す

118ることがある。小松の写真は、「もの派」の作品を記録した写真に表出する感覚と近似する感覚を湛えており、「もの派の写真」を「写真のもの派」へと裏返す。裏返った世界は、解体、崩壊、瓦解、消去へと向かう。小松の写真は、あらゆる存在がいつかは朽ち果てること、さらには、生産様式と破壊様式が同義であることを示しており、ここに、「ポスト工業化社会の黄昏」への鋭敏な反応が表出している。小松の展示に組み込まれた映像は、極めて重要な役割を果たしている。無骨なブラウン管モニターは、小松の写真から飛び出してきたようにも見え、写真の中の世界がいきなり眼前に迫ってくるような感覚をもたらす。さらに、そのモニターに映し出される小松の過去の展示の様子に見入っていると、現実世界から自分だけが離脱し、自分が何処にいるのかがわからなくなり、目眩に襲われる。なぜなら、モニターに写る過去の展示の光景に、いま、小松の展示を見ている自分の姿が写るような気がしてならないからである。さらに、近年は、床面にプロジェクションされる映像が、まるで底なし沼のような感覚をもたらし、小松の制作と展示における循環のプロセスが、さらに幻惑的に表出するようになっている。このように、小松の映像においては、「再帰性」が重要な特徴となっている。ここで、「再帰性」から想起されるふたつの局面がある。ひとつ目は、小松の展示において圧倒的な物量の印画紙が展示空間を埋め尽くす理由と関わっている。小松の映像において「再帰性」が特徴であることは、小松の展示において、音楽におけるフィードバックやハウリングと同様の原理が、視覚的イメージを表出する際に発生していることを示している。つまり、小松の展示における印画紙の洪水は、写真がハウリングを起こしている状態なのである。ふたつ目は、社会学における「再帰的近代化」という議論と関わっている。「再帰的近代化」は工業社会という時代の創造的な自己破壊の可能性を意味している、という議論からもわかるように、「ポスト工業化社会の美術」は、「再帰的近代化」の原理が美術においても作動していることを示している。従って、「ポスト工業化社会の美術」においては、モダニズムの限界と矛盾が、モダニズムをその内部から瓦解させるような方法によって表出することになる。ここにおいて、小松浩子における写真の表出が、近代的な意味での「表現」を徹底的に突き詰め、「無客体」や「無主体」という極めてラジカルな様相を出現させていることの重要性が見えてくる。また、再帰性が拡大した社会では伝統の消滅と伝統の再発見が際立った特徴となる、という議論を参照するならば、小松の写真や映像においては、伝統的な手法がだいなしにされているように見えな

黙示録を歩く119がら、同時に、忘却されていた手法が再発見されている場面にも遭遇する。※Walk the Apocalypse － 小松浩子の展示空間を彷徨い歩く、その体験は、「ポスト工業化社会」という日常を生きることの原理を、否応なしに、むきだしにする、その原理に直面しながら、それでも、小松浩子の展示空間を、いつまでも彷徨い歩く、そう、まるで、人類が消滅した後の黙示録的世界を歩くように。

120Biography 略歴1969 Born in Kanagawa, Japan2018 Received the 43rd Kimura Ihei AwardSolo Exhibitions2009 Titanium’s Heart, Gallery Yamaguchi, Tokyo2010 Speedometer, Gallery Q, Tokyo2010-11 Broiler Space, Monthly exhibitions independently ran by the artist, Broiler Space, Tokyo2011 Organic Contexture of Capital, Gallery Q, Tokyo Expansion Slot, Toki Art Space, Tokyo Suicide Diathesis, Yokohama Civic Gallery Azamino, Kanagawa2012 Son nom de Broiler Space dans Calcutta désert, Citizen’s Gallery, Meguro Museum of Art, Tokyo Parallel Ruler, Gallery Q, Tokyo Inquiries of a Concerned Party, photographers’ gallery, Kula Photo Gallery, Tokyo2013 Embodiment of Public Nature, Gallery Q, Tokyo Poisoned Dish Principle, photographers’ gallery, Kula Photo Gallery, Tokyo2014 Qualitative Multitude, Toki Art Space, Tokyo Welding of Memories, The White, Tokyo Double Constraint, Gallery Q, Tokyo2015 Disclosed Self-Consciousness, The White, Tokyo The Ingredients for Families, Toki Art Space, Tokyo2016 Existence Artist, The White, Tokyo2017 Mirror Behind Hole — Photography into Sculpture, Vol. 4 Komatsu Hiroko, gallery αM, Tokyo

1212018 Non-Marginal Utility, RAINROOTS & MUNO, Nagoya The 43rd Kimura Ihei Award Winner’s Exhibition, Nikon, THE GALLERY, Shinjuku, Tokyo The 43rd Kimura Ihei Award Winner’s Exhibition, Nikon Plaza Osaka, Osaka2019 Third Party Remote Authentication, HIJU GALLERY, Osaka Bioprice Guarantee, IG Photo Gallery, Tokyo2021 Self-Poisoning Enlightenment, Alt_Medium, TokyoGroup Exhibitions2012 Exhibition of Kanemura Osamu Workshop, Repeat after me vol. 1, The Gallery, Tokyo Exhibition of Kanemura Osamu Workshop, Repeat after me vol. 2, The Gallery, Tokyo2015 6th Fotofestival — Mannheim Ludwigshafen Heidelberg, ZEPHYR, Germany2016 RESET II AND FUTURISM, Galerie Priska Pasquer, Germany2017 THE POWER OF IMAGES, MAST Foundation, Italy SUBTERRANEAN HOMESICK, Gallery LeDeco, Tokyo2019 DECODE / Events & Materials, The Work of Art in the Age of Post-Industrial Society, The Museum of Modern Art, Saitama, Japan2021 Ocular Inverse Transgression, MEM, TokyoPublic CollectionsMAST Foundation (Italy)Tate Modern (United Kingdom)Kawasaki City Museum (Japan)The Art Institute of Chicago (USA)To stay up to date with Komatsu Hiroko’s work, please visit www.komatsu-hiroko.com

122小松浩子1969年  神奈川県生まれ2018年  第43回木村伊兵衛写真賞受賞個展2009年  「チタンの心」ギャラリー山口（東京）2010年  「速度計」ギャラリーQ（東京）2010–11年 「ブロイラースペース」連続個展、ブロイラースペース（東京）2011年  「資本の有機的構成」ギャラリーQ（東京） 「拡張スロット」トキアートスペース（東京） 「自殺体質」横浜市民ギャラリーあざみ野（神奈川）2012年  「ブロイラースペース時代の彼女の名前」目黒区美術館区民ギャラリー（東京） 「平行定規」ギャラリーQ（東京）   「当事者研究」photographers’ gallery/Kula Photo Gallery（東京）2013年  「具現的公共性」ギャラリーQ（東京） 「毒皿方針」photographers’ gallery/Kula Photo Gallery（東京）2014年  「質的多数性」トキアートスペース（東京） 「記憶の溶接」The White（東京） 「二重拘束」ギャラリーQ（東京）2015年  「公開自意識」The White（東京）   「成分家族」トキアートスペース（東京）2016年  「生存芸術家」The White（東京）2017年  「鏡と穴－彫刻と写真の界面 vol.4 小松浩子」gallery αM（東京）

1232018年  「限界非効用」RAINROOTS & MUNO（名古屋） 「第43回木村伊兵衛写真賞受賞作品展」Nikon / THE GALLERY 新宿（東京）「第43回木村伊兵衛写真賞受賞作品展」ニコンプラザ大阪（大阪）2019年  「第三者遠隔認証」HIJU GALLERY（大阪） 「生体価格保証」IG Photo Gallery（東京）2021年  「自己中毒啓発」Alt_Medium（東京）グループ年2012年  「金村修ワークショップ企画展 Repeat after me vol.1」The Gallery（東京） 「金村修ワークショップ企画展Repeat after me vol.2」The Gallery（東京）2015年  「6th Fotofestival – Mannheim Ludwigshafen Heidelberg」ZEPHYR   （マンハイム、ドイツ）2016年  「RESET II AND FUTURISM」Galerie Priska Pasquer（ケルン、ドイツ）2017年  「THE POWER OF IMAGES」MAST（ボローニャ、イタリア） 「SUBTERRANEAN HOMESICK」Gallery LeDeco（東京）2019年  「DECODE/出来事と記録ーポスト工業化社会の美術」埼玉県立近代美術館（埼玉）2021年  「網膜反転侵犯」MEM（東京）パブリック・コレクションMAST（イタリア）Tate Modern （イギリス）川崎市市民ミュージアム（日本）The Art Institute of Chicago（アメリカ）

124Bibliography 参考文献PublicationsExhibition History, Vol. 1. Text by Umezu Gen. Tokyo: paper company, 2021.Handmade Photobookscorrosion #2, 20 editions, Man Cave, 2021.corrosion #1, 20 editions, Man Cave, 2020.Slope Way, Inagi, Tokyo 13:00 - 15:00, October 13, 2009, 100 editions, 2018.Port Area, Sakai, Tokyo 12:00 - 14:00, May 4, 2010, 100 editions, 2016.Son nom de Broiler Space dans Calcutta désert, 300 editions, 2012.Book #1, gelatin silver prints handbound by the artist, 2012.Exhibition CataloguesSelf-Poisoning Enlightenment. Text by Mitsuda Yuri. Tokyo: paper company, 2021.DECODE / Events & Materials, The Work of Art in the Age of Post-Industrial Society. Saitama: Museum of Modern Art, Saitama, 2019.Masterworks of Industrial Photography: Exhibitions 2017 Mast Foundation / Capolavori della fotografia industriale: Mostre 2017 Fondazione Mast. Bologna: MAST Foundation; Electa, 2019.Urs Stahel, ed. [7] Places [7] Precarious Fields. Heidelberg: Kehrer Verlag, 2015.

125Author BiographiesCarrie Cushman is the Linda Wyatt Gruber (Class of 1966) Curatorial Fellow in Photography at the Davis Museum at Wellesley College. She holds a Ph.D. in Art History from Columbia University and is a specialist in postwar and contemporary photography from Japan. Her current book project, Temporary Ruins: Photography in Late-Modern Japan, examines the ruin as a central motif in con-temporary Japanese photography.キャーリ・クッシュマンはウェルズリー大学のデイビス美術館でLinda Wyatt Gruber (Class of 1966) Curatorial Fellow in Photographyです。コロンビア大学大学院の美術学部で博士号を終了しました。専門は日本の戦後と現代写真の歴史です。現在書いているモノグラフ、Temporary Ruins: Photography in Late-Modern Japanは日本の現代写真における中心的なモチーフとして廃墟を検討しています。Franz Prichard teaches in the Department of East Asian Studies at Princeton University. His work explores the literature, visual media, and critical thought of contemporary Japan. His first book Residual Futures: The Urban Ecologies of Literary and Visual Media of 1960s and 1970s Japan (2019) examines the rapid transformation of the urban and media ecologies of Japanese literary and visual media of the 1960s and 70s.フランツ・プリチャードはフプンストン大学東アジア学部で現代日本の文学・視覚文化・思想を教えます。２０１９年に出版されたモノグラフ, Residual Futures: The Urban Ecologies of Literary and Visual Mediaof 1960s and 1970s Japan （残された未来：1960年代～1970年代の日本の文学・視覚メディアにおける都市生態学）は日本文学や視覚メディアのアーバンとメディア・エコロジーの急速な変貌を検討しました。

126Umezu Gen was born in 1966. He received his Master’s Degree from the Graduate School at Tama Art University in 1991. Until 2021, he was the Curator of Modern Art at The Museum of Modern Art, Saitama. His exhibitions include Matter and Perception 1970: Mono-ha and the Search for Fundamentals (1995), Donald Judd: 1960-1991 (1999), and DECODE: Events & Materials — The Work of Art in the Age of Post-Industrial Society (2019), among others.梅津元（芸術学）。1966年生まれ。1991年多摩美術大学大学院修士課程修了。同年より2021年まで埼玉県立近代美術館学芸員。「1970年－物質と知覚：もの派と根源を問う作家たち」(1995)、「 ド ナ ル ド ・ ジ ャ ッド1960–1991」(1999)、「 DECODE/出来事と記録－ポスト工業化社会の美術」（2019）等を担当。

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128Komatsu Hiroko: Creative DestructionText by: Carrie Cushman, Komatsu Hiroko, Mitsuda Yuri, Franz Prichard, Umezu GenTranslated by: Carrie Cushman, Franz Prichard, The Translation Center at the University of Massachusetts AmherstDesigned by: Alicia LaToresEdited by: Carrie Cushman, Lisa Fischman, Colleen BerryFirst edition: exact date of publicationPublished by: The Davis Museum at Wellesley College© 2021 The Davis Museum at Wellesley College『小松浩子：創造的破壊』執 筆：キャーリ・クッシュマン、小松浩子、光田ゆり、フランツ・プリチャード、梅津元翻 訳：キャーリ・クッシュマン、フランツ・プリチャード、マサチューセッツ大学アマースト校の翻訳センターデ ザ イ ン：アリシア・ラットレズ編 集：キャーリ・クッシュマン、リサ・フィッシュマン、コリーン・ベリー2021年＃月＃日　初版第1刷発行発行者：ウェルズリー大学のデイビス美術館

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