Japanese artists sow seeds of exhibit

By Victoria Gail-White
Advertiser Art Critic

•	'Seed' Art by Keiko Hatano, Lori Ohtani, Tsugumi Iwasaki-Higbee, Yoko Haar, Noe Tanigawa and Diane Nushida-Tokuno Through April 5 7:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. Monday through Thursday 7:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. Friday 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. Saturday Lama Library, Kapi'olani Community College 734-9375

That is the amazing part of this exhibit. The not-so-amazing part is the poor lighting — which David Belke, director of the Koa Gallery, assured me is in the process of being resolved. The strength of the artwork is not lacking; the illumination and placement are. Fortunately for this talented group of artists, the work shines out on its own.

Haar's ceramic concepts of seeds are plant-like and nature-driven. In "Sleep," true-to-size replicas of seedpods in black ceramic fill three shelves of a tall glass case and appear to be on loan from the Museum of Natural History. In "Rebirth," numerous yellow seeds attached to a large pod incubate in the glass case. In her meticulousness, Haar has remembered to place the element essential to the perpetuation of seeds close by — the wind.

An upside-down, swirling, blue-textured ceramic bowl, "The Whirling Wind," makes this duet complete. In a tile series titled "A Mountain Path," Haar shares a textural conversation of seed environments.

Hatano, an active force in the arts community, used felt as her medium. She molded and formed felt into seed pod shapes — some dyed in oranges, reds and yellows, some left white and pure — piled in a birthing chaos waiting to hatch. The softness of the medium begs for fondling and so it is a good thing (for people like me) that they are protected by glass and clear plastic cases.

Seeds are vulnerable, sensuous things in need of protection.

One can imagine Iwasaki-Higbee hiking around the neighborhood collecting seed and pod-like materials to mix into her acrylic-and-oil diptych painting "Awaiting." In an alchemical blending of rich earth tones she integrates gauze, cotton fabric, coconut husks, spackling paste, driftwood, and a variety of seeds and nuts — a veritable stew of life, cooking right there on the wall.

Nushida-Tokuno's installation "Hope" might be something of a librarian's nightmare but it is also a redeeming, forceful vision. Inside a glass case, stacks and stacks of opened books have seeds bursting out of lines of burnt sections. One might imagine reading the books, causing the seeds of knowledge to sprout. A perimeter of votive candles and a scattering of seeds surround the case, symbolizing enlightenment.

Butoh dancer and artist Ohtani's "Warpiece" addresses the issue of battle. In the title description, beside the two large sheets of framed and separated metal with the word WAR printed and poked out between them, she writes, "Size: Global." This is a destructive seed.

In five small, peculiar, human-like "Seed" sculptures, Tanigawa draws attention to what appears to be the painful process of growth. It is unclear whether the seeds are human, but we can recognize familiar elements (such as hair and skin).

Tanigawa's large oil, wax and charcoal-on-lutrador (a backing material) painting splashes, blots and swirls color alongside detailed charcoal drawings of lotus pods and flowers.

In this work, she juxtaposes these symbols of self-awareness with the organized pattern of a month's supply of birth control pills. Its gentleness of line and strength of color lend a visual context to her poem, which is mounted on the wall:

Death is the seed/

inside us/

that we feed/

with our flesh,/

our juices./

Every hope, every/

action feeds/

beautiful death;/

an absence, a cypher/

til it blooms!

Death/

completes/

another seed.