No Day without a Bicycle:
An Interview by John Baber
January 8, 2009
Long Island City, Queens
John Baber: You
hold both a Bachelors and Masters degree in Engineering, specializing
in Industrial Design. What was the catalyst that transformed you into
an artist? Why not be an engineer?
Kentaro Fujioka: I
felt that I was at a dead end professionally. I was thinking a lot
about consumerism. I said to myself, "I don't want to be a consumer." I
wanted to escape middle class society in Japan, which is responsible
for a significant amount of consumption. That's when I decided to leave
Japan. The funny thing about the U.S. is that it is a lot about
consuming. I never felt that I was moving to the U.S. though, I felt
that I was moving to New York. I'm against consumption in many senses;
information, media, images. I wanted to think the opposite way and fine
art is not about consumption.
JB: In
2000, you moved from Japan to New York to study at The Art Students
League. You spoke little English. Did you find that painting, a
non-verbal process, was your solace? Would you consider this your most
difficult period in New York? How did you overcome?
KF: Not
speaking English was almost an advantage for me. My early work in New
York consisted of portrait painting. I painted from models at The Art
Students League. I was trying to capture the likeness, the feeling. You
look at the person you are painting. You start to feel that person in
your painting. You don't have to listen. Someone said great art doesn't
come from you, it comes through you. There are no words when you are
painting from the model. You don't have to think about language. It was
a purely visual process for me. I didn't have much verbal communication
with other people. I was a recluse and inside of myself. It was almost
better for me not to speak the language. What I was doing was more
personal. This was how I overcame the situation.
JB: You
have a special relationship with Charles Hinman, an instructor here at
the League. How has he helped you in your creative process as a teacher
and as friend?
KF: What
I got mostly from Hinman is his way of organization not only within his
work but in his studio as well. His influence upon me is not that
direct. Our conversations are not always art related. I never followed
his specific style or even his philosophy. I really respect him as an
artist and I feel like he respects me as an artist. I feel like we have
a great relationship. I don't believe in teaching much but I've learned
a lot from being around him, small techniques such as dissolving glue.
These techniques I have applied in my art making.
JB: In
2005, you received the Xavier Gonzales and Ethel Edwards Grant from The
Art Students League and traveled to Western Europe and Africa. Did
these travels influence you any way?
KF: During
my travel I was practically alone and without a home for seven months.
This experience gave me a chance to see where I was from the outside. I
was able to see New York from the outside. When I'm here in the U.S., I
can see my country, Japan, from the outside. I went to the major
museums in Spain, Italy, Rome, Venice, Florence, London, Berlin, and in
Amsterdam. When I came back I felt that I visited too many museums.
JB: You are currently working on a Public Water Sculpture Project. What is your vision with this project?
KF: I
consider this current project as street art. I feel that I'm getting
bored with New York. The city is getting cleaner and nicer. The middle
class is taking over. There are less crazy people and more regulations.
I have a problem with restrictions. When you loosen these restrictions
it creates more communication. I thought that my street art project was
a good idea in the sense that it was not planned. I wanted to do the
sculptures in a spontaneous way and without permission. I considered
the boundaries of public spaces and doing art in these public spaces. I
feel tight in this city, on the streets in New York. The city is
getting tighter rather than more open. Doing this work on the street
was a way of loosening up.
JB: Within
your most recent paintings, you refer to the tension between
Destruction and Construction. How do these concepts correspond to your
creative process?
KF: One
day I surprised myself. I was gluing a piece of wood onto the canvas. I
was trying to glue it very strong, as strong as possible, then I was
going to rip it off. It was interesting to me because I was trying to
make it stronger in order to destroy it. The stronger I put things on
the canvas the harder it is to break off. There is a tension between
construction and destruction. Most of my process, in regards to time,
is dedicated to the construction. In other words, it takes more time to
make the initial painting field than to destroy it. This process can
take less than an hour. This process creates a feeling that I am
working against myself and my construction becomes very difficult to
break. That tension, that's the beauty of my process.
JB:
Presently, you are working on a series of drawings quite large in scale
involving your bicycle and graphite. Why your bicycle?
KF: I
ride my bike everyday. I use the same bicycle everyday from my studio
and in to Manhattan. I control it. You have to be in control while
biking in New York City. Your life can be in danger if you are not
careful. My bicycle drawings are spontaneous. There is no design in my
head and I do not work from sketches. I do the design right there in
the moment. When people see my drawings they don't realize that I used
my bicycle. They assume that I did it by hand. What I like about these
drawings is that you cannot do the same thing by hand. If you want to
make that sort of line you have to use the bicycle. Without the
bicycle, it is very difficult to draw the same quality of lines. That's
what I like.
JB: A
lot of your conceptual works, in particular your water sculptures, are
not for sale. Do you think the art world has become tainted with the
idea of selling taking precedence over the creative process and what it
truly means to be an artist?
KF: I
would like to sell but that hasn't happened. I don't think much about
the market. It's tempting. You look through the gallery guide or
magazines and think "maybe I can sell this." Usually, it never works.
You want to make something interesting and honest. The art market is
not connected to the motivation of my artwork but I would like to sell.
It's not a very interesting idea - to make art to sell it or for it to
be popular. It's a very boring way of thinking. To me it's a very empty
idea. Money comes after it doesn't come first. That's what I hope.
JB: What is your favorite venue to visit when looking at art?
KF: I would have to say the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I love the Van Gogh section.
JB: You
have shown your work on the street, at local galleries including Local
Project in Long Island City, and most recently at the Queens Museum.
What benefits has each place offered you?
KF: At
Local project, they offered the space for me to have my solo show free.
Publicity came out of a few places. I enjoy the community aspect of the
Queens Museum. I showed my water sculptures there but I prefer to make
them outside because of the light. When I show my sculptures on the
street, I feel more connected to the people of New York City.
JB: As
New York City becomes increasingly expensive and gentrified, especially
neighborhoods that are home to artists, do you plan on staying here and
sticking it out?
KF: The
prices of rent will go down, that is my prediction. I'm expecting some
sort of Great Depression within the next four years. When the economy
is going good, you take things for granted, you don't think "life is
ok." When things go badly you start to appreciate things more. I like
the artists that have suffered in history. Suffering is more real to
me, you see more. Sometimes I feel like I see too much. A Depression is
real. When the economy is good people are drunk. I think of a happy
time when I was helping someone at their studio. It was in a hot
uncomfortable building and we were sweating all day. When we went
outside, the breeze hit my face. How I felt! The feeling was so good!
You have to experience pain and discomfort in order to experience true
comfort and happiness. I don't think about rent going up anymore. I
still eat good, but not that good compared to many people. As an
artist, compared to other artists in history, perhaps I eat too good.
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