Originally published on metropolis.co.jp on October 2013
There’s no getting away from it, Kazuki Umezawa is something of an otaku. Not only is he obviously deeply involved in his art—to the point where he probably doesn’t wash or bother communicating much with other humans—but the actual content of his art is clearly otaku as well, in the sense of showing an unhealthy interest in sailor suits, amongst other things.
Naturally, for this very reason, he is being touted as an up-and-coming Japanese artist and even the next big thing. A series of his astonishing collage works is now on display at a free exhibition at the Diesel Gallery so you can find out what all the fuss is about.
Umezawa’s collages typically feature an overwhelming flood of imagery: bits n’ pieces from comics, mags, various sketches and photography. Eyeballs are a common motif, but basically anything can make the mix of this visual minestrone soup that seems to reflect the constant bombardment of imagery that cities like Tokyo and mediums like the internet constantly throw at those of us too weak to turn them off.
These images have been processed in various ways—sometimes digitally, sometimes manually, sometimes enlarged or distorted, but mainly thrown together like people onto a crowded Yamanote line train at rush hour—and then presented in various media, from blocks of Perspex and painted mirrors to digital prints and (almost) conventional canvases.
Look close enough and you’ll see figurative elements—characters from comic books, rainbows, ribbons, buildings, maps of Japan, and other objects. Take a step back and these become an almost abstract jumble. But take another couple of steps back and the abstract confusion seems to coalesce around some large eyeball or other prominent feature into a shaggy, psychedelic figure, eerily looking back at you.
One work, an expansive digital print on a tarpaulin, spread across one of the gallery’s walls, is also enhanced by an augmented reality program on tablet computer that allows you to see the various elements of the work in isolation—at least virtually.
You could speculate on what drives Umezawa to work in this way? Is he just being a clever contemporary artist by confusing categories and boundaries —being edgy by destroying the edges? Possibly, but it seems that he is more simply driven by a kind of visual restlessness that he can’t control, and which simply works through him.
Anyone remembering the Earthquake of 2011 might feel a certain sense of déjà vu. Just like the terrible tsunami then, Umekazu’s work seems to visually sweep everything up into one vast swathe of human detritus. There are clear resonances, which the artist himself picked up on, because several of the works actually feature photographs taken by Umezawa in the area devastated by the quake. Well, it’s good to know that he gets out of his room sometimes!
