Artist/
Potter

Motohara
Reico

Artist/Potter

Motohara Reico

works

LIBRARY展

2009年10月24日ー12月20日
静岡市アートギャラリー、静岡

ずっと、書きとめている。なにか目的をもってでなく、ただそのとき手にしていた紙に記録する癖。

ここに書かれた出来事は、すべて私が体験したこと。
どれも小さくて、熟すことがない些細な事柄かもしれないけれど、「私」という樹に生った実である。

最初は、土に跡を残す手段として、最も原始的なひっかく手法を使って書いてみたが、あまりに私的でむき出しの感情に面食らった。同じ言葉を近代的な上絵転写紙を使って活字にしたとたん、それは表情を失い、私から離れた。わたしのものでもあるかもしれないし、他人の人生でもあるかのように。

作品は、私と土とのとても私的な対話から生まれるものです。土と私でできるあらゆる手法を探っています。私にとって、技術とはこの時代を生きるひとりとして抱え込む見えない心の襞をカタチにするための手段です。

I transferred onto porcelain three stories from memos written in a mixture of English and Japanese during my four and a half year stay in England.

These small fruits depicting an unripe daily life sprouting from a tree called “I” were made into objects that could be read by turning them around in one’s hands.

When I scratched the words in my own handwriting on the clay, it was too personal and hard to read. But as soon as I put the words into printed form and applied them using an overprint transfer paper, it became as if these stories might be from my own or someone else’s life.

note→

>STORY01
Sunday afternoon at Casualty Department of St.Mary Hospital,Waiting for the doctor to see me.’So,you are 14 months pregnant?’ “14ヶ月の妊娠??” ‘When did you arrive at London?’ “Yesterday.” ‘Some one next to me said,’He must have 3 wives.’ The lady was wrapped by black materials.I could only see her fingers with red enameled nails.細くて長い指。おそらく妊婦の母親だろう。The nurse was trying to get hold of the doctor for her.He must be at lunch.’Oh,here he is.’ A purple T-shirts was walking towards to the casualty Dpt entrance and turned right.The nurse ran.’Bob!!I desperately need you.’ 車椅子に乗ったアラブの妊婦がうなる。黒い布に包まれた母親がKleenex Tissueを彼女に渡す。潤んだ目。となりのラテン系の女の子に”I feel like I’m not sick enough to be here.”と言おうかと思った瞬間、彼女の足元にある黒革のバッグの留め金の金色が新しすぎて話しかけるのをやめた。’Carol! Have you ordered…..’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Lovely.’妊婦を乗せて廊下をかけぬける足どりは、’この瞬間が好きだからやめられない’って言ってるみたいだ。自分の仕事に誇り、持ってるんだろうな。腹を抱えたイタリー系の小男がよく似た顔の背の高い子供連れの女に付き添われて来た。青白い顔。血の気を失った唇。

>STORY02
I was standing in front of a cash point at Barclays Bank near Holborn tube station.My flat was just down the street,5 minutes walk from there.Well, I started to push the buttons following instructions to draw some money.Then a lady talked to me from behind. ‘Do you know anywhere I could possibly buy a toothpaste?’I was pretty kind and told her that she could find one in a grocery shop 5 doors down and also a big drugstore next to Sainsburys supermarket near the station. She smiled and said ‘Lovely,thank you.’When I turned around and went back to my job, I found that machine ate my cash card because of the delay.’I can’ t believe it. It’s Sunday.How can I get by without any money.Bloody hell!! Why didn’t she ask someone else???Why me?’

>STORY03
a kiss for ‘Good night’I was tiding up my studio and found a plastic bag from a box which I haven’t opened since I was back from London in 1992.This brought me back to the time I spent in Kendal when I had a group show with the other graduates from RCA.I t was August 1992 right after our degree show.We were at a garden;I can’t remember where or what,there was a bonfire and Ed kept burning crisps packages.It was amazing to see how it was shrunk by heat.He put a plastic package at the top of a twig and kept it in the fire. It became 1/10 smaller size.He gave me the smallest artistic one. We laughed a lot.After the opening party,I went back to the Youth Hostel for sleep near the gallery.I was in girl’s dormitory.It was mid-night,someone started banging the door ,“Reico,where are you?I need to talk to you!!”I jumped up and went to the door.Ed was there ,“I just wanted to say Good night to you~~night night~~!!” God! a stupid drunk,I thought.Next morinig,I was back to London and we all knew that Ed left early morning to home somewhere north on his motorbike. 3days later,Tami called me.Ed crashed into something on a way back home and he died.This is not fair.I didn’t have a moment for him till I opened this box.I was the last one gave him a kiss for ‘Good night’.
雨のゆくえ 雨は空から落ちてくるというのに、地面が濡れているのを見て「雨だ。」と知ることが多い。マンションに住んでいた頃は自宅前の幹線道路を走る車の音で、気づいた。今は、キッチンの上にあるちいさな天窓にぽつぽつ飛来してきた音でわかる。こどもの頃に知っていた雨の匂いを最近、感じたことはない。遥か彼方から降る雨粒は、最初から最期まで一人旅なんだろうか?連れができたり、途中で別れたりもするのだろうか。